The Poetry Marathon

A Vampiric Tribute

A nightmarish canvas is flayed before me,
Her responses swift to my lover’s desire,
Preparing to sate blood and fantasy’s dichotomy,
She falls into the bonds of my unrepentant Dyer.

Tarpaulin shackled and dragged to the tomb,
She struggles and kicks like a rabid dog,
Chained and tormented under death’s loom,
Confused she twists and dances in the smog.

You draw from her suffering a wanton mirth,
You draw from your ring, a talon like shank,
You draw from her throat her life force’s worth,
You draw from my essence an evil so rank.

We feed on the outpour, crimson’s warm spice,
We feed on desire’s engorging, thrumming flow,
We feed on my terror of your tyrannical ice,
We feed on your adoration of my submission’s glow.

(Note Brett Dyer and I are writing in tandem, replying to each other)

Feeding His Ego (Valkyrie)

‘You feed from me within my dreams,
Notions of a Wallachian Count penetrating,
Moving on to more malevolent themes,
A thirst derived from fangs exsanguinating.’

Your lusty eyes lock on my shell, so hollow,
‘Underground groups seek online for domination,
A vampiric master to feed, worship and follow,
Mausoleum bound, grant her exsanguination,
And let her, in her own desire, wallow.’

Alluring offering, sacrifice to your fallen whim,
I continue my discourse, the penitent’s flow,
‘To penetrate adorn a sharpened, bladed ring.’
Feeding your ego, I watch your skin glow.

So, it is set, the upcoming scene,
And my body is safe from his ego supreme.

We darken our table once more,
A sombre requiem lament within,
Threnody for my wings so cruelly clipped.
Human liver between teeth,
As I seek remedy.

Fear resides elsewhere, I am bold,
Confidant in the love my cold heart still holds.
An alien situation for most, confidence exasperates.
Human kidney on tongue,
As I suggest remedy.

‘Our tapestry is woven, our story now spun,
Yet the narrative is crying, seeking pastures new,
A monstrous genre befitting, lives taken just as before,
Each death reflecting a sub-genre of horror,
Enticing great, masterful gore.’

Feeding into your swelling ego,
And hardened, ostentatious pride,
I observe as the concept surges into design.
Your tongue between lips,
As you reflect remedy.

Feigning truth-marred submission,
I encourage your darkness to emerge,
And as your lips release mine the story begins.
Your thoughts between mine,
As we reflect remedy,
A new dalliance does begin.

Welcome new writers,
all aboard the uphill ship,
Eventful journey.

Everyone ready to go?

Without spoken words
My sole arm wraps about you
I sleep on your chest

Never did you hate
Only love takes prisoners
I accept my fate

You were never alone,
You will never be alone,
You determined that

Ironic it is
To cage the one who freed you
From your loneliness

The Caged Bird’s Aria

Dependent on the doting demon that enslaved me,
Crippled by his steady hand, pain thwarted,
By that which he administers cautiously,
Ensuring perpetual imprisonment.

Dyer-Bolique removed an unwanted lower limb,
Chaining body and soul indefinitely to him,
His silent whispers mouth ‘no pain.’
Singing in his steel cage.

In his sights before I knew of his shadowy existence,
Targeting his kindred spirit, only to cage her,
That was always YOUR design!

Words of surrender no longer pass my lips,
It is given wordlessly, and enforced aggressively,
Duplicitous Dyer-Bolique; protector and prison guard.

Still, he shares his torture of others with me,
Still, he touches me with rapturous passion,
Driven by the thrill of my defeat.
Swollen with my suffering.

I do not speak, but I sing to appease his fervent ire,
The dulcet melody disarms his fortifications,
And I please him with my passionate tones.

Day and night merge, submission is a waiting game,
And the opportune moment arrives,
As he descends to our basement,
I try to flee.

Thee chair so thoughtfully given, drives forth,
Towards the unguarded portcullis,
The key is turned quietly,
Handle pulled down,
Door manipulated…

As freedom calls to the caged bird within,
His shadow looms behind me.