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Rage and Violence

Nicotine RiptidesHands creep out car windows
Flicking cigarette ashes on asphalt
Like eels poking heads from holes
If only to taste fleeting riptides.Nicotine Riptides by ~Schofield-Alan

Apocalypse Journal Ch. VI by ~Schofield-Alan

Burning Churches by =Bark

for a jackassyou tear into complexities,
circuitous lifeplans,
exquisite singularities that mock our sad and broken math,
squeezing your precious purpose;

maggots have their reasons, too.

should i claim you off the genetic heap
as one of mine?
i’m no better at living life,
but i’d like to believe
i’d sooner die for this world
than murder it.for a jackass by `thetaoofchaos

Rage and Violence

Self Torture, Pain, and Grief

the HuntI slept covered in decaying leaves, my wings folded over my body.
I was the question that the bird would ask from the zenith of the sky.
The frosted soil was illuminated in patches by the embers of raised fires.
The lights of the villagers finally found me among the crystals,
Woke me by pounding drums to make me fly right into the middle of the circle
Their bows raised, grabbing clubs tightly in their fists, torches in front of their eyes;
For a moment I was the magnificent, leaping beast in a tapestry over the fireplace
My tears became sparkling sequins sewn onto the hems of skirts of obedient daughters.
From the high-pitched sound of their hunters' whistles, seeing the loyal dogs by their side,
I knew that these makers and wielders of cutting blades would form into a wall I could not escape.
They had studied me from behind the leaves, made claws of their own to counter mine, written books,
I found my songs of resistance countered by an intoxicating melody that wrapped like silver vinthe Hunt by *tulinuotio

ListeningListening

When the angel speaks, Mary dips a finger
into the wine, holds it out for the angel to taste.
This may be the last thing
of the world .... The angel's tongue
wraps around her finger, a string tied tight.
Mary wants to remember the cracked cup,
the wind fluttering like a trapped moth,
the taste sharp as a pinprick in her mouth.
"Chosen," the angel calls. But Mary is listening
to the scrape of an oxen's hooves
as he drags a cart, wheels crunching leaves,
the last thing .... She already knows.
She sniffs her hands: eucalyptus, pungent, crushed,
a bright thread tying her to this world.
"Innocent," the angel says. "No," Mary answers.Listening by *swansisters

Praying To MyselfDear Doctor,
my sister is ill
my mother will not say what is wrong,
but today she came home hair gone,
skin translucid as a ghost's,
eyes molten from lava teardrops.
She tinkers with the tangibility of her wrists
as if her body is a map
and she needs to pinpoint her location
with the sharp edges of red thumbtacks.
She fights the infection that is killing her
by attempting to kill herself first.
Doctor, I do not need a diagnosis
I want only the cure

Dear Scale,
in one week she has lost twenty pounds.
They walked along the cliffs of her shoulders
and leaped off them as if on diving boards
and landed into a pool of anorexia,
but I know we can sPraying To Myself by ~poeticperfectionist

SublimeAll that lays before his eyes now it’s just the abstract of his world,
Mixed, twisted, undone to bloody pieces – everything he ever loved.
He kneels in front of the mess he made this time,
His ruthless, unjustified crime,
Of his world that was once sublime.

Wrecked into his own abyss,
Desperately, he wishes just for a single moment of bliss,
Yelling to the darkness, to the ashes of his existence,
He’s trying to dispel the endless distance.

His bitter tears cannot infuse life into his world,
A pile of dreary dust…
It makes him tremble, a harsh wind gust.
He deepens his sweaty, shaking hands into the rubble he made tSublime by ~THFan259

Self Torture, Pain, and Grief

Sick, Twisted, and Dirty

Candle Lit Corridor by =GodEatingZombieShark

toiletit’s understood.
i rob you of your grace.

we must be selfsame
at four a.m.
with a collar for our bones
with crickets in our window air
with angry sawteeth
smothering in a cauldron.

i never had a lover.
be a basket for my worthless heap.toilet by `thetaoofchaos

Moths And Maggots by =NobleQueenOfLothaire

Bathroom NightmaresCrumpled bloodied upon the floor,
skinned knees and torn flesh,
broken bones, and shattered minds,
there are nightmares in the mirror,
and the walls seem to move,
screams boil up from the drains.

Abandoned amid the slivers of glass,
escape is a taunting laugh,
behind closed doors that refuse to open,
splintered wood, breaking nails,
sanity frayed.

Fists beat upon the walls,
fingers pry upon the tiles,
fed by desperation, options running thin,
fear pumps through the veins,
a shard of glass glistens temptation,
but the fractured faces stare back unrelenting,

Counting teeth, ripping handfuls of hair,
clumps of skin litter the floBathroom Nightmares by *SilverWynd

Sick, Twisted, and Dirty

Shocking and Abnormal

deviation in storage by *CyphersignaL

perfection1

my spirit
catches on a failure.

it doesn’t move
and nothing more is possible.

2

i’m in love with the Black Madonna on my wall,
the scar that runs down her breast
the way she’s sewing her suicide wrist
looking dutifully 50s mannequin
and balancing on red stilettos
in a white silk slip
while tree limbs are tearing at her calves
and crows are picking at her empty womb;

a giant
unplugged
heart,
suffocating in the background
as her crest.

no one will
suffer
like she does.perfection by `thetaoofchaos

MatrixIt is not how I thought of you
at the moment of your admission
which one might see as terrible
in the darkness you confide,
but as moonless in its secrecy

where my perfume cannot reach-
tumbling over black cataracts,
blood-flecked and rabid; guided,
albeit momentarily seduced,

to be lead behind
eroding bulwarks of atrocity,
climaxing into this matrix dome,
the head of a spear through a noose-

but am I not merely a bandit;
bereaved by calamity at the
pinnacle of my desire gone awry?

Or in reality, a sinister paradox
unwelcome, borne of my
own darkness, that begs you stay.Matrix by `jade-pandora

The Feeding of Sacred Cows (The Binding of Genome) by *Canis44

Shocking and Abnormal

Callous and Numb

ProphecyProphecy

Above the kneeling angel, a sun dangles,
a ball of yarn. I want to unravel
what they did to me. Mary crosses her arms,
an X of blue cotton. They hung her son
on an X, cedar planks haphazardly nailed together,
no pattern, only
what has already happened.
I want prophecies,
warnings, road signs, a hand that scrawls,
their hands deep inside me,
claw hammers. Under Mary's blue robes,
red cloth drips, the folds gathering
into a puzzle on the floor.
The painter knew the end,
so he shaped the beginning so
there could be no other end,
no, if only I ....could I?Prophecy by *swansisters

WhoseWhose

The angels want her to die not him.
They pierce his skin
and blanket him with feathers,
a coat of eider, plume, penna, cilium and blood.
They want him to fly with them. He is one of them.
Their veins thread him, hard bright wires.
When she pants and bleeds in labor, they lap at her blood.
It burns, a metallic drunkenness.
The angels whirl as Mary moans and grunts.
He grows and Mary laughs. She dabbles honey
on his tongue and teaches him string games,
a maze of thread where there is no end,
no birth. Even when he bleeds,
the angels know the blood is hers not his.Whose by *swansisters

IntrovertYou insist that I keep my presence quiet --
so I am the flutter in your belly
braiding your stomach into knots
and burning ulcers into the lining
and I have discovered that,
if I bleed a little faster,
I can breathe a little softer

when you exhale a series of insults --
but I take them like the man
that you almost could have been
while you die sloIntrovert by =EtherealMartyr

Snake TattooSnake Tattoo

A dense black line coils around his arm,
a rope around my waist.
It pulls, a hot deep tugging.
A vet, he buys me one drink after another,
vodka distinct as a bite.
“I killed,” he tells me, “they died.”
In the parking lot, four horseman gather,
the hooves of their horses black sink holes,
dark as the inside of a broken doll’s head.
The cop hits again and again a man curled into a ball.
“One of the men who raped me
told me he was a cop.” I stiffen, startled by my voice.
The vet reaches to touch me,
“Don’t.” He flinches, his hand pulling back,
a trigger, a man’s bSnake Tattoo by *swansisters

Callous and Numb

Cynical, Sarcastic and Sardonic

Snake OilSnake Oil

Snake oil salesman, wagons gaudy with painted alligators and beaming women,
basking in health, cheeks red as the dying sun.
Their voices so sweet and slippery, heavy as honeysuckle
more potent than a preacher who could only promise you heaven.
The hushed crowds listen as pain is promised away,
just take this, take that and heave of living will melt like ice in your mouth.
Morphine, codeine and that old favorite alcohol.
Did the snake give Eve a grape instead of an apple.
But I would rather swallow their serenades of liquids so prettily packaged
then the hospital white sheets of pills, smaller then a rabbit’s eye.
If I must goSnake Oil by *swansisters

3D (dream drop distance)

Wake up your mind, unplug from the matrix

Fuck the bullshit, facades and the fake shit

And above all fuck patience, your time is now

Raise em up to oppressors that stay looking down

They're not authentic, not affective, not accented, not avengers

When you smile they frown

They'll send in Storm Troopers to dilute the truth

Then they'll try to tame you with "the blue dream"

Plots and schemes to keep you amused

But whips and chains are nothing but things

In the end they'll leave you shackled and bruised

Abused, misconstrued but please don't be confused

When you grab the mic under Jordan they Lorenzon Wright you off

But have no fear 3D (dream drop distance) by ~Dontaex

Ding dongDing dong

A burning we will see tonight.
Ding dong the witch is dead,
pussy in the deep dark well.
Harvest a green witch.
Weak is the knife held by the child.
But the Greenman will sew up the chasm
which you planted,
which I plaited
Into a belly of winter wheat.
Do you have to tear?
I have no liking for pain
despite the scars,
despite the seams.
There can be no knowledge without the knife
but did you have to tear?Ding dong by *swansisters

Brother, have I got a story for you.Theodore Neusman makes a living taking nine-to-five lives
And making them readable for four year olds.
He slices them into thirds, dresses up the first line,
Then squirts their remains onto page seven
All before eight in the morning.
Ten minutes before his coffee and toast get cold,
He’s already taken notes on the interview
Of a 32-year-old widow
Wife of a cheating husband who
Died hang-gliding at 35 with one of his
Mistresses.
Like any good John, he died a good death –
Choked on his own blood and ran out of breath when
A safety pull pulled apart his throat
After getting caught in the propeller of their rented boat
Off the coBrother, have I got a story for you. by *SovereignSin

Cynical, Sarcastic and Sardonic

Miscellaneous

Under a Witches SkyAnd lo there he said: "I am darkness rising"
— ‘an apparition bleeding into a dreaming sky
Distilled in the timbre of windswept voices,
black feathers enchant earth in fevered-song
Magick ebbs & shimmers thru earthen veins,
seething like a migration of hungry wolves
Silvery eyes peer, drinking the ether of souls;
watching the spirit world fold into the mists
And where Shadows and Witches conjure,
— myriad talons beshrew Winter’s prayer

For eons I hath wandered in forgotten lore
— a sleep walker thru ash & fire, hunting ..
Beneath Moon solemn and drifting,
I covet thy ghostly figure velvet, undressing
Pools ofUnder a Witches Sky by *ArthurCrow

yoke makes me sweatheat waves rummage
through pockets
of tired skin,
[as I'm]
choking on
wilting air
as some kind
of bondage.

beating the sun
back down to night --
cramping stars in
the sky take away
sex burned in me.

(this doesn't make me
a heliophile,
because at night I am
God)yoke makes me sweat by =slowslicksnails

TemptationsCrossroads, Time to choose.
Which way to win?
Which way to lose?

Darkness pulls me one way,
My heart fights back.
Which way will keep me,
Keep me on track?

You say, embrace the sin.
It's a part of who you are.
I say, it doesn't define me.
I am more than these scars.

I am more than this provincial way of life.
I will not, go down without a fight.
I will stand, to face the dark inside.
I won't be consumed by the lies.
I won't be consumed by the lies.

My sin weighs down on me.
The temptations arise.
They taunt and tease me,
Try to break me inside.

But this heart's still beating.
This soul wants to be clean.
So I'll shield myself from death'Temptations by *veritas08

IllictusLeft lonesome from the shallow heart
cried myself to death from my self-blinded eyes
violins held by the dead play my bitter eulogy
only my path past Styx remainsIllictus by =GodEatingZombieShark

Miscellaneous

Fear and Loathing

progression, regressionl
toddler

she walked five wobbly steps forward
and rode my foot five big steps back-
she wore anything i dressed her in

ll
seven to nine

she couldn't decide whether to be
a marine biologist or a writer-
she thought we were very smart

lll
thirteen to twenty

she thought everyone was dumb
and barely listened to us- she joined
throngs of teens in angst corrals

llll
twenty to thirty

she was too friendly and got caught
in trouble too big for her-
she was strong and fought her way out

lllll
thirty to forty

she walked five wobbly steps forward
and fell five wobbly steps back-
each of us was furious at everyone

llllll
future

fury
fprogression, regression by *xlntwtch

The Morning StarGod among the dormant
king of divine falsehood
the stench of sin
your skin of lies
thoughts from a mind of wretch
with a soul of plague
master of the cults of a circle with serpents from Eden to rapture
you watch as a raven
as a man
as a beast
bring your tempest of disaster
king of the sulfurous void
your whim be done
the Morning StarThe Morning Star by =GodEatingZombieShark

narrativewhy
do they continue to see the world
as being told,
stories
about something,
somewhere,
someone?

like when you wrestle with indifference
as the phone rings and rings
and stops
and rings
again
and some girl you've forgotten
leaves a hundred messages
while you are playing video games
on an ancient contraption
your father bought you
10 years ago
in a rare moment of
generosity
which you promptly
dismissed
and every dish you own
balances like a trophy in the sink
with ramen noodle scraps
and old mashed potatoes
and you contemplate for a fraction of a second
the time when you realized that you could live,
you could breathe and sleep and brenarrative by `thetaoofchaos

FragilityThose days when you feel like you're made of glass.
Those days when you feel breakable.
All you want is someone to hold you together.
To make sure you don't shatter.

Why do I feel so fragile?
Why do I feel so alone?
Why do I feel I need a rock
Or something to keep me afloat?

Is it you that will hold me together?
Keep me afloat?
Be my rock, my refuge, my boat?

Or will you pull me beneath the waves?
Break me down?
Throw me on the floor and crush me down

Tiny shards are not what I want to be.
I want to be whole and free.
Tiny shards are not what I want to be.
I want to be whole and free.

What will you make me?Fragility by *veritas08

Fear and Loathing

Sombre and Macbre

The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze

Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain

(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)

Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling

The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream

(To become whatever the second birth dictates)The Waiting by =Bark

nothingsometimes the dark is all that binds us
to one another.
light becomes deleterious,
sounding to somber seams
and threatening fractures.

we weave a blanket
of the void between us
and find comfort in our wanting.
even with my boyish fingers
i am not strong enough;
i cannot outlast
the mushrooming chasms.

i bury the empty in the rocks
of my stomach
but it blooms beneath my breast.
it pushes against me
filling my cavity
with a thing
that will never be destroyed.

i am free and weighted.
my breathing is hollow;
my anthem is jaundiced
and my spore-song
is suff-
ocating
all of
me.nothing by *Hfeather53

ripei was born in the dark
and they tried to keep me away from the light;
blood-red spilled through the windows,
pooled on the floor beneath her ankles
and around my gaping mouth
as i became acquainted with stale air

(if only
i'd chosen a better place
a better time).

he would say he was tired
and she would say her baby girl was beautiful
(or so i was told
she said
between her bouts of blubbering
for nicotine
while she was imprisoned).

i've come to believe souls are collected
while we are young
(i am a cavity, my spirit
plucked, under a harvest moon).ripe by *Hfeather53

heavy and emptyshe is too tired.
she is gutted from their spoon-eyes
digging into her
not quite ripe form;

that is when they wanted her most
(when their touches left bruises
and her baby hairs laid down,
docile when exposed to their breath).

and even while her seed
was carelessly plucked,
even while her insides
were shoveled and disjointed -
she was heavy.

breathing was never more difficult
than trying to decide
if she should exhale
or inhale
because everything is pressing against her
and at the same time
her body is ready to burst.

life is nothing more than holding her breath
and counting the seconds
until she is forced to breathe.
she is tired of takiheavy and empty by *Hfeather53

Sombre and Macbre

December 14th, 2012

Cliffhangers by =tonepainter

so cruel the collateral damagea village like one from Christmas films
meets tragedy, triggered by demons unknown.
tears in his eyes, the Governor says,
"your children will not be coming home".

lungs compress to a critical mass;
grief disperses the fallout far.
parents, stumbling, come to know,
where children were, now angels are.

we cannot suppose how others feel,
but as i age these empathies hurt,
sifting with time, settling in,
shared sorrows smother my hesitant heart.

the trolls toll this again today;
how 'craven' bespeaks of the NRA.

llp - dA - dec2012so cruel the collateral damage by *alapip

Dear Little LightsDear Little Lights,

You never knew me. You didn't know that I existed on the same planet as you, you were too small to understand the scope of the Earth. You lived in your secluded and sheltered circle of friends and family, as children do, merry and healthy, bright and focused. Not one of you had even an inkling that there was such a great, wide world, ready to be explored, and now, you never will. Tragically, unlawfully, disturbingly, you have each one of you been removed from the painting, inked out and painted over before you achieved any of your hopes and dreams. You will not be able to close your eyes and wait patiently for the day youDear Little Lights by ^pullingcandy

A Garden Trampled: Sandy Hook, 14 Dec. 2012Twenty saplings plucked
Seven pillars toppled
Salt and ashes strewnA Garden Trampled: Sandy Hook, 14 Dec. 2012 by `HaveTales-WillTell

December 14th, 2012

Mea culpa

Rabbit - 2 by `vespera

sunlightBefore the sun could rise, we returned from the East
And brought back golden gongs for our golden frescoes.
We were too alive to sleep, too enormous to tame,

And shook with the poverty that came suddenly with winter,
Calling and yawning, like stray cats out on the street;
When the sun came at last, and gorged itself on the fabric

Of skin, hair, and speech, we ran back, back, back
From our dreams of God, and the last flight left
Before we could even catch it; out on the road,

The world gave us tricks, offering leaves, blossoms, and other
Things as green as our blunders, while we called
For golden hands on our throats, a golden

Smell in thesunlight by ~goose-fat

A Heeling HeirTo’ve sweet o’ercome the bitter, and warmth the cold,
I would bear the bitter cold gladly,
For the hurt we trade, a return tenfold
In happiness to share we shall receive.
My mirth and merriment are yours to nourish;
Like children on their mothers, their lives depend,
Who without maternal love are doomed to perish—
Their broken lives too shattered to mend.
There’s much for which I wish to thank you,
But I 've far too much to be gracious for.
And the confines of these lines allow only two,
But two my heart and soul do outpour.
Forgiving me without want of recompense;
For giving me the strength to move my pen.

A Heeling Heir by ~Lady-Rosaline

Mea CulpaMea Culpa
- the fault is mine.

You're here again, my beloved. Staring down at the letters etched mechanically into white stone. Does the mere sight of my name wound you so? Were these letters what caused your face to twist into such anguish? The thought alone is a poisoned blade to my heart.

I'm sorry.

I'd go for you, I said. I told you I'd fight for you. That I'd fought to protect you. But maybe I was blinded like all the rest. Maybe... Maybe, even though you took the time and effort to caution me so, even though you risked facing wrath to warn me so... Maybe, I was blinded like all the rest.

I believed, you know? Believed in the glorMea Culpa by ~xShenLong

Mea culpa

Group Info

Our Jungian shadow must be expressed so that we may integrate our disparate selves. vicious-verse shall be a safe haven for the dark poetry that festers within us. We must be completely human if we are to know ourselves.

Group
Founded 1 Year ago
Jan 14, 2012

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Mea Culpa contest results!

Journal Entry: Fri May 17, 2013, 6:23 AM

The results are in for the Mea Culpa Contest! There were many terrific entries (which you can find here), and I’m grateful for everyone who submitted a piece. Judges have reviewed all of the submissions and applied the following criteria to arrive at a point total for each piece:

Creative Use of Prompt

Imagery/Poetic Symbolism

Grammar/Language Use

Overall Impact

And the winners are:

1st Place

The Book of Longing and ForgivenessI.

I welcome
the grief of elephants
and the shards of slowness
in time.

The last breathing tombs
in this earth are eternal
constructs

they
manifest the degree
of my sorrow and forgetfulness.

I embrace the natural laws
of regret.

but of love,

I'm sorry.

I avoid the sound of leaving.

II.

The oceans heave.

The sky, breath heavy
for a single drop--

two bodies of water
colliding.

The earth thirsts.

You don't know,
the half-life of all
my longing leads to you.

I wait for the sound
of forgiveness everyday

a knock on the door, a phone call,
your voice shifting the air
under this vast sky

my heart wanders to this
perfect shade of blue

The Book of Longing and Forgiveness by

~MariaTala will receive 1560 points!

2nd Place

Grape HyacinthsYears ago, in late winter,
you tried to make your sad mommy happy
by clipping off the purple heads
of the grape hyacinths
that grew near the bottom of the stairs
to our front door—
the only spots of color
in the bleak landscape
that comprised both my heart
and the frigid world.

I still see you, as if frozen:
your turned-up, hopeful face
and the green and white sweater that you wore.

You wanted to put summer in a box for me.
Hollow and angry, I turned away.

I sobbed in my bedroom,
my back hard against the wooden door.
I cried for your dashed dreams
and the fact that I could not be the mother you needed
and for the cut

Grape Hyacinths by

*beeinthebottle will receive 250 points.

3rd Place

LuckyMicah brought The Dog home a month ago, leading it by a jumprope he'd tied around its ragged collar. He knelt beside it, begging to keep it, promising he'd take care of it, holding onto Nehemiah's pant leg when he stepped closer to inspect the mongrel for fleas. "Miah, look, he needs me."

It was an ugly terrier with bulging eyes and missing teeth, a bloated belly and thick scars around its eyes. Nehemiah suspected it was blind, and he knew it had worms. The Dog puked on the carpet, and they were writhing in its bile. Nehemiah gathered paper towels and bleach from the kitchen while Micah pet The Dog. "We can't keep it," he told Micah, countin

Lucky by

*glossolalias will receive 100 points.

The three winners were also promised various features. I want to thank everyone who participated in my very first contest and to the judges.

Cheers!

Shane

This Journal Skin was designed by ~Night-Beast
modified by `thetaoofchaos

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Comments

~Dontaex 6 days ago Student

thanks for the accept

=tonepainter Jan 3, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks for requesting "Cliffhangers"!

*alapip Dec 30, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

thank you for featuring 'collateral damage', Shane.

pip

^pullingcandy Dec 24, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

Thank you very much for the request for my piece to your gallery. I appreciate it.

`thetaoofchaos Dec 28, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

You're welcome, Kay.

~Schofield-Alan Jul 8, 2012 Professional Writer

grawlixpoetry.blogspot.com is alive and well! We've been stickering your poetry up around the metro for like four months and it seems the community is eating it up. July's running light on submissions so throw us what you have for our all-in-air-conditioning July issue! Cheers!

~HappyAsASam Jul 8, 2012 Student Writer

Thank you for the request

~SurrealGrotesque77 May 17, 2012 Student Artist

Hi. I run a magazine called Surreal Grotesque, we bring together bizarre art and surreal fiction. While our audience is primarily interested in "horror writing", we like strangeness and surrealism in all forms. we love to help promote artists since we are a free publication, we have a diverse readership of over a thousand people so far. Since we cannot pay, all art remains the property of the artists and we own no part of it, we are merely representing your material to an audience and provide links so that if people are interested they may commission you for your art. If you think you might have something to contribute, email me at: dangrn77@hotmail.com and check out our magazine at www.surrealgrotesque.com.

We also love dark poetry!

`vespera May 23, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

just as an FYI - your website lists everything BUT poetry, so you may want to add that in

a lot of us are gunshy and would assume that that means poetry is a no-go!

~SurrealGrotesque77 May 24, 2012 Student Artist

Okay, I will.

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Mea Culpa contest results!