Pleasure
Try to comprehend me
Before you tear the aorta
Stab with a knife...
...Once again
Cut throat does not compare
To the pleasure of raping a child
Following her,
I leered at her tiny boy
Watched her delicate moves
And that strange freshness
Now, she's just a dead,
Ripped corpse
...In the cut throat
I find my pleasure
Raping the child
You hatefully murder,
Then desecrate
My body
You should have
Done it before...
...Before you thought
Of revenge
I was molested
It doesn't matter now
Now it's blood
Now it's sperm
Cut throat,
Pleasure
song performed by by Yattering
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Opposite displeasure
Success gives pleasure.
Conquest gives pleasure.
Revenge gives pleasure.
Hunting gives pleasure.
Coveting gives pleasure.
Mind; every pleasure
Gives equal and opposite
Displeasure to others.
In a way we act as sadists
04.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words Get Stuck In My Throat
If I had a tiny microphone
Hidden in my heart
It would amplify my love for you
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If I had a little viewmaster
Stuck inside my brain
It would snap the pictures all of you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If I had a telegraph
Tapping in my brain
It would tap the morse code I love you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
Hey, hey, hey
Whatd I say?
Everyday!
The words get stuck in my throat (repeating)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Darkness Was Enveloping Her
The darkness was enveloping her,
covering her from above,
while he pressed her down,
with a knife against her throat
and the nightmare was no dream,
but intense reality
where he was raping her
forcing himself into her trembling body.
When she tried to resist,
his black fist slammed down
hitting her in the face
and the night became much darker
and from sheer terror
it was as he was demon possessed
and her mind went blank.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Words Get Stuck In My Throat (live)
If i had a tiny microphone
Hidden in my heart
It would amplify my love for you
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If i had a little viewmaster
Stuck inside my brain
It would snap the pictures all of you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If i had a telegraph
Tapping in my brain
It would tap the morse code "i love you."
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
Hey, hey, hey
What'd i say?
Everyday!
The words get stuck in my throat (repeating)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Playing With Technology
What happens when a child plays with a razor?
What happens when a child plays with fire?
What happens when a child drives a car?
Man in his pursuit of technology is in the same pose
In his hand is a tool of technology, powerful and dangerous
But he’s acting like a child and doesn’t know its purpose.
Man’s still a child, no sense of purpose, no vision of the future
For a child the razor, the fire and the car are just for pleasure
It is obvious, for this same reason man pursues technology.
Man’s still a child, so selfish, self-centered and irresponsible
Doesn’t care about the world, his possessions is all that matters
But his mind, his most precious one, is neglected and in tatters
We’re like a child mesmerized by technology, by its power
Creating for us so much stuff, we feel much richer
But we’ve forgotten our world is delicate, our life fragile.
We’re like a child mesmerized by technology, so tempting
So much pleasure, so much convenience to us it’s giving
But we’ve forgotten our goal in this hostile universe is survival.
We’re like a child mesmerized by technology, so exciting
Faster and faster now we are driving it, not hesitating
It’s just a matter of time, it will crash! It will crash!
Now, we can see the destruction on the horizon looming
It’s been scientifically determined our planet is warming
Because, technology, that’s meant to save us, we abused it!
poem by Leonard Sims
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slit My throat
Tears are stained
against my cheeks
blood is gashed agaisnt the walls
all i have to say is slit my throat and lay me to sleep
I want out of this crule harsh world
everyone is mean to me
they hurt me
beat me
and make fun of me
Most of the time though
they end up hurting me
so as i cry out into the night
i want my last words to be
slit my throat and lay me to sleep
Lay me to sleep,
killme,
murder me,
do something, but if you do
slit my throat first
an lay me to sleep in a grave
poem by Dominique Lange
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Non Typical Homo
Living in unawareness of your own skin
Of something that sticks in us, in me
Untypical homo
Trance sapiens...
(I feel an inertia of my soul, deeply)
Untypical body
Deviation, extreme, sadism
Untypical homo...
Perversity raping
An individual one
Drive yourself in madness
Own I, I / you??
You ill treat everything own I and him!!
Hands derive delight
With orgiastic abilities
Extrementophilia
Joy, pleasure
Orgasm, deep pleasure
Darkness sticks
In you man without his own I
song performed by by Yattering
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Devils Child
Hypnotize me
Mesmerize me
Feel my willpower slip
Light my fire
With cold desire
Losing all my grip
Eat my diamonds
Drinking all my gin
Feast your eyes on
A whole lotta sin
Oh no youre so damned wicked
You got me by the throat
Oh no gotcha claws stuck in me
You never let me go
I believe youre the devil
I believe youre the devils child
Took my dreams
And now its seems youre nothing but a liar
Smash and grab at all I had
Build my funeral pyre
Stop pretendin
Got me growin old
Your tormentins
Fit to snap my soul
Oh no youre so damned wicked
You got me by the throat
Oh no gotcha claws stuck in me
You never let me go
I believe youre the devil
I believe youre the devils child
You took my heart
And left it blown to smithereens
I gave my body as a slave
You cut my flesh
And drank my blood that poured in streams
Im left here broken and ashamed
Goin under
Hear the thunder
Death defying grace
Your condition breeds ammuntion
Shoots me in the face
Vicious talkin
Stabs me like a knife
Scratched and bruised, so abused
Im a human sacrifice
Oh no youre so damned wicked
You got me by the throat
Oh no gotcha claws stuck in me
You never let me go
I believe youre the devil
I believe youre the devils child
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Text
Up against my throat, I hold a hunting knife
This text will be my last
For, when it's done, I'll take my life
Oh, I'll have a blast
Through my throat, the knife will cut
Causing blood to spurt out of the open wound
I get a feeling of relief in my gut
For I know it'll all soon be over and done
And this text will be my last
It would be easier with a gun
But, either way, it'll be a blast
I won't die fast
But, oh, how it'll be a blast!
poem by Amy Parkinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The great man is…
To take revenge is the greatest pleasure,
Hetero sex is the deepest pleasure.
If one found the same pleasure somewhere else,
He would be regarded as a great man.
08.07.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleasure Is The Bait
Excitement gives pleasure;
Exploration gives pleasure;
Sexual love gives pleasure.
Pleasures are momentary.
Pleasure can peak the happiness
Or cause the valley of sorrow.
Pleasure is the bait one's after
Not minding the after-effects.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Will Cry?
Who will cry for the little child who goes for days without food?
Who will cry for the little child who parents beat them?
Who will cry for the little child who is mistreated for being different?
Who will cry for the little child who goes unloved?
Who will cry for the little child whose stomach is swelled up?
Who will cry for the little child who doesn't have clothes to wear?
Who will cry for the little child who is shunned for not being popular?
Who will cry for the little child who is molested every night?
Who will cry for the little child who's parents are not around?
Who will cry for the little child who has to take care of his self?
Who will cry?
Will you cry?
Cause I have.
poem by Natasha Ligons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Each Others Throat
We are supposed to be sisters and brothers
But all we do is constantly dog one another
We are supposed to act as each others cover
But we keep at each others throat
Each others throat
Each others throat
Yo, it aint no joke
Were at each others throat -aowl, aowl
We are supposed to spread love and not evil
But weve been acting more like heathens than people
Treating our fellow-man far worse than illegal
Cause we keep at each others throat
Each others throat
Each others throat
Yo, it aint no joke
Were at each others throat -aowl, aowl
Ut oh, 11 oclock pm and heres the news
Another fatality caused by a family feud
Charged, tried, sentenced by the jury of a brothers gun
Made sisters fiancees wedding never to be sung
He didnt like the way he treated the girl
So the boy played god, pow, he ended his world
He made a plea for temporary insanity
But left his sister insane permanently
This aint new, this stuff happens everyday
Somebody doesnt like someone so they blow them away
Too fast for reason, too quick to negotiate
Regret and sorrow happens a split second too late
Jealousy for power, greed for possession
Selfishness so you give someone a faked out impression
Speaking of which Im truly not impressed
So if seeing is believin-i dont wanna see the mess
Heartless are we on the straight with no chaser
As if for negativity we got the vapors
Know as I love me so I do love my neighbor
Cause we are too busy at each others throat
Each others throat
Each others throat
Yo, it aint no joke
Were at each others throat -aowl, aowl
(repeat)
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sick bed[2}
The flue eats
my head and throat and body
and still you come and lie
close against me
and let your fingers
branch right through mine.
My throat burns
and I am scared
that you will also
get something
of this awful thing,
but without a worry
you kiss me
and I can feel life
pulsing on your soft hot lips.
Your fingers tickle the hairs
on my lip and chin
and there are teasing devils
dancing in your eyes,
while your fingers
creep to places
under my arms.
Like a child
I am given medicine
while I am already
much better,
in my soul and spirit
since you are with me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sick bed
The flue eats
my head and throat and body
and still you come and lie
close against me
and let your fingers
branch right through mine.
My throat burns
and I am scared
that you will also
get something
of this awful thing,
but without a worry
you kiss me
and I can feel life
pulsing on your soft hot lips.
Your fingers tickle the hairs
on my lip and chin
and there are teasing devils
dancing in your eyes,
while your fingers
creep to places
under my arms.
Like a child
I am given medicine
while I am already
much better,
in my soul and spirit
since you are with me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Proud man can't sing well
proud man can't sing well
his heart is too high
his voice is in his throat
his throat will be choked in high pitch
makes him can not breathe well
and his body trembled in lower ground
his voice is not clear and honest
he sings because he is proud
bot because he likes the song or likes to sing
he sings not for everybody
he sings for his pride
his heart is in his throat
and his voice will choke his throat
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Live until your dead
The ties that bind unwinding
The future needs reminding
That differences will always be
Yet pleasure and pain are the same to me
So broken on the inside, maybe the pain is what i need
Cutting on the outside, just to make sure i still bleed
With that pain comes the pleasure, that i am still alive
With that pleasure comes the pain, that my mind now needs to thrive
You live what you learn, someone very smart once said
So find some pleasure in your pain, and live until your dead.
poem by Mistaken Identity Suicidal Tendancy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Foolish Pleasure
Pleasing the body is quite a feat.
It's life's biggest quest.
Pleasing the soul is a bigger feat
for the soul knows you best.
You cannot hide the crimson blush.
It's the body's tell-tale sign.
You cannot see the heartened rush
for the soul's pleasure is devine.
It's beyond the pleaure the body feels
for the body is a fickle fool.
But the pleasure of the soul is lasting.
It follows every rule.
But oh that foolish pleasure
that makes us who we are
seems so stong.It is hard to stop.
It's end is way too far,
far from realitry, close to insanity
and still the body is bold.
Some say it's foolish. I say no
for the pleasure undoes the cold.
The soul abides and patiently waits
and knows the time will come
when foolish pleasure is temporary
for the body will succumb.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never fair
I used to be such an idealist, believed everything goes well when you do well
I used to think that babies were born to parents that always loved them
I thought justice would be served for every injustice suffered
I believed if you really loved you couldn't lose
I used to think sex was just for pleasure
Until one day, just one, the tables turned
And me the passionate lover of love was lying in a hospital bed
Thick blood oozing down my legs soaking everything with my guilt
One moment of pleasure had turned the tables on me
That one moment of pleasure turned me into a mother only at sixteen
He was nowhere to be found, He that had said he couldn't live without me; He was nowhere to be found
Vanished with the summer breeze as my winter started
A child I desperately wanted to die couldn't die; somebody had arrived just on time
And here we were mother and child, both safe
I safe because for my treason I couldn't go to prison for the life I had
Attempted murder would have been my charge
But somebody I didn't know and I couldn't care for saved my life
Now justice had to be served
The more I tried the more I realized justice is a hoax
He got away with paying a mere 300 every month till she was eighteen
I didn't care about child maintenance
I wanted justice served, for breaking my heart I wanted him to pay
But that's all the judge thought it was worth,300 Pula and that wasn't even for me
So I settled with that bitter taste of reality, Life is not fair
poem by Ontibile Laone Kebadirang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleasure's fun. It's great, but you can't keep it going forever; just accept the fact that it's here and it's gone, and maybe then again, it will come back, and you'll get to do it again. Joy lasts forever. Pleasure is purely self-centered. It's all about your pleasure: it's about you. It's a selfish, self-centered emotion, that is created by a self-centered motive of greed. Joy is compassion. Joy is giving yourself to somebody else, or something else. And it's a kind of thing that is, in its subtlety and lowness, much more powerful than pleasure. You gethung up on pleasure; you're doomed. If you pursue joy, you will find everlasting happiness.
quote by George Lucas
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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