Long Cold blood Poems
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Farewell to Mustafa Bad reddine
We salute you
Murderer of humanity
You have received your just rewards
Zulfiqar has sliced you to pieces
Mohamed spits on your body parts
On examination they saw
The sum of the parts has no heart
You tried to fell the great trees
The cedars of Lebanon
You failed
Rafik Hariri now has you on a leash
You thought you were Daesh
Your army of hatred
Gives you Hitler salutes
While intellectuals feed you pork grinds
You are now buried
In hells fires with your fellow pigs
In morning headlines of the news today
We Celebrate
At the breakfast table
With bacon an eggs and coffee so sweet
Your death, truly was a treat
This man killed 1000’s in cold blood, Americans, Israeli’s, Jews, Christians and Muslims, for him blood was simply blood. That 1000’s attend his funeral shows you how we have yet to learn about humanity.
Rafik Hariri was the Lebanese Prime Minster killed in a car bombing in old Beirut, organized by Syria and Bashar al Assad and carried out by Hezbollah and Mustafa Bad reddine.
Zulfiqar = great sword
Love And Other Gambles
There is no gambling hall to fill that hole
That giant vacant vacuum you call your soul
There are no lotto tickets or tricks to mend your heart
Cold blood and venom make you what you are
Luck follows you in the dark
Where you call Jesus your best friend and then
Quick as lightning to step on Him
Crush His face while praying
And tell me to my face that Jesus is your savior
But behavior shows not the holy girl portrayed
Sin is your real favor and flavor of the day
I hope your luck holds out, with pretty face
And social graces in the lost and found
Where hooks and lures and smells of rotted fish and flesh abound
It is not nice or right or kind to use Christ as your favorite bait
I pray you find another fishing hole
Another gambling place to hang around
One that fills you up when you burn out
Perhaps a soul lurks there somewhere about
When a stranger calls
a star is born
within these walls
the shining
city lights
die hard
the searchers
don't look now
behind enemy lines
I walk the line
out of the past
roots
where the red fern grows
in cold blood
of mice and men
while you were sleeping
jaws
follow me quietly
home alone
where the sidewalk ends
forks over knives
shattered
where the heart is
frozen
dark eyes
guess who's coming to dinner
the day after tomorrow
the silence of the lambs
never cry wolf
in the heat of the night
my fair lady
dances with wolves
singin' in the rain
the illusionist
expelled
grease
cast away
what lies beneath
the notebook
can't buy me love
without leaving a forwarding address
back to the future
titanic
cries and whispers
tell them willie boy is here
from now to eternity
wild hearts can't be broken
before night falls
sense and sensibility
climb an angry mountain
to kill a mockingbird
we were soldiers
following
a beautiful mind
without a paddle
for love
the birds
take the lead
a river runs through it
one flew over the cuckoo's nest
when the cat's away
the mailman always rings twice
with a clean face
the empire strikes back
with a kodak
footsteps in the fog
paint your wagon
fifty shades of grey
for a little more money
great expectations
reign over me
boys don't cry
with your permission
save the last dance
for your eyes only
three men and a baby
cry for the strangers
gone with the wind
to have and have not
places in the heart
return to me
where or when
pride and prejudice
ran
to catch a thief
like water for chocolate
stolen kisses
smile
on the beach
it's a wonderful life.
Release me from this anger
Release me from this state
Release me from temptation
Release me from this hate
Something snaps in my so called mind
Frustration builds, tension mounts
Scream so much my veins collapse
Horrible thoughts, demons all about
Good but even more evil
Pointing fingers, blaming others
I can't stop until someone gets hurt
It's my fault, hate smothers
Release me from this anger
Release me from this state
Release me from temptation
Release me from this hate
Cold blood running through my veins
Why won't it leave me alone, all this pain
Hot blood running through my veins
Why won't it leave me alone, all this pain
Snap
Form:
O’ Casagemas,
what is this Heartbreak I hear,
from this woman with sagged, fired breasts
and onion hips that tell a strumpet?
This cruel, shameless voyeur
with little mind — who owns a
vainglorious torso;
a Lady Serpent, viperous!
O’ Casagemas,
this Heartbreak hurts,
running streams of cold blood at cockcrow.
We cannot be counted among men
but among lizards with tail monuments.
Veronica, Juliet, Ada or Ulu?
How does one even spell her name, with votive
words, or with streaks of bleeding ink?
Heartbreak spills from a hollow platter, gushing
cascades of heated tears.
Caustic! A ruinous fountain.
Dream.
Casagemas sprouts, a monocotyledon
on which she feasts — succubus!
Incubus at noon.
Night.
Painted on the frame of a subtopia,
this naked virago — pulse of falsetto —
weeps at the feet of the grave of Casagemas.
Morning.
Velvet roses and tailored satin, pink and white fluff
for Casagema’s Rebirth
and christening ceremony.
In attendance:
fair daughters of Eve, naked, baby-fresh and
Casagemanous, to wreak vengeance on this
hag with a fluke in her liver.
I lied, never told you the truth—
I never loved you,
my beloved Ruth.
Forgive me, if it's possible,
for the things I did impossible.
Cold blood, so bold,
seeping through my veins.
If I could hold
you, and ease your pains.
Though I'm not sane,
and sound mostly insane,
I can be the wisest—
to hold you the tightest.
I can't promise to fix
what's broken inside,
gloomy guilt and shame mix,
picking up the pieces, sitting beside.
Hoping for the best,
for you—releasing the rest.
Go, live your life,
be somebody else's wife.
You deserve someone who
would give the world to you.
Forgive me, I couldn't be
the one to see
the love, the proof, the truth
in your eyes, my lovely Ruth.
February's air is not really that frigid,
I stay warm in my fleece jacket
and insulated brown boots;
I'm also wearing a wool hat
I bought a month ago in Lake Placid,
its color is green and smells of spruces.
I have walked past pine groves
without the glowing eyes of owls,
a light breeze brushes them against
the mystical night with nebulous stars;
their branches are stiff and would be broken
if the wintry wind, taking a snooze, swept
them hard when nobody is woken.
Nostalgic thoughts make the cold blood warm,
their images appear amid silver shadows
reflecting a moonlight unsteady and vague;
unafraid as always, I go past them
not fearing ghosts or howling wolves,
and even less the ravaging snowstorm
about to approach soon. I'm thinking of Prague
where the temperature is much colder and
walking through the cobblestone streets,
one sees the magical Christmas unfold...
snow on red rooftops and Marionette Puppets.
One day heartless stood before love
with cold blood inside the veins ugly intentions
sadness thirsting warmth it began to lie continue'sly
about the deep rooted character within itself caged
The snake began to form venom in such sweet words
through a forked tongue it started to twist in pain
and wriggle boneless without soul denying the truth
to have seen the other side of this face
it hid in silence awaiting answers begging ignorance
It is not what you knew that came to light first
blindness has a tortured habit lonely within itself
casting judgements on God given rights
where values are discarded justice no longer acts
as mercy will stand before you one day
Chains are made by the wicked to imprison the poor
slave master's are racist bigots that pretend to care
good or bad merits in each lash of the whip suffering arrogance
drawing between the lines we see crazy
clearly cut it has been let loose in the world to dominate
firstly by spilling the blood of the innocent
The morning illuminated her face:
While deep in a sweet sleep she wondered why
She couldn’t see through the glowering darkness;
But in the morn she was amazed at the light –
Though she did not know that it was called light,
And where it did come from no one told her:
What does half year old baby understand!
Her eyes were beautiful heavenly stars
And her face was the morning eastern sky;
The patriots of our great country regarded her,
So the splendor of a future nation was greater
For she would be the sun-smile of tomorrow
When today’s sun would set away.
The morning illuminated her face:
But, so sad, a bullet came from the heart
Of the jungle, from the mouth of a tiger
And burst into her half a year old head.
Hear all of you: so the babe died.
Her dead face was full of sparkling tears:
The tinsel on the lifeless face, was end of a future.
Notes :Baby Samantha Pendo was killed in cold blood in Kisumu City after chaos erupted following the 08/08/2017 elections in Kenya.
Life as we know it comes to a halt
as Rain, king of April, begins his reign.
Downpours, thunderstorms and hurricanes
create chaos as he jerks our chains.
Wreaking havoc and major assault
each day is unique when Rain takes the reins.
With pitter patter or thunderous strains
he writes inclement music with refrains.
Over-swelling river banks to a fault
his work is often known to flood.
When raindrops chase raindrops in cold blood,
the clearest of streams now flow with mud.
Much like a spoiled prince's strong will,
King Rain's temper begins to bawl
with torrents of hail and sudden squall.
Ev'n weathermen's best fail to call.
Because pet plans have gone downhill,
the wee folk in our midst complain,
"Rain, rain, go away." don't come again;
as May shuts down the realm of rain.
And when summer's drought brings overkill,
King Rain still boasts, he holds the reins.
He claims that he empties water mains,
hoarding his resources, causing pains.
written April 1, 2017
24 lines