"lifeblood" poems
Life has run away from me as I play this game of chance.
One at a time you have fallen before me, you fabled soulmates.
The scars run deep, my heart crusted over with the soles of those
who have so carelessly trod on my lifeblood.
You who have made me, could you not have shown me the danger of a love untrue?
I have been chained to the players of hearts throughout all time.
You have been quiet for too long. Can you not hear my call?
Why do you keep silent in my time of need? Why do I not hear your comfort, your voice?
My soul calls out to find a love that binds with more than a gilded ring,
created from a spirit so true, intertwining with mine and becoming my own.
I’ve searched my whole life through for such a love;
one who is drawn to the life and soul of the me within.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
Somewhere
Somehow
I can’t identify when
it changed.
I saw things differently,
my eyes no longer covered
by an opaque way
of thinking.
Sunshine brightened this world
with unimagined colors,
butterflies broke free,
songbirds warbled lovely tunes.
Amidst emerging beauty
words became
every day’s lifeblood;
I found my voice.
All around me,
there was change,
yet everything remained
the same.
For it was me
that changed.
Reborn, rewired.
My heart drummed
a brand new beat.
Driven by transformation,
I wrote. I write.
Adding a dash of color.
Singing harmony
to surrounding melodies.
I am changing.
I am writing.
I am a poet.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
We are renters
Living off leased land
Never land owners
Years of finances poured into revolving doors
and recycled down into intricate designs creeping beyond the
comprehension of the reasonable woman
(or man)
Why do we fear so much the need for one another?
Desperately flattening desire into hardened emotion
We can't even breathe properly anymore
Oozing smoke and conspiracies out of our pores;
anxiety became our lifeblood
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 1:29 AM UTC
Social chaos metered out through tiers of population stung
By indiscriminate battle wrought lifeblood, incessantly, is wrung.
Why so the need for Assad’s torch, your Syria so needlessly debauched ?
Nameless causes fuel the fire, Shiite, Sunni intervention. Hezbollah and al Qaeda spew
Vindictiveness to streets of rubble, Toxic, killing vapours stew.
Misery to gasping children, horror in the dying eyes….
Condemnation points it’s staff to you, Assad, where vile blame now lies.
Why so the need for cities torched, Damascus needlessly debauched ?
Inevitably the missiles cometh, raining incandescent death and blast,
International righteousness throws intervention’s unknowns vast.
Why so this need for man debauched, Your Syria, once so beautiful, now scorched ?
Marshalg
Pukehana
7 September 2013
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC
I am the zombie of Tinkerbell
Her living corpse
Dress sparkles all faded
Tinkling like a broken bell
My fairy dust no longer brings children the gift of flight
But endows my prey with the curse of second life
That I may twice devour their
Squirming, wriggling,
Writhing, scriggiling
Flesh
Just the way I like it
With a wide dark grin across my face
Teeth stained with blood and broken into points
Eyes dim, dull, and hallowed
Skin sallow and torn by the fighters,
Who battle for their death
Combatting the loss of their dignity
I lure them in with stale illusions and sickly sweet snares
Torn wings are no match for swift feet, but I manage
Pushed onwards, pulled forwards by a need, urge
To devour, consume, and engorge myself
Again with tender meat
And imbibe upon the sharp lifeblood
Of faerie.
For I, am the zombie Tinkerbell, and I hunger.
It's dinner time...
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
The dead brown of winter gives rise to yellow cups in lacey dress,
lifting their bowed heads to take in the golden days of spring.
Mornings heralded by melodic songs calling out for spring partners
in trees filled with cascades of color and buds waiting to open.
The snow and blackness has lifted and life has begun once more.
Forgiveness has found a foothold in this crushed heart.
Like a doctor sewing wounds and stopping the drain of lifeblood,
I have found a way to heal and make it back to life once again.
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:45 AM UTC
Manila is beautiful at night,
Seen from overhead, high above rainclouds in the night sky
with a tantalizing view of car exhaust and the debris of broken dreams
Manila is beautiful at night.
It comes and goes like a shadow in flickering light.
At first, it hides behind wispy rain clouds, playful as a child hiding in his mother's skirt.
If you look closely, it's lights glisten-- golden and teasing
It's incessant winking, an almost promise of what's to come
From your aerial vantage point, you wonder:
"This is what it must be like to be an Angel when they fly"
Below the city, with all it's secrets, sprawls like a handful:
A rich lady's heirloom diamonds, thrown carelessly on a ***** floor.
It will somehow remind you of a creature: perhaps human, or Leviathan in it's wake
Cities, after all, are their own specie of living things
At first it is looks like a Brain, with neurons and synapses electric and active
Certain spots of the city: mall compelexes and large parking lots, like the nuclei of a brain cell
the roads that lead to and fro, the cars zipping up and down in red and yellow lines
remind you of dendrites and axons, stretching far
They communicate with each other in their own language; a code
Your imagination runs wild with untamed fantasy
On next glance, it looks like a heart.
The whole city pulses magnificently in unison it seems.
Thud, thud. Thud, thud. You feel it?
Your heart follows it's tantalizing rhythmic pattern, it's muscle beats
Though and through the city pumps it's lifeblood into each nook and cranny
Oh how it entices your passion so.
At last you seem to hear it breathing.
Listen closely and hear Manila inhale and exhale in steady tunes
Inhale, and exhale-- a silence comes over you,
And it's strangely reminiscent of amazement, excitement and bitter fear
Your ears dull and you listen to the rush of air in your lungs,
the deep drum bass of the pounding of your heart
the dizzying feeling that exists in your brain
Manila really is beautiful at night.
In the shroud of darkness, it rises from slumber;
Vivacious and lovely, it's seductive and free
Manila is lovely. Manila is a woman, as it should be.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
oppression reigns
from above
unseen hellfire
a fallacy
can't be seen
so it is not there?
oppression exudes
from the ground
translucent, sticky
rise up and fight!
but always stuck
sinking down while
the tar fills open mouths
oppression is ingrained
in hearts blinded
by the masses
******* the lifeblood
from freely flowing veins
oppression is a paradox
making everything
too simple, too complex
too small, too big
too easy, too hard
closing in on both sides
follow the light
at the end of expression
lest you be crushed
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
The Raven Queen came from simple country roots
No royal silver spoon did she carry
Raised by unpretentious witches holding great wisdom
Old Gertrude, Esmeralda and Tregarry
Three witches known as spiritual leaders of the valley
Of lowly peasants and abundant woods
Raised her up simply infused with a fiery spirit
Proclaiming the law of the land to be good
Two faces reigned within the leaders and peasants
One which was shown to The Law
The other kept hidden as they lowly bowed to the wind
Praising the moon and icy snow as it thawed
A tale of hidden woe these three leaders carried
Unbeknown to the Raven Queen
Of her true heritage and the tainted gold they kept
From the night Old Death intervened
Old Death quietly crept in on her birthing night
Stole her sweet mother away
Yet for a fee the wise leaders took her in to love
Knowing who she would be one day
An eager student their young queen became
Learning the wisdom of the truth
Quite an apprentice in the ways of the wind
She became early in her youth
All at once the fiercest Winter ever known to the valley
Brought in terrible winds and bitter snow
The young queen watched as the peasants trembled
As savage wolves entered their fold
Great hunger came to the valley along with Old Death
Dissension was called into play
Soon, each of the leaders knew the time had come
To teach her the dark side of their ways
She was pulled from light into the darkest shadows
To embrace her own true destiny
Her dark light shone through the woods and the valley
Bringing the savage wolves to bay
Fear of the Raven Queen’s light spread from the valley
Coursing through the veins of The Law
Sending in fierce horsemen thundering with vengeance
Her own lifeblood they came to draw
She answered their thundering with her own call
Heads for heads, raging fire with ice
Saving the ones who took her under their wings
Returning their tainted gold at a price
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 1:58 PM UTC
From freedom and serenity - forced back,
Within a heavy frame, I twist and turn.
Surrounded by darkness - sunlight lacks
Through peaceful ears, an alarm clock burns.
Feeling like someone once deceased,
I ****** myself from my tranquil sleep...
Stumbling to the kitchen, eyes half open,
I prepare my meal in a weary daze.
I will not dread today - I'm hoping,
As I race through traffic in my malaise.
Drinking in my last few moments,
I do what I must, but never condone it...
My interior seething from stress filled meetings,
These rules defeating - my lifeblood fleeting,
A blunt insanity from this calamity,
Through censored profanity, I scream "barbarity!"
Beneath the boots of automatic overlords,
We're trapped together - anxious and bored...
Our heads hang, our eyes bleed
Their talking styles belie their greed.
Our mouths move - connection we seek,
But we find our language strange and oblique.
Back home, on my couch, lethargic and pale,
Hypnotized by TV, my dreams turning stale…
A once free spirit, now a mindless drone -
My sense of identity is what they dethrone.
I assure myself, my soul will endure,
Friday at five, I’m told is the cure.
But, revolution’s muscle beats in my chest!
So, a simple existence, I imagine, my best.
This is my strife - I hate this way of life!
Words can’t explain the disdain in my veins.
So, I have no choice, but to use my voice,
To tell you all to your face, there’s no time to waste!
Everyday, I pickup my pen and face the end -
To light the fire, that from ashes, we’ll ascend...
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:58 PM UTC
at the end of it
the end of GIN
sweet botanicals!
how you fill my soul with rain and my heart with heat
a lifeblood for the courageous
drink GIN
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
This is number six of ORLOK's poems
When I see a fat smiling face
On a plump young ******
I am consumed with lust
To rip out her neck
And to **** the lifeblood
From her throbbing veins.
And then my drooling jaws
Slide down her floppy ****
Heading southwards
To where the business is at
For a further tasty mouthful
From both ends.
Finally I administer
The coup de grâce
Which is to say
Putting it bluntly
Eight inches of vampiric ****
Up the dirtbox.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
In times of clarity, or perhaps
Moments of weakness
(Depending on one's perspective)
My greatest fear, I think,
Is that of dying without achieving
Anything worthy of mention.
The idea of being so ordinary
That your death
(or rather, your life)
Will be rapidly evaporated
from the earth's memory
Like light rain on a molten tarmac afternoon.
But you, at least on a mentally strong day,
Delude yourself with bursts of creativity:
Poetry, film, ideas of grandeur,
All of which persuade you that either
You will not die for a long time,
Or you will someday soon achieve.
This thought is comforting
And all is well.
Until one day you are having
A particularly busy teaching day,
And you rush to the usual spot
To grab a regular taste of Dublin life,
And order your chicken fillet roll:
Lifeblood of an Irish working-man's lunch,
And you eat while you walk -
Both briskly to save time before
Rejoining the rich children.
And the slobbering mouthful of
Delightful chicken baguette
Casts taco sauce from its grasp,
And dribbles down your pubey beard.
You stop and take a finger to it,
Knowing full well that the damage is
Done and that those hairs will grip
To the smell of taco sauce until
The drain tastes their defeat after
A particularly overzealous shower.
And it is in that moment,
With finger and beard stained with
The orange-tinged blood of a chicken fillet roll,
That your ordinariness and worthlessness become apparent
And it destroys you...
Because you always thought taco sauce was spicy.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
--------------------
When red ran from the sand.
From the depths, rose a creature quite old.
Solemn and slow, not a care to be bold
It anchored itself, and gave no expression
The strength of its shell, shook in depressions
Tall extensions: its lifeblood, its protection.
Found scattered, on its shell, in cert’n sections.
The pride of Madagascar—the creature by name—
Are Rosewood and Ebony now mangled and maimed.
--------------------
When red ran from his hand.
Trees are felled, and the humans displace:
Lemurs are losing, they can’t find their space.
Hear the creature wail, its shell echoes with grief—
The sounds of its guests, find little relief.
For its pride is valued, and cut for a price
Hard decisions made—it is life’s device.
Wooden splinters bite back trading flesh to save flesh.
Living masses are caught in our culture’s great mesh.
---------------------
When red in hand and land.
Oceans to flood, new depths to behold
Our desires to fill, balk: “Don’t let them fold!”
She tires of our, meandering session;
Beating-out paths, to varied oppressions.
Laugh at the onslaught, of one great convection!
As humans propel, in that direction…
In all this, Gaia shrugs, naked-apes are to blame.
Fruiting, of hand and land, need-be one and the same!
---------------------
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 12:30 PM UTC
My life has become a dull, throbbing decline into decay
With every pulse the lifeblood runs thicker and thicker
It'll have to stop flowing some time...
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
Leaches and bloodsuckers all!
Parasites to our hearts and minds,
diseased by location encircling a waterhole.
I’m done with this, gone to future dreams overdue for life,
shedding years of hopeless frustration
as others wallow in their ignorance.
Sickness deepen as their pool thickens.
New life drains away
running for its existence toward light and hope.
Leaches and bloodsuckers all!
They drain us of lifeblood and energy.
One more waterhole and gene pool;
a cycle without end and death to all who stay.
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 9:27 PM UTC
Transported
by the waves of sound
so transcendentally human
I am swallowed, surrounded
The basses are an ocean swell
the tenors, a hull of solid oak.
We stand upon the altos’ sturdy deck,
gaze upwards at soprano sails
swollen with song
What strange creatures we,
to join and mingle so
to vanish in the whole.
This ritual enacted
for this God, or that
has outlived immortals and still
floods with lifeblood
Anu, Enlil, Enki, Baal,
dived divinely
in the sea of song
and vanished.
Forgotten gods adrift
in harmony, in melody
And while I wish
all gods forgotten
I would abase myself
before Jehovah’s golden toes
to be a part
of this eternal choir.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
My name is Flower of the Dark Moon; MoonFlower for short.
I have a huge heart and an whimsical soul, and I will love you.
Whoever you are, whatever class, race, or ****** orientation, i will love you
Whether you’re a saint, or a ruthless sinner,i will love you.
I see the light in the darkest of places and people.
For I am darkness myself, As I am ironically a creator of light.
We are all infinite cosmic love existing within a web of consciousness.
That infinite web is known as the universe, which is a living breathing being!
We are merely its components; atoms or cells if you will.
Since we are a part of the same web of life, then that makes me like you.
We are one and the same. My lifeblood and heritage connects directly to you,
Connects directly to the trees, the rocks, and even the planets within our solar system.
I am me, as you remain you,
however I exist in you as you exist within me.
And so, with all this known in my heart,
With all this bursting and radiating love,
how can I NOT love you? :)
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 1:30 AM UTC
I am a raging river fed by rain.
I flow hard against rocks and logs.
I flood my banks in the springtime
and I seep into valleys.
I catch leaves and seeds during the fall,
and I deposit them southward.
I drift along slowly in the winter.
I feed creeks and mountain streams
and greedy bears and hungry fisherman
and I brought the Grand Canyon down on it's knees.
I am the lifeblood of the mountain.
You can find me in the sweet nectar of the desert cactus.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 11:05 PM UTC
I would shed my skin
Leaving dust and bone by the cliffside
And bare myself to the world
Amidst the storm of lightning and thunder
I would hold lightning in my hand
And grip it tightly as it struggled and squirmed
Uncaring of the black blood soaking my hands and the ground
From its burning arches of light
Until I finally set aflame
And leave you to watch,
gripping the fabric of your sleeves
As I jump
from the precipice
to fly
And
drop
soundlessly into the sea
lost
in the roaring crescendo
of life
itself
As water had birthed life and nurtured it
One day I would emerge
Unrecognizable to your tearful eyes
But Gods aren't meant to be beautiful
And angels strike mortals with madness
And turn the impure blind
So as I return
Having been dipped into the lifeblood of our world
I spiral into the sky
"Goodbye" unable to leave your trembling lips
And tears falling unbidden
The only words I know now
"Be not afraid"
I took with me into the sky
So I leave you
With no understanding
And only the atrocity
That I had become
Dec 1, 2021
Dec 1, 2021 at 12:27 PM UTC
loathe — july 17, 2013
reëstablish the current which made being whole
no, not just in another life since fragmented whole is nothing tethered to the waist. that’s what belts are for. if you say so
monitor it like
you would anywhere
the trajectory is clear : light the torch of multi-orbed sensation
where we wait on the cusp
of the whole
perhaps in another life, we dare to suggest it. i don’t dare. if i did, i would consider myself a pigment of this pallet
i don’t breathe limited expectation
scientific claims
they’re just as good as dead to me. perhaps the whole can be related and consume our progress. there is too much to see. too little methods
methodic function isn’t perfunctory yet. a push is required. jumpstarting will only cause sparks.
i know something better
so sit down and move to the right. the light’s blocking my view and i cannot surmise unless i’m granted a complete oversight. nothing backseat, because we all know
that is reductive
paint splatters on my face
i
am
frozen
the colors reimage our complexion and erase the mistakes until we are whole
[ uncertainty is the new guarantee ]
introspection is a form by which we do so. everything we see is incomplete. our eyes need to be adjusted
to the [ uncertain ]
adore — july 29 , 2013
black blue strata pillars spruces flutes
eclectic aftermath debris snaffle pop
chute-in whelked chrome lugubrious
lifeblood : trans yes mutate pro-ohms
in timehalts wyoming woodsmoke
screened scans : rancid gemini rotors
hulks histories back - lying supine arts
( please remind me to act regimentally )
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
Narcissus in chains
Head hung in shame
Where once was beauty
Now nothing remains
No other to blame
Self-bound and tamed
The pitiful, once proud
Narcissus in chains
A flower in bloom
Eventually wilts
Bright leaves growing dim
As essence is spilt
Lifeblood grows weak
Decrepit and stained
All pretty things fade
As the earth lays claim
Broken and twisted
Like narcissus in chains
Reflected in a pool
An image shows true
Until shattered and torn
By a rock falling through
Rippling, tattering
Illusion no more
Cracked and fragmented
As one's inner core
And what's left on shore
Now forever is changed
Who made you so
Oh, narcissus in chains
Time steals beauty
And flowers, they rot
Clear pools dry up
Their waters forgot
As things fall to change
One still remains:
The pitiful, once proud
Narcissus in chains
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 1:40 AM UTC
Splintered shields and cracking swords lay all around me on these burning hills.
I stand alone, the last of my kind.
Here I stand my wings dripping red, lifeblood staining my sword and my shield but also dripping from your head.
A Valkyrie, an angel of Death
I hover over your waning Life waiting with baited breath.
The fields once green,
now stained with your brothers and sisters now fallen,
blackened with blood and ash and flesh, of friend and foe alike.
The last one left waiting to enter my halls,
you fought you won you gave it your all.
Little Warrior, little ***** if I summon,
will you finally answer my call?
As you finally lay down your head,
I shall sing you the Valkyrie's lullaby of final rest.
Brave little warrior,
I shall sing you the lullaby of Death.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 9:08 PM UTC
Dark death skirts beaches in blood red,
as coffee colored swells wash in more
carnage to the shores;
we are blindly poisoning our waters.
Toxic plumes of red tide cover the seas,
beaching whales and seals,
manatees, and fishes;
we indiscriminately **** our sea life.
The brisk breeze off the Gulf
brings the smell of rotting death
that is all around;
we are blindly killing ourselves.
Our lifeblood,
the seas and its inhabitants,
slowly slip away;
we disrespect nature.
Mother earth mourns
as we continue
to ****** its inhabitants;
we are dying.
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC