[ Join Free! ]
(No Spam mail)

  • RolePlay
  • Join Us
  • Writings
  • Shoutbox
  • Community
  • Digg Mashup
  • Mp3 Search
  • Online Education
  • My Youtube
  • Ear Training
  • Funny Pics
  • nav

  • Role Play
  • Piano Music
  • Free Videos
  • Web 2.0
  • nav

    << | >>

    dots Submission Name: ITCHdots

    Author: hanuman
    ASL Info:    3 score & 10 & some!
    Elite Ratio:    5.99 - 804/1015/239
    Words: 275
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 931
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1664

       Not a nice subject for poetry, not pretty at all. I had a very severe allergic reaction to Melaleuca Teatree oil followed immediately by a very severe allergic reaction to the antibiotic Cephalosporin. There was not an inch of my body not covered with an itchy rash of one sort or another. I did not sleep for 3 nights and eventually they had to knock me out.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.


    I am wearing the hair-shirt of my own skin inside out and scourging myself with my fingernails.
    I feel the tectonic plates of my abdomen writhe under their fractured crust and lava wells up in crevices.
    In the rock’s deep fissures the crustaceans crawl.
    My fingertips trace gently the cordillera of my spine taking basalt samples under my nails from the crater walls.
    My back is the battlefield of Stalingrad overrun by a starving peasant army bristling with pitchforks, halberds, boar spears and flensing knives.
    They crawl out of foxholes in dirty rags of sacking to prod and pillage among the broken masonry.
    In the pitch black of night where hedgehogs are rummaging under my sheets my probing fingers find an area of haunch carved with the crenulations of a mad Baroque architect.
    There are ridges and rills, furrows and burrows, welts and weals and the raised scars of Hottentot initiation.
    Among the random passages of this maze wander the inzy spiders with their dirty little feet and venom dripping fangs.
    I squash each one I come across to a bloody pulp and in the rosy fingered dawn the gulls come to pick the dead carcases off the beach.
    Occasionally perhaps among the filigree of pain I touch one fine silver wire of intense, perverse extraordinary pleasure and my nails scrabble frantically to find this lost seam.
    But now I arise from this night I never slept with my head a hot furnace of poetry.
    There on my sheets is the proof of a thousand virgins whose painted fingernails have already drawn veils, shrouds and cauls of dead skin across their faces.

    Submitted on 2014-05-09 01:48:20     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      I was discussing with two friend recently whether a painful illness or a broken heart is the more horrible experience. We came to no conclusion and ended up talking about fish farms.

    The big questions are hard to keep in focus, I guess? But I'm sorry to hear you have had such a horrible experience as you describe very graphically here. I think it is going to give me bad dreams ...

    | Posted on 2014-07-02 00:00:00 | by Glen Bowman | [ Reply to This ]
      But back to the poetry.

    Hottentot, an interesting toss into this frankly too-effective visual, I commend thee upon.

    Cringe-worthy, but I think in these particular circumstances and stanzas, I'm forgiven for saying so, perhaps even applauded like any good author standing beside good, cringe-worthy work should be. Dear God, this sounds perfectly dreadful to have endured. I'm dealing with one tiny bug bite, left ankle, slightly off center and 6 days later, driving me crazy. Here's to the itch we all here love to scratch. And to the actual itches of nature trying to kill all of us #TheHappening.
    | Posted on 2014-05-23 00:00:00 | by blueorchids | [ Reply to This ]

    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

    1. Be honest.
    2. Try not to give only compliments.
    3. How did it make you feel?
    4. Why did it make you feel that way?
    5. Which parts?
    6. What distracted from the piece?
    7. What was unclear?
    8. What does it remind you of?
    9. How could it be improved?
    10. What would you have done differently?
    11. What was your interpretation of it?
    12. Does it feel original?


    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Blood Stains Are The Worst written by ForgottenGraves
    cleverly shunned written by CrypticBard
    AI written by poetotoe
    4th Season of Vivaldi written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Or are we written in the sand? written by Chelebel
    Wavelength written by saartha
    Fasade written by jackz
    written by Daniel Barlow
    Before, Now, & After written by SincerWritinAsh
    Push written by JanePlane
    The Severed Head written by HisNameIsNoMore
    written by Daniel Barlow
    Still Fighting See? written by ForgottenGraves
    Supernatural Cowboy Sleuth (7) written by endlessgame23
    Whiteout written by layDsayD
    You do, I Do written by poetotoe
    new moon written by CrypticBard
    written by Daniel Barlow
    102.3 written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Sleep Talk written by Queen_of_spades
    written by Daniel Barlow
    Waiting written by Daniel Barlow
    Dashboard Light written by layDsayD
    Estranged / Shocks written by Daniel Barlow
    Devils in the Details written by endlessgame23
    descent written by TheBadSadMan
    Your Lover written by Cordell
    It's Night Now written by RisingSon
    written by Daniel Barlow
    Brigit written by endlessgame23




    User Name:


    [ Quick Signup ]
    [ Lost Password ]

    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems

    I have 14,000+ Subscribers on Youtube. See my Video Tutorials

    [ Angst Poetry ]
    [ Cutters ]
    [ Famous Poetry ]
    [ Poetry Scams ]

    [ Smaller ] [ Bigger ]