Best Leeched Poems
Gold Fever
History will not record the bloated weight
Of this pious and bigoted race
Or count the fat and flaccid wealth
Of religions idolatry
Those pages have been scrubbed clean
By prosperous forgivingness
And the cruelty of established political dominion
Will not tally the bodies of the oppressed
To them, faith and belief are merely a weapon
A system of abusive control
And a means of power continuation
A dictatorial right to rule the population
History will not record the inheritance of opinion
But lay blind at the doors of massacre
The Aztec, The Aborigine, The North American Indian, The African *****,
Pray in silence to The Church
Centuries written in blood and torture
For a message of verbiage and usage
Extracted and leeched from the poor and uneducated
Created the western dream
The long night of the witch hunt is not over
The Inquisition has saved us
With fake blood and wooden crosses
This elite of moral perspective shall save us all
We have paid the price in conscience
Superiority managed by white skinned indifference
Holy mother church has welcomed all
All into its iron embrace of slack jawed wonder
And what more despicable rule can there be
Than to dictate ones own spiritual journey
Spouted by the rote of political expediency
And the promise of heaven
Ingrained now this so called Christian ethic
And so much of the truth left distorted
Forgotten now are the ancient mystical secrets
Which united mankind to understanding
Idol of gold and crucifixion
Of cathedral and stained glass objectification
Gilt and holy water of sumptuous ritual
Of silken pope and luxurious self righteous invention
An aberration of human faith and belief
An unrepentant destroyer of “ Loves ” dream
The curse of The Christ as you continue to translate
The Word
And where the paupers fist crunches the dirt
Where dried and parched lips pray for rain
Where the desperate cry for a reason echoes
Where blood flows in feted anger
Where children scream in fear
Where hunger and despair debase and demean
Where there is no light
And in the dark only pain
If you wish to care for the souls of mankind
Preacher
It is there with them
There
Is where you should be
Categories:
leeched, faithfaith, political, perspective, ,
Form:
Free verse
The Fight
Determination to remove your force
of despondency.
That osmosis of my joy being leeched
through your membrane of anxiety
to a cavern of what if’s and if only’s
preventing the next step, the positive thought
due to the never- ending saturation of the negative.
Maybe moment by moment, cell by cell
is all I can fight to exchange this pessimism for
optimism, so that my existence moves towards
the light of happiness, defeating the empty
thoughts and lies that try to drag me into darkness.
Dark flowers of foreboding may lay hidden,
shaded and mushroom-like under logs and
fallen leaves of disquiet and worry,
creating shadow, trying to remove the sunlight,
hoping to replace the blue forest flowers I grow.
But I won’t give up, for light always overcomes darkness.
Categories:
leeched, hope, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
Once upon a Pike’s Peak dreary,
This witch said her name was Carrie,
Fog so thick couldn’t see nary,
Though her screech was a bit scary!
Suddenly the thick fog lifted,
What I saw was nary gifted,
She stared as on broom she shifted,
Astrid the broom her dress drifted.
I saw her multi colored socks,
Her face was marked with multi pocks,
Ugly wench, as small pile of rocks,
She said, “Aren’t I a beauty’s fox?”
I said, “You are beauty’s least!
On your face, maggots have feasts!
You resemble something deceased!
Beauty’s returned as the beast.”
“Your beauty has been impeached,
Your ugly face has been leeched,
Dried up prune not lovely peach,
Leave me now of thee I beseech.”
Now visit to Pike’s Peak is bleary,
Because of Carrie I’m leery,
Resemblance to exes is eerie,
Place doesn’t fit my game theory!
Categories:
leeched, funny
Form:
Rhyme
Freedom.
Oh you can run now, I'm setting you free
So for once in your life, accept gratefully
Ignore every time I proclaimed in the past
My arms open wide will, again, be the last
I said that before I won't say it anymore
I'd mean what I say, then you'd knock at my door
I'd open it up, let you in, let you lie, let you
Sleep in my arms hoping dawn won't come by
But morning did come with the realisation
Your eyes spoke a tale through a brief hesitation
Tsunami of regrets and self preservation
But at long last I've healed, I'm a brand new creation
Awash with tranquility, peace I never knew that
Exists beyond chases and captures from you
Stood still for too long and in sunk the teeth
You leeched at my neck, you wouldn't let me breathe
But those where the days I was happy to die for
I'd rather you kill me than leave me to cry.
A poisoned nostalgia begins to creep in then
Proceeds to inject itself under my skin
How the tables have turned, I've become the snake
The skin you infected has begun to flake
I'm shedding the moments, the heartbreak, the lust
The love and the hate now united as dust
So hard to accept this was never meant to be
So go, you can run now, I promise you're free.
Jodie Williams for
The secondhand emotion contest
13 Jan 2012
Categories:
leeched, history, love, me, me,
Form:
Rhyme
There grew in a garden,
White flowers pale as death,
That grew in rows like tombstones,
Their odor; foul like dragons breath.
Flowers bent and brittle,
Stems with many a thorn,
No sweet fragrance, just a stench,
Their existence was one to mourn.
These deadly flowers spread,
The world was its domain,
Its roots had leeched all over,
And no other life could remain.
Only these flowers grew,
The earth’s soil was rotten,
This decay consumed all life.
Its plague could not be forgotten.
When it spread its poison,
Life on earth was finished,
All life had become extinct,
The whole world had been diminished.
Even though its fiction,
All this could become true,
These flowers merely symbols,
Of hate that could live within you.
Evil spreads so quickly,
To hearts that are hollow,
People want the easy life,
A route that’s easy to follow.
Evil tries to tempt you,
Disguised as a flower,
Don’t be tricked by its beauty,
Or you’ll fall under its power.
Take control of your life,
Don’t let your heart harden,
Or you’ll become this flower,
A spawn of this deadly garden.
Categories:
leeched, imagination, life, nature, philosophy,
Form:
Personification
Back to Reality
Waking up from dreaming...still screaming at myself wondering why it keeps
seeming to still be just a dream....but in reality mathematically nothing adds up
to be what its supposed to add up to....so I do what I have to do....from fake to real...false to true...what would anyone do...if they kept going through....changes?
Dreams slipping through...moving eyes when closed...thoughts of opening to something new but still the same...who's to blame..? There is no gain in life's game....it's a shame to aim for something that you really want...and you dream of fame...do things...see...touch...feel...have...but back to reality...
The world is expensive...everything has a cost...dreams are lost...expectation never reached...seems like lies what priest has preached...homeless living in the streets...leeched of what they once had...a home...a husband or wife a child that once called him or her mom or dad our country is the best but we live so bad...
It's so sad to strip dreams that people once had...places they wanted to go expectations parents wanted to see...but...back to reality....reality is harsh in a complexed kind of way...we could be gone tomorrow...but we're here today....
a dream is a wish your heart makes...enjoy the fakes...feel what is real...
throw away the false capture the true...I can still dream...can you?
By: Peter T. DeSpirito
Categories:
leeched, dream, spoken word,
Form:
Free verse
Aurora begins collecting daybreak’s embers -
sparking them till sun has caught on fire.
If fortunate, we get to waken to blue skies
as sun rises higher and higher.
Brightly comes daylight – eventually fading
after its zenith has been reached.
Sun worshippers know very well
precious light by nightfall can’t be leeched.
Soon twilight unfurls vibrancy wondrously -
colors whose beauty can sometimes make us sigh.
Pink or persimmon dissolve into the sea,
or violet we might see streak the sky!
Aug. 2, 2021 for Joseph May's Alpha Lines Poetry Contest
submitted Aug. 12 for A Brian Strand You Choose Poetry Contest
Categories:
leeched, beautiful, day,
Form:
Rhyme
O' How I Hated That Damn Ground
I stood there raining my tears
utterly broken at fifteen years
Thinking of all that dad gave
now newly laid in a lonely grave
O' how I hated that damn ground
screaming but with no sound
My family broken up as can be
yet none as destroyed as was me
Now in lonesome grave he lies
severed from all loving ties
I cry there standing so alone
bright world crashed, he is gone
Misery came summer of sixty-nine
too young to get drunk on wine
I stayed out all that dark night
waging my own long futile fight
I did my battle with dark spirits
coming softly but I could hear it
They placed deep hate in my heart
punish somebody, myself to start
My youth suddenly away had flown
my hate forced me to be grown
Some body will pay coming years
no more sobs, no more hot tears
Bark has now so wrapped my tree
my hate ate out the best of me
Ran alone in this blackened world
hate, my blazing banner unfurled
Bitter ash came from my burnt stone
compassion leeched from every bone
Years raced onward into my old age
time finally healed my bitter rage
Yesterday, talked to father again
told him I wash my leaves in rain
This tree bears no more bitter fruit
clear water finally found gnarly root!
Robert J. Lindley, 05-02-2015
Categories:
leeched, cry, death, grief, growth,
Form:
Rhyme
This is the second half, read part one before this
...This life was unlike others, not ripe, not light
We curs't them, 'stood not their mutual blight
There was a strange ambience, a UV map
of Pyrrhic love, a Stygian rapt
We could not believe it, to see it borne
Their darkness their cynic, their muse of thorns
The thorns so thick, so spiny so brutal
Their thicket so dark, impenetrable
Then two years were spent, were lost were gone
And they then stood gasping, fought out, forlorn
For a moment, a second, a damned micron
They thought it was pointless, a habit to be torn
In their eyes the glow faded and dimmed
Their embrace unclenched, they step't out for a swim
They said for a moment, that moment thus spent
"Is it not to be, my love, princess?"
"No, my heart, my life, it isn't."
Thunder failed, fires paled and banked
Storms rolled back, to join their ranks
The sun shone watery, clear, pale
We all rejoiced to see it fail
Yet when came night the dark, the cold
He stepped to their kingdom, arms out, to hold
His eyes glowed again, eager for dark eyrie
His blood tingled for her sweet evil sincer'ty
He waited but briefly, even brief too much
Two days too long even without her touch
He crashed out to find her, his life, dark love
He swept about, caught in morass, in mud
Where did she go, she left, departed
She said they were safer, alone, thus parted
The waves crashed down, destroyed the kingdom
Time smoothed the sand, waited for the new one
A drum of rain on window pane
A streak of tears, of dripping rain
A power melted, now cool, urbane
A life now gone, now leeched, now strained
A slipping sliding treach'rous lane
A fading, ripping, tearing, pain
A spectat'r watches, smiles, blames
A future deprived, no glory...
Mundane.
Categories:
leeched, lost love, lovedark, dark,
Form:
Rhyme
For days, for nights
you moaned in pain.
For weeks, for months
you cried in vain.
For days, for nights
you wept in silence.
For weeks, for months
you anguished with prudence.
For days, for nights
I leeched on your strength.
For weeks, for months
I feasted on your health.
For days, for nights
I gripped my claws in your veins.
For weeks, for months
You held on and soon, reigned.
On the night of that day
you screamed.
On the week of that month
I wailed.
At last, it was over.
Finally, Im here on this earth.
You were sober-
but you said, it has all its worth.
Fly, my mother!
Soar high!
Spread your wings!
Enjoy the sky!
Let us share this joy,
this bliss, this mirth;
for my birth
is your rebirth!
Categories:
leeched, family, happiness, health, hope,
Form:
Free verse
The Death of the River
When I see the mirror
I can see the inner working of my machinery,
Look my mental wire renders images of worn out routes after a short circuit happened in the pathways of daily burdens
My diseased body quivers with its weight of hard stitch skin snatched-rubbles leeched of life force as I have little energy to breath
The voice I hear is not my own, It dictates notes in familiar tones But full of foreign phrases, which it disguises as invitation
I wish I could dissolve myself from memory
or hide in my skull cave, But it is not wise to stifle,
Then an unlearned laughter came A spring brings the sun rays
A sea emerges from the death of the river There are two ways to live a life I can pursue the difficult one
Categories:
leeched, anxiety, change, character, confusion,
Form:
Blank verse
He accumulates oddments and curios,
contrivances with strange gears,
attachments that bolt unlikely parts together.
Pieces of something he is structuring or
assembling, a mechanism
too intricate to be entirely recalled.
He discovers these devises
on the leeched rim of vision.
Part of his mind
burns with the light of a kerosene lamp.
He does not want to waste much light
on impossible projects,
yet slowly he feels the inconceivable
taking shape.
He imagines stumbling across
the last piece of a construct.
Fingers search for connections.
He realizes that his whole life
has been spent building something
once seen.
Categories:
leeched, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Ripped, tattered, uselss wings
Cravings denied, heartless beings
Happiness was finally reached
Then you take her, ecstacy leeched
Gleaming smirks now faded frowns
Two for him, one for me
Loveless hate, can't you see?
Pain prevented, if only you cared
Instead you lash out, weapons bared
Multiple lives you would of saved
If only, if only, you had stayed
Categories:
leeched, angst, death, depression, lost
Form:
Free verse
Your lips start to move
and I hear the sound of your worries,
numbered like the children of Abraham,
boundless, like the sands in Egypt,
all of them, calling audibly.
the wrinkles beneath your eyes wrinkle me,
unwelcomed lines tracing the paths to a grave,
alas, I might not be able to return everything you gave.
these things; your voice, your eyes,
remind and hasten me,
yet I feel like I’m running on a mill.
terribly wounded by frenemies,
but only angry at the air,
the trees, the freer animals that I can’t be,
and at the luck that thus plagues me,
haunting, taunting, like a lion does a deer.
clutched and leeched to joyful memories,
the flashes of the folding of your skin,
and the growing tiredness in your steps.
Mother,
these years have betrayed me,
the knives in their hands,
have the wounds on my back as their scabbards,
they’d just pulled and plugged,
they took your youth and gave me fear,
and now threaten with the hardness of the earth,
so every time I hear your voice coarse with worries
and see your wrinkling face with nothing in my hand,
my heart shatters.
Categories:
leeched, age, mother, old,
Form:
Free verse
Dreaming of sugar spun so high
I could barely touch the sky when
a bird came and sat on my shoulder
she said she was messenger of the
gods of this realm and we (the humans)
of course had forgotten to sow our
souls with seeds of true harvest
most notably we strew our seeds onto the
hard ground of leeched existence where
little can be gathered other than motes
awaiting the rain of content to soften
our fields, we discover perhaps the
drive to exhume something thought
lost but not buried, at least in the
usual of sentiments, not in the ground
but in the concrete village we call
our selves...we hope, we pray, we
silently scream for anyone to listen
the gods of this realm have turned
away to their parlor games as we no
longer remember to deify their
existence, so who will deify ours?
Categories:
leeched, inspiration,
Form:
Blank verse