Mental Cases
Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight?
Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows,
Drooping tongues from jays that slob their relish,
Baring teeth that leer like skulls' teeth wicked?
Stroke on stroke of pain,- but what slow panic,
Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets?
Ever from their hair and through their hands' palms
Misery swelters. Surely we have perished
Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish?
-These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished.
Memory fingers in their hair of murders,
Multitudinous murders they once witnessed.
Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter.
Always they must see these things and hear them,
Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles,
Carnage incomparable, and human squander
Rucked too thick for these men's extrication.
Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented
Back into their brains, because on their sense
Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black;
Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh.
-Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous,
Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses.
-Thus their hands are plucking at each other;
Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging;
Snatching after us who smote them, brother,
Pawing us who dealt them war and madness.
poem by Wilfred Owen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Elegy For Lost Boys [2009]
Wander beneath blood-black skies, who art thou ravished?
Under sickly mounds of human squander; these purgatorial shades,
E’er bare hellish laughter. Wherefore wander these, tormented minds?
Swelter beneath blood-smear masks, of dead masquerades.
Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
Treading eerie Limbo, henceforth, endlessly ere gates of hell;
Scratching madly with eyeballs back in their brains,
Drowning themselves within screeching calls of Dawn’s tolling knell.
poem by Catherine Beahl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood Too Hot
I came all around the world just to be with you
Ive been flying supersonic, between black and blue
I promised I'd be there
And now I'm here and I won't go
Before I give you everything I've got
You left everything behind, just to feel that touch
To join the family of spiders. really means so much
There's a storm up in the air
It's the power we all share
When it runs through our flesh and blood
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
I came all around the world, like on flying wings
To hear you screaming out for more, still means everything
Raise your hands up in the air
I swear to you that I'II be there
I swear it, in the name of rock
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood on your hands sister
You said you loved him told him you cared
Promised him forever together
Instead you broke his heart into countless pieces
You drew tears of blood from the Prince of hearts
Hurt his pride with your insolent words
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
I saw the pain in his eyes
I felt the bitter tears that he cried
Kicked a man when he was down
You left him a broken man
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
From a loving giving sensitive Prince amongst men
You took your pleasure and stifled his laughter
You took your fill and threw him upon the scrapheap
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
But his precious tears are wasted
Wasted on a dry barren heart like yours
For his heart is alive and flourishing
Whilst yours is dead and lifeless
He is the victor
Whilst you the loser
You may wash your hands of him
But the stains will never fade
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
poem by Lilac Wine
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Arms and the Boy
1 Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade
2 How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood;
3 Blue with all malice, like a madman's flash;
4 And thinly drawn with famishing for flesh.
5 Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-heads
6 Which long to muzzle in the hearts of lads.
7 Or give him cartridges of fine zinc teeth,
8 Sharp with the sharpness of grief and death.
9 For his teeth seem for laughing round an apple.
10 There lurk no claws behind his fingers supple;
11 And God will grow no talons at his heels,
12 Nor antlers through the thickness of his curls.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Brother...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
To My Brother...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
Lifelong Bonds...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
The Blood That Binds...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
He Is My Blood...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
Obsession (revised)
to believe that there are heights to my own glory
is no longer possible.
On that day in that room, where they wear
all their thick glasses, their hands have already done
what should not have been done.
I was weak, and my mouth did not open.
They kill every poem i had in my palms.
They were doves.
They said they were bats.
Black bats.
No, i said they are the whitest doves i have.
They are even angels.
They were laughing.
Some giggled.
And they
said, 'Crucify him, crucify him! '
IT was an obsession.
That i have butterflies on my hair.
That there were
red roses in my fingers.
There were none, in fact.
What i had are mere words.
Syllables of my survival.
When i left that room, i did not admit that it was my mistake.
Far from that,
i look again at my hands in the mirror,
and i saw
vines, fragile tendrils, and they are so alive, like
dragonflies.
One understands somehow, that we write, not because we want
to have a brand, a name, a tattoo
a heart, a rose, an arrow, blood dripping
NO. That is not so. We write because we are here and our fingers
are always incomplete.
We press our palms on our chest and we say
Look i love myself, and this all i got.
Let me write and let it all be about me.Not for those thick glasses
Inside that room.Their rules are not mine.
I have mine only to give.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Buried Alive
[Venom cover]
I'm alive but dead, awake but asleep
As friend gather round and mourners they weep
My mind thinks of all the things I have done
My body is cold but my heart beat goes on
And on................and on
As they lower me down into that hole in the ground
I scream out for help but they hear not a sound
I fear at the lid, my fingers they bleed
Is this happening to me or is it just a dream
Summon the dead..........
Baphomets call...........
Blood on my hands........
"Let me out of here"
My bones are decayed, my flesh it doth rot
I'm lying in silk, take the lid off this box
My lungs gasp for air, my eyes scream for sight
I promise the rise of my body this night
Summon the dead..........
Baphomets call...........
Blood on my hands........
Screaming in torment.....
I'm felling you all......
Take heed of my plea.....
Answer my call...........
I'm gonna be free........
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood Stained
Atrocities
Made every day
Religiously
Their sins
They hide
Can never disguise
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained deeds
Blood stained lies
They wage their wars
Such profiteers
Will nail us all
Their crimes
Concealed
Despicably reveal
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained weapons
Blood stained lies
They fire at will
Intent to kill
They have no conscience
They have no conscience
Ethnic cleansing nothing more!
Blood of nations blood of war
Turn blind eyes
From all your crimes
You bare our souls
Show no remorse
You cannot wash
The bloodstains off
They turn their backs
While others
Commit grisly acts
Were scared
For life
By politicians greedy
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained weapons
Blood stained crimes
Blood stained lands
Blood stained minds
Blood stained deeds
Blood stained lies
And while such predators
Stalk this earth
Disguised as saints
They kill our faith
Obsessed by greed
Lying through their teeth
They cannot wash
The blood stains off
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace Frog
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
She came
Theres blood on the streets, its up to my knee
She came
Blood on the streets in the town of chicago
She came
Blood on the rise, its following me
Think about the break of day
She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets its up to my thigh
She came
Yeah the river runs down the legs of the city
She came
The women are crying red rivers of weepin
She came into town and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood streams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth of a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
Blood in the streets, its up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of chicago
Blood on the rise, its following me
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Murders In The Rue Morgue
I remember it as plain as day
although it happened in the dark of the night.
I was strolling through the streets of Paris
and it was cold it was starting to rain.
And then I heard a piercing scream
and I rushed to the scene of the crime
but all I found was the butchered remains
of two girls lay side by side.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
run before the killers go free
There's some people coming down the street
at last there's someone heard my call
I can't understand why they're pointing at me
I never done nothing at all.
But I must have got some blood on my hands
because everyone's shouting at me
I can't speak French so I couldn't explain
and like a fool I started running away.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
am I ever gonna be free.
And now I've gotta get away from the arms of the law.
All France is looking for me.
I've gotta find my way across the border for sure
down the south to Italy.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
I'm never going home.
Well I made it to the border at last
But I can't erase the scene from my mind
Anytime somebody stares at me, well
I just start running blind
Well I'm moving through the shadows at night
Away from the staring eyes
Any day they'll be looking for me
'Cause I know I show the signs of...
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the arms of the law
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
am I ever gonna be free
It took so long and I'm getting so tired
I'm running out of places to hide
Should I return to the scene of the crime
Where the two young victims died
If I could go to somebody for help
It'd get me out of trouble for sure
But I know that it's on my mind
That my doctor said I've done it before.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
they're never gonna find me
Murders in the Rue Morgue
I'm never going home.
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The POET from the POEM
That lady -
whose eyes can see no ordinary eyes can see,
and desolate winds crying for her name
till truth and lies are all the same;
who knows how she ate the stars at night,
yet left the old moon sleeping in the sky?
Certainly she married that awful death
only not to die.
Out of her hands there came blood,
till blood covered her flesh.
And the blood had life...had sweeter life
till blood became her flesh.
How can you know the poet from the poem,
or sift the melody from its song?
Judge me, for I'll say
that lady -
is the poet and he being the blood, her poem.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Murders In The Rue Morgue
I remember it as plain as day
Although it happened in the dark of the night.
I was strolling through the streets of paris
And it was cold it was starting to rain.
And then I heard a piercing scream
And I rushed to the scene of the crime
But all I found was the butchered remains
Of two girls lay side by side.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Run before the killers go free
Theres some people coming down the street
At last theres someone heard my call
I cant understand why theyre pointing at me
I never done nothing at all.
But I must have got some blood on my hands
Because everyones shouting at me
I cant speak french so I couldnt explain
And like a fool I started running away.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Am I ever gonna be free.
And now Ive gotta get away from the arms of the law.
All france is looking for me.
Ive gotta find my way across the border for sure
Down the south to italy.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Im never going home.
Well I made it to the border at last
But I cant erase the scene from my mind
Anytime somebody stares at me, well
I just start running blind
Well Im moving through the shadows at night
Away from the staring eyes
Any day theyll be looking for me
cause I know I show the signs of...
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the arms of the law
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Am I ever gonna be free
It took so long and Im getting so tired
Im running out of places to hide
Should I return to the scene of the crime
Where the two young victims died
If I could go to somebody for help
Itd get me out of trouble for sure
But I know that its on my mind
That my doctor said Ive done it before.
Murders in the rue morgue
Theyre never gonna find me
Murders in the rue morgue
Im never going home.
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Image
The girl in the mirror stared back at me.
Unflinching.
Eyes blood shot.
Cheeks stained with tears and sweat.
Her hands dangled weakly, swollen
and splattered with blood.
Matted hair sprung from her head and the black circles
made her eyes seem all the more sunken. Desperate.
She was small. Shriveled.
All hope sucked from her soul and left a scar
across her gray face like a tree branch
reaching for the sun but anchored by the abandoned
body of a young girl whose heart
had long ago stopped beating.
the fallen soldier of a country whose world
had fought against it. A country of Purity.
And this girl raised a cut and bruised arm
and lifted the mask from her face. Hesitantly.
The scars faded.
They left tiny white lines on my arms and face.
And my eyes cleared;
Hope glistening from them
and making my skin glow.
My hair curled softly.
My hands healed and were cleansed.
A slight pink stain rested on my fingers
My flesh was watered back to life.
And I smiled.
A weak, crooked sort of smile.
My teeth were not in their places
and a few were chipped,
but I loved the sight of that broken grin.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Black Rose
Black Rose
By: Adam M. Snow
My dreams are broken;
these words are forever unspoken.
I know not who I am;
I know I am a rose without a stem;
a black rose that bleeds red;
my heart is full of dread.
I try to go beyond this reality;
to a place they call fantasy;
to try and find myself;
by looking for a heart shaped box left upon a shelf;
for I am a black rose that bleeds red;
it seems I am better off dead.
I am a lonely lost ghost;
nevermore will I be your host.
These wounds are but a memory of my affection;
if only you could see my broken reflection.
You caused my hands to be tainted with your blood;
now I have been swept away by this tormented flood.
You left me in solitude;
all alone, cold, and nude.
I know not what to do;
all I wanted was to be with you;
yet you spoke of broken truth;
for you have showed you're uncouth.
I have withered away;
I am no longer here to stay.
I am a black rose;
tormented by my woes.
It's just like I said;
I'm only human, I bleed red.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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The Curse Of Ethnic Cleansing
Scrub until the blood flows
The skin dissolves
The bones are bare,
You can’t eradicate ethnic sickness there
The plague of death hides in twisted DNA,
Guns are born for death’s fare.
Born with covered face
Human hate spawns the devil’s floor
Never drying in the rusty blood red cracks,
Minds pierced oozing sanity to oblivion
The band wagon rides the tide of slaughter,
Eyeless skulls silent explain the facts.
The seeds of racial hate
Carried in a wind of knives spawn the hell
To lay the murders in print in court for,
International justice of sorts who in
History and past endeavours have
Never really on this plague ever closed the door.
Eyeless sculls silent explain the facts
Be-crying sadness facing forward on racks.
NB In memory of Cambodian hell, Boznia, Europe, Africa as it goes on and on What we need is a great big melting pot!
poem by Ken e Hall
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Wolves Made Of Nightmares
Pitter patter go those sharp clawed feet
I hear them padding up the street
The lightning strikes against my door
The air is sharp my lungs are raw
They raise their heads, howl in unearthly chorus
Is the devil coming for us?
The wolves cast their shadows into my room
Those shadows will surely spell my doom
I hear their claws scratch at the wood
They shriek and howl and cry out for blood
I heave my bead against the door
They bare their fangs and cry for more
A paw crashes through close to my ear
All I feel now is numbing fear
I can taste their breath on the tip of my tongue
Why now? I am too young
I risk a fleeting glance behind
and what I see drives me out of my mind
Their eyes were fire that burned deep red
I knew that I would soon be dead
A blood stained muzzle breaks through near my arm
Now is surely the time for alarm
As one their lap against my door
My bed is sent spinning across the floor
The door is forced open, silluetted by the moon
I would meet my end in the silent gloom
poem by Steffi Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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