Poetry: Art with Words: Emotions and their lack of.

The Poetry Contributions: Pain and Pleasure.

　

　

This section of The NV-P Blog contains poetry from the many submissions I have been honored to receive over the last month and a half via emails. They span a wide range of emotions, and their lack of, from several perspectives. Unlike like stories and comments, these convey captured thoughts that undoubtedly mattered to their authors, and hopefully, will catch an audience by them that experience and gain knowledge through their  abstract nature.

I have one of my own placed here. Having written over three hundred poems since the twelfth grade, I felt obligated to throw mine into the mix. I will use an alias. I do not wish for credit in this regard.

I have written poetry since I took a creative writing class in high school: Lincoln West, Cleveland Ohio, grad of 1981. I thank a great man that inspired me as well constantly encouraged me to continue and hammer out thoughts onto paper. To put the mind onto black and white and let others sort it out. Art with Words, he called it.

Huge thanks to teacher/mentor, Mr. Merhaut. He opened a door in my life, and mind, that never closed.

If he is still alive, and reads this, I am sorry for the time I punched out and knocked the idiot headfirst into the blackboard for putting gum into my long hair. I only saw red. Then I made the dickhead see red when he came to. Looking back, it wasn’t called assault then, for that I am truly grateful.

Your comment? “write me either a short, highly detailed story or a vivid poem of what you saw versus what you did.”

I gave him both.

I served two detentions for laying that fucker out. Sure, he was much bigger than I, by about a 8 inches in height and 100 lbs in weight. It was his largeness that made a fool of him.

I also got about 4 dates as a result of girls offering to show me how to get gum out of hair without massive chops at it.

Mr. Norman Merhaut: I cannot thank you enough.

　

Into the breach we voyage, with either eagerness or loathing, let us go forth.

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Wanting you:





So bold, so kind,

You took me to place

Of splendid pleasure as our bodies

Twisted

Contorted

Voices screaming

In divine ecstasy

Later shrieks of agony

As you burned my wings

And used me in a way

I so loved and hated losing

I gave you money

Trying to hold onto you like an addict needing

Never ending fixes

I took you into my body

Getting wet with the thought of you

Hours before we

Touched

Connected

Sweaty in writhing passion

You used me

And I miss you still,

Evelyn Masters-Perry

Rhode Island 2009

　

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And you paid for the gas:

　

You took me for the fastest of rides

As I climbed into your car,

Trees passing by in a blur

Speeding through the parks

Of huge trees,

Flashing sunlight thru their breaks

Blinding me so completely

The brightest of greens

Radiant sunlight through new born leaves

Vibrant shades of contrasting colors

Miles clicking as minds get closer

You took me into your body

I took you into my soul

Heat so devastating

California brush fire

Wiping out all rational thoughts

You clamped yourself around me

Tighter and tighter you gripped me

Finger nails tearing into my flesh

Blood trickling down my flanks

Sensations so complete

We came in unison

Laying sweaty and smiling

I left you the next morning

To never called you back,

Keith Wakeman-Guiffria 1994

Lakewood Ohio

　

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I, too, have teeth:

He trashed my gentle being

They thought he was good 4-me

Best friends wanting to make

My train wreck appear before them

To laugh and talk about it

Later over drinks

High-end Black Russians

White Russians

Baileys Irish Crème Coffees



Some friends they were

They knew what he was

Psychopath man about town

Sacrificing me to him

Just because he fed them drinks

Fed their addictions

As they indulged his

With me.



I have something waiting

These friends never to see

Things heading for their lives

I am now bitch

I too have teeth.

Gina White-****** 2012

East Helena Montana



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Lost in your eyes, lies and your thighs:

You came on like the zephyr winds

Caught my sails

Blowing me somewhere

Taking me for a tonsil ride

Allowing me to do

Go

And shoot

You swallowed



So lost in your eyes

Lies

And your thighs

I gave you everything

You asked,

I gave

You suggested

I gave

You asked me to fuck you like no other

I gave

Was trapped

Perversions of sex

Better than the best

Nocturnal emissions

With Hollywood stars

No comparison to you

Blank checks

Debit cards and pin



To keep you by my side

I blew off friends of decades

Family paled in no time

You kept sucking me

By mouth and cunt

Faking noises of fulfillment

Sucking me

And I

Gave

Gave

Craved more and more



Lost in your eyes, lies and your thighs



Building me up

Asking for help

Telling me I was your best

Gas bill is due

Huge cock via text

How you cannot wait

Car payment is late

Meet me at Bayshire Cemetary

Love amongst the dead

Kinky

Mortgage is two months in arrears

I can help

And I did

So lost

In her eyes

Lies

And her thighs

She disappeared as fast as she came

As fast I had cum



I lost myself

Lost most of myself

Lost all who loved me



Counselor asked me

What would you do different

Not a damn thing

He said he could not help me

I left his office

Cold winter winds closed around me

So wanting one like her



So wishing to be sucked



Matthew Murphy 1998

FrankFort Kansas



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I have a bullet with your name on it:



I fell for your bullshit

I fell for your lines

I fell

For you



So much talk

Flowers you gave

Sent them to me at work

You built your place

As coworkers were impressed

More blind than I

Cardboards friends I believed



I became so lost

Oceans beckoning my tiny boat

Further sunrises yet unseen

I’d follow your heading

To climax on distant shores

Took me to 5-stars

Made me a lady of desire

We’d coast

Rise rhythmically

Peak

Gasp desires fulfilled



Leaves changing color

Seasons pass

I am so asleep

Something grows within me

Test is positive

We’d talked of marriage

But you needed to right yourself

Financially

I helped you

When I told you of the dr’s visit

You left in 14 hours

I am about to have our child

You are gone

So coldly I look back

I should’ve known

I have a bullet with your name on it

Justification guides me

I gave you my savings

5 grand

Hopes of clearing you

Debts to be covered

So we could wed.



I bought a gun

One set of bullets

They carry your name

Annie Oakly 2011

Aleysk Russia



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Welcome to the World:



I told you I would use you

I told you I could care less about your family and friends

I told you I’d suck you dry



Being drunk

You gave yourself to me

Because you could strut like

Animals on the Learning Channel



Sorry, dumbfuck

Just give me money

That’s what I want

Wear a strong rubber

I will take you

For everything you got

You so begged for more.



A blowjob

A latex barrier

Did you think that meant anything?

Thinking satisfied

Tossing spent cover out the window of brothers Camaro

Leaving drips on the glass

You went wet

I didn’t

But I sucked you

I used you as I said I would



A fool and his money

Sucked my clit honey

Took me into your mouth

A mouthful of my juices

My flavors

Moaning for more

You so took me into you



Never once thinking of tomorrows



Highest order of stiff cocked males

Dicks as brains that control you

Thinking of yourself first

Never thinking of yourself

In future stance

Defenseless

Your future is so limited now

time bomb growing within you

What part of rubber

You entered my pussy

Did you let your guard slip?



I gave you a present



Darling



When you took in my precious juices

Did you lose your mind?

I told you to put on a Trojan

You obliged so freely

But you went south

And sucked and licked me

I never asked you

I even said you shouldn’t



Welcome to the world of AIDS

Hope you got your bags packed…………….





Christina ******** 2008

Fiuggi Italy





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AN: I believe these poems to be a good sample of what I have received thus far. They cover a vast range of human experience.

I will leave the critiques to you, the reader, to comment on them.

Those outside the USA, humble apologies, please use this as a guide/ help to make things easier on me.

-Mark William Darus 2012/04/29

http://translation.paralink.com/

Catherine: Shiny Blue Tool Box II: last try

Catherine’s Story: Last attempt at Emotions.

Part II: The Catherine Stories.

“ONLY”

　

Titled by Catherine:

(this parts title comes from Catherine <author of Where’s My Fuckin’ Pliers> who

suggested listening to the Anthrax song: Only. Link not posted because it shrinks the font size for some reason>

　

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Last time I thought I felt love for a man was quite a while ago. I remember it fondly. I also remember how it ended.

It was my last ditch attempt to feel, have some emotion for another and try to make myself like the fuckin’ norm in this sad society. I was trying to be a part of this 96% of this population Mark talks about. Yeah, I checked his stats and according to a psychologist named Hare, Cleckley and several others, proved true.
96% not psychopathic. And only the slightest fraction of us go on killing sprees. Like .1 of that percent. And to think we nonviolent make up over 12 million people here! Fuck!

We must be the only goddamned minority in this country that can’t get recognized or get foodstamps, federal aide or job preferences over everyone else.

We may be fantastic manipulators, serious ass intimidators, cunning and self sufficient, but what does that have to do with how the USA handles minorities? Tell me, are we getting a short dick to reach an orgasm with or what? For the testosterone filled, and sexually worthless males here, some frigid bitch, probably your wife, that can’t even utter: ‘oww, baby! Ah!’ during sex.

Save this for another shitty ass rant. Sorry, man. Tangent gone mad. My bad.



His name was Cliff. I met him at some mixer coworkers took me to. He seemed okay enough. Good job, nice hair and not overly extroverted. He gave me a crapload of bullshit lines I didn’t fall and called his ass on every word.

He so cratered when nailed.

Over a few weeks, we got close. Closer than I had ever got with any man.

I so hated my fuckin’ father. That shithead, pussybitch, cunt, deserved to die, My mother, what mother, fuck her! Glad she kicked too.

Cliff and I went to parks and strolled, watched sunsets, sunrises, had what I thought the nicest of lives together. I thought I might have even felt love for this cockwad, thoughts of marriage, school girl stupid fantasy.

Fuck him.

He was my knight in rusty armor.

I told him my past. Gave him my background and this shit I went through. Details, what happened, the pain I felt every cock-sucking day. He’d hug me, tell me it was in the past. We must get on and go forward. He’d be there for me.

He told me he loved me and I believed this. His eyes, brown and clear. His embrace, so surrounding and caring. His words so sincere.

Once I told him, if only he could see my past as I did. If only he could feel what I had felt then.

If only.

Only.

We made love. It was sweet, tender in its connection and rhythm. We joined, my heart climbed higher with this man than any before him. We drifted off to sleep. I fell into dreamland with a smile I had never known.

The next morning he told me he was married and didn’t want to hurt her. He felt so guilty. So bad and crushed by what he‘d done with me. This mother fucker even had the nerve to say, please don’t think bad of me.

He then asked the most miserable question any dumbass male could pass across cunt scented lips:

“what do you think of me?”

What did I think? Oh yeah, big question there.

Thoughts of my folks crashed on me.

I thought of my father.

I thought of my mother.

I then told him I’d make us breakfast.

I made eggs and bacon and sausage. Toast and coffee.

I treated him royal.

He came to eat when I told him it was done, his silly ass came to my breakfast nook naked. Limp dick just hanging out there, smile on his face.

“glad you’re so good about this, honey,” he said. Caught him by the corner of my eye. His smirk, so fuckin’ bold. He thought he pulled one over on me.

My shinny blue toolbox was on the counter.

Before his flapping dick knew what hit him, I slashed his cock as I gave him his plate of breakfast.

Yeah, bloody pork might not be good, but it is your blood, right dickhead?

He looked shocked. I often wondered why. I could not have been the first women to try something like this. How could I be so bold to try this? Didn’t the Bobbitt incident happen? Didn’t Hillary get fucked over by the President of the United States? Weren’t men excluded from the baseball Hall of Fame for womanizing decades later than what they did and after they put their names on the walls of the place?

As he looked at his free flowing cock, he yelled: “I’ll call the cops!!!”

Calmly, still holding the ten inch butchers knife by my side, I calmly said to him. “so, you wanna this public? Make your company know this? Make your ignorant wife know what you are? Go for it! Here’s my fuckin’ cell! Give it your best shot!”

Feeling my almost lost emotionless, psychopathic abilities flood back with a massive vengeance, I added coldly: “I want at least 750 a month, or I will talk.”

Dumbass says: ‘I’ll deny everything.”

I had his house number. I had his work number. I had him by his tiny, pulling upward balls, and he slowly, fucking stupidly, began to realize it.

“what are you gonna tell her? Some absurd zipper accident when leaving the gym gave you that cut? What are you gonna tell her? Huh?”

I pulled out my small Nikon point and shoot, snapped a pic of him in his morning sadness. My kitchen in background with my walls, coffee machine, my fuckin’ Whirlpool dishwasher. He had the ego to step towards me.

Leveling my knife at chest high, I asked him if he really wanted a different outcome than the Fatal Attraction kitchen incident. Sorry, my aim is much better than that of Glenn Close.

He backed off, grabbed his clothes and split.

Did he pay me?

You betcha! It did take me two calls to his job and three calls to his wife. Sure, I left messages with receptionists and his wife about refinance options on his house. It would only cost him seven-fifty a month.

I then got cash.

Every month. I still get payments.

Women of this land! Fuck love when they fuck you over. You gave them your thoughts, deepest feelings, your faith and emotions. And all they could do was attempt to blow you off? Stand up and take matters into your hands.

Sometimes it takes a knife and an ability to actually wheeled it. Some memory and an ability to remember numbers and the names of those closest to him. Never, and I fucking mean NEVER, be without some form of digital camera with at least 5 plxls to catch the moment and keep his faux ass in check.

Remember this, my sisters: If you kill this asshole, especially after he says shit about being married, you got him. Don’t fail to call the Date Rape card. If you did drugs together, claim Roofies!

<<<AN: The Date Rape drug aka Roofies>>>

The tests for this will show for both parties. Drugs in the systems. You will so have the sympathy of all but the bastards sad ignorant wife, maybe her family, though I doubt it. You will never be brought to trial. Why? You got pics, semen samples that only a President could get away with proving , and alcohol and/or drugs on a TOX screen.

I lost all thought of love and emotions once again. It hurt me. Seriously hurt me to some psychology type core. Fuck love, fuck men and most all of like my parents taught me. Fuck Emotions!

　

Mr. Mark William Darus, go fuck yourself with the largest of dildos! This blog of yours has hit points that cause me sleepless nights. Flashbacks of yesterdays my shrinks would revel in!, My writings, as your blog has made me compelled to contribute to. My emails give you permission to post, but damn you!

The Prey and Predator alike? Equal ground? You have done this, some peoples GODS can only know how you keep pulling if off.

This really is Psychopathy Another Life. Another Life is quite appropriate.

Did you know where this would lead us all? Did you know you’d hit over 1200 post in a month and a half? Love it here though. In the Spirit of Tron: No problems, No compromise, ONLY solutions…

　

Catherine.

　

AN: Thanks, Catherine. I know you made the ‘dildo’ remark as a term of endearment. LOL.

I had no idea this would take off like it did. If I had a sense of pride, I have little doubt I would feel it most strongly.

Only by Antrax, good choice.

Tron: Only Solutions. One of the best Journey songs ever.