Everyone who knows me knows that it was inevitable for me to give them a vampire poem. Vampires have been fascinating to me since I was a small child, intoxicating almost, and as I've grown up, nothing's changed.
However, this poem was actually written to show the DOWNSIDE of the undead. Vampires are so romanticized and fabricated these days -- this poem describes the TRUE life. The unfluffed version. Or at least it attempts to do so.
Fanged debauch,
cunning trickster,
whom draws the very breath
of birth
-- life --
from its helpless victim
after victim.
That
which does not see the difference
between the rich and the poor,
the good and evil;
at a glance, its lazy glare
only registering
warm-blooded or cold.
A thirst which cannot be quenched,
throat screaming
with delicious agony;
hands that cannot be warmed
by campfire light, or steam;
two eyes drowning in red,
blazing eternal anger,
filled to the chilled skin
with the blood and breath of its prey.
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
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