Vomit Poetry Challenge [Day 9]: the thousandth sword that I hold

30-Day Vomit Poetry Challenge: Day 9. No stops, no deletes, no edits–just write and keep writing. Publish as it is.

My second missed day. This was for October 11th.

the thousandth sword that I hold
in my hand, will be my last;
glorious songs I have sung
with the very essence of my soul
the blood and vibrations are
one blurry flash of crimson and red
there is something cosmic about
this dying world without a name
that I used to dream about ending
in this breathless beginning
in this very moment
this glorious song of birth


War Machine

conscience breaks like
bones break under heel;
its heart drips diesel, sings
of blood and oil; black
as the phantom laughter
that stills the breath of
every soldier
that dares
to meet


hearts asunder

conscience in pieces

words fall like the tears of god, like rain

we watch the world tumble to its end

but our heads will never lower

our backs will never bend

we make our actions eternal

by honouring truth and justice

because we are warriors

we fight, we give all

we sacrifice our lives

for what we believe in

for peace, for love

for a better world





Somewhere inside of me—somewhere

recluse and disembodied—dwells

my various selves that have been

created out of malleable delusions,

whipped into tangible forms

as my one true self deforms, and grows

recalcitrant to my rule.


This intermittent decomposition

of the soul, occurs slowly, while the

mirror loses my reflection

and disfigures my image into

something uncanny and utterly twisted,

turns me into someone I cannot bear to look at.


I cannot live like this anymore. 


It is then the portions of my character

stirs with unease, refusing to hide and

scurry in the ditches of my uncertainty

any longer. They thud against my

left temple, wanting out, erupting

from the crevices of my body

and burning my skin. I don’t think

I can hold them in and I shall not try to.

This damned rebellion! The shattered

pieces of my desires waging a sweet war against my

throne of false security and comfort

forcing me to open my eyes, giving me pain

and granting me hope. They yearn for the light,

and I yearn to be free, and on the battlefields

we meet, wanting to be whole, whispering to

each other a promise that will bind us,

forever and ever,

until death do us part.

Dragon Bone

(Original painting by Margaret Lindsey)


Its eyes used to shine like glamorous amber,

Bejeweled by the hands of the sun—

A seemingly, everlastingly light.

Its talons—the holder of puppet strings—

Pulled at the hearts of men, drew out fear

Like picking a flower

Crushing it with a childish smirk.

Ah, the dragon’s laugh, the beast’s taunt.

Lives—brushed away like dust

Armours trampled over

Their silver hues so easily lost, so quickly eaten away

By blood and despair and rusted romance

By death’s cold fingers and something numb.


Until one day it

Heard voices, ubiquitous like winds

Speaking of deformed joys, nightmarish boredom

The inability of its reptile heart

To love, and the indigestible terror

Leaking out of a men like black acid

Shockingly burned down its throat

The backfire of its own malice

Dangerous, weakened, dark.


Buried deep inside a cave

Surrounded by slumbering stones

Dwelled a lonely fossil, a piece

Of dragon bone, cloaked

With centuries of unheard whispers

A knight’s wit and lion-heart

A sky-tearing shriek, a relenting roar

An eyeless blade, scratching at the impenetrable scales,


A quiet, willing phase

A thousand-year-old curse–

A dragon bone’s boisterous past.


By Kim T.


My dearest King,

These are the days when your face

Is paler than the moonlight

And you are numb, because you’re tired.

A defeated royalty; you warrior heart fails

To lift your warrior arms.


These are the days when the people you swear to protect

Protect you instead, as they have always have done

Always behind your back

But now they will be your shield

And fight your war with you


Please hold on

Because I swear to protect you

I swear, I promise

I will fight this war with you

Those weight on your shoulders

Let me carry it, too…though

I cannot understand your pain

I can understand your fear, for I, too…

Am afraid.


So hang it there, my dearest King

Because I will protect you

And this war will be over,