Best Fleshes Poems
Writers of the dark
Sisters they are three
Tales of darkened horror
To scare the light from thee
Vampires of the night
Haunting the living souls
To lure them from their light
As there intention slowly unfolds
Gray mist begins to rise
Around their eerie crypts
Three maidens from the night
White laced, fleshes ripped
Vampiring ghouls
In scarlet greed
Napes and neck
Frenzied feed
Fuelled of blood
As the dawn matures
Their nightly feast
From their hypnotic lures
The sun rises
On the living morn
As the vampiric three
Retire to death norm
Stay in at night
Lock your doors
The Sisters three
The De La Keurs
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy2.php
I Committed Suicide
I stretched out weary hands.
Melisa, who considered me
like a big brother, quickly ran away from me.
My heart writhed unto me;
I longed for a swig of water.
Noise danced, rumbled inside me in thunder.
But the whirlwind heard
the swoosh of the knife as my eyes blushed.
But why didn’t I die instead?
I placed the knife back
in my rusty pocket.
I recalled she told me,
“No, don’t kill yourself.”
“Stress is like chess;
either you play it, or it plays you.”
Vinegar boiled my blood,
though my bones
were hit by the daily rocks I ate.
My suicidal act was lured with its bait.
But why didn’t I die instead?
Swarms of flies consumed the skin of my throat.
My fleshes were allotted to stresses atop a fire.
My fur was tumbleweed and chaff before the wind blew.
My mouth became a thirsty land.
I turned blue. I cried sandy tears.
My ivory screams were smokes.
But why didn’t I die instead?
“Christo,” I heard as I reconsidered.
“Melisa bloodily committed suicide,”
an old man vociferated.
I fell to my knees.
The blood in my head was a rolling sea.
Reconsideration ebbed away.
I was a zebra running away from a lion’s teeth,
but in the lake, caught by the crocodile’s jaws of death.
My muscles fainted in decay.
My soul ran away from a fowler’s snare.
Wails went higher than an eagle’s wings.
But why didn’t I die instead?
An earthen gray memorial stands alone against
A rugged desert landscape, built by the mortal
Hands of the faithful.
No bells do ring, in the churches steeple, but in the
Heart of Texas it's sounding message can never
Be silenced, remember the Alamo.
For the fighting men of valor's honors sacrificed,
All for liberation's call to freedom.
Listen to their whispering voices, traveling
Across the tangle weed dunes, and harken unto
Them, never to surrender even after death, do
They fight for country, hearth, and home.
These pioneer men whom built this nation's
Backbone, carved it out, with steeled bowie knife
Sharpened edge, and musket balls powder's flash.
Gathered here, for one last hurrah’s gallant stand off,
To the victor's gaining everlasting immortality.
Gallantry’s brave, shed their dearest blood, sacrificing
Giving everything they had, including life itself.
Cannon thunder bolts roar, as lightening rods raw force
Striking against mortars harden walls, yet the
Spirits of bravery strong, did not yield, or raise
The white shield of surrender.
Keep thy black powder dry, lift your rifles high,
But don't fire men, until you see the whites of
Your enemies eyes.
Under the hailing of gunfire’s smoke, did hells
Storm rage, both sides dying for their country's
Beliefs right or wrong.
Death's battlefield littered with fragments deceased,
A graveyard left unattended, wars unfortunate
Fallen, became salvation’s tribute to behold, in the distance
A tattered flag, still waves in the winds of freedom.
Bricks of defense, shattered as if made of glass,
Debris spewing outwards, towards martyred legacy's
Champions, killing many before they hit the ground,
Receiving remains of the valiant dead.
Oh in the heaven's trumpets did herald, these
Courageous souls, welcoming honored soldiers, home wards
Unto God's boundless country, for these explorers
To discover the horizon's endless divides beyond.
Prisoners living, taken by horse and rider were forced
To bow, beneath a foreign banners alien flag.
Yet even than their American hearts didn't waiver,
Until the swords steel severed life, from the fleshes beating
Drumming from within.
But the last warrior yelled a rebels battle cry,
And as he fell with his last dying breath,
Yelled out,
Remember the Alamo!!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
A streaming particle of matter flowing in the
Mystical elemental current of my own existence,
Untethered I’ve cut the silvery threads of the
Timeless, a creature of thoughts abandonment.
A unique butterfly of distinction, flying amongst
The light waves of illusion spreading my wings
Of clarity, touching the stars in gentle graces
Movement.
In flights liberation climbing levels of enchantment,
A swaying anomaly tossed, passed between earth
And sky, a castaways silhouette lingering afloat the
Breeze of sensuality, with the heightened senses
Of pleasure ultimate recklessness, I’m at liberties
Jurisdiction beyond the touch of man.
I’ve joined the flocks of the enlightened ones,
Moths drawn to the dreaming flame, that burns
With fuel of inspirational grace.
Rippling wings transcending, behold the marvel
Of lunar beings, evolving, rising beyond the
Embankment of physical resistance,
Translucent fluttering monarchs brushing
Against the gates of God’s kingdom on high.
Flying insects of humanity, buzzing in a whispering
Chorus ushering in lyrical verses praise,
Announcing the arrival of these ascended.
Reaching through the vaulted grates of heaven,
The lord’s angel reaches out to touch these mortal
Wings of inspiration, and harken to listen, as
The Soft music loaf’s upwards, flooding the floors
Of this golden divide.
At twilights intrinsic hour of contemplation these
Dreaming beings of enlightenment drift as floating
Confetti ever lightly descending, cascading into
Their mortal fleshes vessels beneath, leaving the
Realm behind, but oh what visions of inspiration
Have these butterflies of remembrance relate,
In poetic excellence, cannot be captured
Within the nets of mankind.
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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
Slain lies the heart of innocence, a vanquished warrior
Of passions flame, melted is his shield of honor, this
Gladiator whom sacrifices all for pleasures desire.
Cutting deeply, do the knives of betrayal, leaving raw
Wounds exposed to the chilling air, of sorrows fallen
Hero, whom elups forth crimson tears of emotional
Regrets, in this arana of the broken hearted lovers.
Steels weapon of faith, melts in the weakened
Hand, as strenetith medusa turns upon him, shifting
Him unto the stone heart of loves lost soul, leaving
Behind a monument of gray.
The concurred romantic ceases, the last true bard
Writes no more, this lytrical man journies through
The valley’s of the shadowed heart, clinging upon
The light of hope, yet unarmoured this soldier
Battles blindly in the dark.
Maidens fall before him, kneeling, yielding,
Their inner being unto him, but the reddest
Rose petals possed before him turn blackish,
Unto his memory of faded elegance.
The wind still whispers her name in the
Darkness, the stilled frangrace lingers upon
The breeze, the softness of her fleshes coreses
Lies beyond his warmth finger tips.
But one another worthy shield maiden will
Revive this fallen foe, and no force in heaven
Or in hell shall separate these beating souls.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
THE CLOWN
The entire world loves a clown,
But wait until they get a load of me,
Is what the faceless figure under the mask
Says, heckling with laughter's haunting zeal.
After the lights of the midway fade, and the
Crowd's confetti is swept away, it is my turn
To play!
Sedition's malevolent being, lies hidden beneath
A painted on smile, I'm the devil incarnate,
So come along child of innocence, and we'll
Have a bloody, ghouling good time, just you
And I!
Many props of fun time’s torture, do I possess,
Chose which of these that you think is the best,
I'm not picky in the least, my new playmate.
Beneath the crimson big top, of fleshes canvas,
I'll put on a special show just for thee,
So save your screaming applause, until
After I'm finished if you so please!
All whom wish to join in my private
Carnival of fiendish delight, I welcome
Wholeheartedly, come young or old,
But beware none shall leave alive,
Or without missing a limb, maybe two.
Here comes my brethren in their tiny
Little hearse, did you think I'd not
Invite my kindred on such a special
Event like this.
Nay they've brought their own weapons,
Hatchets, machetes, and wonderful
Instruments as such, why do you look
So frightened, it won't hurt ####, that much.
Now some may say I'm a creature of
Darkness, an evil being without remorse.
But really under white face's make-up,
I'm just your average serial killer at heart.
Whom is quit creative, in the forgotten dark arts,
Of tortures insidious behavior.
So next time the circus comes to your small
Town remember, just hang around after the
Crowds leave the midway, don't worry
My friend, for I'll be hanging around just
Waiting for you, no special invite needed.
Signed sincerely, your friend the clown.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Ganapati is a son of one of the Trinity God Shiv & Parvati.
Parvati created him out her power, placed him at entrance
To keep vigil, allow none as she wanted to go for a bath.
Shiv, her husband came and was stopped by Ganapati.
Shiv got angry and cut off his head, as being an outsider.
Parvati grieved too much for the loss of her own creation.
Shiv ordered servants to bring head of any animal asleep
Elephant ‘head brought, Shiv placed it on Ganapati’s body.
Thus Ganapati is having the trunk- head of an elephant.
She was still not happy and wanted more boon for her son.
Then Shiv granted an additional boon to please Parvati.
People will worship him before beginning new undertaking
Obstacles if any will be removed for all the true devotees.
Five faced Ganapati relates to embodiment of all potencies
They symbolize the five fleshes in the subtle anatomy felt.
The flesh body, the breath or energy body, mental body
Body of upper consciousness and body of Cosmic bliss.
The fifth body being the highest level of Yogic experience.
Thus the five days of celebration is for that five potencies
First day-atonement, amends of misdeeds like Thanksgiving.
Create vibration of love & harmony among family members.
Second day among neighbors, relatives and close friends
Create harmony among business associates on the 3rd day
For arts, culture, music, dance and religion on the 4th day
On last day experience love, tranquility from God Himself.
===============================================
*Ganapati is a compound noun in Sanskrit language. Gana means semi-divine gods
and Pati means the master. There is a myth about Ganapati, with the head of
elephant.
Panchmukhi Ganapati= Five faced Indian God Ganapati. Panch means five and
Mukhi means mouth.
Hindu/ Pancha Ganapati..Honoring Ganesha celebrated in December
===============================================
5th place win
Contest: Winter's Holi Days by Deborah Guzzi.
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
A streaming particle of matter flowing in the
Mystical elemental current of my own existence,
Untethered I’ve cut the silvery threads of the
Timeless, a creature of thoughts abandonment.
A unique butterfly of distinction, flying amongst
The light waves of illusion spreading my wings
Of clarity, touching the stars in gentle graces
Movement.
In flights liberation climbing levels of enchantment,
A swaying anomaly tossed, passed between earth
And sky, a castaways silhouette lingering afloat the
Breeze of sensuality, with the heightened senses
Of pleasure ultimate recklessness, I’m at liberties
Jurisdiction beyond the touch of man.
I’ve joined the flocks of the enlightened ones,
Moths drawn to the dreaming flame, that burns
With fuel of inspirational grace.
Rippling wings transcending, behold the marvel
Of lunar beings, evolving, rising beyond the
Embankment of physical resistance,
Translucent fluttering monarchs brushing
Against the gates of God’s kingdom on high.
Flying insects of humanity, buzzing in a whispering
Chorus ushering in lyrical verses praise,
Announcing the arrival of these ascended.
Reaching through the vaulted grates of heaven,
The lord’s angel reaches out to touch these mortal
Wings of inspiration, and harken to listen, as
The Soft music loaf’s upwards, flooding the floors
Of this golden divide.
At twilights intrinsic hour of contemplation these
Dreaming beings of enlightenment drift as floating
Confetti ever lightly descending, cascading into
Their mortal fleshes vessels beneath, leaving the
Realm behind, but oh what visions of inspiration
Have these butterflies of remembrance relate,
In poetic excellence, cannot be captured
Within the nets of mankind.
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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
The Colosseum, welcome young gladiator,
To the arena of death, sharpen thy sword, and raise
Your shield high, bow to the emperor, known as
Caesar.
Listen to the mighty roar of the crowd surrounding
You, is it not a deafening sound, seemingly, by it's sheer
Force alone, causing the earth to shake around thee.
Behold you've been chosen to compete, in this the
Cathedral of crushed bones and mangled flesh.
Here where victory's foe, may drown beneath a
River of red crimson, from his own brethren kindred.
A marble lain thunder dome, to quench humanities
Insatiable lust, for blood's sport, torture and mayhem.
The deadly game meant to appease, the crowd,
And high born bred royal, and nobility.
Behold the grand delusion put on full display,
As the Christian Martyr, falls upon his crucifix
Of faith, embracing salvation, to cultivate
A new religion, yielded by the mortal
Fleshes sacrifice.
Dine well king of beasts, smiling with a cattish,
Grin, of sheer delight, licking his paws after
The feast set before him, is done with it's screaming.
Trumpets sounding horns, announce the next act,
To step forward upon this stage of twisted reality.
Be bold youthful Gladiator, for experiences sword
Arm faces opposite of thee, waiting for the signal
To be given from above.
Clashing titan's of survival, warriors with weapons
Drawn, leaving no quarters for retreat, mercy's resolve,
Lies only at the sharpened edges blade point.
It is to the triumphant, goes victory's spoils,
He whom receives, the thumbs downwards sign, lives.
A heroic image, limping and bloody, half falling
To his knees, to bow unto the majesty and might
Of Rome itself.
Achieving the greatest prize of all, to live
And see another days dawning,
And fight another battle,
Within this ancient mausoleum of doom.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Of the distance,
beauty appeared at peace, calmly resting.
Proximity grew closer to this human figurine;
lengthy legs painted in ocean blue jeans.
The thesis statement to male's eyes in dreams.
But those legs...
Those legs were the topic of my eyes
Pupils conversing in-between her inner thighs
The rhetorical tongue eager to submit beneath sun rise
Thickened bridled muscle strengthens to rise
I mean d*** Oh me! Oh myy!
Oooo wee such a beautiful sexy queen.
Envisioning,
If at current, her faucet is running. ..
Slow-ly d
r
I
p
p
I
n
g or simply leak-ing
So the fleshes hydration can be full-filling.
Muscles within muscles while warm liquid falling?
Can we start engaging?
Lips connect; gently kissing... (Pause)
But the guiltiness in the minds eye began interrupting
Spirit intervening
Muscles deflating
Suddenly, no tempting to the extent of no lusting
Corrective vision restoring
Walking through the escape door from fornicating...whew!
As the moon tiptoes in
Eyes close and knees bend
The darkened closet within
Praying to overcome this certain sin
That I indeed struggle in
And that I may be born again
This I pray, from day to day...Amen
INK-U-SCRIPT
06-04-2014
Off the cape of good hope,
On dead-man’s rocky reef,
A legend from old was born.
Behold The Flying Dutchman,
Phantom’s driven ghost ship.
Seeking infinities isle beyond,
Mortal fleshes reach.
The captains wheel sets a
Study coarse full ahead.
Treachery’s boney skeleton walkers,
Follow his orders without question.
It is the devils own hand picked,
A madman’s crew,
Hell bound disciples riding,
Currents restless waves towards,
Destiny's unknown passages.
The grim reapers soul seekers,
Beware all at sea if you witness,
The Dutchman’s murky birthing.
From depths fathoms below,
Tarred torn canvas sails unfurl,
Upon broken masts covered,
By seaweeds greenish slime.
Under heavy pressures crushing
Weight,
A chilling graveyard of wreckage's,
Carnage exists,
An isolation forgotten realm.
A tidal avalanche, aquatic blues,
Perfect storm envelopes,
Everything in it's destructive path.
Dragging anchors chains behind,
Death's black vessel brakes,
The surfaces tension.
Cutting through the rough waves
At eases pace.
Readily welcoming those lost aboard,
Then she'll dive towards deep waters,
Farthest edge.
Behold The Flying Dutchman’s,
Legend lives forever on.
In nightmares screaming twilight hour,
Another soul becomes enchained.
And a skeleton walker joins,
The devils own.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
In flash points crackling moment of the exhausted,
Ecstasy’s burnt embers explode, colliding in
Raptures afterglow of passions flaming heart.
Castaway's silhouettes blaze, against a heated back drop,
Of sensuality sizzling, at a boiling temperature left
Uncontrolled, the union ignition switch burns red hot.
Restrains shackles are sheared tatters of materialistic
Fibers, remnants clothing tossed asunder,
To abandons shame.
Beguiling eyes of desires enamored, seek the
Erotic pleasures hidden beneath the nights shroud
Of mysteries secret realm, shared by these lunar
Disciples of lusts forbidden.
Nay let the sun rays be forever banished from the
Heaven’s themselves, torn apart singing the very stars,
Causing them to fall, as diamond shards unto the earth
Below.
Let the wrath of the god’s shake the world by it’s
Fragile edges, for revenges sake of malice’s intent,
For the sinful deeds done between these outcasts
Of loves intrigue.
Raw is kindling’s fuel, flesh to the bone,
Pleasure to the pain, raining ashes of desire
Thus do we burn, fire to the ice factor,
I’m a melting burg, turning to steam within
His embrace of thermal nuclear heat.
The weeping angels of salvation fallen serenade us,
Lifting our souls beyond the mortal fleshes returning
Point, we are the lost, drifting within each other,
The vowed dammed, secret lovers of silences hushed.
Abandonment’s servants left without prayers mercy,
Kneeling at the altar of the passion’s hearth,
Until the flames embers burn out,
And ashes Yule log has no more fuel to ignite.
But oh in memories we’ll relive that night,
Until the universe plunges into the black hole
Of the timeless infinite itself.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
My Stars were my pride
I was always ready for the ride
Hoisted in the clear sky
I flew freely and high!
But now, I lay in unwanted ashes
Burnt by many, those bodily fleshes
Alas, all my stars now feel like scars!
Alas, all my stars now feel like scars!