Tag: Gothic
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To Accede Into My Own Desires.
Of this night’s eye or insanity that was dissevered, A divine satire loomed of an Iliad one day, that was deemed as dithyrambic.
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“METAMORPHOSIS .. .” by edenbray.
Olivia deHaviland, the gates of death sucking the skeleton’s thumb wet feet adorn the dead screen
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Deep in my Heart.
betrayal, stirred by leaf on mid-summer on the garret, perched windows that drifts and drifts, rolled on a dead poet, and flown and sowed by the stitch, my squill.
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“Skeleton Key” by Nick Pipitone.
obscene phantoms hiss in my ears, softly, while I lay comatose under bed-sheets, dejected again, psychic pain of ancestors at my blackened brain-stem
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“THE WRETCH” by Jay Mora-Shihadeh.
The needling of the wind howls in this Barren Cavern Brain Of a man, forlorned.
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I die shambolic.
born again, the rampike is covered in frost chilled by father’s eye, I’m handed enigmatical roses; I die
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“Dead Garden” by Nick Pipitone.
dried leaves rustle like fading nightmares, an urge to suck in colors before me
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Killing me.
I came back again the full God, an opus of your eye; I am her mad spring—she wants to see how far we flay in our garden beds
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the poet
Originally posted on George Ellington:
The words, the power, the very syntaxof your verse delights me,says the linguist in me. The imagery flows like molten cloudsover my aging soul,cries the artist in me. Your rhythm reaches into my heartand entices me to sing,chants the musician in me. The sensuality of your voice caressesmy pulsating skin,moans… -
castles of sands.
I knelt down of dreams, of seas for reaping digits against the tree-bark in absence of the moon’s tongue of Janus—sprawled out to the wails of shyness; father of bones, do not come back for me.
Pseudopsychosis. 