Poetry competition CLOSED 4th August 2015 4:29am
WINNER
crowfly
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RUNNER-UP: HadesRising

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Vampire

poet Anonymous

Forsaken
My soul darkened.
By all a cruel god has taken from me.
What shall I take from thee in return.
For a life of suffering and indifference.
I proclaim I shall never give the life, the blood, to a greedy god.
I will consume it all.
In that I shall live forever as a god.
Denied the fruit of the tree of life for knowledge.
I shall seek it out in the blood of man.
The more I kill, the more I tell.
That I shall never obey.
The life of the flesh in the blood.
And I shall live forever without the tree of life to sustain me.
Until such a time as God takes pity on his pathetic creation.
I shall kill as many as possible.
Possibly I will kill them all.
My eyes burn red as the blood sustains me.
Polluted by immorality.
I make myself an idol to be worshipped in spite of him.
For the life is in the blood.
Whosoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed.
I challenge a cruel god to keep the promise.
And while I wait, I shed as much blood as possible.
Forbidden the pleasures I feel and so I relish each of them.
To deny heaven the satisfaction.
The mourning sun rises and I shall rest.
So that I may strike fear with each night.
They renounce their god so readily.
As my teeth sink into them.

HadesRising
Tyrant of Words
United States 34awards
Joined 8th June 2013
Forum Posts: 1613

- - - BATHORY - - -
Tapestries and holy relics hung upon her walls
When the first winter Hungarian moon graced her form
Bathing in the blood of the victims in the hall

Devilment and merriment
Scorn with malcontent
A scourge to deliver
Flocks of nubile flesh
Into lifeless cadavers

I wish I could dine a thousand times
At your unholy banquet
Overlooking god fearing pulpits

I wish I could die a thousand times
Cradled to your frigid breasts
Suffer Lady Bathory's caress

Sacrifice the sacrament
When prayers are rent
Innocent agony
Strip the nubile flesh
And feed on misery

Orgasmic throes in the blood of twisted marionettes
I sipped from her tongue rivers of crimson delights
As she lashed my flesh with rusted bayonets

When she awakes adorned in cemetery dirt
Smelling so sweetly of the roses on her grave
Her eyes burn red in the embrace of dusk's rebirth

I wish I may pine a thousand times
To regale her with laments
To The Blood Countess I must submit

I wish I could die a thousand times
Cradled to your frigid breasts
Suffer Lady Bathory's caress

I long to feast
On your supple flesh
Laceration
Ejaculation
Bath me in your blood

"Smear your noble blood on my skin,
Elizabeth,
So I can be your scarlet god."


(c) 2015 Frank Green







ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom 28awards
Joined 10th Oct 2010
Forum Posts: 1347

Regret

Through the field I crept,
soft grasses around my small hips, horse flies a spin away, bony in the last hours of night.
Unsure and frightened and sore, I had
a need, a thirst, a hunger over my head,  like thunder.
Heavy and drumming, a stranger to myself. A danger to myself. A warmth had left me.
I could see it's veins, the flush babe, grazing in the pasture.
I slowed my steps, steadied, became a silent poacher, lifted the loose sections of my dress.
Pounced. It's eyes bulged, became bloodshot, the knives of my mouth entered it's vessel, it writhed, it moaned.
It's heart was pounding, astounding, resounding, a million a minute.
The light, the light was not playing to my favour.
I should not have savoured the chase.
Fool. The burning began, across my ebony shoulders,
up my neck, down my spine, charring, making ash of my spirit.
I panicked, searched the interconnecting green boxes for a place to hide; spotted the trough and ran.
Somehow, lifted the ton-bastard above my head and tipped it 180.
My skin flaked away as the metal slammed down from above
and French-kissed my dust of a back.
The brain lurched, forwards and laid down there in the bog of stale water
and mulched grass.
The day passed like a hurricane, thick and fearful
and I closed my eyes, passed myself back to you.
You, the 5"9, dark-haired, enthusiastic, clever, sly, witty, pale, blue-eyed Satan.
I slept, if only I could, for the night and dreamt that you were there, all hands, eyes, teeth at my Basilic vein. You were hot, with a rage I had not known, you were tired, you were ashamed
and now you were nowhere
and the sunlight was creeping
and I couldn't suffer it alone
and my body broke
and no one knew
and I thought of you.

poet Anonymous

<< post removed >>
Cvaboda
Strange Creature
Joined 24th Dec 2014
Forum Posts: 5

I thought he was a specter at first.
I saw him while walking home from work,
A cellphone in one hand, and sandwich in the other.
He dressed rather old fashionly,
Like a doll that you see in those vintage stores.
I couldn't stop staring,
And feeling my eyes,
He turned.
My sandwich and texting my husband was forgotten,
A scream in my throat that never unleashed.
I hoped he was a ghost.
Tearing throats have the oddest sound...
Maybe it was simply the sound my life escaping through my ears,
A gloved hand covered my nose and mouth.
Like the spector I became,
I vanished with him.
A pile of ashes inside a plastic bag.
I don't know why he kept me by his side for years,
My soul restless and weary of earthly worries.
He had this lazy grin,
His lips drooped slightly.
Exposing blood stained fangs.
He wore that very grin,
As he looked at my ashes and told me,
"You're the best I ever had."


ilovescarystories
Thought Provoker
United States 2awards
Joined 7th Mar 2014
Forum Posts: 159

              Porcelain

You were always here.
The red eyes of my heart.
The grey human stare from your soul.
Your snow pale skin that everyone loved to mock.
Why I choose to do what I did that night, I still don't know.
Whatever the cause may be I know my future has been erased from the stars.
And I know you were my guide.
When I grasped your  hand.
I knew your soul was cold as clay.
And I knew that when we finished this play it would be apparent that signed up for war.
For your intentions were transparent.
Yet how was I, like a dear struck by a prince.
Couldn't see your clear snare.
And how you sipped the luck from my goodbye.
And as you held my hand.
For now my soul is cold as clay.
I now know that the real vampires are the ones that hurt you the most.
Two marks, new stain, but clear porcelain skin.
You drank the blood from my soul.
But you left me hungry...
For a new soul to have.    
And so you left, with a porcelain soul.
For you could never see, that you exactly like me.

SummerSnowAngel
Strange Creature
United Kingdom
Joined 31st July 2015
Forum Posts: 1

Predator

He sleeps all day
To be a predator at night,
The darkness is his ally
Weakened by the light.

He stalks, selecting wisely
Seeking out his prey,
It’s erotic, his craving
He always has his way.

Once you are selected
You’re compelled by his eyes,
Charged by his sexual energy
And fooled by his lies.

It’s only then he’ll take you,
A feeling of pure bliss,
Mind poisoned with pleasure
Lost deep within his kiss.

Seductively now fangs set,
He takes his first hungry bite,
Draining every drop of blood
His first victim of the night.

HadesRising
Tyrant of Words
United States 34awards
Joined 8th June 2013
Forum Posts: 1613

- - - RAVENNA - - -



Beneath the flesh is another
Skinmask torn asunder
A beauty with a taste of
Savory refined blood

She awakes at the twilight embrace
Supple white in black bondage twists in graves
Excavated for an undead goddess
Godless, without the grace of His caress
The winter moon
And coming doom
Burns like righteous fury in her eyes
Putrid viscous fluids drip between her thighs

Ravenna, the lady of the mist
Oh, who's lips I wish to kiss
Please, spit me ink I can't resist

Violence stirs under porcelain
Hallowed moors in contempt encased in sin
Just like a wraith, she stalks the night famished
Seeking crimson discharge not quite tarnished
In drunken swoons
But silken blooms
I have never seen such eyes so white
That's corrupted, seductive with their blight

Teasing over emerald goblets
And sweet little laments
Her lips are pouty and full
A razor edge that never dulls

Ravenna, the lady of the mist
Oh, who's lips I wish to kiss
Please, spit me ink I can't resist

Enticing me
With thirteen black candles
Flickering in shadow
She tells me of blood procured
From battlefields
In spires and in
The pits below

Ravenna, the lady of the mist
Oh, who's lips I wish to kiss
Please, spit me ink I can't resist
Ravenna, the lady in the mist
Oh, who's lips I long to kiss
Please, keep me in eternal bliss

I awake at the twilight hour
Scarred skin, black bondage beneath her tower
Bound in wrought chains with deep pits of hunger
My ignorance has been torn asunder
Is this my tomb
Come way too soon?
A wicked smile displayed for my plight
Now I've become her servant of the night

Ravenna, the lady of the mist
Oh, who's lips I wish to kiss
Please, spit me ink I can't resist
Ravenna, the lady in the mist
Oh, who's lips I long to kiss
Please, keep me in eternal bliss


(c) 2015 Frank Green

poet Anonymous

Sorry for the delay in choosing a winner. . .got broadsided with. . .stuff.  So on to the winner:

Congrats, CROWFLY, your "Dracula:  the Opera" was not quite what I expected, yet I was impressed.  Well done!

and Congrats to, HadesRising for "---Ravenna---" which reminded me of a good vampire bedtime story.

And last, but never least, as I am grateful to the following Poets/Poetresses who entered but did not win:

Peter Pan
John Feddeler
Kou Indigo
Fillenatrix
Holly Dove
Primogenito
Harliequin
NBathory
Imperfected Stone
DarkDreams
Cvaboda
ilovescarystories
SummerSnowAngel

Thank You!

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