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I hear a knock upon my door

Afore I open it, I know who you are.

I know why you’ve come

and what you’ll do

I stand and bare my thigh to you.


You snap the ampoule

suck up its venomous elixir

The silver hypo needle

sharply pierces

it’s contents courses

though my body


A trickle of blood

seeps from my vein

the only trace of you

that remains.

I sit upon the hard cold floor

watch you depart, shut the door.


From down here I can not fall

back slumped against the wall.

Yet I continue sinking in despair

Not a single soul to hear my prayer 

As I sink my blood boils

At the sight of heinous, insidious gargoyles


With eyes like tempest swirling fast

I exhale this breath. . . Alas, my last!


HadesHellSheolThe Underworld

◄ Sacred sacrament

Type 2 Diabetes ►


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Paul Sayer

Mon 2nd Mar 2020 23:04

Don you are so right, balance in all things.

Whilst doing my Martial arts training I learnt the need to find balance at every level. Often the Masters would use poetry, origami, bonsai, flower arrangements, music, calligraphy, art. etc. to maintain their softer, feminine side.

Meditation is the key to everything!
Everything 'can' be a meditation.


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Paul Sayer

Mon 2nd Mar 2020 22:57

Thank you for your thoughtful comment Martin.


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Don Matthews

Mon 2nd Mar 2020 22:24

We all get inspirations
In many different ways
Depending on the circumstance
Depending on the days

Sometimes it can be gayful
Sometimes it can dark
There's nothing wrong with either
As long as the balance is right......


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Martin Elder

Mon 2nd Mar 2020 22:02

This poem almost trips along like a carefully choregraphed dance
Love it
nice one Po

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Paul Sayer

Mon 2nd Mar 2020 21:01

I am so pleased that this poem has attracted the amount of feminine attention that it has.

Binte, Hallielle, Catherine, Do, Hannah. I would like to thank you all for your likes.

Often I withhold some of more dusky musings, they often arrive on a day that brings some of the darker sides of life out into the everyday world... Thankfully most do not see the events of the day that seep from my ‘working mind’ melding with the day to day reality of . . . Well, normal life.

I find much solace in writing poetry, however, at times I know some of my inspirational input originates in minds that have left this world behind under very dark circumstances and they like me, find release from the events that led to their demise via these avenues.

So thank you all.

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Hannah Collins

Mon 2nd Mar 2020 20:48

Powerful writing.


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M.C. Newberry

Sat 22nd Feb 2020 15:00

"Sheesh!" - as a famous old film actor used to say.

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Don Matthews

Sat 22nd Feb 2020 04:31

Good Golly Po I'm lost for words
Have you gone off with the birds?
Mathematically is it 'bout surds?
Or perhaps yet related to turds?



Sat 22nd Feb 2020 03:54


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Don Matthews

Sat 22nd Feb 2020 03:45


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