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Best Bad Blood Poems | Poetry

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Family tie-family die-Family love-bad blood by JY, T.I.R.O.
BAD BLOOD by Strauss, Lei
BAD BLOOD Monsieur L'Vampyre by Bdosa, Vee
Bad Blood by Vitale, Mario
Bad Blood by Reilly, Louise
Bad Blood by Calvanese Jr., Peter
Bad Blood by Helt, Patricia

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The Best Bad Blood Poems

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Redneck Santa

T'were the night after Christmas, 'n' the house was all dark.
Not much money for 'lectric in the ol' trailer park.
Ma waitin' tables at the club on the base,
jist me and my sisters alone in the place.

A big ol' blue norther, t'were a hard winter storm.
We's all snuggled up close, jist tryin' ta stay warm.
The trailer's as cold as a well digger's ***,
cause they come out that mornin' and turnt off the gas.

I shore kinda hated to git out of that bed,
but ol' Mother Nature made me git up, instead.
I'd gotta go out if I wanted a leak,
'cause the toilet had bin all plugged up fer a week.

Outside it 'peered warmer, which was a suprise.
As I peed on the tree, sumpin lit up the skies.
Them lights shined down on the yard, and I froze.
Shore prayed it warn't one of them weird UFO's.

As I stood thar turnin' round and around
there was white stuff fallin' and coatin' the ground.
I grabbed a big buncha it up in my mitts.
I thought it was snow, but turnt out it were grits.

I heared a big motor runnin' up overhead
and down come a monster truck painted all red.
It bounced on the front 'n' bounced on the back,
then the driver clumb down 'n' grabbed a tow sack.

He was white-haired 'n' husky, with red overalls,
long ZZ Top whiskers 'n' blood-shot eyeballs.
A red John Deere work cap was perched on his nut
and a WalMart white T-shirt half-covered his gut.

He look like he just come off'n the farm,
'cept fer them tattoos of elves on his arm.
As I stood around there jist like a complete dick,
he says, “Boy ain't you gonna say crap to St. Nick?”

“Yes siree Bob”, says I, “I got sumpin to say.
I'd shore like ta know where you was yesterday.
The toilet's stopped up and we's all out of heat,
ain't got no money and they's nuthin' to eat.”

“I was fixin' ta make it on time”, he then said.
He look kinda sheepish, and hung down his head.
“But I stopped at a bar when I finished my rounds.
And run inna St. Paddy at the Hare 'n' the Hounds."

"Ya know that he's the very best pal of St. Nick.
But there's none who can put 'em away like that Mick.
And the next thing ya know, we's over at Chances
Where that Tooth Fairy is doin' ten-dollar lap dances.”

“The Tooth Fairy a stripper? That done give me the chills!”
“Yessir”, says he, “Where ya think she gits all them bills?”
“Jist a minute”, I goes. “Where's the reindeer and sleigh?”
He turnt even redder, and then looked away.

“Well, we had a poker game goin', I thought I would win.
I was holdin' four aces and bet everthang in.”
There was a palpable silence, a terrible hush.
“Then that damn Easter Bunny laid down a straight flush.”

“Well, I cut cards with a redneck and won me that truck
But as for the reindeer, they was squat outta luck
They throwed a big barbeque, and cooked 'em up slow
But I must say them reindeer's good eatin', ya know?”

No Dasher, no Dancer, no Prancer and Vixen!
No Comet, no Cupid, no Donner and Blitzen!
For hung on that red-painted monster truck's nose
was eight pairs of antlers, lined up in two rows.

“Anyway, I brung vittles for you and the girls.”
And out of the sack he pulled seven skint squirrels.
“I jist bagged 'em thar in yer neighbor's back yard
Fry 'em up well, boy, with plenty of lard.”

I goes, “Them squirrels is rilly fine eatin' fer shore,
But ta git past tomorrow, we's gonna need more.”
says he,“Well, I's a bit short on cash fer today.”
And he give me six lottery numbers to play.

Then up drives my ma with bad blood in her eye
Draws out her six-shooter, jist primed to let fly.
Then lowers her arm down and commences to bawl
says, “I love you, you bastard, you tol' me you'd call!”

He says, “Boy, looks like it's not healthy to linger
Sticks his mitt out 'n' goes “Just pull on my finger.
The truck is fer you, son. I bid ya goodnight.”
And on a column of wind, he plumb riz out of sight.

I feels fevered and flushed as I stands there in awe
And I reckons this redneck St. Nick was my paw.
A voice far-off hollers, “Merry Christmas, now, y'all!
Then adds, “Don't fret none baby, jist wait fer my call!”

P.S. Them lottery numbers worked out good. We
bought a double-wide on our own lot 'n' a giant
TV and had still had lots of money left over fer
me to go to big rig truck driving school and Ma
to that there beauty college. And on top of that
a Nigerian guy is going to deposit over a million
dollars in my bank account. 

Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2013

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A Better World

A vision of humanity, a world without brutality, a beautiful fantasy, not a reality.
A vision of a world where the truth isn’t ignored and everyone is treated equal,
A world where no one is evil and people are peaceful.
A vision of a world without wars and conflicts, a world without hate,
A world with no horror, where everything is great.
A vision of a world without genocide and assassinations,
A friendly world with polite conversations.
A vision of world without jealousy, greed and corruption,
A safe world with no weapons of mass destruction.
A Vision of a world without blood spilling and constant killings,
A civilised world, one with no villains.
A vision of a world without hunger, tears and crime,
A world with plenty of food and water, a world where everything is fine.
A vision of a world without torture, torment and persecution,
A world with no natural disasters or air pollution. 
A vision of a world without people living on the streets,
An equal world where everyone eats.
A vision of a world that wasn’t so obsessed with fame and fashion,
A world where we all showed a little more love and compassion.
A vision of a world without cruelty, terrorism and bloodshed,
A world without slaves, a place where every child is fed.
A vision of a world without intimidation, alienation and exploitation,  
A world where third world countries get proper education.
A vision of a world without hatred, hostility and pain,
A world where everyone is loving, thoughtful and sane.
A vision of a world without malice, bad blood and animosity,
A world that is caring and full of generosity.
A vision of a world without abusive drunks beating their child,
A world without rage, one where everyone smiled. 
A vision of a world without savagery and madness, one without fear,
 A world where everyone is genuinely honest and sincere.
A vision of a world where no one is blind, deaf or mistreated,
A world where everything is fair and no one gets cheated.
A vision of a world without racism, cancer and AIDS,
A world where people don’t have to use guns or grenades.
But vision without action is merely a dream,
If we all came together we’d be an unstoppable team.
The past is a source of knowledge, and the future is a source of hope,
I have to think positive, that’s how I cope.

Copyright © Wes Martin | Year Posted 2017

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As I, Their Weak And Soft Human Flesh, Sat To Eat

As I, Their Weak And Soft Human Flesh, Sat To Eat

I have seen stars blown to dust, red moons rising steep
lives taken by the billions where death is a must.
Candles burnt out , before their red moon falls to sleep,
great empires destroyed, their monuments turned to rust.

I have walked blood-soaked alleys with neck bone in hand
bleached white bones crushing under my stomping feet.
Seen millions die making futile heroic last stands
as I, their soft and weak human flesh, sat to eat.

My name is Power- greed , pride, lust are my black game,
cherishing each hour my evil desires are met.
Men have called me many great and dastardly names
paid that heavy price as death wins my every bet.

So few can resist my alluring and dark charms
As my temptations brings lost souls into my arms.

R.J. Lindley,
July 25th 1977

Syllables Per Line:
12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12
Total # Syllables: 169
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 134
(edited today before posting to meet uniform 12 syllable verse count)

Old Note- From my private journal 7-25-1977...
Wrote a dark one tonight as bad blood raced through my veins
wicked the fleeting midnight hour and its agonizing flow.
In my mind, deep hatred calls for dark and bloody stains'
never will she the dark demon, this my mad urge ever know..

New Note--
A very bad time in my young life (age 23 years old, 4 months and 20 days), whiskey seemed to put me in a rare mood.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

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duck's plea

There is a fly 
in the oinkment 
Someone ate pork chops , 
the duck is in 
a plucking bad mood, 
threats of assassination 
and shooting him 
Leave me alone 
you vile monsters, 
talking of making 
curry out of duck 
dead remains 
Scrambling the eggs and allsorts, 
please anyone 
with a heart shelter me 
I am an old duck 

Going grey in the feathers, 
this all gives me such bad blood 
at my age 
We live in such a hostile world, 
I have such a good family 
They have protected me for years, 
in the sanctuary 
of beautiful hills 
Always had peace and quiet, 
no interference 
from the out side world 
Until now this carry on 

demonic snuff videos 
sent to duck , 
just wish 
they could see my little heart 
Have always been a good duck, 
wouldn't hurt anyone 
accept flies 
My little eyes 
cry tears of fear, 
my life is being threatened 
As I wipe the tears 
with my wings, 
now they are stuck 
to my sides with so much fear 

If only I could stretch my wings 
In happiness 
towards the sky, 
like in my sheltered years 
My wings always 
opened for a hug, 
why do you want me 
to have such a cruel end, 

like the pig pork chops 
Beware of the wolf 
in sheep's clothing 
My dad taught me this, 
he always made me feel 3 foot high 
Hiding in the corn, 
probing for intelligence, 
a non smoking serial killer 
Sent pictures of dead fellow ducks 
on a plate, 

had such beautiful adventures, 
planning them in my mind, 
now distorted with threats 
You opened 
a big can of worms 
Threatening the life of this duck 
Sending snuff videos 
Of duck killers , 
help me find the killers 
As they ain,t seen 
crazy duck yet

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2013

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Alice in Neverland

Cuts and bruises
Stabs and burns
Chained up and tied down
The things I want to do to you
When I see you I know I’m wrong
But I can’t help doing you bad
Still you love this love that hurts
Because you keep coming back
More pain, you want to feel the pain
And I know that you know that
Our feelings are born differently
You want to heal my deep wounds
By loving me so to speak ‘unconditionally’
Your reasons I admit to be noble
But you will still get hurt
Because that is how I know love
Twisted past of bad love and bad blood
My sweet Alice, go back to where you came from
You and I are beings from distant worlds
I’m already too deep in and so beyond saving
Road of thorns and spikes, my wounded path
Doesn’t need to be yours even if at some point they crossed
Love is love, but not all love is worth following the journey
And Alice I refuse to believe my kind of love is your destiny
But I can’t let go and I swear to chase you down if you leave
Even so you should run, run like Alice in Wonderland
Try to leave the maze of my arms 
And I hope you find your way out
Give up on me, don’t give up on you
It’s not easy doing the right thing even for love
Torn between my selfishness and good intentions
Alice, my savior, my love and my addiction
I know I’ll drive your heart away but you don’t belong in Neverland

Copyright © Shagesa Mattheeuw | Year Posted 2016

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Clarissa's Valentine Diary of Passion- serial Acrostic

February 2009

Pretty in red, her tears start to flow
All dressed up and nowhere to go
She got dumped after he had his way
Sweet revenge follows this Valentine’s Day
 Into the river his body will go
One knife, an alibi, no-one will know
Now what better day for his bad blood to flow

to be continued…..

February 2010

Proudly relieved that she didn’t get caught
Alibi solid, her story they bought
Sweet Valentines’ Day will be all she wished for
She’s found a new love, couldn’t ask for much more
Incidentally she’s hoping and praying that he
On this day will make her a new bride-to-be		
Nothing good lies ahead, if he doesn’t  agree.

to  be continued…..

February 2011

Perfect in white, this she didn’t foresee,
Alone in the church, where the devil  is he?
Standing alone in her wedding gown
Somebody whispered the groom had fled town
Into the limo so no-one would know
Once again Valentine tears start to flow
Nobody dumps her, she won’t let this go.

to  be continued….
February 2012

Payback is lurking, his receipt she found
A step behind him she’s Canada bound
She has revenge written all over her face 
Smith and Wesson, in her case
It might convince him to take her advice
Or face consequences, without thinking twice
Nasty Clarissa, will he pay the price?

to be continued……



Copyright © Liz Labadie-Reilly | Year Posted 2012

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The Open Road

On an open road through the driving rain
She drove fast and deadly like a hurricane
Sad yellow stripes in between white lines
Covered cold dead flowers and some valentines

Her baby grows and her mother cries
A painful evelution right before their eyes
She left him bleeding as the future glowed
From a dying past down the open road

She fights the lions as she curse it all
The men the drugs and the alcohol
The radio dj makes it all look good
With songs about love and of motherhood

She saw her future going down the drain
Her baby's tears feeds her growing pain
A blade in the night and the bad blood flowed
Down in the gutter on the open road

A big black bird at the top of the shelves
Judging what they all did to themselves
With fingernails growing like a raven's claw
She will never see what the big bird saw

Like the drugs of the dying like a martyr's faith
There was light in the dark but no open gate
She hunted the keys to the secret code
As she watched him fade on the open road

Copyright © Steinar Gismeroy Olafsen | Year Posted 2014

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Anger and Creativity

Another Old Piece of Writing. I was 18 when I wrote this one

Too many thoughts, I see
Frustration inspired writer’s block,
Eyes red and pulse racing
A word is heard, my mind locks,
Pencil tapping and imagination free
I am evil, I feed on hate,
My original nature is calling me
To fight it now is much too late,

My name is fear, eyes are dark
Anger flows through me like a flood,
My hand begins to write it away
As I glide through seas of bad blood,
I push out innocence and embrace loathing
My nightmares copy my breathing,
Verse after verse is brilliantly written
My creativity thrives, my soul is bleeding,

For a moment my nature is free
Briefly my darkness causes fear,
the trembling hand finishes the verse
Reminding me of goals I am near,
As anger becomes restrained again
The finished piece deserves fame,
For to be the best, I release the real me
Thus, anger and creativity are exactly the same

Copyright © Audonus Taylor | Year Posted 2011

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A real man

A real man never cries but endures!
When pains of the world rain upon him he endures!
When the sky is dark and horrific moments come, he endures!
Even on the edges of the deep dark deadly death, he endures!
Not even the reckless trembling rifles of the wars shall make him cry!
Nor the big bad blood sucking bats shall frighten him to cry.
He is the saviour of his of his own territory and 
No other man shall rule his land on his presence, never!
He is a god of his temple and a King in his royalty.

Tell me not about the weak pathetic man,
Who cries to death when impediments comes,
Whose knees quiver and rumple when the worst come
Who sold their manhood cheap with a piece of cake!
Man is no man that cries without enduring,
For endurance is what differentiates boys from man
And boys shall not stay in the same territory with man.

Copyright © Nzuzo Ncana | Year Posted 2011

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As a child I was taught to forgive
In my family hate was a bad word
I took it all in 
Sometimes forgiving too easily
Yet here I am 
Hurting more than I can say
Because in my heart is 


I was always told that hate hurts the hater
More than the one who is hated
Maybe they are right 
But what do you do when someone you love
Betrays you in so many ways 
In just one day
When they cross a line that can’t be uncrossed
Even puts your well being in jeopardy 
And the first thing you feel 
After the shock is


I was told to sleep on it and I might feel 
Different in the morning 
Morning came 
And the feeling is stronger
Not better
And as the day has passed 
I feel as if my heart is about to explode 
With all this 


I am trying so hard
To rationalize 
Turn this feeling around 
Yet for every reason to forgive 
A reason to not comes up too
The trust is all gone 
My heart feels shattered 
I feel like a fool 
For ever trying to mend 
The relationship 
We never really had
I know it isn’t the Christian thing to do
But I just don’t feel that I 
Can ever forgive her 
Not this time 
Not ever 
There is too much bad blood between us
Now there is 


By blood she is my mother
But that is where it ends
Because yesterday 
She messed with my well being
My sanity
My life 
She put me in-between a rock and a hard place
& I realized  
That as much as I have always
Wanted her to love me 
There has never been anything there
So now it is time to move on
Give up trying 
Because I just can’t bring myself to love her
All I feel is 


By: Jeanna York

Copyright © Jeanna York | Year Posted 2013

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The words you can't ignore
the ideas unexplored
the exploited weakness of an ongoing war.
dig the paint from your nails, pull the screws from it's frame
bite down on the bullet as the bad blood is drained
swim through the clouds, and don't ever come down
talk to the half that's in need of a friend.
flip your old grin, into a crooked, chipped frown
for on the callous cold floor, your level again.

the mirror distorts, and your view is estranged
the perspective you trusted, compels you to change
why is it that in such a stupor, our soul is revealed
as the senses will fade, enlightened minds rear
to educate ourselves, and strike down the order
to choose what we learn, and the knowledge thats forged.

the will for exposure, a progressing motion
that defines our respect, dignity, and devotion
devotion to the pious, selfless and righteous.
to fend off the hordes of thieves and of liars.
pull back on the throttle, and breathe in an answer
spreading benevolence through the wind, 
like a contagious cancer.

it's in these few moments, that words touch an audience
and the verity of an action, the truth of one's valor
is the symbol of resistance, and is judged by their credence
in the smoldering ring, of an engulfed company 
live the smoky remains, of authentic civility

Copyright © devin chehin | Year Posted 2013

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Life Gives Until Each Spirit Flies Away

Life Gives Until Each Spirit Flies Away
             (Letting Go )

Life gives until each spirit flies away
Every soul knows that death shall come someday
Tomorrow, stop enjoy life's blessed ride
Today, reaching deep, feel your soul inside
Inspiration flows from that sweet spirit
Not our selfish heart, God never hears it
God knows, we live for our selfish pleasures

Get that joyous happy, its your treasure
Our God- Love impossible to measure.

My pain lived in bad blood that darkly flows,
with that poison which ate away my heart,
living in darkness blind man never knows,
why life hits with such hard and heavy blows

under sad, black clouds
darkest rain will someday fall
best shield is god's truth


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

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BAD BLOOD Monsieur L'Vampyre

I should have known, her poor dear face so white
but love is love and Paris weaves its' spell
and easy came my mark, there on that night
she bared her neck, and ready, I could tell;

just as my teeth closed closely to her skin
an aching pain shot through my soul and tore
my probing mind apart, and locked my chin--
a toothache like I'd never known before!

But I can't stop! And as I cut her deep
blood rushing round my tooth and then the taste
that made me wish I'd layed within my sleep,
of nicotine that made her blood a waste.

   And then she had the nerve that dreadful night
   to ask of me, if I might have a light!
© ron wilson aka the Doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2013

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Blood in the streets

Gang wars
Gang violence
Constant carnage
Endless bloodshed

Why do they continue this
This endless bloodletting
The streets run red
Like the Nile River
But brought by steel and metal
Not by the hand of God's follower

Too many deaths,too many tears
To many peoples lives torn asunder
So man innocence has bled out
Too many put six-feet under

God please hear your son
down here in the blood soaked dirt
Why do so many of your children
seek to cost each other death and hurt

In these streets there's no mecry
In these streets there's no peace
Only one thing is here in these streets

Life Blood
Innocent blood
Bad Blood
Blood in these streets

Copyright © Harrison Fairchild | Year Posted 2010

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Surrounded by storms...they fill the sour skies
Surrounded by cyclones...they all scream chaos cries
Surrounded by sickness that brings death to the damned
Believers stay strong
We're all making our stand

Rebels soon rise like suns set to scorch
Like volcanoes of violence many true ones get torched
As they vomit their the worlds wickedest and worst
Once the last and the least now by force they are first
Like Husseins and Hitlers with stone hearts and steel hands
Believers stay strong
We're still making our stand

From battles behind to battles beyond
Our swords and our shields...they're all stained with bad blood
Marching forth mad through miles of misery
Truth still gets told in this mighty ministry
Dividing the devil as we conquer his clans
Believers stay strong
We're all making our stand

Copyright © Anthony Beesley | Year Posted 2015

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Staying Around

This free-verse was inspired by Bad Blood by Taylor Swift and Catch My Breath by Kelly Clarkson

Staying Around

I cried insane in a rush like an aborted infant 
This pain is killing me softly...I can hardly feel your heart's tune 
I have good blood in a gush of an instant 
You're dancing with the shadows of the Flames''re perfectly on beat, but it haunts me to see you go so soon

We should've fought the battle of cravings long ago
I crave your daydreaming drug...your dainty delight
We are making desire in the fire of our fury passions that are glowing by a single blow
I caved in on snowed under on's a pity that you're gone and now, I'm dealing with this envy 

Take a look into my multi-dimensional glass...the mirror of my past 
What have you done to my heart? I'm breathless...
I worked for your pleasure, but it hurts me to know that I wasn't good enough for stargazing eyes are now downcast 
It's all your fault that I'm the target of the person to blame! I'm losing progress

Solutions can be made after we go through our problematic lives
We are like busy, brilliant bees in our own personal heaven-hell hives 
I'm staying around you from now on...I'm a free-spirited fawn 
Till my High Spirits are all gone like the sunset before the dawn 

This scarlet slit cannot be happiness has ended and my love haz been hated 
By a single stitch...
Every bit of me has utter dread...I was so underrated 
By a sneaky, little snitch...

I'm sorry that I act bitchy all the time, speaking selfish crime 
Maybe, I need to learn to close my mouth 
I learned to shake off the stress from time to time all this wretched time 
Feels good to be good blood from the west, not the east, north or south 
Not that good blood from the west 
Is the best...I don't care if I'm the worstest
I can be a pest, but I can pass the test 
The test that I fail and awfully detest 

Trust turns to dust 
I cussed you out cuz you don't understand my issues of lust
I fuss over the fact that you don't mind me hurting like a ignored my call and left me on my own
I am not in the same rowdy bus as you and you should know - leave me alone! I'm a weak, delicate bone

You ruined me by slapping me in the face, leaving me with a red trace (blushing in embarrassment) 
You laughed at me and scoffed at me as if I was the living disgrace

You hit me all over the place, an unsolved case 
I'm a torn-up bootlace...a busted rose-pedal-designed vase 
I was just a waste of space all along...I was in the wrong...  
I was just that poet that failed to make a successful song 

Don't rub it in...auras fulfill the eyesight 
The failure I've become again...with my successless might
I live to let live and express,
Not to hopelessly impress...more or less...

Don't laugh at me because I'm doing this for me!!
You're like the stinging sensation of salt on a wound
I'm bound to be with you, blindfolded or not...I see...
You're bringing me down with your descending gravity...that made me feel like the sky when, in reality, I was down here on the filthy ground

Recalled the good times spent with you
I thought of you and the memories of you flood into my mind...
It's fine with me...I don't mind you putting the pressure on me too...
You tore me in shreds of shame that once embraced me; it was a part of me in childhood life... now, it's leaving me in frustrated sadness as time makes us blind...let the time of our lives unwind 

*warning: this part has a word that many would consider "inappropriate"* 

You did things behind my back...I know I have Qualities I lack 
Your jagged knife has evidence of the blood I shed on it 
You clicked with your clique and I'm not wanting you back 
When you call me a ******, it makes me feel horrible inside...that's offensive to the core - you made me feel like bull's ****, so all you say and do is bullshit 
I came in last place
First place was never meant for me
I am a hamster, trying to take pace
With my heart, I take a bow and take a seat on my joy glee 

Running on the racing track 
Of the all-seeing-eye symbolism 
I'm in a vulnerable state and in a lot not my own...I'm a lonely magazine on the store rack 
I'm caught captive in the ribcage shaped as a triangle prism 

The eye is watching me
The government is attacking me, I SEE
Hm, I was involved in the research of the illuminati 
I know I've been naughty...I go against it with godly activity 

I thought it all through 
The reasons why I'm blue
Is because I've been missing you 
I caught my breath the moment the scent of death seeped through my nostrils 
I've been paying off all-aspects-of-life bills and I've been popping pills of chills (relaxing)
Time doesn't heal all wounds unfortunately, but God comes to the rescue by giving me the spirit of His Word thrills that enlivens the soul till it kills 

My good blood runs bad
Because I'm bad boy gone good - I have food on the table, not "good in the hood" 
My mind is filled with redundants and opposites that don't attract to be exact...I'm bad to the bone and I'm sadly mad
I'm doing what I should, but still enthusiastic due to this epic writer's block moments...dilemmas drive me to the conclusion that I'm misunderstood

I goofed off way too many times already...I'm still holding on with my writing will - all without a thanks 
Tourniquets don't heal stab wounds, my darling devil...fill in the blasted blanks

Copyright © J.W. Earnings | Year Posted 2016

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River of rage

Born of a beast...made of fire and flames
In wickedness waters floods of fury sink my stage
Burning and baking my bad blood is boiling 
For my multiple crimes and sins a sad smile is spoiling
Tormented and toiling...I'm struggling to stay above
I can see the world around me
For me there is no love
Twisted like a drugs or drink can calm me
As I take another toxic trip even demons they don't scare me
Don't dare me as I dive in head first 
Now I'm drowning in the the best turns for the worst
That redrum river keeps on coming and it's calling me to stay
Now I sink straight to the bottom of that river I call rage

Copyright © Anthony Beesley | Year Posted 2015

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Bad Blood

Social injustices can affect so many

A hand to grasp to hide & hold
Set on fire to its oratory fragrance...

The streets were fought for territorial rights;
Out of negotiations with a long line of strife
The gangs outside were very mean & controlling,
Their territory was grueling etched in a barrage of discomfort....

Bad blood

Isn't it a pity that you hate the city;

With lines drawn in the sand some poles very shifty...
A novice may use quite a gentle approach;
An emotional conflict can result in fear, guilt & shame,
Guilt & shame need to be overcome by the grace of God,

Bad blood....

Throughout its beckoning call toward inevitable service,
Many years of growing up in the streets;
Phat rims & image keeping fades,
Jose was a long way off on that day...

The city kids were out for a fight that night,

With clearer heads having prevailed,
Some have often found themselves lying in a sewer;
Just waiting for another episode toward that in manuever,
Bad blood...

Jose was quick to draw his nine that day

Perhaps it was the bad blood that took him from behind ?
All alone with my silver spoon exposed to its elements;
Shadows proned to turn in the corner of my room
Fastened by the imaginations in my head

Wake up dead!

Yet in mere solace what matters most?
Like a lost seagull flying off the coast;
Try as you may the other way,
Bad blood...

Bridges are being burned having tables now being turned;
In solemn mast of rhetoric demise
Yet a word to the wise;

Bad blood,
From darkness to light yet never giving up on the fight;
A tug at the heart will light the spark to what it is we have been waiting for...

Since creation unfolds a story that's being sold

Vibrant eyes turned to gold
As in a variation of a dream sorted through its sifted after glow exposed!

Bad blood.

Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2012

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Who Listens to the Wind

Wind has wide mouth, 
Mouth like river pouring out,
Clutching with an over-bite, 
Whispering closed to our antennas. 
Who possessed secrets? Enigma 
Nothing is cloak-and-dagger.
We all have bad blood 
And breathe air thick with gossip

Matters after closed doors 
Escaped through holes in small traps; 
Walls do tittle-tattle. 
Poison the spaces and passed on; 
Smother the likes of us with idle talk.
We are much more 
Than monkeys, but we are plenty less.
Chances fled yielding conceit. 

Feed the flame. Let it sear 
Old England, like London Bridge
Burning down with our views. 
Tear down. Break off the passage
And construct walls with the ashes.
Let’s die alone while listening
To the loud mouth of wind.
Right hand lost in whispers.

What wind is voiceless 
If it stretches from the seas?

Copyright © Earle Brown | Year Posted 2011

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Bad Blood

Blue blood, red blood, royal blood, good blood...
Bad blood.

My investigations into blood,
The brifest of forays into science.
Disect the subject,
Swift, swift cuts.
You wont feel a thing.

Dripping onto the carpet,
My circumstantial scientific evidence.
Specimens and evidence,
Evidence and specimens.

Crisp dry blood,
Crack, crack with movement.
Heals over,
Just like new.

My body is a tapestry of scarred patterns.
Proof of my scientific engagements.
But for the lack of conclusions, 
I would be truely bona fide.

As much blood as I cut out,
Bad blood soon replaced it.
Its secrets perplex my inner scientist.
My inner child is scared.
My outer masochist is ready.
My scalpel is prepared.

Copyright © Louise Reilly | Year Posted 2011

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Souls of soldiers

Souls of soldiers... They keep marching on
From battles behind to battles beyond
With boots on the battlefield and one billion bullets in their brains
Obediently following their orders to stop many mudmonsters and to ice the insane
Invasions get stopped and killer Kings get killed
Sacrificing themselves...some get slaughtered and spilled
With bad blood on the bricks...they read the writing on the wall
Neverending are the names of the warriors that fall
Courage gets the call of the chosen and the few
While comfort makes corruption and cowards take their cues
Through the black and the blues they keep marching on
Through broken bones and bruises...stumbling and staggering
Through intense purple pain still they press on
Pulling the plugs on another pigs power trip
In slimy subcultures in the sewers they slip
Sacrificing their sanity...death and damage is their due
With nothing to gain and nothing left to lose
From trails of tears from yesteryears to terror tracks of tomorrow
From battles behind to battles beyond...
Souls of soldiers they keep marching on

Copyright © Anthony Beesley | Year Posted 2016

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A dark shadow was shivering,
Holding a knife with a dripping blood on right hand.
Black eyes started to see dim things,
Made her feel even better and stronger.

Multiple wounds on man’s body,
A luscious smile after taking his breath.
Felt the rush moving through her veins,
Said she’s not pretty insane.

Blood scattered everywhere.
It ran perilously on floor
As her white dress tried to cover 
The scented smell of man’s flesh in the closet.

Crows were circling at hollow black skies.
Heavy thunders were applauding her night.
Showering blood of life all over her body
Her dark ritual was filthy and mushy.

Copyright © Lei Strauss | Year Posted 2015

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To Hell

A thousand fights
A thousand breaches
I can't keep myself at bay
A thousand bites
From a thousand leeches
Won't take the bad blood away

A single black drop
For a single small sin
Seems all fairness requests to fulfill
But if I do not stop
I'll soon find within
I've no red in my blood left to spill

One sweet little lie sung
A pitiful excuse
A cancerous poison to hear
I'd stitch up my tongue
And sew up my mouth
If these tales never be brought to ear

One last indulge
One last sweet taste
Of the fruits of forbidden enjoyment
One last deluge
Of delusional haste
Of virtue's belated employment

Starving abysmal
Aching and empty
Clawing it's way to my decadent heart
Hunger for sinful
Finding there plenty
Sated on tearing my body apart

Gluttonous wanting
Eating my heart out
Never quite happy, always want more
Vainglorious taunting
Hubristically paramount
I you will cherish, I you'll adore

Envious sickness
Burns me with longing
All that you have is mine to possess
Hungering wickedness
Unchastely longing
Control of your body I'll slyly wrest

Basking in pleasure
Of slovenly laze
No more than a statue would I wish to be
The only real measure
Of happiness lays
In the objects I treasure for their bond to me

A wave of amber
Furious fire
I cannot quell the smoldering hate
I can't remember
A site so dire
As my own despicable fate

Cinders and ashes
Piteous remains
Only myself, charred, bleeding, long gone
Faint memory flashes
Infinitesimal pains
Lament a life wasted in doing what's wrong.

Copyright © Marchioness Of Mock Turtles | Year Posted 2011

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Copyright © Olufemi Oloye | Year Posted 2017

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Rumours spreading ink 
          Blots on a character,
Insidiously virus like, 
          Duplicating cells,
Touching and impregnating 
          Once lucid beliefs
With embryo taints and 
          Darker schema.
“So, that’s him, there he is
          That’s what he did, 
Let’s hear more;”
          Truth warped out of shape,
A shifting balloon of 
          Malleable bad blood,
Twisted beyond all 
          Former recognition.
Poison pen Chinese whispers 
          Uttered, scratched,
Scrawled, trickled asides, 
          Poured and decanted
Into the ears of those dupes 
          Susceptible enough and lazy enough, 
Evil enough
          To propagate the lies.
If said enough times, 
          It becomes tangible, factual,
A construct of the real world.
          Initially I trod 
Upon an ant,
          By Easter 
I killed Jesus;
          By Christmas, guess
I’ll hang for it…

Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2006