09-27-2010, 06:19 PM
Hello to the GothicRomance.com Community
For the love of horror, and the respect for, shall we say ‘the darker arts‘- this is the foundation for which The Poets of Blood’s castle has been built.
The casual, contemporary horror created today, although engrossing, lacks a passion due to societies over-stimulation in this genre; leaving a trail of blood-thirsty fans to dehydrate, while desperately they search for just a drop of terror, to wet their pallet.
Where else can true, raw, controversial, horror truly be mastered, if not- in poetry. Poetry, through the ages has proven to be that which is socially taboo in outward expression, as well as excepted, and respected in various social circles. This fact is why poetry is unequivocally a suited design to present horror to those that fiend for night-terrors, during the waking hour.
On one stormy night in late July 0f 2009, two poets joined forces to search out others that share this interest. Madelynn-me, and WordSlinger. Conceived a union on the internet poetry website, OriginalPoetry.com, and a child was born. This child’s name was Alexia Osborn-username Poets of Blood.
We hunted by night, crawling into poet’s pages, as they slept- searching for those that wrote with exceptional horror- flair.
The poets which have joined her ’family’ have proven to be some of the most masterfully talented, undiscovered, horror writers to grace the internet today.
The Poets of Blood
http://www.originalpoetry.com/poet/PoetsofBlood
And they will be posting here in this thread.
We hope you find our poetry satisfying to your tastes,
We are here to share poetry, read poetry, make friends,
and expand our love for poetry.
*************************************
‘JACKâ€
Beware, scandalous maiden
For what stalks the midnight
Your porcelain neck is his covet
Death, his sexual delight
Smothered breath, My Dear
Will be your conclusion
In his grip, you'll gasp
As you satisfy his delusions
Your chapter will begin
On a fog laden path
Cobblestone steps echo
You fear you'll meet his wrath
Hurried, your pace quickens
As you peer behind you
In a black carriage he rides
Sinful deeds, your damned due
The cursed horse approaches
A prominent man's ride
Coach lantern swings to and fro'
The stage halts by your side
The door opens slow
Gloved hand, now appears
Two shillings, the price
To drowned out your fears
Unsure, you step closer
As sin's greed calls you in
\"What's your desire, Sir?\"
You chime, curtsy, and grin.
The driver steps down
Opening the door
Of course, you step in
That's the law of a whore
Inside you can't see him
His hooded cape, drawn low
Unfastening your dress
To entice him to sow
His eyes slowly take note
You lean back on the seat
Kicking off your heeled boots
;and offer him your feet
\"Play with me ankles, fine Sir.\"
You tease with a pointed toe
Yet still, he holds silent
Then you untie your cloak bow
His arousal now climbs
When you hike up your skirt
His hand moves up your thigh
As he feels to insert
\"Now that's a good, shy, boy.\"
You whisper, as he plays
Feeling his gloved hand
You shift down aways
Deeper he now drives
You move, and you thrust
His sight, on your exposed breast
Taking your heaved breath, now a must
Your eyes close tight with passion
Yes, this gentleman pleases well
Then, his cloak rains around you
He will now bid you to hell
Offering yourself to him
You brace your legs around tight
Pulling him to you closer
He plunges forth with full might
Diligent, he works
He fills you now whole
Intense, his seduction
That you, should pay the toll
He grips your breast hard
While he licks your face
Soon he'll leave you scarred
His pulse starts to race
As you both begin rapture
Six words, his voice will cry
First, he'll say,\"I love you.\"
Before he whispers,\"You must die.\"
That moment your eyes meet
His glove covers your throat
You gasp, and try to breathe
While you rip at his coat
Faster, becomes his stride
Pressing harder as you cough
Prostitution suicide
On your last breath, he'll get off
So, Dearest Maiden think twice
Before two shillings, you're bought
Beware, the dark streets of London
You see...'Jack the Ripper', was never caught!
Thank you, GothicRomanceForum.com, from us
The Poets of Blood, :X
_________________
The Poets of Blood\" Bleeding for a Cause
For the love of horror, and the respect for, shall we say ‘the darker arts‘- this is the foundation for which The Poets of Blood’s castle has been built.
The casual, contemporary horror created today, although engrossing, lacks a passion due to societies over-stimulation in this genre; leaving a trail of blood-thirsty fans to dehydrate, while desperately they search for just a drop of terror, to wet their pallet.
Where else can true, raw, controversial, horror truly be mastered, if not- in poetry. Poetry, through the ages has proven to be that which is socially taboo in outward expression, as well as excepted, and respected in various social circles. This fact is why poetry is unequivocally a suited design to present horror to those that fiend for night-terrors, during the waking hour.
On one stormy night in late July 0f 2009, two poets joined forces to search out others that share this interest. Madelynn-me, and WordSlinger. Conceived a union on the internet poetry website, OriginalPoetry.com, and a child was born. This child’s name was Alexia Osborn-username Poets of Blood.
We hunted by night, crawling into poet’s pages, as they slept- searching for those that wrote with exceptional horror- flair.
The poets which have joined her ’family’ have proven to be some of the most masterfully talented, undiscovered, horror writers to grace the internet today.
The Poets of Blood
http://www.originalpoetry.com/poet/PoetsofBlood
And they will be posting here in this thread.
We hope you find our poetry satisfying to your tastes,
We are here to share poetry, read poetry, make friends,
and expand our love for poetry.
*************************************
‘JACKâ€
Beware, scandalous maiden
For what stalks the midnight
Your porcelain neck is his covet
Death, his sexual delight
Smothered breath, My Dear
Will be your conclusion
In his grip, you'll gasp
As you satisfy his delusions
Your chapter will begin
On a fog laden path
Cobblestone steps echo
You fear you'll meet his wrath
Hurried, your pace quickens
As you peer behind you
In a black carriage he rides
Sinful deeds, your damned due
The cursed horse approaches
A prominent man's ride
Coach lantern swings to and fro'
The stage halts by your side
The door opens slow
Gloved hand, now appears
Two shillings, the price
To drowned out your fears
Unsure, you step closer
As sin's greed calls you in
\"What's your desire, Sir?\"
You chime, curtsy, and grin.
The driver steps down
Opening the door
Of course, you step in
That's the law of a whore
Inside you can't see him
His hooded cape, drawn low
Unfastening your dress
To entice him to sow
His eyes slowly take note
You lean back on the seat
Kicking off your heeled boots
;and offer him your feet
\"Play with me ankles, fine Sir.\"
You tease with a pointed toe
Yet still, he holds silent
Then you untie your cloak bow
His arousal now climbs
When you hike up your skirt
His hand moves up your thigh
As he feels to insert
\"Now that's a good, shy, boy.\"
You whisper, as he plays
Feeling his gloved hand
You shift down aways
Deeper he now drives
You move, and you thrust
His sight, on your exposed breast
Taking your heaved breath, now a must
Your eyes close tight with passion
Yes, this gentleman pleases well
Then, his cloak rains around you
He will now bid you to hell
Offering yourself to him
You brace your legs around tight
Pulling him to you closer
He plunges forth with full might
Diligent, he works
He fills you now whole
Intense, his seduction
That you, should pay the toll
He grips your breast hard
While he licks your face
Soon he'll leave you scarred
His pulse starts to race
As you both begin rapture
Six words, his voice will cry
First, he'll say,\"I love you.\"
Before he whispers,\"You must die.\"
That moment your eyes meet
His glove covers your throat
You gasp, and try to breathe
While you rip at his coat
Faster, becomes his stride
Pressing harder as you cough
Prostitution suicide
On your last breath, he'll get off
So, Dearest Maiden think twice
Before two shillings, you're bought
Beware, the dark streets of London
You see...'Jack the Ripper', was never caught!
Thank you, GothicRomanceForum.com, from us
The Poets of Blood, :X
_________________
The Poets of Blood\" Bleeding for a Cause