Rick's Poetry Corner. Focus on Male Feet

[alexonedeath]

These two poems are arresting! I feel confident they can not be autobiographical, because you are just too sweet for such horrors. You should probably try to compose three upbeat and cheerful verses for every dark and dangerous one. Otherwise, you may find yourself being dragged down into a terrible depression.

 

[stustustugoo]

APPLE VENDOR

a barefoot guy standing in the street
was selling apples, so I made a plan
I fell in love just looking at his feet
and bargained for a meeting man to man
yes, i'm ambitious
both feet and apples proved to be quite delicious


POOLTALK

the pool guy saw me soaking up the sun
and asked me what he could do to service me
I answered thst I was into footsy fun
and added I was into guys, was he?
well yes he was
I sucked him head to toe
why?
just because

he rolled into the pool.
I jumped in too
to save him for I knew he couldn't swim
"i'll save you, but there's something you must do"
I think he liked what I proposed to him
what is so sweet as sexy bruisers giving up their feet

 

[alexonedeath]

I was wondering when your next poetry would appear, Rick, and it has arrived just in time. I was in need of a rhyme fix. I like APPLE VENDOR. It's something a bit different, not at all dark. We have the foot fetish and the fruit both served up together, so I imagine you getting confused...accidentally sucking the apple and then biting the toe. I like POOLTALK even better! Pool guys are automatically hot and I was expecting you to rhyme "swim" with "rim", but, since you "sucked him head to toe", I feel quite satisfied.

 

[stustustugoo]

A FEW NEW ONES




THE GRUESOME CLOWN

last night while I was dreaming
it scared me half to death
the dream was about a gruesome clown
I couldn't catch my breath

the clown was really scary
it was dressed in crazy clothes
the scariest thing about this
guy was his plastic cherry nose

his face was really creepy
with it's frozen little grin
smudges of every color
painted on his pale, white skin

the clown just sat there staring
as I crept up to the bed
I reached out with my hand
and slapped him on his head

he then just started grinning
as I headed for the door
then he started singing and
crawling on the floor

my tiny legs were moving
and standing still in place
glancing back to see
his twisted, gruesome face

his high pitched squealing laughter
send shivers through my soul
this freaky fucking nightmare
has begun to take it's toll

I wake up all of a sudden
with a very sweaty head
in the corner lays my pillow
I threw it off the bed

I jump onto the wooden floor
and it begins to crack
that crazy clown is behind me
he grabs me and breaks my back

and then he runs that crazy clown
his axe within his hand
both my feet laying idle on the floor
like they're trapped in quicksand

his laughter right behind me he swings
I feel it in the air
he jumps up right behind me
and grabs me by my hair

he says "come with me and you shall see it's nothing but a dream"
swinging his axe he splits my head
I feel it and all I can do is scream

 

[stustustugoo]

AND TWO MORE SHORTIES



ONESIE

I like to wear a body suit
that's made of human skin
the gruesome onesie, head to foot
fits well so I step right in



MAUSOLEUM BALL

trade insanity to the tailor for a top hat, coat and cane
to wear to the mausoleum ball
daylight's bane
where Lilith masquerades as innocent love
and black bat wings spring forth from every dove
skeletons twist about the living wearing skulls as masks
and the grave keeper looks on
and rejoices in his gruesome tasks

 

[alexonedeath]

"THE GRUESOME CLOWN" is an excellent poem, very scary and very readable! It would be perfect for a fireside tale at camp.

Run, Rick RUN!​

 

[alexonedeath]

"ONESIE" reminds me of something Emily Dickinson might have composed. She spent so much time alone in her room, there's no telling what she was up to. "MAUSOLEUM BALL" is a cerebral one. I like its modern, unexpected cadence.

 

[stustustugoo]

THE OBSESSION FOR SOLES

what kind of monster have I let myself become?
in the light of day I lead a normal life, but when it becomes night I become someone else
I have killed an immense unbelievable sum
the other one, I have no memory of this someone else

from what I know I have a sadistic taste for men
even though I am married and a well-respected gent
after my sexual acts I get so totally enraged with myself
I kill to totally wipe it away and maybe I won't do this again
to my knowledge so many to hell I have sent

I dispose of their bodies under my house
these two people are always within my mind
I never meant to become such an awful insane louse
I try to be careful that it's me they will never find

in my normal life I even host parties as a happy guy, but listen to what I say
for your own good, stay away
for I shall chop off your feet
for use for my own foreplay

a perfectionist I am so I hide my awful secret
all memories of what I do remain kind of hazy
but men don't fall prey to me
because I don't hesitate to kill
because when it comes to your feet I am by no means lazy
so watch out men unless you want to experience my crazy

 

[alexonedeath]

"THE OBSESSION FOR SOLES" is a clue to something, but it might be dangerous to try and find out what. I don't want to end up under the house...without my feet! Actually, this poem suggests what is no doubt true: there are plenty of serial killers among us who get away with murder. As Rick says, "...so watch out men..." :O

 

[stustustugoo]

well alex, dont let your imagination get away with you, there is no clue here, I can get violent, but in no means could I ever kill,
I dont have it in me to do so, im to sweet! its just my dark side speaking here...……...

 

[alexonedeath]

well alex, dont let your imagination get away with you, there is no clue here, I can get violent, but in no means could I ever kill,
I dont have it in me to do so, im to sweet! its just my dark side speaking here...……...

I believe you. You are, like Poe, just airing out spooky, cobwebby corners of the mind. Keep the rhymes coming!

 

[stustustugoo]

COURAGE AND HIS OLD FRIEND COWARD


courage and his old friend coward
hand in hand felt quite empowered
off they went from tower to steeple
amongst the land of broken people
they climbed amongst the highest fears
sailed within people's deepest, darkest fears
weaved amongst the dreadest schemes
faced down nightmares and took on people's dreams
coward hoped that they'd do some good
in the land of flesh and blood he thought they could
he didn't feel so terrified when courage walked by his side
they walked through wars
through abject terror
hoping the world would see it's error
sometimes they'd gain a gleam of peace
yet many times that too would cease
centuries passed and courage cried
"YOU CANNOT SAY WE HAVE NOT TRIED"
then coward's knobby knees would settle
hoping one day deep inside he'd find his medal
in the land of broken people
beneath the towers and lofty steeple
hope came home, it may seem absurd
holding hands with his true love named word
off they went to home sweet homes
writing letters and posting poems
off they went from tower to steeple
encouraging each other by healing people
courage and his old friend coward
along with hand in hand they felt quite empowered
off they went from tower to steeple
with hope and word to save all people

 

[stustustugoo]

WAR


senseless killings barbaric and animalistic animal desires necrophilia and sadomasochism blinded by nationalistic pride
all out war
so babies have nowhere to hide
drones attacks on hospitals and nurseries
they bury their corpses in cheap boxes
bombs and guided missiles
strike targets from the sky
the innocent are murdered
so I ask why as I cry
technology is pushed to its very limit
SEALS fire shots with laser beams in it
with accuracy and precision
but what is a yardstick to a politician's decision?
resources are channeled to produce victory
the masses are slaughtered
so again we repeat history
both sides of the wall commit atrocities
the resurrection of man's innate bestiality
collateral damage caused in every surgical strike
and then we face reprisal
explosives on trucks and even on a bike
IED's! so watch where you are stepping
woman are foes too
so be careful with who you are helping
suicide bombers looking for soft hits
sane was the 1960's and the 21st century
shall I go on with my list?
nukes and ICBMs delivery is imminent
annihilation of the sub human race is prevalent
and to put our names in history's place
doomsday arrives, shall we give it a face
see the markings of world war 3
orbital bombardment of attack towards you and towards me
but all you see is red light, blue light and part of the fire we shall be
I shall live beyond this day
so the devil is a liar
a million boots put in harm's way and with their blood they shall all pay
loved ones wish they could stay and we all fall to our knees and pray not for that day
torpedoes launched from submarines
tomahawks fired from cruisers as it seems
the battle for oil and land is not worth its means
but we are all losers so as it seems

 

[alexonedeath]

That's wonderful, Rick! COURAGE AND HIS OLD FRIEND COWARD is quite the epic verse, with much well thought out rhyme and rhythm. I like the idea that courage and cowardice have something in common...AND that words are hopeful.

 

[alexonedeath]

WAR covers just about every aspect of mindless aggression. It is truly poetry of despair.

 

[stustustugoo]

SEX ADDICT..

from my traumas was born a feeling
a desire that came way too early
curiosity introduced pleasure
and once it was found, control was beyond measure
if I told you I was so young that I hadn't even shaved
yet I was touching myself under my desk back in the third grade
wanting the attention of a boy
wanting to be wanted
to feel love and enjoy
progression through time had me messaging all the guys
they wanted me and I wanted them
that, and as time went by, messages turned into descriptions and these turned into pictures
they guys turned into men and there were so many of them
I don't know if I love to please
or I just love them wanting me
but I have to do it and I can't control it
who has been through this? who really knows it?
abuse made it worse because I wanted to be loved
first time having sex was the first hit of my drug
I couldn't stop there, I had to have more
I didn't want their time, I really just wanted to be their whore
like I had no respect or I had no beliefs
just giving myself to the men who deeply attracted me
I would get aroused looking at someone and my mind would begin to imagine
and of course the next day with a stranger you know what happened
and I never felt ashamed
it felt great I felt so happy
I had to do it again until I did I felt so crappy
it got worse,
I couldn't say no
like my mind wanted to stay home but my body made me go
I even have to do it when i'm all alone
sex is my addiction
you'd think I want to quit, but I don't
it's a problem, it really is
it's dangerous and I know
but I can't help myself and I can't get enough
so I grab my cock again and I go, go, go




MOLESTED


manipulated into thinking I know not right from wrong
overpowered by his stature, my weakness made him strong
loathing at the thought that the time has come to go to bed
escaping all the nightmares forcing them to the back of my head
sexually deviant and wicked, he's completely out of control
twisted are his touch and thoughts as he finally takes my soul
evil, vicious cycle, spinning round and round and round
devastation lasting a lifetime
my mind now cracked and nowhere to be found

 

[alexonedeath]

SEX ADDICT.. follows your obsession from the third grade on and, by the end of the poem, I wonder if you shouldn't re-title it SEX LOVER.., just to put it all in a more positive light. Even though "it's a problem, it really is", you seem to have made peace with your dick: "you'd think I want to quit, but I don't". Sex is your friend (and lover)!

MOLESTED is very good! It's a poem that's strong and meaningful, without sacrificing rhyme.

 

[stustustugoo]

A FEW NEW ONES,


A TRIBE OF WEREWOLVES

here in the land of blind dogs and screeching pigs, I lay me down to rest
where predators prowl and scavengers growl we snuggle like baby carrion fowl in a squalid, rotting, rancid reeking nest

where the death stench and fat flies fill greenish-yellow bruised sad skies and necrophilia is a spectator sport
we contently feast on fresh slaughtered beast then wrapped in entrails we dance and cavort

oh lovely stink! oh delightful decay!
may my penis make love to you today?
where air is vile and water is gritty the straight guys go for the dead, rotted titty
we make merry sport with the mangled dead while we cower at night, but your dead husband is in my bed tonight

out here we fantasize of your horrified eyes and your agonized cries as we watch you beneath the moon
lazy and fattened
will your flesh be sweet?
guess we'll find out when we feast on your blood and your meat
we're planning to come visit your city real soon
i'd wager your children taste like a sweet macaroon




walk on me barefoot, master me with your feet
feed me your toes, that make our love complete
massage me with soles that kiss put never tell
big toes, plump up my nostrils with their smell
fondle my bones until they think your feet are barefoot drones





GIVE ME YOUR SOX

give me your sox, a jockstrap and a glove
smother me with the mystery of your soles's love
walk with me barefoot by the riverbed
bathed in the moonlight, let me give you head
how strange, how rare, this love that humbles me when your feet are bare






GIVE ME YOUR SOX PART 2

give me your sox, a jockstrap and a tissue
join in if privacy is not an issue
love is the music, floating in the air
the smell of love is your sweaty socks and your underwear
fingers get wetter
a sniff, a wack and i'll be feeling better

 

[alexonedeath]

A TRIBE OF WEREWOLVES is full of atmosphere! I like its use of words and phrases that reflect all the human senses. Also, "...rotting, rancid reeking..." stopped me in my tracks...excellent!

GIVE ME YOUR SOX seems to be a serious and tender verse, but the title made me laugh (I couldn't help myself). Then when I got to GIVE ME YOUR SOX PART 2, I was thrown completely off balance. I don't think PART 2 qualifies as a tender verse, not with words like "sweaty", "underwear", "sniff" and "wack"...HAHA...but it's fun! Perhaps this two-part poem belongs more in the category of humor than romance.

Keep the culture coming, Rick!

 

[stustustugoo]

SILVER IS THE GREY
RANTS OF AN ALCOHOLIC


in the beginning, I was just a loser.
one more shot, if I failed I would lose her.
but I couldn't do it, so I was all alone.
it is worth the effort, in a lonely home?
I cut my hear, and changed my clothes.
I've had month after month, of these highs and lows
so hear me now!
at least for a while as my memories go...

my life is gone
only hope matters in this caustic song
was I dead from the start?
or was it just my heart? or should I just sing along?
I'll think i'll sing until I think i'm the king!
so hear me out!
i'm not yours or so I shout
if I cant be in your bed, I'll just sleep on the floor, sleeping next to the gin bottle that dirty filthy whore.
it's not right, and it's not fair
that I should have to sleep alone in just my underwear!

I wish I didn't miss you
that I didn't just want to kiss you
that the fears I wake to didn't lead me to you to escape to
i'll go to hell, you'll go to heaven
for me it was thirty, and for you it started at the tender age of eleven
so now i'll speak even if it hurts enough that I blead
I guess in the end i'll just have to believe in you
my only liquid friend

leave me alone!
just leave me alone!
I've cast aside all our hopes and our dreams
so let me believe just one more for the day
that there is a silver lining in these depressing shades of grey
but don't you ever dare disappear on me

every time that you meet me you avert my gaze and go straight to my lips
this goes on for countless days, nip after nip after nips
I try to speak, but you just leave
I try to see you, that you are not my basic need, but you refuse to heed.
I want to hate you, but I need you so I grieve!

leave me alone!
leave me alone!
I've cast aside all my hopes and my dreams
so let me believe for just one more day
that i'll be all right in this liquid play
that there's a silver lining in these shades of grey
but don't you ever dare disappear

I think I know how to bring you back
even if not beside me or in my lap
it isn't a plan or a complaint about all your crap
it doesn't include some verbal surprise attack
i'm not just some normal pervert or a self made maniac
my throat just need your touch and that's all that I ask