A need you dare not admit.


Juliette Kings aka Vampire Maman – Musings of a Modern Vampire Mom (vampiremaman.com)


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 to READ, SAVOR and SHARE poetry with someone you love.




Juliette Vampire Maman

Vampire Maman

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 getting out blood stains and vampire kids at camp, 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 can’t always be explained otherwise. Just random thoughts and feelings. At least that is what works for me. I’m not a poet. I’m a storyteller.


I use poetry to tell stories. On my blog I talk a lot about Garrett, a Vampire teen who is forever in love with one girl after the other – 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.)


Looking back,

You’re 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.


Sometimes I’ll write something just to get an idea or feeling across…as in night and darkness…love…and mystery.


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



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


I don’t steal your dreams

Or make you scream

In your bed alone


I take only what I need

And in return

You are in blissful wonder


Don’t fear the ones

With a shadow for a soul

And a vision of night


 “What are you writing?” 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. “Go away. It isn’t for your eyes.”

He gave me a disgusted look. “It isn’t for any eyes.”

“I was just playing around with the words.”

“You’re such a Vampire. Always trying to make your vile nasty things look so innocent. Why don’t you just say that you creep around at night and scare the shit out of people.”

“That is your job Mr. Ghost.”

“Oh right. But you’re pretty creepy.”

I stood up and faced him. “Really? You think I’m creepy?”

He gave me one of those creepy smiles and raised an eyebrow. “I do.”

“That comes from a disembodied dead person who lurks around and stalks people,” I told him.

“I don’t lurk. And you’re not a people. You’re a Vampire. You’re dead too.”

“ Excuse me Nigel, I am not dead.”

“A twisted technicality. And what about your husband? He wasn’t 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.”

“At least my husband has a body.”

Nigel smiled again. “A body most guys would envy, but he is still a cold dead Vampire.”

“Are you done here?”

“Sure.” The ghost all but rolled his eyes. “You know when you’re angry your fangs come out.”

“Enough.” I snapped out at him.

Then he had the audacity to put his head back and laugh. “Admit it Vampire. I’m your muse.”

“Go away.”

“Goodnight Juliette.” He faded away but I could still hear him laughing in the distance.



Then there is the story “Ode to a Greek God,” that shows the power of a lost, then found poem. Click here for the entire story.


My favorite poetry on my blog is from other writers. About half the poety I post isn’t mine. One of my favorites is from my own daughter (written several 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
Maybe one day the unborn children can make a change
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
Charlotte (aka Clara) Kings, Age 12, 2012

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

15 thoughts on “A need you dare not admit.

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  3. “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.”
    If you read history. Writers and artist were mad mans. People fear writers for they are the gypsies of emotion. Can steal your sadness and put them into words. A very entertaining blog. I enjoyed your thoughts and the amazing poetry. Thank you.

  4. Enjoying your writing. There is a forceful fluidity and even tone that runs through that I think is so stylish. (Agree too that the internet is bringing poetry back! Thank goodness!!) Looking forward to catching more of your work. I love the imagery you compose.

    • That is wonderful. There are so many fantastic poets out online and in bookstores to discover. Many are on WordPress blogs (many of my favorites.) Poetry is an amazing thing – the songs of our hearts and souls. Thank you for dropping by.

  5. I was happy to have stumbled on this site. I like reading poetry and l love to write myself. I do have a small collection of poetry I will one day do something with. I had been published in the past twice , that is pretty neat. Maybe one day again. The first was a long time ago and I have lost track of it. I had won a contest in AZ and part of the prize was having it published. The name of the poem was TEMPEST. A wonderful play on words between a dark raging thunderstorm and demonic black winged horse from the the pit of hell. It is fabulous where one’s imagination can take them. , with a little added reality!

  6. A short , but sweet one:

    ” Bleed thy lips and blow a kiss,
    The devil comes for his nightly tryst.
    Slash thy throat without a sound ,
    Stand no more on holy ground.
    Evil taketh a somber plane ,
    As acsending angels watch in vain!”
    “AAS 2006”


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