Each month, write a new collection.
Angelica at the Rock, Georges Seurat her defensive hands hangwithout the slimmest article of modesty— long hairtied away from her body— whilesomeone stares from the shadowsright outside of view.and this Hellis orchestrated,maestro with wanddelivering instructionsharp moansfrom the girl’slips an eruptionof skinthe mutilation of a Cherub,leaving the worldwith just another pretty face.
Love it man! Great poem
AngelicaYou always were an idiotwith your luscious dark hairand smooth, white skinBored with a humdrum happy worldyou sought ways to be differentPartying at night like a vampirefeeding your inner dominatrix alcohol dosed with red bull How that pleasuring felt so freevibrant living without responsibilityNow you hang from your chainilluminated for the world to seeunaware of the darkness of your caverolling your eyes becauseyou thought life would be a little cooler
Oh, I LOVE the way you've updated this!
SeuratShe blisters her wristsWith handcuffsTrapping integrityand her dignity like A bird in a cage to sing a song of freedomWith the door of the cageSwung wide openWanting the sadistic pleasure of menTrapped inside the cage like the soulFull of pain and bondage holding herWithout regardNot to pleaseOnly to punishWith a lasciviousnessPsycheForcing her downThe path of domination
I love the last lines of this poem!
InjusticeThis is not to be born!Who are they, to truss me? These pests of the gutterWho are they, to judge me? I am surely not to blamefor my stationGod placed me! Why am I to suffer, for the misfortuneof these fools? Is it my cross to bare?I did not cast their broken lotsOh, why must they judge? Am I to die, for being me?
Love it! You've occupied the mind of the character
Child Angelica How sad thatExploding from your innocenceAre breasts so firm.There was no chanceTo throw jacks Or meet the morning lightRubbing noses with a cat.Instead lust shattered Your very beingWhy did no familyRescue you.Had they learned Rock chains could not be brokenHad their hungry stomachsTurned their eyes away.Oh mournful eyesYou cut my heartI swim in your sorrowAnd weep.
Ah, beautiful. The poetry of empathy!
in this shameeternity dressedwith your wealth