KINKYSCREAMS's blog: "Dark Poetry I wrote."

Looking to heaven I scream in pain. They can't hear me I scream in vain. A heart dies slowly it hurts so bad. Been starving for you I feel so sad. So beautiful,elusive and never to be mine. Tears run down my face in a straight line. To drown this heart and feel no more. Flow away from me to some distant shore. I see it all around me so close to touch. Why even try you've hurt me too much. Don't feel sorry I know you can see. That you created this horror,this monster,this me. KinkyScreams 2001©

morning is a requiem to tranquillity, in his bedroom cathedral of cruel light pain stalks awareness like a cat leaps, claws nerves cant move, nailed to the cross of another day get out of bed gets half way I must I cant, falls back and cries, lays back and sighs fumbles under his pillow for an antidote of memories, stories and photographs, theres one when he could walk hear, see a world more than intersecting walls tries to get up from, trapped, in the paralysis between vertical and horizontal more than photographs cant nailed to the cross of a another day today, like any day gets out of bed has to ... gets half way gets .... half ... way cant remembers ... when he was a soldier an officer, the Polish cavalry re-wrote Cervantes a thousand don quixotes their horses crushed by German tanks a thousand unknown soldiers seeds in furrows of blood their memory flowers in his eye shot he fell somehow survived, a prisoner of war, then refugee selling bootleg vodka and stolen cigarettes reading gogol by candlelight dead souls, playing jazz ... ah, ... it all falls through a hole ... getting old is getting more holes in your head for more of you to fall through but sunlight is irresistible even through eyes shut against pain, through near deaf ears hears carillon birdsong, unfolds the impenetrable mystery of hope unfurls his heart, arms open he greets his son, grandson beloved granddaughter they never age... my wife is beautiful, smiles, remembers, children, beauty, love, immortality is impermanence, like music the next note will always preserve what has gone before, what will be ... gets half way remembers ... his trumpet, piano, jazz at the Trocadero Monk, the Duke, Cool sits up doesnt fall the next step finds the rhythm, gets up must find that trumpet and blow he will ... music, like children seeds of our immortality, fruit of memories. walking now, with feet of clouds a smile crescendo, now a laugh, fades into light and silence, a receding shadow, a last goodbye ©KinkyScreams 2005

Some may say I am opinionated Because I speak my mind But I see it as my freedom I speak it because it's MINE Mine to hold Mine to cherish each and every day Mine to love, mine to hate Mine to be my own person in my own way So call me names Relinquish your control You may take my body But you'll NEVER have my soul! KinkyScreams 2006©

On a crisp clear night the stars shine down harder than on a midsummer eve. Perhaps the chill of autumn has reached up with it's frosty hand to cool their heat. Perhaps it is that they look down now upon empty fields and seashores all the lovers hiding inside away from the cold. Thinking of all the tears that were cast upon the night to show their way. Why must love cry for them to see what they can be? Their beach is empty and quiet filled only with lonliness In the sand their prints fade away in their hearts they burn forever. Each going their own way not knowing what tomorrow will bring only certain in what it wil not. KinkyScreams 2006©

I looked around the room Eyes searching, peircing the gloom Finding not solace or light Left all alone in my plight I began to run, and run No pre-planned destination But I just had to make a start Running away from a broken heart Its a race you are doomed to loose The cruelest cut, the deepest bruise Never, ever get away But you just might love, another day KinkyScreams 2006©

A single candle is lit at the end of the dusk. The sky darkening to it's rich and royal purple. A red wine sits untouched on a mantle. The velvet richness is felt. Her lips like rubies burn your face as they press. Her eyes a solid passion, walled deep in your mind. Her skin like cream, her hair like silk. A voice of an angel as she whispers your name. So long ago had it begun, just a simple word in the dark to her. She called your name and you turned, knowing you never gave it. Her smiled pierced the ice that was your heart. Your romance blossom into Passion. A simple ring placed on her finger and all of your desires were then truth. With the patience of Gods you both explored the love you had. Eternal as the stars above, deep as the oceans below. Never a moment went without her face imprinted on your soul. So many years now have gone by and still it is as it was. Her face, now aged, just as divine as it ever was. Two lovers in a celestial paradise. Your hands, weak with age, hold hers tight and close. Her eyes, green as jade, stare into yours. You sink slowly into the forever of eternity. ©KinkyScreams 2006

Twisting, turning, passing through time. Coldness, darkness, dissapointed. Look into the eyes of the child. See the ribbons of naked glass. Come to me. Tragity pulls us in. Holds us tightly in it's grip. Dont pull from me. Does it prove to much for you to love? Can you see me? Feel me? Touch me? Come to me? Softness, heated, erotic, passions. Turning to pity of the soul. Rape me . Hold me. Tell me I am yours. Can you taste me now? Rip past the bones an flesh feel me now Come to me? Desicrate me. Pass up my soul. Head for the heart. Leave me naked in the ground. Rot, stench, oozing puss of a body. My love now sour in the liveing world. I see through it all now. I still love you. I still feel you. I can still taste you. Now... I come to you. KinkyScreams © 2006

I woke up too sick to get out of bed. I was up too late dancing with the ghosts in my head. drank too much wine and wished I were dead- I was up too late dancing with the ghosts in my head. I could be ok and not feel so wasted if each ghost that spun me round the floor didn't wear your face. so I spend the night in a melancholy place- toasting each memory that I can't replace. maybe one more drink can lay these ghosts to rest. ©KinkyScreams 2006

Does he hear when i cry? quietly, god so pathetically in the library? quietly, so consumingly when i fall asleep, alone, always alone and cold? Does he know i'm not stupid? that i know that no one really cares? even when they say they do? beware of men bearing gifts Does he know that i'm aware? that i'm aware that i'm alone? that i know my cross to bear is mine? Does he know that i'm already broken? and have been for years? The shards that my life has made of me wrapped delicately in tape? Or does he just see the packaging like everyone else and assume i'll be okay? Nobody knows and now he joins them so typical That voice so harsh so piercing so real so truthful actions speak louder than words that voice speaks volumes the actions scream indifference All the answers are no This romance is bullshit a childish memory...a pacifier for what is real This leaves a shell of a shell of a shell and no one hears And even if they did, they'd pretend they cared and move on always nothing special... ©KinkyScreams 2006

To the ground falls another vivid scarf With each undulation Veils of every hue tease the senses of those who watch. Finger cymbals dance Mirroring the motion of her hips Creating music to the tapping of her feet. In the firelight The coal-dark hair shimmers Falling in waist-length waves that swirl as she spins. Madame Gypsy floats upon a cloud Evoking sinful thoughts of passion and sensuality Calling to the heavens with each breathless note she sings. The wagon train travels into the sun On a luminous autumn day One by one each person steps into her wagon. Shadows and images swirl within a sphere of crystal Slowly they become clear Likenesses of what has yet to come appear within the haze of shades. If you grace her palm with silver She'll read yours Divulge to you what lies beyond. Will I live forever? Will I ever fall in love? Will my life be full of joy? To these questions there are no answers All that can be foretold Is what the stars are willing to surrender. With a pass of the hand And a twinkle in her eye She'll tell a good tale. But was it what you wanted to hear? Was her word worth your coin? ©KinkyScreams 2006