Veins Poems

Severed Veins Bleed on Moon

Earth bloodies the moon
its face drowned in severed veins—
harangued in the sky
for all to see Sun's disdain
in being eclipsed usurped

The heavens lament,
scattering rust into dusk,
for the blood red burns
when what's seen is black and white—
space smeared with wrath set ablaze.

A blood moon warns us
every orbit has peril,
in being dethroned
by an unyielding eclipse,
tainting our shadow of

In the mystery of night, with stars flowing through the veins of the silent cosmos

In the mystery of night, with stars flowing through the veins of the silent cosmos,
My thoughts dance in whispers on the edge of the abyss,
Like an incantation born from the ashes of forgotten time,
In the depths where dream and reality intertwine their essences.
Seeking in solitude a meaning that pulses in the evening’s shadows,
I find myself

Wilting flowers

Wilted flowers
Wilted flowers lie in empty fields
Days pass as flies scour,
Leaving the decomposing ideas to be eaten.
The sun flickers as each minute weans by
An empty shell of you left in bloody waters.
A quiet silence crowding the space your words claimed.
The once blooming pedals, scorned by your nectar.
Craving the burn you bring into my veins; no

Poetry Runs Through These Veins

There is poetry that runs freely through these veins
Authentic eccentric even society could never change.

For the poetry that runs through these veins 
Comes from years of criticism, rejection and pain

Check the poetry in these veins that runs.
Born from carrying  the weight placed on 
shoulders heavy like boulders as the world 
grows colder.

Original Poetree is

My house is a living organism, with wooden veins and brick hearts that breathe stories

My house is a living organism, with wooden veins and brick hearts that breathe stories,
The cracks in the walls are lifelines, maps of hidden worlds,
The white ceiling is my inner sky, where clouds of thoughts float in silence,
The white paint is a canvas where memories dance in unseen colors,
The dust in the corner is the

Rivers in Our Veins - Hiku 10 -

Written: May 27, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand

                 **************

  [ s~t~r~e~a~m~s  rush   t h r o u g h    u
           

Tired, yet yours

I'm so TIRED of missing you—
Too tired of thinking about you;
I keep myself busy throughout the day—
Yet —You never fade away.

Like blood —You flow within my VEINS,
With every breath; Your love remains.

You're not a Nightmare —I wish to forget,
But a beautiful dream I want to relive;
A love so deep my heart can ONLY give.

 

Home?

The meaning of home
Isn't a house
Locked in a dome
Quiet as a mouse

For they say,
"Love isn't love unless it's right"
Every day
Every night

Home for me
Is following my heart
But I can't see
Where to start

Even if
It's running through my veins
I feel stiff
Feel that pain

It must be running through my veins
Oh the pain
Never gain
But home just isn't home without you

I wish to weave my veins with yours, like two rivers joining their destinies under the eternal sky

I wish to weave my veins with yours, like two rivers joining their destinies under the eternal sky,
to let my blood flow through the corridors of your craters, carrying with it a song of life,
to drive out the deeply embedded poison, to show you how it is to breathe without the demons that tear at

Tiffany Tears

Tiffany teal tears
Cutting a face
Falling fuchsia fears
Somber with grace

You lost a war
One you adore or smile
Or was it your
Future your child

Pain paints you insane
Colors of your life
Red blue vein
Worried hair now white

Let go of sad black
Try to look ahead
Time you can’t get back
Once you are dead

The Valley’s Veins

The Valley's Veins

Where mountains weep a silent tear,
And Chinar leaves turn crimson near,
A whisper rises, soft and low,
Of stories that the valleys know.
Of voices hushed, and spirits bound,
On hallowed, ancient, sacred ground,
They rise, not fueled by hate's dark flame,
But justice, whispered in each name.
The chains that bind, they yearn to break,
For futures that their children

veins of vanity

i g n o r a n c e,
a contagious disease
turning specks of stars to stones,
burning bridges of life,
locked with names
engraved in gold and glitter,
leaving a s k y of sorrow
filled with ashes,
singing haunting lullabies
to the grieving galaxies,
as if there is no
space in the city of the clueless,
where walls are painted
    with

Rage

When rage grips over me
Blood spouts to my head 
Veins throb and pulsate with anger 
My body trembles with fury
I am a stranger to myself 
The demons take over me
My taipan tongue spits venom
That very few can tolerate 

VEINS OF SMOKE

A fragile vase, a volcano's wonder,
Mercurial temper, brewing like thunder.

Herpetic in nature, a painful key,
A brief sabbatical, one's only remedy.

Thoughts pierced my brain

Thoughts pierced the whites of my brains,
Tainted blood flowed out of my veins,
One half of me then paralysed,
My speech now completely disguised.

Why was I stubborn with the drugs?
My right arm now too weak for hugs.
Beat fast, my heart under my cloak,
Just too bad I now have a stroke.

Recovery now cost fortunes,
Drag I must my distortions,
Since

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