Cannibalism
⊆ 6:48 PM by Pete | Picks , Poems . | ˜ 2 comments »
Under the moonsong be creeps and vines,
Home of needle fingers and black thornbush,
A rolling of a name atop a tongue,
He chews and spits
And chews
And spits it out.
See the pale shadows of skyships of night,
They dance along god's great lanternshine!
See a grim task of bones and marrows for a dine,
A sweet suckling of pleasure ..
Unchaste, unholy,
And perfectly…
Heavenly.
Silent, they stand, giant guardians of vigil,
Spreading their cloak of darkened wings..
Under the black carpet the creature hides,
Unseen by hunters
And prey alike.
And as tufts of hair scatter the ground,
A hollow vessel lies unwhole,
A faceless stare of a faceless eye,
And a digit cold as a deadened worm.
Friday, August 4, 2006 at 7:44:00 PM PDT MORBID STATE ALERT! This is about cannibalism. Why I wrote it, I don't really know, but I had Edgar Allen Poe in mind when I wrote it. Somewhat.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009 at 2:08:00 AM PDT I like morbid poems...
Extreme themes like that, are the most inspiring...
Don't you think that perversion is a form of evolution?