Bloodhound Poems

Aw shucks, I did sustain
moderately serious injury
series of unfortunate events
ludicrous and quite insane,
yours truly did previously explain
while crouching (think

Tony as papier mâché Tiger),
aye fell backward, where sharp
desktop corner didst train
ground zero right side rib cage domain
punched thru L.L. Bean Autumn...Read More

Some got a pathological need,
a dirty obsession for that coffin wallpaper
They wrapped themselves in the black widow veil
of murderous deceit
For what?
To taste the yellow snow 
of an unclean life   insurance policy,
a crimson crypt guarantee
They’re willing to scarlet signature...Read More

Good n plenti riches abound
unreachable to gentle
hermit while aboveground,
human ship of state 
fore'er stranded aground
only thru death do him part will
his grievous soul get spirited airbound

chokehold sensation ceased when freedom
against debtor's prison unshackled
humongous human corporeal being all around
to little monetary...Read More

The Bloodhound. 

He’s coming, yes he’s coming I know he is
I can smell him I know I can, Oh that bad scent 
You’d think he’d stop rubbing himself in it. 
But I love him I love him I love him,...Read More

Proud of having in veins Anglo-Scottish blood,
hound is the suitable surname I have earned
for the tireless tracking instinct ingrained in me,
an exclusive pedigree of rare gene manifest in
razor-edge sharpness of a keen sense of smell,
captured by profuse olfactory receptors well.

Unleashed...Read More

The Bloodhound

I hate my job.
I am a work dog who can sniff out life and wrongdoing.
I nip at the tired heels in shackles.
I sniffed for the ensnarled and enslaved
on barren southern soil.
I sniff for vulnerable creatures.
My bark is a hoarse...Read More

Dawn breaks over the horizon in a thin, frail line
my large snout presses downward upon the
ragged earth beneath, for I am on the hunt
absorbed in my task, scanning and searching
for that elusive scent that is in my wake.

Like a great...Read More

I can't wait for the sun to set, but it's taking its sweet old time!
My master takes me hunting for raccoons after dark,
and I’m anxious to sniff out their trail.
A plethora of odors assault my sensitive nose 
confusing my brain,
but...Read More

Morning has risen
the sky is showing off
a bit more enthusiasm than i
with my ears hanging 
off the edge of the bed
my worried look shows
through the wrinkles
slumped on my face

i know the routine
a quick kiss on the head
leaving me with the...Read More

Office manager Mr. Honey Badger called his administrative assistant Mr. Bloodhound into the office. Honey badger was extremely mad because he looked out of his office window and could see that the folks in the office were whispering and snickering...Read More

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...Read More

'Bloodhound',

Heartbroken eyes,

Wags furry empennage,

Raises hopeful household, perhaps,

Baffled.



*Traditional Cinquain
2-4-6-8-2 Syllables
First line - title, last line - connects title
...Read More

Bloodhound

Sad eyes

Wags his tail

A hopeful sign, perchance,

Confused.



*Modern Cinquain...Read More

Get the barby firing, put on the ready meat
have the odour wafting through houses in the street;
someone half a mile away, puts his nose in the air,
goes hell-bent on a bloodhound scent to get over there.

He'd place a snag between...Read More

He washes his face in the morning sun
Streaking 'cross his bed
Reaches out for a cigarette
Finds an empty pack instead

Morning brings a thirst for freedom
He's bound as he can get!
'Been trying to escape her memory
But he hasn't made it yet

He stands...Read More

(any resemblance to the following and 
living persons iz purely coincidental)

Family, friends, and
     strangers didst weep
when my brutally
     murdered gagged and
     bound distended corpse
    ...Read More

A bloodhound sleuth lost the scent of time’s belt,
Of youths’ pants slipping relentlessly South.
Moons’ full exposure with nary a welt.
The ruthless truth will not release its mouth.

8/15/2018

Stand firm then with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the...Read More

From sea to shining sea,
‘Merica ain’t never been nothin’ but
a prison for
angry black boys like me

Childish rage moved my hands,
hateful oppression reaction expression
made me feel iron containment

Understanding finally came,
when I began to reason as a man,
not a beast ... a...Read More

Yes! You are bloodhound! Just do fun with rule!
I’m your kick; your punch with cursive language!
May be you are the best norm of satanic pan!
 
but look still the best stand here with rose
and think that you will understand all
and...Read More

Though the trail has grown cold,
this never deters
Clues are always left behind ...
connections of a most human kind
Desperate souls feel a compulsive need
to leave cyber cadaver traces of a living memory
Holographic scrapbooks hidden in encrypted firewalls
Another person will have it...Read More

REVELATION OF A STALKER

my daughter brought her stalker date
i watched him closely...my eyes penetrate
like a bloodhound, my nose to heels
he feels my presence in the revolving door

he’d call when she wasn’t home
just to hear my voice upon the phone
i told...Read More

It was a good spot.
A spot near the bus stop.
A spot where on many days the air was filled with aroma
of fruits and vegetables from tables set up in front of markets.
A spot where a poignant odor from the fish...Read More

You hate your job,
but you're good at what you do
A paid shadow
who follows the trail of indiscretions
that other people lead you to
You're a gumshoe,
sticking to the assignment given you
Like a bloodhound on the scent,
another philanderer is going down
once you catch...Read More

Creeping 
Beeping
I am sitting in a silent storm
haunting taunting
Your love is a mirror reflection of gold
Each day i wait for  your retaliation
But you know me so well
Calculated my every move
You keep me at bay when you know that
passion is...Read More

© 2011 (by Jim Sularz)
(The true story of Frank Eaton – AKA “Pistol Pete”)

At the headwaters of the Red Woods Branch,
near a gentle slope on a dusty trail.
On an iron gate, at the Twin Mounds cemetery,
a bouquet of dry sunflowers...Read More