Asps Poems | Examples

Red Bears and Glass Snakes

Big brother on the corner and in the sky 
Big sister in the mixed bathroom
With a finger in your apple pie.
Credit cards only -no need for cash
the eagle has both talons on every greenback.
An unholy border along the banks of the Rio
no cash bail for all those cartel and fentanyl fellows...
and they call me crazy for having lead dreams...
under my .38 caliber pillow.

While the red bear mauls its neighbor
the dragon slides steadily toward Taiwan
Ten asps are slowly surrounding 
the dearest children of God. 

Thousands of buzzards in plutonium nests
scanning the plains of Armageddon
for a couple of beakers of flesh.
 
But it'll be God who has the last laugh
as he slings a giant blue stone
and turns every snake into shattered glass.

Climbing Vines

The paring knife of winter
undams the dense brown
blood. Asps awaken and seethe—.

Twining stems sweat,
Irregular coralla dance
around your feet, pray at your altar.

Children of the soil, meek
and mirthless—no currency
save the smooth skin of spring.

Flexous philosophies, grown
splendidly in the shade
do not flower well in sunlight.

Black axillaries, soft feather!
Cower in the green heat,
pull away in kindness. 

The slate gray scrape of whetstone
Sunlight sharpens her blade—
a smile carved through the clouds.

Grasp My Gaps With Many Asps

Grasp My Gaps with Many Asps

Friendships Demise

Oh, shed no tear for friendships last gasp.
When the fangs, finally show, a poisonous asp!

Run for your life, head for the highest hill.
The innocent acting asp, on your tail for a tasty kill.

Friends can be asps, don’t you know?
As deadly as frostbite on a frozen toe!

They despised gullible you, having such fun.
You thought them sincere, you are a dumb one!

Worse, you wrote sweet, loving tributes to them?
The asp, chortling with laughter like an old hen.

And now left with few friends, you trusting,old fool.
While the asps, eyes shine, laughing at gullible….. you!



                              9/20/2022
                                   ~1~

Potestades Virgo Case

only things grown in the ground remain
but mismatched without the hand of man
see that they dodge beautiful
their languishing longitudinal vegetable bodies
never suffer fracture the stems with fruits
and their armor and weapons, bark and branches
trees
no, I didn't think our past was decent
humans
if you ask me about those days of debauchery
we were building ourselves up like the men we now are
with wars and ironworks asps vertices vortices cusps
and it was discovered that it is easy to be reborn another
improvement is advisable
there is only one exit after a wall called brain
then the field we learned to cultivate
now this is what we are having mastered cultivation
homunculi like scattered tares sprouting without end
the power of some being the downfall of others
history built with annihilations
and then the progress
the home appliances
microwave TV freezer wire and electricity
then bytes and bits
now nanoeverything
tomorrow AI and nothing more.

Deception

Truth eludes a man.
Searching eyes.
He finds deceit.
Sunglasses cover.


Rouge camouflages.
Daylight illuminates.
Poison asps.
Drip blood.

A Christmas Prayer Poem For 2020

A CHRISTMAS PRAYER POEM FOR 2020

Exiled to our homes,
We sit, so many of us alone.
Outside, in a world a whirl,
In which darkness and fear swirl,
We peer for your light,
A respite from our soul’s blight.

In his mountain cave, a grieved,
You appeared to Elijah in a breeze.
Young Mary in the midst of her chores
Surprised by the Angel’s word.
Shepherds startled from a drowsy watch
By the Angels exultant shout.
We seek for that which so many long,
A “Glory Hallelujah!” song.

As this year ends,
O loving God, send
Us the reprieve which we seek,
In the One born so humble and meek.
Whose word set straight the crooked road,
And valleys and mountains laid low
In which the lion and lamb peacefully lay,
And children and asps safely play.
Our world awaits your loving embrace,
May your peace fill our dwelling place.

© 2020. By Robert Charles Wagner.

Making Concessions

Wasps and bees and grasshopper knees waiting to sting and scratch,
Give them an inch and they respond with stings and holes to patch.

Wren and finch and grosbeak syrinx waiting to burst with song,
Give them a glance and they reply with lusty sings-a-along.

Frogs and toads and mud puppy legs waiting to pump water,
Give them a push and they react as diving sea otters. 

Snakes and asps and burrowing bugs waiting to slither back,
Give them wide berth and they will leave without a bold attack.

Deer and ‘possums and red foxes waiting to eat our ware,
Give them a snack and they return for the evening's fare.

Stings or scratches, beauty or song, part of Nature’s lessons.
One must learn to live with all and how to make concessions.

The Devil Having His Favorites

Including their own righteousness,
politicians can convince us and
themselves of almost anything –

that the world is truly flat –

they walk us to the edge…

demand that 
we stare down into the abyss…

full of asps, coiled to strike –

incurable viruses and lethal 
colors of racial division, these
are the bread-and-butter of 
evil – insatiable individuals
with lust for power and control 
over the destinies of subordinate 
others, 

the lemonade and 
ice tea of fiery journeys driven 
by ruthless ambition – 

and the Devil,
having his favorites will reward
them well, their name-plates
over gold plated furnaces
in hell….

The Big Table

This table is for eagles only
where the tough- dirty-necessary decisions are made.
Every now and again an asp raises its rage
it has to be engaged with one way or another.
You haven't the stomach for it,
that's what the small table is for
for little owls to perch.
Hooting excuses to explain the poison away
wide-eyed petrified of facts.
ideologues-all
not understanding that you can't reason with stupid
it is unwise to stroke a fang.

I'M where I belong, at the big table
an invader writhing in my talons.
It didn't listen to logic it had to go-
You're where you belong
at the small table
sniffing rainbows 
dreaming in unicorn
Little poison asps going unchecked.
Swirling around your heads.
You've grown fat and soft
without any answers
apologist supreme
only wishful thinking
dead end dreaming-

Dismantling the asp happens at the big table
chanting time is over-talons must come out.
The tough-dirty-necessary work
happens here at the big table.
If you can't stomach it, get the F out of the way
-stay in your safe lane
just be the little toot owl
that you were born to be.

Blow

Hunker down people-nothing lasts forever.
stay at home until this Wuhan devil blows over.
it's not so bad... being home
You know the place you dreamed about
finally purchased with blood and calluses.

So man up-hunker down
there are airborne asps flitting about
man up-hunker down.
until this Wuhan devil blows over.

A Light-Bearer

I am a light-bearer;
opening doors
so that together
we may seek--

Of course, there 
are no answers,

just questions...
leading to questions;
for we are a species
of seekers, divinely 
clothed in the solver's
garments...

solutions not found
on the path, but in
the maker of paths;
not found in the
mind, but in a 
maze of minds, 
in the tender
of walls, the
pruner of our foot-
steps, keeping asps
from our heals
and scorpions from
our toes. The only
real, is the sense
of being, but in 
the spirit-illusion:
the wise knowing
there is no life,
no consciousness
that excludes the
intangible of faith;
looking from the
outside in, I can 
be certain only
that I think 
I think—no more.

Shall the Ghost of Shakepheare We Fear

WHERE IS ROMEO, WHERE IS JULIET 

WAS THEIR LOVE, THEIR DEATH;  A FORSHADOWING OF ARTS END

THE POSIONOUS ASPS WE NOW FLAUNT, IN LOVES DISSEMINATION

AN ARTISTIC CREATION?
 
IT'S SONNET TITLE{:}

THE ROAD PAVED, OUR CHILDREN'S HEART'S; PIERCED IN THE OBJECTIFICATION OF SORROW{S}. THEIR EYES, THEIR EARS, THEIR BODIES, THEIR HEART'S.  DEVOID OF THE FRALITY; OF LOVE IN LIFE OR ART .............x


baby blue bk

aka: the gentleman pirate

Draft Horse In the Furnace

Most pain comes from something we've lost
like a life or a love- or a favorite dog
how to deal with the harshness of ghosts, 
we plow on
we must plow on.

Will you crawl to a cave and wither away
or sit in the sun - repair wings of your faith
do you search for things to fill in the space
but you can't bring what's dead back into life
death by far owns the deepest of pits
so we tap salt and asphalt into the abyss
and plow on
we must plow on.

Each loss forms a wall of asps in the mind
snapping wildly at sanity and hobbling stride-
Will you proudly wear pain like a soldier of medal and scar,
or cover it up in bottle capped alleys  
but we plow on 
we must plow on.

We're just draft horses working the rocky fields of life,
the whips forever cracking in the foyer of the mind
steel backs bowing to the fierce furnace of time
but we must plow on
we must forever plow on.

Rats and Snakes Hiding In Here

There could be rats and snakes hiding in here.
Yes, I am talking about asps and cobras, big ones.
Hiding under the bed, no, not in my head, under my bed.

Okay, what about way back there, in the darkest corner?
Did you check out THAT corner? My voice is rising. I hear it crack.
Better take my flashlight and look hard this time. No, not in my head.
Under my bed.

Well, no the rat would not be. He is hiding in the closet.
A big gray monster with that hideously ugly pink rat tail.
He is probably under that pile of clothes.  Not that pile, the other pile.
It might take you awhile to find him. He’s really sneaky. 
Probably eating my new jacket.

Can you read me another story while you are here and can I have
two more cookies? What about a drink of water?  I am thirsty.
And I have to go to the bathroom again.  No, don’t leave, yet.
If you do, I am a goner. Please leave the flashlight, PLEASE!

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