Best Blood And Guts Poems
Darkness Where Now Poe And Raven Reside,
(Part Two)
Song over, Poe told demon band to leave
And then pointed to the now empty stage
Wretched souls, look as thy lost spirit grieves
I present this new contest- all the rage
Blood and gore will flame your dark desires
Giving some respite from thy crying pleas
In dire conflict, comes death and fire
No weak romance, on love, birds and the bees
Suddenly cast there a hero alive!
In scant armor and flesh soaked in red blood
How this mere mortal had fought to survive
His legs covered in fresh, battlefield mud
Slow to rise, but so defiantly proud
His eyes gleaming with courage Heaven sent
Then yet another crash so very loud
From lightning, its power blasted and spent.
From that flash came a monstrous beast so great
With power from fangs and dagger-like claws
Dragon of massive scale, thick armor plate
Able to spew fire from massive jaws
At first glance it sighted the hero there
Bellowing out with its accursed breath
From thy flesh my claws will now rip and tear
Until that mortal body meets thy death.
Alas! Thy foul breath has no greater foe
Its effects are horrendous unto me...
Yet there is more than even you beast know-
Stronger are roots from my ancestral tree
Send forth thy evil, hottest flaming blast
As my great shield in its glory holds true
Thy fate, thy end has now came at long last
This brighter new dawn, shall be your end too!
Master Poe laughed with his booming voice
Stepping back, giving their battle more room
Announcing this is my gift, my first choice
Entertaining you, pleasure seeing sweet doom
This hero, with mercy I gave his shield
And his scant armor to give him a chance
Battling to the death, neither can yield
Here comes blood and guts, no feeble romance!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-30-2019
Dark Rhymes, ( As Raven And Poe Both Survive Below )
Part Two... Part Three to be written soon.
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Total # Syllables:400
Total # Words:306
‘Hey stomach,’ says anus,
‘Would you cut the crap.’
“It’s not me,’ stomach says;
‘I won’t take the wrap.
It’s what they’re eating,
So blame teeth and mouth.
I’m innocent,’ says stomach,
‘For that filth down south.’
Brain has a good laugh
At organ expenses,
By prodding infighting
Over false offenses.
‘Are you kidding me,
You two dumb kidneys.
Always a teamed pair
For a fight that’s not fair!’
Roared livid liver
Who was hardly pleased,
That they blamed him
For the smelly feces.
‘Oh stop it now, liver
Just sit there and filter.
We said no such thing;
Don’t get out of kilter.’
‘Tee-he-he,’ laughs brain.
My plan’s working well,
To keep each organ
At odds over a smell,
That they have no power
To change or repair,
And since they can’t think
They’ll stay unaware.’
Hands and mouth kept
Eating junk by the hour.
Having been brainwashed,
They blindly devour.
Long ago brain trained eyes
To focus on the news,
Now it was time for all
Parts, to pay ‘their’ dues.
Bones pipe up, and say,
‘Something doesn’t feel right,
Hey muscles loosen up;
Why do you squeeze so tight?’
Muscles answer and say,
‘Colon and intestines
Are the guilty squeezers,
Causing congestion.
I’m just doing my part
At the request of the brain.’
‘But muscles,’ says bones,
‘It’s causing me pain.’
And after a while
Brain has all body parts,
At odds with themselves;
Over endless bad farts.
Organs, blood, and guts
Could not get along;
They once did their jobs
Keeping the body strong.
But brain has the answer,
‘Let’s vote on what to do.
Either I run the show,
Or you deal with bad poo!’
Yes, brain got them quibbling
And each held a grudge.
All based on false info
That made brain, ‘King Judge’.
So each part gave in
To that sneaky design,
And waited for orders
From brain to assign.
But brain was a liar
And steered organs wrong.
The body collapsed;
It didn’t take long.
Just like brain, most statesmen,
Fool us like we’re tarts.
Let’s not die for their lies,
But stay whole, not apart.
Clouds weep sending down vapour to mother earth
trying to quench the fires of self destruction
beheld, time lost to a cruel master
igniting lines, fused in delusion
Dreams cast forth in fervent storms
ideals left, now an uncontrollable rage
mountains moved, flattened by stupidity
rivers ruined, overflown with blood and guts
Tonight the lonely wolf howls at an empty moon
a barren heart, tossed with a lust for greed
beating down a trodden path, barely holding on
where serpents slip on up through the grass
Lay down the swords of battles gone awry
Arise with the sparrows or alone we shall die
Penned November 9 2016
The duality of a man?
the inner beast of the outer man,
aeons ago were quite unplanned,
the spirit surfer entered a beast,
took control and enjoyed the feast,
when it killed some beast of prey,
many friends of the surfer type,
enraptured with their planet flights ,
by thought they travelled through,
in an instant they were due,
on Mars they'd spend a night,
doing things that spirits do,
taking over bodies, right,
spring into a body a Mastadon ,
to hump a female or fight was wrong?
To alter the path of the beast they drew,
Alligator or Kangaroo,
possession, was too strong?
On Earth they entered many beasts,
some with feathers, with tails, 4 feet,
stayed till it died at least,
and changed it's evelution,
though alters matter see it change,
the picture in you brain arrange,
the power of thought,
escapes the few,
old ways were, of this they knew,
creation this was brought,
a doubt will get you ought,
the narrow minded too,:}
the animal host has the instinct to kill,
anger bypasses, the spirit chilled,
blood and guts sumarrily spilled,
beast reflex is in action,
no spirit satisfaction,
this horror it aint willed,
the duality of a man?
Don Johnson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77BDitquiZU
Read Edgar Cayce on the origins of man…
Possibly it explains why man is a predator, a murderer.
Given his animal body inhabitedv by a dubious controller spirit form,
Which is stronger during anger or passion, spirit or beast???
Re: The Spirit Animal combination.
The predator animal some humans descend from in the body type will kill in passion or anger or for fun?
The spirit in the body tries to stop this happening as it the spirit knows it will have to return to a lower worse level in little Hell Earth, to suffer for the spirit weakness in controlling the animal lust in the adopted beast, man. So the strong moral spirit subjugates the
normal tempered beast with some difficulty, but the caged beast waits to pounce on its prey.
Hence a possible murderer waits his chance to overpower the weakling spirit, to do his instinct thing of the animal world quite naturally?
Don Johnson
Whenever it seems that peace may break out,
Sabres start rattling, and brave leaders shout:
“Are you talkin' to me?” “Are you talkin’ to me?”
And the sh!t hits the fan, so we all can stay free.
God, for sure, is on our side,
Where the brave and free reside.
As long as we keep sayin' our prayers,
He ain't never gonna be on theirs.
And always are small arms okay.
Never mind who's caught in harm's way.
Everybody's got the right to buy and bear 'em.
If folks toughen up, it ain't a-gonna scare 'em.
So we got us one or two nuts,
Spillin' a bit of blood and guts,
Praise the Lord, and pass the ammo.
Dress the people all in camo.
If you're a-wantin' to get to Paradise,
You gotta be a-flauntin’ the merchandise.
Semi or fully automatic,
Whichever makes you most dramatic.
Armour piercin' and hollow point,
Whatever helps you clear the joint.
Launchers of grenade and rocket.
Get your favourite – load and lock it.
On our show, they're droppin' the curtain.
Snowflake liberals are makin' certain.
So we might as well go out a-blastin'
Leave an impression, forever lastin'.
What is Peace
Peace is not the product of terror or fear.
Peace is not the silence of cemeteries.
Peace is not the silent result of violent repression.
Peace is the generous,
tranquil contribution of all to the good of all.
Peace is dynamism.
Peace is generosity.
It is right and it is duty.
However, sometimes it take
blood and guts,
sorrow,
soul searching,
chastising,
even war,
to achieve
what is peace.
Lieutenant General Georgie Patton also known as "Old Blood and Guts"
Was so eccentric and egotistical that many people thought him nuts!
His armored divisions delivered relief to the beleaguered at Bastogne,
But to hear him tell it, you'da thunk the SOB had done it alone!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Warm Heart Warm Hands
Evening fell with blizzard snow along the lake
It had turned to a thick smooth sheet of ice
Shades of gray black set in with the twilight
Ghost images of swirling snow
Changing forms and shapes over the frozen surface
Vanished and came to life again as I approached
I have been lost for hours walking aimlessly in the shadows
Of tall pines and blinding drifts
To emerge from there to here, no hope in sight
Then, through the obstructing snow, danger approached
A large gray wolf moved with conviction in my direction
In erratic movements left and right it stalked
Trying to hide between each snowflake to attack
Sizing me up as a meal or snack
The beast launched itself at me
Hysterical red eyes, dagger large fierce teeth
Demon growls exploded from deep within the beast
Sounding from a long history of savage lineage
To intimidate and frighten me
As it lunged full force to seize my neck
The long gun was at the ready
Fingers nearly frozen to the trigger
I fired the death shot to the brain
The sound roared through the valley
Quickly, I drew my hunting knife
Slit its belly clean open
Plunged both my frozen hands into the beast
To feel the hot wet flesh and organs of the creature
Blood and heart stopped pulsing but served their purpose
I could feel tingling in my fingers, so
Frost bite had been averted
I stayed the night side by side with the animal
Warm heart warm hands till morn
Sun burnt open on a new day
And with it this spectacle
Blood and guts
Some surreal survival
As I wrapped my bloodied hands in the green scarf
Marched in the direction of a glow
Coming over a snow covered landscape
Altered by the drifts
Still lost with a long way to go
A poem by John Nesbitt © 22.11.2013
I was eighteen years old and wanting to fight
I found what I looked for, in bars late at night
I took on the big guys, the small ones as well
They were all tough, as far as I could tell
-
As a jobless young man, proud of my country
I joined up with the army and trained how not to be
They told me I’d fight to keep us all free
So that we’d never have to bend the knee
They trained me in weapons, unarmed combat too
The use of explosives and what they could do
And how to take cover behind rocks and trees
They taught me to find bombs and those I E D’s
-
So step up to the plate boys, start waving the flag
We’ll be all draped with medals when it’s all in the bag
Think of the glory, this conflict will bring
A few months away, then we can all sing
-
On my very first mission, I was told to unwind
I took lead position, when searching for mines
The blast threw me up twenty feet in the air
I couldn’t feel my feet for they were no longer there
My right arm was shattered my left fingers gone
I once had two ears but now only one
I thought I was dying, I couldn’t hear a thing
I wasn’t thinking of the medals or being dressed up with bling
-
Now all I can do is sit here on the floor
and wonder what it all had been for
my comrades call around from time to time
I can see their discomfort when they’re thinking of mine
They wouldn’t trade places, no matter what for
They each have their memories, of that terrible war
My fighting days over, no more blood and guts
So I’ll settle right down in my terrible rut
-
I stepped up to the plate boys and I waved the flag
But I’m not draped in medals and it’s not in the bag
I thought of the glory the conflict would bring
No legs, no fingers and in no mood to sing
-
Things soon will be over in Afghanistan
Talks are on-going with the Taliban
We struggled against them for thirteen hard years
But all we produced was billions of tears
Fathers lost sons and Mothers lost child
business got rich, there were deals on the side
Where’s the next country they’ll start a new war
Persia?
Korea?
Let’s hope….. it’s…. not ….yours
The most dangerous critter is the lowly mosquito
They spread nasty germs round the world, mes amigos
Need to squish them flat
With a swat and a splat
Watch for blood and guts all over your chemise-o
© Jack Ellison 2015
Tour de France
He suffered injury
A serious affair
Out of first
And into intensive care
They sliced and they sewed
He was Hercules so he rose
Above the blood and guts
He survived surgeries woes
He was a gladiator and fighter
He was built of stuff that made him mightier
Than any evil cyclist could ever toss his way
His wheels were faster, he’s here to stay
So now he’s up and back in the race
On his wheels you shall see his human grace
As he steps up to the podium
And rightfully assumes his first place
How lovely are his cheeks, so soft and plush
like fluffy clouds against a moonlit dream.
Graceful are his whiskers like a paintbrush,
tracing our ankles like a flowing stream.
As king of the jungle, his razor claws
subdue small creatures like a mighty sword.
Pouncing on enemies, with brawny paws,
warm blood and guts are his playful reward.
Shiny and watchful are his marble eyes,
and with perky ears he listens to me.
I ask a question. "Meow," he replies,
and lifts his chin in a meaningful plea.
Though shaped like a liger, he's very tame.
My cat is my Muse, and that is his name.
May 2022
Co-written with my son for school
Fearless Soldiers
Blood and guts fly all around.
Everywhere death screams its sound.
Fearless soldiers still abound.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 26, 2010
Poetic form: Englyn
Poetic Form: Englyn Milwr (The Soldier’s Englyn) REFERENCES follow:
http://blogs.warwick.ac.uk/zoebrigley/entry/the_measures_of_1/
http://jpicforum.info/types-of-poetry/englyn-milwr-680.html
Lines: 3; Syllable count per line: 7,7,7; Rhyme pattern: A,A,A
There is a man that I am aware of, who delights
In our 'old blood and guts' he says he'll fly that
Flag forever.!!! Now some may well think him nuts.'
Yet he quotes about lines of lin-iage and of an
Australian commonwealth law, of treaty called
For and ratified in Versallies 'is this all for sure?' He
Speaks of God king and country, of indissolluble
Rights.? And that we have a freedom to bear arms (indeed to fight) in our countrys protection, for our own lives..And those of familiy and friends ( now are we all kings in our country? If this is right lets get on the mend)
Is this what he is 'speaking today?' Is he right and
Sincere.? Should we lend him our ears.? Are there
Gems in the claims he portrays? Should we all raise (the duster) that is also called the 'blood and guts' that has seen us often to victory.' Is that
All it takes as such.? What if a tbousand law savvy? 'i am talking now credible folk' gave him some room, and consultation? To try his claims now.' To see.' will this all hold up? for there may well be truth in the bloke.?
As His Young Fan Stood, Terror In His Heart
Coming home from war a different man
his only son, by far his biggest fan.
Yet horror of war deaths in his mind dwell
death of his brothers, war's mad, raging hell!
Blood and guts in war's horrific display
screams in dying, as they began to pray.
Helpless to save brothers, his dearest friends
brought violent seizures, gut wrenching bends.
As his young fan stood, terror in his heart
nothing helped, no wisdom could he impart.
One more victim of war stood there in fear
afraid that his father's death had drawn near.
With God's love and grace he said, "Son, please pray
for the blessing that you'll not face war someday."
Robert J. Lindley, 10-16-2017
Sonnet, (War Horrors And Its Aftermaths)