Best Executes Poems
as midnight strikes
Count Dracula
sweeps across the floor
his piercing onyx eyes
locked on his prey
executes with artful grace
his macabre dance seduction
in one captivating swoop
charming the panting victim
she offers it up
as he sinks his teeth
siphoning from the porcelain neck
her ruby essence
AP: 3rd place 2020
The tempo of the music
adds energy to the rhythm of the night,
and the pulse of warm blood rushing through sinewy veins.
The mixture of perspiring bodies,
cheap perfume, and tepid whiskey adds a pungent aroma
that permeates even the tattered tablecloths.
The scene, obscured by dimness
and a haze that slowly envelops the dusty paper lanterns,
gives the room an eerie ghost-like glow.
Writhing, creeping forms
undulate, moving sensuously
to the repeated thumping of resonating bass strings.
The soulful melody of the saxophone
weaves its way over, around and through the crowd
as it playfully caresses the thick air.
Remote conversations and laughter
mix with bold encouragements from the crowd
as a lone dancer, with little effort, executes her sexy, sultry moves.
A breeze blows, ever so slightly,
as the door opens and more revelers enter the stifling room,
the lanterns swaying in the breeze.
A thin shaft of moonlight slowly creeps across the bare floor
as the aroma, the haze and the music
waft through the opening and into the rhythm of the night.
Alley dog who models matted coat,
Incensing clothiers at Fifth and Main--
You have no proof you are a legal dog.
One day you knew the power that you are.
Beneath a stack of cast off tires you saw,
You felt, you tasted in a dumpster's steam.
So now you strut through uptown parking lots.
Dog, in a paved field sniffing, please beware
Of skies with signs that hide your ritual moon.
The warden comes to rid the streets of strays,
Incarcerates you, pending no appeal
And executes you for the common good.
Someone has to own you, otherwise
You get the gas. Your crime is being born
Where being does not count, but owning does.
And when they catch you--be assured they will--
And bind your miracle with lethal law,
Bite them for this mongrel poet, too.
Once there was a man called Hitler, the good
“Shape-up or die” his great ethics for good
Remove inhibitions by exposing to light
Fire shyness and inferior thinking out
Bloody this Hitler executes dull minds! Good.
An insane System by any other name
Should still be considered simply insane
A prison by any other name
Could well be the throne
Of a primitivist's brain
A lifestyle by any other name
Would prefer to be called a "subculture"
A truth by any other name
May well be an early grave
After passing around
A bit of the blame
- Do we really wanna play this same game?
Again and again?
Just for the sake of its colloquial name?
Wait-Wait-Wait!
Don't shoot me yet!
I request a fancy blindfold and a pre-lit cigarette:
I want to look super cool
Without a single regret,
When the firing squad executes me
For being such an absurdly passive threat;
Otherwise,
Honestly,
It will feel like I've squandered
Another golden opportunity...
...And obviously,
I couldn't possibly try to live
After something like this...
The story of the thirsty crow,
heard during school days as we grew...
How best in it its wisdom used,
to quench its thirst that summer day
An efficient use of available resource,
to realise a fruitful purpose..
A display of prowess in its fullest sheen,
a situational managerial skill !
Relating crow with intelligence is
not just a random chance factor
Research has already proven that-
This ave is witty and wiser!
Strong in memory,mimicry and
understanding humans as well..
How well this bird integrates in our life
with its adaptive behavioural skill!!!
Elegant black and beautiful
dissolved in it every shade...
Leads a gregarious life,
Shares its food, whenever it finds,
with its kith and kin...
Spreading a message of joy in sharing
and a cordial social life!!!
Chooses a single partner all its life,
Builds its nest, feeds the young,
Protects and nutures them with love ..
Family values and responsibility, I wonder
how it plans and executes so well!!!
Corvus brachyrhynchus-
this is its scientific name...
Genus corvus has in it species numbering forty
American crow, hooded crow, house crow....
List stretches in continuity!
Oh crow! You have your place in
every walk of life!
Research, religion, ritual,
Mythology, folklore, cultural...
Irish mythology sees in you- Morrigan,
God of death and birth
Hindu religion regards you as
their departed ancestor!
Tibetian buddhists associate you with Mahakala
Omens of you are believed to bring
signals from the uncanny world!
You are treated as a connecting link in
the cycle of birth and death!
Oh darling crow! Cheers to you!
This poem in thy name!
Once there was a man called Kingston lovemad
to get things his way executes a strategy. no mad!
fags chain, bangs table, wall
and what not! Shouts all,
bloody this “mad man strategy” often yields. Love mad!
Aye, what a revolution in red and orange against the
venom of society and culture
With the flowers of right palm though a gesture of dance
in fact covers her tears
A story of blue tension and deep emotion in red flamenco
so flamboyantly executes the dancer
The crimson movement of the lyrical arms and torso
in sync with the guitar is awesome
Unique euphoria of exuberance in the swirl of a female figure
so provocative
What a dancing dream doing up the drawings of
the body on the fly
What a message of moons in mounds you convey
through the crafty curves
And each passing passion pulsates from prose to
poetry of muscles and bones
Eros encouraging us to transcend ourselves through
the journey of desire like a fountain
From brownish black towards the orange flames
on the comely conical mountains
And the warmly amber valley as it mingles with the
flames from the dancing spark
Blackens darkens and then harkens at joyous response
of mesmerized connoisseurs
Deepens the dense dance still further by generating
romantic proposition in her gestures
Unstoppable time hypnotized to stop for a moment to
stand and see how infinity can dance
Time itself in much ado on the long neck of
reddening movement
Aye, you dancing fire spreading your oranges everywhere
from Andalusia to Madrid
And then all over the globe amazing you me and all
in modern style of elegant gestures
Sliding the shoulder blades down the back and thus
the chest held proudly
Inviting inquisitive attention to read the poems
up to the chin and down the tall back
Closing the eye for a few seconds we see in awe our fertile
dear earth in a dance of rebellion
The earthy and raw in a fascinating gesture of life
we do need to feel so much
That while in the midst of viewing what you interpret
we too get merged in the dancing colour
Aha! What a phenomenon
____________________________________________________
September 23, 2017
For the contest:Poems that paint a picture 3
Hosted by: Silent One
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Water flowing down a river passing over rocks and earth
Slowly gliding to the ocean from the reservoir of birth
Water’s Birth is at the peak and Water’s death is at the bottom
Moving in and out of trouble, downhill pattern of a slalom
Outside forces, changing states, Constant friction, changing forms
Calling to a higher purpose, raining down above from storms
Feed the planet, work as one, move together, just survive
Advancement is the common goal that keeps the hopes and dreams alive
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Reach the peak, you never can, the peak is far away from man
Birth, so warm, Death so cold, running from that icy hold
Feel the tide and current strongly, never flowing off the path
Mother Nature’s happiest when water executes her wrath
Rivers, lakes, and streams all uniting and connected
Looking from the outside everything that’s done is just reflected
Pure and clear, until it’s tainted, untouched canvas, never painted
Heading to an end, depending on direction, ending up united, one collaborative collection
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Forks and splits that force decisions sooner than they wish to choose
Splitting up the current from who will win and who will lose
The ending is the same, but the journey is what matters
Filling up the empty space is where the water gathers
Ever inching towards the finish to be united once again
Circulating through a void that always comes back to the end
The end is never permanent, there always is a second chance
To make it’s way unto the earth and show the world it’s timeless dance
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
September 7 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Ezekiel 25-27
Key Verse – Ezekiel 25:11 And I will execute judgments upon Moab; and they shall know that I am the LORD.
FAITH IN GOD WHO EXECUTES JUDGMENTS WITH HIS TRUTH
God executes judgements with His truth’s authority
While increasing our faith midst Scriptural finality
By His omnipotence along His immutability
Against attacking uncertainty.
God executes judgements with His truth’s trustworthiness
While upholding our faith midst salvation-steadfastness
By His promises along His graciousness
Against lurking deceitfulness.
God executes judgements with His truth’s guidance
While girding our faith midst redemption-assurance
By His faithfulness along His performance
Against devastating arrogance.
God executes judgements with His truth’s Word
While securing our faith midst Spirit’s sword
By His precepts along His principles’ accord
Against confusing discord.
God executes judgements with His truth’s sanctification
While purifying our faith midst our transformation
By His righteousness along His holiness-action
Against devastating indignation.
God executes judgements with His truth’s empowerment
While enabling our faith midst servanthood-fulfillment
By His might along His ready enablement
Against weakening commitment.
God executes judgements with His truth’s reign
While guarding our faith midst stewardship-gain
By His standards along His discipleship’s terrain
Against disgusting slothfulness’ strain.
September 7, 2025
(An Addingham Poem)
With the strength of
gentleness, sparrows make love
upon the windowsill,
frigid glass pane pulsates
within the pageant of nature,
numerous battle scared plumage
float wanting, towards earthly cracks
that conceals another world, where
rain and sleet beat down a
forest of subversive weeds,
if only to perjure
hope and fortitude.
The wind! Screams imperfections,
orchestrates the misery of the
telegraph wire, summons
the hardy, those across the
sawmill dam, there where the
village sons live on, as faceless
images upon the park epitaph.
The moon abandons the paperboy
hides behind a turbulent haze,
the greyness segregating
the dawn from the night,
as a hundred kettles sing
behind dimly lit backyard windows,
and a hundred harmonies
perfume, the bowel of the tippler.
Row upon row of decrepit
doorsteps host resident jugs, those
that waits in anticipation of the ladle,
whose wholesome contents still
encompass the warmth of the beast.
Through the mist, a stony siren
executes the industrial anthem,
a musical excursion into pain
and manipulation, a weaving shed
that creates a spinneret
of dreams, a threshold to one’s hopes.
“Yet! Given nothing more, than a
wry sense of insecurity.”
© Harry J Horsman 1999
From the city of lights, to many souls depart.
Evil entered their lives, pierced their innocent heart.
Left many to weep.
Along abandon streets flooded by soldier's boots,
searching for death that lingers and executes.
Shall we rise or sleep?
Will silent fear become a coat we come to wear?
Will our hearts grow strong, into evil's eyes we'll stare?
To light the city,
and feel yearning hearts beating for freedom's bright cause.
To lift our souls from ashes of death, just because,
Yes!We rise to fight.
contest...Tail Rhyme For France
11/23/15
The provocation was unfounded
Yet Roy couldn't understand why
His beloved decided to slap him
Roy for the first time in his life
Has just received a slap from a she
Seething he hides the lion barely
Leaves with grace seething with rage
Satient for now his knowledge is complete
He has just bee vindicated and he knows it
Earlier that morning Roy was shedding tears
Scouts don't joke with lions.. Roy vindicated
ROY.. Is fully armed now he wields the shield
Defender turning villain he can taste his anger
A defining moment he turns and executes
Executes the forbidden military move - wields
The lion is armed with- 'ngungi'
On his back the forbidden shield
The eagles tail at a distance
Its a near blood bath
At the last moment roy executed the reversal
Executes the reverse move stopping the force
With his own body... the 'ngungi' is contained
Roy now wield's the powerful shield
IME wields the katana glint of silver
Defender you just passed the test
To wield the most powerful shield
In the defense of your people...
The bottled fury - anger
Dont joke with lions - advice
Boy scout honour.. prvt Srek
Private command centre.. PMC
CODE 254
PRIVATE - Nyaga
Thoome wairegi
KINGS COUNSEL
Chihuahua Football At The Rose Hill Stadium
Watching football at home with my little dogs on a cold winter night, I realize that I coach my
own football team.
Running deep far into the football field at the Rose Hill Stadium (Which is my vegetable-dyed
Persian rug that I bought at an estate sale to cover my hardwoods.) is Piglet, a young and
highly spirited white short-hair Chihuahua, who happens to also be a neutered male, ripped
with lots of muscles and little body fat. Piglet leaps up high and is able to catch in mid-air
the fluffy white piece of parmesan cheese covered popcorn with his cute little white teeth.
(That I just brushed with chicken flavored toothpaste after his bath)
Tessie, the long-haired, black and white female Chihuahua, who is not so lean, executes
most of her plays as the defensive tackle position. She often blocks Piglet from catching his
popcorn and also profits from his fumbles, by intercepting his popcorn and eating it before
she is able to execute a perfect touchdown. (Haven’t managed to teach her to delay eating
her popcorn yet)
Each year they get better and better, next year they might be ready to take their show on
the road. Until then, they have until the Super Bowl to practice their four footed maneuvers
and tricks. At best, they could make it to Letterman's Stupid Pet Tricks some day soon.
(No harm was done to animals in preparation of writing this poem or playing Chihuahua
Football)
*Image of Education by UY.
A Cog in The Machine
Life advances their kind of entrusting stays,
origin of roots possessing foundation,
flung to care sprouts variable promises,
~~executes each seed.
The great void advents the id of emptiness;
launched needs, yet farfetched and demanding the task,
contending the fathom fact of dimensions,
~~inception account.
Countless bearings operate the mechanism,
instants cognitive effortless life makers,
quintessential beats absence into the void,
~~marked units of time.
Simplistic explanative of a machine,
the inner workings of every component,
jointly toiling as a singularity,
~~a fitting duty.
A pristine canvas lengthens on a tripod,
while a sable paintbrush jabs an empty point,
visionist Seurat and Signac rethink art,
~~Pointillist purview.
A concert hall seasons an orchestra pit,
woodwinds, brass, percussion, strings, keyboards, chorale,
symphonic blends as a meek piccolo peal,
~~a highest-pitched tune.
The world is our stage where we fulfill our roles,
all taking part in a scene that is rehearsed,
a constant performance since opening night,
~~functioning beings.
Inconsequential entity's conjuring
queries who's who, what's what drives absoluteness,
amassed strays, exacts focus o'er all, for I ...
~~... am the unique one.
2022 May 17
*1st Place*
Pick-A-Title, Vol 30
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 May 29
*Title #3
HMS; 11,11,11,5 syllables x 32 lines = 8 sapphic stanzas