Best Bloodthirsty Poems
Unexpectedly the timid sun made an appearance,
an orb of flames, silent amidst the peaceful horizon.
Wistfully, the harmony was short lived.
Ferocious winds blew with merciless tones.
Melancholic rain returning with little remorse.
Inclement storms battering emotions,
brutally defeating them into oblivion.
Raindrops soaked like predatory demons,
in conjunction with bloodthirsty winds,
lost within the abyss of anguish and pain,
seeking shelter from vicious venomous daggers.
I stumbled upon the marketplace of sorrow,
surrounded by souls lost to a religion of perturbation.
Ambushed I remained, impatiently in this downpour degradation,
counting down the days of disturbing December deterioration.
Silent One
Originally written in 6 December 2015
Repost: 7 December 2017
Creeping creepy creepers, the crawling trellis
jutting out of everywhere
snaking through country and metropolis
twisting turning in floral bliss
but more like snakes that hiss
But in quietude feign death for self-defense!
Weeping willows with an unreal surreal sorrow
weeping tears of dew onto the silted furrow.
Perhaps weeping for bretheren felled
in deforestations and land clearings in
my imaginations of the call to preservation.
Against ethnic cleansing of greenery for selfish building
As per man's construction for mere recreation
Velvety-green tear- stained faces or rather foliage
When dew is stuck on them as nature's trinkets of pearls.
And over there touch-me-nots swaying coyly
like prim and proper maidens
in the fantastic floral gardens.
And what in the world is this case?
Imitation flowery in place of imitation jewellery?
Yeah, thats poinsettia in a vase
Leaves in the disguise of flowers
Its actual flowers relegated to backstage.
And ethereal fairy-slippers await their never coming wearers
and Indian pipes to be admired by Red Indian sightseers.
Oh and here's another spectacle- but sniper tactics this time
Yikes! Let the naive insect world beware!
Whilst the bloodthirsty killers lie in ambush
Those camouflaged jungle guerrillas
or should we say the venus fly-traps!
Or a more harmless one yet mimicking the scary
A snap-dragon flora, its mouth opening and snapping shut.
Then watch that mega-sized jumbo giant flora
The world's largest flower
No stems, no leaves, plant-eater plant, rafflesia.
Is it too much for the faint-hearted ha ha.
And wow now watch that incredible costume, oh my!
A flower masked as some pesky fly!
None other than the remarkable fly orchid.
And yet another, the silent music of the fiddlenecks
Fiddles as if for the light-weight fairies.
And lastly not forgetting ofcourse
the sky-blue unforgettable forget-me-nots
A memorable bouquet but themselves devoid of memory.
Ah nature lover poets if you wish to view
more of flora in a fancy dress masquerade
Go ahead and flip through the pages of
a botanical, floral
horticultural
pictorial journal.
And see for yourself the fantastic flora's charade
or else imagine them dressed as a floral renegade!
We loved the land
We tilled the earth, under sun we toiled
We pledged our souls, to nature’s whim
The King of France none to pleased
We took the sacraments
We held our faith, mournful to fates embrace
The British demanded a new oath we take
And scalped we were, both sides did partake
Our villages burned, our fields afire
Our woman and children, in hunger perished
We feared Monckton, a hunter of death
And from him, to ships hold, deported at best
We preyed to Canada, to lend us a hand
Evangeline an angel of our land
The darkened forests, to where we fled
Became bloody in battles, and turned to red
For Redcoats wandered in search of scalps
As Father Le Loutre preached unheavenly deeds
He was bloodthirsty and in skirmishes his evil flourished
His Mikmaq warriors helped rivers flow to blood
We lived along the rivers edge
We fought them all, to no one did we pledge
As serfs we served, to whom did rule
In the end, the forest sang our quiet eulogy
The vessels sailed from Halifax
With their human cargo of Partisans
Off to the West Indies, and a new land
Disease triumphed where Lord Laurence failed
And so the voyage, onward went
The traditions of Grand Pre, to Louisiana was lent
And there they settled, peace at last
As angels of their battles, in sacrifice did rest
Listen, my dears, and I'll tell you a tale
Of a princess, a pirate, and glory.
There's a shipwreck, a rescue,
A romance, a ransom,
And a handicapped whale in the story.
There once was a princess, fairest of all,
But also quite vain and spoiled rotten.
She had a semi-private
Affair with a pirate
That would be but for me now forgotten.
The pirate, Mad Jack, was bloodthirsty and crude,
When upset, he'd explode, blow his top off.
Merchant vessels he sank,
Made their crews walk the plank,
Or, more rudely, their heads he would lop off.
One day Princess Daphne set out to sea
With her maid, they were bound for Majorca.
But the maid, in a gale,
Was swept over the rail
And inhaled by an asthmatic orca.
Lifeboats were lowered, the crew clambered in
And rowed quickly away, only thinking
Of saving their own necks,
Not the princess below decks
Left alone on a wreck that was sinking.
Then through the storm a ship hove into view,
At first Daphne thought it would dodge her.
But before she could hail her,
She felt courage fail her,
From its mast flew a vast Jolly Roger.
When Princess Daphne was brought before Jack,
She was haughty but thought he was handsome.
But to his greedy eyes
This fair royal prize
Represented a shipload of ransom.
But Jack was still human, Daphne was too,
And soon they were sharing their privates.
To his quarters she moved
And his crew all approved,
No one loves a love tale more than pirates.
But what of the ransom, yet to be paid?
Well, here the plot gets even deeper.
The stingy king said to Jack,
"No, I don't want her back.
It's cheaper for me if you keep her."
So Princess Daphne became Jack's sea wife,
And though common, but not mandatory,
When they became parents
They stopped being pirates
And passed peacefully out of the story.
For now then, my dears, that's the end of my tale,
An adventurous one hard to equal.
But, if I may be so bold,
And there's more to be told,
It may one day unfold in a sequel.
Tell me,
My dear friend,
My beloved brother,
My trusted ally,
Till when are we going to let
The autocrats
The dictators
The despots, and
The tyrants govern us?
Till when do we intend to allow these
Barbarous
Vicious
Immoral, and
Unholy glory-seekers rule our lives?
Till when are we going to permit these ignorant monsters,
To imprison,
To torture,
To maim, and
To kill their own people?
Till when are we going to observe these savages;
Attacking,
Occupying,
Enslaving, and
Obliterating smaller nations?
For how many more millennia do we have to witness the devastation of
Humanity because of these morally impotent criminals who
Instill tons of hatred in the hearts and minds of our fellow humans?
Tell me, my friend, my brother, my trusted ally,
Isn't about time to revolt against such malicious rulers?
Against such practices?
Against war?
Against ignorance, and
Against injustice?
Has not the time come to replace these bloodthirsty evil men
With virtuous men?
With men of a loving heart and mind?
With knowledgeable men?
With compassionate men for peace?
With men of wisdom and justice?
Come now, my fellow human,
I wish you would agree with me.
I want you to agree with me.
I beg you to agree with me.
I implore you to agree with me if you, too, wish to see a
Fellowship of men and nations that cares for each other and is:
Kinder,
Nobler, and more
Loving,
Otherwise,
The afflictions of humanity will never end,
Unless, as Plato* has indicated in his Republic**,
The wise and the just would rule the world
Or
Those who rule the world become just and
Wise!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
15 August 2022
-
*Plato, Greek philosopher 428-348 BC
** Republic is Plato's most famous work where he details a wise society.
***Today is my birthday, so I wished to focus on peace and love and pay a small tribute to a Great philosopher.
-
As shifting shadows merge within the night,
darkness devours disheveled silhouettes.
And daylight disappears, fading from sight;
as a splendiferous sun slowly sets.
Twilight's crimson-colored clouds coalesce;
tinting the skies a cotton candy pink.
And yet, darkness descends nevertheless,
tattooing treetops with ebony ink.
Sequined stars sparkle in the midnight sky;
glittering gems in the fabric of space.
And today toasts tomorrow with a sigh;
as a motley moon mirrors Sol's far face.
Moonbeams mold monsters mostly out of black;
sculpting scary shapes with chisels of light.
And female mosquitoes mount their attack;
as buzzing, bloodthirsty biters alight.
Silence shushes sounds, stirring in the day;
as night's nocturnal creatures start to wake.
And stridulating crickets chirp away;
trilling till dawn dawns and dreamers awake.
Trauma stained
my innocence,
before I knew
that the sunless
sky lost its glory
to doomed darkness,
an empathetic gaze
which roamed beneath my
saffron skin,
an ungodly vulture
disguised as a gracious
guide, whilst waking up
to wrinkled sheets of satin,
which burnt and betrayed
my virtue as an offspring-
as virginal petals
stained in blood,
drenched me in
cruel flashbacks.
I swam against
ghastly ghosts,
searching for
cosmic lilies,
floating on the crest
of a wave,
through unholy rivers,
baptizing darkest sins
of my exploited mind.
l've tasted sparkling
saline streaming
down tall murky falls,
Every ripple graphically
reminding me of
my childhood tears,
secrets which scarred
my strained soul
into suppression,
allowing dark voices in
my head to control
every aspect of
my conscience,
questioning the stars
that dimmed
their silver on me.
Was my fatigued
smile a written consent
to the bloodthirsty breezes,
brutally invading
every untouched cell?
Did I blindly sing
along to their lullaby?
Or have I been cursed
before I saw
the first light of life?
Perhaps these
questions will
forever haunt me,
there's no right
answer when
the ugly truth
has stolen every
reason to place my
trust in the
unkind mind
of the humankind,
for the devil resides
in their shameless
shadows, singing hellish clarity.
~SLY FOX~
There you go again little Sly fox P.D.
Another game of tag and jeopardy.
Clever, clever, little fox so bloodthirsty.
Chaos roams through your veins of liberty.
You walk the ground, prancing around your hostility.
Marching down with the dignity of mis-guided anarchy.
I'm gonna hunt you smell end it well.
Hang you up from your trophy tail.
Kiss your night one last farewell.
By morning dawn your foxy tail,
Won't live another tale to tell.
I'm gonna find ya' ~ pull your hideout from where you hide.
Smack you around in your everyday rebellious ways.
Thinking you can defeat my crowd with your lawlessness..
I don't need no hounds to track your unlivable Holy-mess.
You created a selfish character of kindness for the blindness.
You prey on the sheep's and linger on their wall of hopelessness.
Your sinfulness grew from the boldness, and bitterness,
Of growing up parent-less.
My dear Sly Fox are you on alert with your ears of nobleness.
Did you not hear me creeping while you were sleeping.
Sly fox the destroyer!
You are right, you are a mischievous game of hunt!
My trap is set and waiting for you by the river front.
Go ahead, take a drink, pull one last obnoxious stunt.
Run and run, as fast as you can!
You can't out run this one game of Skitty Skat fox hunt.....
~SKAT~
The knife was deep,
blood continues to seep,
as he thought about how life
comes and goes,
when you die, only God knows,
death remained a difficult concept to grasp,
as he gasped and he gasped,
he regained a seated position,
as he waited for the transition,
from life to death,
as he felt his final breath,
he expected Angels and Demons,
one with bloodthirsty anticipation,
and the other with forgiveness without contemplation,
but there was none,
life was over just like that,
and there was no Kingdom Come...
I have picked up a scent, something's been killed
And I can hear my feline foes growling still
I trot off to the scene with bloodthirsty zeal
Hoping to purloin a fresh meal
At the scene, four lionesses are having a feast
On the flesh of a hapless wildebeest
Others from my clan are gathering now
Laughing like crazy and ready to chow
The felines are not ready to give up their kill
A battle ensues and more blood is spilled
The lionesses have no choice but to flee
My laughter is chilling and filled with glee
Then I settle down to enjoy the feast
Having no concerns in the least
But two lions are charging in to settle the score
My bones rattle at the sound of their roar!
7-1-19
Pick a Title, Volume 6, Personification Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title Chose: The Hyena
oh,
boastful & bloodthirsty empire
stretching yourself silly
from “sea to shining sea”
will there ever be a moment of peace
again?
must you continue
rising like yeast
to command the breadth of the world
until you become far too burnt for anyone to
enjoy
anymore?
even rome had a
pax romana
even icarus
paused for a moment to strap his sandal back up
before
flying
into
the
sun.
" Tortured metaphors
spilling from tequila lips,
t i p t o e on my pulse ~
breaking in an arced smile
of the featherless eclipse,
where I waltz as a secluded steel-shine,
sobered s o f t l y
by the taste of satanic stars..."
I'm the loss of a leaf
from gold-dew aspens,
rippling upon
turquoise typewriters,
where drunk fingertips dance.
Turning to ashes,
my heart m e l t s
as a metallic grenade,
and no philosopher's stone
ever reverberating
in its silver-winged silence.
Seeking shelter from smoldering seas,
I curl up in the womb of a guardian willow ~
she's a weeping angel of n e v e r l a n d,
with an ornamented garland
of guns and roses,
enveloping me in the corpse of sunset.
Plunging from diamond cobwebs
into isles of champagne,
like a dynamite dove bloodthirsty for sun,
I l u r k along reefs
studded with rhinestones, unfurling –
lotus manuscripts
as poetic pearls s l i p and t w i r l,
snorkeling in an obsidian oasis.
I miss being
a purple-whisper prophecy,
threaded in fractured letters,
for now, my ink b l e e d s
in the marrow of moon,
where an alchemy is lost and found...
In the chronicles of carnelian clemency
and supernova sorcery,
I've seen arctic assonances
hibernating
in the throats of those,
holding lethal jewels
as a nightingale's neon noose.
So, if my soul is an opal widow
of your thistle-light affection,
a verse romanticised
will be my crystal coffin,
and in the caricatures
of kohl and karma,
our silent soliloquy
shall delicately be shifted.
Surfing in the splitting s i n s
of a salty saviour,
this whiskey damsel
shall evermore remain
a scentless phrase,
scrapped by pencilled brush-strokes,
i n v i s i b l e
in our paper-cut destiny...
Bloodthirsty men in black
God is great they chant
As they discharge a barrage
Of bullets from a mounted mobile gun
This round they’ve won it seems
Another dad has died
Another mum has cried
Children leave their games to run for cover
In abandoned homes and holes in the ground
Bullets blast apart families who flee to tented towns
Far away war-mongering men in suits
Gather in their noble quest to start another war
Greedy for gain
Their efforts attain only hatred and revenge
They fight a distant war
Where talk is cheap
They’ll send a thousand jets a hundred times
To drop a million bombs
They’ll teach others the art of war
And drones will do their dirty work
Yesterday, sociable sun embellished,
desires of my poetic garden heart.
Spreading sweet scents of serenity,
elegantly and enchantly, echoing,
vivid visions from my vibrant vocabulary,
but, such is the nature of the muse,
without refreshment, it's petal like mood cried
for raindrops of ink to nourish and flourish its
sensitive sleeping seeds, shielded by my soul.
But, howling winds arrived with bitter rain.
Their rapid rage of gusts so forceful,
fumed furiously at my simple words.
Hysterical and bloodthirsty,
their wrath devoured my delicate artistry,
all day and throughout the night -
for the first time, I felt empathy for the moon.
The morning after, I awoke to find my
flower garden resembling Greek ruins.
My cherry blossom tree is now bare,
her pink buds floating in depthless puddles.
Tulips are headless, with their perished petals,
laying lifeless along my purple slate path,
as rose bushes slump,
arching and aching from brutal blows.
Unsociable sun did not appear today,
maybe too afraid, maybe too shy.
In my state of despair, I wonder;
Is there beauty, in such a tragedy?
Is there hope in such an unfair travesty?
But raindrops keep pouring,
physically, emotionally and metaphorically.
There's a viscerally vial creature loosed,
Which is heinously hideous and vicious.
This barbarian monstrosity destroys people's vitality and flesh,
By raping and pillaging their lives,
Killing and ravaging entire families and villages,
Forever cursing all those it consumes.
I've taken up armament against this enemy,
Vowing an oath to eradicate this foe.
I wage continued war on this unholy vile behemoth,
Thrusting my dagger through its abdomen,
Ripping and slashing its bowels,
But it shrugs off the assault undeterred.
I shoot arrows through its heart,
Only to realize tis useless as no heart exists.
I take my sword and behead the beast,
But like Hydra, it restores its venomous crown.
I hack off its limbs chopping flesh and bone,
But it slithers demonically onward.
I gouge out its eyes blinding it from finding victims,
But it smells weakness, fear, and depression,
And tracks its quarry like a bloodhound.
I smash out its treacherous bloodthirsty teeth,
But it mauls its prey bludgeoning it mercilessly,
Slowly but surely till it's powerless.
I wrestle it and break it's back so it's paralyzed,
But its grotesque distorted mangled body trudges forward unhindered.
Nothing I do stops this devastating onslaught,
And I relinquish my battle and succumb unwillingly to this curse.
Destined to be enslaved to this ruthless foe forever.
Left helpless to struggle until I die,
Fighting with my own sins.