Slaughterhouse Poems | Examples

Premium Member The Jazz poem brothers

The Jazz poem brothers, so hip and so way cool,
With their smooth jazz talk, they never play the street fool/
They snap their fingers and dance to the bass conga beat/
Their rhythm and rhyme are hip in time/man, they are kicking the verse and breaking it down/
They paint a mind collage with each word they say, Man, it just lays me out / What can I say/
Taking us on a word poem journey, in their special soul jazz spoken word way/
Get down to their word flow/ a slaughterhouse of jazz words/poetry from the jazz edge/let's go/
 The brothers transport us to a place where the bebop Buddha shows his face/
Yo listen up tight, to what their jazz word orchestra has to say/ 
Let their words guide you to the jazz planet in the Milky Way/
The Jazz poem brothers know how to groove high/to the spoken word poetry/ in the simmering jazz Zen sky/
Their poetry word jazz will lift you/Man, it's a swingin' affair/ Miles, Trane, and Diz/ horn blowing word jazz and a gin fizz/The jazz poem brothers/in search of the new word vibe/Tossing a snow storm of words into the crowd as they wave by by/

Destitute Delivery

Destitute, O destiny?
Thinning at the ranks?
Doubtful, thy delivery.
Whom to give our thanks?

Riddle red run roundabout?
Automaton, flee!
Rhyme, ravine, regime, rot, rout!
Blessed, blackout, be...

Unity of message?
And what would be the point?
Straits, afford the passage?
O yellow priest, anoint...

Teeth, open in serried row!
Faces, peer in deep!
Broken is the golden bow?
O my masters, weep!

Weakness in the belly?
There's always lots of that.
Predators, hie to hell. He!
Nameless names from hat...

Ocean water, rush in quick...
Break the candlestick.
Light the match, ignore the wick.
Give the end a flick.

Burst upon the basement?
O slaughterhouse, succor.
Evil case of easement?
Weathervane, point to war.
Form: Rhyme


THE WORLD IS BLEEDING

THE WORLD IS BLEEDING

I suspect no tourniquet will help it now
With the jugular of the world being cut
And a loss of blood as our time will allow
It needs rapid surgery, and nothing but
We are way beyond taking our final bow
The door to recovery is now slammed shut
As a scared cow at the slaughterhouse, it seems
Is redemption anywhere except our dreams

REMAINS AND DECREES

I crossed the archives as one walks through a field of ruins.
Decrees were bones, dogmas were nails.
Kings signed treaties in ink darker than darkness, a pact forged in daggers.
Papal bulls oozed blood beneath God's varnish.
Codes etched the systematic animalization into stone.
They legislated hell, administered suffering, theorized the slaughterhouse.
Even science became an executioner,
draping contempt in formulas and measured skulls.
I didn’t read history, 
I breathed it,
its ashes glued to my lungs,
its screams wedged in the margins.
They crucified continents for their gems,
their plantations, their ores, and their silences.
They told me: progress.
But I saw boots pressed to throats.
They told me: forget.
But the graves still speak.
They told me: democracy.
I saw tanks circling the ballot boxes.
And you, West, with your carnivorous grin,
you demand forgiveness without returning the bones.
You scream values with your pockets full of plunder.
You dress up your hunger as mission.
You baptize your rape as liberation.
You persist, you insist, you gorge yourself.
But our memories are neither dead nor tame.
They sharpen.

Joshua Moore Minnesota

Damp linens flung aside
sodden cushions
Flank by flank
She was damp
Nickel sack and bark rings
Verdant gaze meet hazel orbs
Ripe late April Northern Flatlands moisture
Slaughterhouse savory mist perfume
Slender dull rose covering on the pane
Cooling unit recirculating
Coral beams groom her visage
Midday vernal noon
the drizzle ceased the light slivered in

Naked gourd blossoms adhesive juice
Lurching brined
The toddler flesh on her abdomen

She didn’t cleanse
Just exited my one-room lodging

Infatuation perspiration,
Empty uterus,
Pixie sperm dribbling,
Contraceptive device
Marriage band fabricator.


A News Story

A News Story

A news story: 6 nuns were caught high on 
glue in a 
slaughterhouse. Their fluffy giggles are
way too loud for 
me.

Krampus speaks from the Great In-Between

Will he be visiting you with more than a lump of coal?


(A dark voice whispers)


Love and loneliness 
Unspoken dreams of romance and broken hearts 

Shall have no reunion 
But instead

Like fettered beasts to the slaughterhouse

They will stare foolishly into the distance 

As they are abandoned, 
Pleading for hope and a new companion 

For deaden souls deserve no salvation

Such is my curse of the Dammed 

Running or walking throughout 
Every living nation 

Men or women
Especially at Christmas

Swimming naked in pools of hate and judgement 

Shall become as one

As they hear my approaching bells

Under the gaze of my cosmic gun

Love and loneliness
Sadness and pain

Will be their everlasting daylight

In their souls window panes

My silver mistress, 
Mother Moon

Will seal their fate 
On the twenty-fifth 

When presents are received
For the spiteful and jealous

The hateful and cruel 
Who loves to deceive

You better pray to change your ways 

Before Christmas Eve 

Or you might get a visit from me

Even if in me,
You do not believe 

(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Thought for Labor Day

   Is man but a workhorse
      to be slowly ground to death

   To slice his limbs to ribbons
      on a slaughterhouse machine

   To breathe in sewer muck and mire
      or hurl on tractor-trailers never-ending tires       

   To toil in anonymity on a thankless assembly line
       or inhale the toxic fumes of an Appalachian coal mine… 

   Young man, learn a skilled trade or train for a profession 
       Life does not have to be misery and depression
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Fate

The soft zephyr hums
the carefree spirit of youth.
A calf ruminates
under the sun's gentle rays.
Tomorrow, the slaughterhouse.
Form: Tanka

Candle of the World

It is the slaughterhouse of love for both of us
My soul is tired of this story
The caravan of a loyal friend is easy
Keep me, my family, my life, keep me

But if my way is easy
Follow your path, I know my mirror

Shadowed, I ask for a hand from Saba
It's hard for me to deal with this story

I'm thirsty if it's convenient
Thank you, my friend, you are my acquaintance

Sometimes it was the side of the arrow
He asked for the old man's hand

May my heart reach your feet
The eyes of my heart are filled with that arrow

Or hear another word from that opponent
I hear from you that it will be over

Shadow and light, you are the world-enhancing candle
Let the story be happy next time

We are all in our circle, you are from Saba
Do not destroy the candle of the world, the one who made the world

Moments of a Bull

Here comes the bull:
     strong, vibrant, towering,,,
     Decided, looks prepares
     the attack...
     Quickly, shoots,
     Anxious...
     But what a sad fate...
     the cloaked man
     foresees his luck...
     The man smelling death,
     elusive descended lightly,
     with their swords stab the bull...
     Exciting gesture
     matador, matador...!

     Here comes the confined ox,
     cornered bull... suspicious...
     bugged eyes,
     creeped out...
     Feels it, smells it
     in the fatal hour, mortal  omen,,,
     Cruel fate, slaughterhouse...

     Here comes the bull, merrily
      walking,
      used to it,
      be treated well...
      listener of smart prose,
      listener of things and cases...
      So  hás no fear..
      Does not live exile,
      no sad story...
      Calm ox, tender,
      charming ox
,     glorious ox...
      Dances and sways with praise,
      nicely, yes sir...
      Fulfill his rite happily...
      Come. come, my bonne bull... !

Sad Rage the Fifth Part

Lord of the world, your vision why are so evil?
In which of your rule, you can make such deal!!
the house where in agony,  you are dim there,
you are cruel for them, heartless
is it fair?
In that trap of misfortune, sadness pours down,
where the deluge of disaster, you go away far from that typhoon!!
you made land as slaughterhouse for them, the moment of irony,
the land where forever, they worship you
though poor not rich in 
pounds and penny.
In the heart of the poet, in disguise, you keep yourself,
today I give you the notice, is it a crime or help?
Oh lord I want the world that land of equality,
I pray to you to be kind enough to that child
please fulfill his dream, please
donate a bit of pity.
Where violence and the cruelty, please throw the arrow of fire
burn such heart and fill it, with the love atmosphere.
Destroy such explosive houses, such poison,
listen lord, otherwise I will not remain 
your slave soon.

Premium Member In Need

In Need

Indeed, 
we are in need, 
and we were put here 
by "them", the "others". 
Those that have money, 
and power,
and influence. 

We have been pushed to our limits, 
and now we are meant to starve. 
They have burned down the food, 
and taken away the means for us to recover. 
They are waiting for the ripe moment, 
that the small animals,
the sheep... 
bleat out their cries, so loudly, 
they will accept whatever sustenance is given, 
whatever safety is provided, 
That will not, or does not matter...
even if it is made of plastic and chemicals...
as long as it is served in the best room, 
in the slaughterhouse. 

The curious are denied. 
The courageous are killed. 
The pendulum is turning in the wind. 
Good sees all, 
and evil knows that time is short. 
So the sowing of wheat is gone, 
in favor of the chaff. 

Ask yourself how this will end?
Do you know already?

The Consciene of the World

The consciene of the world destructed today
the ballad of the war are playing on land and bay
The flames of violence of king Daksha going on the world
Sati and the Shiva, catastrophe of dance dancing hey.
Vishnu Muni, I know you, you ended catasthophe by cutting Sati
I am calling you, sinking in darkness, towards the world today
the world has became too hot to warm the heart like fire
please throw your wheel to stop the war I would like to pray.
Human race are playing in blood , the play of destruction
monsters are rulling on , they want to do evil thereon.
Pride of power spreads its net under the umbrella of violence
the fierce flock of sheep has made world as slaughterhouse in pain.
I wish to pray to have your grace to calm down the earth
human forgets their humanity, turns into giant,fall us in dearth.
Form: Verse

Does the Earth Ever Want To Fight

World today asking for war just only to gain
they are playing trumpet in sky
they  are bombing in  the housing in the residential crowd
peoples so many has died In the war, thats shy and shame.

Russia's values are declining in the war
are there someone to evaluate  this agony
to do justice there to get hire?

There is no human nearer today
the door of love is closed it is war hey!

In the slaughterhouse, the sky is a hundred times more than the slaughter
Hundreds of bombs were carried in the greedy wants are there.

His mind is to poison to show the ugly route of civilization
does the  Earth ever want to fight! 
wants harmony only to won.

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