Best Boarder Poems
how are you going to enjoy christmas in texas
is it gonna snow? no
what's Santa gonna look like tracking
accross that hot sand in his furry red suit.
i doubt if he can even get his reigndeer
to even go in that direction
i don't know what kind of Sants Claus
they got down there,
or what his current mode of transportation is,
or how they say Ho Ho Ho in spanish
does Santa have a deal with the boarder patrol
and what's he bringing back from over there?
maids for rich people
sorry, i just cant texas Santa in the mood
MUSTANGS
The ground shudders, and shakes,
Under pounding hooves.
Echoing against canyon walls.
Fast and furious wild hearts beat,
Keeping equal pace, with the prairies,
Wide divide.
From within hell's fiery furnace,
Tempered muscle drives motions sinew.
Behold evolution's die hard breed,
Built for no other purpose except,
Excessive Speed.
Racing along at razors edge,
Accelerating testing endurance's,
Brute strength.
Mustangs roam god's vast expanse,
Deserts devils burning blazing trails.
Encounters ghostly figures, dwelling amongst,
Forbidden territories reservations.
Dust clouds shadow creatures alluding,
Humanities intensive detection.
Harnessing destiny's forgotten beasts,
Freedom's native horses challenging,
Limitless domain.
Blackened pitch melting seamlessly,
Mixing with hewed grays.
Heaven's canvas erupts.
Storms rage splits lightening’s,
Aftershock,
Herding horse flesh towards,
Maximum Resolution.
Divine specters haunting thunders,
boarder lands, slick footed range warriors.
Traveling hidden roads ancient paths.
Natures raw power hardens brutalities
Magnificence.
Rival Arabians fight to prove dominates.
One lone stallion stands, dark bristling mane,
Brushed by evenings cooling breeze.
The leader takes cliffs highest plateau.
As silences experienced guardian,
He watches cautiously.
Resting at sunsets twilight hour,
Quenching thirsts, unyielding desires.
Next to waters crystal streams they ease.
Gently relieving tension's strains
Beside one another.
Comforts unity beneath reflective,
Moonlight's softness.
Mares and colts whinny in graduates,
Thanks.
Soon it shall come upon them,
Once more.
Dawn's rays cross horizons palette,
Under universal skies.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
True love - In him was the breath of life given, now the Creator Greatest creation (man)
asorb's the life of a human being. Being, from the image of an Omnipotent (GOD) from above.
Real passion - Let there be light, now the Creator begin's an unfallable phase of power
and passion. He-he spoke into existence the foundation of his world, he take's dark-
ness and maketh day and then he say's the firmament that shall be the water of the earth
he loved it so, that he place fish and whale's and all the creature's for the ocean, and it
gave him "Satisfaction".
Unity - In him (Adam) was there True Love bestowe unto him (Eve) and God (The Creator)
test their commitment to him by the will of obesience. They fail, mankind is seperated
from the Unity of the Creator (GOD) plan's and Sin that even challenge's the explorata-
tion of an Omnipotent Order as it enter the temptation of man. Adam as intelligent as
he is. The creator who hates sin so much. Has to come full force (In his own order) with the
"lust of the flesh", of his creation. But he who is the All-Mighty his thoughts is above
mankind best thought's. He employ's Noah for a mission of Unity. And if you never
have experience true love in your life. "Read About It", (Bible) I quarantee you'll find
answer's to question's that has put a bitter taste of confusion in your Boarder. (limitation)
(E)verlasting love - Many of us think love is found lying on our back's. Many think that
little piece of meat hanging between our leg's (Men's) is the source of true love.
But by the time one figure's out the "True Meaning of Love". Year's come and go, and
the sun will have shine upon your morning's over a thousand times. Everlasting Love -
that Adam & Eve overlooked because of unbridle feeling's, that told them differently and
this manifested love, when it is found will smile upon you knowingly and with possitive
meaning. Ressurrected love onto Heaven(and from the grave) can be seen in the beauty
of a Dove. "Finding True Love".
"I'm hearing images, I'm seeing songs no poet has ever painted
Voices call out to me, straight to my heart"
Cold, emotionless, and her nature, defiant
Hard to connect with as well as unreliant
A boarding school for outcasts such as Wednesday
Revenge for brother, brings on her sinister way
Dysfunctional families—ivory towers make wagers
Enrolled are lost souls and morbid teenagers
Like Arkham Asylum, a long and brutal history
Medieval mayhem come to life again in her story
Nevermore Island, Romania’s Nevermore Academy
Unconventional practices become their enemy
Designed for students with extreme personalities
Who don’t think their practices convey abnormalities
Is an all American coming-of-age supernatural
Tangled in spider silk or it’s web, which is factual?
And there it is the unscrupulous psycho-therapist
A principal’s shapeshifter and her sorceress rapist
Forcing thoughts back into some semblance of order
Werewolves, vampires, gorgons, and sirens who boarder
Are the architectural texts with applications ubiquitous
And the requisite archaic desperate mass exodus
Dark long tresses, paints it black in gothic dresses
Many who are romantic interests she addresses
Rises to an ovation with a most clever shadow dance
Sanity, reason, balance, rationality, and much arrogance
Behind the smiling facade of normality where lie derelicts
There lurks a psychopathic serial killer, and other convicts
Beyond their control, declined their world of decadence
Insanity, lunacy, madness, the outcasts show no evidence
Highly severe psychological and physical illnesses?
Or real paranormal abominations and alien devises
Guiding her are messages from the beyond with passion
Her lecture combined intellectual lucidity and compassion
Me and a old friend crossed the boarder
to spend some hard earned dinro.
I caught the clap.
And he got that nifty sombrero.
Two barflys talkin trash bout seniorities
and a joke about a donkey show.
Im reflecting over times spent.
With my favorite Amigo.
Got ripped on some tequila the very
first day.
Drank some water and at the hospital we
had to stay.
Got into a fight with some guy waving a knife.
I sat and drank my cervassa.
While my buddy ran for his life.
We met a fella called jose.
Said for tweenty pesos in his
crambed cassa.
We could stay
Was a great trip till Gary slipped me some
acid at the bullfight.
Decided to charge the bull and got knocked
clean outtha sight.
Woke up in a cell seems like trouble follows us
everywhere we go.
Im stuck here in the clink.
With my old amigo.
Still a little high I thought i saw Buhda wearing
Elvis glasses.
End's up I was talkin to some he she
making passes.
In only a few months time we were free.
I said well whats next?
And Gary replied dam dont you have some place to be.
With no passports along with some other
new friends across that boader so silently
we did go.
Add another chapter for next time it's vegas
for me and my amigo.
Is your house in order, or do you keep running for the boarder, maybe you're a life hoarder?
Like so many others do you feel your world is shrinking, with a feeling inside like you're sinking so you pick up a bottle and start drinking, which only brings about stinking, thinking.
And you know things have gone awry when people's conversations are all about me, my and I. While injustice is being swept under the rug and we look for happiness in drugs. If that's what you prefer then your house is completely out of order.
Whatever your situation you need to seek immediate salvation cause if you take a look at the world and look at the times, you can't help but see the unmistakable warning signs in a world that prefer to remain blind.
Just look at how the world is now setting the stage, no longer turning the page, unexplained rage, is The Bible right have we come to the end of an age?
And you won't escape by plane nor by cars. Check out N.A.S.A. and the rich they're in a race for Mars but they too are behind bars.
For time grows short and we are about to be judged by the Highest Court. So if you feel somethings amiss and you want to stay out of the Abyss then it comes down to this.
If your house is straight, see you at The Pearly Gates.
If your house is fair it could use a little repair but you're pretty much square.
But if your house is a mess then it really needs to be addressed because you are in danger of being hurled into The Netherworld.
So it's to stop being a hoarder, tucking tail and running for the boarder, take a stand and get your house in order.
Drum beats inside black bare hairy chests
Tradition hidden in treasure chests
Chess played on mother earth , sounds like home
Home grown sounds ringing throughout the neighborhood
Stomachs kneeling and praying for food
Fathers crossing boarder lines and going for good
Living life behind the calabash
Brothers behind bars
Mother's beauty behind scars
The sacred statue of mother Theresa caresses those in prisons
Prisons of the mind can never be unlocked
Smoke in the nearby village , culture is burning
Village heads lay their heads on village grief
The village thief steals at noon
And then the slave hunters
Lurking in expensive
Futures perishing like sinners in hell
Let me not breath the air that sinners inhale
I come from light
I am pain
I come from life
*STREETPO3TRY*
I saw a dazzling rose,
Whose red petals cast blinding hues upon me.
She shot her cupid arrows from the Kabaka’s backyard,
And punctured the cocoon of my innocence.
My heart burnt for a feel of her spangled petals,
My ferocious passions lost their sturdy grip on restraint as
I, like a pollen-famished bee, sniffed her whiff;
I gorged on her rosy scent, like a Don Quixote.
Then, I plucked her off the tribal bough;
And navigated the Nile River with her,
Tacked in the valves of my heart,
For a cross boarder allogamy.
What a welcome from my kinsfolk!
Furrows ridging the faces of my kinsmen,
Spittle of disgust masticating the hungry soils,
Grey beards wagging and waging a silent war;
Alien!
Since remarks from the T.V, and a stocking of my soul to breathe...
I relax eagerly when I await the heat and see that nothing come's out of me unless I can be free-
now they said in many many books that this is how we plead,
the defiance of a boarder stronger and foreigner as the hoarder from outer space descends,
but like my mentor contends with me as I ease into the heavenly shrine above mine,
I allow for only a sanctimony of time,
like I would wonder if my gun no longer shined-
and my face only ate pine,
and my body enveloped love of binds rather than the free floating chime...
I was a walker and yet no more than the other stalker a boat bought in a saunter.
I look outside and see the snow
running from the clouds
and even though it’s hitting the
pavement at top speed, it lands ever
so gently and silently.
This phenomenon amazes me
every time it snows, which by the way
may or may not be very often where I live
but it does happen every year.
It really is quite beautiful to look at
when it covers everything like a beautiful
white fluffy blanket. My eyes wrinkle
at their sides as I smile at the beauty
of earths white crown. Children’s voices
ring with laughter playing in the soft
newly created playground and snow blowers
start their engines with a loud roar.
Also this happens every year.
I sit here in my warm cosy living room
with my fireplace burning, enjoying the
warmth inside and the beauty outside,
until nature calls my dog to come check her out.
I open the door and the cold air slaps me to reality,
and those green eyes of mine turn greener as
I think of my neighbors south of the boarder
who are still walking around with shorts on,
and despite the cold my envy burns every year.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
12.17.2014
Contest: The Green Eyed Monster
Here lies my notepad, covered in scrawl, my pencil rolls on to the table
I watch as it rolls and suspect it may fall, but it stops at the edge, balanced and stable
The cloth it is on is yellow and blue, sliced into squares of three inches or so
Not every one has the same hue, but it's waterproof cloth and useful for dough
There are mats on the table roughly stacked, big ones and small ones, kind of cyan
and marbled indigo patterns are tracked, round the neatly drawn boarder of coppery tan
A stainless steel trivet spirals beside, bright in the sunshine, it's hurting my eyes
The daffodils in their blue vase abide, the sweetest aroma doth rise to the skies
I sit here on one of five chairs, all wooden and carved, and matching the table
And because my wife cares, each one has a cushion, but you'll not find a label
She made them by hand, and each one is tied, with bows in the corners to stop it from falling
To the carpet that's blue upon which they stand, with delicate swirls and flowers it's crawling
A cuckoo clock hangs on the wall by the window, it's occupant hidden and quiet for now
But when he pops out and looks just below, to one side is a painting we love and how
It shows some puppies who run round a bend, one of them trips and slides onto the frame
Beneath the picture a pipe doth wend, to a radiator that's white, they all look the same
Behind me stands our pride and joy, a dresser of magnificent proportions
top shelf holds a wind up toy, and in the back a silver platter, reflects the room with weird distortions
Here we keep our trinkets and glasses, safe from the danger of falling or dust
And as I write the morning passes, my coffee mug's empty, there are chores to do and I fear I must
PD's dare was "Can you really poet and rhyme everything around you"
< once popped cork on bottle of red wine
hit brother in eye oh how it did shine
seen him go pick up bat
boy did I ever scat
right to canadian's boarder line
feeling like her dansel in-distress
along came three county mounties best
asked if nipping bottle
at fast paces throttle
answered yes now did I pass your test
tossed in pokie for now twenty days
poor ole missy now won't and get laid
darn brother wins again
wearing smitten hugh grin
wait until that welt begins to fade
Written 6/20/11
Entry For Francine Robert's
Bottle Of Wine
Limericks Only Contest
G.L. All
There once was a young booger called Bet,
Who was learning ‘bout surfing the ‘net.
As her tutor called Dougal
Introduced her to Google,
She said, ‘Surfing? I’m not even wet.’
*Booger – surfing term for body boarder
A woman is following me.
I am guessing she is lonely.
Having a stalker gives me glee.
It makes me feel quite naughty.
This is becoming bothersome.
She phoned up and called me a scum.
She disguised her voice with a hum.
But I know where the call came from.
Next door she is now a boarder.
She has a mental disorder.
She is ignoring the order.
I got it to try to ward her.
I wake up to find my hands tied.
She is standing by my bedside.
Telling me she is now my bride,
and we must toast with cyanide.
In the kingdom of the Waters
She sits enthroned on its womb
Flanked by the silver facet Atlantic-Indiana
As the barking tides wrestle her marble feet
In the court of the Tropics
She is robed in green foliage of ancient savannah
Adorned with pearls of arid sands,
With ivory mountain and cincture of rift
In the mythic boarder of the Equator
She rests at the footstool of the fierce sun
Comforted by cloud’s tears
And caressed by solemn winds
In the royal neighborhood of Continents
She locks horn with Europe
In the witness of Asia
And her offspring Madagascar