Best Bleeders Poems
G20-Blue
At the G20 meeting, many nations steps they trod,
where the Abbot in his Budgies, tried to fight the Putin sod,
oh it came down to leaders, now to fight a war for us,
no casualties no bleeders, just the fisticuffs and stuff,
{ideal war let the leaders do it}
the new age brought a war change, it was just a man on man,
and the victor won the battle, and the boundaries changed again,
Putin with a drop-kick, caught ole Abbot by the ear,
and he would have bit it off, but the dandruff tasted *****,
cos he said it needed salt?
so they frolicked and they tussled till the Abbot got a chop,
and he sent it to the kitchen, needed onions on the top?
Putin was disgusting when he got the Christmas holt,
and the budgie smugglers cringed, did his testes bloody moult?
But Abbot whispered in his ear,
and took it up a gear,
Pissle whipped the Rusky dolt,
who had given up his holdt,
cos he said he wasn't *****,
just a Russian farm boy colt,
Abbot he did sneer at the Billy Stinker Goat,
and they sat there sucking beer,
till the lights were dim with bloat,
: return we will at daylight,
when the rooster crows his note,
to fight another day,
a winner yet, unquote?
Don Johnson
Politics what does it stands for?
Is it a bunch of idiots trying to get votes door to door?
No it’s really many parasites
Abusing my human rights
By spending my tax to fund an Afghanistan civil war
They call themselves leaders
In fact they are income tax bleeders
Like lambs to the slaughter
They sure to tax the water
So they can benefit from the tax relievers
*Leader or Follower contest*
Who would’ve Thought,
After being impaled by the spear of a lost love,
I’d still stagger on through life’s emergency doors
Though desperate for a heart thrombectomy
Paging Dr. Burke to perform mitral valve replacement,
With nothing but exit wounds & severed limbs
Who would’ve Fathomed,
After being shot by the 9mm of lost hope,
I’d still fight through those steel gates of survival
Though nurses screamed “GSW to the head!”
Paging Dr. McDreamy to attend to that ballistic chasm,
Still I made it past those exit wounds & severed limbs
Who would’ve Heeded,
After being sliced open by a 10 blade of deceit,
I’d still march forward towards the victor’s village
Though on the verge of bleeding out love
Paging ‘The Nazi’ to retract and source these bleeders,
I sailed through those sore exit wounds & severed limbs
Who would’ve Comprehended,
After being dismembered by a bone saw of hatred,
I’d still love thy enemies as He commanded me
Though lying comatose like an array of cadavers
Paging Dr. Torres to re-attach these limbs with love,
Love indeed conquered those exit wounds & severed limbs
Who would’ve Believed,
After all the anguish, pain, tears, blood and sweat,
I’d still kneel before His Glorious Throne praying for you
Though we are still to meet I fervently pray still
That you will be enough for me and I for you,
That I will be bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh
That we will carry each other in our spirits for eternity
A love that knows no bounds,
Flows in and out of time,
That Shakespeare kind of love,
All for the Glory of our Jehovah Rapha
The Lord who truly healed those exit wounds & severed limbs
You’ve got a key in your pocket, black salt in your hair. Smoke in your whispers, and rust in your stare. Tears run down your cheeks and your gaze goes cold. Face facts lil’ mama, we’re all ganna’ grow old. Left hands’ reaching for a heart of stone. Don’t you know as above, so below.
I’ve read your palms, a tempest ruin most foul.
Crows ganna know, and wolves ganna howl.
The sword and the serpent, the ways of old. Stretch the flesh and visions told.
Imprisoned in heaven’s skeleton, these ghastly visions keep me awake.
2x Cut your teeth on surgical steel. In the dark nothing seems real. Can’t shake the nightmares out of your bones.
Prayers unfold from my finger tips and ashes fall to the soil.
The bleeders and believers, it’s An acquired taste
Crows ganna know, and wolves ganna howl.
Jesus ganna weep, when this man’s on the prowl.
Step outside your circle.
Lost in oblivion. Step outside your circle, let the spirit take hold.
"I feel you in my glands, echoes in my spine. Whose dream am I procuring, is it yours...is it mine? There's devils in the chimney, whispers down the hall. Eyes are getting heavy for the sand man comes to call. Rest weary brow, and slumber divine. We'll dance upon moon beems,... beyond human design."- P.C.
from all identical to nothing identical
many exceptions to no exceptions
eventually deduced from the above
all deductions being eventual
that to have a spirit there must be suffering
now for the latest in strong arm technology
The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates
that 13,013 food industry workers lost limbs
or other body parts in 2002 or was that 1001 ha ha
could make the butcher into a holy man
a 19th century ideology will do that to you
what this nation needs for butt certain
is a political high colonic with legs akimbo
he was from a long line of puzzle junkies
the trailer trash intelligentsia
bleeders dwarfs and lap dance assassins
in from the cold but still shivering
his autonomous mind shallow in a good way
no you’re right that is not possible
his recliner chair was his best friend
growing old and senile and blind
sitting for hours in the back yard
thistle weeds growing up around his car seat
the sun finally warmed his wondering body
and chrome towing ball head
run off the road from self examination
wailing an alert outward in all directions
setting fire to news vans pissing on reporters
for keeping us blind and stupid
the only thing not hypothetical is right now
where they murder their own truth seekers
because the truth belongs to no one
yah they killed a lot of angels to get here
sure as the jitney starts and stops
but since the struggle is no longer for survival
that should tell you something
existence is apparently making a point
it's a tin can with a wire handle
God has mocked you a thousand times
well ding dong mock him back
and attain your victory through semiotics
you know the imperial rhetorical
more missing teeth every time
seeing two objects because you got two eyes
will work the hourglass to a standstill
his bruised face was a horrifying presence
basically I did it to make myself laugh
utilizing the latest Child of Defiance plug in
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
World Bleeders
Casualty enter-fear soldier worn ear,
caught and cooked way out of town.
Prisoner of War a country ignores,
Mega Powers made up rodeo clowns.
War not cold, espionage is sold,
sworn secrecy Mr. Agent Both Sides.
Difference solved, one country dissolved,
chemical candy stocked 10 miles wide.
Gripped in terror, so Holy Scared,
nations join in search of The Man.
In the midst of it all another must fall,
the ignorant tactics of Mr. Uncle Sam...
bmdavey@
02/28/2016
Once more a wish upon Halloween night,
Made dark’s desperate insidious tone;
Howls of redemption carved razorblade tight
Gash chills in bleeders hoped soon slit their own;
As grease choking cast-iron post-boil gels,
Effluent spirits drift solidified,
When comes each year what turns whispers to yells,
Echoing drums on the day beaten died;
Too near remembered refused be forgot,
Scenes filled strewn costumes where ecstasy floats,
Favors giv’n parties aft’ we tied the knot,
Shrieking shrill pleasure through treacherous throats;
Shattered by two wearing cruel D.N.A.,
Spiraling staircased t’wards judgmental eyes,
Rather than laughter I’d have final say,
So slaughtered as mine all twirling in lies;
And now I pray haunted wishing for hell,
Fifty years fixed promised more to accrue,
Entrapped the church where my innocence fell,
When at a dance I came looking for you.
10/12/16
I am a star seeder…
Emotional healer of heart bleeders…
Value, unity and concentration I teach…
Assisting my dear ones with inner minds thought speech…
Observation, imagination and manifestation done from love’s truth…
Catapults one consciousness beyond feared sleuths…
Master emotion making reason based decisions…
Focusing will on your life’s grandest visions…
Knowing your self is meeting your savior…
Naturally we will display goodness behavior…
I am a star seeder…
Lustful silly dying pleads mistakes
Heralded lying deeds unforgotten bleeds
Passion misplaced heartaches reversed
Diamonds’ faded shines tossed ashore
Rumors, subside trusted missions disgraceful
Allies uttered passion siblings’ chatting
Moonlight madness captured blissfulness
Insuperable numbers unfolded lies indentations
Riverside linked markings social interventions
False accumulations revised taunted hunted
Musical themes engaged tearful dreams
Detected numbers fashionable Jewels
Heartless mentors size-able games
Bleeders’ feeders’ unhandy kindly manor
Unmatchable rimes utter fence-less
Distressed allusions undressed notable
Honors misfits twisted risked dilution’s
Defenseless dilutions endless dusk
Birds move in synchronized harmony, no wasted motion. Truly a original ballet in the air. No worry or care. Priorities are gathering food, raising healthy young, and building and maintaining a nest.Unlike Man, who can’t let go of the rest. Wouldn’t be nice, if man could mimic nature, all races and colors comfortable gathering at the same feeder. Instead of decades old conflicts causing countless bleeders. In the air above downtown concrete, desert sands, mountains, and seas, birds frolic and play,for all to see. To bad we can’t tune in to the rhythm they hear, we can see but choose to turn a deaf ear. The rhythm is broadcast all night and day, played on the real instruments, not the electronic kind, by Mother Nature’s rock band. Why can’t we hear it, and dance to it our own way, walking in the same direction, not farther away.
Some ride coffins
Black and slick
Completely round
The best of linen interior
For when your inbound
Four feet laid under the ground.
Some swim in tears
Blue tinted, salty, and clear
Drowning their cheers
Pain always living in it
Public with their lament
Swollen eyes become slits.
Some hide from fears
Pressure stifling abilities
Alien to feelings of tranquility
Melting into the woodworks
Like lost tribes of gloom
Dead flowers which will never bloom.
Some are searchers
Seeking out the wretches
Desperately taking accolades
Like bones being tossed
To rabid slobbering dogs
Selfishly wanting their own applause.
Some are procreators
Breeders of hate
Tearing the wombs
Bleeders of hearts
Butchers of gentleness they filet
Lost souls for the ones who disobey.
Some take things farther
Openers of closed doors
Never sitting still
Builders strengthening others wills
Unselfishly bringing new beginnings
To those of the nonliving.
Some we never knew
Like aimless doves flying
Wrinkling moments in time
With upside down smiles
Painted onto canvasses
Of blank faces…
Call them human,call them bleeders
Life's less fortunate to live
Power rage a nation,a soul's depths
Life's Blood War,game of survival
Battle eats our being
Drugs, sinfulness,our weakness it feeds
Darkness devour which lights the world
Stained blood of a cross hung
Stained soul of a life being
A everyday fight blood runs
Like a dream, never ending war
A struggle of real being,soul being
Blood War spilled in numbers
Suicide,a bullet flys, another dies
Even good that mean no harm
They fall victim even to life
Sorrow emotions,weak minds
We bleed trusting in ourselves
Believing in a world of existing
Only know we die inside
But it is us that kills ourselves
Life's Blood War, strong with power
Quiet is he that is lifted from his grave
But dead is he who haveth no life
For his grave already dug
It’s a joke to be woke
You silly bloke
You’re listening to vile folk
Blinding you with political smoke
Dousing your brain
In a putrid soak
Of the evil, daft and deranged
Feeding you lunacy
Of the mundane
Its quite comical
And really insane
To believe it
All to be true
Question it not
Says the elite few
Make sure to tune in
For more mayhem
And acceptable sin
This is a fight you cannot win
Just accept the program
My has been
We have you and your kin
As we toss your morals in a bin
And serve you a morbid din din
Of s*** that makes no sense
While trying to erase
Your programming’s past tense
And insert the new
Wicked woke ways
To break down your defense
Of knowing wrong from right
To block your sight
From the light
To curtail your will to fight
To destroy your mental might
And supplement it
With a revolting blight
Of disgusting attitudes
Paying the ghastly
Platitudes of cliché
While celebrating it as a new way
For the progressive decay
To tell a lie long enough
Will begin to produce fluff
and spread like a plague
infecting the mindless and the vague
who never bother to question at all
and simply sink to their knees
in an obedient fall
and listen to the call
of the demon’s song
repeating the lyrics
they know to be wrong
evil knows its audience well
they are the salesmen of hell
they know how to quell
your objection
to the infection
from which you swell
and revive you from where you fell
away from reality and logic
it’s why you were picked
why you were licked
as a delicious treat
you were always someone
who could be beat
into submission
for this horrific mission
of not questioning your leaders
but being cerebral bleeders
spewing on cue
what the elite few
tell you to say
you’re the robot
for the day
paving the way
for the wicked to play
But I pray
For it all to end
So, we can all mend
My heart for humanity
I lend
My will against evil
Will never bend
End transmission
Eric (and sometimes not)
So many gaps are getting bigger by the day,
The gap between the rich and those that are not rich,
The gap between the famous and the infamous,
The gap between the generous and the not so generous,
The gap between the closed mouth and the open mouth,
The gap between the tree huger and the developer,
The gap between the lover and the hater,
The gap between the buyer and the seller,
The gap between the optimist and the pessimist,
The gap between the helper and the shouter,
The gap between the soother and the shooter,
The gap between the honest and the dishonest,
The gap between the renter and those below the renter,
The gap between the media and the reader,
The gap between the leaders and the bleeders,
The gap between the real and the unreal,
The gap between the inventor and those who say what for,
The gap between those with power and those without power,
The gap between the grateful and the ungrateful,
Are all very worrying,
Without adding the gaps that we continue to be inventing.
But the gap we should be really worried about,
Is the gap between thinking and doing?
In a world that is dying,
To see more doing,
And less thinking about doing.
Mother was away, plucking hens
So I got my mead, in the special hip flask
Sat by the fence, just by the green
Time slipped along, Ken joined me there
And the day was bottle blue
And the trees were nettle green
Over by the wood, the foxgloves grew
All spread about, with flagpoles new
Broad drooping leaves, with spikes atop
Each set of flowers, like purple gloves
Men calling out, across the fields
A simple spell of happy needs
Gis a light! You got the hoe?
Wos for lunch? I love her so
Ken nudged my arm, I took the flask
Poured out the mead, a thimble size
The blackbirds played a cheerful tune
We drank the mead and felt so good
And we heard the wagon wheels
As the driver crossed the field
Another drop’s a good idea
I filled Ken’s glass, I filled mine too
I rubbed my mouth, I looked across
From a hidden den, came two fox cubs
They gambolled on, they rolled around
They wrestled long, chewed buttercups
The bees were fat
Don’t know how they flew
The foxes tried to eat them too
With a swipe of a paw
A snap of a jaw
Then the bees buggered off
And the cubs carried on
Oh, that mead, sitting in a field
Ken and me, in a reverie
Then I tucked my belly in
Had a little squint
Drank another glass
Then I said to Ken
Is it me
Or are those little bleeders
Wearing foxgloves?
And then Ken had a little squint
And he said to me
Gis another glass
Then he scratched his ****
And he said to me
I bet you a hundred quid
His little mate wins
Now the cubs
Both wearing gloves
Of silky cups
With little yellow tongues
Silly pollen pups
Having a bit of fun
Boxing in the field
Good job I won
Cos my mum, come running out
Chasing a mother fox
With a hen in its mouth
I said, oh mum
Don’t worry none
I’ve just won a ton
Fox cubs box love.