The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Untitled.
07:31 Jul 30 2006
Times Read: 558

Trip, trance, trace a line through the pearlescant moments that make up your life, hang it on a thread and wear it for all the world to see, I have lived, and died for love and valor, I have hurt and broken hearts in the name of laughter, cracking knuckles at 2am understanding beyond knowing that the darkness is seeping further in with every breath, there is no road block to stay the progression of our self induced demise...as we have risen so must we all fall by our own hands, genetic imperfections unique only to this our viral human race...

Distressed
01:02 Jul 29 2006
Times Read: 567

Stranded on the edge of the oasis, barred by wrought iron and barbed wire, living life like a perpetual drought, dieing of inspiration dehydration, searching for that ellusive muse, always just out of sight, but her sigh carries on the cool breeze and one wonders as the skies darken, striking ominious reliefs of black eyed angels watching every action, they say god cries, and he wouldn't be the only. Sickened by a lack of social skills a prince turned to spectere now lingers in the corner seeking that impossibly perfect fix that does not exist.

Condition. (non sense)
01:55 Jul 28 2006
Times Read: 569

As the radio twains in and out,

White static across the airwaves,

In the middle of nowhere,

You may as well not of screamed at all.



Soma and sarx gone to rot beneath the chains, held with loving hands that desire only to draw blood, a mind tangled and tattered, freyed along the hem a favorite pair of jeans over worn...



I'll end this here before I make a mockery of myself, cheers.

sand man (version)
04:43 Jul 26 2006
Times Read: 571

The sand man comes with dragging boots and heavy breaths. Moldy smiles and fists full of sleeping dust, a darkly clothed shambling visage, beauty gone to age, gone to waste, such is the fate of all who and live and die beneath the moon and sun, schorched flesh with a texture like grit, accompanied by the sweet scent of sandle wood, an ancient dominar reigning over the predawn hours, watching and waiting, for we all must fall...and he is always there to guide the decent...deeper for further, further for darker, darkest these dreams.

Without Words. ; no edit.
02:04 Jul 26 2006
Times Read: 572

A beast surges in the back ground as the walls shiver and shake, melt away as the world looses it's consistancy, dry rot down the back of his throat eaten from the inside out, stripped to the bone by the strings of a chello, hello scream. and the chorus swells while the devil conducts with his tail, sipping absinthe and dropping valium he said , he said, the way to the heart is through the drugs, and you know it's true like her eyes have never been more honest , doll like and beautiful without the stuppor of suspicion, trusting angels left bleeding broken wings and razor blades, the stars rearranged into hearts and clover' so goth it could kill if it where goth or anything more than just another broken doll linning the sill of a beautiful girl's play room.

obscure.
23:04 Jul 25 2006
Times Read: 574

Siren song carried by the breeze, a gentle churning in my stomache, the slow slithering shiver running down my spine. A voice, eyes, and her eyes...Sweet like the violin at three a.m when all secrets are spoken for. In the absence of light, when the waking world has faltered and fled, and we are left sitting juxpositioned and intent...How dear the ghost of your lover, angel's of death's discourse hang above looming happily, waiting and knowing the time is near, that good bye is here and so long ago, A man dies in the I.C.U and joins his wife waiting for him with Peter at the golden gates. To dream, to hope and wish and know the emptiness there in, the hollow bone singing softly in time with the wind, a thousand, and than a thousand more layin low in the name of...and I have no faith in tyranny...

Gee I like to think of dead. by; E E Cummings.
23:47 Jul 24 2006
Times Read: 575




gee i like to think of dead it means nearer because deeper

firmer since darker than little round water at one end of

the well it's too cool to be crooked and it's too firm

to be hard but it's sharp and it's thick and it loves, every

old thing falls in rosebugs and jackknives and kittens and

pennies they all sit there looking at each other having the

fastest time because they've never met before



dead's more even than how many ways of sitting on

your head your unnatural hair has in the morning



dead's clever too like POF goes the alarm off and the

little striker having the best time tickling away every-

body's brain so everybody just puts out their finger

and they stuff the poor thing all full of fingers



dead has a smile like the nicest man you've never met

who maybe winks at you in a streetcar and you pretend

you don't but really you do see and you are My how

glad he winked and hope he'll do it again



or if it talks about you somewhere behind your back it

makes your neck feel all pleasant and stoopid and if

dead says may i have this one and was never intro-

duced you say Yes because you know you want it to

dance with you and it wants to and it can dance and

Whocares



dead's fine like hands do you see that water flowerpots

in windows but they live higher in their house than

you so that's all you see but you don't want to



dead's happy like the way underclothes All so differ-

ently solemn and inti and sitting on one string



dead never says my dear,Time for your musiclesson

and you like music and to have somebody play who

can but you know you never can and why have to?



dead's nice like a dance where you danced simple hours

and you take all your prickley-clothes off and squeeze-

into-largeness without one word and you lie still as

anything in largeness and this largeness begins to

give you,the dance all over again and you,feel all again

all over the way men you liked made you feel when they

touched you(but that's not all)because largeness tells

you so you can feel what you made,men feel when,you

touched,them



dead's sorry like a thistlefluff-thing which goes land-

ing away all by himself on somebody's roof or some-

thing where who-ever-heard-of-growing and nobody

expects you to anyway



dead says come with me he says(and why ever not)into

the round well and see the kitten and the penny and

the jackknife and the rosebug

and you say Sure you

say (like that) sure i'll come with you you say for i

like kittens i do and jackknives i do and pennies i do

and rosebugs i do



/poe's note:



Just for background, this has been my favorite poem since I was 13, I hope you enjoy it.

It'll go away.
19:40 Jul 22 2006
Times Read: 577

It'll go away it never goes away schorching down your spine and through every veign an aching desire the worst addiction, a razor blade's kiss crosses my heart , white knuckles pounding on the walls all sharp hip bones and no more giving a fuck either, light it up, burn till the marrow boils through and turns to ash, miles of legs and thighs and nails on the back of your neck bite in till it bleeds busted lower lips , and love is just a blood sport or so the song says, turning up the volume and kicking on another twenty miles per to the speedometer at 3AM the world is a wasteland, awash in the collective sorrow of a million sleeping souls, reaching for god for falling short you've got nothing to show, I said it before , i'll say it again; remember the blood on your fingers is mine. now lie say you love me.

To the horror. (10:30 is to early to be writing this shit.)
16:30 Jul 22 2006
Times Read: 578

Slipping in just neath the window comes the fog creeping , dellerious and toxic weaving it's way around ankle and wrist , etheral turns to steel as the blade carves into your flesh, slipping liquide into your lungs choking the air from your lungs, left to weak to kick and scream against the oncomming onslought waiting just outside the door, step foreward through the back door and strike your final cigarette the end of all times quickly rises to greet you , jack knives and kittens, pennies and the bottomless wishing well of our heart's discontent...

roads (prose)
15:04 Jul 22 2006
Times Read: 579

Lonly road work layin down in the predawn hours between than and now, a street without a name, passed by and never noticed untill...And the lone house there on the hill a soft shade of yellow and more inviting than the warmest of breezes masked by the sunlight, hiding the holes like eyes and all the tragedy there in, and thom said ghost in the attic so I huddled down and dug the fox hole, it's going to be a long dark night

Decension; prose
03:03 Jul 22 2006
Times Read: 581

The first shots poured and fallen, line another row up and watch them topple like toy soldiers, feeding a fiening beast he's feasting on the hate and every ounce of rage as the alcohol surges his system vivid memories of color and tone come rushing back, primed and ready for a train wreck, a million miles away and he can still hear the voice of his lover against his ear , feeling finger tips and hip under hand, which direction is up and out , something says run like you know theres no tommarow, it's battery acid and blank pages till the bitter end.

Artificial Breeze. (unedited)
00:44 Jul 22 2006
Times Read: 583

bask in the reflected glow of the moon high in a synthetic sky the world begotten by the world forgot, forget me not I know you'll never remember the way, and is true love a ghostly visage angelic and pure or more akin to tarnished silver and when I bleed you know who i'm bleeding for, switch steps and sway back fall foreward over the edge of the fourty-somethinth floor and pray. does the mock breeze carry screams just as well across this digital wasteland , miles of ocean in every direction standing outside the way station one last cigarette before. setting sail for the hallucination of a distant horizen , something in my ghost says it's time to find the way out of this dark maze.

Et Randum 4 (no edit)
19:17 Jul 21 2006
Times Read: 584

Slip stream baby she's singin in your ear oh so soft and it's feel like heaven, hells waiting dont you know darlin, just outside the door the devil's come in his black limousine, it's time to take the one way ride, direction of your own designation, every wound and wrong acted out shall come back upon and I dont care just give me the bottle or the blunt and It's deeper in untill your carving yourself out jack-o-lantern rotting but still smiling pretty.

Interlude. ; prose.
19:42 Jul 20 2006
Times Read: 585

A moment of filtered sunlight a slowly smoked cigarette. Soft music on the speakers and it feels like empty. Alone in a room, in a house, without a view. For miles only the birds are singing, imagining the distance induces vertigo.

Stalled sentences stuttered out across the page and empty is not void. I imagine a gravity well within myself, devouring myself and the world and all of the love in it. Day dreaming with open eyes and second sight, slipping from myself and through the floor, another world or another dimension, white wash corridors, black hole heads leaving trace evidence of scandal in their red, red foot steps, get it back/ get back, pick up the tempo and the blank cds are skipping static against the walls, touching finger tips with ghosts through fogged glass, shaking hands with an angel at an airport terminal, and the line progresses, a thread beaded with blood from me to every single one of them and on...is this happening has it happened, am I here /nowhere/anywhere/ say fuck all hit the wall and s c r e a m, but it isn't doing any good and on.



Note; I have recently come to the understanding that I no longer believe I exist. If I do not exist how can I be sitting here. I can't quite figure that out, flesh and blood but here is not here, I am not I, you are not you. Or maybe you are...I hope your faring better than I am...

see through faded ;pros (unedited)
01:00 Jul 20 2006
Times Read: 587

Sun set settles in turning the sky to violence,

vivid violets and blazing orange the colors you wish you could capture, expressing the deepest thoughs and emotions more clearly than stumbling words could ever derive.

Arching like sun spots, we rise and fall , disintegrating in the atmosphere like shooting stars, all left down to dust a soft hand on your cheek that could do nothing to still the tears. the instructions on the cancer said ignite here and I did vividly imaging the imagery of poppy z's beautiful dead boy's imaging myself amongst the bodies loved and consumed by some consumate killer with adoration in his heart and hunger in his eyes, wanted no matter the means nor the ends , as if the razor blade slipping through the ties that bind us to ourselves and the waking world was as simple as slipping on your shoe's theres the door and he hasn't gone anywhere..



Where do you run to when there is no-where you can run to?

free form (no edit)
22:55 Jul 19 2006
Times Read: 588

Snapping fingers to a two times beat I step to the Mic and speak.



"Wicked wonderland is waiting little darling, beyond the veil of your illusion stands truth , a dark ediolin with all the love you could ever have never wanted, To late to skip back through the looking glass , deep down you know you've always wanted to walk across a broken mirror, here's your chance, let's dance beneath this delicious moon while I eat your heart out, eat your heart out, the most precious possesion you've ever known lays in flames at the foot of a casket the name read Elenor Rigby and no-one was present except for You , I and the Jabberwakie."

a narative.
03:59 Jul 19 2006
Times Read: 593

"Shes gunna run away, Even though you won't allow it, Whatcha gunna do about it? With her Back stab, Bags packed, goin ,I doubt it, Whatcha gunna do about it?"



Wrists twisting beneath pale fingers the welts from friction and constant motion forming beneath, a soft tapping unintelligable morse code by his boot heel on the dirty floor, as his eyes wander the remenients of a train wreck romance.



The floor littered with wilting flower petals, broken photohraph frames and their shreded interiors. The hearts on the walls all gone over in black marker, and each vervse circled burned out by the cherries of chain smoked cigarettes.

Art imitating life or just vivid beauty mocking the tragedy.



Marionettes singing songs of optimism dancing all around and all I can do is think back to the blade and what I'de like them to suffer through, understanding awash in bloody experince, the scent of gun powder, flashing lights, good grass, these are not implied they are expeinced , lived through and suffered, love, loss, aching tedious gnawing , enthralling , and some days I just want to die, but the dawn is always waiting...

He said " Because Goth is Beautiful." (Start Over) ;pros
01:47 Jul 19 2006
Times Read: 594

Preternatural finger tips I still remember the caress of divine beauty a ghost at the foot of my bed blue eyed angel's hiding their horns behind the heavenly smile of powder pink lips,



tragedy masked with blackened nails and flesh to mimck the dead, grey and listless like the spirit that was torn away jared and stored for sick exposition....



leaving left screaming pounding against the broken tile floor, he is a broken toy soldier running eyeliner to match the weeping wouds a pallet for his requium sprawled on the wall shaking fingers and the first layer is already drying brown..



"START OVER! START OVER! START OVER!"



untill the walls are filled and the pain is numb, a hundred and seventy six scars in her name one for ever kiss left on neck and brow and rib, where do we go but down in the wake of divine beauty, a whisper in my ghost tells me that I can never look back but I will never forget her name ludinum to my absinthe in the middle of the night where all that matters is the warmth of the fragile body on the floor beside you, against you...

Oh Death (Rock Me Asleep)
04:38 Jul 17 2006
Times Read: 598

Angel song swims around my head,

At the edge of the great presibious delirium I stand, Tip toed and child like gazing into the shadowy void that calls me endlessly with taunting and teasing tones, as the lights die out the candles are lite and the ritual begins, holding hands beneath a blood moon, the specter and myself dance a circle around the grave of hope and happiness, the goddess has smiled un-loving eyes of truth and purpose. And than it was the fading writing on the wall and all my hours of dreaming with eyes open playing slip stream like a well edited cinema production of devious design, a clock work orange moldered screaming "Anything but Beethoven, anything but the glorious 9th."

muse on muse.
02:46 Jul 17 2006
Times Read: 600

Promises lay scattered on the floor like the shards of oh so many shattered mirrors, and her eyes reflecting each glistening blade in the shades of a broken heart reflected off of the torn organ that hung from his sleeve,

This is wasting away one sentence at a time, imagine the worst pain you've ever felt, multiply it but twenty your still not close, not till the walls are etched with blood and the television lyes on it's side the screen punches in and your knuckles have the scabs to prove it....

Dissapear
02:12 Jul 17 2006
Times Read: 602

Who knows...



Unsteady decent.



The soft shaking pulsing through his knees let's him know it's wearing off. A headache like a freight train and you wouldn't believe the things he's seen. The slow annonymous ache begins to crawl along his bones and he lets his spine mold to the curve of the uncomfortable chair which he sat. Bathed in the dull enamour of dark light and cool sweat , visison warped and wrapping into itself. A tunnel just a lil to much like a gun barrel for comfort, and now a syringe empting him of himself till there was nothing but skin and brittle bone left. The ghost of him propped against the wall cradling knobby knees and a crushed pack of cigarettes. In the void unseen from behind the glassed diallated pupils ...doll eyed and oh so pretty on the brink of self extermination..

nothing imparticular.
07:52 Jul 15 2006
Times Read: 606

Slipping in and out of, and time falters in the absence of a ticking clock, bathed clean through pain like born again but you know whats coming, twist and turn wrists writhing against the shakles..and he said, he said, souls of lovers give feet of led.

To remember a time, a place...I...(poetry;pros)
07:37 Jul 15 2006
Times Read: 607

Her lips on his skin, and the unpenetrable veil of darkness hiding hands on hips. A steady pulsing beat swallows the soft whimpers and moans, pulling them into the melody. Their bodies another instrument for the chorus, bathed in soft cotton. The first light sheen of cool sweat forming across her body mixed with his own, tasted and shared ; Sun rise, sun set. Hours without measure slip through the cracks, the clocks turned upside down and the windows covered by canvas, two blood types and too many layers to ever be deciphered by anyone else but it's creators. Walls adorned with charcoal and chalk , angel wings and " I personally opened 6 gates to hell in this room. Enjoy." Painted boldly above the door, inspires laughter over a shared joint and the pleasent feel of a thigh slipping across his knee.; Love..what is love, this is love....love is having and than don't you love her more as she's walking out the door...Love is never meant to be. Like that rare glimpse of true life that you only get once or twice in a lifetime....Real love is forever. (and never was)

a paragraph. (baddly prepared)
06:45 Jul 15 2006
Times Read: 608

The sweet spot, between the fifth and sixth vertebret, just a little preasure to slip through the tendon and muscle...and than it was the shaking pulse vibrating along the blade deafened by the bitter sweet coppery taste, on his fingers now fire engine red and now his lips, sticky and warm, depths of addiction that the drugs could only aspire toward..

I've never been good at formed poetry, But this sentiment is worth the humiliation.
05:07 Jul 14 2006
Times Read: 609

She moves like I wish I could,

Breathing out the rhythm of my heart beat,

She does not know my name,

Drifting through the ethereal,

Beautiful and preternatural,

She would never say the same,

I would write it in my blood,

Or draw it on her walls,

If there where any means,

I could not begin to express,

The depths which she strikes,

With her simplest of nuances,

With her unwilting smiless gaze,

I wonder what angel is locked behind,

Steel wire and plate,

Without courage I shall remain a shadow,

Enthralled with deepest of admiration,

Hooked and waiting for me..

"Where ya goin? Fukin nowhere, thats where."
01:47 Jul 14 2006
Times Read: 611

Bleed for bleedings sake to watch the beads well and drip , trickle and trace down over bicep and wrist, outlining scar and cigarette burns, the memories of nails etched into flesh, unforgiving flames consuming whole the heart of the matter at hand. in the ash we rise new days dawning to the white static of our discontent, holding hands and sipping coffee from a distance , i'm sorry where you talking to me? passed back and forth like broken bric-a-braq till the words themselves cease to have meaning, and don't you wish your lover had stayed to make it so far as to be unbearable, or did you trully love what you've lost...or thrown away, living on un tortured turmoil biting nails and beating walls as if it could soothe the acidic touch of truth or still the blistering emptiness inside your chest spreading? now it was movement wild and tangent thrashing with the melody to escape, running out of yourself till your out a breath, daring that second glance back to find you've gotten nowhere.

Slip Stream Imagery
01:02 Jul 14 2006
Times Read: 613

Sun set comes slowly these days,

As the hours drag their feet,

Leaving left to wander blindly

Half shadowed hallows , the remenients of a cathedral recalling autumn youth,

such bright days , gone to molder and age

Even now his name lingers on tainted lips,

I prey without conviction.

Our Father forgive me, for I am sin.



Their bodies lie entwined atop the sheets,

And the matress without any,

Verses of Dylan and Marley

Strumming across these dark walls,

Only briefly till her lips are gone,

Leaving behind the imprint of a feeling,

Warm flesh against my pale form,

Gone to let in the cool night breeze,

Lust to lonliness

Empty handed lovers,

Passing the time between screenings...

Onward.
01:58 Jul 12 2006
Times Read: 617

Every lie, like whispered vows.

Promises made , forever and never again,

Like saying hello while walking out,

Theres the door and there goes the door,

Driven. like a thumbtack into the wall,

Forced into submission , left to do "thy" bidding,

Father forgive me for I am sin.

No if and or but, without regret sunken in the red.

Never larned a thing through the haze.

Broken hearted angels reaching,

Their wings now tatter,

Sweet memories of never gunna happen,

Like lips , Like eyes,

See her moving just behind the shade,

A sillouette like divine like forgetting everything,

Can't quite seem to leave the longing,

Something like an addiction,

Love will eat you alive.

lie; say you love me.
03:09 Jul 11 2006
Times Read: 619




Dazed-hazed, brought to bruised knees by the eyes of, and Who said it was a burning bush forcing the breath from your lungs? Realization in the depths of the unnamed, and like the seconds tick tocking off the clock it seems there will be no sunrise, only sufferage and time after this. perpetuating the and I have no tounge, words that fail on trembling fingers, fall short of defenition and how could I explain? Like daylight breaking in through cracked window paynes a slow ache that spread to encompass the whole addiction is hell isn't it...



Grid locked and ground into the floor board(s) grinning like the Chesire cat for...And I paint the air in my pros these are the cons. Everything wrong with every last breath turned wretched turned acid, like and you wish and you push. Skins crawling off the bone like there is no name for this disease feeling indescribeable like don't you wish you could just put a bullet in me and be done? I do I don't I dream of night without dawn and running, of fleet footed Mercury racing away from the wicked world and all the woe I can not help but love.



Deep within your skin you hide that sick grin. And I know whats just there beneath the surface tracing red lines like razor blades, our ink for blood. So many words the walls are saturated and scream murder with their imposed silence. Stark and stained and not so gentle reminders of and only stolen words can seem to make any sense. This is living this is dead, breath caught in throat insert knife. Uncharecteristicly yearning for the warmth of summer nights...

pros;
02:34 Jul 11 2006
Times Read: 620

Inspiration comes in the strangest ways, rolling over toes and calves and soon completely submurging in it's cool inclincation of reality...



Something said to put on the wrong music,

So he did, striking a beat with which to beat himself with.

The truth has been twisted untill it ceases to exist, just some smeared ink on recycled paper, No wonder the world writhes and stagnates,

Left grasping at the freyed hems of this tattered cloth, so much desperate exageration for the state of things.