Posted: March 4, 2014 in Uncategorized
“Please, no Black Men”
written by Daton L. Fluker
I am the muse, and I apologize that my tongue ashes with the fears of nightmares. But still, beauty can be found in my gums.
Put your ear to my chest. My heart beats slow. Blood pumps through my arteries. You have proof that I’m yours and evidence to prove our existence.
However, you’ve forgotten me. That hurt. So, do you think I’ve forgotten your actions?
And the night is like a dark storm. Nothing’s perfect. And the mirror’s image is low, but the dark reflections are still accounted for.
Only if darkness fears you and I. What spins blind-servants are playgrounds that attempt to house the frugality of entertainment.
It tilts, it turns. She’s beautiful. They don’t know what to make of me. I blew stardust in their ear. I’m lighting their imaginations on fire. I’m destine to be a burning star.
I post sincerity in my words.
Forever is forever.
They won’t accept that you are a star. They want accept that you are a lovely day and a crumbling heart.
The truth is only as raw as It can be. The lost can only lay naked in front of you on a bed of flowers but still not accept.
Hear the sky with your heart. Let rocking roll music blaze my sweet darkness. I’ll be your whisper baby. I’ll be your muse.
You don’t believe I have a heart? You tell them, no Black Men, please. But you are still sucking me off at the midnight hour.
Thank you. I need it. You are a heartless whore. And you’ll die heartless. Using me for your pleasure is heartless, and you’ll be buried that way.
I love what you do to me so much. As the muse, I’m grinding concrete that’s why I’m your mortar. That’s why I’m your toy. That’s why I’m filthy.
I’ll do it again for you. I’ll be your muse again, and again. Over and over again. I’ll be your nightmare. My love, you are an Angel.
I’ll give you my heart. I’ll give you my bush ridden tongue. I’ll give the world my crime. They are magic. Here, take my written words. Kneel to me!
Posted: February 28, 2014 in Camalot Dimension 360, Death Keeper's Associations, Death Keeper's Biological Wasteland, Finished Cries
Tags: British Rock, Daton L Fluker, Horror, love, nightmare, passion, poem, poetry, rock, Tori Lamour
Dedicated to the lovely Tori Lamour
Tori Lamour Twitter
“The Soulless shall Love Again“
Written by Daton L. Fluker
I know it’s real. I know you are serious. I know you’re beautiful.
Darker than anything I’ve ever seen. What do we say to beautiful when the night says that beautiful is dark, lustful, even got damn nasty.
They are tedious. Yes, they are serious. That’s why they look at you the way they do. Monsters they call men.
My dear, I am not an evil man. Those names you called me hurt. I’m a horror novelist, not an evil worshiper. But you believe that we are the soulless.
She’s beautiful. Oh, the things I’d do to her in the dark. I’ve seen her in the light. She’s more than welcome to the pleasure she anticipates.
And thy forgets me when I close my eyes forever. An angel sleeps.
Nightmare woman abstracts kindness into my affliction. When rain comes, a shadow of darkness puddles over the earth.
Every minute it changes. Every minute it breaks. Every minute it lumps. And every minute it bleeds in cracks. What am I?
I gave you my heart my love and not thy tongue. I speak through my flesh thy love. I write through thy bone and not thy fingers thy love.
What am I?
When the sun rises, dream under Mother Nature’s tall vegetation. When it’s night, follow the brightest star. Follow the North Star.
Thy should understand thy wrath of thy actions. I speak faithfully. Did not my tongue get cut out.
You asked, “why do I write dark words?”
Beautiful women fancy many sexual positions with me and my tongue. I’m a sinner. I’m cursed to be a muse. I’m the darkness, and I’m the light.
You did not see her like this. But you worshiped her that way. You gave her your soul. Do you see who I am now?
Are you entertained or fighting me? I’m not your enemy. Do you hear my sniffles now? Do you see my tears now? Do you see my love?
We are not afraid to speak our hearts. That’s what makes us human.
If we can’t speak, then we are sleeping in our own hell.
My razor heart was stunned with warts, there are sequels, with dreams that never won a part.
There’s no blood on my tongue, for the blade is dull. There’s no action in my words, for the night is unsaid. And we conceive thy soulless love.
Posted: February 15, 2014 in Uncategorized
Darkness Follows Me
Written by Horror Novelist Daton L. Fluker
As her beauty rotates, her light glistens and shows us might.
We take from her and she never stops giving. She constantly repeats.
Repeat has made our will stronger. Repeat is a reinforcement. Repeat is what people do to complete common goals. Repeat creates nightmares. For her, I’ll give my life. Because of her, all roads are the same. All roads lead home. All hale Mother Earth.
A heart beams with consternation in the night, while kisses from monsters wither broken impressions in the light.
It started with nightmares. And baby, it will end with nightmares. Please, wipe your heart of tears on my collar.
Do I have to remind you of the stardust I swallowed? Do I have to remind you of God’s Darkness?
Did I not warn you about this 70k prediction? You sexy bitch, did I not comfort you with words blowing devilish concepts of war in your anemic ear?
Voices from shadows divulge horror carols on your smothered lips as a luster of jewels spark in your pupils when kisses take out your beaten lungs.
Can’t I be fair like you? Can’t you love my touch, and I be your star for one day? I don’t deserve it. But can’t a caress your heart with words?
Did I not fill every hole of you with my dripping tongue? Did I not make love to you under the Planet’s Taris? Did I not care on Valentine’s Day!!?
Let the dam be dammed.
Lay waste to all my enemies on earth my mother.
Let them know that stardust glows and never burn. Let them know my sweet darkness.
The war came and took part of my impulse, and it took part of our essence. Did darkness follow me mother?
Wind clusters around shadow caves. When fingertips touch skin, repressed pelts blaze from electrical shock. Demons from my unconsciousness crawl from flames of smoke as ice-cycles jam into my trifling skin. I pray for His Darkness, and I pray for Her beautiful light.