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Best Cobra Poems | Poetry

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

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New Cobra Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Cobra poems are below this new poems list.

A Cobra And A Virgin by M V, FABIYAS
COBRA by Nugent, JW
The Cobra- by Desikachari, Vasudevan
Cobra by Tsitsikroni, Klio
Cobra Kisses by Fisher, Jessica
Cobra King by Davies, Ivor
Dance of the Cobra by Lanier, Bo
King Cobra by Spector, Erik
Haiku on Cobra by Musaddeq, Ashraful
Cobra by Kopec, Patrycjusz

View all new Cobra Poems

The Best Cobra Poems

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Dance of the Firebird

Dance of the Firebird

Rosita, sultry enchantress,
dazzling Andalusian firebird,
erotically she twirls, proud
like a phoenix flashing across the sky.

Flared ruffled skirt swirls,
in hues of red, orange, and gold,
like a sunset in the throes of Autumn.
Her olive skin glistens with sweat,
as she chases away her demons with 
handclapping and a pair of castanets.
 
Beautiful dancer lost in her dreams,
she’s an exotic flamenco queen.
With campfires reflected on her face,
finger snapping, her tempo heats up, 
and she’s afire with passion and grace.

In an essence of exuberance,
she’s possessed in a trance, 
swaying like a summer breeze.
She undulates hypnotically like a cobra
seducing its unsuspecting prey.
In a stream of her own thoughts,
a gypsy in love with the dance.
 
Crushing red rose petals she stamps her feet,
to the guitars’ entrancing beat.
Her sinuous body pulsates sensuously 
to the music as she dances unabashedly.
But she’s untouchable as the fire god she serves,
baring her soul to none, 
for her heart belongs to the dance.


09-23-2017

Contest:     Poems that Paint a Picture - 3
Sponsor:     Silent One
Placement:  1st


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2017


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Love Strike

Upon shy reach,
His fingers touch mine—
Quickly though, they move away from me… 

I bite his lips,
Crushing his coiling coy
And snatch his hands back onto me

I am a cobra…
I dance to the beat of his anxious worship


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015


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Dear King-

# oi KING Mandalay

Influence by the element of air,
You had me at love’s first stare.

Ruled by the element of your water,
Emotions no one can slaughter.

You call upon me like a charmer,
Awaken me out of my outer body armor.

A cobra memorized by your romance,
With a trance of my belly snake dance,

I love your built confidence,
Flirtatiously lost in a hypnotic trance.

Sending a kiss to your sensitive toy,
One day you will be my silly boy.

Your dots fill up my sensual desire,
My passion adds burn to your fire.

I will add water to your thirst.
Motivate me; energize me, until I burst.

While the moon changes your mood,
Your key turns on my womanly jewels of nude.

All my emotions are out of control,
You roll me with the sweet dice of your soul.

A deep erotic ritual to feed the need.
Wanting more arousing the power of my greed.

I will aimlessly satisfy your pleasure of lust,
A loving environment absorbing the devils exotic dust.

Symbolizing our emotions and likes on the same level,
Your Cancer sign comes all twisted like a Tasmania devil.

Influencing the justice with my right hand muffet,
My Libra sign set on two strings like a puppet.

I will shove the love in to everything we speak of,
Secure my bloom with the wings of a dove.

Spoil me with your pride, and charisma of your heart,
Fantasize the beauty of the nature of our art.

Longing your slight touch with a hint of aggressive,
Around you I bury myself in the world of imaginative.

Your sign and element your gift thrives on me.
I exchange the feelings only you see.

Observe me; connect me, until you got my balance,
Have me, love me, and give me all your romance.

All though your ego gets in the way of truth.
My sweet love;-)  you are still the one I choose.


By: P.D.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


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SHALL WE DANCE

SHALL WE DANCE

Shall we dance, as two snakes encircling one another,
A bite to the strike, whom draws the first blood of 
Passions bitter poison.
Venomous vipers, engaged in a twisted game of hidden desires,
Shielded by golden bands of confinements vows of promise, 
Yet yielding under the guise of the serpent’s folk tongue.
Reptilian lovers Intertwining, beneath the light rays of the 
Elliptical moons illumination, deceiver’s side slithering,
The truth of reality’s harsh dawning to come.
Desert tempest creatures, crushed under the swelling
Sand storms of destiny, rising in the winds rip tidal shift
Of exotic’s throngs of passion, then dashed upon the
Rocks of calamity’s destructive force.
Behold the skins of shame, we’ve shed in this our lost
Garden of paradise called Eden, as we descend limb
By limb, unraveling, retanggling, in a mutual enticement’s
Partaking of the unripen fruit, in this the harvested
Orchard of deceit, and lies of pleasure spoils.
Rattling’s bad to the bone species, are these
Deceiver’s dwelling under the moonlight, 
Loves vanquished, by passions burnt embers
Of lusts cold blooded flame.
Veracity’s fiercest retile's in mortal combat
With their human hearts, or their raw physical
Basic instincts, the animal within themselves,
The beast of desire, exposing the coiling in raptures
After glow of the exotic.
In the emerald eyes of the snakes flashing, these
Are the transfixed, paralyzed prisoners of loves
Passionate vipers, the cursed of the forbidden.
Poisons intoxicated figures, silhouetted in the red
Moons seduction zone, he the hooded king cobra,
And I his empress taipan of the orient.
Glittering do our scales of temptation, damnation,
Oh but to die in this incoilment’s display of eternal
Abandonment, a climatic apex of poisonous predators,
Ripping, tarring at their bare exposed fleshes
Atonement, unsheived are these carnivores
Of passion.
Shall we dance, as two snakes encircling one another,
A bite to the strike, whom draws the first blood
Of passions bitter poison.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN







Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015


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The Last Son

In my ear something whispers, tells of tales of burning blisters,
forbids the haunting of my sisters, last of sons to bear our name.
Like fleas in whiskers- embedded splinters,
a Soul that's known too many Winters,
felt just one too many shivers-
puts my family crest to shame!

Sin of Sins is potential wasted, failure tasted on a daily basis.
Jaded thoughts in anger basted, long awaited signs of Truth.
My secrets naked, cut and pasted, Time to Space in cryo-stasis;
bring masks of faces, changing places, all I need to seize the proof!

In our nest found Viper eggs, Black Mamba mouth and Widow webs;
cobra fangs, Komodo legs, the sting of buried Scorpion.
Killer bees on murder sprees, venom- how it quickly spreads!
Such toxic bites, to my delight, end my role to be "the son".

My duty relieved, can freely breathe, no longer bound by obligation.
I now have need to craft and weave the lordly exit of earthly King.
So I take my leave, my goal achieved, looking for a grand reception-
I do believe my aching Heart, the Soul of Art- is my only precious thing!


Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2014


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lost wings

A heavy weight 
Black shadows 
Upon the shoulders 
Lead heavy 
As wings fall 
Expelled from 
The garden 
That of Eden 
Bent down 
In grief 
I cried 
love lived 

My burning passion 
Shattered to 
be saved 
Broken grows stronger 
Like a fireworks 
Lighting up 
The sky 

On my knees 
I fell 
without mercy 
As the cobra 
Danced around truth 
Biting emotions 
To the ground 
Drove straight 
Into the dark side 
Of a dream 
Boiling nightmares 
Sewing hell 
Into the deep 

A distorted face 
Clouds vision 
No longer 
Do I see 
Beautiful colours 
Instead of petals 
Your thorns 
Rip the heart 
Black turns 
The rose and dies 

Growing two horns 
Boiling stew 
Seething hot pain 
To begin roasting 
Pushing to 
the deepest 
Tormenting in hell 
Hissing spitting out 
A poisonous 
stew of words 

A forked tongue 
The deceiver 
Crawling under 
The skin 
Coiling serpent 
Without truth 
Burning lies 
Twists then turns 

Destroyer of dreams 
Nightmares burns 
A circle 
Drawn with 
a poisonous tongue 
Within hell 
Dancing moths 
In silver shadows 
Reality one 
see's light 


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2013


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Picnic time Aussie style

Picnic time Aussie style

Picnic time 12 noon, is dinner time
Was had beside the river
We would grill our lamb chops 
On pieces of fencing wire
Quartpot was all a quiver
 
Tea was cast into the old Quartpot
When the water almost boiled
And boiling tea still I can see
Tastes different I recall

Building the fire 
watch the death adders ire
if you pick him up with the wood
foot long death, invisible yes
city dwellers often caught, it’s not good

If the Geegar ant gets in your pants (tiny black ant)
You will know he is there in a bit
And the Bullant one inch 
Will bite like a pinch     (pain)
His mates will attack, 
you are it     Don Johnson

Ah yes them little geegars 
will bite n smite you well
and bullants come like an army 
advancing into hell

If you get ants in your pants 
it is no fun, the geegars are biting now
you are grabbing gripping awful ants
until you get the cow


Yes little death adder you don't see till you step on him, then both ends
head and tail strike at your foot. If you saw em first you stomped on the head.
The Brown snake the most common you will see, his head neck can flare
a bit like old Cobra, and he will  kill you quicker......cheers mate.....Don


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011


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Boots on The Ground

Saddle up! Saddle up! It time to go.
     I heard the Sergeant’s call
I held by rifle against my chest,
      And vowed to give my all
It’s time the Sergeant said, move out 
     Let put your boots on the ground
For God, Corps and Country, 
     I took a solemn oath,  I’m duty bound
To the landing zone I gladly went
    Then the day slowly began to wane
I picked up my ammo and weapon, 
    Not a word did I complain
Suddenly, I heard high in the sky
      The gunships thundering roar, 
I watched with great anticipation
     Then felt my pulse begin to soar 
Six Huey Cobra gunships suddenly
     Bursting forth from the sky
It was my ride to to camp Khe Sanh 
     Where many marines live and die 
Towards the besieged compound 
     Without a word we went
Their engine roaring louder, 
     The gunships pilots refusing to relent
When I arrived on the battlefield, 
   I stepped out and pensively planted my feet
I looked around at my surroundings
   The pestilence of war their I meet
From inward fears beyond passion’s pledge
     In their hands they held my fate
And of this mortal enemy
     Their rockets would not abate
Then I heard the sergeant shouting
       I wished the rocket had gone awry
While in this dreary existence
     I turned to God and sought a reason why
I dove into my sand bag bunker, I didn’t’ hesitate
     I felt my heart beat strong in a bunker in Khe Sanh
And when the sun rises heralding a new day 
     I’ll strain all my senses, look and ponder long
I never meant to linger, only thirteen months I’ll stay
     For strong is the life of which I intend to save
As the North Vietnamese Army surrounds us
     Their intent obvious, to put me in a grave


Copyright © Johnny Martinez | Year Posted 2017


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Thoughts At A Faculty Meeting

A Meeting after an eight hour day
Should include jubilant jiving,
Exciting conversation,
Lively chatter,
Not a speaker who drones on and on and on and on and on and on
In a disgustingly un-metered monotone voice
No lilt
No cadence
No melody
Just a methodical sameness
I am making a list of things that might get her excited-cobra biting her thigh,
School building burning to the ground, tiger tracks in the snow around her car...
Hooray! At last our unknown speaker has encouraged us, the audience, to talk.
We all lean in at our tables and talk toward each other
Loudly and rapidly
Words galloping out of our mouths as if a shot
Has been fired at the starting gate
Wrap it up! Wrap it up! Someone yells
I look up amazed. Her voice is excited.
We get a warning however we cannot shut up
So we keep talking
Wrap it up! Wrap it up! She yells.
A shriek type warning
Which we ignore
By the time this is over I decide
We did not need a cobra or a tiger.
All we had to do was be ourselves.
It is nigh onto impossible to control a roomful of teachers.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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MY LITTLE CREEPY DUDE

At the final stroking of saint Halloween eve, it seems not so long ago,
That my trusty SUV, transport vehicle unceremoniously broke down,
Right outside the local pet cemetery, what a marvelous place to
Spend the spookiest night of the year, changing a flat tire right next
Door to the graveyard of the barking dead!
 Ha, ha I thought to myself these children of the night better be at
Rest, I’m just not in the mood for playing fetch the bone, with
Any undead beasties tonight!
That’s when I heard a hellish sound, coming from this unconsecrated
Ground of Fido’s lost and found burial mounds, it started out low,
But grew with every shrill passing moment, I dropped the jack,
Picked up my throbbing heart, and became brave Balto of the
Polar North fame!
Inch by inch I approached, these iron bars gates that which were
Oddly left Unlocked, approaching the very center I stopped dead
Within my tracks, just as metal basketball rolled at my very feet,
Within two red glowing eyes meant mine, what the #### ####,
Is this thing, this it within a bob-wire metal shell?
It had very little hair, more like a grizzly patch here and there,
A ratty tail like a mouse, but what really caught my attention
The most was its sharp talon like claws, but it cried so, my
Mother instinct overrode my sinus of reasoning, it’s helpless,
Tender howling touched the darkness of my deepest Edger
Allen soul, so I picked it up, and took it home!
Now, now I told it, don’t be afraid, I’ll cut you free from
Your iron cage, it seemed to understand me in dark
Level that I can’t explain, my little creepy dude,
By the way such became his name, my undead pet
From the realm of the unknown!
It growled and hissed at me at first, almost nipping
At my bare fingertips, I’ll have none of that biting
Business, I told it just be patient I’ll have you out
In just a few minutes!
At long last it burst free, running attempting to
Flee far away from me, but I was quicker than it,
This terrifying thing, that captured me with it’s 
Howling cry!
Now my little creature feature, you need a bath
It shivered at the mention of the word, meaning clean!
But it had a very foul musty odor of brimstone, and
Rotten fleshy decay, into a vat of Mr. Bubbles it so went,
This it thing, my creepy little dude!
 After I brushed and towel him off, I feed him a mushy
Mush of oatmeal and milk, but he spit it at me, “ok what
Does a thing like you eat than,” I asked!
The creature than went to my fridge just as if it were
The most natural thing in the world to do, grabbed a 
Bottle of spuds suds, popped the cork, and sat next to
The old boo tube, now just you wait a cotton picking 
Minute, I thought to myself, no way!
 It than snatched a slice of day old pizza from a nasty,
Cardboard box sitting in my waste paper bin, gobbled
It down in a moment, than burped out soundly, 
It’s gratifications satisfaction!
The whole time I’m wondering what the #### did I bring
Home, this it thing, that now reminds me of my ex-husband,
Beer, pizza, and TV burping, but just as I was thinking about
Taking it to the dead creature’s animal shelter, it captured
My inner heart all over again, in a flick of my heart 
It had nestled in my lap, growling in a purr, than
Tenderly clawing at my tummy, it snoozed!
From that point on it this thing, fondly known as
My creepy little dude, could do no wrong in my eyes,
It stayed just the same size, even though it eat night
And day, it drooled on everything, from the baseboards
To the chandler but I didn’t care, for he was my
Creepy little dude!
Than the next Halloween night it happened,
I got a knock at my pantry door, it was two
Creatures, a female werewolf, and a male
Choapa Cobra, excuse us Miss Have you seen,
A metal basinet bob wire ball?
My little creepy dude ran passed me, in a flash yelled momma,
And the jig was up, these unusual parents thanked me,
Hugged their baby and left, I never saw the it thing again
After that, my little creepy dude was gone forever!
But I’ll never forget, what happened not so long ago,
On a Halloween night, or my treasured pet, the it thing,
Known as my little creepy dude!
 
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

 DEDICATED TO BEN STRONG-THE ORIGINAL CREEPY DUDE






Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015


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I Confess I am Guilty

When I was just seven, so small
My best friend Jacob, outdid us all
He had a pet Cobra, cool as could be
He forgot to feed it for a whole week you see

So I killed him

When I was fourteen, I went to the zoo
So many animals, all lounging around
Some seemed starved and some seemed week
One poor zebra died right on its feet

So I killed a Zookeeper

When I was twenty one I met a young blonde
We dated and loved and times where great
Her pet Collie so youthful with such playful traits
She left him in the car, the heat at one hundred and eight

So I killed my girlfriend

I am older now, a full mature twenty eight
My neighbor Miss Jennings has a cat we call him Mate
He loves all the felines all over the town
Till Miss Jennings had him neutered the Mate is down

So I killed Miss Jennings

Now I am thirty five and working so hard
At the animal shelter as the night guard
They bring in the wounded, the week and defenseless
All these humans who treat pets with out any senses

So I killed few strangers who mistreated pets

I am forty-two and work for the park
Where they come every day walking their pets after dark
In leashes so tight and bound round the neck
How is the good? Oh what the heck

So I killed all of them too

Now I am forty nine and in county jail
For some serial crimes they accuse me of committing
All I did was love animals, who are they kidding?
I am the hero in this story you all must see?

So I escaped and killed the jailor and now I am free

I have read the local papers; I am on the front page
They want to put me in a prison cage
Oh and there is PETA, who claim me as Saint
I am so proud why I might almost faint

But I kill myself as my final act

To be with the animals I loved till the last


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


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DRACULA'S CASTLE


In the eases softening breeze leaves rustle in the crisp
Autumn air, as the creeping shadows begin to claim the
Hallows of the darkening night, layer by layer the blackness
Swallows whole the last remaining essence of light, 
At dusk's twilight’s fading hour!
Within isolation's remote venue, the spiritually forgotten
Slithering forth as a vaporous residue oozing outwardly
From fractures breakages in the castle walls, phantoms
Do creep in silhouette form, these the disembodied 
Severed from their living life force!
Decades stacked by historical bones of the murdered,
 Slaughtered and tortured to death, privations materials
Of strength for the strong bricks needed, with bloods
Lubrication and fleshes supple distinction, a fortress
Of pure evil was wrought and made!
In this demonic lair of the supernatural, pricked has
Been the thin veil of humanity, releasing the backwash 
Of the neither world, it elopes forth dispelling, draining 
Within a crimson whirlpool of the vile and distained!
The whistling howls of the past deceased, echo hauntingly between
 The mangled ruins of the torrents, as the heavy footsteps of
Armed soldiers clamor above, upon the battlement towers!
Yet nothing outside can be seen by the naked human eye,
Except a chilling presence, chased away in the breezes
Of reality!
Storm clouds gather as if a woven tapestry of the demonic,
Clamoring thunder bolts clash, against the earth shattering
Lighting grappling at the roof of Dracula’s Castle!
 For it is a dark omen, an ominous ushering of his awakening,
The dark master of evil will soon walk amongst the living
Once more, as the children of the night howl, in a terrifying,
Nightmarish tribute unto their satanic lord!
For buried beneath the rotten floor boards of his ruins castle,
Hidden within the moldy, musty tombs of generations of death,
And decays mummified putrid flesh, a narcissistic demon dwells!
This unsanctified grave robber of the living, the devil’s unholiest
 Of spawn, whom survives on the life essence of humanity?
The beast at wing, transforming at deceptions beckoning,
To capture the innocent victim unaware, of his menacing 
Threating presence, until it is far too late for escape!
Behold the vampiric cobra ready to strike, at the bare exposed
Throat of innocence, in the throbbing fanged points of 
Penetration lies an ethereal passion, the consummation of
Light being totally consumed by the ultimate darkness,
Nay behold mortal, the birthing of a newly born vampire!
In the chilling of the blood there is life, it’s the viral
Infection of the afterlife, this creature with insights
Enhightened senses flares outwardly against the moons
Translucent light, extending its gargoyle like wings,
Unto the dark dominion of his black fathers kingdom!
Count Dracula is pleased, with his newest dark disciple,
Returns unto his place of ancestral birth, to rest again
Until night falls abyss absorbs the sun once more,
Than this darkest of lords, shall walk amongst his 
Undead kindred, as their ultimate master of destruction!
Welcome curiosity’s transgressor, know that you have been so warned,
For you’ve entered the deadliest of the twilight zones,
Here humanity has little standing ground, except to feed
The undead tribe of a vampiric father, known as Count Dracula!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN














Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015


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THE BLOODY TOWER

THE BLOODY TOWER

I am so trapped a phantom princess, on an ethereal plain, spiritually
Forgotten in isolation's domain, in hell's chamber of brick and mortar,
In this imprisonment of the unjust, I'm the innocent accursed, in England's
Bloody tower of London.
Once beauties most desired, men and kings fell before my velvet slippers,
Begging for pleasures tokens, yet I denounce them, for youth's rose I'd not sell,
Except for devotion's everlasting love.
But men are beasts, with silver tongues of deceit, and the blind heart
Hears only the charming words of vow's promises, spoken beneath the
Moonlight's enchanting spell I fell, a victim of this viper's poisonous bite.
So did thus a royal seducer come unto me, and by a jeweled crown,
And golden bands, I believed in this the usurper, of betrayals broken
Hearted.
Blessed in wedding's sacred church, we bowed our heads low, yet 
Next to me did I not recognize, the wolf hidden beneath the royal robes.
In the bed chamber, he sheds his linens of refinement, and then so exposed,
To the innocent lamb, his sharpened talons, ravished by his carnal lust,
A child bride was so sacrificed, upon the altar of passion's desires.
At mornings first rays of light, the mighty cobra left his bedding's nest,
Leaving behind him a slain creature tarnished by his royal scepter, laughing
In harmony's revelry, with his newly weeping court jester, did this king
Of lies ascend unto his crimson throne, ready to seek another's affection.
Condemned and judged by a jury of mine own kinsmen, for falsehood's
Crimes, my destiny’s fate is to be cut short by a doubled edge blade.
Oh Lord let my hearts sparrow take flights heights, and soar unto thee,
On thy far distant shore, but no prayers answer could save me.
Led unto mine own gallows, I'm led a queen dethroned for the loss
Of her own innocence, the black hooded Grim Reaper smiles at me,
I so do stumble, than collapse.
Placing my shaved head onto the anvils cold steel, listening to the crowds
Screaming off with her head, than a sudden crack, and my life is ended.
A phantom princess am I, wandering from the castle battlements,
To the gardens of fragrant roses, but nay not one step further, for all
Eternity.
From my window's keep, the world outside does change, yet here all
Remains the same, repetitions loop of reflective remote viewing,
Reliving the past over and over again.
If this not be hell's vengeance upon me, the accused than what have
I, the innocent done, to deserve such torture.
In the bloody tower, the walls do so bleed crimson red, and ghostly
Images past nay by the window pains of glass, begging for freedoms
Release from shackles made of mists mystical chains,
Pray for them, the lost souls of histories forgotten.





Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014


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My cousin

They said you was sneaky
But your sweetness blinded 
My judgement
They said you couldn't be trust
But my heart see through flaws
My heart got me caught up in your web
You was a dark entity up under me
Watching my every move
Studying my walk 
My talk 
My style
You wanted my life
You conquer it 
You manipulate my presence
In twisted it for your selfish 
Agenda
You drove my car
Wore my clothes
But now I know
Your intentions was my man
He fell for your cobra spirit
You wrap around his temptation
In took it home base 
With your upper hand
He lost the battle with his weakness 
You both made a mockery of me
You two got a thrill off my hurt
My pain 
My love I had for you two
Had the world thinking I'm paranoid
I'm crazy
Praying my hurt don't turn into hate
Now the tables turn
You caught some of his blows
You lost grip on your life
You had put your trust on sweet nothings
After you witness my tears in pain
Through the years
He incarcerated drowning in misery
Waiting for his judgement
You self medicating your pain away
I forgive you both
My cousin



Copyright © Patrice Trice Jackson | Year Posted 2016


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The Fighter

For most of his 
Bumming around days
He was lost 
In dead end jobs
Once in the gym
He became a silhouette of youth
Weaving like a cobra
Slipping
Countering
Learning how to hook
Footwork and poise
A moving target
Possessing  speed
And brutal power
Waiting
To connect
On
Flesh and bone.

All his life
He searched for what was missing
His dream
Was to be champion
Months
Years of solitary training
Was the price he gladly paid.

The ring waited
Patiently
Knowing that he lived for the moment
When all was a blur
Of sudden activity
Moving shadows
And the roar of the crowd.
 
Years go by
Another decade
Another time
The city moves on
In a singular rhythm all its own
For him
Time now stands still
In a quiet place
Of warm sunlight
Streaming through an open window
A place of
Old fight posters
And faded photographs.

He won a title
Had good times
Some laughs
Traveled with an entourage
Met the famous
Parties came and went
And so did his money.

Holding the yellowed clipping
The old thrill
Returned 
He felt strong again
The bright lights were on 
The roar of the crowd
Was louder than he ever remembered
The smart money and the ladies were in front
All eyes on him
Bobbing and weaving in the empty gym
He stopped to catch his breathe
Raising his hands in triumph
He knew that in the bottom of his gut
No matter what anyone said or did
In the ring
He had fought and lived like a champion.


Copyright © Edmund Siejka | Year Posted 2010


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The Trouser Snake

There once was a king cobra called Lance,
Who heard music and went in a trance.
People thought he was asleep,
As his thoughts were so deep.
Then he reared up and lunged for their pants.


Jack Horne for Dr Ram's Music and Meditation


Copyright © jack horne | Year Posted 2011


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MEDUSA


Amongst myths and legends shadow realm,
Dwells an ancient evil.
Beneath temples walls, and shattered ruins,
Beware mortals of what lies within the,
Burnt offerings wreckage.
In a hushed stilled silence, a figure lingers,
On the outer edges farthest fringes,
In the dark recess of humanity's night terror,
Lurks a demon a demonic priestess,
Called Medusa.
Reptilians fork tongue of darkness’s,
Grand design,
Listen not be deaf to her sweet melodies
Enchantment.
She slithers side by side as a rattle snake,
Moving in for its killing strike.
A hooded cobra lies behind emerald green eyes,
Laughing with sheer fiendish delights pleasure.
Deadliest of Lucifer's mistresses, she alone.
Waits for her next victim to enter,
This dead mans trap.
Frozen in that last tangible moment of existence,
Life depictions stone guardians, seemingly alive are
Poised in eerie poses.
Cement warriors with swords drawn and
Shields raised remain in battles stance.
A chilling realization is fears last expression,
Daring fools whom see death's reflection
Staring right back at them in the dark.
Fleshes accursed immortalized within
These statues of stone.
Fortune does not favor the foolhardy,
It punishes them by tortuous means.
A doubled edge blade placed in mortal,
Hands does not always yield a hero, or
Conqueror.
Step ever so lightly, keep all weapons,
Close at hand.
Heroic deeds deny you this adventurous tail.
For in the hollows depth no spirit escapes,
In her garden most evil,
Beware the wrath of Medusa.


BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN












Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014


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peace lilies

peace lilies' cobra blooms reach over jacuzzie.. achoo peace disturbed
To me the Peace Lilies blossoms look like a Cobra's Hood...


Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2013


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ANTICIPATION

Feverish heat spreads across my body
Thoughts of seeing you again
Echoes of words electronically spoken
A cascade of pent-up emotions
Desire flowing like a tap open

O!  To be touch again by silken fingertips
The erotic graze of fingers across my lips
The head that holds your intelligence
Rested upon my watered breast
No sound except the ones in our world

Swift currents of desire flowing
Like the swelling of Rio Cobra River
The sweet incense of your masculinity
Pervading the diminished confines of the room
And I bask in its aromatic seduction

The blazing of two embers
Where ashes once had covered
Revealing the flare waiting to shine fair

Who can take your place my love?
No substitute can be found
Your charm and grace
Stretches way across the hills and vale
Touching me even as I wait
In feverish, anticipation


Copyright © Joy Wellington | Year Posted 2010


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THE FORBIDDEN CITY

Bow the great dragons, unto the mighty,
Ruler under heaven.
The divine master's iron heel, lies upon the
Serpents neck.
For brilliance illusion a golden throne shines,
Blinding those whom refuse to see the truth.
The trail leading unto the river of blood,
Streaming across a ruined country side.
Striking powers scepter against angers, 
Weakest point his own peoples innocent
Beliefs.
How did this tyrant usurper create such,
Beauty with arrogance strangle hold??
A rampaging tiger tightly grappling,
All ends of a concord nation.
Tarring it's inner seams until it bleeds, 
Internally leaving it unable to breathe.
Push wide the ancient gates, and behold,
The forbidden city of crimson red.
Sky pillars an archway, holding seemingly,
Up the very heaven's themselves.
In awed amazement beneath the great steps
Of China towards Beijing’s southern most edge.
Lies a glittering palace, of opulence greedy design.
Honor bound at royal bidding's commend,
Living china dolls, porcelain ladies of finest
Quality, his majesty’s playthings.
Green emerald eyes, flash enticing mortals,
To venture beyond safety's threshold.
Meet certain doom for those whom,
Trifled between temptations desire to satisfy,
Lusts insatiable thirsts.
Or honors sacred trust between master and servant.
The lion guards his holy temple ready to strike,
With sharp talons drawn.
Drinking the blood of his vanquished enemies.
But falls unto shame as blackness vail descends 
Casting his dark soul unto the four winds of 
Destiny.
Even in deaths wake, split by thunder, and
Lightning’s mighty quake.
Doesn't the poised hood cobra lie in wait 
To protect this his sacred garden,
In the land of the rising sun.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013


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FUTURE PEASANTS OR POLITICAL PROPAGANDA

WOULD YOU GIVE UP YOUR LIFE 
FOR SOMEONE ELSES LIE 
I ONLY HAVE A ONE WORD QUESTION 
THAT QUESTION WOULD BE WHY 

HAVE YOU EVER LOOKED 
INTO THE EYES OF EVIL 
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A FIGHT 
BETWEEN A COBRA AND A WEASEL 

YOU CALL YOURSELF A REBEL 
HOW LONG WILL THAT LAST 
ARE YOU FIGHTING A JUST CAUSE 
OR FIGHTING YOUR OWN PAST 

DID YOU REALLY TATTO YOURSELF 
OR IS THAT JUST ILLUSION 
TRY AND HELP ME UNDERSTAND  
WHAT LED TO THAT CONCLUSION 

WHEN YOU GROW OLD WILL YOU SEE 
THE SAME WAY AS YOU DO 
WILL YOU LOOK INTO THE MIRROR 
AND SWEAR WHAT YOU SEE IS'NT YOU 

MAYBE YOU WOULD LIKE SOME TIME 
TO GIVE YOURSELF SOME THOUGHT 
MAYBE YOU WILL UNDERSTAND 
THE TRUTH IN WHAT YOU BOUGHT

Note: This poem is about people who select a President based on T.V. adds paid for by big business and big money political groups. It's about people who consider (tatoo) themselves activist and political supporters. 2008 was the first time we saw 8 year olds with their 2nd grade education trying to sway voters. Today we are forced into buying (blame it on Obama) ObamaCare, Mandatory Vaccines, GMO's, limited free speach. Maybe this poem will open eyes, before 99% of the U.S. population is looked apon as peasants.


Copyright © Michael E. Harris | Year Posted 2016


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Witness Statement

As I watched,
like a lion with its prey
the wave growled and snarled
while crouching, preparing to pounce.
Rushing up the sloping shingle beach,
it reached out and dragged pebbles
down into its lair.

I heard
the rasping raking of the beach tumbling
pell-mell and headlong into the sea
and saw
stones spewed out as leftovers
in the next cold wave of grey water,
breaking in trails of white foam
along the coastline.

I watched
the wind-blown spray
and the black clouds over grey water
threatening and evil;
a wave rose, a hooded cobra
striking the rocks of the breakwater
before devouring them.

I listened
to the plaintive cries of
a young herring gull high above the sea,
blown sideways by the gale.

But
full twenty feet from the shore
the black-clad cormorant sat securely smug
on a post, the predator’s perch.
A swift, triumphant swoop filled his beak with supper
and I watched as he flew away.


Copyright © Elisabeth Sheaffer | Year Posted 2013


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My Car's a Mustang

No Cobra 427
in my Mustang
come on girls
you know what I mean.

No leather interior
in my Mustang
come on gals
you get what I mean.

My Mustang has the
manual shift
don't you girls
know what I mean?

My Mustang has leather
exterior
can't you gals
get what I mean?

My Mustang races
at breakneck speeds
I ride on his back
a grin on my face.

By now you've guessed
what my Mustang is
not only my ride
he's the friend by my side.






Copyright © Robyn Campbell | Year Posted 2015


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Unquotable quotes - XII

Unquotable quotes – XII

To catch a monkey, you need a young coconut with three holes for eyes ; bore a hole in one and wait : the monkey will thrust its hand in to grab a mouthful and will not let go come what may.
To catch a false monk, you need an orphan.
To catch a thief, you need either a camera or a cobra.
To catch a bluffer, you need to make him believe ya.
To catch a fly, you need a spider with a parlour.
To catch a poisonous snake, you need a retracting  loup on a long ten-foot pole.
To catch a giant, you need a sling with a stone.
To catch a Pharoah, you need his sister with a hisser.
To catch a priest, you need the advice of his Chief Geist.
To catch a stool-pigeon, you need another stool-pigeon.
To catch a plane, you need a valid ticket.
To take a train, you need a ticket-puncher.
To board a ship, you need to rise with the tide.
To catch the woman next-door, you need to wait until the paramour goes out the back-door.
To catch a ripe durian, you need to have a hard or an empty head.
To capture a girl in a burqa, all you need is another burqa.
To capture a rat in a hole, all you need is a secret service mole.
To capture a pirate ship in a canal, all you need to do is to lower the water-level.
To catch a polar bear and her cubs, all you need to do is to raise the level of your exhaust fumes.
To catch a lark on a bark, all you need to do is to click your camera.
To catch the sun in the morn, all you need to do is to sleep with your window open.
To catch cold, all you need to do is to stand stark naked bold.
To catch forty winks, you need to be full of drinks.
To get on peoples’ nerves, you need to step on their toes.
To catch the pox, you need to meet a certain lady who lounges around the docks.
To come to grief, all you need to do is to rob Fort Knox.

© T. Wignesan - Paris,  2016



Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016


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It's a very boring day

Today is a very boring day, 
There is nothing good to do,
I went crushing through the toilet door and
landed in the loo, 
There's a cobra nesting in my pants,
and a wombat on my head,
There's a walrus flopping here and there,
By god, I think I'm mad!

Today is a just so boring,
I swallowed a stick of glue,
there's a goblin hoard in my backyard and
a pack of werewolves too.
There's a chicken atop a unicorn, 
a penguin swinging a sword,
there's a Leprechaun feeling all forlorn,
Oh, I'm so thoroughly bored!

Today's such a boring day,
I slipped and banged my face,
A spaceship crush-landed on the roof
and set the house ablaze,
A meteor came looming into view,
as volcanoes roared away,
Oh well, there's nothing good to do,
it's a very boring day. 

22/01/17





 




Copyright © Jamie Pan | Year Posted 2017