dark fiction, dark poems, dark poetry, dark writing, fantasy, Fiction, literature, poems, poetry, poetry readings, poetry slams, St. Louis fiction, St. Louis poets, Uncategorized, writer, writing

Friday Night Poetry Corner #3

Greetings again!! Friday Night Poetry Corner is up and running once more. If anyone wants to have their poetry feature please email me a kaydee11@hotmail.com with your poem. Also if you want me to re-blogged a post that has your poem feature let me know as well via email…

Now before I present another one of my works let me preface this entry first. I very seldom write dark poetry; nothing against it, its just I very seldom write them (dark stores is another matter). This poem was written back in 1999 when I lived in St. Louis, MO and just a virgin on the poetry reading scene at that time. I never read this poem; in fact I never shared this with anyone beside two of my closest friends. I will let you be the judge; in some respects its a little too dark for me but I refused to censor myself.

Or just too damn odd?!

Again enjoy and thanks for stropping by for a few. Drink coffee, tea and if you smoke may I advise cigarillos (just do the Billy Clinton though).

imp king

“..you denied his very existence, but bathe in your own iniquity.”
-excerpt from “Damahur” warrior chief Kamus’s speech to the counsel.

You sing the worst song in the world
but never notice
you incline to be,
A servant but asked for proverbs,
Somewhat stink
to bury the last of others,
nothing to speak
to the everlasting creep,
sections of no-dos’ to sleep
On masking cove,
Smiling hatred fills the void
of subtle emptiness.
Oh you feel terror as it grasp only…
Heart.
I splash to alms merchants
I humiliated the humanitarian
I speak to wonders forthcoming
to sections forth—relaxing
I disavowed the clever,
You son of a bitch.
Disgusting menace,
to ill approach
Questions of the prideful
To remember the extrovert,
Via’ extraordinary
to bow before primes sinfully
Telling yourself “It’s a good day”
Plight,
Grief,
Love,
Special,
Faith,
Broad-base cry…
You search all the earth,
Inside the wicket
To discover,
It was me.

honeybadgermusic1blog presents.
honeybadgermusic1blog presents.

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