Archive for January, 2013

The Lounge Scene

You’re dancing with the devil and you don’t even know it…. And she wears a blue dress just like Mosley wrote it….. Dirty dancing with Diana or Deumos you can’t tell…. But its 2 am in this lounge and your times up as well…. You drank her poison all night…. A Vail over your eyes….. She’s a wolf in Sheep’s clothing and you fell for disguise… Full off of spirits but lost to your own…. Your free will isn’t yours as you pull out your phone….. She puts in her number then she hands it right back her names saved as lamia…. To late you’re under attack…. By this cruel puppeteer that pulls all the right strings … You’re a sucker for women and feelings they bring….. Its 3 am now…. Time to make a choice…… Leave this lounge with your friends or give in to Lilith’s voice….. The decision is made and your judgment is set…. you left with a fair goddess but in time you’ll regret…. Getting in her red car…. Ha … She said she calls it Christine headed down route 6 never again to be seen.

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Mother and child

This is my first poem ever. I wrote it for a writing contest. This was the rough draft. Enjoy

It’s late she’s awake laying in a cold sweat…. But the hate in her body it still grows yet…. For what was done to her was no fair deed … Left with bad credit and two hungry mouths to feed…. She plots and she ponders how to seek sweet revenge she decides that the blade is the quickest way to end. … The life of the scum that put her through so much hell …if she cuts him just right he can lived there as well … She goes to the kitchen then comes back to the room…. Knife in hand light coming in from the moon…. It’s perfect the times right there’s a pillow over head…. She cuts him so deep the white sheets become red…. she lifts up the pillow to get one more glance and when she does that she enters a trance … For it wasn’t him but was his seed she had ended…. She still killed part of him but not the part she intended … He wins again she says why should I live with this pain…. She shares the blade with child … … Chicago new reads…. Mother and child found slain.

Motivation

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. ~Anaïs Nin