[x]

Spell Book -Tappings Chapter IWhen you're dead I'll pluck 12 hairs
but leave your voice gas hanging there
I'll wash your eyes, and shoo the flies
and steal your clothes to chew and wear

Stable cables shunt the tears
I'll fold you up in metric thirds
With lips against your hollowed ear
I'll trickle in my sing-song words

And "Sleep" you will, and "Live" I might
Bones and blood all bundled tight
Rot you down and mark the air
No fame, no name, no stone to bear

And "Rise" you will and "Leap" I might
You won't exist until that night
Ignited soul I look to tow
Pipe lines burning - here we go.

Dinner of The DamnedWhen it rains,
the rust developes mostly where ever you've put your hands.
No galvanized gallance in our stonewear.

And we may as well cook in these chipped, orange irons
outside where the elements can boil and bless
those things we can't be sure are consumable -
letting nature take its course.

Stained, greedy smiles
we agree this never turns out too bad.
Every supper killing each other-
those vital-minute minerals.

Bones float and seasons sink and fingered flakes disappear.
We bang our teeth while waiting.
There is a meat in the air-
a sign its all alright.

In the strength it takes to protect a left-over,
there's no guara

Humble HomeShe dragged one heel bone of anger along the floor boards
collecting spinters to pick out later as she knew it would be a long life.
The key in her pocket didn't fit anything
so it stayed on the ring for years
fondled between her fingers everytime she would whisper
for anything she felt she had lost.

She was licking stains left from the lasso of a lover
and keeping warm the left-behind brine.
Pots boiled over while she hung by the door and called out a name
that meant nothing to the Lord.
Chirps of worship slipped out between longings
as idol ghosts flooded in her eyes.

Tattoos goosed her skin and seemed to end where scars begin

Actually Lived to See It...There is nothing so powerful as a hole blown through you
by something so enormous
and enamouring as a scorching force of extinction-level gravity
that pulls your chest downward in its landing descent
as much as it removes a perfect circlet
of everything that cancers you.

And you will be made whole by such a blast.
A vast round noteable nothing left by a combustible velocity
as sweet and black as carbon - and costly
Passed onto the lips from chewing your own love sick demise.
Burned alive.
And I am strung up high by a beast who kisses
all the very same parts he grabs and drags
so determined
through patches of catch-22's and

Silent FallTake my toe and off we go
I'll grab your shoulders, hope we blow
both high and low without descent
We'll straighten all the rhymes we've bent
With eyes wide hoping there'll be time
For you and me and death by whine
So I won't leave if you don't leave
Twist and turn in silence - breathe
Spreading fingers, cracking pelvis
shapes of boney bruises tell us
take it easy, though our bodies
tend to do these things, but god we
sure had fun and now we're done
Go get the bullets, I've the gun
We'll kiss as planned then join our hands
It's over and we're out.

Blue Balloon GoodnightsThey rise to a height
where balloons burst of fright
To Die there
To Die there
To Die, every night.
______________

She saves all her laughter in noisy red tins
Puckers of smooshy wet lips colored in.
With really tight pigtails
She farts out pink shapes
Her big bouncy feet take her
Places he waits.

Warming her path with his hair as she finds them
In sleep, they do meet - her glowy glue guides him
Their getaway haven,
So high up in Hell
Eating the Butterflies
And throwing up Bells

and
To LIVE there
To LIVE there
To LIVE - that's a lie
They drift to their place, hand in hand
More to Die
And they rise to a height
where

Circus Jobs - A CareerWorking around town there was a Clown
with perfect timing and something shiney He wore
that adorned both His chest and His sleeve.
A gorgeous Magician whose lead based make-up was killing Him.

And the Mime girl came clunking by
as she usually did at precisely non-specific hours
when it was high-lunar-noon and always too soon-
Acting out every wind She was ever blown by, using mirrors.

She'd often richochet, and became something the Clown grew fondly sick of
so for Her, He pulled out His best Silk & Milk gag -
What was up His sleeve was now down Her throat.
As She mouthed out a scream and faked silent death, Her lies reflected His

The Journey of PearlsGritty Bits Happy Tits was not herself on this day
and that became the girth of the calender after awhile.

"I don't even know why you came", he said
And Gritty Titty had no answer for that thread -
It meant she shouldn't have cared so much
Forced to admit "the game's over" was luck.
No one gave rat's ass or a shit
for the kind of edible garbage she bit
And winning, they said, was never the point
Gritty soaked herself in liquor and joints
And she laughed and grafted a plan to move on
Picking the scabs from the burned word "pawn"
and
in skipping the mud, she skidded to bud
as a flower in the next fertile garden.

That shit was ha

You Go FirstHer toes were sore from stubbing
and the tripping wasn't fun anymore.
Bruises don't go away like they used to
and we should all somehow start being careful.

Her mother had the only available tub left.
Taking a bath was hard
You had to earn it.
And the gray hair started to run in the family where
you could see it.

Grown child says she's dying.
Mother looks away and starts lying-
no longer in a position to get into small watery spaces
but the daughter was a special case
and would be doing this until the day she passed.

In no time, it was the end of the world
and the girl and her mother saw white tiles that
Swipe-shined the wa

As You WereI follow your destruction
Its lung-saving suction
Sniffing the air for the nose hair snare of smoke
the bad-taste joke
and I wonder where you'll go next
Thankful it's never me on your list
of fist bliss bloodshed
Letting you run loose gives me swelling joy-pride
And I love this boy-ride
with its fatal speeds of every direction
going nowhere
And when I stare
you wonder what's so goddamned awesome
Laws and Sums can't touch you
and you demonstrate how above it all
You are
No scar, no trace of regret in any step
You just go and go
and go and
I know
One day you'll never come back
and that's why I follow you
Last glimpse

Cyclic SystemicsTrembling in an obedient position
I gave up but not for long
not under contract
not like you think
it was a walk-on part
the audition was a hit.

Angels and guest stars came calling
and I had offerings always
so they wouldn't leave me until
I was fixed
I was distracted enough
I was righted
and then wronged.

Advised and super-sized
the platonic guise of male friends
worked like a brotherhood
to my salvaged self
the only child
that needed to be carried
back home occasionally.

I cry myself to sleep now
because I am tired
I am saved
I am free
in footed pajamas with a full tummy
hard-won and hearty
all safe and sound.

Spell Book - Addendum ITo Climb & Nest
In Hair we rest...
To Itch & Pick at will.

The Scalp-Pull Tick
All Wounds, we Lick;
The Ones we Made, as well.

"Oh, do come down
from off that head
and share a meal with prey."

But "Nay", we say,
"Tis Light of Day...
Dark Nibbles ring the Bell!"

2010 endings of a decade...Still here, analyzing my life, a dynamical system that is highly sensitive to initial conditions … still rendering long-term prediction impossible in general. "Frying" your brain in order to "keep" a calm and safe future.

Simplicity is genius. The hard part is to work it. Like a detail which can make a world upside down finally collapse. Auto destruction sequence resetting what is lost and can be saved.

As a "wingman" I have rescued many lives. I am a living part of a team. A team becomes more than just a collection of people when a strong sense of mutual commitment creates synergy, thus generating performance greater than the sum of t

Silence is DeathThe silence is all consuming
Dooming me to an existence of roaming
Driven to insanity over again

Listening with ears
That don't hear
Or for that case seeing with eyes that don't fear
Living a life in a way that most would say is queer

Yet if I lived in silence
I couldn't imagine what it is like
Because everything thing in my mind keeps me up at night
Darkest of life
Feeling a spirits knife

Yet nobody ever hears that silent scream
That tears at the seam
And makes you begin to fall inbetween

So I hope my voice goes out strong
And that my words the work of my life live on

Because silence is death
Looking to consume my last brea

WraiosName: Wraios

Race: Undead/Forsaken (Blood Elf in previous life)

Hair/Eyes: Black

Skin: Silver

Height: 6' 2''

Age: 325 years

Class: Shadow Priest

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Residence: Undercity , Eastern Kingdoms

Faith: Cult of Forgotten Shadow

Primary language(s): Common, Gutterspeak, Thalassian

Secondary language(s): Goblin, Low Common, Orcish, Dwarven, Nazja

Background: Once a high elf known as Sinadori, Wraios has become the following high Ambassador of Forgotten Shadow Cult, forging a stronger alliance and bond with the Blood Elves of Silvermmon City. Whenever he has the chance of free time, he works tirelessly in the hopes of cr

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Get Out The KitchenShe had some gourmet fish-flavored habits like
blackened blue...
Bird Flu...
WAIL-BLUBBER stew.
"FUCK YOU"
was the smell when she cooked things too long.
Spitting and popping when the heat was too strong
she became a carmel
hell-spell...
Sterno gel
HARD SHELL.
Fucked, not spooned
Oil and water ignited
and soon
her Betty Crocker caught fire while she was
weeping
sleeping
STEEPING.
And pissy pots boiled over
never really becoming soup
So eating was hindered and chickens were
fingered...
they lingered...
WHOOPED and COOPED.
She never had a mit
to handle smoking hot shit
that would help her hold on to the
Knig

Forty Not FourYou're just a coat hanger
Mannequin bolt banger.
Hang out the window
and wait for Gate Jangler

Taking up offers
that you were the talker of.
Angel in Armor
Seeks teenage Pan Handler

You wash all your sins
In the same cups of Gin
That you serve to the wreckless
already inclined

Taking too long
To figure out songs
Once you do, you can't rhyme
and then ignorance shines

Oh but

You've got my number
You've got my number
Guided by knobs
and inverted plumbing

You've got my number
You've got my number
Lines from a swine
and I see it coming.

Greedy-squeeze goose juicer
Card tricking deuce loser
Panting and ranting of

The World Needs More HonestyWANTED:

Male who wears really tight 50-cent shirts
that are worn thin to the point of seeing moles through the fabric.
Hair long enough that it could be cut and still look a mess.
Constant cold symptoms.
Skinny because that's how you are
because you eat stolen bananas and play the drums
being in a band that doesn't have money to travel.

Must have good ideas and endless dreams that will never work.
Should possess something rediculous you can't talk about
as well as something in a backpack you haven't looked in
since the last time you got lost and ripped off in Bed-Stuy.

Black and White tiled floors will bother you but
you keep

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Basking n' Robbings

by *TheMadMulatto, May 25, 2010, 5:31:56 AM
Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Philosophical

Salty Licks and Short Sticks with Soft Shitty Ends
were at every I-Scream Stand that summer
but still, she sought all flavors
hoping her fill would put her to sleep in some
Sugar coma hematoma rigor
from which she'd awaken
some other kind of girl
who suffered no consequences from a gorge.
A gorgeous tour of assorted bores
and still no justified calories.

Basking n' Robbingsby *TheMadMulatto

Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Philosophical

Ode to 'Medic 22'

=DailyLitDeviations Jul 27, 2010

Your wonderful literary work has been chosen to be featured by DLD (Daily Literature Deviations) in a news article that can be found here [link]
Be sure to check out the other artists featured and show your support by

ing the News Article.

Keep writing and keep creating.

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*TheMadMulatto Jul 28, 2010

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Fav'd!

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~jochanaan Jun 18, 2010

"A gorgeous tour of assorted bores"--

Magnificent verbal music that sums up the whole poem.

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Jun 29, 2010

Thanks babe! I LOVED when I came up with that!

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!Phosphoratus Jun 9, 2010

mhhhh, this makes me hungry

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Jun 29, 2010

Me too!

Reply

!Phosphoratus Jul 10, 2010

Reply

*keyanadrake May 28, 2010 Professional Writer

I love how you use words like paint brush.. not just the meaning of the words but the sounds of them. Wish I could do that. :3

Reply

*TheMadMulatto May 31, 2010

Babe, thanks so much for the beautiful comment

You can do this, too... everyone has room to give things a shot
that will turn out in their own unique style.
YEAH!

GO THERE!

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*keyanadrake May 31, 2010 Professional Writer

I'm better at painting images with the feel of words rather than the sounds of words. I think sound-writing is definitely your thing. :3

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