Exsanguinating leeches
Rich cream on ripened peaches,
Or Riviera beaches,
tickling the ears it reaches
Exsanguination is to bleed
A practice we no longer need
Now, Coumadin can quickly speed
The death of rats, poison indeed!
Like Sisyphus, his rocky hill
Now Eliquis, without the thrill
For those with fibrillations still
‘Tis clots, not rocks, the bitter pill
So now I think to bleed a leech
Might be a task just out of reach
I do implore, I do beseech
Pin down his arms, grab hold of each!
—————
h/t to Howard Osborne’s INFRA DIG
Beating a hasty retreat
Infantry overwhelmed
By a barrage
Of unremitting enemy fire.
Down goes
One of the brotherhoods of war,
Fatally wounded,
Exsanguinating;
Body riddled with bullets
Coming fast and furious.
Yet one intrepid infantryman
Does the opposite;
crawling through
The blood-soaked battlefield
Amid a volley of gunfire
Whizzing past above his head.
He's on a suicide mission,
Determined to fulfill
The "Leave No Man Behind"
Code he swears by
"I knew you'd come back for me, Bobby,"
The last words
Of his fellow infantryman,
And lifelong friend. His corpse
Dragged back through the mud
As bullets fly inches above.
He wasn't left behind.
ALL YOURS (Mar 3) Poetry Contest(Winner 1st Place)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date written: 02/22/2021
Knife-like, piercing words of contempt stab the jugular vein
Exsanguinating victim; accustomed to the blood and sharp pain...
gone numb while slowly dying a death by a thousand cuts.
Submitted for...
Strand Select E Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest (Winner: Honorable Mention)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date: 02/05/2020
Date written: 11/25/2019
The throated burn of hitching scars, fire
Like viper twists, venom and vampire
Kisses stripping the glorious breast,
Infusing a terrible harsh unrest.
Exsanguinating the blood of life, burning
Somewhere between love and yearning,
Keel-hauled on a barnacle heart alone
Where ice fused with steel and quarry stone.
And remained mocking, unforgiving, immune,
Unmoved by a pitiful stab at the moon;
A beggar’s lament crying toxic disgrace,
Flushing the dreams from the human race,
Left unprotected and inconsequential,
Sadder and weathered by experiential
Abandonment and sadism, paler than pale
At the strangling hands of a crushing betrayal.
“Got to go on,” they say. “Got to go on.”
But go on to what now love has all gone?
Set free of the garments of civilisation,
Divested in natural integration,
Dragging porcupine quills away and free,
Naked in their soliloquy.