The clouds turn black, a bruised and heavy sky
A sudden gust of wind takes the leaves up high
The animals scurry on as the birds start to fly
The rain starts to patter like a summer in July
A thunder breaks out like a crack of the whip
Lightning strikes close, it makes your heart skip
A flood slowly rises as the ceiling starts to drip
The roof’s about to collapse like a capsizing ship
The winds take turns howling in despair
The lawn decor’s getting tossed up in the air
The rain blows sideways as it cuts and it tears
Mother Nature throws a fit of elemental scares
The warm sun is gone, only gray clouds remain
The silent aftermath leaves only fear and the pain
The effects of a storm that ominously reigned
This tempest leaves its mark like a holy bloodstain
Like a bloodstain she refuses to be cleaned off my memory
Nightmares are the only time I see her
Lost thoughts the only time I hear her
A siren in the city singing a song a longing
Pulling overboard the ship I thought I had made
I am no adonis I am no odysseus
To be in the legends of fables would be a blessing
To be forgotten only a blessing in another color
All is lost against the ever persistent tides
Oceanic dreams my only respite
Wishing to awake in a different world
Knowing it’ll never be as such
Happiness of others will not cost you
Their wealth will not affect your fortune
Live with a clean heart
Nor bloodstain your hands in evil
When you see others happy
You won't hurt your heart
Don't deposit envy in your life
Wish others good as you wish good for yourself
Good or bad prayer will return to you
Doing good will never return in the form of bad.
I looked back to when time had its first bloodstain,
Before the ringing of the first bell;
When grace was pouring like rain;
When envy first unleashed its spell;
And Cain murdered his brother Abel.
It was a time remembered so well,
The wickedness of man unleashed the first hell;
Even the healing effects of time could not just quell,
For it was ingrained like a spell,
Like an endless flow of water from a well.
Then came the time of the great Ceasar
When his friend Brutus co-plotted his demise;
The plague that tarnished
The bond of friendship was unleashed,
Like a lurking predatory beast.
No wonder why in the time of Jesus,
He was also betrayed by his disciple Judas,
For a price of Pesetas,
For the blurring effect of silver spell,
Is as deafening as the ringing of the bell.
So be therefore forewarned,
Even in these days, Judas is around,
He did not change except in name and appearance,
For the luster of a penny he could slay without penance,
Like a lurking crazy blood hound.
So it turns out we were cooked on slow burner until now and
the new mutant catches us by fire -- doctors must be going
through catechism drill, we 're bred to their natural trust.
Ah venomous serpent, wretch you, we shall one day build a
monument for the millions you swallowed up with words, lost to a
lunatic virus, the demon of our day that swung us to disaster, gone
is the splendor of healthy living, farewell, farewell. We must throw ourselves
a thousand shades of light, a mantle stiff with eagle talons that sink in the skin
of the innocent. The bloodstain laurels of a stalemate until the vaccine works it magic and the hour comes rasping to our hopes, not the temper tantrums of a mutating virus locked in its horizon. I greatly fear, regardless of the vaccine, the rising heat in its kitchen!
What Is Life Worth
Beast of burdens
fans the flames
spitting out
dark, morbid names
sad music plays
chaotic chords
no delays
for raging hordes
old, bloody sheets
hospital beds
time awaits
severed heads
gaping wounds seared
hot iron quick
ghastly smells
flesh rotting sick
crying out moans
warrior's pain
more each day
red-battle stains
deep dying throes
venom seeps
into souls
about to sleep
iife having fled
sorrows come
battle reds
doctors save some
cripples for life
war's true cost
wicked scars
innocence lost
rich merchants smile
gold coins clink
in pockets
as black-death winks
so far away
bloodstain earth
new battles rage
what is life worth
What is life worth?
Robert J. Lindley, 1-05-2019
Rhyme, ( On The Savagery of War)
My rent-a-friend held my vindicated words in 1 condescending song,
An exacerbated flick of her tongue, in the power of 2
They latched onto the breathlessness of 3 escaping dolphins
As they beg for release unto 4 virgin soliloquies
5 wishes for the return of my rent-a-friend
Because they left without leaving 6 comments on my vulnerable bloodstain.
So, I wrote them off like 7 hidden tax burdens.
I let their door hit me 8 ways to Moscow on the way out
But, I felt fine for 9 minutes.
10 lords-a-leaping off their encrypted facade
Their kiss did not bring me to the power of 11
Like it did 12 seconds ago
Friday the 13th was our anniversary,
Another name for February 14th
“15 ways to be a good pal”, declares social media
Until they judge with 16 lashes, when perspectives fail
17 prayers to a god that didn’t rank highly on Wikipedia,
I’m the 18th rejected apostle whose horn was snatched by cashmere heathens
19 breaths to reach for better days.
20 was the max.
©
(For the contest of the Strand: Mid January 2018)
I try to forget the NIGHTMARE that left me in pain,
All Hollow’s Eve made me m a n i c and insane-
My life was at ease now full of fear and DISDAIN,
and in this cave of v a m p i r e s I must remain.
This story of HORROR I can no longer contain,
Dracula sank his teeth and my b l o o d he did drain-
Now I am a ZOMBIE with no oxygen to my brain,
leaving on my torn clothes a crimson bloodstain.
A s l a s h on my carotid artery and a puncture in my vein,
now I am left to die, for I have been DEATHLY s l a i n.
BOO Contest
October 18, 2017
I was scolding you
You were a 4-year-old
sitting in a big chair
at the dining room table
hunched over your copybook
the pencil in your hand
held straight, halting, looking lost
as you dragged the tip across the page
that has turned into a minefield
because one more misstep
another dot out of place
would set off a new explosion
projectiles masquerading as words
from the mouth of the preoccupied father
sitting next to you
not wanting to be sitting next to you
begrudging the time
Then I saw it
onto a blank spot on the page
a solitary teardrop lands
as if in slow motion
splatters
spreads
a translucent bloodstain on gauze
I don’t know if you remember it.
I certainly do.
Will.
Hey so I didn't write this poem... At all. My best friend did and she asked me to put it up on here. Her name is Arabella Arnell and you can read this poem and more on her writing sites. Wattpad (bandhoez9194) and archiveofourown (ArabellaHorayne). Please feel free to comment what you think, and I'll show it to her.
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.
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I've talked about darkness
I've talked about pain
I've talked about demons
and I've talked about bloodstain.
but the thing that sheds light
on our bleak and painful world
is the beautiful sound of life
which makes our pain unfurled.
A single peal of delight
a flow of steady sound
an escape from the demons
in a world we can't be found.
It makes my heart race
It makes my heart hurt.
It makes my soul shudder
It makes my soul avert.
People don't understand
People don't really care
They don't see the warmth
They only see the flair.
This magical world of sound
This warm place of hope
It always gets skipped over
Just like a child's jump rope.
Music is my home
Music is my red.
Without music today
I would probably be-
Never Again
Lost down memory lane in your migraine
Unable to explain this deep set pain
Like a hurricane mixed with acid rain
From the inhumane way you entertain
Love goes down the drain in a wet bloodstain
Pop the champagne then numb me in cocaine
04/26/17
written for Contest: Rhymers delight-internal monorhyme-2
We struggle as the years fly by
Living every day in hope
Thwarted aims
Beaten minds
It is pointless to celebrate
Independence Day
And as we seek
Its comprehension
There is only pain and sorrow
We have no use for it any more
And so, it is time
To remove the waving flag
To mute the deafening anthem
To give solace to those poor people
And let them smile once again
It is time to tear apart
The defective parliament
To smother it
And to represent ourselves
Independence Day is
Soiled
Stained
A darkness of bloodstain
No washing can remove
Independence Day is
Dead
Buried
In death's cold grave
I had some terrible dark times in life,
my soul stabbed with a sharp knife;
in a sad, dismal place,
with no staircase.
I was just lost,
my soul frost.
I was tattered but I still had heart,
my kindness never did depart;
I still had compassion,
and writing passion;
that saved me,
set me free.
I am able to write about my pain,
and I pen words that bloodstain;
I just started life again,
strength is my gain.
And so I write,
ink on white.
_____________________
December 21, 2017
Poetry/Rhyme/Ink on White
Copyright Protected, ID 17- 867-832-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Best Rhyming Poem of 2017
sponsor, John Hamilton
Fifth Place
I wake up in a hospital bed,
Told I’ll no longer have use of my legs,
Its not something that can easily go out of your head,
So the thought of the future now fills me with dread.
It took a moment for my life to fall apart,
A single second where someone didn't act very smart.
Now I need to make a fresh start,
And try and not remember stupid things I took for granted, like push a shopping cart.
Using their phone whilst in the drivers seat,
Sending out a stupid little tweet,
Now they’ll be taking all the heat,
Because my legs it did defeat.
Were those words worth all the pain?
Because now my life will never be the same,
How can someone be so inhumane,
Please tell me now, please explain!
Now their life is torn apart like mine,
You never think it'll be you on the front line,
Now you’ve made all the headlines,
Because of your stupidity, sunshine.
Now I’ll never be able to walk again,
And they will always carry my bloodstain,
Thats why driving with a phone in your hand you should abstain,
So thats why I’m telling you about this campaign.
Boston Murder by a Monster
In this case, death was highly expected
As all of the jury had been selected
No matter if woman or man regardless
True point of trial no one will ever miss.
To me, this was more then being mean
It had been a horrible, terrible scene
Of blood and bodes all blown to bits
No wonder people would lose their wits.
Pictures in my mind were removed and lost
And on life itself, you can never place a cost
Regarding value or being viewed in solitude
Their lives heaven itself, they have ensued.
Lord with Your precious love relieve the pain
Remove memories of sounds and each bloodstain
And even thou this has become so hard to bare
Glad they are happy now in heaven up there.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
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