Best Jezebel Poems
Because she was a buxom blonde
and he lacked a sage Adviser,
(like a naïve fresh off the pond)
he fell for and idealized her.
If he had been but the wiser
and much more careful with his heart
as if he were a mean miser,
he’d have ne’er been fooled right from the start.
Poems for one of cheap, impure heart
make the Poet look un-clever
and like a fool, which is not smart:
hence his case from her did he sever!
A lesson learned late than never
is much better than to be fooled,
played, conned, gulled and duped forever—
and so in her cheap wont he is schooled.
Ah, such a dandy with a girl on each arm.
Is it his flaming red hair, or his endearing charm?
Two more behind follow in family extension.
Nice young girls drawn by his questionable intention.
A talked-about scene as they walk down the street,
The townspeople are shocked by this amorous fleet.
Like a barnyard rooster surrounded by hens,
He lives in a fantasy where love merely pretends.
Then, one day, he met the New Age Jezebel.
Rejected, he continued his romance to pursue.
Into her web was where he stumbled and fell,
And for the first time he pledged that his heart would be true.
A single rooster was walking down the road,
When he circled a stone to see what was behind it.
The cock had been young, but he was now growing old.
I wonder why he's searching. I just hope he can find it
JEZEBEL IS A REBEL
REFUSING TO REPENT
JEZEBEL IS RELENTLESS IN TACTICS
JEZEBEL WORDS ARE SOOTHING,SWEET,
AND SEASONED WITH FLATTERY OF INSINCERITIES....
DON'T EAT THE WICKEDNESS OF DECEIT
A STOMACH FILLED WITH MISFORTUNES...
JEZEBEL UTILIZES THE GIFT OF FALSE PROPHECY
SPOTTING THE WEAKNESSES
JEZEBEL SPECIALIZES IN THE GAME OF MANIPULATION......
JEZEBEL IS A BALL OF TEMPTATION DON'T GET
IT TWISTED IT'S NOT A PRETTY LADY DRESSED
PROVOCATIVELY WEARING RED LIPSTICK PRESUING
GENTLEMAN CALLERS....
JEZEBEL IS A DEMONIC SPIRIT BARING GIFTS OF:
CONFUSION,INFIRMITY,CALAMITY,FEAR,OPPRESSION,
DEPRESSION,DIVINATION AND A SPIRIT OF RELIGION
JEZEBEL HAS MANY TRICKS TO WOOOO YEAH BE CAREFUL
OF OLD JEZEBEL IT WILL QUENCH THE ANOINTING....
JEZEBEL THE BACKSTABBER,AND CON ARTIST TO THE HIGHEST
DEGREE DON'T LET THE OUTTER BAMBOZZLE YEAH......
JEZEBEL WILL SQUEEZE UNTIL YOU'RE LIFELESS
NEVER SECOND GUESS THE SPIRIT OF OLD JEZEBEL
Her body was a wonderland for him to explore
Because he could and because she gave it all
He had tasted this before and now he finds it hard to stop
Life’s most exotic desire
he craves it like a malnourished child. she pops,
His ecstasy, she wanted love and they made it
In his car and in a sea of blankets, the sea parted
Like Jesus and the miracle
They never stopped exploring, learning, trying
Feb 14th they played harder , she offered him more than he asked
Fulfilled dreams and fantasies,
While She lay waiting in the promises and Her unknown pain
The pain was unknown to Her yet She knew
But She held on to the faith, in the belief
That this was something special
For Her and for Him
But She waited at the corner of His house, in the cold
The wind cutting Her, deep slashes across Her eyes so that She wouldn’t see
For they had love to share, to embrace
Love that She felt for the first time, Her heart had weakened and wanted to be looked after
But it ended, Her pain continued, and like a cycle He returned
This time the promises felt real, the love felt true, and the bond was growing
But the night was misty and it stayed like that for very long time.
The black cloud followed Her everywhere but She was not aware
Not aware that the storm was going to fall and Her tempest would awaken.
That the curtains had not changed and the show still continued.
The sheets on which She held on to him stroking His hair, telling Him of Her love
he used it unlawfully and through the night
A sweaty tangle of sheets
she begged for more
And so one day Her and His Destructed. Her life was taken for granted
Her love was toyed with, Her trust destroyed and Her pain became known
Her inner pain She avoided, surfaced and took Her breath away
She doesn’t walk away but watches Him walk away from Her.
She will never know the full truth, the mist is not yet close to clearing up
But She continues on suffocating and burning
Waiting impatiently for the day She can breathe and let go.
God Save Her Soul. It Cries.
In the Tale of Marah Abbadon
Whose bitter spirit is long gone,
Her mother was a jaded Jezebel,
Who cast out Marah wishing her in Hell.
In life she wandered bare terrane
Plagued by pestilence and murrain.
She dwelt in caves and holes in the ground,
The warmest homes she ever found.
Nothing ever relieved her woes,
Through desert heat and mountain snows.
Her lonesome life was fraught with danger.
Wherever she went she was a stranger,
Searching endlessly for a home,
But finding none, thus doomed to roam.
After dolorosa years of strife
She sought a place to end her life.
Through Jerusalem’s walls she made her way
Stumbling into Siloam’s pool that day.
A Spirit stirred the waters there.
Her heart felt lighter than the air.
It would not work; the angel told the wench
Her homesick thirst it could not quench.
A prophetic, white-robed passerby
Offered living water that shall not dry,
Blessing Marah with a place to dwell,
Forever closed to mama Jezebel.
5/2/2023
The Jezebel Katrina
It was a nasty wind that blew
Upon the shore that day.
She howled and hissed but would not desist
She had to have her way.
She was a lady of the night
And she was dressed to kill.
She blared and she glared, and she even dared
To do the devil's will.
She made her way into the bay
Upon that fateful eve.
Inside New Orleans you could hear the screams
Of those who were naive.
She ranted, raved and misbehaved
Way past the midnight hour,
With her hips swaying and the town folk praying
For the harlot to lose her power.
Katrina left the bay at last
Cackling on her way.
All that remains are the ungodly stains
Of a lady who went astray. . .
Dogs of Jezebel
2nd Kings 9:30
Painting your eyes,
arranging your hair.
As if expecting a lover
to climb up your stairs.
It’s not a lover,
but death that climbs.
Calling your name,
for the very last time.
Daughter of Baal,
doesn't your god hear?
You pray for deliverance
from judgment that’s near.
The silence of your idol
leaves you to wonder.
Chariots approach,
on wheels of thunder.
Still defiant,
with no tears or remorse.
From the window of your temple,
you see the main force.
You cursed their God,
his servants put to sword.
This was your sacrifice
for your Canaanite lord.
You taunt your captors,
with jeers of hate.
Not knowing their God
has sealed your fate.
They take you to the window,
throw you to the ground.
Chariots trample flesh and bone,
til silence the only sound.
Dogs appear,
ravenous for man or beast.
How ironic that Jezebel
was queen of this feast.
2017
I recall it was in the way you walked,
Or could it be the way you spoke?
Perhaps the way you called my name,
Or even how you smelt like an Eden garden?
Your eyes were white as the clouds,
Perhaps they were black as the coal?
That skin of yours as smooth as air,
Smooth like the forgotten ground.
~
I remember it was in June we met,
When the autumn winds rustled,
You asked for the scarf I wore,
To chase away the blazing heat.
I remember your name very well,
I heard it with these closed ears,
I sang out to you each night,
With a serene muted voice.
Dim lit, damp and distant corner
Torn from dream of vapor’s fold
Slow descent to worlds divided
Nothing hot and nothing cold
Long ago, this soul forgotten
Cast off in the ides of youth
Un-forgiven deeds left hiding
Neath the stones of burden’s proof
Wait to see if fate redeems her
Wait to hear if time repeals
Sentence passed down just to mar her
Word and deed like flint and steel
‘Jezebel’ they mock to call her
Waging war against the skin
Pressed on by the mob’s directive
Let the judgment now begin
Scrutinize each blood stained footprint
Left across the ice drawn field
Hide the ones who hold her province
Never bend, no never yield
For from that damp and distant corner
Ever flows the world of hate
Through the veins of those who think they
Hold the key to Heaven’s gate
…Jeff Bresee
Raised up gooseflesh dipped in metal,
a shiver runs right down my spine;
Every emotion they enshrine,
somehow the scream helps me settle;
Please hit that double bass pedal,
I’ll throw you a devil horn sign;
Raised up gooseflesh;
They view me as the jezebel,
a black fishnet flavored outline;
With a head bang everything’s fine,
healing factor with no equal;
Raised up gooseflesh.
One who reaps the blackened fruit
but loathes the taste of its ferment
is the sailor who can't tolerate
the foul stench of his only catch
the one that fears his only God
who provides no hope for serenity
is the blood on which his grace will thrive
as the follower lives in poverty.
let him breath for he hath not sinned
yet kings of men will show no mercy
in this they form the cruelest of men
the ones deemed worthy of hierarchy.
With the dogs she rests as the houses will burn
while her children all suffer and await their turn
the sulfur now boils and mountains now fall
As kings of men gather in swarms, one and all.
The millions gathered here to face judgement today
are the souls who will perish and have died all in vain.
So draw the cold nail from my immortal wrist
The vein that pumps strongly, your disdain and risk
an eternity fooled by a single man
Our faith falls victim to the most unholy of scams
One true believer in a wall of pawned men. Intentions driven, innate, and bland.
But to think that my words, were written divinely,
is an untold secret, a true fallacy.
[..] she looked at the monk in front of her, smiling an impish smile to what he had just
proclaimed: “you cannot touch me with your charms, lust is a sin, be gone!”. she then
fixed her gaze upon his eyes, forcing him to look straight at her, while she came closer
and closer to him, letting him guess the shape of her breasts beneath the silken robe, and
while caressing his neck with her hot breath, grinning because of his obvious shivers, she
hissed into his ear: “lust is no sin, brother…lust is just a momentary weakness of the
flesh. the real sin is born when you pretend in front of others that your skin is not
bearing the mark of weakness, when in fact your body willingly remembers that weakness
again and again, under the night’s protective veils…just like you will remember me…”[…]
if ever a devil was born
violent and rude, a star of the dawn
if ever an angel fell,
it would be you, Jezebel
if ever there were two eyes
to take the blue from out of the sky
giving me heaven and hell,
in that same tune, Jezebel
the one and the only
at times it gets lonely
soon she will know me. . . better
that's where it is, these are the parts
this is my kiss and here is my heart
they say only time will tell
if it is true, Jezebel
I'll not be surprised
if she tells me a lie
I'm just glad t' have met her
the one and the only
if she still wants to hold me
now she will know me. . . better
if ever an angel fell,
it would be you, Jezebel
______________________________________
Jezebel, you ****
Gather your composure
before the curtain goes up
Wipe away those crocodile tears
falling from your right eye
Left eye is still a predator,
so don't touch the baited trap
when Jezebel starts to cry
Accept the Oscar award,
best actress you truly are
No one has your cunning,
you're the most devious by far
Jezebel, you drunken whore
That phony saline solution,
streaming down your face,
will mar your perfect makeup for sure
As you stagger across the stage,
spilling wine from a cup onto the floor
Fake insincere boo hoo hoos
aren't supposed to be delivered
before the final ceremony act
Let the losers take their bow,
but first pull your knife out their back
As hated rivals whisper how
you smeared them with fabricated attacks
Poisoned darts shot to the liver,
sinister sobs welcome the tragic news
Beware when Jezebel is bawling,
crying her eyes out over hurting you
Her toxic tears will have your skin crawling,
such a sick twisted Jezebel thing to do