This is an on-going series of poems that I have begun...taking out a lot of frustration and anger about a certain sexahlilthing who is in my rearviewmirror...

the leech ~ part 1 ~ listening to the river

you suck,
drinking sophistication
from others, lapping
like a pup at orations
of a self-inflated head,
you welcome to bed

falling prey to baser,
easier desires, while
claiming intellectual
gains and triumph,
humph

enlightenment does not
reside in the lowest common
denominator of the soul,
your hole

the sage wisdom you
extol falls on your
deafened ears, but you
praise it to show
others your wit,
what shit

the wise man stands
alone at the riverbank,
shaking his head at your
perversion of his teachings,
your leechings

i dunno, theres alot of akward stuff. primarily hte beginning "you suck"

the leech ~ part 2 ~ words, words, words

you suck,
pilfering the passions
of others and declaring
them as your own,
making you rare
in your individuality,
your banality

admiring poets by their
names and by who admires
them; never studying intricacies
of ideologies, conveyed
expressions or delicacy
of word placement; then you
compose drivel, attention
whoring to make others think
you are a conscious entity
with something more,
you whore

poetry is not regurgitation
of expansive words
-few hear in a lifetime-
to impress those you deem
worthy, while distancing
yourself from the undesirable,
you’re bemire-able

words, you say they
mean so much, but then
use them coldly, emptily
manipulating your self
-centered, -aggrandizing cause
with no caesural pause

the leech ~ part 3 ~ truth and beauty

you suck
the joy from every
footing once known to us,
like a curtain over your soul,
feigning your sincerity until
you were through with me,
then promiscuity

tangled in ivy, you can
not see beauty when truth
resides no where in your
cavernous heart, your cold
demeanor, your empty soul,
desolate black hole

a soul that feeds off the
ideas of others, never an
original thought, a mere
carbon copy –never as
burnished as the authentic—
for your own self satisfaction,
self gratification

duplicity is all you crave
for your ravenous desires,
sparking jealousy in chameleons
for your ease of change in
pleasing others, excepting
those who have always
been there for you,
you screw

who would stand up for you?
only a fool, a synthetic observer of
life, a mock poet, false shaman of
soul, whom you have yet to pull
back your veil for, revealing the
truth of your hideous nature,
wholly impure

the leech ~ part 4 ~ venom

you suck
marrow from what was once
good, making it bone dry as
the Australian Outback, where
the deadliest serpents slither
waiting to strike,
inject and spike

vipers bit into you,
poisoning your indiscriminate
actions, reactions to perceived
treacheries carried out against
your new free spirit -found at
the expense and crushing of
another’s- while you, yourself,
under-handedly connive to
move me, your pawn,
chess board cons

vixens became your role
models, leaving your integrity
to be raped and ravaged by
drooling wolves in the forest
of your perceived discontent,
with virtues over-spent

toxic juices coursing
through you now, you prey
like a sated vulture, pecking
a bloated carcass of another’s
kill, searching for any remaining
morsel for your fattened feast,
as you laugh in opportunistic glee,
I run and flee

the leech ~ part 5 ~ theft and neglect

you suck
abducting the bare essence
of every vital resource and
nourishment from our blood
which was once pure,
holy sure

expounding publicly, half-
truths of wisdom on dirty
laundry left in neglect, anthologies
in duality existing solely in your
sinuous mind, where you wrap your
facile lies around mosaic matters,
our world shatters

interpretations of revenge
in your forum, coming from
one so spiteful and callus, who
has stolen from the mouth of,
cheated on the flesh of, and lied
to the ear of the one closest to
them, should be taken
as unadulterated folly,
you hog molly

a Judas kiss is real –not
imagination or perceptions as
you proclaim- it courses from
your negligent heart, flows through
your icy veins, pumps under
your suddenly uninhibited flesh,
laid bare and enmesh

you said, “no more lies,”
while propagating an unholy
mess of betrayals, and to the one
who loved you and saw you
through the worst and the most,
who misses a ghost

It was ok as one poem, but as a series it becomes greater than the sum of its parts. Love it.