Best Escapee Poems
On the fateful day before Halloween
Dressed as a vampire queen in green
I passed through the graveyard
With all my senses on guard
When I heard a rustling mean
In horror I turned around to see
Who had the audacity to scare me
Saw an old man bending low
Chiseling his name in a row
Looked to be a veteran escapee
I told him not to disturb the grave
When he started to turn and rave
His family didn’t spell him right
And he with his might
Had come out his name to engrave
They call me Moro,
not the Moors of Africa,
they insult me more,
and I assumed adore,
but in a good way ...
Colonial mind say;
"A good Moro is a dead Moro",
in a slur way,
and the Compatriot slaves;
says, a Moro-Moro ...
And anyway,
I call myself Moro,
I was a Moro,
I am now a Moro,
a Mawarao for Moro...
The Slang spoke on my name,
they heard me wrong,
they write me wrong,
they make me slur,
and they called me Moron ...
Still I stand for Moro,
a Mawarao for Moro,
an adjective word Brave,
a noun word Warrior,
in a local Lingua origin...
It is a right choice,
to commensurate Moro,
In a bravery Memoir,
a Maranao for Warrior,
a Maranao for Brave...
Moro as they may call,
Is someone who installed,
when someone wished,
in a level upwarded,
or in the top and high...
Moro as they may call,
Is someone who cornered,
to hunt of an animal escapee,
in the no exit zone,
That means a good hunter...
Bangsa is a Nation,
a Malayan word people,
with a royalty tone,
and historic nobility,
a collective unity...
Now my name is Moro,
and I belong to a Royal,
a fierce Warrior of the Orient,
in a society of Moro,
that built me BangsaMoro ...
By: ditadawayen sa ranao - Khadaffy D. Mangondato
Potato Mountain
I will arrive
an habitual escapee
from the rabbit warrens
of central planners
By ferreting north
in search of
breaks in the maze
rifts in the grid
I will follow
a stream beside
the climbing track
and yet higher
To a saddle below
the great ridge
southward along
eastern slopes
To a fine summit
of long vistas
and white gravel-skirts
exposed to sun
Exposed to eyes
sweeping round
the slow wide circle
of arcs in passage
Years to degree
degree to century
century to millennia
beyond human sight
And my own frail
footsteps in iron soil
blown to oblivion
by winds now shadowing
My identical track
passed beehives
thickets and copse
up the potato
To a summit
of concrete pylon
red dirt
and folk art
Where unknown infidels
posed the creative
issue of their
anonymous fancy
In the form
of starch-fat tubers
affixed with parasols
to shade them
And toothpicks to
give them arms
and bay leaves
to make them hair
Hats to render
them style
atop bald and oblong
pates of brown
Wings of sumac leaf
sleek and waxy
to impart mottled skins
flights of fancy
But they cannot fly
like chaparral birds
fitted to wind
and wildness
Unmoving the potatoes
await their fate
on a flat stage
above the world
Three days pass
their number reduced
in gathering erosions
and mathematical decline
Four days
the mule deer
has found them
yet still proud potatoes
Pass from deer
to lion to
slow beetles
upon the soil
And there the
once magnificent
and well-arrayed
vegetable host
Submits bravely to
mechanical escorts
in the brief free fall
to worlds below
This is the last of us you'll ever see.
You've executed that initial thrill.
With this goodbye, at last you're free of me.
Though you might miss the way we used to be,
Of recent suffering, you've had your fill;
This is the last of us you'll ever see.
Resist arrest, no penitentiary
Can hold an edgy soul against its will.
With this goodbye, at last you're free of me.
Be agile and elude captivity.
Embrace no fondness that you wouldn’t kill.
This is the last of us you'll ever see.
You'll live a life now as an escapee
Concealing yourself with uncanny skill
With this goodbye, at last you're free of me.
Accept the fact however you did flee
You have emerged a harder person still.
This is the last of us you'll ever see.
With this goodbye, at last you're free of me.
As the mountain sniff the thyme
The valley the basil,
The forests the trees and swamps.
As the waves launched their rein and foam,
And the chest of the sea open to his sensualism and obscenity
As the knower's wisdom roar in the ebb and flow night ,
As the remnants of ruins linked to her argillaceous cradle,
And the seas to their shores and islands to their seas.
....
My face attached to his freckled crescents shadow,
Carved by myths gods, and sacrificial rites,
Attached by panting poems,the smell of death stories..
Escapee from the sand,and dissolved in his nucleic acid.
"A dreamer" but I am not, it's what they fail to see. "An escapee" I
am, in my solitude where I long to be.
My world inside out, a place where few have ever been. A cell most
would flee, I fight for time to be in.
There no one may reach me, just my own thoughts to illume. I see more
clearly when left to self, alone inside this room.
My cell is guarded by lock and key, no one cracks this shell. It's all
the fortress that I need when life's not quite so well.
No I am no "dreamer", but to my thoughs, I oft am found. It's the
solace of solitude that keeps me firmly still around.
(a mirror)
A wrinkled face
An old man
The he who stares back
The eyes of a thousand wars
A deprived man confined in a concentration camp
For only three years
The escapee with the supposed malaria
A hero of the war
The Too malnutritioned
Now blind just for us
This new added adjustment
He then found love
A nurse
a teacher
The she
the one and only
A sixty year hold
That forever embedded his heart
He Who then left a seventeen year old girl
Who never had a place in his heart
Though instead she only knew
The tootsie rolls given with his smiles
The girl only five
An the old man….
The he who stares back…..
I don’t have a favourite,
I love each and every one
Whether happy or sad
Cheerful or glum
I love Grim Kim
And Moanie Toni
Henpecky Becky
And Naggy Maggie
I love Bella Stella
And Indie Lindy
Funny Honey
And Windy Cindy
I love Tarty Marti
And Burley Shirley
The Felon Helen
And that twirly girlie
I love Flabby Gabby
And Escapee Lee
Chardonnay Kay
And Meat free Fi
I love Prudy Judy
And Racy Macy
Pristine Christine
And Straight Lacy Tracy
Form:
Shaking her wet ears, uncertain
How her purpose may be best served
Stagger concealed in immersion
Shown the pasture that she deserved
Frolicking safely within a flock
Diminutive trot to the beat kept timid
Faithfully bides time, tick clock
Offer of grace to God signals her limit
Wool washed, cleansed by clan
Coddled offspring wrapped with cotton
Shepherd held title, simple plan
Dinners prepared, archaic ideals rotten
Bristling beneath her softness
Fibres frayed at what her life signifies
Dismayed to only boost profits
Loyal lamb follow is forsaken sacrifice
Fuming, she rips off her fleece
Livid lion malicious marauder dormant
Roars revenge, discards peace
Trek to reckless, divorce her informant
Taught to shelter, even in harm
Trust husband’s will, cutlet finale fate
Savage feline, leaving the farm
Sleek escapee lapping blood off plate
Sacrificial Sixteenth November
Escapee garments
Strewn hither and yon
Some still hanging from the drawers
Where neatly they were folded
Only hours before
She parades the halls
And kitchen floor
Her catwalk, she the queen
And just since eating breakfast
It is outfit number seventeen
Next comes the swimsuit part of the show
Soon will be the gowns
Glittering tiaras, feather boas
Hot pink shoes…much too big;
Look out, she’s falling down
Gales of wonderful laughter
That only children can manage
Picking herself up gracefully and strewing ribbons after
Off she goes back down the hall;
The castle further to ravage.
Josiah left the little critter cage
Open at its door.
Little Charlie hamster knew
and climbed down to the floor.
Little Charlie hamster
Made a daring escape.
He slid down the banister
And shimmied up the drape.
Josiah finally noticed
The little rascal gone.
He made a panic search
Feeling sad for for what he'd done.
He looked in all the corners
And under the covers on the bed.
He ran downstairs to take a look
While Charlie watched from overhead.
Josiah shook his head
He knew not what to do.
He couldn't tell his Dad
Or charlie hamster would be through.
Suddenly Charlie lost his balance
And gave himself away.
He tried to scamper down the drapes
And Josiah saved the day.
I sat in my room
Watching TV
When all of a sudden
Something tuned on the screen
A prison escapee not far from here
Was said to have been spotted somewhere near.
I boarded the windows
Locked all the doors
Closed all the curtains
And got to the floor
I told myself there was nothing to fear
For my parents would soon be here
I worried to much, I need to calm down
Until from outside, I heard a strange sound
The sound of nail screeching against the brick wall
It was nothing like I have ever heard, never at all
I thought my mind was playing games on me
Until I looked outside, not a single spot of light could be seen
Was I the only person left on the block
I started to worry, I stared at the clock
When would they get here, where could they be
Whatevers taking them so long, sure is a mystery.
I slowly walked down the dark flight of stairs
When I finally reached the bottom, I gasped for air
I had this strange feeling running through my gut
I knew something was happening, but what?
I heard another strange noise coming from outside
I ran to the living room, and slowly peeked outside
It was my parents car sitting in the driveway,
But wait, wait a second, where were they?
I did not hear the opening of the door
I did not hear their feet walk across the floor
Something was wrong, something was not right
I ran to my bedroom, and shut the door tight
I hid under my bed, shaking with fright
I knew I was going to die, when out went the lights.
Form:
It’s been a while since we talked
I waited on you, not knowing that you’re also waiting on me.
During that time, I’ve sat back and through that pain I’d walk
all those pain you left me with are gone now, I am free.
But then today, you charged back into my life.
Shouldn’t you know better to stay away?
Clearly I’ve gone over it, don’t talk to me, I will strife
Get out! Get out right now, don’t delay!
You kept on with your lies so well
and at the end blamed it all on me.
You never believed when I told the truth, oh hell!
And at the end I’m always the “love” escapee.
Trust me…why wouldn’t you fight your jealousy and lust?
If for once you closed your eyes and actually think
We’re going in circles, my efforts always turned to dusts…
Sacrifices I made flew to forgotten within a blink.
This is it! We’re done. I’m not fooled again
so don’t go beg me, I will not alter.
Enough of the lies, enough of the pain
because I know if I risk again, from you I’ll falter.
It's all there remains
of their faces and names
in the sanguinous pull of the Ocean.
And ever abides the slow, ugly tides
to the ruin of the ordinary people.
But do they next notice
the burns of their focus
as the days stretch back over
those toxic, dirt fumes they accepted?
And never mind life as it skims like a kite
in the form of a deep Ocean tuna.
Laugh all you want, but still time has past.
And who then is worthy of notice?
A pest and a critic
or serene ancient Fish who awaits next
its ultimate destruction.
Nor acting 'til then, but happier still,
than the fools who know not why they're laughing.
No pity, no time for a two legged beast
rising less than the Ocean turtle.
The swells and the ebbs answered less every day
by Great Dinosaur's failed escapee.
And the waters stretch on,
as long as there's time
with the deep Ocean having its answer.
But these monkeys don't question. Nor make any
difference. And can subside
with the tides pulling out.
(Title ends in an exclamation point.)
Run, go, be free
Little Bea
You are carefree
Don't worry about me
Travel through the universe, go sight see
Scream, shout and say whoopee
I watch a bumblebee
An escapee
Like yourself, you see
Bit do not forget your return key
And explore the world safely
But do not forget about me.