Dark and Twisted

Write a poem about something dark like
Vampires
Werewolves
Zombies
Witches, warlocks, and wizards
etc
But twist it. An example is my poem Vampire 2, It turns a Vampire poem into a Drug poem.

the true undead

Undead arise through black mist
clothed in filth, mud and pus
gangrenous limbs hang flaccid
legs creak as joints relax
into a languid locomotion
rags soaked in stench, reeking
piercing the bastard blackened night
oozing through deserted streets
hands move out and up
joints crack
cuff links gleam in TV friendly lighting
C-span contemplates a break
because nothing gets those old bastards moving
like budget votes
or prune pudding in the Capitol cafeteria.

- Vampire Dreaming -

Part I: Black Ballerina

Black mountains, upon a windswept night in august…
My heart is aflame with hunger and an insatiable lust!
The trees around me are dark, wraithlike silhouettes.
In my mind I picture a ballerina doing her pirouettes,
And my thoughts spin in circles, spiraling into infinity.
The night is intoxicating, as I surrender to it fervently!
Disciple of darkness, wanton and mad as time stills…
I walk the ancient path, excited by promises of thrills.
She is young and lovely, the seraphic image of grace:
Hair of chestnut, eyes black, and a blush to her face!
I feel the smooth skin of her thigh, beneath silk skirts.
We tumble through soft leaves, laughing until it hurts,
And when our lips meet, we move as one in shadow,
Hungry hearts, wanton minds, but spirits not shallow.
I feel her wet mouth on my neck, sharp fangs biting…
As I howl like a monster, ecstatic, maybe frightening.
Mad love of the undead amidst a starry august night,
Two demon lovers, lost beneath the ivory moonlight.
The ballerina does her dance upon that forest floor…
I spin with her through soft leaves, wanton for more.

Part II: Running Wild

We are running together across ravines full of skulls,
The moon is red as blood, our cries as loud as gulls.
Our hearts are beating like drums, thumping loudly…
Her grasp is as fierce as my own, displayed proudly.
I think that mists rise up from the dead faces below,
But it is spirits entwined like lovers, burning to glow.
I catch the scent of their fire and it fuels me ever on,
Their damnation is our elation, upon which we fawn.
Red roses bloom in empty jaws and vacant sockets,
Scarlet as blood: fiery bright as the flame of rockets!
A garden for our delight, a utopia worthy of desire…
But the drums hasten us along, as we blaze with fire.
Two riders galloping off in the distance, as we haste,
Stop not, to see the storm forming swift in our wake.
They escape, in time to hear a solitary animal growl,
Heedless of the ravine, where the dead faces scowl.
The storm urges us ever onward, into domains wild,
Thunder at our heels, our mad hearts no longer mild.
A crimson haze behind us, leaving an ethereal limbo,
Whilst we dance in the darkness: to our alien tempo.

Part III: Break of Day

I recline upon a mossy rock, watching the ballerina,
Lost in her rhythms, and my own mounting delirium.
As she dances with peacock feathers in her hands…
Time passes, like the swift rushing of so many sands.
Green and blue, the colors flash before my hot gaze,
Until I am entranced and drifting within a lusty daze!
The green is the forest; the blue is the morning skies.
Day has come, as the girl’s dance even time denies!
We rush together; hands seeking and finding flesh…
Our warmth as one, in the morning air: crisply fresh.
Madness in our kisses, desire in our very fingertips,
As we merge together, our arms, our legs and hips!
Soon we are one being, androgynous and perfect…
Seraphic in beauty and ravenous as we may reflect,
Upon the dance our feet perform, of life and death!
Then we separate, and each takes a needed breath.
Rays of sunlight cascade down upon the grim earth,
As my mind reels in turns: with a sadness and mirth.
I am walking in a dream; it is a nightmare to awake,
And hunger awaits me, of which I dare not partake.

And here is my second entry:

- The Red Prince’s Banquet -
Based on a dream I had on June 10, 2010

Part One: Blood at the Banquet

In dream was I, and walking thus in memories of lifetimes past,
Until in a castle of marble stone, with pillars high and serpentine…
I found myself, a prince of old in finery of the times thusly clad.
Before a table in the great hall, set for a banquet that would last,
The better part of the day it seemed, a day perfect and pristine…
For I was to be wed: and so not one person gathered was sad.
Only one of all my guests did dare insult me with wicked words,
I had a mind to deal with the fool, and I had a skill with swords!

Thereon the hour of my mirth, the fool dared mutter treason dire,
And so I took him by the neck, my eyes ablaze with terrible fire.
Unto the stone floor I hurled the traitor with all my anger’s force,
Then, into his baleful eyes I did thrust needles sharp, and worse…
I twisted them with a hateful malice until the man lived not more.
I slew the fool upon the black and white tiles of the castle floor,
Bidding the servants to hurl him into the fell moat: a traitor’s fate…
And so his bones therein to rot, with the fish and vermin to sate!

The merriment of my day was come, and passing went the hour,
Whilst the servants spoke of me as if I were some darker power!
At the banquet table I sat, with the nobility gathered to celebrate.
Then to my bride I turned my gaze, with passion not to hesitate…
Before the childlike beauty of the princess fair, her face like ivory,
Her eyes blue as azure in the sun, her lips so like the scarlet ruby.
Clothed in a gown of crimson linen, with a hood drawn back far,
The princess did listen as I spoke of love, faith, politics, and war.

Part Two: The Time-Lost Tower

Over to a balcony we walked, the princess’ hand firmly in mine,
And there we sat beneath curtain of white and red silk up drawn.
Her golden hair was radiant in the fading light of the afternoon…
And as we whispered tender things, I felt a peace utterly sublime,
That drew my contented gaze out over the old land’s grassy lawn.
Past tall pines and rugged mountains with snow white as the moon,
I felt lost to time, and it seemed as if my bliss would not ever end,
My every ill had found in my princess its’ cure, so content to mend.

I turned my gaze back to my guests, and there a shadow did I spy,
Moving amongst them unseen by all, with my own features worn…
And so I moved to give it chase, and ventured on up a tower high,
Into a room unused in long years, where old pacts were once born.
Upon the walls were crimson banners, with black dragons thereon,
A cross transfixing them like a stake through a vampire’s vile breast!
Some banners bore the cabalistic tree of life, as bright as day’s sun,
Whilst others bore a black serpent swallowing it’s tail with dire zest.

Knightly armor shone in the gloom of the chamber, and on a red rug,
A black pentagram was thereon stitched, the witch’s art of my kin…
I looked about and the shadow had gone out unto a nearby balcony.
And so I followed it until I stood in its’ place; we merged with a hug,
Whereon I was reminded of my family’s every lost and hidden sin…
And I began to feel so alone, longing for my beloved’s fair company.
Suddenly, she was there behind me, her arms lovingly at my waist…
Pushing me off the balcony’s edge, and jumping herself with all haste.

Part Three: A Rude Awakening

With horror, I felt wings burst forth from out my back with fiery pain,
And I soared above the terrible moat, towards a nearby grassy plain.
Fallen angel, exiled of Heaven and cast out cruelly by my fellow man,
I searched for my beloved who fell with me, so willing to be damned.
But there was no solace to be had, for she was not anywhere in sight,
And fleeting was the hour to come, as soon would fall a darkest night!
Soon, unto a place I reached where ruins dotted the ancient ground…
Where children played, they of every era: known to wise men around.

I called out “Little Red, my love!” but naught of she did my eyes meet,
And the children laughed telling me that none by that name there dwelt.
In desperation I searched for her amongst them, as tired grew my feet,
But she was not thus to be counted, and I cursed the hand I was dealt.
At last I called out a name I remembered of old, dreading giving it air…
But not one choice was left to me, and for myself I no longer did care.
“Lucy, is that your name, my love?” I asked, as black became clouds,
And thunder rumbled angrily from on high, as fear gripped the crowds.

The multitude of children became shadows, black and twisted wraiths,
Whilst lightning flashed and rain poured, gone was any daylight’s grace!
And so a girl in whitest linen with a hood drawn back from hair of gold,
Stepped forth with eyes of emerald fire and lips as ruby red as blood…
No longer the woman I had loved, she was a child of twelve years old,
Changed by my speaking her name, she seemed to glory in the flood.
As down poured the rain to soak the land, she beckoned me to follow,
And in a mist I was lost, finally to awaken from dream on the morrow.

Bloodied Streams, the dark love

We fly through the night.
Over all the waters of the world,
but only during the night

oh how we loath the beams.
We four are deadlier than
anything ever seen.

Tonight we hunt.

A group of people
oh they look delicious.
one of them stands out more than anything
she is so young and beautiful
her eyes looked scared.

-take her inside
a man grunts smiling at her devilishly.
Whore hunters.
She is very young.
Oh yet she looks mouth watering,
she is mine.

-hunt my lovelies.
the mistress says

We all go in taking our pick
mine was already chosen.
-Mine
i snarled at someone.
i didn't care who it was at the moment.
This girl was all mine.

-take her somewhere else.
the mistress!
i was angry at this insolent creature
she was so tempting that i snarled
at the one who created me!

-thank you.
the look this girl gave me
oh how it made me want her more.
She didn't scream as i changed and took her to the woods
her skin shown in the light as she silently cried

-now, do i get a name before you die?
my voice quivered at the word
die, i couldn't kill her.

-Kira.
Oh that name made me smile.
Kira was a fighting name not a shy one.

-do you know what's going to happen now?
i demanded pinning her to a tree.

-you are going to take away my pain.
this baffled me to the fullest.
she was so timid and this was very
outgoing what she said.

-Yes.
My fangs found the life pulse in her neck and bit.
her blood filled my mouth and made me moan.
I was hungry, and her blood tasted so clean and pure.
She didn't move, no she just stood there.

i stopped. how could this be!
No one stopped feeding!
She narrowed her eyes drowsily.
i took enough to make her weak but not dead.

-why don't you finish me!
she accused angrily stumbling into a tree.

-i don't know.
i stammered gripping her chin between my two fingers.
she was fucking insane!
oh how could sh look me in the eyes and ask about her death!
what had this world come to.
My kind didn't spare her!
We ate her for a snack!
to sate the thirst that demanded attention.

-if you wont kill me then maybe your friend will!
she spat.
why did she want death so much?
how could she want death so much.

-no, not for a while. I'm keeping you.
i said he her getting closer and cutting my neck.

-what!
she snarled.

i forced the blood into her mouth.
after a moment she wasn't fighting she was taking it willingly.
-good drink my sweet. you are mine now. and i can find you out.

to be continued

Love this. Like your style of writing. I think I'll find more poems written by you now.

Lover

He comes in the dark of night
Into my room, invited
He takes me into his arms
allowing me a glimpse
Of his dark desire
setting me on fire

Out of my room, so bright
Into the midnight sky
I follow him in flight
Marvelling that I could fly
For with him, I am
My dark lover

I know what I became
a blood thirsty vampire
For the love of him
this eternal dark desire
To live and never to die
To be with him, forever more