Blooded.
Trail.
Broken.
Bones.
Hearts.
Horrifying.
Screams.
Vengeful.
Spirits.
People.
Murderous.
Intends.
Treacherous.
Emotions.
Here lies.
Lies.
Love.
Here rests.
Joy.
Memories.
Rest.
Peace.
John Doe.
Society sure has a lot to say
on how middle-aged women should behave.
Who dares to sanction that fire still alive inside?
In this her fiftieth year, she curses her sex-drive.
For she has prayed for years for someone to love,
Imposed voluntary abstinence to honour the Man above.
Perhaps, she shall marry at sixty-five
Until then, the fight continues for she must thrive.
So on behalf of all hot-blooded women, she scribes.
Do this, do that
Do just what we say
Work here, work there
All the livelong day
Stand up, stand down
Rest your weary head
Turn left, turn right
Work until you're dead
Forgive me for feeling the need to say
I am neither a Communist nor a Nazi,
I’m a red-blooded American who served
My country in the U. S. Air Force, and,
I have always stood up for what’s right,
And, when bullied, I am up for the fight.
Divisiveness here is getting out of hand,
And probity is not at all being observed
Even hinting that I am a Nazi is crazy!
Forgive me for feeling the need to say.
written December 11, 2021
[written in my reverse rhyme format]
Smack down heat gives pavement a warm buzz of groggy
For a puppy who joyfully licks a lemon popsicle
held like a wand
By a caring boy with a warm buzz of rebel.
Composed July 27, 2020
You cut my heart out
A surgical procedure
~ Never recovered
I’ve walked along a lot of mean streets
I’ve seen a white man flogged
Swam out of ship, ten miles out to sea
With every stroke life passing before me
Machine gun inside a violin case
Triple homicide with nothing but a straight face
Wore the noose and took the last breath
Heart kept beating nineteen minutes past death
Nothing to hide and nothing to pretend
Humanity was stripped from me from birth until the end
Plains of wild buffalo who live to die and graze
Indoctrinated culture
Murder through the haze
Built upon a heritage of violence and control
Lady Justice’s tears well up
Dripping through blindfold
Feed the hungry bones and lies
And while you prejudicate
The victimized who built their lives
Upon a conquered native state
Oppenheimer’s miracle, enable cartel wars
The aristocracy dines upon
Napalm smoke and T.V. gore
Now I take a second glance
Towards the free homeland
Ripping itself to shreds upon: customer demand.
Red-blooded moon
We drink its honey
It’s out of boon
The nightmare’s coming.
We cannot sail
The gardens faded
Poets will fail
And love is jaded.
The blind chance
leads in the nowhere
The cold changes suns
And all is over.
I took a whip
Oh, poet’s honey!
The muses weep
And it is funny.
They say find peace
And don’t be angry
They’re on their knees
And they are hungry.
Friends left me soon,
Because of money
Red-blooded moon
I drink its honey.
I‘ll confess to a cold blooded murder
I’ve gone down that deep dark path
But I simply had no other alternative
With an intruder lurking in my bath
I had shouted out to my husband
But that action was no darn use
He’d popped out to the local shop
To get us much needed cow juice
The trespasser was so evil looking
With eight legs and eight beady eyes
I tried to scoop it with a damp flannel
These house breakers I really despise
The intruder planned his escape
With eight legs oh boy he could run
He hovered over the plug hole
This interloper had had his fun
So I flushed him right down the plughole
I’ve never committed murder before
I’d hurriedly disposed of his body
When I heard hubby’s key in the door
I immediately confessed to a murder
and my hubby dashed to the crime scene
But there hiding under the plug hole
was a spider that looked really clean!
So my dastardly deed had a happy ending
and a day in the court I won’t be attending!
Favourite poem from June 2018 contest
Sponsored by broken wings aka dear heart
6/7/18
O wintery flake, you’ve not kept me warm.
Your passion promised to never alarm.
Outside, I’m not sold.
My briefs rather cold.
In my frozen breast, swaths of ice free-form.
1/30/2018
Cold blooded diabetes
Try to stop her
If you can because
Insulin shots are not fun
But they must be given
When you're dealing with
Cold blooded diabetes
Will ravage your body
it can cause gangrene
And limb amputation
So take good care of yourself
When you deal with
Cold blooded diabetes
After you're diagnosed
Doctors will say
Exercise, manage your diet
And please lose some weight
Just because you deal with
Cold blooded diabetes
If you haven't got it yet
Please try to prevent
The neuropathy that accompanies
The body's breakdown
For those who deal with
Cold blooded diabetes
Climate of the heart, disapproving to the greens
Over its dead body is kindness a deal
Living with the mind covered in dark blanket
Dangerous and terrible is its close interactions.
Body full of energy but entirely bloodless
Loaded with the carcasses of passion and love
On self alone is its temperature warm and welcoming, as it
Opposes the existence of opulent personalities
Dos and don’ts, all marked in the registry of gruesome actions
Eyes nourished with veins of demonic temperaments, then
Deeds in so much stain, yet carried out in utmost normalcy.
Hissing from the throne
Of an empty ice castle
Cold blooded serpent
Who did a number on you('d)
Send chills down the Reaper's spine
Brighter than a fall bonfire but with the chill of ice,
the winter sun haloes a gray and barren woodland;
throbbing, almost hesitant, with a florescent pulse,
brazen in its unrelenting descent, it clings to the horizon.
How it hurt my eyes.
Thin skinned, the lids tinge orange, the white of sol’s merging.
Trunks, boughs, branches, twigs, welt the dusk,
rouging the line between, blooding the virgin night.
Pricked, the brain pulses in tune, unable to look away.
How it hurt my mind.
Splayed fingers do not block the sharpened spears of screaming light.
The winter sun, indexed, and palmed, scratches the face of I.
Within a dakened room beneath a pall, behind hides blue veins,
near comatose, I sigh, the light, the light, until shades and stars arrive.
How life and death both hurt.
First Published in Dual Coast Magazine Issue 1 2014
COLD BLOODED
Summer grows old
cold-blooded
tree’s scant
leafless twigs
bend and break
creek and whither
Anaemic the suns
pathetic rise
and fall so soon
the rainplunge of
icedew sickens
to greysludge gloom
Winter takes hold
cold-blooded
labouring storms
iceflesh to bone
sallow and shrunken
we faceforce doom
© Kim van Breda—29 September 2015
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