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Best Basilisk Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Basilisk poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of basilisk poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Last Gasp of a Basilisk Witnessed by Five Italians by Hamner, Trey
The Glass Basilisk by Zavaletta, Michael

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The Best Basilisk Poems

Details | Basilisk Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Childish Heart

1. To the clear bidding for one, a mug wump it stands
showcasing mouthwatering care but with dirty hands
for trophy, for lust, all in a virulent game
changing faces and smiles and treating them the same
so surrounded by females, happy but flurried
after each kiss is a mark to keep her worried
their bank of love suffering the imminent theft
loving with right, searching for the next with left
switching loyalty to skirts is automatic
a crime against womanhood and numismatics.

Chorus
An attractive man, a different boy
a lad growing on the tears of women
so fearless and brave but cunny and cheap
when his arrogance chase the butterflies
he’s still blessed with the wasps who come around.

2. Attraction on the snow which later becomes slush
same tactics and same theatrics crush after crush
forces out a labour of love to keep it pure
he isn’t ready to change, that’s one thing for sure
every girl is a man changer but he’s a wimp
from afar he’s a big guy from close range an imp
hope, standing on deputation to many hearts
gathering the many dumps and rolling the carts
hence he’s not a part of their panegyric
and their slow songs of him full of painful lyrics.

Chorus
An attractive man, a different boy
a lad growing on the tears of women
so fearless and brave but cunny and cheap
when his arrogance chase the butterflies
he’s still blessed with the wasps who come around.

3. More victims still counting, his mind is a vagrant
fuels emotional injustice to stay vibrant
thirsty tenders, he has turned to tempestuous beasts
his prey may seem so low but he remains the least
tearing the feather boa to expose some shoulders
the old not in exception, his ego builders
broken taste of modern pride becomes effectual
such unpleasant immigration is perpetual
just to love for once becomes labour intensive
honesty from his mall, stays very expensive.

Chorus
An attractive man, a different boy
a lad growing on the tears of women
so fearless and brave but cunny and cheap
when his arrogance chase the butterflies
he’s still blessed with the wasps who come around.

4. To helpless emotions, he is a basilisk
any mast turned towards him is taking a risk
the big body aura, hides the scalawag heart
on the feminine innocents, he plays the dart
when his shadow passes on the streets, sores are seen
leaving them dry and brown after meeting them green
its same accusation in a hundred lawsuits
runs around with targets but nothing in pursuit
to be a man is the only recognizance
building a resume on ladies’ repugnance.

Chorus x 2
An attractive man, a different boy
a lad growing on the tears of women
so fearless and brave but cunny and cheap
when his arrogance chase the butterflies
he’s still blessed with the wasps who come around.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2017


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Hybrid Eyes

unknown five fingers flipping lives
power based dynamic undermines the dramatic
twist the totalitarian love like lashed fragments
bastard basilisk coiled coolly over calming masks

The hybrid eyes close on hatred
Unveil the universal welcoming smile
Happy's perfect when expecting a party
Happy's perfect when expecting a life

Hate the child
Hate the child
Hate the child
Show it love

ensure enraptured trust and warming embrace
unannounced resurgence of relief and trust
tame the tether and tighten the ropes
warning clouds wane and the day shines

The hybrid eyes close on lust
Unveil the welcoming smile
Happy's perfect when expecting norms
Happy's perfect when expecting trust

Show it love
Hate the child
Hate the child
Show it child
Hate the love
Hate the show
Love the show
Show the child
Hate it
Love it
Show it
Child


Copyright © Natalie Barber | Year Posted 2014


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The Wild Kratts Kids

Turning on the TV
Wonders how they do it
Why they need to flee
Is a matter you know your mother wit

When the world is calm
Somewhere out there needs your help
Who could hear them, and make becalm
Someone watched them like a wolf’s whelp

They are brothers to save wild fauna
With their special creature power suits
Gaining animal powers, saving them from trauma
Transport them in a specific route

Helping rebuild habitat’s life chain
Pio as Chris, Malka as Aviva
JD as Martin, Joakim as Gavin
Teamwork with a brilliant idea

Dolphin’s dive, frogfish’s camouflage
It feels great with these powers
With the strength of rhino charge
Basilisk lizard walking on water


19 November 2014
Written for my son, nephews, and niece who have fun watching The Wild Kratts on TV
With my own song version on http://pinoylifefacts.blogspot.com/


Copyright © Noel Villarosa | Year Posted 2014


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Wormhole

The basilisk is looking my way
Time fragmented into memorial shards
Explosive regeneration hides pain
These flames won't cleanse my wounds

Dark strands of your hair cover me like a cat of nine tails
Each strike harder than the last but I can't look away
This wormhole gateway into your soul fails
But I cannot feel you any other way

Ubiquity of your eyes creates a prison of denial
The pretenders would believe this can be beaten
Hangman is cut loose by a cellar door
Every day I want you more and more
Spare the incidentals and grant me once more

How do I get back there?
How do I get back to that place where I held you?
How do I get back into your beautiful heart?

This wormhole gateway into your soul fails
But I feel you. Every day. 

J.Hart 01/30/10


Copyright © Joshua Hart | Year Posted 2010


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Last Gasp of a Basilisk Witnessed by Five Italians

As Michael slay the dragon under God's command
Reni and Palumbo outstretched their hands
As that ancient serpent was finally cast away
Young Jacopo the dyer painted all the day
As the seraph vanquished the devil forever
Raphael began his draught board endeavor 
Finally the mighty spear had met its principal foe
And the brush met the canvas for Giordano


Copyright © Trey Hamner | Year Posted 2016


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The Glass Basilisk

Denying the change,
Your lipstick clutched tightly,
But beware my dear those empty promises may leave you broken and deranged,
An erratic arousal from images of the high and mighty,
Worshiping an ivory tower existence complete with hollow halls and launch pad balconies,
Remain wary of your left hand's desperate grasps to hold dear,
The haunting spectrum of a phantasmal queen demanding to be revered, 
Her basilisk gaze locks you in place,
Hold your breath and keep your composer when she approaches,
Crawl under your bead utter every prayer flat on your face,
Do you feel her burning gaze,
Frenzied appendages grasp desperately at your heart,
Your eyes brimming with tears depicting a world through a satin haze,
I urge you to escape your prison,
Let your instinctive fear overcome rational convictions,
Gouge out your eyes sever your limbs,
Best to forget how to walk than serve as a slave to your body's whim,
Anything but appeasement death before betrayal,
Fight tooth and nail for every inch regained from your forced betrothal,
Never forget that the fabrics of your existence were wrought with flesh not reflective glass.


Copyright © Michael Zavaletta | Year Posted 2015


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A Mandrake's Gesture: vol II.

The maiden's nipples 
swollen, her bosom
flush with excitement,
hailing her goddess as 
she slighted very 
eloquently, puissant.
The goodness they
shared was of sinful
reproach, a somber
obedience of lovers'
admiration.  
The dusk laden sky 
flickered with prose, 
the sorrows of
Belial's romance of lost
mysteries and his 
vengeant domineer,
his bravado, his 
masculinity, cascading
like spirals  of chaos
and the chimes of 
instilled darkness
climaxing to the 
sojourn of forbidden 
pleasures.  
Gently now, 
Belial eased this 
fair lady to her lover's
demand, her patience
swelling between her
thighs, burning. . . 
eternally.
- - - - 
I.
Awoken from a dream,
a fair common was she,
her beauty unsurpassed
only by her soulful 
demeanor and natural
prelude.  Her femininity
and subtle prowess
always the victor,
her passion a hearkening
rose upon a lonely
desolate scorn.  Her 
feelings a bit feverish,
there now, nothingness
and the harlots of 
misery and the massacre
of saintliness.   The venom
there pulsing now,
was evermore raspy,
and only to the 
delight of our royal
antiquities, vespers 
of envy, of anger's delight,
of beckoning glee, a 
madman's exuberation to
the deafening hysterias
of mischief's vertigo.  

A marriage. . .
arranged, a stiffening
King to his Prince's 
triumph over darkness.
Yes, this common peasant
and her divine bounty
was as a peril of Eve 
searching for her lost 
Eden.
There being no more 
reprise, bitter, for her
burden, she was to share.
Somber eyes and 
a broom for everyone
to take hold.  Yes, the 
beauty of a fair maiden
this, so vast and of
such masterful drab, 
splendor to all of 
the shared treasures
in spirits.  

Rage!
A taunting basilisk,
enslaying our vat of 
christendom and devotion.
To this day, of prayerful
morn, maiden Geinere, 
awoke, scarlet fever.


Copyright © Trevor Morse | Year Posted 2006


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We are fading

For the lies that wait to catch up with our sins
Days past will no longer let us relive
Heartaches, sorrow, fear within.

For graves have become our homes
Banished have we come to know!
Death, misery, hiding have we

For we know not the turns ahead
Tears no longer turn to pearls
Wonder, mystery, tombs await

See what we cannot see
Blood tears on our cheeks
They are here
We can longer hide
Run to the hills
We can longer survive

Curses
Demons
Basilisk
Sirens
Do not behold Medusa
Our time is up
No one told us beautiful people are dangerous!


Copyright © Natsai Mutandaguta | Year Posted 2016


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Forge of Fear

Why for oft' aflutter in fear, oh oftener of the fiery forge forelorn,
By which binds in bronze of a metallurge, wears the neck around ye sworn.

The anvil awaits the hammer whose smith has struck with arms embraced,
Round lo flames and fumes of fuels and stones 'ave been together laced.

Dragon's breath and salamander's sighs have cloaked the masked basilisk,
And stirred within each waft o' swirling smogs a smock with a wooden whisk.

Heed my warning, oh oftener of the fiery forge forelorn,
For around ye neck-laced choken neck wears what I do warn.


Copyright © Brendan J. Simons | Year Posted 2017


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Abundance

An abundance of passionate thoughts cloud my mind
Visioning my hands all over you, tonguing every crevice
Casting spells of love potion number nine

Your face is my poster board for perfection
So creative and refined
Am I high?
Falling over drunk, or plain stupefied

Administer a dose of Absinthe
Through your eyes I can see you want more
Accelerating with the power of a Basilisk
Filling your dreams on a realistic level.. 
No dreams
Pushing you to your core

I'll give you what you want
Opportunities galore
Wiggling uncontrollably
Your beautiful body sprawled 
On my living room floor

This uncontrollable feeling I have is that of fate
If you're not the one, then you must be a prototype
It's hard to keep up with all your hype
Come with me darling
Of my passion you shall partake

Your love is never enough
Pour it over me like a faucet on on high
With our love so abundantly clear
Both you and I know there is nothing to fear..


Jared Pickett.....:JP]



Copyright © Jared Pickett | Year Posted 2009


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A Rattling Rhyme

O, Basilisk keeping across the unsinkable surface of water,
desperately fleeing the terrible hunger of monstrously ravenous mouths,
supported by ripples of light,
as adrenaline, faith and delight appear to allow the impossible task of traversing the river of night, as the bluegills below the remarkable sight of a lizard escaping a death of forsaken repose effervesce with a watery awe,

is an ingenuous talent as yours unremittingly earned?

Aug 28, '18


Copyright © Jack Webster | Year Posted 2018