Hungry Eyes

Deviation,
from segregation,
the white serpent,
rattles towards its captive audience.

Red eyes of the beast,
flicker and sweat,
as it tightens round its followers.

This feast is only delectable
when its prety is toyed with and tortured.

Ground Control

Every seven and a half years Saturn returns,
and the unpenetrable shield I've spent years protecting myself with, crumbles.

I'm vulnerable to dark outside forces,
and unable to emotionally detach from the violent and hideous deformities that creep into the heart.

I listen to those voices shouting,
you're not good enough,
kill yourself,
it's all your fault.

I fear when dawn is dead
and I drown in the black lake,
you'll watch from a place of light
and see that I can't be saved.

A family curse,
to be both good and evil.

Pure intent, love, and light,
jerked away and raped by unholy evil.

Surfin' USA

"Dive!" she shouts, knowing full well that I'll take the brunt of the pain.

Like lightning, it hits, shooting up my elbow and down my spine.Strangers hands, grope and squeeze every inch of my backside, causing my anxiety to rise, but I stay afloat above the sea of neo-punk monsters.

She falls hard, on top of me and rolls to her back.  Festering punk-heads move from my body to hers, as I start to sink into the crowd. She extends her ring pop hand, so we don't separate, but I feel the crowd flock to her.

Touching,
feeling,
molesting,
violating her.

I try to sit up, but my weight causes me to sink more.

I feel the crowd below me get restless.  One leg drops to the floor like the Titanic.

"Diz!" she screams, as she's carried off, my amazon princess offered up to the gods.

A second wind ignites the room and I'm thrust back into the air.

I fly for a split second, before crashing head first into a pile of Mohawks.  Angrily, they roll me toward the front of the crowd, spitting in my face and dowsing me in warm beer.

My journey's ended, as two mack truck security guards grab me by the neck and pull me down from the crowd.

I'm escorted back to the masses where Shandi waits.  She lip locks me, numbing any soreness I might have had.

"Go again?" she balks.

"Hell yeah." 

Quiver and Quake

There are nightmares in the stars.

It feasts on souls of the youth,
hiding in plain sight.

Faster than a love spit cigarette,
beauty is undermined,
while joy crushed smiles,
ooze and pulsate from their flesh wounds.

All quiver and quake,
as beasts cocoon the last known civilation,
known for its chaotic,
irrational,
erratic,
non-denominational,
savagery.

There is hope in the stars. 

Only the gods and monsters can tame us now.