Category Archives: Poetry

Death Before Disloyalty

It really sucks when discovering loyalty’s one-sided,
the extent of your betrayal makes it tougher to hide it.

Always treated you better, ill tactics of being biased,
yet you deserted me here to fend for self on this island.

I’m always there supporting, during everyone’s crisis;
but when it’s on me they all come equipped with vices.

Judas Kisses and crooked smiles, I overlook your defiance,
somehow I felt you and I were as prime as blood diamonds.

The heart and mind hosts a war one can’t avoid fighting,
so it’s either back down or get suited like the Vikings.

Mind or heart, heart or mind, seems like bad timing,
it’s when I needed you most that you became silent.

Premeditated harm like I’m Kuklinski, the “Ice Man”,
no weapons needed, just my rage and my right hand.

I’m like a cockroach you can’t kill, a cannibalistic virus,
I welcome all to this ass whooping but it’s you I’m inviting.

You pose no threat, you ungrateful peon, I’m a giant;
sizing my competition, with the hunger to get violent.

These angry eyes of mine, become dark and less vibrant,
I throw up my mitts, beating my chest like an enraged tyrant.

I spew out wildly like crude waters from hydrants,
this supernatural strength, heart of the coldest climate.

Charging in your direction like storms of fatal lightening,
with brute force that will crush every bone in your body.

Blow after blow to your face and waist, there’s no stopping,
vital fluid paint my fists and room décor all sloppy.

I’m a mad person, why must you make this hard for me,
I never figured you’d have the guts to jilt me so shamelessly.

You’ll never walk or crawl again, I’m amputating both knees,
I’m sure to disassemble your organs leaving your insides empty.

Rupture every blood vessel in your heart with one squeeze,
you narcissistic pig, get on your knees and beg please.

I’m alert and gassed up, sensing your idle energy,
detaching limbs and opening wounds, I add salt to injury;

by piercing ears with shanks and gouging eyes with car keys,
pouncing on you ripping you to shreds like blocked cheese.

Heart throbs until a hole forms in your chest the size of a galaxy,
The aftereffects of a failed alliance, it’s death before disloyalty.

I’ll Kill For IT…

– Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://shadowness.com/dailyinspiration/forum/daily-inspiration-171

Mr. After Hours

Serenaded by jazz congesting this candlelit room,
checking myself for imperfections in this mirror.
As my perfume eloquently sizes up the background,
I wish he would hurry, getting here a bit quicker.

Applying MAC to my lips, I blow a kiss to myself,
leaving a trace of red on my glass reflection.
Wearing this dress befitting my beautiful curves,
not only do I want him to feel, but to see the sensation.

Candles ballroom dance to the sway of my silhouette,
as I patiently wait to indulge in his alluring essence.
He’s my local means to escape, my stress reliever,
oh how I long for our confidential late night sessions.

My midnight snack, he turns me on with his suits and ties,
but when the cufflinks come off, the scent of me goes on.
I call him Mr. After Hours, my nightcap, my guilty pleasure,
I have him all to myself, them I send him right home.

See, he belongs to me by night, my part-time lover,
during the day he has a woman that he claims to adore.
I don’t need his love I only lust for his affection,
a bond of convenience, that one could ever hope for.

He’s usually here by now, my body’s getting anxious,
losing control by the moment, I just may burst.
Starting without him, I shed down to my lingerie;
though he’s supposed to be here to undress me first.

Sweet surrender, appeasing my self-induced temptation,
caresses from my breasts to my raining inner thighs.
Soulful moans; movements to the beat of my own song,

deep breaths and toxic thoughts with his picture in mind.

Lusting for his poisonous kisses I inject on a daily,
licking my lips, it sends chills running down my spine.
I clinch these silk sheets wrapping myself in the times,
circular motions bears exhales and dilating eyes.

Reaching for my love enhancer kept on my nightstand,
pleasures from vibrations own my heart at this moment.
The temperature rises as my urges dig deeper

 from my gentle touches; I’m in love with such atonement.

Climaxes are interrupted by several doorbell chimes,
reluctant to pause but eager for him to delight me more.
I lay there for a moment, teasing him for making me wait,
unclothed as he prefers me I glide towards the front door.

With one hand holding a glass of fine champagne,
I adjust my hair with the other before welcoming him in.
I’m greeted with an unpleasant surprise, a long-haired
woman fair-skinned, dressed to kill with Revolver in hand…

– Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://www.kadinvehayat.net/erkekler-neden-evlilikten-korkar/love-man-woman-silhouette-wide-1680×1050-3/

The Follies of Reality

THE FOLLIES OF REALITY

I’m trapped inside a maze

Closed doors with no exit

My vision is blurry

But no knobs to adjust it

Memory fading

I can’t remember how I got here

Been here for 27 years

But it’s still life I fear

Knocked down by deception

Chained to my depression

Life’s a two way street

I managed to take the wrong direction

Trampling over things not seen

They’ve become images

Darkness falls and dreams dissolve

I wake to discover

A nightmare of reality

  • Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://imgarcade.com/1/breaking-rope/

Pleasures of Pain

Pleasures of Pain

Fools in love
share the same,
sentiment as one
who’s stimulated by pain.

I’m a hopeless romantic,
a full blow addict;
with a craving for love no
matter what it takes to have it.

Can’t get enough, this rush
this touch; conceited attractions,
cutting myself deeper
creating satisfactions.

Modified emotions are
sold for a cheap price;
gaining scars while gambling
love with fixed dice.

This morning;
I woke without you by my side.
Yearning for you…only you…
like oceans falling short of sunlight.

My sorrows are
sort of like eclipsed distress.
Yet fulfilling, I mesh pain with
pleasure and daggers to flesh.

…I want for this forever…

  • Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/my-love-my-pain-mel-at-heath.html
CUTTING AND SELF HARM HELPLINE
http://www.helpguide.org/articles/anxiety/cutting-and-self-harm.htm

Heartless

The power and rage of this permanent pain,
sporadic avenues of reviving buried yesterdays.
The tall tales of a love I initially claimed,
a tragic romance which led to dismay.

Hurt resembling a thousand knives to ones chest,
a punctured ego, riven thoughts and broken promises.
With my severed heart and capricious requests,
no gain without pain, I’ve grown to be heartless.

Intentions are as prejudice as white supremacists,
I’m wildly sucked into this infinite tunnel.
Worshiping flawed emotions as a love atheist,
things never work out for me, they always crumble.

The passion’s gone, but memories compose tattoos,
maturing into a glutton for critical heartache.
It skips us like stones to a non-rippling lagoon,
what lead me to presume union would display?

What the hell was I thinking, I’m quite the fool,
this hopeless search for a fulfilled happiness.
Too busy dreaming, discounting logical thinking,
like a needle in a haystack, I’ve lost my place.

  • Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/heartless-martin-dawids.html

Exploration

Enchantment at its peak describes you and I,
a feeling cloning stars meeting one with the sky.
Tenderness withstanding any reflecting turmoil,
my beloved darling, I’ll love you forever more.

I’m captivated, with you is where I want to be;
beautiful is you mind, reserved solely for me.
I explore it privately, uncanny intellectual sex,
no fabrication, anticipating on what happens next.

Making love in rainfall; soak and wet on the patio,
the lawn wears our attire; as tempo slows from the radio.
You take me to that place I never knew existed,
it’s so new to me; show me more of what I’m missing.

A glimpse so deeply into you; there’s no returning,
tell me you can’t live without me, it’s for me you’re yearning.
Under no conditions do we repulse as two magnets,
we’re soul tied, allergic to untangling, like bad habits.

Longing to know your intentions, your flaws, every vice,
curious to see things as if I’m looking through your eyes.

I want to feel you feeling me so I know you’re not intangible.
 What makes you smile, what makes you so remarkable?

Tell me about your dreams and worst nightmares,
I’ll be there to soothe you, I’ll keep you in my prayers.
Analyzing your hopes, your dreams, fantasies; I will,
I want to love that which you love; a love that’s real.

Exploration

  • Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://carole-and-co.livejournal.com/251265.html

Profit of the Powerless

This just can’t be life; if so
consider taking a rain check;
life has a way of omitting
what you traditionally expect.

Compensating you with leftovers,
recycled dreams and aged bullshit;
chasing you in circles, urging
to tame you like circus chimps.

Never be influenced
by life’s failing attempts,
to trap you in a frenzy
you should take another glimpse.

Collect yourself as time ticks
sit back, stop watching this pain;
before life flips out, gouging eyes out
legally blinding you once again.

Results of handicapped views, you
dangle from the bridge of sanity,
with a theoretical halo draining
it’s now lifeless batteries…

The day’s a waste while the
world awaits, patiently pacing
Around an hour-glass
depleting all hope remaining.

With clenched fists, blackened hearts,
mind’s spinning like ceiling fans,
muscle tension, faded thoughts,
I’m afraid you’ve been outran.

Tug of war with these demons,
back and forth like subways,
low blows and mood swings
dirty dancing this fatal ballet.

With no way to escape,
assuming your death to be fate;
an end to all struggling and
nonsensical justice you take.

Gasping for air, faint whispers,
staring life in the face;
everything moves in slow motion
muted speed and lack of haste.

In submission you collapse,
to the clouds you praise.
With the soil you become,
refusing to die another day.

But today…

– Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://www.dailyartfixx.com/2011/02/12/xiau-fong-wee-painting/