A need you dare not admit. Poetry on a Vampire Mom blog? Why? I’ll tell you.
People won’t admit they read poetry and are moved by it…but late at night they go on the Internet and search it out. It is like pornography. I’m dead serious (no pun intended). It is a need that most people will not dare admit to.
It isn’t a good time for me to expound upon the history of poetry or what caused the American population (among others) claim not to like poets. But I would like to remind everyone, especially those of us who can remember the past several centuries that there was a time that poets were the Rock Stars of our culture.
Sometimes I pull out my old volumes of favorites and read in the quiet of the night or on a rain soaked day. In turn, I also look for the new. I marvel at the many voices I see with poetry on the Internet.
Part of me believes technology with recorded music, radio, TV etc maybe brought an end to the poet as a popular icon. But in turn the Internet, yes the Internet has brought poetry back to life.
I see in the online communities poets being read, not ignored. I don’t read those words online “I don’t like poetry.” I see people who NEVER would read a poem, forwarding poetry to their friends and loved ones.
Poetry is a gift to the soul. Poetry is for everyone. Everyone needs poetry, like a vampire needs blood, like a hawk needs to fly, like a fish needs to swim. I know that wasn’t very poetic but you get the point – I hope.
Your assignment today is toΒ READ, SAVOR and SHAREΒ poetry with someone you love.
Almost two years ago I started writing the blog Vampire Maman (vampiremaman.com) as a parenting blog written by a Modern Vampire. It grew from a few funny stories about parenting, the elderly and ghosts to something much larger and more diverse. A large part of that diversity has been poetry, both mine and the poetry of others.
For me poetry is a way to put down words to express feelings that canβt always be explained otherwise. Just random thoughts and feelings. At least that is what works for me. Iβm not a poet. Iβm a storyteller.
I use poetry to tell stories. On my blog I talk a lot about 17 year old Garrett, a Vampire teen who is forever in love with one girl after the other β and of course he is always getting his heart broken. To deal with his feelings he writes poetry (which I usually find in the laundry.)
Β Looking Back
Looking back,
Youβre a pale ghost.
A monster waiting,
To feed upon the Vampire boy.
I feel your unholy energy,
Your thirst for power,
You prey on my heart,
You sucked away my love.
Alone in the dark,
I see your selfish soul,
Your glowing eyes,
That burn into my mind.
Loving a human girl,
Can only bring pain,
They are the monsters,
Bitches who bite deep.
Β ___________________________________
Sometimes Iβll write something just to get an idea or feeling acrossβ¦as in night and darknessβ¦loveβ¦and mystery.
Β
Musings of Night and Darkness
Night glimmers with light
Life abounds
The music of crickets
The glow of eyes in the night
Of raccoon and possums
Coyotes and cats
Nocturnal parties
Quiet in their celebrations
Stars and moon light the way
Reflecting off of waters
While cool breeze
Fills the night air
Beauty in darkness
No time for dreams
Β
_____________________________
Β
Vampire Love Poem
I was a spirit
In white silk with pink roses
Bustle in back
You in black tails
Took my breath away
And a century later
When you realized
That I loved you
I could exhale
______________________________
You Wait At My Door
You wait at my door,
Your bite still fresh,
Your cries
Your pleading
Your banging
The scratching
Your love
Astounds me
You will not give up
Fangs set
Love forever
I must let you in
For after all
Despite all
Forever all
I laugh
I smile
I let you in
You are my cat.

________________________________________________
And sometimes I write a few words of verse just to start off a story.
You are not prey
For I do not kill
Or take without giving
Β
I donβt steal your dreams
Or make you scream
In your bed alone
Β
I take only what I need
And in return
You are in blissful wonder
Β
Donβt fear the ones
With a shadow for a soul
And a vision of night
βWhat are you writing?β That was said in a sarcastic tone right from the mouth of the Ghost who materialized over my shoulder like a puff of stale cigarette smoke. That was the last thing I needed.
I glared at him. βGo away. It isnβt for your eyes.β
He gave me a disgusted look. βIt isnβt for any eyes.β
βI was just playing around with the words.β
βYouβre such a Vampire. Always trying to make your vile nasty things look so innocent. Why donβt you just say that you creep around at night and scare the shit out of people.β
βThat is your job Mr. Ghost.β
βOh right. But youβre pretty creepy.β
I stood up and faced him. βReally? You think Iβm creepy?β
He gave me one of those creepy smiles and raised an eyebrow. βI do.β
βThat comes from a disembodied dead person who lurks around and stalks people,β I told him.
βI donβt lurk. And youβre not a people. Youβre a Vampire. Youβre dead too.β
β Excuse me Nigel, I am not dead.β
βA twisted technicality. And what about your husband? He wasnβt born into your sick and twisted Vampire world. He was held down by a gang of Vampires while their Vampire slut sucked out all of his blood as well as his very life. Then they filled him with their poisoned blood and breath and gave him a shadow for a soul. He had a funeral. His girlfriend cried over his dead cold body. He now, like you, has to drink blood to survive.β
βAt least my husband has a body.β
Nigel smiled again. βA body most guys would envy, but he is still a cold dead Vampire.β
βAre you done here?β
βSure.β The ghost all but rolled his eyes. βYou know when youβre angry your fangs come out.β
βEnough.β I snapped out at him.
Then he had the audacity to put his head back and laugh. βAdmit it Vampire. Iβm your muse.β
βGo away.β
βGoodnight Juliette.β He faded away but I could still hear him laughing in the distance.
——————————————-
My favorite poetry on my blog is from other writers. About half the poetry I post isnβt mine. One of my favorites is from my own daughter (written about two years ago). This was an assignment for school but I had to share.
We destroy and help make screaming silence
As wonderful as we are
This world we are destroying
With our safe guns,
Truly false, bitter sweetness
Upside down ways, violently peaceful,
Beautiful flaws we do it’s never been right
Children
Maybe one day the unborn children can make a change
You
Be yourself, fix the bad karma, live your life and fix things as much as you can
Maybe one day it will all be better
Maybe long after you and me
But things can only get worse before they get better
C. S. Kings Age 12 2012
Β
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman






These are beautiful poems! π
I wrote poetry as a child and even “self-published” (ok photocopied) a book of them and handed out as Christmas gifts one year. I hadn’t thought of that in a long time. You write lovely (if haunting) poetry.
Fantastic poems, Juliette. I’m so impressed!!
My dear, you are NOT a poet. Your are a Poetess !!! …and yes…, it’s a gender thing ! π
“Poetry is a gift to the soul. Poetry is for everyone. Everyone needs poetry, like a vampire needs blood, like a hawk needs to fly, like a fish needs to swim. I know that wasnβt very poetic but you get the point β I hope.” I agree.
All the poetry was amazing. You need a book of poetry and tale.