Variations On Emotional Suicide, the new release from wurdz.click on the book to buy it today!

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CEO and founder of Wurdzpoet, Inc. 

Sunday, May 29, 2011

take me with you

mama nem
said there'd be
days like this...
but those alloted to me
have turned sour.
wax mold smeared
into permanent stains
which exhibit my disdain.
that's why it came
like a blessing it did~
that beam
of salvation
pulsating with a power
that sang to me
in tones of tomorrow.
i longed for this entity
that would be my transition
to a better life...
anything would suffice.
yet this tube of tribulation
brightened the night sky
as day
and turned my angst
into anticipation.
i was lifted up high,high
smiling as my worries faded
into the ever shrinking chaos
that lay behind me...
until a booming horn sounded,
sending my wretchedness
cascading once more to reality.
i never saw them again
after that.
stories and stories of stories
increased my confidence for naught.
...so i search the skyline
at twilight
hoping for another glimpse
of deliverance.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

400

from mt olympus
you ascend,
feeding the eternal
flame of wanton lust
embedded in the minds
borne distaff.
a creation of perfection
sculpted intent~
molded specifically
to prevail.
indeed dost thou evoke
fables of yore
that burn and yearn
for release
through taciturn
words turned rogue.
a machine...
nay a masterpiece
given to mere mortals
for the sole sake
of glandular endearment~
twofold
climactic swoon
and burdened beast
of war.
dare we partake?
this flesh,
this man,
this canonized
illusion
authorized to reality.
chiseled stone
filled with emotions
poured to brim
from empowered hands...
watch over us
in magnificent splendor
as we cast our gaze
away. inspired by Walter Parada

Saturday, May 21, 2011

upon the eighteenth hour

shrieks and shouts
the shakes
of tongues on fire...
held captive
watching,waiting
for that purple sky.
all consuming chaos
obliterating the masses
to the sound of swords
slicing succinctly
through sinew and skin.
pulling forth amazement
before the uplifting begins,
four horsemen take the forefront.
steel ablaze with the atonement
for sinful delights
made fleshly
with carnal knowledge.
death,destruction
where art thou?
can the evidence of things unseen
survive a slap so furious?
oblivious to the meaning,
creation regurgitates
a lie to make the truth
look like a lie.
turn away
lest the ground engulf those
whom swallow the red drink
with glee.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

midnight in the candy shop

can i
lick the bowl
and savor
each delicious mouthful?
tracing the lines
which capture my fancy,
i slide south
and slither
my taste over mountains
of cocoa~
sugar free?
i scoff at the mention
of such absurdity.
the sound of your moans
call to me in luscious tones
that threaten
to pull the cream forth
before time...
we shall not partake of that dance.
my sole purpose
is to dine
on platters of pleasure
while a hungry libido
tangos with your sticky
french kiss.
undulating waves of yearning
grip you
and toss caution aside.
do you mind
if we entomb ourselves
in the euphoria
of delights
only our entangled love
can conceive?
liquid ecstasy,
falling like sugar,
spills into my eager throat
and you exhale your soul
for scrutiny.
the softness i meet upon entry
is a masterpiece
of confectionery art.
we gleefully writhe
in unison...
our recipe complete
but not yet fulfilled.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

the plastic army man samba

wind me tales
of stormy skies
filled with chaos and mayhem
gone mutant...
bedazzle my psyche with the hymns
dripping with valor
sang by men
covered in burgundy wine~
chests poked in pride
and prejudice.
i'll lend an ear
and intently surmise
while the canvas
undulates and weaves,
birthing the story
only a select few are chosen
to paint.
through the half blind madness
i hear screams,
cries,
the laughter of trigger men
gone insane.
sips from a canteen
drowned in jack
to drown out the attack.
under fire from winged demons
dropping black eggs of death.
the spray of severed digits
and squish of torn flesh...
while commanders bark
from towers of ivory,
oblivious to the living hell
that consumes.
tell me a tale
of buxom bosoms,
heaving in the cool of night
as the need to forget
rears it's toothy grin.
an angel
bought for five dollars,
tells you how handsome you are
as another waits his turn...
back to the valley
for another game of chance.
one orb was expendable,
dare you live without both?

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