Its way of being salient-
And so picturesque with bloodstains
On its edges.
Its way of being so united-
And so whole with fragments
In its core.
Its way of being so innocent-
And so angelic with rust feeding
On its being.
Its way of being so joyous-
And so blissful with despondency eating
At its soul.
With flame to it,
And such spirit to it, there’s-
Much acedia thriving.
With humility to it,
And such amity, there’s-
Much superbia thriving.
With satisfaction to it,
And much contentment, there’s-
Much avaritia thriving
With candour to it,
And much modesty, there’s
Much calliditas thriving.
Its fumes, when do vanish-
They do vanish wholly to
show the nymph it is.
Its tenderness, when does vanish-
It does vanish wholly to
show the scales there are.
Its carnality, when does vanish-
It does vanish wholly to
Show the bane over the wine…
Where harmony hoards the supposed hurt,
Symphonies belie me.
I rein myself in to not be curt,
But noise surrounds me.
Where time heals the freshly toiling,
I have old, murky bloodstains
Yet no one sees how quietly I'm boiling
Until the tipping point I shall hide my pains.
Why such a discordance in my disposition?
I desire to mourn the impact of this tyranny
Is this prophetic or an imposition? It's difficult to overlook the irony.
Someday I will explode, not implode
A magnetic, magnificent starburst.
For now, continue, continue to goad,
But this cacophony will not halt my bloodthirst.
Pray to keep this summer eve
Rest your weary, aching back
On the dark’ning must we leave
To press our next attack
Rest your weary, aching back
Maelstrom fighting fierce awaits
To press our next attack
To be the masters of our fates
Maelstrom fighting fierce awaits
We falter and we fade
To be the masters of our fates
Our bloodstains on the blade
We falter and we fade
Though our aim be ever true
Our bloodstains on the blade
Reflect the glow of day anew
October 4, 2024
statuesque thy porcelain - so bright/or pure
art thou hung as in some sacred place before
a trophy to the human form; desire paramour,
and thus, ‘twould sing sweet songs of grace, adieu.
in museums, thy pulchritude doth abide - it flys
to be viewed by those who pass by - day/night
but in thine eyes - there lies a story - hidden - within
that tells us all of love’s deep play; to an untimely end
lachrymose fountains ribbon, splatter sanguinary drop
countenance in quicksilver, snarl-like smile washes visage
some places bloodstains don’t come off, covered in spots
transcendent shots thy kiss of life, sen en met, when death stops
WILD CAT, RIP IT APART ONCE AGAIN
Been a while I tasted it raw
Taste of a living flesh full of blood
My claws are itchy
Craving to rip off the furs and pounce on the flesh
My fangs and rusty
Need be oiled by the drippings
Mouth drooling the hunger is as large as the flesh
I just wanna rip the flesh again
Like a snow wolf after the winter
Too long a life without a feed
Many nights of hunger and thirst
Long curvy fiery claws
Guiding the wooly paws
The wild cat's whiskers are overgrown
Yet without bloodstains in a while
Seasons of cold and hot
Nights of starving and days of thirst
Big cats of the wild
Rip it out and eat from the middle
Howl louder big wild cat
Lure your mate out of the woods
Feed on the familiar tasty flesh
Your favourite of all delicacy
Lick the fluid off your whiskers
Flex the powers in your right limbs
Stretch out the veins and let them pop
Chase and make a catch
Pant in awe of your satisfaction
A well deserved meal after a while
It is time to rip it apart again
“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” — Maya Angelou
Dark thoughts offer me great despair,
sparking rhymes who say I don’t care,
shadows drift across moonlit lanes,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
Dismal dangers breath twilight’s tears,
aching, trembling ‘til the smoke clears,
tossing, turning, all that remains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
Nightmares sing into the distance,
haunting souls with such persistence,
lingering doubt, whines and complains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
When I see Him, in His glory,
recall that precious love story,
my heart trembles at the bloodstains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
Fear and trembling threaten my hope,
feeling like I simply can’t cope,
but He comforts, with His refrains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains
Wisely, He sent us His Spirit,
past or future, we’ll not fear it.
He saves us despite binding chains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains
MAGNIFICATION
Close up, this project is now done
That’s what they said an hour ago
But it’s so strange what I see here
An alien blood cell it would appear
I wonder, who else might ever know
My research is over before it’s begun
Samples taken from what they found
The last batch today, maybe forever
At high magnification, it can be seen
This would make blood quite green
I’m just a lab assistant, not so clever
Hired after that spaceship was downed
But this microscope is state of the art
And I can see things moving I’m sure
But equipment is soon to be packed
And none will know of this, in fact
Some liquid leaked out on the floor
It’s been sloppy from the very start
There’s no-one left for me to tell
Just some guys waiting to pack up
An alien presence is here on earth
A story, and I know what it’s worth
I’ll keep this slide safe as a backup
Maybe it is a secret that I can sell
Reluctantly, I leave the microscope
The box of sample slides in my bag
They never found any of the crew
Just some odd bloodstains, it’s true
So I’ve dropped off my identity tag
They’ll never trace me now, I hope
You say you care
You say know
When I needed you
You say you was there
You don't know
you wasn't there
You didn't care
you wasn't there
You wasn't there
How dare you
Say you care
You never cared
You was never there
You wasn't there
You wasn't there
How dare you
Say you know
You'll never
ing know
You wasn't there
you wasn't there
Nobody believed me
Nobody was there
Nobody knows
Of the knowledge
I must bear
The bloodstains faded
But the pain is still there
Like a recurring nightmare
You promised you sweared
when I needed you the most
You wasn't there
You wasn't there
Now, I'm dealing with mosquitoes!
All about standing on my toes,
Refusing to accept the throes;
Back to Mosquitoes bad death throws...
Harsh hand claps to just have one smashed,
For if I did not would be lashed
Upon entries into net cashed
Their bloodstains on it shall be washed...
In water troughs would meet their eggs
And - guess the next - use my legs...
I never could be a lover
Of studies of their Larva:
A part of Africa's rude woes
Each gaped gutter that flows!
Not a sad chapter she might close
Or the day she does The End close.
They had to notify and call it in.
They had to cordon off and begin.
Apparently, he was middle-aged.
Apparently, he was married.
Apparently, he was a father.
Allegedly he had a mistress.
Allegedly he had left his job.
Allegedly he had embezzled.
A gun was found in his mouth.
A hole was found in his head.
A note was found by his side,
by the bed.
No one knew what it said,
until it was read
The note was unfolded,
bloodstains decoded,
a message behold-ed:
“Who could have known
I would end up in a cheap motel
with a TV chained to the wall,
with a nickel plated gun,
and a bottle of spiced rum;
just a hell of a thing.
Just one hell of a thing.
Just one hell of a damn thing” it read,
“and me without a clue
alone in a forking town
called Kalamazoo.”
UKRAINE
You reign!
You do not fight in vain
Don’t let your strength refrain
Do not feel disdained!
I’ve seen the bloodstains
Spilling out like rains;
I may not feel your pain
But I see the slain
From missiles on your plains...
It’s sad to see you cry
When others rise with smiles;
It’s sad to watch you fight
Alone in your plights...
All I’ve done is pray
While the weapons slay;
I’m crying like a baby
Yet fleeing like a lady
I care but am scared to dare
For history thought us there!
As the children run
Teen-men uplift their guns
While the women mourn
When the shots are gone...
Hashtags everywhere
But no one out to dare!
While the worlds still watch
And say they love you much;
Yet, do not feel disdained
Don’t let your strength refrain!
Victory till again you reign...!
Out into the wilderness haunted by ghost town’s ancient bloodstains and lost history scars.
We wander the dark borderlands between awakening dreams and incandescent seams.
The strip malls and vacant parking lots the dark roads aline by engine fire towers Blazing.
Burin Bright into the American night like lanterns adrift in some ancient wilderness.
Stone towers reach into the dark of a metropolitan empire and fires in eyes of Valhalla climb…
Like the soft death it comes to all in the night of harsh sleep, into the wilderness of the haunted.
Ghost towns native lands run with volums of deep
black blood primeval it seeps as wars lie between.
The wounds of now n then, the history that cuts between, we dream of neon, Walmarts ancient parking lots.
Canyons in dark metropolises burns deep stars drift like lanterns unmoored in the wilderness of some mad American Empire…
I grieve bloodstains upon your heart
I bleed out red dread of angsty art
Angry as a shark of envy…
Seeking prey viciously
In love with catastrophe
Grief-stricken drastically…
Paint your skies red wine, exceedingly RED
Toiling, vermillion souls fed upon it instead
Slit skin
Blue vein
Silence in a room shut in
Cutters pain
Mercy for an end
Over and over again
End just to begin
Angels and bloodstains
Heaven's trade in
One dying wish
-e.g.
into the wilderness haunted by ghost-towns
And ancient bloodstains
and lost history of scars
we wander the borderlands
between the weakening dreams
and cities a neon seams
Burning into the American night like lanterns
An empire in a wilderness mad with desire
like the eyes of a God in vast Valhalla, a fire
out here, out here into the void
Into the world
The wild wilderness of one
A great rocker once said,
“Out here along the perimeter…”
“No stars…out here we (are) stoned Immaculate”
Cooled by the coming dawns frost…
a soft death lingers Cascades
In history scars
Mark by the ancient stains
into the wilderness of haunted ghost towns
and native lands history sears
Deep between dreams of neon
it burns black into the abyss
of broken cityscapes and fears
asleep along the horizon rim
Fire like lanterns adrift on the cool breeze,
Into the wilderness
of some mad American empire…
“No stars…out here we (are) stoned Immaculate”
Thanks Jim…
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