Poetry competition CLOSED 2nd September 2013 9:51pm
marielavoue (Gypsy Red)
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RUNNERS-UP: Hidden_Flame and HadesRising

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poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest


1. topic - VAMPIRES

2. genre - any ...poem, short story ...what ever....

3. you may submit UP TO 3 poems MAXIMUM

4. poems may be old or new

5. 1 week, unless too few entries
or DUP crashes....may be extended

6. if I have forgotten any instructions
please ask and it shall be added to this list.

Gypsy Red
Tyrant of Words
United States 40awards
Joined 18th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 905

The Baávanshee
“White Women of the Scottish Highlands”


Cold highland winds blow; the night is perfect,
as once a year from her unmarked grave she rises,
the Baávanshee, hunting any unsuspecting prospect.
No one dares the task to halt her awakening;
a cairn over her place of rest would suffice,
to keep her from these heinous undertakings.
She, a demonic vampire guised as a beautiful woman,
a flame haired seductress; appears to hapless or sleeping men,
bewitching them until, from their blood she has fed.
The Baávanshee beguiles with her feminine wiles,
wearing a beautiful, long, dark green gown
that hides neath the hem, feet that are hoov´en.

She feeds on the unsuspecting men
that bed down by night
in the lonely forest glens
ill advisedly out of site.
A predator without a heart,
any natural place will do,
if it is hidden away from
any bystanders prying view.
She needs no fangs to the draw blood;
sharp fingernails do the job nicely,
using her allure to close in
on her unwary prey,
their fascination insures,
the end of their living days.

She might operate within a group,
when she feels the whim,
and together they seduce their victims
with their beauty and magnificence.
They entice the men to dance,
courting them for the bloodletting,
the reason they have come;
their sole purpose for being,
to satiate themselves, the outcome.
Ahh… such sport they have,
luring weary travelers
to secluded places at night,
where they then close in and attack.
Aye! Truly a fearsome site,
their only deterrent, fear sunlight.

There is a legend regarding the Baávanshee,
where a group of young travelers,
in the Scottish Highlands,
stopped for the night in a small glade, wearily.
They build a fire and begin to wish
for the company of beautiful women,
in a manner, quite bawdy and oafish.
Just then, four stunning women appeared
and begin to dance, distracting them
by whispering naughty things in their ear.
The dance, which started out for enjoyment,
becomes harsh, as the women begin,
to tear and draw blood for nourishment.
One of the men runs from their shelter
and between two of horses he hides,
the strange women circles the makeshift pen,
but cannot seem to cross to him inside.

Dawn arrives ending the long ordeal,
he finds that drained of blood,
his companions all have died
and the women disappeared.
It is thought that the Baávanshee
could not cross to him because
of the iron in the shoes of the horses,
what ever it was he was lucky indeed,
he did not meet his maker on that fateful eve.

So the moral of this story might very well be,
Beware the beautiful woman,
Who looks…just…like…me. Ha,ha,ha

*To my Gaelo-Celtic brethren, a legend from you lands.  

Written by Gypsy Red

Gypsy Red
Tyrant of Words
United States 40awards
Joined 18th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 905

The Dark Embrace

Cold is the night and full the moon,  
deathly silent,through a window I observe you.  
I,a hunter and you, my prey,watching                
for when in your bed you will lay.                
I await with insurmountable patience            
the moment I shall have you in my presence.            
As the hours pass all grows still,            
I enter your bower and approach in silence,          
viewing your sleep and inhale deep,          
the scent of life emanates while you dream.          
Normally,my victim,already you would have been,  
but,something detains me;imagining’s? maybe.                    
In all the centuries of my existence                  
never had I felt this experience.                  
I enter with a singular objective                  
and full of intention,                  
the hunger besieges me                  
and your blood beckons.                  
Battling with my nature,                  
cautiously your slumbering body                  
I observe when in my direction you turn.                  
I realize once more,                  
the vitality at you core,                  
your blood I can almost taste                  
nearly knocking a lamp over in my haste.                  
I hear the blood running through your veins                  
and the beat of your heart which reminds me,                  
that mine, desiccated, will vibrate, never more.                    
Even feeling thus something touches me;                  
could it be possible?                  
Incapable of tender feelings,                  
what is it that stops me?                  
This I do not understand,                  
observing you with curiosity;                  
what does he possess that stays my hand?                  
The humanity within illuminates him like firebrand                  
and I, a black butterfly attracted by the shine.                  
I do not wish to destroy that which,                  
within him glimmers,                  
I would prefer to be part of it,                  
but know not if I am worthy                  
for I have been a great sinner.                    
I am a monster, for whom blood means life                  
yet a legend speaks of a possibility that love,                  
for creatures such as I, also exists.                  
Could it be that this fragile human                  
can be what my solitary existence                  
hath sought without knowing?                  
The choice, he will have to make,                  
without compulsion and born of the heart.                  
Being what I am, I could easily                  
make him love me, but it would destroy                  
his soul and be a lie I could not abide.                  
With all my faculties and supernatural abilities                  
I can only hope that he sees beyond my                  
despicable acts and my multitude of wrongs.                  
In my extended existence never, had I felt                  
this that now burdens me,                  
and, until this moment, had not known.                  
This feeling for a frail mortal                  
causes me trepidation, because surely,                  
this endeavor will never come to fruition.                  
In the moment of this deep contemplation                  
the human awakes and observes me                  
with certain confusion.                  
His first questions are:                    
Who you are?  How did you enter?                    
Why have you come?                  
I will not do you harm,I was only                  
observing your time of dreams.                  
I am called Mozelle, and I am,                  
to be sure, a terrifying                  
and bloodthirsty creature,                  
alas I cannot injure you                  
and that is somewhat perplexing.                    
What a novel sensation,                  
this feeling of refrain.                  
Something came to life within me,                  
when first your countenance, I did see.                  
Until this moment I knew not,                  
what was confusing me thus.                  
I came to clarify my doubts,                  
find the answers to the questions                  
that have plagued me with restless bouts                  
and, now that you are awake                  
I realize how much is at stake.                  
From the first moment that I saw your face,                  
you introduced my dead heart to something                  
that could not possibly take place.                  
And now that the answers have come clear,                  
I will depart this place and lessen your fear.                  
I turned towards the window to exit…                  
(He whispers): "please do not go".                    
I hesitate; what must I do,                  
(I ask) to ease your mind?                  
It would easy to compel you not to fear,                  
but very difficult that you accept my love                  
and the eternity I wish to share.                  
This is a unique gift that I offer,                  
yet the decision is yours and,                  
your choice, sadly, I must obey.                  
But be warned to accept,                  
you should understand what it implies;                  
I will have to make you as I am,                  
to prolong your life. Together we will walk                  
through the passages of time,                  
discovering the intricacies of this love sublime.                  
She lowers her head in dread of the refusal                  
that surely she must come to expect.                    
Finally he answers: "To wander in perpetuity,                  
a high price to pay for a love you                  
are not certain you can claim."                    
His heart races at the thought of her plight,                  
knowing that upon making this decision,                  
there will be no going back, after this night.                  
He ponders, and then:                  
"In an immortal I choose to become,                  
by your side, together, we shall walk as one,                  
from now and until always we shall be,                  
lovers for eternity."                  
Looking deeply into his eyes,                  
"you are sure?"                    
Assenting with his head "I am".                    
"Then an oath to you I do solemnly swear;                  
I will love you for always and a night,                  
you will be the only one in my bed,                  
my body and mind, we will share this existence                  
and our love will be eternal,                  
for there never has been                  
or ever will be another."                  
A single swift movement opened her vein                  
to offer the elixir that, to him,                  
immortality would bring.                    
A tear of blood sprouted in her eye                  
when his head in acceptance inclined,                  
“take my darling, what,                  
with so much love I offer”.                  
In that moment the pact was sealed                  
and their union they did consummate,                  
commemorating the occasion in which                  
they became a legend no one would ever forget…                  
Gypsy Red                  

poet Anonymous

Gypsy Red - thank you for starting off the competition with those two wonderful poems!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gypsy Red
Tyrant of Words
United States 40awards
Joined 18th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 905

somelikeithot said:Gypsy Red - thank you for starting off the competition with those two wonderful poems!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
welcome, thanks! I coming for the other comp too hang on!

Guardian of Shadows
United States 86awards
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5576

Blood Bank

I'm a vampire of a different sort;
I take your blood, but give you back more.

Needle in, and tube drawn out
To find out what your blood type's about

And if you have any antibodies
To ruin my workday, miserably.

For you see, with each one you develop,
Gives another procedure for me to envelop.

But I do it with honor, my duty code
With the rest of the lab techs you'll never know,

As our work is primarily behind the scenes
So that we may transfuse you with the means

To live your life a little bit longer
Until your own blood and marrow are stronger.

poet Anonymous

Gosh Madame Lavender and Gypsy Red...you two are good.....

poet Anonymous


It is a night of dark desire, a song of ethereal pain
Wolves vent their howls
The immortal one wakens

Mist shrouds her brooding form
An everlasting wrath
Her ebon hair cascades over
Pale and tragic shoulders
Her full scarlet lips part slightly
To taste the
Vitae streaming from the
Pale flesh beneath her

Now a night of shared vitality
I rise to be like her
On others do I feed.

Steven D
Thought Provoker
United States 8awards
Joined 28th Nov 2012
Forum Posts: 98

Not Sure If This Fits The Criteria But I'll Submit Anyway And If Not Then No Biggy...

In My Tomb~

Lay here with me inside my Tomb,

I made it for two, so it's got room.

The Echoes of Time thats lost reside,

Lay here with me cause all else died-


Come lay with me, take my hand and you'll see

Everyone's empty and everythings dead, so lets Dream.

Here in my tomb is a space made for two,

It gets so lonely, what else could I do?-

It's for you.

Lay here with me and close your eyes,

We'll open our minds and go inside,

Where all of our laughs and love and gain

Are not just lies and pain and shame-

In Vain.

Come to my tomb if you, too, feel untrue,

And bury your pain inside me, if you choose.

I'll gladly bare all if you just take my hand,

But if its your wish you can walk the wasteland-

I'll understand.

Lay here with me and we'll be free,

Untouched by time and all this lunacy.

And we'll fade from here so far away,

Leaving behind this disarray-

And pain.

So come lay with me, take my hand and you'll see,

This life isn't real it's just insanity.

But here in my tomb is enough space for two,

I dont wanna be lonely so I made room for you-

In My Tomb.

poet Anonymous

“The Curse of Bloodlust”
(A Vampire Love Poem)

You floated for ages
on invisibility,
in and out
of the misty shadows,
a deadly-cousin to
all the demons
of the cold barren-night.

Out of the darkness,
you succumbed
time and again
to your evil intent,
fulfilling desires
of your incessant,
never ending bloodlust.

Feasting on unsuspected souls
to fill up your empty cup,
the void held deep inside
driving you into eternal madness,
kindness disappeared in vapor,
trailing into the witching hour.

And when you spied me,
you cried,
felt a fire deeply
burning in your sweet-loins.
So sacred,
so fresh,
so Heaven-sent,
this bond,
our magic.

Still, you did not relent,
you took me anyways.
Oh, how it stung,
your precious teeth!
Oh, how I bled into you,
steam surrounded your kiss,
you cut me with x's,
licked my soul.
I inhaled your breath,
blindness was an infection,
but for a moment
in a scheme.

You broke me
for the sake of the curse,
converting me to agony
killing the spirit of affection.

My dreams are all gone,
now like you,
I walk alone,
lusting for blood,
not love.

Thought Provoker
Vatican City 1awards
Joined 6th Nov 2012
Forum Posts: 127

-The Impaler-

Ugly sunlight
Elegant moonlight,Porcelain skin shines

English flower
Dulcet rose,The beauty of crimson innocents painting the town

Your body my canvas
So young
So sweet
Dripping wet

poet Anonymous


Darkness cloaks me, and so I am His lover on this night.
In greeting, tears scream from the sky...I can taste
you in my mouth.

I lean my head back, my eyes locking with
the Heavens, with no approval on the gods

Lids close, I am yours, every vein open,
red, with open arms.

My lips part as drops of prism explore my tongue,
bringing me to color, exposed...

Drench me, let's see how wet I can become,
how the rain would be jealous.

I swallow...in me you go.....
I am thirsty, find my secrets,
slash pieces of me, broken, your

My melody lingers inside you,
creating symphonies, echoing,
inside walls long forgotten, walls
I tightrope over, stream on make believe..

Blush me on colors forbidden, the Master of
carnal creativity.

Moan with me in your mouth...go lower,
trace my trembles, find the one that hovers
in the corner.

Trace the sobs from my mouth, free them
to create more...

Body laid to rest, soaked,
silk sleeps, dreams do sway as
eyes peek for one last goodbye, closed
I am consumed, taken......

Tyrant of Words
United States 34awards
Joined 8th June 2013
Forum Posts: 1612


Reigning from his tomb in the Carpathian vistas,
In the cold frozen north where sun fears to tread.
A village of thralls worship him as a god!
Midnight feeding are a common affair
For those who dare to travel to his lair.

God or demon? Give him sacrifice
The flowing blood of little children will suffice.
Lapping at their necks before their twelve,
Sending little precious babies straight to burn in Hell.

The Nosferatu stands tall with corpse white skin
Marble skin stretched around his face with skeleton grin.
Red rimmed black orbs stare from the dead!
Mouth full of fangs, all are razor sharp
He reigns supreme, the king of the dark.

Legend or devil? The Boogeyman at night
Taking shifting forms as a bat takes its flight.
A lord of the slaughter, a master of sin
Bards in the day sing songs of him,

   “Lord Drakon walks beyond the light
   Seeking to devour
   All flesh within sight.
   He is that voice inside of your head
   Beckoning you
   To his halls of the dead.”

He has seen time go with the passing of the clouds
From deep within the confines of his shroud.
Undead flesh kept flawless by blood!
The all consuming blood suckling fiend
Is darkened monstrosity libertine.

The supreme parasite? Feeding on your life
With every drop of blood you fade.
The shadow in the night, the vermin takes to the skies
A demon in holy man guise.

Robed in dark magic, protected by your blood
He sneers at the lowly mortals tolling in the mud.
As a lord stares at his sheep!
This is the place where God fears to tread,
Drakon’s kingdom, the land of the dead.

Legend or devil? The Boogeyman at night
Taking shifting forms as a bat takes flight.
A lord of the slaughter, a master of sin
Bards in the day sing songs of him,

   “Lord Drakon walks beyond the light
   Seeking to devour
   All flesh within sight.
   He is that voice inside of your head
   Beckoning you
   To his halls of the dead.”


poet Anonymous


My soul drips in scarlet pastels,
flowering petals..

In scented arousal, you sketch,
dancing on my shadow, smudging
in onyx hues...

You find my rhythm, your lips twitch,
closer you dare, closer to find the
rainbow fallen behind your eyes..

Cold touches and I am created,
diamond tips reflect damp heat.

My skull tilts, eyes a sigh
as you drift lazily to create
my music, humming to my birth
as you indulge, darkening my
silver, awash in your feeding...

I sway in sweet submission
to your haunted mellows, body
pliant, glistening...

Puppet mastered my veins, my undoing,
tangled in red, slumbered in timeless art...

Lost Thinker
Joined 28th Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 4

                     (The Vampire’s Lament)

In the soft blanket of dust and cobwebs
In the dim, musty rooms, long empty of echoes
The air has not been stirred for decades.
The whole of the domicile seems to slumber
Settled on the bones of its structure
In a bed of the untended grounds.

Once, behind the iron lace-work an stone curtain
Once, across the deep carpets and polished wood
There had been music and poetry.
There had been conversation and debate.
The finery of those unmindful of time,
With rustle, thump, and laughter through the night.

To some it would have appeared ironically “lively”.
To some it would seem a “Celebration of Life”.
See how they dance and laugh and carouse,
Hear how they discuss the philosophy of the ages,
The carefree indulgence of those who have nothing but time
Yet live each moment to its fullest.

Beyond the still solid gate covered in vines,
Beyond the overgrown drive under the cypress canopy,
Up the wide stone steps where the lizards absorb the sun,
Through the great oak panels who have forgotten they are doors,
Down the dusty soft hallways, womb-like and hushed,
In a deep, interior parlor, he sits.

He may have sat there as long as the house itself,
Even he has forgotten how long.
The things around him are cold and inanimate.
The dances, songs, and conversation long died in the air.
In this empty room, he contemplates the still air
And cannot remember why he has existed for so long.

On his right hand rests his head, heavy with a fatal despair.
In his left hand dangles a rich red ruby pendant.
After decades, his memory stirs, the 20 year locust of the soul.
He hears dim echoes of laughter and music,
He recalls the sound and smiles of faces long past,
He remembers the stimulation of friends old and new.

He remembers the one who wore this jewel.
And how she outshone it, a warm flush rises within.
Yes, there were still reasons to live.


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