Best Fierceness Poems


Premium Member Never Shame a Woman

Never ever shame a woman
for the fire in her soul
still your fear that you're unable
to give that which makes her whole

Never ever shame a woman
for the fierceness of her love
when she wants to subjugate you
she's an eagle, not your dove

Never ever shame a woman
for her raging burning need
to take in that which inflames her
bond and let her soul be freed

Never ever shame a woman
for insatiable desire
use your all to give and please her
be a man and stoke her fire

Never ever shame a woman
for her sensual appetite
primal cravings that possess her
give her reign at day or night

Never ever shame a woman
when she moans in ecstasy
do not force her into silence
let her voice her fantasy

Never ever shame a woman
for her wanton sultry way
thank the heavens that she's able
to bring passion into play

Never ever shame a woman
for the pleasure that she craves
be a man and strive to sate her
for this act her honor saves

Eileen Manassian

Requiem

Call me not a child,
Treat me with adult words,
Eyes that scan the essence,
And see the centuries I have lived.
Ancient soul though young flesh, 
Half my heart remains in an older existence. 

I wish to feel the gentle,
The tenderness that comes with love,
Finger tips soft and feather like.
I yearn to feel the rough,
The firm grip of a lover,
Hands grasping hips in a fury of need.
Lips rubbing together in absence of a kiss. 

I need to speak of higher things,
realms that others fear to not believe,
And visions that we both have seen. 
Lie with me in clover beds,
Stars sparkling bright above our heads,
Birds swooping to deliver prey to young,
Eyes filled with awe at the world's cruel beauty. 

Lie with me in open thought,
Minds roaming over hills and sea,
Connecting to the world.
Releasing raw unadulterated energy,
Through just a simple touch,
Conscious spreading to the sky,
To flit like hummingbirds.

Call me not a child, 
For the things I have seen,
The memories I hold within,
Through one life to the next.
Falling, falling, down to the sea,
Bright sky, rolling green, 
sharp waves black, crash against the rocks,
Awaiting our meeting of fatality. 

Flowers high in weeds,
Grow up to itchy gowns,
And crunch beneath slipper-ed feet.
Corsets pulled tight,
Tight enough that I forget to breathe,
When in the presence of a man.
Blame the corset for my lack of breathe,
Though he steal it from my honeyed lips,
With not even a brushing kiss.
And a wedding band surprised,
Beneath a weeping willow,
With barely family enough to witness the event.

Four wheeled Slow rolling machine,
In comparison to today's technologies,
To ride a get away in sun lit heat. 
Black with shinning seats and room for four,
Or even five if they would squeeze. 
Two women, a daughter and a son, 
A life of running, identity hidden, 
Bolstered weapons for protection,
And an unending flow of cash.
Life seemed easy - at least when not being shot at.  

So call me not a child, 
For I have seen many years,
Felt the touch of lovers hands,
The cool of friends tears,
Felt the crashing waves,
As another life came to an end,
Spoke of many things,
And made otherworldly friends. 
Kiss my lips with fierceness, 
When I have yet again died,
I fear not the otherworldly,
So tell them not to cry.

Premium Member Winter's Slumber

Winter's Slumber Contest
Regina McIntosh

Winter's slumber has me in cozy places, warm and comforted
I am grateful for the wood fire that burns, many blankets I have
So many things to help me get through the bitter cold
The wind that howls through the woods and all the piles of snow
It is the season to hunker down, giving time to reflect on past events
To plan positive things for the days ahead, to process methodically
A time to be grateful for new things and old creative talents 
Still, the sun shines on many cold days, rising with endurance
As it creates sparkling stars in the pure, white, snow
Showing beauty bypasses the battles of the cold weather
I awaken from slumber on these stark,  beautiful, days
Birds come to the feeder, as I watch the show through frosty windows
A colorful picture filled with songs, alert my senses to see and hear
It is a time to cherish the shelter of this safe home
To appreciate all there is when the world is cold outside
A time for rest, a time for relaxation, a time to enhance intuition
It is a contrast of kindness and bitterness, calmness and fierceness
The power of patience, granted by the bulbs, waiting to bloom in spring

12/26/23


Tin Can Sailors

The mighty 3rd to the north did steam,
Chasing a ghost not to be seen

Guard the landing your task assigned,
Quiet the day is to be benign

At dawn the Imperial fleet does appear,
Surprise complete, ranging fire splashes near

Outnumbered and out gunned, duty is clear,
Close the range you must in spite of your fear

Laying smoke, a jagged course you take,
An account of yourselves you will make

Steel your heart and make sure your eye,
For each salvo keeps you alive

Toe-to-toe the battle, you exchange mighty blows,
Triumph impossible, yet into the fray you all go

In perfect rhythm, the mad dance goes on,
As smoke filled gunhouse loads powder and shot

Decks strewn with the dead and dying, 
Teams repair to keep the ensign flying

Struck and struck again, yet to point blank you steam, 
Hard to port, you cross the “T”

“All guns to fire at the turn, torpedoes away!”
The enemy scatters in disarray

Too late, mortal blows you take
To the deep, no more your enemy to rake

One final salute their captain does render,
For you fought to the death and did not surrender

On this all men do still agree,
These were the finest two hours of Taffy 3

*****************************************
On October 25th, 1944, 3 destroyers and 4 destroyer escorts of Task Force 
Taffy 3 engaged a combined force of Imperial Japanese Navy battleships and 
cruisers in a 2 hour running gun battle to protect the escort carriers and troop 
transports taking part in the Leyte Gulf landings in the Philippines. Two of the 
three destroyers and one of the escorts were sunk while sinking three 
Japanese heavy cruisers and damaged three more. Due to the fierceness of 
the attack, the Japanese fleet retired from the area thinking they had been 
attacked by a much larger force. At the outset of the battle, the commanding 
officers of these 7 ships, without orders, individually decided to attack and 
headed at flank speed to the fight all knowing they would most likely not 
survive the day. Almost 1600 did not. In a final act of respect, the commander 
of one Japanese cruiser saluted the crew of an American ship that had just 
sunk as his ship passed them floating in the water.

It's All Good!

Loud Screammmms
Huge Smiles
Wind beating me so hard
Then
J
   U
       M
           P
              
    OMGosh!!!

Can you feel anymore alive?!
Wind pushing me upwards
Gravity pulling me down
Total EXHILIRATION!!!

The board strapped to my feet allows me some control
and I zoom through the sky arms outstretched 
Catching clouds instead of waves
       Wind, its' power! 
I scream, I squeal
Reeling from pure joy
Smile plastered on my face
Eyes opened wide

I swirl a loop and it catches my stomach
and I feel like a kid
Every part of my being is in this moment

              I     AM     ALIVE!!!
                    
Balancing on a plank miles above terra firma
Living in the blue sky, wide open freedom
No rules, No boundaries

SPEED

The fierceness of experiencing such a heightened sense
of consciousness, an awareness of every part of your being
                             
                                Being Alive
                                     AND
                        damn glad to be alive
                               It's all good


                  ~written for Ms Moses contest~

Premium Member Genghis Khan

[ credits to LAURENT YVAN from France who read my poem ]



Launched over ages of primaeval forces
my nomadic ancestry calls out to me
winds howl driven over rolling hills
atop a ridge of rugged mountains
beyond vestiges of the long silk road
the Mongolian empire looks back at me
the spirit of the great Genghis Khan
runs feral forever through my veins

Mongolia and its harsh wilderness
its barren lands its haunted past
drumming echoes of summoned spirits
unleash the wrath of heaving heavens
I’m more than hoodlum with a vision
I’m a rebel at the helm of my said destiny 

My brothers and I are born of a lineage
that’s jagged ruthless rich and proud
fierceness and freedom integral to our dna
we’ll defend our land and way of life
with brute strength and sheer intimidation
in spilled blood we write our history
come hell highwater feast or famine
the spirit of the great Genghis Khan
runs feral forever through our veins

We’ll round up the horses
and harness voracious winds
go out protect and safeguard at all cost
wave our swords and in hearts instill fear
cast our thunder over hills and valleys
earn respect for our ancestors’ inherited land
a kingdom conquered piecemeal by our warlord
father to our people and to our nation vast

A deep longing larger than life compels me
to preserve my legacy against betrayal and conspiracy
dark alliances with sights on pillaging and plundering
no more brutal bloodbaths and massacres
neo-medieval Mongol tribes and clans united

The spirit of the great Genghis Khan
feral through my veins forever runs
and that’s the Mongolia that calls on back to me    



Read on air by invitation  ~  May 30, 2020  'LATE NIGHT POETS'

AP: 2nd place 2025, 2nd plance 2022, 3rd place 2020, Front Page Pick 2022

Submitted on May 26, 2020 for contest BRIAN'S CHOICE V sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  RANKED 3RD


Premium Member If Made a Man

If made a man, I’d treat my woman right
By that I mean, I’d hold her through the night

I’d use my arms to shelter fragile form
Her tears I’d kiss and help to calm her storm

I’d listen to each word immersed in fear
And vow to shield her by my presence near

If made a man, I’d show her I was strong
This strength I’d use to never do her wrong

I’d use my words to make her melting start
Released to touch, they would caress each part

I’d look at her with eyes that claimed her fine
With tempered fierceness, show her she is mine

I’d pull and crush her tightly to my chest
Inhale her scent, feel softness of her breast

Undress her while I utter words of love
Assure her she’ll ascend to heights above

I’d claim her mouth, my tongue set to explore
Foretaste of what I’ll do to her and more

Her stately neck I’d graze with hungry lips
My fingers trailing curves of waist and hips

I’ll lose myself in softness of her breasts
Tongue, mouth, and hands employed in lover’s quest

Her navel traced with roving hungry hand
Sent to explore as though revirgined land

Her sighs and moans, my patient hands would heed
On love’s submission would my mouth then feed

Pleased that I’ve set her longing soul to flight
My reigned in passion I’d release with might

I’d smooth her hair until she gains her ground
The voice of love the only living sound

And when she’d turn her eyes to look at me
I’d say, “Again? Or should I let you be?!”

Eileen Manassian Ghali

A Daughter

A daughter~

Believe in the space between us, and in the force that ties us in.

We never have to try for who we are as one.

Like the tide to the moon and the fierceness of

the sun.

I’d wipe your tears from heaven for my hand is already there

I’ll be blind forever,
it will never be the same.

Y
ou changed my view on everything, now all the worlds beauty is in your name

If only I had an island far off in the sea...
And a blaze of fire around you and me

But, I hear the horns out in the distance and the fierceness of the sun

I think your ship is
coming in baby

then, with your finger wrapped around mine, and your little head up on my chest

I wake up from a dream,

there goes little girl,

my baby is 16 ....

Premium Member In Belladonna Berries Love Was Paid

With lies you tried to hide your furtive eyes~
but breadcrumbs left impressions you betrayed,
and finding out the truth behind your guise
did shatter loving life that we portrayed.

Through multi-colored shards of memories;
the fierceness of reflections makes me bleed
from humble heart, life-stealing reveries
now crush me like a centipede stampede.

Your fangs were poisonous a thousand bites,
so nonchalant you stabbed me with your sins.
You buried me in shallow grave of smites,
alone, ascetic life for me begins.

My appetite in apathy, man-made;
in belladonna berries love was paid.


Susan Ashley 
January 28, 2018


~ Second Place ~
Contest: English Sonnet Lost Love
Sponsor: John Hamilton

*Required words: Furtive, Nonchalant, Humble, Shallow, Ascetic*

Premium Member To Whom Does This Come

What’s left behind is the fragrance of the lilac 
Crushed between forlorn fingers
Petals held in contorted hands 
Once lust rendered dust the terrain shall cover
Fierceness is abandoned forgiveness is given
To whom does this come, whom shall it deem
As father time allots and consumes
Pro tem I am, pro tem I am
an irrepressibly creative force
Manifesting myself 
by channeling a myriad of diverse 
and inexplicably bold personas 
struggling to leave resonance in my wake

 to whom does this come
  this legacy that lives on~
     is what I shall be
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

The Dying Light

I am the dying light in the sky,
That makes you wonder if you are real,
Or if i am all that is left of your existence.
And you my darling, are the same to me,
But in this lonely darkness,
I glow and wonder if I exist,
Or if you are all that keeps my light burning.
I breathe happieness from your laughter,
My light comes from the radience of your skin,
I steal my fire from your lips,
And when I feel myself burning out,
I gaze down upon your joy,
And it reignites my essence.
You long to touch me, to hold me,
And wonder if I can make you feel alive,
If I can fill you with heaven.
You do not know that when your fingers,
Sweep across my skyline,
You are filling me instead.
You never believed I could love you, 
With all the fierceness of dragons now dead,
You never believed that anyone could love you as I have,
As I have and always will.
I fill your being as you so too fill mine,
And this lonely existence does not seem so sad.
I thrive off of your energy and strength,
My happiness grows from your smile,
My fire burns brighter for you, 
And you do not know that you feed my soul.
I will love you till the last star has died,
And the sun is nothing but burning embers,
Ready to be a whisp of smoke,
And I am all thats left in the universe,
To fill you with wonder.
I will love you when your old bones,
Wither and turn to dust,
And ash is all thats left of the mountains,
And cracked clay all thats left of the rivers,
And a Graveyard lies where there was once an ocean.
I will love you beyond that,
And lie in the cosmic circles,
Dreaming of your warm skin,
And how it filled me for eons.
I will love you so much that-
I will search the universe for your atoms,
So I can piece you back together again,
And we can create the art of making love.
You never believed that someone could love you like that,
But you are the light in the world,
That makes me know that I exist,
That I am not just dying embers,
Without you in my arms,
I might never have known I could breathe.

Premium Member An Autumn Walk

come . . .  take my hand and we will walk
deep into a Canadian autumn woodland
where it is crisp and cool-  vast and full
the woodland is quiet in the veil of morning fog
          and we are wrapped in   
infinite shades and hues of changing brushstrokes
     of gold, red, orange and green_

but soon, we are lost in an ocean of different trees
and the drum of time has ceased for us -  as
we are witnesses to nature's decay
           in autumnal equinox . . . .
and stained- glass leaves fall around us
crackling, and crunching under our feet
for the forest floor is carpeted with the fallen 
October orange and red turned rust colored
            can you feel it_

  can you hear the rustling squirrels and small creatures ?
     oh, the wildflowers have wilted!
              (but still birds sing)

all around is a wondrous earthiness
full of a cornucopia of scents . . . . just inhale the air
the stream still flows with a loud fierceness
but we know winter will . . . still her screams

     shall we gather some finger-painted leaves?
     so we can press them into our books _ 
______________________________
October 21, 2020


Poetry/Free Verse/an autumn walk
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1296-822-21
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France


Written for the contest, Still Life Autumn
sponsor, Eve Roper

First Place

Premium Member A Rainbow Catfish

a rainbow catfish
jumps clean out of the water
showing her fierceness

Premium Member So Long

She helped him lift his case out of the boot
a veil of sadness crept across her face,
her arms wrapped round his waist, he followed suit
a lingering kiss topped off their long embrace.
Reluctantly she came down from tiptoe,
her fake smile betrayed by honest eyes,
his one step back signalled it's time to go,
the nod she gave the simplest of replies.
Their parting haunted me all through the day,
her sorrow mixed with an intense desire
the fierceness in them as they hugged that way
for this was more than love, this was like fire.
Something occurred to me since there I sat 
I think I can remember love like that

(* Note- The boot of a car in England is known as the 'Trunk' in other countries)
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

The House Survived the Storm

THE HOUSE SURVIVED THE STORM

The storm was bearing down on them, the warnings had gone out;
They knew the devastation would be widespread without doubt.
They knew their home was threatened as its fierceness did increase,
And once it did its damage, there’d be no standing piece.
But Father was not worried about its passing route;
Instead he told his children, “Just get the Bible out.”
And so they got the Bible and called upon God’s name;
They read its precious pages, its promises they claimed.
It promised them God’s safety when storms around did blow,
It promised them protection if to Him they would go.
They lifted up its pages to God in heaven above
And showed Him all the promises and trusted in His love.
The storm grew quickly nearer, and then it quickly veered
Destroying all around it, but leaving their house here.
When all the storm was over, they opened their house wide
To be a clean, warm refuge for others there inside.
They used it for a center where treatment was passed out
To others who had suffered and now would do without.
To this day they believe that God spared their precious home
Because He knew they’d share it with those then left alone.
And they feel that He spared it without a single doubt
Because their father told them, “Just get the Bible out.”
Although the years are many since that devastating morn,
They’ll ne’er forget that day that the house survived the storm.

	Based on a true story my father’s family told him about a storm they survived.

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