Best Mutilating Poems

Beauty and the Beast

In the deep core of her skin
I feel a human who is no saint  
Cutting out her heart, ripping everything to shreds
Leaving my prey gutless, in every form of sin    (HUSBAND) 
Watch the last beat of her heart...

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The folded corners and wrinkled pages
of catalogs that were tattered and ripped
From the first of October until late in December
we drooled,
we fawned,
we lusted, 
we swooned and giggled
mutilating each page
until the pictures faded.

Sears and Roebuck, 
Monkey Wards 
JC Penny’s, 
Macy’s, Mattingly’s, K-mart.
Our wish list grew long
more...

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Barbed wire seems a 'thorny' subject on which to opine,
But there arose a need for such for people and beasts to confine!
Cowpokes cussed as they worked with it mutilating their hands.
Sheepherders fussed with cattlemen as it spread across their lands!

'Tis said back in 1874 Joseph...

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The spring of healing has its own anthem, 
It takes the sand and the sun to mold an ornament of time, 
Glaring upon the moving mirror that floats on cold water, 
Blinded by a blaze set by the sins that made silent quivers run through...

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They gave our children mind altering
poisonous drugs to eat,
and we said thank you.
They gave our children excessive violence
and sadistic sex films to see,
and we said thank you.
They performed mutilating surgery
on our children’s' genitals, and we said
thank you.
They turned public education into
propaganda and indoctrination,
they blasphemed God...

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Shift gears, shift gears, excite our spiritual peers, 
they’ve lived for years… observing our generations of tears, 
 
for Love’s sake from the limitations of egos’ innovations…
the outer self logic, the mechanic.. the mechanic, of cumbersome thought,

 processes the established enemy , escape… escape...

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Female lips that don’t belong on me
Can anybody sense those colors are not mine?
I cry in blue, red , yellow twirls
just mutilating  body that doesn’t belong to Soul

Incarcerated in a breathing mask
I look at  YOU begging to see ME
As pupils burst the deepest...

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“What are we when we are not...?”

MAN:     A malevolent master making mountains of a mindless mass...
             A meaningless magician motionlessly manipulating many minds...
      ...

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I was around fourteen when the charms of girls began to beckon,
And I was about fifteen when I had my first date, I would reckon.
'Way back then there were certain rituals that must be observed,
Some of which left me quite baffled and somewhat unnerved!

The evening...

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When we were babes all we needed was a smile
Along with a hug that would last us a while
A mother’s aroma coming toward us with a kiss
It’s those moments in time that we live in bliss

Our dads making funny sounds and faces
With words of wisdom...

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Welcome To The 21st. Century
 (by Joan Donnelly Ellis October 22 2015)

Have you ever felt separated from society,
 Through no known fault of your own,
 Because there's been a decline in social gatherings,
 Since messaging's increased via internet and cell phone ?

Have you ever sensed...

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HE walks slowly
along the engorged path
of midnight madness.
Spilling crude pain
each crippling step 
of the way.
With angular eyes
a fertile grim heart and
an infinitely defective 
MIND...HE
quietly steals 
the innocence of 
glossy blossoms
who unknowingly 
sprout or roam 
HIS gritty black trail...
Forever tarnishing
bushy roots 
and buds once pure,
mutilating their...

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The season approaches,
Speeding toward us on arctic zephyrs,
but the coldness is more than air
it seeps under the skin
where loneliness begins.

Is there any other day
where solitude's talons rake,
mutilating peace of mind,
quite so much as Christmastide.

Every commercial, acid sweet,
pouring depression over wounded souls,
digs it way to the...

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roving black hole
devours
a misplaced life
somewhere
in the futile fog
of wandering warfare

it's baked in the cruel cake:
an ultimate deletion
is coming for us all
with groaning glee

we scratch an incendiary itch
under the hood of 
a mutilating maelstrom
where cryptic terror gushes 
from loose AI cannons

I fear it all
but there's nothing
to...

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My guitar strings in the moonlight should be something beautiful,

but the cold liquid white just makes everything harsher.

–not soft like snow, but deceptively fine –

Light is discordant 

like my clumsy fingers that keep 

mutilating the restless heavens with their attempts at mourning.


Why won’t they move...

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