Submissions by IMAGO (Viwe Lugongolo)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I don't make sense but I sure rhyme
Fattie, Don't Twist!
i feel naughty
prohibit me from dancing
every step
makes my torso less appealing
if you kneal
you get diamonds
now let me use your nipples
as my dancing shoes
your face will make a great disco ball
hanging from my ceiling
butt-cheeks like a kareoke machine
they swallow all my coins
your fingernailssplit my sack
fattie,don't twist!
high from my lower-back
crack that whip
i'm biting your cone-bra
i used to have a boot kink
now all she wears
is rubber shoes
...
prohibit me from dancing
every step
makes my torso less appealing
if you kneal
you get diamonds
now let me use your nipples
as my dancing shoes
your face will make a great disco ball
hanging from my ceiling
butt-cheeks like a kareoke machine
they swallow all my coins
your fingernailssplit my sack
fattie,don't twist!
high from my lower-back
crack that whip
i'm biting your cone-bra
i used to have a boot kink
now all she wears
is rubber shoes
...
398 reads
0 Comments
Nail-Biting
I bite my nails
to pick my teeth
Reading lines in braille
between bits of meat
I pull her hair
to pick her brain
Blood down her nape
runs cold
I bite her bottom lip
to remove the gag
Undressing her tongue
Devoid of screams
She bites her nails
to pick my brain
to pick my teeth
Reading lines in braille
between bits of meat
I pull her hair
to pick her brain
Blood down her nape
runs cold
I bite her bottom lip
to remove the gag
Undressing her tongue
Devoid of screams
She bites her nails
to pick my brain
730 reads
3 Comments
Enter The Angst
i need to be upset
to compose my wrath
into a well-oiled machine
designed to vanquish
the solace of the serene
taunted by everything
that has a sound beat
cornered by the blade
that never bends
i need to be composed
my discomfort
is rested upon your rapture
over smiles,it hovers
like a raptor
i need to be calm
to execute my ferocity
and to embalm
the dead tissue of my wrath
to compose my wrath
into a well-oiled machine
designed to vanquish
the solace of the serene
taunted by everything
that has a sound beat
cornered by the blade
that never bends
i need to be composed
my discomfort
is rested upon your rapture
over smiles,it hovers
like a raptor
i need to be calm
to execute my ferocity
and to embalm
the dead tissue of my wrath
217 reads
3 Comments
Viscus Trade
viscus trade,
a litmus page,
alkaline bile,
camomile, brine
entrails,
for sale,
for nourishment,
for a shamanist grail
there's no telling,
who will pay the price,
of encountering,
those who slay for life
innards contort,
severed victims,
out of sorts,
bladders of mystics,
in all the trading ports
there's no telling,
when you'll need a concave blade,
for there's only room for the depraved,
in this;our thriving business of organ trade
a litmus page,
alkaline bile,
camomile, brine
entrails,
for sale,
for nourishment,
for a shamanist grail
there's no telling,
who will pay the price,
of encountering,
those who slay for life
innards contort,
severed victims,
out of sorts,
bladders of mystics,
in all the trading ports
there's no telling,
when you'll need a concave blade,
for there's only room for the depraved,
in this;our thriving business of organ trade
196 reads
7 Comments
My Match
i etched your breasts
on a matchbox
with a scalpel
that way
i could always
dream of fondling them
whenever i lit a cigarette
on a matchbox
with a scalpel
that way
i could always
dream of fondling them
whenever i lit a cigarette
538 reads
3 Comments
iGNIS fATUUS
gagged with stool
wedding ghouls
steady fuel
fed him stool
deathly feuds
festive duels
domestic cue's
collective drool
proactive spew
spastic prudes
wretched few
fractured wombs
deflated bones
BEHEADED DRONES
wedding ghouls
steady fuel
fed him stool
deathly feuds
festive duels
domestic cue's
collective drool
proactive spew
spastic prudes
wretched few
fractured wombs
deflated bones
BEHEADED DRONES
168 reads
1 Comment
Intra-Uterine Device
Animals;
bleeding on the little things
that infest
Man;
feeding and leeching
onto sickled fins
Fish;
netted in
along the coast
Dung Beetles;
pushing balls of compost
Birds;
fleeting from their own wings
Plants;
pleasuring themselves
Aphids;
hot on pursuit
of healthier eating habits
Ice;
wants to be thin
Protozoa;
inhabitants of bong-water
Fire;
always has a playful mind
Wind;
brings about change,
altering its speed...
bleeding on the little things
that infest
Man;
feeding and leeching
onto sickled fins
Fish;
netted in
along the coast
Dung Beetles;
pushing balls of compost
Birds;
fleeting from their own wings
Plants;
pleasuring themselves
Aphids;
hot on pursuit
of healthier eating habits
Ice;
wants to be thin
Protozoa;
inhabitants of bong-water
Fire;
always has a playful mind
Wind;
brings about change,
altering its speed...
191 reads
2 Comments
A Birthday Poem
It rained on my birthday,
Showers of gifts
I felt gray,
All the thrift-stores were closed
It was a Sabbath,
My greeting card was set aflame
I made my wish,
The sky was all the cake I ate
The Southern Crux,
Was a cluster of candles
25 years of torture,
Atleast,today there were no paperplate cuts
It rained on my birthday,
The sky was baked
Showers of gifts
I felt gray,
All the thrift-stores were closed
It was a Sabbath,
My greeting card was set aflame
I made my wish,
The sky was all the cake I ate
The Southern Crux,
Was a cluster of candles
25 years of torture,
Atleast,today there were no paperplate cuts
It rained on my birthday,
The sky was baked
1340 reads
3 Comments
Full Metal Jacket
I hope
your full metal jacket
keeps you
safe and warm
Shoot to conceive
Dying to grieve
Don't say soft-core
when every word
is armour-piercing
Your lips
have a high
muzzle-velocity
Don't say soft-tipped
when your tongue
is filled with fired cartridges
Bang!
I am out cold
Bang!
You are
a trigger-happy fool
your full metal jacket
keeps you
safe and warm
Shoot to conceive
Dying to grieve
Don't say soft-core
when every word
is armour-piercing
Your lips
have a high
muzzle-velocity
Don't say soft-tipped
when your tongue
is filled with fired cartridges
Bang!
I am out cold
Bang!
You are
a trigger-happy fool
185 reads
1 Comment
Black Umbrella Girl
Rosie Cotton
Rose to the bottom
Noble-hearted like the horse
Riding out her discourse
A hypochondriac like Carl Wheezer
I am the Cloud Keeper
King Of The Hill like Bobby
She looks after Angelica Pickles as a hobby
She is villianous like Natasha Fatale
She shares traits with Josie And The Pussycats
Papercraft meteoric proportions
Naked-eye class is in session
Rose to the bottom
Noble-hearted like the horse
Riding out her discourse
A hypochondriac like Carl Wheezer
I am the Cloud Keeper
King Of The Hill like Bobby
She looks after Angelica Pickles as a hobby
She is villianous like Natasha Fatale
She shares traits with Josie And The Pussycats
Papercraft meteoric proportions
Naked-eye class is in session
199 reads
0 Comments
Don't Help Me
songs that help me
think of you
help me write
things i had not
the will to do
lines i hear
help me express
things i wish not
to attest
afflicted in excess
admitting to my duress
is what i never digress
poems
that help me forget
help me
read your lips
i struggle
with words
as the preface
of your muzzle
pates my fingertips
reading your mind's
adaptations
helps me deal
with abnegation
affection is taxation
my thoughts made
the last transaction...
think of you
help me write
things i had not
the will to do
lines i hear
help me express
things i wish not
to attest
afflicted in excess
admitting to my duress
is what i never digress
poems
that help me forget
help me
read your lips
i struggle
with words
as the preface
of your muzzle
pates my fingertips
reading your mind's
adaptations
helps me deal
with abnegation
affection is taxation
my thoughts made
the last transaction...
230 reads
2 Comments
Monotheism
Round-table discussions,
I know you feel cornered
Everything turns,
But your stomach
Flat-chested,
Yet you seem quite perky
You face the world,
With your back turned
Behind you,
Is everything you had-
Before-
Fingers cross,
At the point at which you turn
You are a wreck-
Tangled-
Wishing the wax out of candles
There's no turning around,
Tables have burnt to the ground
Up in the ionosphere;
Voices of Gods,
I almost hear
I know you feel cornered
Everything turns,
But your stomach
Flat-chested,
Yet you seem quite perky
You face the world,
With your back turned
Behind you,
Is everything you had-
Before-
Fingers cross,
At the point at which you turn
You are a wreck-
Tangled-
Wishing the wax out of candles
There's no turning around,
Tables have burnt to the ground
Up in the ionosphere;
Voices of Gods,
I almost hear
298 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by IMAGO (Viwe Lugongolo)