The Rembrandt of the Body
   The Rembrandt of the Body stories
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poemsaboutlife
poemsaboutlifepoet/writer/thinker/dreamer
Autoplay OFF  •  10 days ago
A little piece for the challenge posted by @hanniecakes and the word given was Meraki (meaning at the end of the poem). Hope you enjoy :) **Warning - contains dark and twisted theme**

The Rembrandt of the Body

The pungent stench of rancid flesh lingers in the air Another helpless victim lies naked on a cold metal slab

The pungent stench of rancid flesh lingers in the air Another helpless victim lies naked on a cold metal slab This icy table has become the victim's new home Held down by leather straps that press down to the bone

Full bodied lips that once offered so much affection A kiss is no more as tape covers from ear to ear

Full bodied lips that once offered so much affection A kiss is no more as tape covers from ear to ear Once again is the time for him to live out his dreams With a slash of his tool he makes the first incision

A slender slice along the torso from nipple to nipple Fine red wine makes an elegant exit

A slender slice along the torso from nipple to nipple Fine red wine makes an elegant exit With a delicate flair comes cut number two Naval to chin, nice and slow just to watch the blood flow

A crucifix of raw meat bares its heavenly glory for his eyes This is his signature strokes of his blade

A crucifix of raw meat bares its heavenly glory for his eyes This is his signature strokes of his blade The template upon which all his masterpieces are made All the writhing and squirming fuels his undying desire

Not an ounce of life is wasted in his beautiful creation A hammer makes an appearance from his black bag of tricks

Not an ounce of life is wasted in his beautiful creation A hammer makes an appearence from his black bag of tricks With a giant thud the knee explodes into a thousand pieces Just like a broken mirror, the cap is splintered many times

Right on cue, the whistle of a kettle can be heard That can only mean one thing, a fresh pot of boiling water is ready for service

Right on cue, the whistle of a kettle can be heard That can only mean one thing, a fresh pot of boiling water is ready for service Slowly does he pour, tracing each wound with delicate precision Diluting the blood with a simmering and bubbling

Beautiful patterns of steam drift into the ether Intoxicating the nostrils taking him to cloud nine

Beautiful patterns of steam drift into the ether Intoxicating the nostrils taking him to cloud nine There is only one thing missing from his glorious sight He needs to sign off on this gorgeous piece of art

With his trusted steed, he stamps each breast A hot branding iron, burning his symbol into the flesh

With his trusted steed, he stamps each breast A hot branding iron, burning his symbol into the flesh Known as the butcher to many but the common don't see He's the creator of art, the Rembrandt of the body!

~~ Meraki: to do something with soul or love; to put something of yourself into your work

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