eclectic text bits/electric sex tricks/three septic wet clits

[English]

i want to put these somewhere.

_tethered

A brutal battlefield battered with blackened bones,
cadavers sewn with scraps of stone make up ashen homes
bereft of tone - except headless crows, cackling, roam
in ghastly droves to scan the road for passing souls lacking hope.
Cancered moulds stagger growth - babies born without a pulse:
hear the heart. It pounds. It won’t. Its sound is false.
Wear the hardship round your throat. Metal lungs
spread the love. Shell and slug pump out the loudest choke.
Found the rope which ties my noose, didn’t try to pry it loose.
Climbed it to defy the tomb, not to live but die anew.


_more extinction

Sleep walkers. Heat-seek slaughter, own chief’s orders: don’t be cautious.
It speaks for us; we breed all this and leave before it’ll breach borders.
Green cord (or ‘leaf orchard’) jeans as I walk awkwardly on the scene,
is it crockery for my condo suite or cotton sheets with knotted seams?
My God is Dream. Give a fuck what the TV in the parlour screams, honestly.
Probably propaganda; lots of anger, wobbled banners, stocks collapse or
cops with badges popping hammers to stop the clamour. Start the camera
-- drop the videotape; stiffen your gait as the video plays
on a loop, but the truth is you’re still in one place: playing dead.
Home wherever you lay your head, whatever, better to stay in bed.


_carpe diem

Disturb dust on a summit’s peak as I blush from a cutting breeze,
disrupt each shoulder holding the burden of allies, and lies,
past lives crushed under bloodied feet: heart thumps a drummer’s beat.
Cardiac movement’s hardly that prudent - exuding lust if lovers sleep.
My spirit is hungry; stomach’s weak: untouched by the coming feast.
Glories of yester-yore are ineffective gauze - hesitant lips caressed a
desolate jaw (it was never much more) - a present exists: at best the
rest is thought. Schematic, presuming you can plan, mentally,
a pattern’s renewing as ancestor’s hand gestures span centuries
but one’s path isn’t proven. My mantra is brief: Man’s meant to be.
I exist in the now, the air whips with a sound my mind garners,
to live in the past or look to the future’s stasis, so why bother?

-
so i put them here. whoever closed my old threads can suck a dick btw

1, 2

[ILLunatic]

ATTENTION @English,

This automated notification is a friendly reminder for you to provide (2) links to other member submissions that you left adequate feedback to. If you have already posted your links, disregard this notification.

[Oxymoron]

Ok i did expect this to be more erotic. Is's more metaphorically erotic i guess. Are these connected? I'll try read them like the are n arent.

1st verse Alright, personally, i did like the rhymes, the alliteration in the first one was cool as. Im not sure I 100% get the first verse, i assume its about war, getting some all good imagry but the direction to me starts out all good and then you lose me around metal lungs, i think thats a bit vague, but i assume you mean somebody got shot? or an iron lung? you come back into focus at the end for me, n end your life, or well wake up reincarnation.


2nd verse was sweet though, that stuff was a good read, flowed nicely and had more focus than the first verse. Someone doing an activity. At present moment i dont think the verses are connected unless the first one is a dream. I get a subliminal message vibe. Leading people to the slaughter.

Sleep walkers. Heat-seek slaughter, own chief’s orders: don’t be cautious.
It speaks for us; we breed all this and leave before it’ll breach borders.

this bit was mean as. as in cool.


3rd, this was a cool piece, well first youre scoping out the old battlefield, and then i get the feeling youre reminiscing on the long war and the hardships, and lastly looking at yourself and how you view the world. I can dig it.

a present exists: at best the
rest is thought. Schematic, presuming you can plan, mentally,
a pattern’s renewing as ancestor’s hand gestures span centuries
but one’s path isn’t proven. My mantra is brief: Man’s meant to be.
I exist in the now, the air whips with a sound my mind garners,

liked this best

[English]

they were unrelated; i just rhymed the title twice because 'eclectic text bits' asked for it.

thanks for looking.

[OG Maestro]

I exist in the now, the air whips with a sound my mind garners,
to live in the past or look to the future’s stasis, so why bother?

Your best bar by far.

My only other favorite portion is when you exhibited alliteration fairly well.

Pretty incoherent but all three sections of rhyme are interesting reads nonetheless.

*thumbs up*