The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Mr Gluttony
09:43 Apr 10 2012
Times Read: 577

Do you know the

Glutton man?

He eats everything

Whenever he can.



Fried up chops

With a vanilla slice.

Oxtail soup

Gravy and rice.



Eat, eat, eat man

Shovel it in.

Eat the scraps

From the rubbish bin.



Wipe in grease

With your hands

Cover your body

In chowder and clams.



When he stops

It’s to take a breath

Then it’s soon,

On to the rest.



He doesn’t realise

He will overload

So that one day

He will explode.

Investigation
09:39 Apr 04 2012
Times Read: 591

He is having her watched

But he doesn’t know by whom.

He found a number

In a dingy dark room.



They park a new truck

Outside his home each day.

He thinks they live inside

But he really can’t say.



He thinks they make tapes

And record her conversations.

He thinks they compute

All of their observations.



He is waiting on a verdict

But hasn’t heard a thing.

He is beginning to wonder

If he should ring.



Perhaps she is guilty

And they are gathering information

Or maybe they desire her

And are watching in salvation.



Sometimes he worries

If this were true

He should warn her perhaps

That she is under their view.



Then he calms and settles,

Content to wait.

She brought it on herself

She deserves this fate.

Ice-cream
05:05 Apr 03 2012
Times Read: 609

She likes ice-cream

because as it melts

it becomes like a creature

with many explorative tentacles.



She lets it drip over her

and feels it run into her private crevices;

secret places that no man or woman

can touch.



Ice-cream leaves her body sticky

Like it has cum upon her.

She has to shower her body,

outside and in.



Ice-cream is tutoring her new lover.

She allows ice-cream to explore her body

and lays back while her lover

attempts to follow its path with her tongue.

She Lost Her Soul
05:37 Apr 01 2012
Times Read: 620

Lost in a reverie

Contemplating the glass of diluted dreams.

The tears gently trace the familiar trail

As she ponders “what is self-esteem?”



Quickly the glass empties

As she pours ever more.

The warmth of the alcohol

Fires her deadened core.



The bleakness of life

Crushes her face to the floor.

How is it love became difficult,.

Why am I wanting for more?



I don’t remember when it was

That I lost complete control

I can’t even remember

When I was last whole.



When did it happen?

She is confounded yet again,

Downing another alcohol promise

Because dreaming causes her pain.



She lost her soul

And can’t remember where.

She doesn’t realise she entrusted it

With those who care.

I’m in Trouble Again
05:21 Apr 01 2012
Times Read: 632

I’m in trouble again

I’m in loads of strife.

I’ve only just learned,

I’ve been seeing Satan’s Wife.



I should have known

from her seductive smile

But I was just too tempted,

helpless and beguiled.



So I’ve gotta run

not go back where I’ve been

because Satan knows

and he wants my skin.



So for thirty days

I’ve been hiding out.

I rented a room

On the 66 route.



I found a casino.

I’ve been drinkn’ there.

I’m back to thinkin’

I aint gotta care.



But I’m in trouble again

I’ve not been doin’ what I oughta

I’ve only just leaned,

that Satan’s got a daughter.



So I’ve gotta run

not go back where I’ve been

because Satan knows

and he wants my skin.

Today is a good day to die.
02:50 Apr 01 2012
Times Read: 583

He started by licking letter openers

And the edges of opened cans.

Two years later, he found paring knives

and ran them across his hands.



He took to chewing wire

Like it were tobacco chunks

The ends would puncture through his cheeks

Forming hardened bloodied lumps.



Yelling, yelling loudly, as he chases after life

Chasing always creating, bigger, greater strife.



He would snake his hands into fires

And stamp on shattered glass.

He began to find an addictive pleasure

In shoving bottles up his arse.



One good day he found an arrow

And snapped it off at the head.

He thrust it into his beating heart

Which pumped whilst being bled.



Whisper, whisper softly as his life drips to the floor.

He pushes it in harder, and tastes of his own gore.

The Forest Man Drips
01:44 Apr 01 2012
Times Read: 583




Down in the well, in the wild water well

Where the water’s run deep and echo and swell

in the smell of empty, dank and alone

lives the Forest man, eating on a bone.



Watch out for Winter, be careful where you go

If you sink in the mud, he will surely know.

Take with you a candle, make sure it burns.

Don’t get lost in the prehistoric ferns.



He can taste the sweat that itches your neck.

He can hear the sound of a woodpecker peck.

He knows your whisper will soon turn to fear.

The Forest man waits for you to come near.



He whittles a stick with a piece of glass

and crouches low, to observe you pass.

His lips ease apart to let out vapor

by now the stick has a menacing taper.



You think you hear him, you move faster.

You only play into the trap set by the master.

As you fall you know only pain.

You are soon to become one of the slain.





The Forest man drips dew from his lips

As he drags over your body, sharpened sticks.

The last thing you see is his rough tongue lick

your eyes, before he thrusts in the stick.



If you were to scream in the forest alone

apart from the trees, how would it be known?

Did you really die since you told no one?

Are you now his coat, since he dried you in the sun?