Creative Endeavors

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Be

What’s life
      But a dream,
To be lived to its fullest
By the living dead.

Live your potential,
      Become.
Become what your soul screams for.

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Two

Ruptured desire
Spilt upon the bedroom floor.
With a rage of lust
Fueled by the scent of sex
  And
A light in the eye,
Inhibitions fall
To the ground with two
Bodies following entwined.

-Hunter Coch

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Cold Breeze

As the cold breeze blows,
It calls to our desires.
As the cold breeze blows,
Our dreams sail on its currents
And drift through seas of starlight.

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The Beast 2

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She weeps terrors tears
From a benevolent guise.
Manipulator!
Heart of hate and burning greed,
Liar of spirit and deed.


The Beast

Betrayal, deceit,

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The heart of the beast above.
Rage and denial,
Spews from her foul acrid mouth.

She sits in the smog, alone.

-Hunter Coch


To Kiss

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Oh, to kiss,
To know that scorching fire,
Letting the heart burn,
To scar the soul with delirious memory.

Oh, to kiss,
To hold insanity in my hands,
Touching silken skin,
To caress that pounding breast.

Oh, to kiss,
To wreck the world with passion
And light the midnight sky,
To scream to the infinite sun’s.

Oh, to kiss,
To feel the addictive melancholy,
Weeping on lonely nights
And to rage against fate.

Oh, to kiss those lips,
To know that scorching fire,
Letting the heart burn,
To scar the soul with delirious memory.

Oh, to kiss those lips,
To walk in delirious contemplation,
Working the soles raw,
To feel the pain fully realized.

Oh, to kiss those lips,
To embrace one last time,
Letting passion speak
And letting hands wander.

Oh, to kiss those lips,
To kiss between breasts,
Feeling the heartbeat thump,
To dance naked in a bed of desire.

Oh, to kiss those lips once again,
To know that scorching fire,
Letting the heart burn,
To scar the soul with delirious memory.

Oh, to kiss those lips once again,
To tear the flesh with nails and teeth,
Violent and tender,
To thrust against welcoming hips.

Oh, to kiss those lips once again,
To bite and thrust in rhythm,
Pulling against the friction,
To push against the pain.

Oh, to kiss those lips once again,
To reach that tantric enlightenment,
Resisting until the snake crowns,
To burst together in ecstasy.

Oh, to kiss . . .

Oh, to kiss those lips . . .

Oh, to kiss those lips once again . . .


Torn

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With a deep embrace
Barriers torn asunder,
With a deep embrace
The woven threads of destiny
Rework into new patterns.


Reach

The hands of temptation reach

For the strings of lust.

Oh, to put goodness aside

And give in to the darkness.


Paint and Poem

Desire is an

Awakening of the soul,

Evidence of life.

Summoned by the serafim

Desire is the dark muse.

Desire is death

A last grasp at living life,

A voice from beyond.

Desire is dementia,

A forgetful waking dream.

Desire calls out

To the artists and dreamers,

Divine seduction.

Like the Sirens of myth, but

Feeding on paint and poem.


They Speak

They speak in hushed whispers

In the bar of screams.

They speak in confidence

In the tavern of the lost.

What secrets do they share?