PhysicianMengele on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/physicianmengele/art/Josef-and-Irene-595092062PhysicianMengele
PhysicianMengele on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/physicianmengele/art/Mikls-Nyiszli-585229583PhysicianMengele
Your Lovely Bones
I long not for your words or your flesh or your smile, Just the white of your bones, their crescent curves, Pressed hard against my hungry lips. I would claw through sinew like freshly dug earth, Could guzzle your blood like communion wine, If only to peel open that which cages your heart. My fingers ache with unrestrained lust, To touch where your skin becomes polished and carved, And play you like piano keys, Till the age-sharpened edges make my skin weep in shards, My breath still and heavy, dead in my chest, At the thought of my blushing cheek Resting on the rising ridges of your torso. I dream nightly of sleeping amidst your
There's no heavier burden to carry Than the weight of a life unlived Never been a darker bride to marry Than the one who would waste their gifts I have but one desire That's to regain the fire And to this I aspire To again feel the pyre To let the flames climb higher There's no sadder sight to behold Than to watch the dying cinder Never a tragedy that's been so cold Than those who would do naught but hinder There's not a more lonely night to wait through Than to keep glancing at the door Never a more painful tear to kill you Than to see your dark bride once more
an atheist's prayer
dear god, i planted no tulips in autumn and no tulips came in spring. how silly of me, then to mourn the empty garden, to long for fields of amsterdam, to kneel at night in cold dirt, hands folded. i’ve learned there is a certain ache in lacking a thing never had, that small itch whose relief is two seasons past – so god, if you can hear me, know that i am homesick for amsterdam, whose name, like yours, i know but whose flowers i cannot see.
FridgePoetProject on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/fridgepoetproject/art/The-Daily-Magnet-56-533313879FridgePoetProject
Verwurzlung fern von Beton und Staat
Blauer Himmel und weiße Wolken Trotz Dezember Im Dezember. Ich lächel nach oben Und das Leben in mich. Nicht mein Leben als Explizites, Sondern das Leben in uns allen. Ich begreife viel dieser Tage, Ohne dass mein Sprachzentrum mitkommt. Ich verbinde, was kluge Menschen sagen, Mit verschiedenen Backgrounds, Ich verflechte Gedanken Und es gibt ein größeres Bild: Nur ein Teil und eine Möglichkeit. Verwurzlung fern von Beton und Staat, Sozialisierung bleibt, Aber Knoten lösen sich.
My supernova exploded, my coronal mass ejecting, leaving me a shell of myself, a neutron star core rotating— swiftly on axis, unbalanced, shifting about and wobbling— aimlessly through the universe, desperate need of steadying… I feel your hands touch along me, your strength restrained while timidly you grasp to the shards, the strongest, those that have endured fragilely, afraid they may break, or shatter, if you hold them too securely, but still you clutch on without pause, these pieces of me, steadfastly. The next thing I know, you begin, with a painstaking devotion, shards are fit in place one by one, constructing my n
I hope your sails burn When next you set sail And the wind fans the flames So overboard you'll go I hope the sea swallows you And drags you down slowly So you can feel every second Away from the surface I hope when you hit bottom You'll survive long enough To remember what you said When you were intoxicated I hope that once you've drunk Your fill of salt water You die full of regrets For the emptiness in your head I hope the fish feast On your tongue and teeth And the sharks leave you To be broken by the reef I hope you shatter Into a million pieces And your soul bubbles Into oblivion I hope you sail straight to Hell
My little visitor
In a dream you come to me and I hold you like a baby. You purring loudly in my ear, I sense that you forgave me. I caress your head in my hand and press a kiss upon your cheek. I miss you my little one, is all that I can speak. Thank you for this flying visit, it seems you have no time. Your spirit brings me so much comfort, I know that you´ll be fine. So off you go and leave me, one time more, up over the bridge into the clouds, through the cat-flap in God`s door. 12.06.2016
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