Best Danger Poems
I sense your presence, not seeing
Your shadow flitting about.
Without touching you, I can feel
The booming beats of your heart.
Your sudden scream makes my head throb.
I bite down with angry fangs.
Contest: Night Creatures, No. 2; Rattlesnake.
Written 1/17/15 by Isaiah Zerbst.
A pyromaniac named Jack,
Who hailed from the town of Hackensack,
Decided one day,
with matches he’d play
He’s a mummy now, flat on his back!
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh, my.
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh why?
Lions and Tigers and Bears are not really all that scary to me,
When we read the facts about other animals in tropical forests, and under the sea.
We should change the song to this little tune:
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh my.
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh why?
These little creatures are as scary as the cone snail which is no cartoon.
The cone snail has a hypodermic-like needle with venom, shaped like a harpoon.
So if you see a cone shell, on a beautiful beach,
Remind yourself it may be alive, before you reach.
If you are in a rain forest, and you see the cutest little golden frog hopping through,
Know before you pocket it that it weighs less than an ounce, but has enough poison to kill you.
The golden poison dart frog could take you out, and nine of your favorite fellow travelers too.
The toxin, which comes out of her sweet little skin,
could show you all what a mood she is in.
The puffer fish is clumsy, and slow, and cannot readily hide.
But his toxins are more deadly than twelve hundred spoons of cyanide.
Lions, tigers, and bear, oh my.
Better them than the puffer fish, golden dart frog, cone snail, and the tsetse fly.
Black as the night
I watched her dance alone to the holy Jazz songs. Simmering words make her body move slow and easy to the songs. I know to keep my distance, she was so damn beautiful and I knew.
If you dance with a woman, who heart is gone, her eyes are cold and deadly. Love is myth and tale to her. Better to be a bystander who won't learn the taste of the sweet warm lips and the entanglement of legs, arms and skin. When you dance with the Devil. The Devil always win.
She came to me and she whispered. Not dancing with me Johnnie tonight. Is it fear or wisdom? I'm lonely my sweet man, baby, honey and dear. Please dance with me, whisper me a sexy story. Where love is sweet and forever. Make my skin bleed with need, make my body beg to be caressed and kissed. Don't be afraid Johnnie. Your heart is blacker than my heart. You make the Summer days colder. I like and need this.
I stood-up and I took her hands. We wandered to the dance floor. The Jazz is good and she is hotter than a wildfire that cannot be controlled. I put my face into her long auburn hair, brought her body closer and I felt every movement of her hips and shoulders. I whispered to her. Black hearten lady, my perfect muse and sweetheart. You are heaven and hell in the same kiss. The dead hours lover's, love the blackness of the night and we give all we have left to the sameness of the people who forgot the sweetness of love and kind touch.
She smiled and she looked at my face and she whispered. Johnnie, can save the dead in heart. If you don't want to be saved. It is alright Johnnie. Broken down people don't want miracles and hide their dreams. At the Purgatory Inn, the jazz is wonderful and you and I. We can pretend, better than being alone.
Two people are moving slow and easy to the Jazz and the blackness of the night covered the day. Safe haven for the cold and the lonely.
Johnnie/Coyote
Too slow is the speed of life,
so we try to outrun avalanches and race sounds,
flee into roaring tubes of hungry water,
brave invisible waves in the sky.
Too barren is the landscape of life,
so we take shelter in surly jungles and unruly gulfs,
set out to survive deserts where even memories die,
trespass peaks reserved for birds and clouds.
Too bloodless are the aesthetics of life,
so we declare emotional asylum in the turmoil of music,
find refuge in the jarring, scarring beauty of poetry,
ask to be abducted into the haunted wilderness of art.
Too transactional are the relationships of life,
so we pawn our souls for the drugs of cults and creeds,
trust in friends or their imposters,
risk heartbreak for a few moments when the world spins.
Too fraught is life with the danger of safety,
so we seek salvation in a rush of adrenalin,
or a trickle of madness.
Empty-handed is no way to leave.
We’ll hitch a ride on those spikes along that flatline.
Or be impaled upon them.
Beware of weirdos lurking the internet
Let them in your life at your own risk
It’s the playground of psychopaths
Wolves in sheep’s clothing
And social outcasts
Heed my words
Beware
AP: 3rd place 2020
Posted on October 21, 2018
I never meant to love you, I never meant to care
I never meant to cross the line or change a thing, I swear
You never could call what we have a sordid, cheap affair
There's a faint reek of stagnation and confusion in the air
I always thought I knew you, you and I, we are the same
I'd laugh off jokes of romance and the daft things you proclaim
I don't know if my burning cheeks are cause by hope or shame
You keep your hand on mine to hold my fingers to the flame
I wonder how you do it, with warnings you should come
Chase the latest gambit to crush beneath your thumb
I fear you live for danger and have only just begun
I'll let you play me one last time, but please,
Don't think you've won.
19th November 2011
A beautiful vibrant woman you once were
Now you live your life in an alcoholic blur
Lying in a hospital bed your skin is turning yellow
Your hubby is finding it hard to cope, he’s such a lovely fellow
But your love is now for the bottle it makes me oh so sad
Seeing such a promising life turn out now to be so bad
People have tried to help you but you need to help yourself
Kick this horrid lifestyle bring your business back to wealth
For that too is now crumbling it’s such a wasted life
I want to see you back to that once amazing wife
People are powerless to help you unless you can just say
‘I am an alcoholic help to me live another way'
8th May 2014
Written about a dear friend who is currently in hospital
I do hope she can beat this but until she admits she has a problem no one can help
THE DESPERATES
The hungry and the poor,
Will always try to find a door,
That will offer them a little more,
Than what they had before.
They cross the border through
The Kruger Park,
When it’s dark,
A singularly desperate act!
Between them all they,
Have made a pact,
To secure a life,
Where they can survive,
Or die trying in a
Desperate strife,
To keep alive!
Sadly, they often become,
Human bait,
To fearsome cats,
Who are surely looking for that
Foreign smell of meat,
And will prowl until they
Find them, then
One by one, to eat!
The few that do not
Meet their fate,
Kneel down and pray,
For yet another day!
These predators
Prefer the night,
When they have the
Best eyesight,
But also take chances when
It is light,
And give these desperate
Humans an unexpected fright,
Who leave behind,
A trail of scent.
The Animals spot their
Prey under the shade of a tree,
That offers afternoon cool.
They already begin to drool!
The only sign that humans were
There, are knitting needles,
And a ball of wool!
Still more human bait is left,
Although many are now bereft,
They run and hide,
Down mud, they slide,
For hope that
On the other side,
They will find,
Peace of mind!
Some make it to the other side,
But sadly still have to hide
From humankind,
Who seek, these
Desperate people out,
For cheap labour, they
Know their route!
All has been in vain,
As once again,
They are forced to be poor,
And used and abused.
All they wanted was a
Simple life, never had
Any illusions of grandeur,
And so the door
They sought,
Has only brought,
More sorrow,
On the morrow!
In front of the dangerous animal
I don't run but I don't stay close
nor do I show myself...
beware the thorny brambled track ~ trespassers risk entanglement
Proverbs 4 verse 14 (New King James)
'Do not enter the path of the wicked, And do not walk in the way of evil.
18.11.19
Proverbial Monoku 2 Poetry Contest - sponsored by Carol Connell
……….gale force winds announce the doom
…………………..portent of a dark and deathly gloom
…………………………..a maddening shriek of raging wind
……………………….howling terror the frightening din
………….rips great trees from the ground
….tosses the structures all around
………….raging malice haunting fright
………………twister spinning in the night
……………………….darkened clouds surging
…………….wind and rain merging
…..funnel of mighty hell
..tolls the death knell
…………terrors bloody ride
…………………..nowhere to hide
…………spinning away
…….from all that
…………..used to be
……..what we
…………called
………..this
………..life
when infatuation soars
careful who you let in
guard your heart
and lock your doors
for heaven’s sake think twice
throw not caution to the wind
careful who comes close
lest they tear your life apart
AP: 2nd place 2021
Submitted on July 22, 2021 for contest DOORS sponsored by ANTHONY BIAANCO
Originally posted on February 23, 2019
befuddled with liquor
hearing noises in the distance
unclear fuzzy thinking
faculties blown
lah-lah-land feeling
outer space beyond comprehension
inhibitions gone
someone maneuvers your body
you do not care
fences gone
whatever happens happens
a dangerous place
"Lord what fools these mortals be!" Wm. Shakespeare
I hesitate to be on the same page,
with I the greatest poet of the ages,
but I believe his words to be true now,
fools gathering when it is not allowed.
The fools don't care who they put in danger,
be it a love one or perfect stranger,
they have no conscious when told to stay home,
as out in the streets they carelessly roam.
So, the only way to make them comply,
big fines, long jail time, government should try,
in order to flatten the virus curve,
and help all the caregivers who serve.
If I am wrong and callus so be it,
remember the curve top we have not hit.