POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2 ~on the slab~Drawled and quartered laying on the slab, |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2hails inkmaster |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2 — A Gothic TaleA Gothic Tale Last edited by dahlusion 10-01-2010 at 04:29:28 PM |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2dah - you do dark very well! Excellent - |
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RE: RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Quote: oh, my! Thank you Kah, I am flattered... |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Love is Eternal Last edited by KellyRedhead 10-02-2010 at 11:06:57 PM |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Scarlet Libation |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Hi Kelly - really love your new posts - great poems! Especially enjoyed Scarlet Libation - Last edited by kah 10-03-2010 at 11:40:53 AM |
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RE: RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Quote: Originally Posted by kah Hi Kelly - really love your new posts - great poems! Especially enjoyed Scarlet Libation -  Thank you so much :D Kelly |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2EPHEMERAL |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Cut me deeply, scour my breast. |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Wow, Vicereine! :D The word to describe your poem isn't "lovely" nor is it "beautiful." Hmmm...*thinks* Last edited by KellyRedhead 10-03-2010 at 02:31:49 PM |
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RE: RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Quote: Originally Posted by KellyRedhead Wow, Vicereine! :D The word to describe your poem isn't "lovely" nor is it "beautiful." Hmmm...*thinks* Aha! It's gloriously morbid, that's it! I love it. And scary as hell, too  Thanks Kelly  Rare moment of it just coming to me. |
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RE: read dark poetry at 2poemsforu POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Hey Poet's of Blood, |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Silent Echoes |
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Blood Mortar
Last edited by WordSlinger 10-11-2011 at 07:10:58 PM |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2 - Blood Mortar
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Lights Out |
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RE:Blood MortarHoly crap, WS - that was an intense story!! Loved it - music fits! Wow! |
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RE: Blood Mortar
Last edited by Dark 10-10-2010 at 10:22:33 PM |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2I can f'in deal with them pasta boys too!!! Give me three nights!!! I'll post and all u can edit here before!!! |
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RE: RE: read dark poetry at 2poemsforu POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Quote: Originally Posted by ginga Hey Poet's of Blood, Come to 2poemsforu and read "The Dark" and "The Abyss" and comment. Halloween is dark poetry month at 2poems. Please come and read the Bio, grab a partner and submit. Thanks! Go to 2poemsforu ginga  The Poet's of Blood have infiltrated 2poemsforu. Two brand new posts titled: "Blood Mortar" & "Duet." This is a creep show poets come read and comment!!! 
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2 2poemsforuPOETS OF BLOOD come to 2poemsforu |
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RE: Blood MortarQuote: Originally Posted by WordSlinger Blood Mortar The sizzling of breakfast was louder than any other morning. Daryl was out late, and snuck in a few hours ago. In bed, and tired his mind was awake, thinking of the winter polishing the icy, plated gun. The light slowly cascaded across the ceiling. The shaded window could only hold so much of it’s power back. The alarm clock stretched an electronic voice, and simulated Johnny Cash’s ‘ God’s Gonna Cut You Down’. The lyrics were in the second verse ‘ I thought I heard the shuffle of Angels feet’. ‘Daryl are you awake?’ his wife Yvonne asked’ After a few seconds ‘Ah huh- ‘No rain today. I’ll have to do the Kramm repair today. “O.K., biscuits and ham again? Asked his wife. ‘Your new over-alls are on the stand, and your blue flannel with the rest of your clothes are on the dryer. ‘O.K., sweety. ‘Von, I should be back around Three O’ Clock. The job is in Cedar Hill’, said Daryl. O.K. do you want me stop at Kenny’s, and ask him for some of peach cobbler Michelle made last night. ‘he he yes hun, replied Daryl. Daryl put his cigarettes in his pocket, and grabbed a few biscuits and ham. He kissed Yvonne goodbye as he left out the door. Yvonne said, ‘say your grace Daryl, say your grace.’ The truck looked like a horse needing a good riding. It’s been so long cooped up in the last few days, so dreadful. Daryl thought that he needed to pick up materials for the job, so he stopped there, and then down the highway he went. He lit up a cigarette, and by darn the same song was on again . ‘God’s Gonna Cut You Down’. He loved Johnny, so he turned it up. He arrived at the Kramms. He then remembered they were out of town, and thought, they’ll be back tonight. The song stopped playing, and the weather came on. ’Rain showers again tonight’ Daryl thought, I better get this job done for sure today. Daryl parked the truck behind the house. The back yard was full of thick trees, so he parked in the shade. He untied the ladder, and set it up next to the chimney. He put on his tool belt, and grabbed his shin-dig, and started up the ladder. The feeling of true freedom filled his soul. He loved roofing always has, always will. A cigarette is custom when tearing off as the muscles fought gravity. He laughed inside. The day just lit up, and the sun said come on all of life, lets play. An hour has gone by, and Daryl torn off all the shingles and flashing around the chimney. All he had left was to remove the power vent. He hated power vents, because he had to disconnect the wires. He un-fastened the vent with a flatbar , and out it went. The wires were all that was left. He thought to hell with a screwdriver. I’m country. I’ll use my pocket knife. He reached in his pocket, pulled it out, and began un-screwing the plate. He then dropped the knife. It fell on a box in the attic. He said, ’Damm it‘, so he looked, and seen he could possibly reach his knife. He tried, but he couldn’t it. He thought no, no, no., maybe if I stuck my head in, and arm I could reach further, so he did. As he reached he heard a rustle, and it got louder and louder, he felt a rush of fear. He pulled back out, but was jammed. His shoulder was stuck, and as he jerked his neck exploded with pain from the quick strain. “ahhh’ he moaned. He looked and seen the glow of eyes, and heard growling. The eyes stared at him,. He seen them advance closer. Something tore into his left cheek. He spas’d out. He fought to get out of the vent hole. He screamed and screamed. He was stuck, he seen what was attacking him. Raccoons, a pack of full grown raccoons. They tore into his hand and arm. They took turns jumping, and biting his face. Fighting to climb up his arm. Slowly, slowly the sight of blood and bone diminished from his view. The sound of gravel being spread from tires echoed as far as the raccoons could hear, so the coons backed off the bones of Daryl. The Kramms were home finally. Home and hungry after a long ride from the Smokey Mountains. “Timothy, precious, I’ll make us some chili, I’ll have it ready soon“, said Jacqueline, Mr. Kramms wife. Her eyes looked like coons eyes, from insomnia, tears, and blows from her worst half. Timothy, check the weather channel the sky is dark, and rain is near. I hope the roofer you called, came. Did you check the answering machine?” “I’m doing both now” Thunder drum that very second, and you can hear the sheeting rain right after. “No messages, and the radar is red for miles, so we are in for a flood. Here is your ice tea dear, and some chili. Let’s watch Andy, passionately said Jackie. Tim, shook his glass full of ice, after guzzling it, turn off the lights!!! Jackie was his slave. As the darkness cornered them, a slow drip fell from the ceiling. The volume on the TV was load. The drip increased in areas. Tim wore a ball cap, Old as the show it self. When Jacqueline returned she noticed Tim was covered some what in blood. She smiled here’s your tea. I’ll be right back, I’m going to cut us some pie. She returned with her favorite knife. As Barney was acting like a fool on TV. She looked at the sliding glass door. She looked at Tim’s throbbing neck. Then she stabbed him with all her might. And said "You hateful prick, how is that?" She ran to the door, slid it open, and called her coons in, "Come and eat my fur-children." I wonder if I could train the raccoons around here...or the boatloads of coyotes? I like your story, WordSlinger. Just another day in the country :D Only problem is I now want biscuits and ham. I grew up on Southern food; I'm a Southern belle. |
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RE: POB Bleed for a Cause Volume 2Thank you Springy, Kah, Wes-Dark, Kelly and Artie. |
Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.