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Violence Adventure Poems | Violence Poems About Adventure

These Violence Adventure poems are examples of Violence poems about Adventure. These are the best examples of Violence Adventure poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Haiku |

Pirate Bay

```Pirate Bay the Haiku``` 

pirates fierce and mean 
drowning fish, sea to sea 
parrots on their butt 

```Polly Wants A Cracker``` 

bloodthirst & brutal 
Quartermaster Gone Wild 
dirty wings on deck 

```Sea World Adventure``` 
ship crew goes on strike 
sailing the Caribbean 
wooden leg splashing 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Water Wall

As he slept in tranquil dream, 
Suddenly he flew, it seemed. 
Thrown and landing on the floor, 
Shaking walls and splintered doors. 

Just as quick, the room grew still. 
Distant tremors he could feel. 
Out the door, and up the rock, 
There he stood in sleepy shock. 

How could oceans disappear. 
Then a hissing he could hear 
And a trembling, heavy roar 
Headed for an empty shore. 

Sunrise turned a greenish hue, 
As he climbed, a better view. 
Seeming far too large, he saw 
What must be a water wall. 

Thought of ancient stories told 
Of a wrath that could unfold; 
Sucking oceans with a breath, 
Spewing endless waves of death. 

Instinct quickly cleared his mind. 
Panic now, he clawed and climbed. 
Up, despite the screams he hears, 
As a village disappears. 

Once an evil came to call, 
Scooped them up and took them all. 
Now he's old, his stories wane, 
Of the morning Satan came.

Gene Bourne 




Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

The Undyings' Curse

Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
 rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star

Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw 
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries

A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought  by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Cowboy |

The Outlaw's Angel, Part II

...Burke grabbed Aura and they both ran out,
riding double on his trusty horse.
The word raced quickly through the town,
a posse was formed, as a matter of course.
So Burke pushed his mount, more and more.
They couldn’t go back, despite acts justified,
not when two men, one a sherriff, had died.

So they rode, pursuers hot on their trail,
until they reach a ranch high the peaks.
Burke pulled a gun while Aurelia seized
a new horse, both study and sleek.
The rancher fumed, too angry to speak.
Burke apologized, gave him all his gold,
then sped off again into mountains cold.

Two days passed, the posse drew close,
and both their horses started to flag.
No longer able to outrun their hunters,
Burke mad camp high up in a crag,
where he could shoot safely if they attacked.
The posse appeared in the meadow below,
lead the by the sherriff’s oldest, known as Milo.

“Surrendor now, or we’ll shoot you down!”
They shouted it as they stared to climb.
But before Burke could even open his mouth
the air exploded with shrill, Indian cries.
A horde of Bannocks their arrows let fly!
They swept into the meadow, circling fast.
The posse died quickly, not long could they last.

Burke and Aurelia hid low in the rocks
until the last of the Bannocks had left.
Not much was left of the posse below,
they lay still, and were mostly scalpless.
But one figured crawled amongst the dead.
Burke climbed down, still clutching his gun,
and loomed over the sheriff's bloodied son.

“You won’t believe me, but I’ll say it now,
I acted only out of self-defense.
You’re father and Grisby were gunning for me,
and Grisby was putting his hands on my friend.
There choices brought them to their ends.”
But Milo just snarled, and crawled away,
Burke and Aura sighed, and left him that way.

No one from Tillico ever saw them again,
even when Milo put a bounty of their hides.
Some say they made for themselves new names
and peacefully lived out their lives.
Others said, like most outlaws, they died...
And if you all liked this tale that you just heard,
Tell your friends about me, Bruce Bowden the Third.

Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017

Details | Dramatic Verse |

Chronic Pink

~~Chronic Pink~~ 
(Parents Peril * The Nightmare)

Evil sits and whispers - sweet lullabies
Chimes within my head,
Damnation scratches at my conscious
Of what was and is!


Water runs down my toes
Rain taps at my windowpane
A fear; I relive my childhood days
~~Dark April showers bring in a chronic look~~
Motions before daybreak, to face a colorless what!

The trickle of musty wind meshes under my skin
The panic begins to initiate the voices
Unstable - a gash of blood fills the mind


Dark feelings pollute the inside my head
Visions of slitting my wrist from end to end
My  subconscious betrays my sanity
Praying is what got me through the dark-mares.
I held my own hand that very night
Telling myself it would be all right



Walking down the narrow hall
The Chimes, the Chimes!
Snapped into a moment of crime
The trail of Sweet lullabies came from my parent's room 
Shhh!!! Hush now, *humming to the evil chant*
Whispers of dust whisk through the air
I grab the envelope opener, 
My heart pumps, piercing each neck
One by one, they look up -IT WAS ME-
A demonic child’s laughter erupts
A Chronic Pink look

Pacing off the bed
What have I done?

Cries of nothing led me back into my room.
There and only there, water sits under the sheets
The emptiness in my head was the sign of complete
Falling asleep to the quietness around the room
Waking up to, the parents peril sight every night

My subconscious holds no sympathy
To: relive the same chronic pink memory
AGAIN- I begin to hear the sound of scratching violins
Where dreams of demons wear pink


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |

A Soldier's Elegy

A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
tranquility gurgles 
through silent valleys
over mountains
around the earth
through the wind

The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
adrenaline overrules
their ambient warning

Gust to gust each fades 
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts

The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird

Two brittle forms 
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
and protects 
what can never be touched
divine oblivion 
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt 
six feet deep.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

The Life For Me

 Snapping and cracking and whipping we sail.
 Sneaking and creaking and sinking t' hell.
 Black flies our banner, black as our souls,
 Black as a storm dashing ships on the shoals!

 Fear us and flee us, yea, run if ye can.
 Or face us and fight us down t' the last man.
 Black flies our banner, blacker than coal,
 Black as death's cowl, we'll swallow ye whole!

 Blasting and bursting and bombing we fire.
 Bleeding and weeping and wailing yer dire.
 Black flies our banner, and Roger so jolly
 Shall be fer yer tombstone, a mark o' yer folly!

 Yea, we own the water, the wind and the waves.
 These oceans t' ye shall be watery graves.
 Black flies our banner, black as our souls,
 We are the storm dashing ships on the shoals!

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Physically and Mentally Abuse

I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear

Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm

When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane

I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes

I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries

I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs

As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call

With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The Lonely Army

When wind’s silence 
heralds boundless oblivion
and the trembles of cracked earth
raise the dust of tears
dried by the boundless footfalls
of sallow flesh

When a thread of gold
brings unearthly thought
and the misconception
of suns fallen
drives foolish men to their knees
in unending tremors

An army of one
frees the air from his fingertips
and stays not his opal blade
as it bites the rotted gray necks 
of kings released from their wrongful bliss
by his trembling palms

An army of one
unconstrained by nature’s volume
freed by the sin of his naivety
yet, bound by earth’s oldest secret
as the scarlet sun weeps
its bloodied tears

An army of one
his cloak worn through
by the acid blood of his deception
and his bones stilled; 
the branches of a dying oak
which no longer caress the wind

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Jungle Warfare - Vietnam War

The slickness of a blade
pressing against a throat....
the cold steel meeting tender flesh
blood drips and a body tumbles 

the taste.... the sight... the sound....
all quite euphoric.....

Ripped clothes, smashed items, 
echo screams, and the raging fires that glow throughout the night

The beauty.... the savagery.... the destruction
all quite euphoric....

Copyright © Antonio Ball | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Nothing More Or Less

Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
Imagination trims
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Hollywood rounds
Quills deliver
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less

My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less

I cringed for originality 
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED 
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less

Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark 
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

Sea Wolves

Searchin' the waves for sight of a sail. 
Throwin' back hearty tankards of ale. 
" Sails to port, " the lookout did call. 
So excited was he that he nearly did fall. 
Closin' in on the prey excitement grows. 
In less than an hour we'll come to blows. 
Ocean spray feels good on my face. 
Closer and closer we're winnin' the race. 
" Weapons in hand, " I cry from the poop. 
My wolves get ready as we near the sloop. 
The vessel did gleam, she's a true beauty. 
My blood is boilin' for my pirates booty. 
" At her lads, " I yell through a death grin. 
We swarmed so fast the fight did barely begin. 
The fight was swift but it was bloody. 
After spyin' the treasure I knew we'd been lucky. 
Out of the chest gold spilled to the deck. 
Loot her and burn her, we'll sink this wreck. 
Back to our ship we take our loot. 
Survivors on the plank their gettin' the boot. 
Twas just another day in a pirates life. 
You've got to be quick and sharp as a knife.

Copyright © Scott Williams | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |


I'll tell ye of me life as a pirate
I knows ye sees me as some old codger
But when I was a young'n matey
I sailed 'neath the Jolly Roger!

Oh, it's truth I be tellin' ye now
'N ye may think that I be a loon
But I talk so rever'ntly 'bout me ship 'n Cap'n
For in truth, 'E made us dance a lively tune.

'E wore a patch o'er one eye
'N had a hook where fingers grow.
When we 'eard the thumpin' of 'Is  peg leg on deck
We knew some ship 'd be given up 'er cargo.

We'd be a'squintin' 'ard at the 'orizon
'N  'Ed  call for 'Is telescope to measure
If the sail that we'd come upon
Mightn't be a ship full o' a'rn kind o' treasure.

Then we'd sail up nice 'n cozy
A'fore 'Ed  run up the bones on black.
But by that time matey
They could not withstand a'rn attack.

"Shiver me timbers, All hands on deck!" , came 'Is  shout
For 'E was a Taker 'n ne'er a Giver.
It's many a time me eyes  'd see 'Im
Cuttin' out some poor soul's liver.

Oh, some tried to fight,
The foolish tried a runnin'
But the Cap'n made well sure
They'd get a'rn full broadside gunnin'.

We'd jump o'cross the ratlines with daggers  a'tween a'rn teeth
Oft times we'd skewer the entire crew
Then take 'ER  plunder aboard a'rn vessel
'N sink t'othern down to Davey Jones...so thar'd behind be left no clue.

Then the Cap'n set sail for Tortuga
Thar be plenty of Rum  'n  Women for us thar 
Ye still don't believe I was a pirate?
All I can say is..."ARRRRRRRRRR"!

Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

To The Bank And Ballroom Delights

            To The Bank And Ballroom Delights

Right here right now explosions!... excited fuses!... Bombs going off!
In the back ally by the river bank
History rising to gun shots, balloons and music
Too fast to stop as something goes off
Ballroom dancing in the dark next door
Stumbling into the bank
Alarms going off.  Shots going off.  Babies screaming for a change
Drinks in three or more hands or so it seems
A little blurred and fuzzy on the scene
Music blaring, people dancing
Yellow wall flowers flying off the walls 
Exploding, floating on the edges 
With my sweetie peach we dance all night
In hand in flight over silver lights, flashing reds overhead
Music rocks history to death in the speed of numbered steps
Caresses of my baby warm against the flesh
Power drums pounding at the door of love
Feels so real, moving slowly, growing into building rhythms 
Primordial religions spinning on in joy  
Tearing yellow flowers off the walls
Hurricane bands of magic raining down on clouds of love
Enhancing, advancing on the living floor
Holding on to dear life, my sweetie pie and I 
Guns in our pockets as we rock
We came to rob a bank
Where did it go
Someone pointed to outside
Next to the disco tech is the ballroom dancing hall
By the river bank next door

11/21/14 Ballroom Delights - Poetry Contest

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epic |


Quick bold drums start out loud 
Pounding out the terms of war 
Race through the frantic jungle thick
Rhythms of pursuit take to the beat

Let the chase begin with heart in mouth
Track down the sun burnt frantic man
Stripped naked by his captives
They pushed him into foliage of the doomed 
Now running through entanglements
Strangled in the vines for ancient crimes
Hate has no boundaries when not of the clan
Primal blood can not be satiated

Carbon men shoot long arrows, cannon fire from the camp
Small dark people with evil minds advance
Send the prey into unkind environments

To grounds and undergrowth with shouts
Demise looms on horizons mist for him
Already tortured from the womb
On pounding feet he bleeds while pressing through
In strange surroundings with open wounds                                       
Shots ring out after the enemy make the naked prey
Lay eyes on him in day light with pure hate
Follow every footfall falling on the ground

The ugly trees take a couple of hits
Splinters fly out, shatter living wood, as their demise is sure

Old riffles and loaded guns come with the hunters
Limited only by so many bullets screaming through the trees
To kill their prey, to bring the head back intact
Numbers don't lie.  Momentum is on their side

Why the man has gone missing is a mystery
A cause for strain with sweat and grimace
Small men with evil minds intent become confused

Bugs gather around the fugitive
Make configurations for a meal
Moving keeps him from them and their appetite

He runs in heat with fear and heavy lungs
Filled with humidity he breaths no peace

Keeping quiet requires concentration
The wind must cease to speak for silence
Hiding is a science

Snakes want more than the mosquito
No time to turn about or study wings or feet-less creatures
Insects survive by flying from disaster
He follows them into the swamp
Lives under water for awhile
A long hollow reed for breathing
Comfortable for a time with larva breeding
Tickling his frail and fragile body
There is nothing wrong with wanting to survive
Life, like bullets, fly by


Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku |

This Is War

Flint-lock alarm clock,
A blooming Lotus whispers,
Speaking while death knocks.

Enter the Grineer,
Led by their slaver captain,
Vor, whom they revere.

Servant to his Queens,
Seeking hope for his clone race,
Corrupted by greed.

Pure vampiric thirst,
Stalking sacred metal crypts,
For our holy blood.

To be clapped in chains,
Seconds after waking is,
A harsh good morning.

My power's severed,
Soft as a petal she stirs,
Polarizing shifts.

Tingling fingertips,
An awakening occurs,
Underneath my skin.

When my hands extend,
The earth quivers before me,
Laws of physics yield.

Between explosions,
And a daring escape plan,
I find my freedom.

My own dingy ship,
At least I have a first mate,
Ordis and his...friend.

Soundless we wander,
Waging war for the Tenos,
At Lotus's command.

Vor's campaign will end,
By the hands of gravity,
Tremble before me.

Copyright © Michael Zavaletta | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epic |

The Coldest Dish: Chapter One

"The Coldest Dish:  Chapter One" 
by: Silent One and Eric Boddie

This is the story of an old ancient Chinese master, 
for those who challenged him, it only resulted in disaster. 
Built like steel, flexible like elastic, Kung fu was his game, 
in every contest, every participant feared his name. 

Throughout his Life, he mastered so many styles 
All stemming from the day his home was defiled 
As only a baby, the Black Lotus killed all his next of kin 
And in the 40 years that passed, he was consumed with getting revenge 

Years of pain, had slowly built rage inside, 
the black lotus was afraid, he had nowhere to hide. 
With his Shaolin sword, the kung fu master set off in his quest, 
after 40 years of training, he was at his lethal best. 

After days and days of travel, the first destination was reached 
The school atop the mountain where the black lotus teached 
Quickly and silently, blood flooded the entire room 
The master showed no mercy in creating this bloody tomb 

The black lotus relied on his ferocious dragon claw, 
but the kung fu master defended with the tiger paw, 
attacked with a venomous flying kick and broke his jaw, 
pierced his heart with his sword, such brutality was the law. 

But there was a sound behind the wall, what could it be 
Not yet dead, the black lotus looked on in such pain and misery 
The master removed the wall to find black lotus' wife and daughter who was with child 
The master then said, "REMEMBER MY FAMILY!!!," coldest dish style 

Yet he had a heart, he spared them and showed mercy, 
after all he knew the pain of loss and showed them sympathy. 
Putting his sword away, he walked away, accomplishing his revenge, 
but these stories never end, as one day the child will look to avenge. 

5 August 2015

Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |

Green Eyed Monster- A Love Story

            Green Eyed Monster - A Love Story

So, I headed home to me flat from a hard day’s night
Working in the coal mines for a quid or two
“Just outside Londondary”, me says, when some busy body inquires
I goes right home to find me bed
Right quick and fast since I’m exhausted 
I finds me ugly gal Sal with some guy there
Doing some unkind deeds upon me pillow
That I can’t rightly explain right here and now
Being a gentlemanly kinda fellow that I am and seeing red
I says to Sal, “Watcha doing deary?!” “What’s that in me bed?”
She says, “Nuffin love.”  “I just finished the wash and found this bloke in here
And I’m all flustered, and as surprised as you.”
As a rule me complexion is as white as these sheets once were
I becomes hysterical, flushed and weird and fumbles for me gun
“Where’s me bullets deary!” I query of the misses.
But she’s as quiet as a mouse.
Now I’m in a frenzy and frothing at the mouth
“Don’t let me get me belt out or a knife!” I yells out to the wife
“Let’s keep it nice and easy!”
I finds the bullets, fills the chambers, shoots in their direction
I missed them both
But halted the copulation or repopulation
Which ever comes first

Created on 11/25/14 for “The Green Eyed Monster” – Poetry Contest

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Speed on the Dangerous Lane

A hasty travel, carrying with it violence’s hue From the sky, helicopter follows the dangerous view From the up, the ground is littered with scattered crates Observing this run closely to ensure there aren’t any secrets No other option and it’s too late to hide Flying on wheels entering corners void of a guide So much adrenaline moves and constantly gives an itch as high gears interchange in a regular switch. Steering commanding the road with no grace sirens on its dangerous execution they face. Hurt on anyone around, accident proclaims daring the road to put traffic in flames. Criminals on the run chocked in the inside as men in uniforms give a matched ride. Running everywhere, carrying the exhibit like starch beats everything on the street to avoid the catch. Little confusion on different points quite focal driving in command like an authority seemingly local. Catching up the pace to end this mess is required hitting the target vehicle, the right has been acquired.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Last Night

Last night I dreamt
I haven’t had a dream in Christ knows how long
I dreamt a dream that shook my soul
I dreamt of the glorious uncontrollable freedom I once knew
Of an old friend estranged
Two blocks from where I now lay
I dreamt of sparks crackling from a flame
-of smoke bellowing into some abyss
-of fireflies dancing into infinity
I dreamt of stupor
Of love
Of Rock Music
I was there, unspoiled, unadulterated, unyielding
I was in pursuit of god knows what, I was ALIVE!
I was seeing the lie, believing I would transcend it
I dreamt of loud party’s in spinning rooms
I dreamt of beautiful intoxication
I dreamt of a party so large the floor fell out from beneathour feet
I dreamt of ear shattering nonsense statements
Preached to the world from front lawns for the world to hearin its three am sleep
I dreamt of myself
I dreamt of a young man enticed by the glow of an entirebottle of tequila
Caught up in a moment of pure insanity and hormone
 One in which heboldly grabbed a girl by her arm and professed his desire to make love to her
The boyfriend looked at him in amazement and confusion asthe two had been holding hands
I dreamt of seemingly endless journeys to nowhere
Forever lost
But to my dismay always found again
I dreamt of pure, real, untainted love
I dreamt of the bewildered eyes upon me as it manifested in uniquedemented ways
My back against a wall
 Adrenalinepumping as I heckle her like a carnie
challenged like a child in a school yard dare  
A knife
My chest
A drop of blood
A captive audience trying to make sense of the madnessunfolding
In an explosion of energy I fell from my dream
I landed so hard it tore my dog in a dumbfounded terror fromher own sleep
I sat up
I reflected
I ached to go back
My head so full of thoughts, emotions, and creativity
I grabbed a pen
I used to feel
I used to dream
I used to express and create
This morning I wrote for the first time in years.
-J. DeSantis

Copyright © Jason DeSantis | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Automatic Pen

            Automatic Pen

Pure white paper laid wide open on the desk
Virginity called into question from four sides
Paper never gives interviews before retiring
Never past 7:00 pm or there about that time
Pen attacked the page with explosions and burst
Black and blue rained down pure and furious
A case of pen to paper abuse
Residual ink spattered on shoes
Pen bled out, flew everywhere with oval droplets landing
Like blood splatter spewing on ceiling, walls and floor
Pure white paper had no chance against this rage
Pen hit it hard in rapid succession of random words
Scratched on the surface of the frightened white
Scarred for life
Pen had no owner or mind behind it
Cruel actions come naturally, automatic
Untouched by human hands
When confronted with pure white paper pens go crazy
They were raised that way

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Breeding the Cull

"Hear me." that’s how it always starts. Some loud mouthed tyrant stepping on the backs of his followers, to throne the salted vigor of his speech.
"Hear me!" 
"Follow me into this place, unknown maybe, but full of gifts to those willing to take it from the mouth of destiny, I assure you. The FATE that you…Yes YOU have earned with your blood, your sweat, your SACRIFICE! For you have left the bed of your woman, to fight for your country, for your KING! Do you not deserve the respite of hunger, of shelter? Have WE not earned that?”
And the crowd’s hungry stomachs tremble beneath the throe of desperate and determined screams both invoked and festered by the name they call KING; who seeks only to grip a longer whip, to reach further than the crown before him. 
"Hear me!" "So I may show you the way, to freedom!”
The lash of a tongue, is sometimes much stronger than that of a whip..
for it is much more deceiving.
 -James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Cat Captivated

            Cat Captivated

Crowds gather at a distance stunned
By the beauty, the pacing creature’s wilds
A roar that chills the jungle calm
They draw closer but not inside
Thick iron bars prevent that action
Being captured has its draw backs
With wild colors of the beast
Jailed for being pretty and pretty mean
Black with red-orange stripes can signal danger
He is not there to entertain or sooth the mortal soul
Tiger reaches, leaps beyond itself at you
Sharp claws and teeth extended
Wants more than your attention
Not interested in making friends outside the cage

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Fading Anguish

Forced down onto the thick mud
the stench of this rotten blood
Determined for this to be surreal
My fate would change if it were real

My life begins anew In my head
From the time mother put me to bed
Father took me to my first Yankee’s game
Where I was inspired by their fame

To keep the kids soundly in bed
My blood, I fear, I must shed
Not knowing whether I would live or die
the anguish is consuming my thigh

The pain is slowly dying out
my destiny is nothing but a doubt
Laying on the red infested loam
Guadalcanal, you are my last home.

Copyright © Jorge Torres | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

My EcoTherapy Foundation

The day United Ways
slurp some Reality Stew
we will change this name
to The Same Ol' Competition Way;
cheering for ever-more community support 
with the same constituency
we are teaching to over-power each other
for both community support and service.
Our United Way systemically grows
a Divided Fail.

The day our Philanthropic Foundation
absorbs some multiculturing fertility,
we will learn to ask whose foundation is this really?
Are we a Foundation of inclusive cooperation?
A Foundation with Golden Rule
applied to all species living now
and in our global future,
incarnating through our Elder species 
for mutually optimizing regenerative purpose?

Are we a Philanthropic Foundation
created by people
who deeply cared about sustaining life's integrity
for seven generations?
Perhaps even more?
Are we more a Foundation of confusing mobbed competition
for scarce resources,
or a Foundation for regenerating abundant contentment,
optimized economic policies for cooperative
ecological health and well-being networks;
for minimizing suffering and exploitive commodification,
economic decomposition of Earth's natural elements and systems;
a pro-life Commons
racing to win diverse harmonies 
before losing our dreams
of teleological faith?

Could we become a Foundation for optimizing public policies
for mutually cooperative mentoring
of vocational choice,
of permaculturally,
multisystemically functional, maybe even deeply creative, families
and thereby communities?

We stand within this permacultural Foundation
for cooperative mutual-investment guilds,
consumer and producer networks,
Climax Communities
for growing global consciousness of eco-balance identity,
Earth Care as Self and Other Care,
revolutioning this ReGenesis Foundation,
with both interior and exterior landscape applications,
both YinTime and YangSpace eco-function metrics,
mutually mentoring Earth's polyculturally cooperative eco-logic.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Started to Slowly Sail

Started to Slowly Sail

She slowly started to sail out to sea
To America, far better place to ever be
Cruise would have to cross the Atlantic
Tremendous, great ship was the Titanic.

Several ports Titanic did travel through
Like many large ships usually may do
Gathering up passengers here and there
Leaving loved ones behind was hard to bare.

Turned out that it had been late at night
Passengers were to become full of fright
Maiden voyage of Titanic ran out of luck
So sadly a big iceberg soon was struck.

Some drowned at sea never seen again
While others into a lifeboat did jump in
And past this incident finally would fade
Until recently about it a movie was made.

Movie centered around necklace with a jewel
That proved to provide a thoughtful tool
To base part of moving, marvelous movie on
And to see it millions of people have gone.

Along with jewel was an arduous love affair
Between two who were an important player
In the very end she they were sure to save
And loved one now exists in a watery grave.

Never again ever can another compare
With this movie and my poem want to share
About Titanic that one day on sea did abound
And silently slipped into sea without a sound.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
We must realize that much of the movie is fiction.

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

A Remorseful Life

 Thorns piercing through my heart while it's burning. Vines flowing out of my soul, and I look to the sky. Hallelujah, I'm alive. Hallelujah I'm whole.

 Smoke of cigarettes flame out into the open. Feelings of charm and warmth pass across my lungs. I see twelve or more dwarfs marching in rows. One of them stepped on my toes.

 Planes flying into the fog, and women being rapped in the alleys. The life we lead are lies, planned out like puppets from another dimension.

 Time can't save us. We save time to save us. The sun goes down, and everything is quiet. Birds chirping, and the wind blowing white snowflakes onto my face.

 Walking passed the church. Blood on White. Everything's a fight. We rise to the golden gates and we look upon the spirits.

 The leaders and missions fail. It's not the end of this tale, when soon there will be more blood shed. Anger and hatred have no room. Live the life you are born to lead, or you will just be another blood on white.

Copyright © Teresa Habas | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Bed Label

A cloth tag on my bed disturbs me
So much so that it woke me up from sleep
I prayed that it would go away
In reality it will be there till doomsday
But that's not all
I know the ways of labels 
They get their way
Manufacturers protect them
So does the law                                              
It reads as plain as day
“Do Not Remove This Tag Under Penalty of Prosecution
or Persecution”
Some such nonsense…something like that….
It's too much for a simple man like me
I fear authority and prison
But I can't continue with this obnoxious thing
First, I placed a pillow over it
Tags don't need oxygen to breath
Labels are persistent, persevering
Even resolute in their condition to prevail
I could shoot it with a gun
No.  That's no good
Smoke and noise don't scare it
Bullets hardly tear it 
A relentless dangling appendage to the end remains
Clinging to the ends of beds
Duct tape was next 
But I knew that words continued underneath
Also hidden by sheets
The butcher knife would have to do
Savagely removed…blood curdling rips and cuts
I blew a fuse..... My bed is new
No one could refute that now
Now my life is through
I am tagged as a bed label fugitive
Furniture police men hunt me down
I could be executed… or incarcerated
Made to make amends, repairs… or even face the chair 

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016

Details | ABC |


Here and there its just you
if you turn on your radio
your tv
your news
everywhere its you, when 
will you be tired of killing?
When will you be tired of 
When are you going to 
notice that we are tired of 
Your name scares even 
little kids,we get tired of 
hearing from you always
we will love it when you 
disapear but it seems you 
will never do,so believe us 
or not we will help you get 
away from our lives

Copyright © Dinha Melcy | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |


I'm am up on the cliff lying down prone
tossing some sticks throwing some stones
until i heard him say get ready
then i aim my rifle steady
He said wait!
as i lined up the dot 
he said now!!
as i fired the shot
as the bullet hit we seen an expressionless face
we got up and ran at a very fast pace 
as we were going home i thought back to that moment
he had a family but i had to own up to it
Because we are grunts and are done what we are told 
even when we don't want to But that's a burden we must hold 
because we were trained that way 
and that way we will stay.

Copyright © Diet Water | Year Posted 2016