Best Bloodhounds Poems
Unblouse your breast
Where to nuzzle and warm
Areola to moisten and mouth
Urgency need, I scarce was born
Unclothe me in all unrighteousness
Sing for me no lullabye
Fetus reflection in alabaster eyes
Yours will forgive me, so softly they plead
The call in my eyes , so loving beguiled
Answers my whisper
Inaudibly you whimper
Reaching for the hearth of your home
Furthermost far, the call of the grave
But if I should die, please bury me here
We slipped passed the guards, their caution neglect
Our passion en-garde, the phallus erect
Discover a pebble in fissurely crag
Rolling in wonders and nacred in pearl
Both of us crying exhortations of love
Loving ungainly like giraffe on the run
Speaking in gibberish, talking in tongues
Becoming immortal banging the drum
Surpassing the portal the bloodhounds unleash
I Mount Vesuvius, youre so within reach
Im falling for you in tubular bells
Demolition crawls
Pots and pans all over the place
Flaming torpedos pock-mark the Earth
Harpooning the squid in ink fibrillation
Ecclectic joy in sense celebration
Two souls arriving from deep within
In baptismal breath I was born once again
The radio blasts Johnny Cash
as I leave
I step on my cigarette ash.
I got a lot on my mind
I'm looking for love that I'll never find, in this town.
Let the Illuminati
take my body
to the ground.
All my songs have the same old sound.
The police are trying to hunt me down
with bloodhounds.
I'm a fugitive
should I let you in
are you MC Ren?
or just my best friend?
I don't know
you won't show
your face
I gotta get out of this place
it won't grow
I gotta get a taste
of this pain
before I go insane.
Break a pencil
I'm sitting in this temple
look it's simple.
Give me a chance
I'm not kidding
this isn't some stupid dance.
Can I stay at your place?
I can't show my face.
I still love you
will never shove you
always will stay above you.
Always gonna burn
now I'm hurt
a couple of cuts
some gravel in my guts
always grabbing my nutts.
Love the way you lie,
cry,
try to make me real
all this anger I feel
I'm scared of death
but, that's the only thing left.
We don't die
we multiply.
So don't cry
when I leave
if you must
blow your nose in your sleeve
like a shirt
you gotta weave
just breathe in
like the hearts of lonely men
Life of sin
the last bottle of gin.
I gotta set up a plot
so I won't get shot
on this ground
where I rot
that's time I don't got.
I'll just start runnin'
when I hear em' gunnin'.
I don't wanna go back to jail
and burn in hell
sitting in that cell.
I'm glad I woke up to a smile
in my bedroom
before I blew up cocaine
in my living room
grab that broom
before we meet our doom.
It's getting near dawn
the game is on
now I'm gone.
Methinks I inadvertently got entangled
without deliberate intent, sans whirled
wide web, albeit courtesy of yours truly,
who (flattered upon at least one maybe
more'n one Prose.com subscriber click-
king regularly regarding posts this scribe
electronically broadcast) unwittingly, me
violated unspoken/unwritten breach of
considerable proportion, which singular
impetus arose spontaneously to transmit
(without said dude indulging crude, lewd,
nude... offensive faux pas), that hopefully
doth newt engender an unstoppable feud
(tantamount as if purely innocent motive
capital one offence) pseudo cryptic allusion
to female - only referenced her boat oxe
screen name took objection hinting at my
appreciation by acknowledging humorous
indirect linkedin pleasantries at appealing
to inquisitiveness about this generic garden
variety *****sapien, (he just learned how
to walk erect this morning), but much ado
about nothing, asper comedy of errors this
harmless by George run of the mill on the
floss imp pond durable bard, she (naturally
squared the circle, a laudatory feat), perhaps
concluded, aye tried iterating what appeared
as theorem (from unpublished recently disc
hovered "FAKE" testament, sans Matthew),
and of course no ambition arises to hire any
gumshoe - well worth his polyisobutylene in
chiclets will be pursued, but loose vicious
bloodhounds after this doggone muttering
ole coon holding him hostage within his oh
zone unnaturally square cage.
Port Talbot
The city of steel,
Is the place where I belong,
Under its industrial cloak and working class reel,
Where talent is abundant and steelworkers are made from steel.
The city of steel,
The place where chimneys stack high out of reach,
And golden sand river from its arms,
Where identity and pride manufacture industrial charm,
The city of steel,
With its industrial predominate core nestled by the shore,
A heart pumping its flow with pride and identity,
And natures blanket covering close guarding hills smug with beauty,
The city of steel,
It's tomorrow shackled with greed and jealousy,
Tricked by fools promise sheltering black rats,
And caught by deadly bloodhounds hunting in packs,
The city of steel,
Whose children are forged not born,
Who will never repudiate but battle what you stand,
Until the safe return of their great land.
This is my city of steel,
Our city of steel.
The Bad Priest
In Lyons (I think it was Easter, 1438),
I was a priest and somehow can recall
the dim church, the heavy clouds of frankincense
and the knights and the peasants lined up for communion.
I chanted the magic words
and did the magic gestures but
instead of the wine becoming the blood
of our Blessed Lord,
it changed into piss.
I was not ready for this.
Inside the chalice,
the reflection
of my own most hideous face -
I poured my face onto the floor and
a thousand rats writhing in a sea of worms
destroyed my last pretense of piety.
The congregation – the whores no less than
the assassins – knew that I was one of them
and could no longer hide the fact.
The stained glass windows crackled and shattered,
the church crumpled into rubble;
and we all shrieked
as the earth quaked
and God was deaf:
to the sobs of the amputees.
For the unforgivable crime of sacrilege
the ecclesiastical tribunal interrogated me
under the direction of the Bishop.
Those Dominican friars, those Domine Canes
(bloodhounds of the Lord), figured I'd sold
my soul to the adversary and when they
put me on the rack and hung me up backwards
and hammered each ankle and elbow in turn,
I saw that they must be right,
for they showed such tender concern
for the state of my soul.
I confessed but still had to be tortured again,
in order to confirm the first one.
The Dominicans wanted to burn my genitals
to get to the names of family members
who might be party to this conspiracy,
but in his mercy the Bishop forbade them.
I had to prepare myself for being burned at the stake:
There would be no merciful strangling instead.
I could pray for the grace of God,
but I knew I wouldn’t get it.
I could not even look forward to oblivion
as I regarded that yellow shirt
printed with the Devil's signs
that I'd have to wear on that
morning of shame and buckets of ****.
My friends will ask for my forgiveness
as they set the straw afire.
Will I be a Christian then?
In the dank, dreary domain of leeches
bloodsuckers swim willy-nilly,
hither and thither in the murk.
Aquatic bloodhounds
sniffing the water, they zero in on lunch,
a warm barefoot or a leg will do just fine.
Like vampire bats,
they numb their bite, so it's painless.
Both the stuff of nightmares
and a prayer come true,
you mustn't judge them harshly; they're most beneficial.
Why else would nature
create such a parasitic creature?
No one relishes the task
when I ask for volunteers to catch wild leeches;
they all have feet of lead as I lead them to the pond.
My colleagues refer to them as squirming syringes.
And yet, these lowly critters are miracle workers
once you get past their slimy feel and swamp smell.
It takes but a second
for their minute teeth to cut into bruised flesh
helping to restore blood circulation.
(Free Verse)
Aug. 15, 2018
As i'm up on the cliffs,
i get a sight of the town.
A calm day,
not even a sound
I sit there & ponder the profound
Because my mind resounds
Like bloodhounds who
Discover murderous true-found's
Who put 2 rounds
Into blue clowns
Who were too down & always frowned
Because the weight of their success
Weighed half the amount of a pound
&, their progress climbed a hopeless mound
Off the focused ground
Of the All-Seeing Eye...
Of tall beings who fly
& came from the sky
I soon discovered why
This knowledge hasn't passed me by
For, i am taught that in life you must always try
Who gives a damn if you are soon to die?
The ones you think care,
Are the one's who will truly lie
In order to solidify
Their place in this cold-hearted
World of the spy & the fried
Who live petrified by the evil inside
Us all that will create the fall
Of ourselves & all the power melds
Into the Industrial Revolution of our
Illustrious Evolution
Seeking disastrous resolutions
& claiming that regressed illusions are the Essence
Of the Almighty's presence
Yet, humanity keeps getting picked off
Like bullets towards a pheasant
Our wings are gone &
Now, one cannot take to the skies
For our collective ignorance extends too long
& the masses believe these repressive lies
Strung together with unbinding ties
& hopeless vies for assistance
to the very ones oppressing us
Seems like a mindless policing
Of the people instead of
Joining the resistance
& defeating the blind mess
Of the ones leasing the steeple
To the creeps full of it
As they pardon us all
Yet, go behind our backs to get lit
Making them unholy hypocrites
Tis the season for frightful bugs,
found one in my bed,
even in my rug,
they seem to turn up everywhere,
even in the breath mint in my mouth,
even heard one in the rhythm
of my clock,
the other day went walking
only to discover one in my sock,
then I tried to kill it,
but they're hard as a rock,
one time one was on my plate,
and I almost ate it
thinking it was a grape,
Now listen up,
you little blood sucking pests,
I will hunt you down
till I get no rest!
Its bad enough that its allergy season,
we don't want any of your diseases!
Might use some bloodhounds
to help track them down,
if only we could annihilate them,
all throughout the town,
then they'd finally be extinct,
and people and dogs everywhere
would no longer be forlorn and frown,
but if I need professional help
guess I'll call an exterminator,
and if that doesn't work,
I'll get Arnold the terminator!
Running Free
wet with sweat
heart pounding
in disguise
siren's sounding
just beyond
the wall dividing
sinners from
the law abiding
just one chance
to try scaling
hear the voice
of freedom hailing
shadows of
the verdict tailing
victim of
the system failing
justice blind
by railroading
guards in towers
now reloading
over the top
I start scanning
never thought this
far in planning
quick decent
almost falling
on the ground
I start hauling
through the night
bloodhounds baying
hoping the river
will cause delaying
a miracle
dogs fail scenting
some retribution
for repenting
no one knows
where I'm residing
they just know
I'm somewhere hiding
By: Jeremy Siedlecki
Two boys dared me to do the same
After peeing on a playground swing
When I was caught I said right away
It was a peer pressure sort of thing
Later little Mary Lou Henton
Sat down on it with a splat
Somewhat upset she ran away
And no one knew where she was at
The cops sent out some bloodhounds
They found her under a garage shelf
Truth be known, as bad as it was
I could have followed the scent myself
She got over the awful stigma
I got a restraining order that day
IF I'm close to a playground swing
I have to zip up and walk away
Growing up, I was always motivated to make a better life for myself, and
Regardless of the cost, I was determined to make life better for my family
Economic depression were words that enchained everyone dear to me, and
After completing High School was when I set out to make my bold move
There were no bloodhounds daring my escape; I was not exactly incarcerated
Escape, however, was the only option because no one offered a kind and pleasant exit
Slavery was a hundred years prior to my existence, but Jim Crow was alive
Christianity's meaning was twisted and turned upside down, but I knew that Christ was also alive,
And whether here, there, or elsewhere, He was the key, mentally and spiritually, to my personal freedom
People of ill will, poverty, and politics notwithstanding, that wall of minimal opportunity and discrimination was doomed to fall
Even extreme poverty in the poorest state in America was no match for faith in God, family, and friends
010720PoSoupContest, Great Escape, John Hamilton
My Bloodhound is a dreamer and he thinks that he can fly,
And his ears are plenty big enough to give it an honest try.
When we are out walking and we turn into a headwind breeze,
He sniffs the air and looks into the sky well above the trees.
Then he will fall back a bit to give the leash some extra slack,
When he lunges into the air it's altitude not attitude he'll lack.
A willing heart is what he has, he knows he's meant to sail,
With ears for wings his feet for gear and a rudder that's a tail.
And he might be disappointed when his four feet hit the ground,
But he will only show a smiling face when he turns around.
Because he sees himself in the clouds and one more thing I know,
He takes delight in watching me dangle from the leash below.
tearing away my flesh
watching my bones splinter away
wondering why i'm dying
dying because of the past
gouging out my eyes
so i can't see anymore
feeling death standing by me
walking alone in the dark
crying about the past
woundering how it found me
hearing the bloodhounds bark
bark so silent but deadly
seeing the past
the past for what it is
watching my family fall away
fall away from me
fall away from you
watching everything dissappear
while my heart stops
waiting to die
watching my flesh crumble
crumble in my hands like dust
alone in the dark
alone in my pain
alone in the darkness
waiting to die here alone
alone in the dark
waiting to die
Of course I avoid you.
Why would I want to hang out?
Sniffing around - looking for faults like a buck-toothed bloodhound
I know what and where my fault lines are.
Because I keep slipping into the same ones.
Your bloodhounds may have good sniffers.
But the eyesight not so much...
My faults, though significant, are not as wide as before.
I try now and again to stitch them up to stem the flow of blood.
I've also got some bloodhound in me.
That happens to be my biggest fault.
I can see your faults are a bit wider than before.
Have you misplaced your needle and thread?
Run pick up the mantle of liberation and injustice...
Run with it as fast, sure footed with groundbreaking speed
"Run"
Like you've been set free released...
turn that run, struggle (s) into a run of triumphs out weighted by all odds... Oh my child, my child, Oh my child!!
never forget from whence you came...
Jump those hurdles as through cold justice was right on your trail like bloodhounds out of the wild tracking you down with all the desire to reduce you to their lowest form ...
"Run"
No one can ride your back unless you give permission of surrender. You are no longer a prisoner nor trapped in one's own illusions, imaginations...
"Run"
My child never forgetting from whence you came, be very so alert...
Jump those hurdles of life with strength of endurance with bearable self control and emotions...
"Run"
Never look back..
"Run My Child"
Deborah Vines 6/2018