Assignation
In the forest, out
of the way we lay
together, his wife
a pretty woman. And
in the morning, blood
and fleas, me
and not me.
Poems on the topic: blood
Poems on the topic “blood” on Poets.by.
Concentration
Think: let blood
go to ink, ivy in
the evening sing
our house to bed.
Blood tree
sprung fully formed
like a god from the lung
will you rot back
into a travesty of spring
what birds would roost
in the untuning forks of your limbs
and what would they sing
like a real tree do you yearn
to be free of oxygen
bronchial to a fault
would you burn
Wintergreen
A gray day in March
is the best time to go hunting
for teaberries—
bright as fresh drops of blood
under the glossy wings
of wintergreen,
sharp and sweet
after all those months
of frozen burial.
Old snow
Melting snow reveals old secrets.
Two spots of blood
have reemerged in the yard.
Wrinkles appear—
long, dark faultlines
from differential settling.
I know you,
I mutter to myself.
We’ve been here before.
Lost, found, whatever
A shark is a compass
that always points toward blood.
This may not seem of great utility
if you’re lost at sea.
But cut yourself & wait —
you’ll be found soon enough.
Helmsman
No children of my own, I thought
they all laughed that way—
teasing, cruel. Some poor scapegoat
forced to ingest god knows what.
Cleaning the dormitories, scrubbing
the blood from the shower walls,
my stomach contracts like a fist
around a blank coin.
Tomorrow, the soles of the state
inspector’s shoes will squeak
against spit-shiny floors.
He’ll hear nothing else. But today
I move backwards down the corridor
with the mop steering from side to side,
its wet locks dragging
an endless river of filth.
Without Sorrow
Stiff was the stringed bow as it was laid to rest
Upon the pile of ferns after a long hard test
The quiver empty and the arrow about
The beast had fought, yes it was stout
A hunger had settled upon my community
Til it was left only to me to do what I could see
To make it through the winter
A puff of smoke from my mouth stood starkly in the air
Reminded me of last night's frost and the snow in my daughter's hair
It's not a woman's place to hunt for her families table
A husband lost to a war so unstable
The blood stood bright against the white of the snow
Warm almost comforting against the sudden cold
I cut and I skinned right straight to the bone
* * *
Throwing out the letters written to you
In my blood,
Is both the most relieving thing,
And the most heart shattering thing.
Signs of Love
You said you loved me.
Show me a sign.
A smear off your lips
A smudge of your tears
A smell of your scent
A stain of blood from your heart
On these pages of my life –
That you shredded with your scalpel…
Tried
"I tried, I really did
it was never enough
but now i don't wish to try anymore
i just wish it would stop"
the mother read out surrounded
by her daughters blood.
A sight
When the crime,
Is complete,
There's no turning around.
You can't return,
To the past,
To the present you're bound.
Stains on your fingers,
Reminding,
Of your act.
But all the blood,
In the world,
Can't take you back.
Though it hurts,
To witness,
The results of your deed.
These are all,
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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