Tag Archives: poems


Skim your fingers along the lines of time

Scarred athwart my skin, the marks of sin

The aftermath of everything

My tongue knows truth and is still
rawly real

Equalizing the devil within me

Infinite consciousness reclines in the interludes in omnipresent patience

Unhooked to the acceptance of it all

An arrow thought spellbound to our heart

To emancipate our sin into redemption

The time betwixt your pain and your scar

Is the time betwixt your lesson
and your lesson learned.

~DiosRaw, 30/07/21


Survival ignites, exasperation of our every breath

A universal force dwelling in the shadows of our physical vehicles

Sparkling the match of the burning soul within

Giving hope in your darkest wallowing of days

Floating atop water

Whilst riding life’s turbulent waves

We’re somewhat the same in the master scheme of things

I am me, you are you in everybody’s dreams

That time will never be over and
survival out extends it’s hands

Beyond what the heart can comprehend

Get through the day

Just one portion at a time

And if that seems overwhelming

Too all at once

All loud and in your face

Go by seconds

And then minutes

And then hours

Make the in and out of

Oxygen in your lungs

A manageable thing

There is no clear map when it comes
to survival

Because that represents a multiplex of filling in scribbles for everybody

And a numbered list could fill all the blank pages but won’t you seen the elusive of the trees

And sometimes survival looks like staying up until the orange hues of the morning sun rises and the birds chirp their routine symphony

So you can rock back and forth in the nest of your blankets

Soaked in tears and sweat and anguish

Sobbing till the line between heaving breaths and puking becomes more than blurred

Because how do you tell your family and friends that you want to die?

Because it all hurts so much

And sometimes survival looks

Like eyes sunken and glazed

But not much can mask the acidic taste of panic

Shaking hands around a mug with alcohol optional

That comes with your heart continuing to hammer against your ribs

And sometimes survival is all smiles and laughing until you cry

And laying in the middle of a road
on a dead end street with a person you love

And your hands are almost grasping and they are so beautiful and you are alive

And it feels so good
And you are alive
And you are alive
And you are alive
And you are past the survival
And you are living

Thriving once more.

~DiosRaw, 29/07/21


Scorched by truths expelled from the consciousness of the conscience

Sun’s projected flames burning with incandescence

Like Jupiter’s iridescence of fluidic gases, valiance of the brightest blue

Scorchings of a myriad torchings

Of a reasonable red, saturated

Approaching the regal Sun God

I am coruscating, scintillating

As I concave in the Solar nucleus cell, nervously shakingly fused

Chemistry rippled and expedited ethereally

Overwhelmed by the galaxy encyclopedia

Swimming through the deluge of stars

Innocent souls

In no time

To be consumed by the knowledge black hole

The sunlight will not penetrate

This dark shawl I draw around myself

I’m my own black hole

Zooming through the doors to the soul

Dancing through the gravitational pull of the universe’s twirling in synchronous divine planning

We are celestial flames

In the interstices of a intergalactic expedition mission

Fluorescent green, yellowish-orange or magenta colours

We are the supergiant in the existence of a dying solar

My death bringing

Reality to a closure

Seems the closer to coming closer

The nearer I find myself believing in

Suns caressing horizons in the womb of the ocean

Of parallel universes

As a pin-point in space

Touching upon stars, in every

Parallel simultaneous life

My metamorphosis was

To the silence

A conceptualised black hole of our unconscious or conscious or intentional or unintentional making.

~DiosRaw, 28/07/21


In these impermanent moments when life and death converge

Love is the refuge leaning in to submerge

When on the verge

Bleeding out womb wounds

Complications melded with fainting tunes

Sleep deprived, drained and anemia lurking, iron starvation twisting my psyche

Emergency room’s florescent lights dull hum at 18:07

Again she writhes in pain despite the painkillers she never wanted to take

It’ll end they say

Though there’s no end in sight

Death flowers up through warm

Forgotten past life trauma psychics say

Wait for the doctor’s diagnosis

Somewhere the blood flows like a poisoned river

Somewhere florescent lights dim
and all across the UK lights fade, the characters in the infinite dream

Lion-hearted mask drop
Not here
Not yet

How long can you keep up the smiling when there is a torturous void inside?

Dunked under, gasping for air

Anxiety strangling the soul

Sleepless nights wired staring at walls

Can’t cope with this trapdoor

Energies sturring up inside

Debating inside do it or not

Baring the observer of hundreds of universes spinning and mingling with my aura, an unconscious dance; tearing up inside, my ego spits me out and chews it up, the thoughts of what could be cut the soul into smithereens.. Quietly tearing through numbness..

Deadly delirous yet sanest sane

Slipping into the insane

When will the day come when the poems are pregnant with the sweetest notes of my soul?

The melodies caged within the worn out chambers of the heart

Waking in a pool blood bath

Storms whipping up in my mind

The devil is in the midsts

Can’t feel anything anymore

Salivating at relief, where are you?

Black hole

How much pain can a person take until they break?

The more you run, the more it comes for you

Hormones dishevelled, blood loss, flooding numbness and tingling, not well in the head

Stiffled, suppressed, help,making myself sick, creator of own reality, exploding a birth of supernovae cocooned within


Too much pain wringing my mind

I wonder how did it get to this

Where have you gone, where are you?

Did you ever leave?

I wonder if I’ll fall through the crevices, a baby chick dropping out of a tree, deformed wings

Running all night long, feeling in control

In my soul

Gold, brewing in the astral spheres

Oh I dream

Trying to walk to smoke the cigarette, my dummy, stuff I never imagined

Each step a knife cuts through my gut, coarsing through every cell of my being

Limitations numerological ruminations

Need therapy

Just hold me in yand never let go

It’s self love I know

Addictions on the verge of collapse

Delirious to connect, can’t do this, can do that, what the is that?

Can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t weep

Depression creeping up, lack of oxygen, lack of blood, neurotransmitters befuddled up

Rumbling, I sense the presence of doom sinking and plunging seemly without consent

We are no closer to home

Yet it’s already here in this quantum striny

Flash of red-white ER lights

Wail of sirens

Bedded and waiting

Bleeding, weak, faint and desperate pleas of painting

As the IVs drip, drip, dripping clear fluids

Old blue hospital air in a room without sun

Still waiting

Yields to cell with the shield bearing insurers at Blue

Still the drip, drip, dripping of the IV bag

Forces me to keep my shaky arm down
against the blood panels

Exhale… resignation

Forced admittance

Transferred to room 5162

Hospital blue again

Beside colour coded lines beneath the signs for ante-natal, children’s, orthopedics, geriatric care,
concentric sets of double doors

Past murals hung on whitewashed walls

Filling space but not the time

Which stretches and expands as I walk the corridors toward ward three

Reception staff are busy at their desks, scuttling from here to there

Do they know they are working for the devil?

The unconscious beauty of being in service to others yet

Thinking the good they do, yet a knowing that the loop circuitry is to keep people sick

To make the orgy of money for the devil’s playground, maya

Here, propped up, I make a home for these momentary hours or nights

Blankets cradle me so the locked hair
cascades around the weary resting face
and plunges down as her safety net of protection

The Wheel of Fortune is on the big screen

As patients echo lulls in the emergency room

Churning, cold, endlessly waiting yet being in this carnival of melancholic abyss

Alone yet never alone. I love you.

~DiosRaw, 22/07/21

Poetry By Eleanor & Amber {1} ~ Anam Cara

Extending tentacles of our presence, to chance serendipity of what may become; hands unfurled bare the gift of a fellow sister to dance this, at times, arduous earthly existence.

Approaching with the subtle grace of a flower beginning to bloom, petals slowly opening, swaying in the wind, soaking up every drop of morning dew; it is the fragility of new beginnings that reveal the beauty of our cosmic possibility.

And all at once, chemistries synergise, a connection formulates, deepening and expanding; intrigue pulls the magnetic resonance back and forth evaporating anxieties and past perceived brick walls.

Moving to a rhythm all our own, yet we hear the symbiotic beat of a drum, charging ahead – bada bum bum bum! Vulnerability or folly? I think it not the latter. On the field before us, the Lily and the Rose once resolute, are alone no longer.

Imaginary boundaries betwixt lands, intimate yet bittersweet physical distance. Offerings and sweet nectar of gifts for the soul spur the troubled mind to trudge along it’s melancholic path. Amnesia of time, the guards of the heart melt, days go by with conversations proliferating like wildfire, a soul connection amidst synchronicities.

Undoubtedly, we both can see how precious our friendship can and will be! Again and again, reaffirmed. Come now, let’s shake our trees, learn every branch, leaf, and twig. Inhibitions disappear and I am only myself with you—raw with such a fabulous view of what can be. Ah, how I relish in our sweet POSSIBILITY!

~By Eleanor {YouLilDickens} & Amber {DiosRaw}


My shackles are my thoughts, my over-ambitious out of sight dreams

My shackles are the voices in my head, so loving yet so protective in ways illogical it seems

My shackles are the moments where I stayed silent when I should have spoken

My shackles are the choices I made that still relentlessly haunt me out in the open

My shackles are the ideas that never turned to action, actions that could have changed my life

My shackles swamp me entirely and weigh me down, cutting every move made, pricks of a knife

My shackles speak to me, sometimes they even listen to my pleas

The shackles that bind my heart are slowly increasing, squeezing the penultimate drops of will see

They are the same shackles that I’ve fought so hard to break

But then, I am back in the corner where my shackles bind me floating in a lake

Scared of it all

The memories

The empty thoughts

The unresponsiveness of the sky

The soul grinds

Throws the key

And just lets it be

Clamped tight for the night

Phantom shackles

Thanks to the cold remedy the mind thinks heals so well…

Until the cracks of the eyes open onto another glimpse of dappled light

In an unfamiliar place

Maybe this will finally end the soul of this destructive chase

Or to another breakdown

Maybe the same whirlwind

That spent the last 8 hours

The shackles. The shackles. The shackled.

~DiosRaw, 21/07/21