VI.
It used to be that a child
was called a precious gift,
so many of them used to die
we were joyful if they lived.
To kill such a defenseless soul
was barbaric and cruel,
but oh, how Satan did return,
and play us all for fools.
Now sixty million have been killed
before breaching the womb,
we murdered for the convenience,
sent innocents to doom.
Unique, one-of-a-kind people,
snuffed out like they were trash,
we hide behind euphemism…
we will answer for that.
How many siblings won’t you know,
and friends will you not have,
how many spouses won’t you meet,
or children young and glad?
How many books won’t be written,
and movies won’t be shot,
how much culture would we cherish
that now we have not got?
How many inventions were lost
within that murdered mind?
How many great things have vanished
due to this blooding crime?
For every five that you see now,
one more soul should exist,
you want to talk about heinous,
Hitler didn’t kill like this!
For our own selfish convenience
we butcher our own youth,
see the evil and don’t forest
who was taken from you.
gathering and bruising typhoon rain
purrs the pain
jumping off the tracks blind locomotive train
wreck to maime
blooding noses quicker than white caine
ignorance pickled conductors always feign
with hands stained red from another man's ration of grain
predictable as the charted tides of Maine
mismatching words and actions lead the cause of insane
intent should be printed clear and plain
January 12, 2021
Suzette Prime Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
Green Oasis in the midst of burning sands.
Milk ed Maidens in garb of headdress band.
Soaked in milk and butters cream.
Supple like the grass, taught like the reed.
Come back to me, fall back to your
Leige.
The dry hollowed Papyrus unlocks
the Sundials mystery.
Tells not the tale of my voyaged seventh sea.
Sarcophagus be damned.
I will procure the scarab from the Genie,
the Cyclops, Jason,
or whomever holds the Goldening,
that was fleeced from me.
I will take my birthright
from their blooding hands.
As the Nile bleeds
onto the fertile crescent lands.
See it in your Astronomy.
Canopic jar it with your gland.
The Sphinx's eyes gleam and Sirius,
it shines for me.
By God's own hand.
cold hearted is a blooding experience
cold hearted is a blooding vein of experience
a heart is a vein of experience
a heart is a cold blooded experience
a heart is a cold blooded expression
cold blooded is a cold expression
cold blooded is a cold experience
a cold blooded expression is a cold blooded experience
cold blooded is cold hearted
a heart is a cold blooded heart
a heart is a cold blooded vein
a blooding experience is a blooding vein
a blooding experience is a blooding expression
express is expressing a cold blooded vein
express is expressing a cold blooded expression
a cold hearted expression is a cold hearted vein
a cold hearted expression is a cold hearted heart
cold hearted is cold hearted
a cold blooded vein is a cold blooding vein
a heart is a cold hearted heart
a heart is a cold hearted hearted
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
Brighter than a fall bonfire, but with the chill of ice,
the Winter sun haloes the gray and barren woodland,
throbbing, almost hesitant, with a fluorescent 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 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 block, the sharpened spears of screaming fright.
The Winter sun, indexed, palmed, scratches, the face of I.
Within a lightless room a pall hides blue veins, near comatose,
brazen: the light, the light-- I sigh, until shades and stars arrive.
How life and death both hurt.
art by JulieG350
First Published by Dual Coast Magazine Issue 1 - 2014
I Closed your eyes
So you couldn’t see,
taking your hand
leading you free
Walking ahead
you followed my lead,
my eyes were yours
it had been decreed
Diving through reefs
cut with sorrow and pain,
I paid with my blooding
and slashing a vein
As knives were drawn
stabbing to kill,
I block with my sword
till they bow to my skill
Clashing with Titans
sent from the past,
my shield and Armour
will an eternity last
Lost to delusions
that erased my name,
ripped from a mind
stained in sorrow and pain
Slowly all roads
did narrow to end,
this warrior to maiden
laying arms transcends
Releasing your hand
that one last time,
Bereft of your hold
fingers touch the sublime
Breaching tendrils
of times membrane
I look back to ponder
what man cant explain
Reaching past dust
cobwebs and such
bringing to light
a darkness like puss
This gurgling evil
reaching the night
darkness is merging
blood thins with fright
Purple the hue
smearing the sky
blooding the moon
as evening cries
Gripping the stars
this misery held
rustling nasty
A new reigned hell
Wraiths of demons
flow from sight
marking their way
in crimson delight
Howling Hell-hounds
raging through scrub
growls of hunger
fake calls of love
Leaping through trees
shadow reapers appear
raking their talons
in whatever lay near
Shutting this rage
that claws into mind
locking this evil
from staining mankind