Home » Poems » Best » R Scorpious » Best R Scorpious Poems

Best Poems Written by R Scorpious

Below are the all-time best R Scorpious poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | R Scorpious Poem

Valley of the Virgins

Valley’s of sleep that hold on to virtue through the years,
Distant from the arms of  cities where vice and lust rule governments,
Where social values preach chastity to innocent hearts,
Where the earths depressions shelter Mr. and Mrs. Purity,
A v-shaped river valley of the virgins who roam there,
With rivers streaming from cities to valley’s that bleed desire,
Trapped they are by steep gradients with steep walls and narrow bottoms,
The cherubim keep shame societies there like puppets until the cherries blossom 
and ripen,
Valley’s of cherries tucked away by pseudo morality, un-pollinated and stamen 
locked up like relics,
Botanical gardens of exotic fruits and sacred flowers,
Kept there by valleys of locked up atriums where keys are closely watched by 
bishops,
Vestal virgins with holy books as bosoms and nothing else,
 In river valleys where streams of life’s juices are currents that flow in all directions,
Where church robes run from river baptismal’s of full immersion,
A sexual awaking blocked by dams that reach the heavens,
celestial ornaments of purity hung on swinging trees like botanical gardens to be 
picked, 
with winds that push and push until they are broken from branches falling below to 
rivers that carry them away from brother and sister virtue,
sexual appetites subdued by chastity belt covered mouths that kill truth searching,
Sexual liberation, and the separation of the spirit hold separate experiences like the 
sun and the moon,
finding the secrets that make the soul the soul requires a boat to carry souls 
through rites of passage,    
Horns are blown in glacial valleys to shake melting ice that flows leaving sediments 
of intimacy behind to germinate in spring,
Human nature is the flower pollinated by romanticizsim that breaks away from 
stems of adolescence and dogmatic aged tree branches,
Floating away in winds and water’s to cities where guilt is thrown off bridges,
rocks tied to feet where it sits at river bottoms like the Ganges,
only to resurface at the end of  life’s death with purity and wisdom.

Details | R Scorpious Poem

Because, I Have Loved

When love takes a hold of you,
Grab and take a hold of it,
Love, I remember as if it were yesterday when we met,
When I said hello,
When we first kiss,
those are memories I miss most,
And if my heart stays frozen,
Then no dusk fireballs have warmed it,
But, that I can not say,
It sat plump in the heart of inferno,
It danced the devils dance around fires with God watching,
Love keeps it there where it is flaming hot,
Once it has you, then you have it,
Once you have it, then it has you,
Love bounces hearts from cloud to cloud to cloud,
It will not let them touch the ground,
And when the beating drums stop,
When the marching band reaches its final route,
Hearts will burst with anticipation,
Leaping gazelle’s will leap into the lion’s mouth,
And they will both be one,
This is certain about love,
It doesn’t tell you its secrets upfront,
It encourages self-discovery,
And when you think you know it,
You don’t,
One thing that is always certain,
When you have loved,
When you have been loved,
The spirit desires it always,
This, I know,
Because, I have loved.

Details | R Scorpious Poem

I Am Man

When those words are spoken, written, to be a man or not,
Buzz says the bee, to discover what is he?
When the vortex of brains come calling all to reveal plots,
On dripping lips with open mouths that are caves of echoes, opened with skeleton 
keys,
The makeup of a man with gray and white matter speaking to him,
Seats of consciousness much more grandeur than the largest auditorium,
Fleshy pods of minds, bodies, and souls, that are glass snakes with broken penis 
limbs,
Regeneration of anger, hate, sorrow, despair, and love trapped in the hearts 
sunless atrium,
Driving on streets with war bonnets making exchanges with Julius Cesear in the 
passenger seat,
Boxing wrongs reminding us that we are men, and men we are,
Love letters from Sappho, slapping vulnerability, and veneered with eroticized heat,
Ermine men with life lessons spitting out the memories of nightmares,
Graveyards of bones with worm infested skulls, and dreams at rest,
 To be a man in life, to be a man in death, here, and there, he must live or die the 
noblest.

Details | R Scorpious Poem

If You Leave Me

That fragrant smell of you like jasmine,
When you are away, I don’t forget,
Do you forget mine?
The goodness of it I remember always,
I remember you,
Do I bring you goodness?
Will you remember me? 
A potpourri of dry flowers sit on your nightstand,
Waiting to be consumed by you,
If it talked, it would say I love you,
When you speak petals come out flowing,
When I listen to your words that drip to the floor,
I soak them up with my feet that have deep roots,
This, is completeness for me,
If you think to leave,
Then don’t come back,
I, will be gone too!
I won’t come back!
But, if you always love me,
Then, I will always love you,
If ever you should come to hate me,
I could never hate you,
I will lie down with crashing waves blanketing me,
Then, I will  be that sand particle floating effortlessly in the sea,
If you have killed your hate and look for me again,
Then look upon the fading sun in the horizon,
There, you will find me set free by the sea.

Details | R Scorpious Poem

Because Anger Surfaces To Breathe

This anger grows inside cavities of the soul,
It lives there,
Only to surface for air to keep it alive,
It comes from deep dark abyss’s and floats on oceans of the body,
Not often, or perhaps frequently it makes its presence known,

It cuts those close to it with razor sharp words,
It eats away at the heart slowly like a fungus,
It is a seed that sprouts from the bottom of bellies,
A clinging vine that takes over the inside of the body and the mind,

It is the controller of every movement,
Our legs, our arms, our hands, our sex organs, our heads, and are mouths belong 
to it,
We all know it well,
Children, adults, and the elderly know who put it in them,

It creates many paths in this life,
Some will travel to the gates of their heaven,
Some will travel to the gates of their hell,
Some will travel nowhere and limbo will be their best friend,

Anger has many faces,
It has the face of grief laid out under the desert sun dry of every tear,
It has the face of resentment, running like a raging bull,
It has the face of pain, like death reaching for life with wide eyes, 
It has the  face of injustice, and lady justice walking away laughing without her 
scales,

Why must it live?
We know were it comes from,
We know what keeps it alive,
It murderer’s the true anima,
A fury, that imprisons life.

Details | R Scorpious Poem

He Who Is Not Loved

Has a cold sad heart,
Winding down like a clock with its parts,
The days and years are shorter,
They would be longer if he is a courter,
Those hearts are lost in winterstorms,
Snowflakes falling into nothingness that mourn,
With trees that follow with their permanent shades,
Killing hearts slowly with branches that are blades,
Those weary souls that cry at night,
Trapped in hell by hearts that never see light,
And when that love door is opened wide,
Hearts will mingle and walk with stride,
They pet and pet love set free,
Comforting under bright hot suns colossally,
That love that stare’s in the face,
Will make men whole on this earthly place,
Pollen blowing through the air,
Unleashed by pistols fired everywhere without despair,
To depart this world with seeds left behind,
A man’s lot is love immortal and she is kind.

Details | R Scorpious Poem

Suicide Dogs

Dead dogs in the streets,
I know why,
Internal organs spilled,
inside out, now outer-organs everywhere for all to see,
If things could be like they were before,
There would be no whimper's or sigh's,
A pup that is most played with is always glee,
No, you do not forget what it is to be a pup,
Tickled and toyed with chasing after masters,
Grown and forgotten with iron gates and wooden doors now shut,
You have felt the swift blow of repudiation,
What a disaster,
Forced journey’s now taken to nowhere,
Throw-aways that nobody care’s for stray in flocks,
city streets alluring calling them as they swagger along and find a great big scare,
Flashbacks of their puppy years torment them and they stumble along in shock,
Dogs crossing streets in traffic to find sanctity,
Alone, recollecting distant gaieties searching for hope and that far gone scent,
Car’s trampling bodies like insects snuffing lives out, 
over and over the sounds of cracking bones amplified like the ringing bells of a 
church,
Without pity,
suicide dogs, a sea of bloody mush,
Noticed, now, with only the head and snout intact by pedestrians,
With their snouts wide open as if to speak or yell. 	
They, 
Now,
Listen!