Jacob Biehl

Rookie - 10 Points [Cold] (2/1/96' / cincinnati)

Jacob Biehl Poems

1. The Defining Of All 5/13/2010
2. Grey Streaks 5/13/2010
3. A Brooms Sweep 5/18/2010
4. The Ying-Yang Of Karma 5/19/2010
5. Ironic Barrier 5/25/2010
6. Warriors Of Honor 8/27/2010
7. Home 8/31/2010
8. Fear 9/2/2010
9. Typhoon 9/2/2010
10. Poems 9/2/2010
11. Surreal World 9/3/2010
12. Groups 9/8/2010
13. Shun Before Begun 9/9/2010
14. Rain And Ashes 9/9/2010
15. Time 9/15/2010
16. Blind Side 10/5/2010
17. Shot Me Down 10/5/2010
18. Thats Of My Father, 10/5/2010
19. Two Kinds Of Crashes, Many Kinds Of Wrecks 10/14/2010
20. True Fear 10/14/2010
21. Cold 12/19/2010
22. Red Snow 1/4/2011
23. Monster I'Ve Become 3/8/2011
24. Catch The Dancing Light 3/9/2011
25. A Grimm Tale 10/17/2011
26. It's Hiding In The Dark 10/17/2011
27. By Morrow Night 11/7/2011
28. Unquenchable Thirst 11/7/2011
29. Lonely White 12/14/2011
30. Look In The Mirror 12/14/2011
31. Check Yes Juliet 12/14/2011
32. Tears Don'T Fall 12/14/2011
33. Willows Weep 2/9/2012
34. Smog 8/27/2013
35. Blood 8/27/2013
36. Sheep 8/27/2013
37. Friends 9/10/2013
38. Sorcery 9/20/2013
39. My Fears 9/24/2013
40. Moonlight Sonata 10/18/2013
Best Poem of Jacob Biehl

Of Which No Child Should Know

I make my way through the snow,
of the way many went, but not yet come,
I made my way through that sticky snow,
upon which lies a sickly sight.

The bodies mangled, mauled, and dead,
it's a sight that mothers dread,
for when they know their child's dead.
they'll soon cry upon the heads,
the heads upon which mark the dead.
They're not to run in golden fields,
nor take joy in simple crafts,
will be upon hearts like shafts.

The sight of this scarred black land,
is one of which no child should know,
not the slopes slicked with blood, ...

Read the full of Of Which No Child Should Know

Grey Streaks

climbing, sprinting, running, hunting, for life
wont stop, to fast, wind cracking past, silence
all stops, time slows, hare falling to white knife
to pups i go, behind a furry fence,

it's calm for the lights anew, grow in sky
but under high moon's noon, the loner waits,
a fast pace towards the small, new, runt pup
a haste of wall to bide the tide's cruel bites,

[Hata Bildir]