Golem Poems - Poems about Golem

Soon, O toil? Take, tamarisk? Athlete, hurl disc! Flickering fog in fine-kept frisk! Blessings in the brisk! Amiable heaven, hell: What to do about? Blood congeal and ichor gel! Set fire to the spout! Yes, indeed. And human need? We don't share their greed? Apostate, dost thou still bleed? Masses, doth ye feed? Taken, look at twilight? See lights as far away? Shark and kraken, at the fight? Squid colossal,...

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He was in love, deep, romantic love. She was standoffish, aloof, above, no need for pointless ideas thereof. It was forbidden, like fox and dove. His clay a gritty earthy mixture. Hers a sweet creamy marble picture of comfort, a permanent fixture. His secret love a proscribed stricture. So he sat at her feet each long day writing the love words he could...

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I carry vials in a pack on my back containing the remnants of my past desiccated into dust pulverized into powder At the side of the rutted road I stop at intervals as I aimlessly wander Carefully choosing one, mixing the contents with muddy water from puddles, drops of blood I prick from the tips of my tender fingers creating clay I...

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Ghosts, Hosts’ with the mostest In the House of the dead, Ghost's roam their home they once lived before becoming spirits. Crickets serenaded near their catacomb; Tree's creek buried deep in loam from the breeze. Serving Cores light and blue cheese balls to Fairies visiting from the mores. A Burmese python chasing mice on...

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Transmogrification into hideous golem like beast... Seeks to lavish adoration, especially after freshly deceased cuz, upon yar flesh I will voraciously devour thee asthma Christmas feast mee haint not a cannibal, cuz this humane anthropophagist expresses love daintily, hungrily, and with lips smacking and creased devours thee charbroiled, chargrilled, raw or greased. The above worst case scenario if you ignore serious warning and interrupt my sleep particularly during rapid eye...

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unholy earth, dark with stein unformed loam at birth; a worded child of mud, fingernail skinned blacklack eyes peek out of a ball of wet slam, a groundling that waves like a black branch across the sleeping fields, see a shadow under the cold grass, near in sight under a crust of frost...

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