Private Kisses

Private Kisses
By Daton L. Fluker

July 10, 2016

You see the trash in the streets? Look away girl. Turn the other cheek because no one will pick it up; my broken heart.

Have you forgotten the promise? Our past aggressions keeps us from our destinies if we let it. I am worthy. But yet, I need some time to rest.

The world is ours baby. I know my wealthy angel is ready to love me. However, I need a vacation and a bunch of kisses to sooth my nervous system.

I’m turning into slush. I’m lost in time. I want to forget, nevertheless, I can’t because I want to be good.

I’m on Mars. I’m sitting on a sandy table drinking tea on Pluto. I’m jogging around Saturn rings. I’m getting cream from the Milky Way.

My imagination is shining like Sirius–the most luminous star in the sky?

However, don’t forget about the shit that grows in the dark. Don’t forget about us.

My truth is not yours to obey. I am a piller of supposed to be lies that you turn your cheek to because I use to be worthy of your grace.

We bear the weight of our actions, which follows us like shadows. The more we dwell on our actions, the more darkness grows.

Don’t forget that I am Daton, the one they forgot to hug. The outcast. The forgotten song. The darkest magic. The lost American.

You don’t get me do you? I deeply apologize. Yet, fill my head with knowledge. Please me until my heart is contempt; until you see heaven in me.

How could I know the world was so big filled with candy canes?

A beautiful female is a silent song I loved so much. She’s gone so fast. She blew like dust.

Raise my cock and you’ll have something nice to sit on. Raise my understanding, and you’ll have my heart and cock to raise.

Young beautiful brown eyed girls will make you fall to your knees and please them.

Her screams subsides. Grabbing my head and pulling it closer; I felt the bed shimmer. Her back tighten. Her tonsils grew dry.

She’s more sweeter than coolaid. And her booty stacks perfectly in bundles like hay. It’s an explosion of darkness and day.

When she glances at me, a nightmare she sees.

My darling dear. My un-announced lover is nostalgic for a past that she sees through rose-colored glasses.

Wake me up with cock kisses. Put me to sleep with forehead kisses. Tease me with nipple kisses. And love me with tongue kisses.

The Dark Polar Bear written by Daton L. Fluker

The Dark Polar Bear

Written by Daton L. Fluker

@datonflukers Add to Twitter

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Incredible things happen when you grip a final product.
Wars waste our brothers’ and sisters’ blood.
But yet, violent waves in crest our pathes with incest; If you adore her, you’ll love a child of earth.
A girl’s heart gives cotton kisses to a polar bear’s broken anatomy.
Nightmares can’t heal without the kind touch of ice and the soothing excutive company of medicine.

Continue reading “The Dark Polar Bear written by Daton L. Fluker”

The World of an Abecedarian written by Daton L. Fluker

The World of an Abecedarian

Written by Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker

http://twitter.com/datonflukers

Criminal hearted but enacted in a guitar’s thrusting crown,
The belly of society is around.
The abecedarian faces the devil’s house on his or her own.
As the warriors prepare his or her norce for their nation’s final war-zone.
She dresses in her gown.
However, the roses of serenity are gone.
Because of ordinance and predetermination, flowers are violently grown with the hellion of heavy metal sound.

…………. Extended words……

A new world is built. And it is designed on the pedals of drum beats and with vaccines of words. It’s my world. In Daton L. Fluker’s portal of abandonment; in his dreams of opportunity, and as many hearts pound in sacred fire, a new world will be finish in due time.

PS:
Rock me out baby.

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“Please, no Black Men” written by Daton L. Fluker @datonflukers

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“Please, no Black Men”
Written by Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker
http://twitter.com/datonflukers
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 I’m yours and evidence to prove our existence.
However, you’ve forgotten me. That hurts. 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 attempting 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 lay naked in front of you on a bed of flowers but still not be 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 my sexy D off at midnight.
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!

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Covenantally written by Daton L. Fluker dedicated to @LZZYHALE and @Pink

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Covenantally written by Daton L. Fluker

Dedicated to Lzzy Hale
and Alecia Beth Moore -Pink

We can’t fully understand civilization. When the shadows call, we come running. When the light calls, we hide in its shadows.
To my beautiful world. We should stand, and not understand. We are, we were, and we will be great.
That’s all I need is Mother Nature. When I see her, all the pain goes away. I’ll die happy. I’ll die with love in my heart.
That’s how dark poetry was created. Silhouettes dance on pink walls. An eyeball is amazed by silent music hailing the shadows.
I don’t know everything; I’m a star. I’m broken. I’m not beautiful. But, I know my words can make tears fall down your lovely tear-ducts.
I can play with you my dear. I love beautiful. And I adore ugly. I can love all.
And I will be, even if you don’t believe I am.
God’s Darkness told me that you will love me. That’s why I am.
I will only except more. I’ll never except less! MOIETITY I’ll never except you. You S.O.B! Never!
My nightmare tantrum, “who will stop me?” Me.
“Who will break me?” Me.
“Who will keep me full of energy and passion?” My dear friend, you.
Tears bleed through my heart. Isn’t intelligence given by time, and not by birth? What if a dog doesn’t bow anymore, is it still a dog?
Hatred guides us to glaciers when dark clouds loses their medium of fire. Who cares about bivalence when our soul flies when we’re free?
I told you that you’re beautiful. But, her wrist shatters when her arm breaks the coffee table because of her nightmare sneezes. Her dark hour.
I’ll eat your cookie out baby-doll. Who changes sexual favors given freely for love? As her wrist shatters, my heart breaks.
I dance on the edge. I’m sorry my chest burns with holes. They bleed with sorrow. Who can love me? Who understands my poetic tongue?
I’ve defeated myself because I’ll bow down to her; I will. So the dog is not a dog when it stops bowing its head; it’s haunting the haunted.
Her kisses curve my head. Painted on shelves and burning in fireplaces her touch mildews. She said, “ignore me and when you do see this you’ll cry hard.”
I’m not a poet – “Ha, ha, ha.” I’m just a man. We drew silhouettes on our skin in the darkness. We drank like fish and we made dirty lustful love.
I wanted you to see me naked and on hard. I shall kiss you under jet streams. My words did not speak to you fool. My heart did.
She left me riding on a rocket. Nightmare creatures dance filthy in their borrows as a muse stays hidden in his cave until his dark hour.
Covenantally.

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Darkness Follows Me by Horror Novelist Daton L. Fluker

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Darkness Follows Me
Written by Horror Novelist Daton L. Fluker
Daton’s Twitter
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 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 we 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 fun 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 more 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.
Mother, lay waste to all my enemies on earth.
Let them know that stardust glows and never burns out. 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.

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Valentine Kisses by Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker

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Valentine Kisses by Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker – February 8, 2014

The comfort of the weary tongue whispers sugar in my cup, as Casy blows out angel’s dust.
A final darkness calls my ear to her precious voice. I please her. Invisible tears fall down my heartbeats as we make Valentine’s Love.
I lose myself in her eyes. Her hair smells like Chrysanthemum rain. Stay away; your touch will bring me to my knees on Valentine’s Day.
The night find sinners kissing. Sexual favors endures the empty basket filling it with blood. Teeth clenches lips. A mouth bits flesh.
I begged. I told her, I’ll drink anything that came out of her. Terrified of my own faith, I watched her spit waste on the hardwood floor.
The undivided carries me to hell. In the desert, madness circles around dead beast. Nightmares fictions from unspoken memories.
Valentine kisses from a horror novelist. Nightmares carry me to darkness. I’ll kiss you with a lizard’s tongue baby.
The war calls me to bear arms while laying naked in the sand. I lay in shame with no reverence to slow my crossing.
When I saw tears fall from her eyes, it magnified everything. The images stayed inside me for days. It stopped my precious world.
She asked me, “who are you?” And I replied, “I’m Daton L. Fluker baby.”
You confuse me with a customary human. I’m not the same as them. I am your reflection. I am the Muse. I am the nightmare King.
The RPM’s hot. The revolutions per minute could never keep track of the time on my mind.
Once it’s done, all thermometers will perish with the last star.
The nightmares in my head make my eyes draw weary. The knowledge of mercy flows out. My body perishes but my stories live. My nightmares end when time ends.
A city of beast shall not be mocked. They are angels to the slaughter. The shadows deduct me into a cataclysm of abhorrence.
Our feet will give out one day my friend. But at least our hearts traveled in the mist. We spoke words.
Not even planets, stars, or dust lasts forever. However, it’s transformed into rock or crystal that adds a reflection of hardness.
Not everyone, but some of us listen, some of us care, and some of us will design our paths with knowledge learnt from guardians.
It reminds me that we can still transform into stars. It reminds me of faith. Beautiful fire will end when it’s fuel burns out.

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Dishonesty and Honesty

We live in a world of foolery. Of disgust. The lifeless sentimental reasons that make us human, dismantles us.
I can see your way. I know why you do it. You subject people to these consequences because of their prosperity, and of you not being able to provide the most indispensable gifts for yourself and your family.
You lie, cheat, and steal from others for survival. Notwithstanding, your survival became more than getting what you need. Your habits become greed. A pirate…
You’ll never perceive my way of life. In addition to, the more dirt that’s done to the crowds, the lesser you will comprehend of my existence.
Men, women, and children use to oppose their enemies, and protected their families, friends, and countrymen from the wrath of nightmares.
No one can secure a nightmare. A nightmare must fix him, her, or itself.
This is what it means when God says, “the meek shall inherit the world.”
No one will understand why they are being attacked and their lives broken.
So they stop fighting.
You have never really seen hell. You probably believe you live in hell, and that’s why you continuously eat from the flowers there.
It’s sweet now. However, it’s only temporary.
If you play the golden harp, people will be attracted to the shiny metal. If you play the wooden harp, people will be attracted to the music.
Furthermore, people will fight over the golden harp.
However, the wooden one, they can always obtain or make one themselves. This is compared to dishonesty and honesty. God’s watching you.

Them Little Rascal Haters

Them Little Rascal Haters

I promised to write a blog about haters. I told my Tweeter friends that the hater blog, I’m planning to write, will be about 1000 words and it still wouldn’t even slice the cake.
I don’t really know why I’m wasting my time writing this blog. I’ll try my best to use derogative language.
First off, lets talk about the haters, who look at a person follow count on Twitter then block them without even saying hello. Or even, like in my case, my account shoots up about 1,000 followers a week “http://twitter.com/datonflukers.” o(^_-)O.
I have wonderful conversations with my followers, and I try my best to answer as many replies as I can. However, these type of haters don’t notice hard work. They drink extreme amounts of haterade juice.
This form of hating is egotistical hating. The individual believes he or she is better than everyone esle and that they should have more followers than their friends.
These type of people need thralls for friends. A thrall is a vampire slave or a fart sniffer.
No matter what a friend does for egotists, egotist haters need bondage slaves who shower them with riches and wipe their asses after they praise the porcelain.
They have the, “what do you call that shit?” Oh yeah, they have the nobility complex.
If you like an artificial intelligent compass stuck up your ass, and you adore when someone commands you to move in a certain direction, please, never gainmore than 200 followers and follow the egotist. You’ll be a perfect cadet for hire. Meaning you’re selling your ass for a low price. Maybe $1.99 or 0.55 cent.
The next type of hater I’ll talk about is the recluse hater or another name for this type of hater is a weasel.
They look for the bad in people. They always need to find something wrong with someone. The recluse hater doesn’t like when people curse, they don’t like smokers, they don’t like violent media, they prefer to have a “Mr. Roger’s friend.” No offense Mr. Rogers. I love all your work, and have watched many of your shows as a child.
Lets get back to the recluse hater. You ever saw the movie, “The Dark Knight Rises” where Bruce Wayne becomes a recluse from being over exerted from crime erupting in Gothic City?
That is what a recluse hater has become. Instead of living like bats, however, they live like weasels.
If a faction of people is to loud or a man or woman says a curse word or even if that individual smells a little mundane, they’ll get up and change their seats. Or they’ll make smacking noises with their gums. They give no respect for someone who is indifferent from them. They’ll block you in a heart beat if they see porn, dirty words, or impassionable talk about asses in their Twitter timeline.
I don’t even like having conversations with recluse haters because no one will ever live up to their standards. If you say something wrong, they’ll try to make you feel bad every single time.
They’ll go to extreme lengths by quoting what you said then just vanishing from your friend list.
I like being who I am. My personality changes. Sometimes I feel happy, sad, arrogant, sleepy, tired, or bored. That’s natural to feel different emotions. A recluse hater, on the other hand, operates with one gear. That gear is happy. So kiss my ass happy bastards.
I had to find a word for another type of hater I’ve experiences during my time spent on social media sites. This type of hater is called a misanthrope hater.
They just hate people period. Either they hate all men or they hate all women. These sick bastards hate someone because of their gender. I’m not talking about sexual preference. I’m describing pure and offensive hate. Another word you might call these type of haters are bitches.
I wouldn’t leave my cellphone laying around on a coffee table when you’re in a coffee cafe and have to go use the restroom. When you come back, a misanthrope hater might hack your phone and download your personal information, trying to fuck your perfectly good life-up. People serously act this way. I seen it a million of times, people accounts are hacked by people who’ve they trusted with their information. These hater’s don’t give a shit who they got to hurt to get a head. Actually, at first they can come off as pretty nice people. They’ll get you courted, after you’re hooked, they’ll jam a rusty arrow through your heart. I’ll beat the hell out of a son of a bitch-ass misanthrope hater. Excuse my French.
The next type of hater I’ll talk about is the head shaker. You just want to wring the fuck out of their collar. You literally want to grab them by the shirt and choke the shit out of them with their own clothes because of their encrypted personalities. These head shakers only believe in main stream media. They’ll never enjoy master pieces from local artist or authors. They don’t believe that real people could create magnificent works of art.
Head Shakers need updated special affects to enjoy any media. They’ll actually make fun of amateur writers. I had some one tell me before, “You’ll never be a published author because you’re a poor Black Man.” Another person told me, Black People didn’t know how to use computers.
If a person doesn’t realize that they are head shakers, they can become a misanthrope hater, not by choice, but because of their social behavior (being interested in certain media, and who they desire to create this type of media). So I say to the head shakers. I’m a publish author. So please kiss, my Big Black Ass.
Another type of hater I really enjoy being around is the competitive hater. They’ll actually try to compete with everything you have done. They’ll even go out of their way to learn the information that you already understand. The competitive haters get extremely agitated when they can’t out perform you, and will usually, use all their energy in their brain to counteract your steps.
Nothing is wrong with a little competition. Competition helps us grow, and these type of haters could be great friends. Nevertheless, you have to clearly comprehend that these competitive friends are competing against you, so that you can play their game (s). If you don’t like competition, please, don’t get to close to competitive haters because they’ll try to show you off or steal all the talents that you may possess.
Never give a competitive hater important information that would help them without any helpful information in return. They’ll never in a hundred years explain how they are rising successfully.
So that’s about a thousand words. I hope you can appreciate what I have to say about Haters. Have a great day.
Sincerely,
Daton L. Fluker

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