Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
Tiger in a Cage (a stab at men)
Like a caged tiger.
You do not know what is in my den?
There is no worse feeling than the way I pace back and forth repeatedly.
A headless collar is all you see.
The closer I get, the more you seem to pretend.
To you these stripes look more like dots.
As you, continue to hold my lines and strands in your hand.
You stroke my stripes as if they were a loft of dental floss.
An ORANGE all squishy and rot.
Rough and tough!
You cannot peel what you cannot feel.
You do not know me at all?
You trust me.
You lace me.
You cannot describe the buds.
You cannot feel my fingertips.
A taste of nothing out of your lips.
Indian BLACK streaks in my skin.
How did you manage to even get in?
We mount this unspeakable stability.
A man-eater swallowing her growl.
This hunger is piercing throughout my veins.
Hiding the powerful black star sapphire in my eyes.
Every move I plan ricochets.
A tiger, a tiger in her cage.
Only in your world, I am my own prey.
My wildness is rarely found above my skin.
Every day I wear this heavy coat, my stripes continue to sink in.
It is a solitary confinement when you are around.
You cannot see the black diamonds under this unbearable frown.
Dingy claws, tapping……
Natures dew bestows a toneless mixture of orange and black tattoo.
These stripes, belittle my self-esteem.
The moon flashes overlapped our taboo.
Never will you see a tigers gleam.
Spirituality waiting to rise above the trees.
It is my choice, to stand behind these unbreakable twigs.
Fertilizing like pollen under a blanket of bees.
Still the effects of your eclipse, bounce off my wall.
I am telling you!
You don't know me at all?
The roads these loads continue to grow.
Far ahead, I am the gravel under your toes.
Crouching like a Tiger hiding the way a dragon breathes.
You don't know how I feel!
I am a tiger in a cage please set me free!
"Breed to Breathe" by Napalam Death
In the cradled of life's dark garden,
It dwells amongst the murky waters
Behold the creature from the black lagoon.
Nay what is this creation, neither fish or
Yet a blending of both, a high bread's mixture,
Intelligent, and cunning, the last of his species,
Brought unwisely did men, bring beauties
Forbidden fruit, unto this lost oasis of Eden.
For alone sentinel awaits to partake in such
A luscious morsel.
So does it not say in biblical text, go forth
And multiply, by a driven basic instinct he
Cautiously watches from the thicket brush.
What a graceful motion moves within the
She swims idle caught unaware, the bride
To be herself, charms him with every stroke
Across this lake placid.
With Chameleon like stealth, the groom appears,
Taking his prize to their cavey honeymoon retreat.
So tenderly he greets his mate, from shocks
Dreamy like state she awakes, and recoils in repulsion.
No love's scorn, and tragedies broken heart,
Can do more damage than rejections expulsion.
Bullets may have cut the flesh to the bone,
But was it not beauty, which killed the beast,
And the last sight he saw, was his love in
So ends natures final verse in this evolutionary
The creature from the black lagoon now lies
Dead, upon this tragic stage of life.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
By ears and whiskers, ain't no more
A sadder thing that being in the dog house,
On a rainy day.
Make no bones about it, when momma's
Mad I'm hanging my head low.
Jo dirt has nothing on how bad this hound feels,
But honestly instincts roller, over road wisdom's,
Howling, but I'd mean it dearest sweet mommy.
With woofs and kisses can I make it all better,
It's lonely on this side of the doorway.
With you out there and me in here.
Kibbles my bits I'd give up my
Of bacon bits for a true heart felt,
That a good boy one more time.
If I could I'd bring you a beer,
Just to see that frown disappear.
Perking these two ears up to here,
Your laughter ring out at bed time.
Or a soft whispers friendly voice, speaking
Good night dear old friend.
All four paws down I won't do it again,
Cross this canine's fury little heart.
But the rain keeps falling,
As outside the sunshine is calling,
Our names to be together,
There's no tears like these rainy days.
So I'll sit patiently,
For the sun to rise again in your heart,
When ever that maybe,
Because simply put I'm loyalties pup,
Just waiting for you to bring me
On the right side of
The door once more.
To sit beside thee again.
A companion and dearest friend,
Always letting the sun to shine down
On us forever more.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Lady liberty, hold your flame light high,
Beware the path thy cross, in the wild undiscovered
Wilderness of the U.S.A.
For it is here a fierce native predator,
Stalks the rocky ranges bad lands,
Behold the American mountain lion.
Known as the cougar.
Nature's solitary soldier, walks with
Silences stealth and predatory cunning.
Beneath the thickets underbrush,
The beast does savor, upon his preys weakness,
And relishes the hunt of engagement.
Secretive creature, an apex hunter,
Wearily observing, his natural habitats
Surroundings, this king
Survives by tooth and claw alone.
Once hunted to the brink of extinction,
At the hands of mankind, and greed's bounty.
Nobility's instinctual majesty, has reclaimed
His mighty throne, on the cliff tops high.
The cougar, represents a come backs promise,
We as American's shall leave none of our
Own behind, has recovered and announces
His arrival with a mighty roar.
In the heights forbidden realm, the big horn sheep,
Smacks his antlers against his reveling foe,
It's soundings echo is heard for miles,
Abreast the whitening fallen snow,
But the great feline lord, has now returned,
To his ancestral territory, a shadow flash,
Of golden brown, a royal phantom to
The art of war, clashing with basic instincts
Desire to survive.
Behold the pride stands tall, upon the
Red bands of freedom, nay liberation’s
Symbol soars above the lion's den,
Beneath the night's sky shines with
Old glory's stars hanging in beauty's favor,
We honor him, this the great American lion,
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
~Woody Wood From the Hood~
Deep, inside yourself, you walk a sour way of life,
Carving my name, on every tree you see, with a hunting knife
You log in, then log out
A Birdman So Fickle, He Stinks of doubt!
Blind today, bald tomorrow,
Big Bird, will be your only friend
I can't seem to forget the day, you shed your final skin
Revealing a darker snake, than the one in my garden
Leaving the word betrayal, up to the imagination
Trust not the fool, who thinks his halo is heaven sent
Using a fake ballpoint pen dietary supplement
Thinning out his wings, and losing the symbolic meaning
Aging in a way, that spreads crow's feet from top to bottom
Sapsucker revolving yellow, as if it was always autumn
Pecking Hard Wood, MR Pecker of all woodpeckers
Forgetting who's the real Home-wrecker
Your dragging pants are no bother, Mr Woodpecker!
I've gotten use to the tree talking and your creative vision
Let's just say, "Gangster to Gangster, I've given you a mission."
Keep rapping and tapping the same old street sign,
Woodstock, on demand, crap the peanut punch
Whatever suits you for breakfast and lunch
Don't forget dinner's also about me
Peck away with deception, reveal your sullen evil feathers
A disease urine Birdman, doing it snoopy style
A flightless, lightless liar, nothing about him's worthwhile
Keep manipulating the weak, whatever turns you on
I'm not ready to shoot you down with my shotgun
Probably not real
A rumbling sound does strike the ground, beneath the heavens,
The thundering finger tips of God, creeps across the earth itself.
Creation's lightening, announces their arrival, behold the mighty
Elephant bursting forth, grappling existence within it's ivory tusks.
Bend do the mountains themselves, for sheer raw power's reverence.
Divinity's creatures honored, by man and beast alike, nature's gray
Phantoms of the wilderness wild.
Roaring above even the king of beasts, whom offers royalty's
Crown unto he, the true majesty of strength and dominance.
Evolution's survivor, the living giant,
Over coming all environmental changes, the earth has set
A keystone species, beating extinction, move for move
On the chest board of life, by evolving and adapting.
Oh mother's hold thy babies most dear, closely, as she the
Matriarch guards her calf, fission-fusion society, linked
By bloods legacy.
Never does the heart of an elephant forget heartaches loss,
Yet mourning forever within the soft brown eyes of intelligence.
Tenderly, shedding tears of regret's for-get-me-knots, but in
Her soul she knows, one day mother and calf, shall be reunited,
Beyond the elephant graveyard of stilled bones.
Hatred’s madness, drives this instinctual season called musth,
Alone rough is death's destructive shadow, seeking passion's
Mate, no matter the cost in physical pain, instincts desire must
Storm's living earthquakes, shakes the African plains underneath
It's feet, the cradle of life itself is rocked, to it's innermost core.
But it is beauty, whom can tame this beast, yielding unto destiny's
Call of the wild heart, to breed, the need to leave their legacy,
And continue the future of the species.
A rumbling sound does strike the ground, beneath the heavens,
The thundering finger tips of God, creeps across the earth itself.
Creation's lightening announces their arrival, behold the mighty
Elephant bursting forth, grappling existence within it's ivory tusks.
Bend do the mountains themselves, for sheer raw powers reverence,
Divinity's creatures honored by man and beast alike, nature's gray
Phantoms of the wilderness wild.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
For weeks now the two young males had been watching,
waiting for their opportunity and now it was time.
They were now strong enough to take over the pride.
Signalling his intent to his brother Moto stood up
and started forward with Javier following behind.
As the reached the pride a battle royal ensued
The lionesses desperate to drive them off knowing
if they succeeded vast changes would occur.
Far in the distance Soto heard the roars and growls
as the take over ensued and rushed to protect them.
The fight was long and hard with some fatalities.
Soto received wounds that would take months to heal
as he was banished by the brothers, his life now as an outcast.
Luckily for him Zanidar joined him with her cubs of nearly a year old
She and they would keep him fed as he slowly healed.
Back at the pride the brothers set about their gruesome task
all the cubs were hunted down and killed without mercy.
Now the lionesses would soon be ready to mate again
and it would be their blood that the offspring would bear
perpetuating their line and increasing the size of the pride.
Life in the African Savannah was always cruel and hard
the brothers would face many challengers in their time.
Food always an issue once the migrating herds moved on.
Now a time of little the pride suffered and grew weaker.
The only saving grace was the buffalo not without their risks.
Valiant fighters who protected each other forming a ringed barrier
around the more vulnerable, ready to fight to the death.
With very young cubs the lionesses needed food to feed them
and desperation drove them on, finally they made a good kill
none would go hungry for a few days. In the distance the clouds
gathered rain falling far up country at last reaching them and
with the rain the vast herds once more returned and life teemed.
Now was a time of plenty and the pride recovered their health.
For seven years the brothers ruled supreme yet in the background
there were many waiting their own time. Two males in particular
Janto and Batso sons of Soto watched and waited eager to take over
until at last it was their time and turn to roust the pride males.
And so the never ending cycle started again until the next time.
Story of Afghanistan
The barren land of my birthplace
Green at times but screening a rocky face
Known for thousands of years for its warrior race
Let me tell you the truth,
No one really wanted this “space”.
Up until two lions began prying around
Initially, just fooling around
Afterwards, casting off their cannon sound
Resembling the 6th night of an infant’s fête
Building their castles, and so began the burial grounds.
The lions pledged to crush the other
With a master plan
Dividing the blood brothers
Such was the instruction of the queen mother
As the clans clashed and killed one another.
The chiefs were swallowed by the promise of gold
The mullahs were swapped for the hollow soul
The seniors by the fire recounted and foretold
The purpose for the lion’s vehemence
This story definitely in time will unfold.
The old grew timeworn
Waiting for their young ones to return home
The teenagers free born
Screamed out of their mosques’ domes
Come and join us in this struggle
Faced with the crusaders of the Church of Rome,
But little did they know,
No one will return but the maimed men to a funeral home.
The sturdier lion won the combat
But what has become of my Afghanistan
The wolf in a sheep’s disguise
Has spoiled my jade paradise
My heart denies it but I may have bombed my youthful chums,
This is now a global land-dwelling for bums and slums!
The lion wishes to be unveiled this time
So he promises to take the last dime
After all it pays to cooperate in war crimes!
He roars in a deafening cry
I bring Democracy to this land
With loads of cash in one hand
A whip in the back hand--forgetting the long years of perfidy
I now declare and demand
This is the new Promised Land.
A woman of this realm is exposed with a promise
She is liberated by democracy
Famous on national publications like the story of Pocahontas
She’s affirmed independent and agreed to arise out of the darkness
As the saga is read to the United States Congress
And anticipates the lion’s hunger
Waiting for the day when she will be veiled, unveiled, and then veiled again
Not by ordinary men
But by inscription of law.
Thank you for sealing the decree!
Lookin' after pests
Keepin' a CLOSE eye on 'em
"Those wild animals!"
Roamin' around zoo
Searchin' for sneaky monkey
Hidin' in a tree
Zookeeper gets mad
"Where's Marty, the smartypants!?"
"He TOOK my cage keys!"
Harry was waiting at base camp for his party of tourists
hoping that Beverly and her children would not be rowdy
when they finally arrived he got them settled in their tent
once unpacked they joined him in the main area for tea
After he had explained the rules they chatted about this and that
her children Ben and Sue were lively but very well behaved
Harry promised to take them on a safari the very next day
he said there was a waterhole a few miles away from camp
As they sat there finishing off their tea Samari ran into camp
he said less than a mile away there was a solitary elephant
so they made their way carefully to where he was last seen
he had moved on into the thick bush they cautiously followed
After five hundred yards or more they could hear him near
suddenly the elephant screamed and charged at them
they all ran as fast as they could the ground shaking under their feet
his trumpeting roars were deafening as quickly he caught up
Then Beverly and the children reached the open plains
Samari was with them and they sighed in relief at escaping
this relief was short lived when they realised Harry was missing
the elephant had picked him out to follow and was gaining fast
Harry could feel him closing its breath blowing on his neck
desperately he zigzagged trying to lose it to little avail
he looking back could see the bristles of it's trunk hairs
it struck him with its trunk knocking him to the floor
Harry rolled up into a ball and lay still as possible playing dead
The elephant kicked him around like a ball then caught him up
and flung him in the air as Harry landed he pointed trying to scare it
upon which the elephant gored his leg with a tusk then walked away
Harry was bleeding badly he tried hard to stop the blood flow
he could see it pumping out at an alarming rate he knew he needed help
meantime Beverly and Samari were carefully searching for him
at last Samari heard his weak whimpers and tracked him down
Quickly he tore off his shirt and bound it tightly round the leg
managing to slow the blood to a trickle he radioed for help
Harry was fading in and of conciousness as Beverly cradled his head
at last the Jeep arrived and he was taken to a plane and flown to hospital
Once there they operated and sewed him up he needed six pints of blood
when concious once more he thought of his mother realising he never said goodbye
slowly he recovered back in England and told his mum he was sorry
that in his excitement he had forgotten she immediately forgave him
When he was fit again he decided to return to Africa once more
to face his fears head on as he had loved his time on the dark continent
he knew this was not the time to cower away letting his fears rule
so boldly he took his courage in both hands and flew back to base
After all the measure of a person is to always face and live life
and it was he and his party who had trespassed in the elephants land
a lesson well learned from then on he always carried a gun
not to hunt with but to protect the tourists who came to see the game
" see notes about this poem"
"'Cause when your back's against the wall
That's when you show no fear at all
And when you're running out of time
That's when you hitch your star to mine
We won't be leaving by the same road that we came by"
~Keane - My Shadow Lyrics ~
There is no celestial place for you to guide my thoughts
Can you not see that I am free from you?
I am a black bird perched high in the treetops
You will hear my crowing and you may hate it
But my dear, you cannot take away my voice!
Yet still, as fire oppresses forests of life,
You can abuse my freedom to find your glory
You may discard these words for your love of gods,
And in so doing you may simply ignore
All the cries that I so passionately utter
But my infectious species will guide your mind straight back
To that once so lonely treetop where you merely glanced
And there will be multitudinous, oppressing thoughts
That shall enslave you and bind you unwillingly
The crows will only grow louder when you turn away—
When you pretend to ignore with your remaining, strangling pride
For my voice is a production sent from above
Dispatched to judge you pitilessly for your swelling lies!
And the choirs of ferocious beaks shall open forever
Harmony and dissonance as one
I simply love being me
for I am so good at everything
step into my city and they
will tell you who is King
one day when I am hungry
I will swallow everything
then and only then shall I
inherit the stuff I dream
even then I promise
not to settle for satisfaction
at any instant half a second
I could spring into full action
so go against me? please,
you do not even measure
up to half of the goodness
that I hold tight like my treasure
still spreading rumors about me
to try and destroy my life
can't believe I let myself get beat by
a stripper and my self-intended knife
try and say I'm gay
even though we both know that isn't the truth
just ask any woman I been with
if they ever needed proof
they'll say I was the cream of the crop
as they took it all night knowing
I just may never stop
I own the status of a legend
now what you got left to say
when I bring it twenty-four seven?
As dawn peers over the edge of the sky,
In a space of the lonely kopjes and cacti.
Where God roamed to the edge of a scorched wilderness,
and stared into the vast land of nothingness.
HERE, STANDS A PLACE ARID AND BONE DRY
WHERE ROOT AND SHOOT SHRIVEL AND DIE.
HERE IS WHERE HE FORMED ROCKY OUTCROPS AND SANDY STRANDS
TULI IS IT’S NAME.
IN THIS FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE, WHERE WIND ROLES A GUST
FORMATION OF BOULDERS, PEBBLES, AND DUST.
The springs of vitality forced from the ground below
Sweet honey dew, taste of life, transforms this dusty bowl
Where quenched thirsts were satisfied,
Hunger for food became starvation and slowly crippled the dreary
Only the toughest would survive, no room for the weary
As time pasted, it forgot this flat open bush
where grass and shrub became razor sharp and prickly scrub.
harsh and foreboding.
The Shashe river snaking through the sandy ground
with dust and rubble on the fortress mound
So men came to conquer and forge his own path,
What madness is this, why was he so daft.
But, when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object
History is written.
Wheels of progress move steadily forward
Rocks being used to build roads, bridges, houses, and prisons
So hard, tough, and cold these objects are to house the idea of future dreams and missions.
The stubborn will to settle,
made peoples focus rock solid.
But as time marches out and onward,
the memories and sentiments pasted through like a gentle breeze.
All that is left is the forgotten memories, graves, and relics of buildings old,
Hunters, Riders, and Voortrekkers cry out from the dust and sand,
that fortress of Pioneers, Tuli.
Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?
Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”
Against the pale October Moon, a lone howling cuts
Through the chill of the winter’s night, gleaming yellow
Green eyes flash in the forests wilderness wild.
Sleek mystic swift of feet, white powder chameleons,
Living by the creed of basic instinctual desire to survive,
In this harsh environment of the Rocky Mountains.
By the flight of the morning blue jay, spooked from his
Perches vantage point on high, the pack hunts in the
Deep valleys thickening glen.
Snow wolves on the prowl, seeking freedoms liberation
By tooth and claw, but these are beasts of the free spirit,
Out laws nomads, wondering where the restless heart so
Beguiling creatures of beauty, representing the raw
Force of power of the untamed soul, roughed individuals,
Stalkers of the ice and snow.
Spiritual brethren to the tribal Indians are these
Sacred guardians of the great spirits creation, darned
With mutual respect and admiration honor, let them
Roam freedom’s path forever.
Symbolic warriors under the skin and fur, does the animal
Run beside the human hidden within the shadow realm of realism.
Echoing in the distance, with a chilling presence that
Crawls up the neck bone of mankind, announcing,
Erriely, of the hunger driving them in silence.
Nature’s selectors, weaving the weak from the strong,
Legacies ancestral brave, soldiers of canines pack,
Living on the edge of extinction mighty wrath.
But looking into the eyes of the beast, one can only
See the beauty of a wild creature, whom wishes to remain
As he was born to be, simply put FREE!!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
my days are spent
your body's core
from the nape
of your neck
to the sole
of your feet
the savory trunk
boredom is removed
my sullen arousal
beneath the moonlight
a distant glow
A full moon night
to my delight
what is so wrong
with doing what's right
nothing is right
after so long
no use in complaining
time to move on
The Dream Water one day
might take me away
farther from the comfort
I float on my back
then shut my eyes
my body now sinking
into ocean arms open wide
Now swallow your son
back to his nature
when he is no longer
needed to stay here
the next generation
are dooming themselves
they need my experience
to guide them through hell
Why should I bother
on my own, I strive through
I turn my back on the thought
of bothering to save you
alone in this world
my, is it spacious
I'm finally smiling,
never so gracious.
Such a nose had Ol’ Blue.
Best in south Missouri... everybody knew.
Could smell a pheasant across the plain.
Could point a covey in a hurricane.
That’s the way the legend goes.
Ol’ Blue had a “magic nose.”
As Blue got older, his master’s mind would drift away
To a place where he and young Blue used to play.
In the mornings, sitting over his coffee cup
He found it sad there were no pups.
He thought it would be such a shame
If the only memory was Ol’ Blue’s name.
So, Jim was compelled and full of pride;
He made a search, far and wide,
To find Ol’ Blue a suitable mate.
No doubt, his offspring would be great.
It seemed likely, he supposed,
At least one pup would have his “magic nose.”
She was a Champion Miss from New Orleans,
A beautiful “red” named Cajun Queen.
But Blue suddenly passed away, before the pups were born.
Jim was broken hearted. He and “Queenie” mourned.
Then came the litter, but there was only one.
Jim struggled for hope; after all, he was Ol’ Blue’s son.
Dappled and lanky, a handsome little cuss,
He looked just like Blue. Jim made such a fuss.
Naming this pup would require no ado.
It was obvious. Officially, he would be “Blue Two.”
Oh yes, these were mighty large tracks to fill.
“Can he?”, folks asked. Jim would say, “Heck yes he will!”
So his nickname became “Two” and he seemed to be smart.
Soon it was time for his training to start.
The basics went well, but Jim’s outlook grew very dim
When, instead of pointing, Two would wag and jump and bark at him.
Oh, Two seemed to be trying; but try as he might,
He just could not seem to ever get it right.
“Blue’s son or not, he’s got to go!”
Jim found Two a “pet home” far away, in Tupelo.
On his way back, he stopped in Texarkana.
Been too long a time since he’d seen his sister Hannah.
Six days and six pounds later, he was back on his way.
Work at the farm was callin’ and he’d be drivin’ all day.
He thought about Ol’ Blue and wondered if and when
He’d ever have a birddog as good as Blue again.
Oh, he knew another “magic nose” was just a far off dream;
After all, it wasn’t something any man could scheme.
A “magic nose” was a gift from God, only given to a few;
And he was proud and very lucky just to have known Ol’ Blue.
As he turned into his drive, he broke into a smile.
“Why… I can’t believe it! It…It must be 300 miles!”
Two was on the porch, thin and dirty; but he struck a handsome pose.
Jim ran and hugged Two hard. “How’d you get back? Lord only knows!”
Suddenly Jim realized; and struck with awe, he slowly rose.
A tear trickled to his smile. “Why Two… you have a “magic nose!”
Two and Jim are best of friends, together everywhere.
From milkin’ cows to bedtime, Two is always there.
Jim doesn’t hunt much anymore, now Two’s a rescue dog.
Just last month, he saved a little girl lost in Cooley’s Bog.
Jim struts and tells proud, heroic stories;
While Two wags and jumps and barks, and shares his glory.
Jim boasts, “Like father, like son!”, then speaks fondly of Blue;
But all know the largest tracks to fill are those of Two.
His deeds are known far and wide,
And fill Jim’s heart with love and pride.
For with every rescue, the legend grows;
About a dog named Two, and his “magic nose.”
I am the breath of hells fire, breathing down the neck of humanity.
The unnamed death, striking fear within your ancient night mares.
A winged demon, biting at the back of the wind Gods themselves.
Mankind's tormentor by flame and earthquake, a creature spawned
Within volcanic lava, and woven spells cast by a wizards anger.
My hearts desire, is greed's lust, for a rich mans passion, a golden horde,
To touch it, is to bring deaths assurance, for it is mine, and mine alone.
A moon spirit of illusion, I seek thee, fleshes feast, by twilight's
Blackened hour, I so hunt, raw satisfactions carnal pleasures.
The righteous knight, kneels before his king, claiming victory or death,
In my hollows cave, many trophies of these men have I, as bloody
Souvenirs, shield reminders of nobility fallen.
Am I a myth, or just a legend, test fact to fiction, come if you dare,
Within my chambers lair, I'll show thee reality, by tooth and claw.
Beware mortal, for I have out lived many of your kind, and shall
Remain thus eternal.
For as long as hatred, and malice exist, so will my kindred thrive,
Amongst thy species.
Awaken me from my slumber, and know true pains reclamation,
Salvation's damnation, is to rue this day's sun rising, for you shall
Burn in it's embers crimson light.
Let the mountains crumble, seas swallowed by the oceans,
Behold the dragon remains alive, so am I the infinite divide,
A tidal wave, crashing against the shores of human habitat.
For I am the serpent, death's itselfs arch angel,
Known as the dragon.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
A hit and run of epic proportion The Easter conspiracy in motion The CIA FBI Interpol perplexed Who done it who will be next Scotland yard the challenge not met the Reg. The goose no longer lays the golden egg Public supply and demands satisfaction Who will it be it is up to you investigation Slow to the game the cards are on the the table The only glue you get a fable - for Lisa Cooper Poetessdarkly contest -Who murdered the Easter bunny? 3/5/2013
Lives passing by like a mirage
Stick images move through haze
The view is hard on your gaze
Footprints embedded in the ground
Echoes of the a time when life had a sound
Rolling in on hooves like thunder
Water draws the wildlife, like flies to a corpse in this valley of dry bones.
Chitake Springs, land of valleys, ridges, ravens, and dust.
Baobabs, sunsets, and elephant bulls in must.
Feelings come in with rain and are blown away with the wind.
Water draws life to its brim.
Life without it is pretty grim.
The river creates curved contours in the land
Painted in browns, yellows, and muddy blues in the sand.
Its colors melt together, soothing, and brewing.
Windy days and water bubbling
deep down in the belly of the earth.
As the heat sets in and the dust clouds grow.
The conflict of the titans comes to blows.
Brought with tension and strife,
Like distance thunder and rumbles,
tell of animals in strength of numbers.
As buffalo climb clumsily down the cliffs and valleys into the watery grave,
Eyes of predators peer from the bush as their prey
Strides to the sweet cool relief of the water
Little do they know that they are like sheep heading for the slaughter
As the heads of weary animals go down to drink,
tough though their determination be to savor every drop.
A presence they can’t escape is luring
Nerves on edge and fear brewing
The paws of death stalk with lighting precision
Until the animals are in clear vision
With an almighty dash of speed the chase is on
The game of life and death has just begun
Chitake Springs, drama is never far
Spoken of with a breath of excitement and terror
No one is ever quite sure of what to expect
Life is a balance of chance; this is the secret that is well kept
At the train station in Campiglia
Within sight of Elba Island
Stands the statue of a mongrel
A mix of a something Highland
The statue shows Lampo just sitting
His right paw aloft as if to shake
And facing the train tracks he watches
Just thinking which one he might take
Beloved by every railman
And those who rode Italy’s rail
Lampo the famed riding dog stands
And this is old Lampo’s sad tale
He came from the states in the 50s
To Italy so goes the tales
He lived a life that was quite different
The dog loved to just ride the rails
Now how he got left in Campiglia
The writer of this doesn’t know
The railmen there at the station
Simply let him come and go
Somehow he got to know schedules
Could tell a slow train from express
He managed to go some place each day
But where it might be was a guess
He always made sure not to go far
And to catch an connector each day
That took him right back to Campiglia
And he never once lost his way
Lampo – which means flash of lightening
Made over three thousand trips
Each day with everyone watching
Into a train car he slips
A station master in Rome once
Called Campiglia to see if he
Should put Lampo on the right train back
But Campiglia said let him be
So Lampo sat watching the trains run
Picked one and climbed on aboard
That evening he’s back in Campiglia
His reputation then simply soared
After that there was no stopping
This traveling dog or his fame
And tied to his collar were train stubs
Of all of the train station names
And you know this dog was quite friendly
And always knew which cars were best
To get a bite or to get petted
Or simply to just take a rest
Only once in eight years did he slip up
Asleep he just missed his last stop
But back tracking he finally got home
As train upon train he did hop
This feat said those local railmen
Could only be done by a man
Who had held a printed timetable
Of those trains right there in his hand
Ironically the four-legged hitchhiker
Died under the wheels of a freight
The kind of train he had avoided
As if maybe knowing his fate
It happened right there in Campiglia
The old dog had been feeling ill
He needed a boost from a trainman
He wanted to ride the train still
Nobody saw the dog jump off
As onto the train track he lay
But after the train left the station
Poor Lampo had just passed away
He stands guard now there in Campiglia
Silently watching the trains
The poor dog has not been forgotten
For always his memory remains.
Mrs Moppet decided to go to the beach
as it was such a sunny day.
Loading up her car with kids and picnic
they set off singing as they went.
The road was long and very twisty
and half way there with a loud noise
the car groaned to a halt.
Oh my said Mrs Muppet as clouds of
smoke rose up from the hood.
Luckily Mr Squirrel was passing by
he knew a thing or two about cars.
I will tow you to the garage he said
your rad pipe has a leak.
At the garage Mr Fix-it soon
had things back to rights.
So off they set, the kids singing again
and soon the sea was in sight.
They parked on the beach a-mid dunes
and the kids hopped off to play.
Not too far called Mrs Moppet setting
out the rugs and towels.
She set out the salad sandwiches,
and carrot cake a firm favourite.
From down the beach came a cry
Biily Muppet had got stuck between two rocks
Mrs Muppet tugged and tugged no way
could she get him free and the tide was coming in.
Bertie Badger seeing their plight came to help
and in the nick of time they pulled Billy free.
Time for food said Mrs Muppet inviting Bertie
to join them, just as they were tucking in up
blew a sand storm, burrow in and wait it out
it will soon pass and it did but the heavens opened
and down poured the rain soaking all the food.
Oh my said Mrs Muppet what else can go wrong?
Just then the rain stopped and out came the sun
only drinks left the food is ruined said Mrs Muppet
as a strong gust of wind carried off her grass hat
and her skirts blew up around her ears.
Brick-red in face she tugged them down quickly
lets go home moaned the kids this is no fun.
Packing everything up they set off for home
But fate was not yet done with them and
soon the car started started to buck along
Whatever now, oh no, we have a flat tyre
Mrs Muppet struggled hard to change the wheel
but could not remove one of the nuts.
It was growing dark and they were stuck
in the middle of nowhere. The kids huddled
close feeling scared as strange rustles and weird
noises filled the night air.
We may be here all night, said Mrs Muppet, lay
out the rugs and try to sleep.
The children settled down but found it too eerie,
weird noises surrounded the car.
Then came a tappety tap on the window
making them all jump. Who is it? wavered
Mrs Muppet. No need to fear it is only me
said Randy Rabbit, do you need some help?
Oh yes please Randy my tyre is flat and a nut
is stuck fast. No problem, said Randy I will sort it out
and setting to work he soon had it fixed.
Thank you, thank they all chanted and Mrs Muppet
invited Randy home for some dinner.
Arriving home she soon set out a tasty meal
and they all tucked in heartily.
Well now I am sure you can guess the rest,
they fell in love, married and eight weeks later
six tiny baby rabbits were born.
Which just goes to show every cloud
does have a silver lining.
From fathoms deepest keep, where man,
Shall not dare go, a white toothy giant
Dwells, with hatred's malice, this is a living man
Eater, whom lies at the bottom of the ocean.
In this striking zone, of deadly encounters,
Here where dead men tell no tails, crimson
Currents of the lifeless, float to the top of the food
Chain, and their last breaths of air explode, as
Bubbles above at the surface,
Leaving nothing behind but a bloody residue,
And the wreckage mangled life raft, and one word
Still lingers on the foreboding breeze, as a screams
Echoing drowns into whispers in silences last refrain,
Nay this aquatic Phantom, called Submarine,
Is the gray ghost that stalks within every human
Beings nightmares, just below the waves of our
Subconscious fears, a demon lurks in the darkness,
Of the murky shallows, waiting to take a bite
Out of us.
A thirty-seven foot killing machine, with razor
Blades of jagged ivory's, moving at velocities mega
Speed, heading straight for humanity's beach,
His favorite hunting grounds.
A leviathan of a shark, highly intelligent,
Circling his preferred prey called man,
The hunter is ready to appease his
Insatiable appetite that is never satisfied,
In a carnivores blood bath of mayhem,
Just off shore of paradise.
In hell's kingdom many souls scream from
Below one word that echoes through the
Chum filled surf above, SHARK.
For these are the latest victims, of
The Submarines wrath, and now they do
So warn the living, beware of this sharp
Look into the black eyes of death, take
Notice if he bares the scare of men,
And notches gouge mark on his dorsal fin,
For than thee shall know for sure, if
It is truly the gray ghost,
Known as Submarine.
If thou’ art sure, than say your final prayers unto God,
And inhale one last deep breath of air,
Than swim away, as fast as you can,
For humanity is now on the menu!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
The fox gnaws flaking muscle
From speechless rabbit, cold
In mind and body. Men shiver
As bodies dry, spat from river.
Rings of globes circle hands
Of the thoughtless, so beaten
From paths to be told of Him,
Waiting until eyes grow dim.
Walking among us is plague,
Standing above us is but love,
These winds will claw our youth
While faith entraps this truth.
Winter comes but we survive,
Breath and bones, colonies thrive.
Lamentations On Ocean Top
Sailing on a calm day
Surfaces of a criminal storm emerged
Seemingly lifeless but with power
Bent on malevolence
Forces of indifference
Towards babies and the needs of puppies on board
The disturbance had no decency
It carries all creatures to their end
With no cause or lamentation
The sea parts ways
Takes all remnants of stock and life
To be sunk and buried beneath the waves
Autochthonous (as indigenous) autocracy (as one rule) native to nothing
Touching the mortal core at every spill of wine and grace
The visual of the kill stabs at the heart of reason
And who knows what mercy lies beneath those savage seas
And who could touch that nerve of nature
That murders babies and their pets
That ruins ships and makes all navies but a speck
While spitting splinters in the face of justice
The yellow bright disc beams down
Like cutting shattered law on glass
Illuminating the debris
And beauty of nature
But no civility or honor shown in that same light
A mirror on the covered deaths
Went well beyond our understanding
Beneath the pulsing fluid turmoil
Only to end in rage and grief
And to that end I thank you
For keeping this to yourselves
And out of the reach of our tender young ones
Kill Da Wabbit
(a low IQ non fat Haiku)
Carrot hangs on branch
Kill da wabbit kill da wabbit
C.I.L.L....... da wabbit
THE ANICENT SPORT
In the ancient arena of the Gods sport,
Men and beast face off against death's final battle
To live or die.
The king of the wild lands, seeks freedoms calling,
He chokes at the rope of captivity, with the sharpened
Claws and jaws of death at his command.
Men heave to control him, to tame him, but he
Has tasted freedom's wind and roomed
Without chains heavy yolk.
Deny yearnings bequest, for that which
Lies within his heart, a noble creature,
Once a king amongst the beasts, he must
Be free or die inside.
A sacred statue stands in the desert,
It symbolizes Egyptian power and
The sphinx the blending of lion and men,
Joined together in the arena of the gods,
Born to be free, are both in the kindred
Spirit, of the desire to live.
My GRANDFATHER loved to work. His schedule from 3 am till 6 pm we were farmers
-we is a lot of people who's here?- He asks.
With the scream of a Legendary fighter we all say "We Are" proudly looking at each other. The cows have a special meaning to WE,
They were Nurture to be Healthy and Beautiful and were a Legendary Hobby after 6 meaning that they Shine, than won all trophy's for strength beauty and behaving. Cerneja was an Imperatriz, temperamental, always ready to fight for her kingdom. Here comes the one of many risk-free situations in a natural site in the Vasdos the the Luso-Amazonia between 4 cows and dozens of Bovidae mammals, sheep and goats included, and with Cerneja out of control trying (have done before) to sacrifice an innocent well nurtured and less beautiful for Cer-kingdom standards and a solution. From HIS 2 meters of an well balanced body structure holding a horn push and propelling with so much energy, Cer smash like a meteor to the floor over the farmers and Farmer and Animal kingdom stupefaction and our daze (the best,the Queen "Cerneja" almost a myth "and what about the empire-we thought". The kingdom always goes on.
Replaced Cer was sold for good money divided between the two owners (some animals like most of the land had more than one owner). The chirurgical eye of my HEART was so right and we were so wrong that Cer killed the unfortunate brand new owner and was given to the local slaughter house for THE FARMER unhappiness our dejection and all the WOMEN in the house joy In killing one of us instead one of others and Cerneja was evil-
What stays is GULLIVER well tied to a chair by dwarves (in any pattern out of NBA tallest) while naptime warding off a fly and waking up smiling and feigning stretching the tight ropes
-It's time to work
Farmers pay back with the same coin to each other-WORK- And money comes from selling shared properties animals and milk.
Sharing HERO type of stories always with coffee, good food and wine I was always involved in the exchange and legendary people are generally anonymous - in this particular that's not true for the heroism and courage stories but still will continue anonymous. Thank You For the Kindness and Patience and I hope You continue to Produce Alike because What We Got, Get For Free We Give Back For Free, Right!
Right or Wrong?
Starry knighted nightingale
Across Orion's eyes
I see the falling star a yonder bright
lit bright moon, before me' aye
Afar on earth with Cricky bound
mi Pooka guard before me'
I take a light of image snap
It dances hap, before me'
Ere it stood, eidolon par
Eerie don, ego, do atem me’
owe me a rose, amore rue,
es here etu, defend me'
He represents his set, with
Every breath he draws,
He makes color his priority,
Matisse with machine gun,
Splurging Rothko’s’ vengeance
On the blue bodies of Americas renegades.
A Blood, from Compton
The roar of stolen
Car engines, echoes through
The jungle as all human turns Tyger,
His dad was a coke dealer,
His mum was a dope fiend.
Guru had four brothers,
Who were all coke fiends.
All of them had been shot,
Over the contents of a crayon box.
They showed guru the jungle,
In which every fight was fought.
Guru kicks a tin,
Along his muddy path,
Seeing animal wield gun,
As the sizzling, searing hot sun
Over the city of angels
Tears at their flesh as they run,
Into the one way street of the animal kingdom.
In his grey, asphalt Amazon,
Were signs are trees and plant forna,
Concrete equates to mans honor,
Mercy runs dry, and the ground
Is rich. Blood killed and blood spilled
Hundreds are lying in every ditch,
Fertilizing the ground,
As the night erupts, again with sound.
Putting in work, blacking out color,
He had licked too much blood
To glint his teeth,
Behind his red stained whiskers.
He kicked his tin, and they shrank
From his red dripping whiskers.
The fabled customers,
Rattled in every night,
Paid for pockets of cocaine,
They didn’t think of,
Gurus’ hardship. But no pain
No gain, so he took it,
And dug his claws in it:
A game he couldn’t forfeit.
Guru kicked a tin
Along straights and bends.
He had shot a little boy,
With four bites from his friend.
He heard a roar,
Then felt the sound,
Of tigers paws
Padding on ground.
Tearing his back,
With vengeful bites.
Revenge was served
And left him dying, red
Oozing from his chest.
Another Tyger dead.
His brother will avenge him,
Banging in his head.
They met gurus’ dead eyes.
Disgust wetting their sheets.
The hardcore journalists,
Braving the beet,
Deprived of significance
By the red striped tiger,
And the friend at his side.