The May Featured Poet is Donna Dallas
Please feel free to email Donna at: donnaanndallas@gmail.com
SKIN AND BLOOD
Save me from myself
from dark thoughts on dark days
from creaks in the floor and taps
on the window
save me from predators who invade
my dreams they strip
my soul bare
from the skin of this life
in my bed I lay
without sleep
hear the wild winds escape time
then darkness comes
presses on me violently
pushes me down deep
into the bones of the bed
HOUSE OF PAIN
I visited you today
Bolt of lightning gone astray
I closed my eyes to reminisce
Of this strange love, I tend to miss
Queer sensations once grazed upon
Moments fleeting now simply gone
Pleasure and pain love and hate
Dissipated acts defy fate
Here so long I had dwelled
I’ll never leave for I am compelled
To call upon your house of pain
Enter inquiring leave in vain
Experience the act of love art of hell
Secrets I have learned I’ll never tell
Screams locked in silence by your key
I’d play the role again if you’d come to me
Blood of lust pain of womb
Endearing gifts from your tomb
Give me all that I deserve
It’s your desire that I serve
Addicted? Yes…Afflicted? Maybe
Only house of pain can save me
Some say it is a need to fill
And I its slave forever until…
We meet again or we meet others
House of pain consumes its lovers
Play the game and who keeps score?
Those with the decadent need for…more
House lend me fantasy, house take it away
The pain that pleases throughout my stay
Gifts of deviance no need to ask
Contribute your submission perform your task
For now I give I’ve yet to take back
Perseverance a gift I need not lack
Darkness you are its darkness I love
I lie down and blackness swoons above
Leather and chains, bondage I’ll take
Give me your drink this poison you make
Touch me, thrust me, then leave me pending
Do it again as I’m always mending
Erotica is my physical state
Reaching to please making me wait
I must leave now always the same
Memories explode like time bombs of shame
Feelings of longing something like sadness
There is no sane method to this madness
Seduce me with passion and lust afire
Rouse and taunt me fulfill this desire
Those uncomprehending think me insane
Crossing the line of pleasure and pain
Your intimate stinging I long to feel
The wounds are temporary they always heel
I melt under your fire that scorches my skin
Remaining the ashes of the ultimate sin
It’s obvious I’ll never leave this house of pain
I’m a prisoner of your futile domain
And I lick my lips as I smile upon my return
Taste the pain I’ve yet to learn
GODS OF A BONEHEAD 6
When my writing ceases to exist
no longer will you know
the intimacies I spilled out
word after word
when I disintegrate to dust and moldy bones
when these pages are yellowed and dry and the ink has faded to almost
blank
how will you know
that I died
that I have died several times attempting to live
I huddle in a small capsule buried within this planet
while you try to escape its terrifying beauty
flagellate my ghosts
those disaster pods of my own demise
they explode countless times
blind me yet I still document
I held fast
even when I writhed in and out of scorn
when I could have lied
instead I drew blood
and scrawled
confession after confession
to the priest buried in the pages
reading
judging
calculating my sins
there’s a lot, mind you
now we simply have a book
locked in a safe
holding a hideous baby waiting to be born
waiting for you to unravel that umbilical cord
so I can still feel connected
to the tit of life
Donna Dallas has studied Creative Writing and Philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School and was lucky enough to study under William Packard, founder and editor of the New York Quarterly. Her work can be found in The Opiate, Anti Heroin Chic, Quail Bell Magazine, Pacific Review, Beatnik Cowboy, The Horror Zine and Bewildering Stories among many other publications. Her recent novel, Death Sisters, published by Alien Buddha Press, has just hit the market.
Donna serves on the editorial team of Red Fez.