Best Bloodlust Poems
Brand your name into my skin,
Stroke by stroke;
Friction.
Notify my next of kin.
I jump into quicksilver
To quench my eyes of fire
My heart's desire dies tonight
Sliced so thin it flows through streams of blood.
He comes.
Graceful as the ghostly moonlight
glittering among the thorns,
he comes.
I feel him,
the warm whispers of the quiet forest listener.
He saunters, leans, and looks,
approaches, crouches low.
I cannot let his deadly perfection come so close to me!
But see how he relishes me?
See how my blood-heat kindles him?
See how he feeds on my submission?
Look—His hungering eyes grow dark for me,
reflecting legendary, horrifying depths . . .
he fights himself,
and his stone shoulders tighten
with restraint and desire,
with wicked control.
But he is too much, even for himself,
so the night lion growls and pounces.
There . . .
slowly . . . I feel it . . .
My inhibitions
are his infinite delicacies.
His breath is hot upon my neck!
He turns my face to him,
his eyes flash and blaze,
he caresses me with warming fingers,
and floods of sweetest fire weep over me!
Not to drown, but reborn
as his consuming desire
feeds my resurrection in him!
She waits.
Beautiful as the silver moonlight
pooling among black petals,
she waits.
Poor prey . . .
Why does something so preciously helpless ever evolve?
Why so tender? so perfect? so submissive? so sublime . . .
See, she struggles to conceal her quaint scarlet blushes,
and her small pale hands make weak display.
But there is strength in her, and she knows . . .
She senses the warm breath of my desire hover over her.
Poised, I pause above her lips.
The clinging mist upon her flesh is sweet!
With graceful sinister motions,
her full, bare throat yields her honey drops.
Her neck’s thick pulse pounds,
hearts plunge and bound,
blood-oiled bodies
joined in deathly counterpoint.
I soak in her sounds, while
she bellows longingly in the glade,
echoing moaning notes,
black sounds escape the velvet forest,
revealing the heart’s darkest parts.
Her trembling life retreats, revives,
releases . . .
Now, my gentle fawn,
You will rise angelic against death’s glowing darkness,
reborn within our sacred ceremony,
sacrificed, for our secret moonlit marriage!
POEM " I WILL FOLLOW YOU INTO THE DARK " by martin gedge
Close your eyes and fantasy the beauty you possess
for night be still surrender will the thrill as you undress
your naked skin that shivers in of body and of soul
will feel the heat of every beat of heart and dark shadow
each thrust of sigh for down you lie with passion love you feel
take all of breath of dying left in knowing that I'm real
and fear you not the token spot the lost of self control
so deep in lust that you must trust I follow where you go
and in the sea of ecstasy the realm of which you dream
is just in spite of broken light still splitting at the seam
and drawing near with vision clear is dear you don't belong
in a moments wake the dark will take before you reach the dawn...
by martin gedge©
BLOODLUST ca
The allure of her was strong and enticing. As he stealthily stalked her, he could feel the appetency rising heavily in his mind creating thoughts he could not assuage. He quickly crossed the street and walked hurriedly up the block, all the while keeping her in sight. He crossed the street once again and ducked into the nearby alley. When she approached the entrance he viciously grabbed her and dragged her into the dark, dank, putrid confines and began to assault her brutally. After committing this brutal attack and leaving her, not knowing if she was dead or alive, he suddenly felt a certain onslaught of mental anguish. His ability to make sound decisions with clarity of mind had gone awry. His atrocious act was less than auspicious for her. Once he had committed this dastardly, heinous act of violence, he went to the nearest church for confession hoping the priest could absolve his vicious act and save his soul from eternity in hell.
23 October 2019
For the contest sponsored by John Hamilton
The smell of death
Oh so sweet
The thrusting of the dagger
Oh so enchanting
Is it blood lust
Or a crave for murder
Stab another victim
Maybe I'll see which it is
Stabbed him, and him
And him
No, I still don't know
Stabbed him
I see it
A crave for murder
To see death
Of the enemy
The moon looms like a half-lidded eye
Casting silver light on an otherwise dark night
I embrace the kiss of the stars
As my skin gives off an ethereal glow
Into the urban jungle I go
For I am like a lion on the prowl
Test me and you might get a playful growl
But I'd prefer to go with the flow
A masquerade ball in a luxurious mansion
I put on my golden mask and cover my eyes
With a winning smirk upon my face
And how I simply adore the shocked looks
We're all here in masks
But the scent of blood tickles my nose
Aware of the eyes following me
The eyes of a wide-eyed doe
Her mask is a moon and sun
In the act of kissing each other
In a dazzling red dress
Inviting masculine contemplation
When the music begins I take her hand
And we begin to dance
In the presence of a predator
She dares not look away
I can feel every time her heart skips a beat
For in her exultation she has two left feet
But in her cheeks I see a growing heat
As inhibition faces defeat
We slip away from the crowd
Up three flights of stairs
On the very top floor a private balcony
Bewitched by the moon and stars
There our passion blossoms with a kiss
And our hands become wanderers
In pursuit of places that delight the imagination
Earning delighted gasps and moans
Overcome with need I ask to feed
And despite herself she bares her neck
And an agonized cry becomes a moan of pleasure
As fangs plunge into her soft flesh
Blood flows past my fangs
Sating the need of my burning throat
A deep groan of pleasure
Fills the night
As blood lust fades into natural lust
Beneath the moon and stars we become one
Lost to the throes of pleasure and passion
Neither of us want the night to end
I can hear you breathing, waiting anxiously,
tied to my headboard
I watch as you struggle, knots
tied tightly with new cord
I hunger for the taste of blood, fresh and
warm that I will draw from a vein
You wrestle helplessly as I
subject you to my pain
I cut your flesh gingerly, my
dagger leaving its mark
Your blood flows out, down your
breast, its colour very dark
I drag my finger through it
and put it to my tongue
How lucky for me that I found you,
one that is so young
I channel my energy, my power,
my ego, my swelling pride
How wonderful it would be to make
you my demon bride
With present great, O’ gracious hate
O’ hand in heart, neither tripp’d nor fear’d
Doth thine conquer, by thine of corrup’d lips
O’ Sicker thy pour’d thine sicken canst
Thy chanc’d on seated heart
Hath thy slate nigh single sinner hips
Wither’n hither if b’yond, where’n nought
With’n ernst wouldst prove best
O’er hung upon the dislocate
O’er hung ‘mongst the rest
O’ implor’d thine harvest
With thine of wicked hand
Thus thou shalt do, howst thou shalt plunge’n.
Murth’ing sex hold at thou’st darkling sight
Dost seem plung’d thou’n thy thick night
Night form foretold milk’d thine breast
Thou shalt b’sworn, bitter’n crest.
In swinish sleep, O’ grace of gurnish hell
Trammel’n surcease, deceit upon brow
Unknowest known, tak’n eye upon foe
How’st for, thou played’st most foully for
Give solely sovereign sway, sworn o'er swell’n,
Poison’d chalice, O’ in wanton fullness
Fall’n O’ fallace upon th’other
In punitive hail, O’ fall,O’ fail
How’st dare’st do’n all, O’
Doth crown’d th’thorn t’prick th’law
Thus thou shalt do’n, Thus thou’st forlorn,
Esteem’st th’privy procreant cradle
F’rapt fools of foolish valour
Succumb f’certain tongue’d desire, thou
Shalt reign ‘pon th’heavenly galore
For th’Christened babe
Wept ‘pon the cherubim whore:
“Great Glamis! Thou art shalt be, slain th’head ‘pon the Heaven’s decree!”
Hast form’d a kiss’n heaven,
Doth thou callst th’pure
Why hath th’crown crowd me by livid, in my stir
Ever hath thee crown’d withal
Hath borne a light,
So to withdrawal.
Bloodthirsty, flesh-hungry.
I was schooled
into turning off my heart.
Anything for the title,
for the power.
Power.
Power:
an intangible weapon-
a considerable price.
There are still more pressing matters.
Bloodlust.
Looming over my shoulder
like a shadow,
contorting in the light,
a quiet beauty
that speaks volumes
through the lenses
of a monster.