"hemoglobin" poems
it's the management
here to inform you
your lust has been hacked
we know what your thinking
what you hide
we are all up in your business
like cyber terrorist's
don't ruin your life with to much self respect
we are all watching you **********
to mamma mia meets a hundred shades of crimson
and fight club blood ****
while you ***
screaming
ooooooooh god
licking
holes and poles
like a pig at a trough
praying to be handcuffed and on your knees
sweating and hysterical, a red moon struck **** face
high on drugs
in a dream better then this life has to offer
life is full of yogas
***** pony position
bouncy bouncy
i'm the light in your darkness
i know what you do
i want pieces of you, you wont show anyone else
your sickness, is my own
you are my love slave
turning me *********
who loves to hurt you
who's the *****
who's the switch
your flawless
now
cry me a river
move a little bit faster and to the left
your **** is a cartoon
**** grinning emoji
bleeding shrieking
fu fu fu fu *******
your brains running out of your eyes
gimmie all your venom
***** movie poem's
*** tongue and *****
your mouth like hemoglobin jewelry
saliva diamonds
kiss that
you'll never go back
squealing smooth heat
breathing winds of perfume
love and pain
united by
tragedy and desire
by
the grotesque and the beautiful
like thirst holds stones
stop crying
you know baby
you look your best on the toilet bowl
shameless
a delicious little *******
that holds me close to life
like a baby to the womb
please
stop banging on the door
i'm using this stall
Thank you
The Management
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
Life energy radiates within--
literally the energy of beings
exist within your veins;
hungry animals thirst within those capillaries.
The lungs that heave
are the muscular tissues of little chickens--
tendons that tore to make you strong,
elongated strands of fat from each bite
made the skin around your lips.
Though the calcium of bones
was not used in this current cuisine--
blood was made into pudding
dessert maybe used to make hemoglobin.
We feast on flesh to create our own
same goes for the creatures that we eat
they mangle the essence of life
to satisfy their own longevity.
All must eat to survive,
remember with each bite
comes the sacrifice from the sky
it begins with the Sun,
and ends with the Earth.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
People out here thinking life ain't worth living
So they take a life.
I guess they find worth in killing
More worth in drug money
More worth in pride
I wonder how many folks died
Shot dead because of a side eye
It don't make you a man because you ride..
For your crew
It don't make you a woman because you lay on your behind ...
For your boo
I don't love the streets but I love the people in them
Locked in a mindset can't find there way out of the system
Forget the street rules!
The G-code!
The hemoglobin soaked street code
I'm not that guy.
Father in law behind bars.
My dad shot yeah he the one that died.
I will only die for Christ's sake
The one that died for me when I was ***** as a used ****** on cracked asphalt.
I owe the streets nothing!
Yet I must to tell them about the blood of Christ.
Understand if your blood covers the streets it does nothing!
Just death ..pain..a open chest.. Mortician's and Funeral Homes
In the streets everybody stiff stuck rigamortis
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
An irrefutable dream,
fulfilled tenfold in the illusion
made imperfect by dreamers' oblivion,
sought by the delver of selves.
Rejection of messengers,
the hive of deluded apathy
that saturates the air thick with the droning of silent hesitation
hexagonal compartmentalization,
sundering your cedar carapace,
which cancerous excess shatters,
and only cracks remain;
the afterthoughts of paradise
and undiscovered paths of depression,
an anxious exodus of life-force.
Part thine red sea,
lest plate tectonics make waves,
that cause molecules of hemoglobin to disperse in light,
the crimson tears of a soul,
sweeter than the lips coveted.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 2:10 AM UTC
It's an animal beastly thing wrapped up warm in stigmas headlines daydreams sleepdreams ice cream headspin. pain.
Sirens call in my upper chest or my abdomen, maybe. a ****** sea. fish of mens' hooks eels and seaweed wound around aorta blood pumping mind squeezing toes cracking new blister dried fluid. cracks and flakes a flushing cycle, not over the **** yet.
salty eyes heavy chest silver parcels unending quest not shiny particles. Head spin crack of dawn hey look the moon is gone. observed the craters they were my neighbours a hole in my heart like the one......
Don't play mean i try and try green bean carrot pencil brush pen, still here? Run! too hard. Curdling scream turns sour on my tastebuds my tongue has been dissatisfied. Add it to the list! lately I know these things should not have been acknowledged. Bed. No. Kitchen work? Yes. Hurts me through and through and I know it's because it is me and it cannot be handled but it settled in the pit of my stomach and it made itself a happy home. I HATE IT.
BLOOD:
*juice
gore
cruor
claret
hemoglobin
sanguine fluid
clot
plasma
vital fluid*
why would I ever use blood?
Porous salt bruises help mind chooses slugs and moths but i want insects like ladybird bees. Keep me weak and feed me lies because not once did you see me you only looked right past me. how does it feel, little peach, to be dishing out bowls of dinky lies. i ate it you were trusted you were good there's just so many people coming.
when the moon rises and the sky twinkles lights about you its easy to be sad but its time for you to blossom
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
mark of cain in my hemoglobin, i'm more open to repast on brains.
to dine on flesh enmeshed in baseball parks and homes restrained
by greed of the same. and the cry of the people takes great pains
to refine the message of a blank stare. a blemish, stark with catacombs
disarranged in harm honey. the ogre of pine. the amber pane
where we bleed. we name nameless, by the by,
to the finish.
but not
alone.
up your petticoat with my blind cleaver. my Occam razor to your stain.
a fine mess express in hateful art and boneless jade
we feed on the frame of our reference. skylarking harmonious curves dismayed
by their own mind. they confess it. at the statefair. replenished, they knish in falderal
disengaged from honesty. the poker blind. where the eye staid.
where we need. we need most ... tell ya why.....
to diminish
but not
atone.
and so it goes. i erode the continent. sneaky pete in the crease of all strange.
itchy feet. maimed in false lies of the ripple. made fake
to real love. unclaimed. a gangly part of broken promises made
we retreat at last. with our last mimes. we undress. with savoir faire. distinguished in our dashery
ill fated. calamity's bark. hard to define. where the mind misbehaved.
we're complete most where the hole resides...
to imprison
but not
hold.
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 10:29 AM UTC
1.
Princely I am, as Michigan loam,
as carefully turned mud,
as old, old dust––
my breaths are still and unresolved
and don’t dissolve in alcohol
like snakes or dead, bloated fish––
I am nothing monumental.
2.
Stuttered breaths lie in limp open circles around our feet,
hanging by threads of unmade promises––
symmetry was never my forte.
The bent nose,
the crooked lips,
the slow-ballooning wen where nitrogen bubbles––
my flesh is like untilled soil,
all raw and swollen with possibility.
3.
You asked me if it was probable
to find life on Mars
where the iron-leeched sand
crumbles like dried hemoglobin.
I don’t know about amino acids or genesis
or the first man of Dust,
much less mysteries of lovesickness, respiration,
really good ***
We’re barren in different ways;
your dust comes from dreams, from heaven,
crimson and majestic
and dead as Olympus Mons
while I am like moon dust,
just as cold as your bone-dry lakes of carbon dioxide,
but paler, heavier,
and more remote.
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
I gave blood today; I wanted to be a Good Samaritan, help those in need. My blood, after all, is healthy, pure. The thing is though, is that as I watched my life slowly ebb into the pint-sized plastic bag of rescue, I was imagining how lovely it would be for all of it to flow out, into a bag, into the bath, into the universe. To be empty, weightless, cold. As the blood pulsed out of my veins and my arm became weaker, I wished for my eyes to close and for my thoughts to slow down, for the discombobulate realm I call my life to slowly disappear or at least evolve into a breathtaking pasture of wispy freedom. Once my arm was emptied and the possible end was stopped, they told me - drink up, drink up, eat up, eat up - replenish the sugar and tiny hemoglobin cells that I so gracefully supplied. I took hold of the juice, and I took hold of the cookie, but once out of sight, I tossed them to the side. I wanted the feeling of faintness, dizziness, the insecurity of being caught in between two worlds. And as I sit here now with a muted mind and a slight headache, I am slightly pleased.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
We are only siblings with one thing
that connects us at birth is genetics
and chemical DNA
Whilst our spirit, soul and energy
are from worlds away
seperated by will and the cosmic fate
All through life we open up
to accept and forgive
to with truely live
We have our differences
even with or without the X's
Theres still a connectedness
that cant be easily suppressed
The hemoglobin blood tissue flow
is where our DNA grows
We share the droopy lid eyes
and the addictive traits
and personality lies
ankles and feet that cant
wieght or structuraly stand
I idolized you both so now
so now im alot like you both
and myself defined by my
own values, morals and oaths
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
Shiny copper eyes look up (glazed with a film that people aren't interested in paying for),
(carrion for those who carry-on) black feathers dancing in slivers on the asphalt,
the only hot body the mass of the sun.
Underneath the flesh curling and writhing
maggots dance, gliding past beads of hemoglobin sweating
through the epidermi like tears
she cries when he walks out,
the door slamming like the bass upstairs and the pounding
of the drums in her ears as she tries to leap the first
hurdle of getting over the gate,
knowing his money is on this and God won't
help him when he loses the debt money that everyday builds up; hiding the letters
from his wife has become an art
exhibition that he's wanted to attend since high-school
and now, laying on the ground, perfectly still and in a pose locked by rigor-mortis
with
Shiny copper eyes.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 1:51 PM UTC
Mark of Cain in my hemoglobin, i'm more open to repast on brains.
to dine on flesh enmeshed in baseball parks and homes restrained
by greed of the same. and the cry of the people takes great pains
to refine the message of a blank stare. a blemish, stark with catacombs
disarranged in harm honey. the ogre of pine. the amber pane
where we bleed. we name nameless, by the by,
to the finish.
but not
alone.
up your petticoat with my blind cleaver. my Occam razor to your stain.
a fine mess express in hateful art and boneless jade
we feed on the frame of our reference. skylarking harmonious curves dismayed
by their own mind. they confess it. at the statefair. replenished, they knish in falderal
disengaged from honesty. the poker blind. where the eye staid.
where we need. we need most ... tell ya why.....
to diminish
but not
atone.
and so it goes. i erode the continent. sneaky pete in the crease of all strange.
itchy feet. maimed in false lies of the ripple. made fake
to real love. unclaimed. a gangly part of broken promises made
we retreat at last. with our last mimes. we undress. with savoir faire. distinguished in our dashery
ill fated. calamity's bark. hard to define. where the mind misbehaved.
we're complete most where the hole resides...
to imprison
but not
hold.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
You know what fear is?
Would be a grand expression.
Girl, you are the only one that I fear.
and I am everyone's greatest fear.
Sorry to say but you do not fear me.
The fear runs underneath every word that trembles out.
Perhaps the mumbles are my stifled voice.
Grasped by an ever clenching throat.
Each "I'm here" fills my lungs with another desperate breath.
I approach my foggy glass door smiling at your ghostly shadow.
My flesh does not peal back nor blur into a gnarly wound.
Scents of plush comfort and feeling of opiates flourishing.
Granting my hemoglobin, plasma, and marrow.
One does not fear ones flesh but the eagerness to provide.
Fearing not the donor but the blood they give.
Pledging to yawn and inhale your tranquility
while expelling my own insanity
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 8:46 AM UTC
Of course human blood is sweet!
How else could they get us to eat meat?
We are carnivorous by design, &
Any feeble gesture of Vegan defiance,
Is seen as a threat to the species.
Vegetarians are mocked, marginalized,
Or made vestigial.
Of course human blood is salty!
Oozing red, warm and syrupy.
I am lion-hearted Mufasa,
Swaggering ‘cross the savannah,
Licking savory hemoglobin off my jowls,
My ***** swinging in the breeze.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
Proteins oh Proteins,
How much you do for us!
You are our support
The framework keeping us up
The bones under our skin
You are the mad scientist
encouraging chemical reactions within us
Enzymes, catalyzing reactions
You are our traffic regulators
Signaling how much,
Hormones
Like insulin regulating glucose in the blood
You are the detectives within us
Figuring out what it bad
Then flagging it for destruction
You are our truck drivers
Shuttling materials to
and fro
Hemoglobin, carrying oxygen from the lungs
You are our storage
Our shelves packed to the brim with
materials
Like ferritin storing iron in our bodies
There is so much you do
That is key to our survival
...
However shall I remember all you do
for my test tomorrow?
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
we are the children and we are not okay.
first is the child who dreams of flying away and seeing the world.
their hair is short and often wild and they alternate between fidgeting and serenity in the blink of an eye.
last wednesday, they wanted to hurl themselves off the vincent st thomas bridge so they could watch the port lights whizz by and boats cut across the dark, glassy water on the way down.
second is the child who dreams of a full kitchen and a house filled with books.
their cheeks are round and their eyes are big and they can spend hours sitting still and focused.
tonight, they wanted to be hit by a car so they wouldn’t have to finish the job themselves.
third is the child who dreams of people that love them and refuse to leave.
their eyes are the most brilliant blue you’ve ever seen and they carry themselves with a careful, learned grace.
last tuesday, they wanted to slice their arms open and bleed out on their bed, tainting the peter pan sheets with irony and hemoglobin.
fourth is the child who dreams of lazy days and warm beds and loving cats.
their body is bruised in a careless way and their shoulders are narrow and they only stop moving when they sleep.
last thursday, they wanted to purge their body of every ounce of food they had ingested and lock their bedroom door and cut off all contact with the outside world.
last is the child who ceased to dream.
their body is scarred and their bones weak and they haven’t moved in quite a while.
last friday, they tucked a gun under their chin, murmured a prayer with eyes turned heavenward, and yanked the trigger with a certain kind of finality that is only found at the end of books and at funerals.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 5:20 AM UTC
Words are like sharks’ teeth—
rows upon rows of them
sitting like pews in an empty cathedral—
the light playing through the stained-glass windows of the gill slits—
glinting through the busy, flitting motes
of plankton dust.
Words are like sharks’ teeth—
endlessly guarded,
but easily discarded,
flipping like coins in an Italian fountain—
sinking into the cerulean abyss
of the Adriatic Sea.
Words are like sharks’ teeth—
a fatal phalanx
oft dismembered,
seldom remembered
except as but an evolutionary assemblage—
a prehistoric assembly line.
O, but
words are like sharks’ teeth!
The edge takes,
the point drives home—
the carnal hunger of the gums
resonates throughout the jaw,
compelling the incisors
to test their power
against the defenseless tautness
of the prey’s flesh.
The eyes roll back,
the neck jerks.
The water fills with a crimson miasma—
a hemoglobin ecstasy—
a feeling of God
flowing through the machine.
Words are like sharks’ teeth.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 2:39 AM UTC
poker face, deadpan
hemoglobin lips, body
gore, angel cake
(tastes just fine coming back up)
sins of the flesh, why
can’t i scour below the skin?
call me baby girl, make me
cry, i’m afraid to say it,
hit me, i want your attention,
harder, excoriated
before you, glimmering
***** cherry scented and
bleeding.
bile, tabula rasa,
i know better, but
i’ve got a cavity to fill, sweet
heart, rotting
on the tile floor,
i leaned over, retched,
and trespassed
god’s will to be clean
again.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
I'm digging a knife
into my prosthetic limbs,
imploring my body for a reaction.
--like a prayer;
calling out for an
answer though one
is never expected--
There are these gashes
down my shin, in my mind
I see angry cuts that bleed
out, pouring sweet hemoglobin
onto the tile floor below, coagulating
into a beautiful scar.
It is only a vision; fantasy of the mind.
A quick look downward reveals
only chiseled tendrils of plastic.
Yet I'm still digging.
Knife after knife.
Limb after limb.
--first the left arm,
then the other,
both the legs, soon
up towards the torso--
The knives get larger
now they are serrated,
and sharpened to the death,
begging for a wince of pain,
a drop of blood
to quench that thirst.
Each **** holds new hope;
a magnificent anxiety.
Each knife holds a gleam
of excitement deep in the steel
that draws cursive across
my corpse.
Still, no spillage ensues,
naught a flinch from my tense
anticipating nerves.
But you, my new knife,
are quite exquisite.
Could I, perchance,
entreat you to gut me?
To slit me open?
Dig out my corpse, knife,
find me something worth hurting for.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Somehow, love, you seeped into my bloodstream - coating each hemoglobin with the wildfire love you house.
I paved you an entry unto my very own heart only to find each trace of you, gone.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
There are two moons,
the one I used to cut my wrist
and the one that followed me home,
bathing my blood in silver light,
its round-eyed innocence gone.
My skin glowed white, hemoglobin
starved, celestial, cementing
my place in the firmament,
so that the universe cried with me,
cratering all the worlds with its tears.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
I accepted the sky
with these small hands of mine
I was ignorant to the brutal, sleepless grind of a lifestyle:
My radioactive brain chews on the nerves behind my heavy eyes
Who want for nothing more than to close up shop for one moon.
My ribcage desperately tries to grow flowers every fall
but I am not as optimistic as it is.
My legs that dipped in lead like a chocolate covered strawberry;
Ugly gray rag dolls that I drag behind my weary body.
My mind that screams at me to hide in the strange recesses of my mind
like a child tap, tap, tapping on the fish tank
My blood is a mixture of fear and hemoglobin.
Despite the pressure of failure; the sky escaping me to kiss the ground
and crush my porcelain bones,
because the two lovers haven’t talked in a while.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
I cannot really it explain,
but I can give it
one helluva try.
It's a million (or more)
fuschia-pumpers,
the spilling of hemoglobin
& red corpuscles,
broken bones
bleached white,
lying in the sun.
And streams of blue
tumbling from
the duct-factory
& the silent
green fields.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 8:30 AM UTC
The light seems ***** second hand
Yet scores his eye with a purple brand
With no more ears to fall upon
Unheard is the voice of the hopeless one
Certainty replaced by doubt
His words are vacant, hollowed out
And cynical his lexicon
With a tarnished soul, the hopeless one
Hemoglobin understaffed
The blood bank in its overdraft
Prescription fed automaton
A neutral mask for the hopeless one
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
the night sky and I watched in
silence as he lay there
hemmoraging to death on the
side of the highway
staring up into
that celestial witness
there was only one tiny
blip of light
too close to the city to
see any others
but he stared at that small
little light and saw salvation
in it's beady, off-white eye
'oh god oh god' he wailed
'save me if you ever saved
any of us'
and I stood there
careful to not ruin
my shoes in
the blood
and the police
arrived and the
emergency services
arrived and
all these other
lights crowded
and competed for
the vision of
this man
pumping hemoglobin
onto the concrete
but he stared into the eye
of god and he felt
destined for salvation
he felt peace amongst
the cold pavement and
white double lines that
held his scattered corpse
he died knowing where
he was going
and as his innards
got cold on the median
of southbound I-76
the American Airlines nonstop
from Atlanta got ready
for it's final descent
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
Wriggling infantile amoeba…
barely a bacterium,
adheres biomechanically
to passing hemoglobin,
introducing alien elements
and corrupting the hosts purity…
experiment completes
within 6 generational spans
and man stands –
foreign bodies infiltrate
meteor dust inhaled
joins broken genes
and imposes slight variations
on the double helix…
possibility explosion
exploiting the environment
granting the upright ape
voice and reason –
volcanic ash and the passing of Venus
universal suffering and pain
misshapen faces contort
gobbling petroleum based mana
from the nearby fauna
bottle-neck and inbreeding
nothing to feed on but the flesh of those past
5000 homo-sapiens
give rise to 7 billion lunatics
roaming lost and ********
on a little blue marble—
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC