|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Night's BlanketNight's Blanket
Rewritten By Lobo Di Noccento
as of September 14th 2013
Night's Blanket is Draped upon My City's Native Shores
Yet like many other cities its residents here are of non-native scores.
The Non-Natives truly need to put their inhumanities in check
For the kinds of damages they have incurred are the kinds that
Generational History will never take the time to forget, and
this is a truth it shall always reflect.
Certain things have died here, that we can never replace;
Like Natural Beauty, or Inspirational Grace.
Now all that is left, is a City Divided
With Issues which have been Provided, By the Human Race.
The Joys of Being a Werewolf"Even a Person that is pure of Heart
that says their prayers by night
can become a Wolf when the
Wolfbane blooms and the
moon is full and bright."
- a Ancient Gypsy Saying
that has been slightly Modified
The Joys of Being a Werewolf
Written By Lobo Di Noccento
Written On November 24th 2012
Your Dark Visceral Depression
Made Motivation For Suicidal Cuts
made by a Straight Razor this was
your Lavish Invocation.
I Inhale the Intoxicating Bouquet
of your blood;Like a Sea of Blood Roses
Splashing Forth Onto the Shores of a Cravass;
And the Perfume of that Sea is Endless and Vast.
I'm being drawn into
The Delight of Blood, Flesh and Bone
Which I find a Delightful Epicurial Feast;
Introductions shall be made and this
Maiden shall know my Beast!
My Flesh, Joints and Nerves Expand;
My Muscles and Organs Grow;
My Faceplate changes for now
the human without must fall away
and The Face of the Animal must Show!
My Bones Snap, Crackle and Pop!
My Pale Orbed Mistress Demands
this of me!;And until tra
Illicit and ExplicitIllicit and Explicit
Written By Lobo Di Noccento
Written On November 19th 2012
(Dedicated to Debbie Hasinnerpeace)
Whenever I speak,Grand Water Droplets Fill
every molecule of oxygen in the Air and soon
Tidal Waves, Tidal Pools, Typhoons and Monsoons
Expand through out the Whole of the Room
I Vocally travel down your
Audio Vibratorial Spiral Gyroscopic Canals;
Where the warmth of my electrically charged words
tribally plays your drums;
Here I proceed, with
my need to Burn Bright the Fearsome Insight
that brings great delight;The Ecstasy of Cosmic Euphoria.
With every Master stroke of your drum's skin;
I intensify My Mesmeric Hypnosis just a little bit more
...and a little bit more;
Because we all know you can't hide
your glow about the fact that you wanna be
big daddy Microphone's happy little whore.
Once I'm inside I slip, slide and glide over to your Corridor of Doors
Its here that I find the Black Doored Room hidden in the back of your mind
This is The Room that contains all of your
Diametric OppositionDiametric Opposition
(Dedicated To: Former Attorney Alan D.Eisenberg)
(A.K.A My Bio-Dad)
Written by Lobo Di Noccento
Written on October 3rd 2012
Raven's wing haired man with eyes of hazel jewels;
Piercing through the night with a neon light;
A Neon Light that is brighter than can be withstood,
by most easily tormented fools.
Short of stature but intense of stare;
a man that plays by his own rules;
A man many of whom would find to be
unrealistic and unfair.
This man he is not above complaint;
But is beneath a toast;
He is loud of arrogance and louder of boast.
Behind this facade he hides a soured heart;
He is a bitter,angry and violent maelstrom of a man;
Whom breaths fire but takes not the time to conceive,
a well thought out plan.
This man has no center that's calm and focused;
As his mouth is big and his appetites are overly bloated.
Zeus's electrical bolts course through his veins which is something;
That not all the world can see for violence hides best in darkness
When Madness Marries StupidityWhen Madness Marries Stupidity
Written by Lobo Di Noccento
Written on October 17th 2012
Psychosis,psychosis come take a fine look.
To find out an answer please seek out a good book.
I don't mean the bible as it used by every religious whore.
My suggestion would be psychological medicine at its very core.
- a parody of the Milwaukee library system song
When two sibling slaves like Madness and Stupidity come together;
And repeatedly engage in incestual relations over the span of ages.
The children of such unions stand very low chances;
For any kind of Inevitable Evolutionary Advances.
The chances of survival are even lower;
However,I am sure to many of you;
that is not a Mind-Blower.
Especially in a world that truly does not want them;
But does need them and will only have them if as beasts of burden.
Yet,such beasts of burden exist in this world;
And soon they will feel the sting of
Corporate America's yolks upon their backs.
Weighing them down with inaccurate figures and facts.
A Modern Telling of a Ghastly and Ghostly PoemA Modern Telling: Of
A Ghastly And Ghostly Poem
Written by Lobo Di Noccento
Written on October 16th 2012
Ghastly,Disfigured,Mutilated and Reanimated Corpses
Echo Ghostly Prayers in the frigidly bitter chill
of the midnight hour;
And soon there is an arising
of dead clouds that begin to flower.
Rain cuts an Astringent permeating swath
over those that have had the misfortune,
to be caught in its path.
Peaking out from behind the clouds is The Azure Lidded,
Black Lipped Bone Crone all that hear her voice;
Know it by its wail and moan.
Her Crackly and Gravelly voice emanates from
The Mausoleum Crypts and Tombs of the Dead;
And once it is heard it burrows deep into the dark recesses of
the Amygdala causing Schitzo-Effective Psychopathic Dementia.
Deep Dark Orange Pumpkins at every window bare fiery golden glowing faces of death;
They are stealing away from tricker treaters the dark secret dreams that lay hidden within every child's breath.
Samhain's Fearless and Heartless ID is exposed;
It's NotIt's not the lipstick gloss
that makes a kiss
the warm pulse beating through
It's not their size
but the words they whisper,
It's not the color
nor the length
nor the glint
of her hair
that makes her special
it is her smile
in the falling rain
reflecting the joy
of yet another Spring,
It's not the time
she spent getting beautiful
that makes her so
but in fact
it is the hours
she was besides my bed
when I was sick
and in fact
it is the minutes
I could hear her breathe
in my embrace
AND in fact
it is the seconds
I saw her cry
(out of happiness)
Because she's beautiful.
It's not the clothes,
nor the jewellery,
nor the colored nails,
nor the drawn-in brows,
nor the words she says
to other people,
and neither it is
It is her mind
that entertains my poems,
it is her charm
that paints my cheeks
and averts my shy eyes from her
It is her soul,
that I love.
You Were Not An Aquarium BoySea-glass became your bones,
brine your blood, and seashells
melded into your skin.
You were not quite an ocean
when you said "This is your sign to love me."
My body was like a building;
tall, cold, almost unbreakable.
I was metallic and sharp,
towering over your waters.
I remember taking your hand in mine,
conch and coral shells scrubbing
my skyscraper wrists, and laughing
about how one day you would
submerge every last bit of me.
Your lips, riddled with argonauts,
found my cheek and I cringed
at the coarseness.
You asked if they bothered me
and I finally told you "I
think I love you."
The Origins Of The Ice Queen (Story)
As the Duke slammed into the cold, hard ground, Elsa knew that she had only made the accusations worse. As the fear began to consume her she ran out of the castle's huge, wooden gates, her breath increasing in speed and intensity the whole time. She heard a familiar voice shout after her. "Elsa! Wait!" It was her sister Anna. She was 2 years younger than Elsa and had a beautiful young face with a rosy complexion and had strawberry blonde hair with a white highlight in it. She wore a green and black royal gown with a flowery pattern over the torso. It was perfect for the coronation that had taken place that day. However, it was not so perfect for chasing the new Queen. "Elsa please! Stop!" Anna shouted at her terrified sister. Elsa started to sprint even faster now, she flicked her wrist and created an icy path in an attempt to slow down her ever worrying sister. Anna slipped and fell onto her behind. She let out a small yelp as she sat, stunned for a moment. She looked up and saw Elsa
SIRENNeath the woe of Ulysses' blood and toil,
A sea of heavenly-fury once awaken'd
Her gaze clad in honey’d delirium ablaze
Of such beauteous prize, he shall yield;
For her tongue hath seized mortal desire
And lo the Moons’ glory shall weep in vain!
Journey’s of madness sung with promise;
— A rising tempest hurl'd to Hades reign
Oceanic rhythms untwine love forbidden,
Breaking the mists of insatiable dreams
The Sirens call ebbed like darkness falling;
Her lust bleeding into the mythic abyss ..
His anguish bestow'd the folding tides,
Unto their lips would perish in mystery
Deeper jewel'd the haunting of his soul,
Forsaken to the ink of Orpheus' muse.
And ghostly twilight shone low and pale,
O’er the hum of those ethereal seas
Long wherest his heart shall forever sail
— Arthur Crow © 2014
You Are My AngelYou came to me in my dreams
When I was below the surface looking up at the sunlight filtering through water molecules
Your hand took mine
And you let me pull you down to lay beside me, where we looked up at everything floating by together
You came to me in my dreams
When I thought about how not worth it this life was and convinced me of otherwise
Your heart sat down beside mine
And I realized I felt alive.
FiveWhen the wind blows,
It speaks your name to me.
When I stare at the clouds,
I see your smiling face.
I watch the people passing by,
I see them wave and say hello,
And I think of you all the while.
At night I look up towards the milky way,
And I see the glowing stars,
And my eyes meet your gaze.
The grass beneath my feet
Is soft like you are to me.
The sunshine on my head
Is warm like your heart.
Everything I do
Makes me think of you.
In everything I see,
You're looking back at me.
In all that I say and feel,
I know you'll always love me still.
For you are my everything,
And my everything is you.
SixI am weak
And I am cold.
You are strong
And you are warm.
I am incomplete,
But with you
I'm made whole.
I am dirty
And covered in mud.
You are clean
And your heart is pure.
What is my world
If it doesn't include you?
I am harsh
And I am rough.
You are gentle
And you are smooth.
Without your love
I am nothing,
And life has no worth.
I am broken
And I am bent.
You are right
And you are true.
And this is why I'm loving you:
You're the beautiful one
Between us two.
Sexual TensionI see the lust in his eyes,
a whirlwind of locked desire,
looking for a way to be unleashed
There's hidden intentions in all he does
He's always finding an opportunity
for our skins to touch
I want him to cross the line
I want to feel what he feels
I don't want to be forbidden anymore
I want to be his sweet meal
To feel different hands on my body
would awaken what I've been trying to hide
The fact that I want him to take me
I can no longer deny
I wish I could touch his body,
feel him up with my hands;
rub myself against him,
do his every command
SevenEach day is a new struggle.
Each day is an uphill fight.
I go out, and I wage war against them,
And I lose.
Then I come home,
Beaten and bruised,
They won the last one,
They'll win the next.
They'l win all the rest,
Until I'm finally dead.
But I am a warrior,
And one who will protect,
One who will serve,
Until his dying breath.
And why do I go out each day?
Why dawn my dented armor?
Because I know what I'm fighting for.
And though they may have victory,
And the sparkling spoils of war...
I have you,
And that is enough
To make me get out of bed each day,
To walk out the door,
To draw my sword and fight them,
To come home beaten yet once more;
But then I see your face
And I know I'd go through it all again
If it meant I won your love,
If it meant your affection.
For you I would fight this many battles:
Seven times seven times seven.
My Dream WorldMy Dream World
Written By : Lobo Di Noccento
Written ON : 1/23/2011
The Day My Poem was written
Sunday Morning at 3am
Daytime sky is of a Soft and Gentle
Vanilla and A Sun of Dark Azure.
Not expectant of what we know...
at least what we know for sure.
The Oceanic Waters are of a Crimson Hue;
with Foam of a Deep Amathyst Imbue.
The Tides Crash upon windswept shores
of a silvering white and a ambering gold
and every piece of silicon and sand
has within it a new dream that someone
shall unfold and behold.
Within this water is aquatic life
that is unlike our own as it reinforces
every joint,muscle fiber,tissue,cartilidge and bone.
The water here is really great for our human blood;
As it revitalizes and enriches it with all that
we get depleated of.
All of The Tree's Bark and Roots are of
a Dark Earthy Brown with a Slight Hue of Gray;
The Leaves are of Mamalade Orange
and Laced with fine lines of Magenta for display.
The Grass is of Hazel,Lavendar and White;
The Breeze smells of Jasmine an
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
Keep in Touch!