Best Gorging Poems
You Are Not Invited
--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will win--
----
Silently she swarms in like a leech,
Feeding and sucking from the wounds my pain left behind.
She came inside: "Uninvited!"
Here have a drink, and die!
Taste the water drips that sail across my lips
Plodding vigorously in the open air of her unwanted hostility
Forbidden as one, I noticed her aura a sickening light
Imprisonment that haunted smoke around her own imperfections
The hate and envy, she lives in resides airborne
The sound that she have summoned up hunger
Brought me near the edge of everything
Feel my pain, a touch of impurities
Tainted, infected, poisoned passion, her face disguised
Surrender toward serenity, the lighthearted woman I am inside
She will never take, my full eternal grace
It’s time to reveal that blazing fire I hide
Drown her from the false flown sorrows of gust
Hold her hideous head under water--- burn her false fire out
Never will I turn my back and watch her muster them broken lids
Lungful of lies poisons the wind that flows from her snake like voice
Maneuvering the skies, scheming that snatch in
Like a viper twisting its unmatched curves,
I strike, like a pyromaniac --A burning match
Allowing her to taste a part of the air I breathe
A waste in the breeze her insecurities
Trying to destroy what she can't be, what she can't see
At the end, blustery weather will remind her of the sea inside me,
YOU! The Angel, who crawls around like a shadow
Gorging its way into the heart with a charm of greed
Twisting reality hoping nobody sees its true sick identity
Slandering my name as the master of evil and manipulative
Marking my territory, warning others of a cold draft
Grasping the beauty that glows from my soul
There it stood on the ledge UNINVITED
The devil walked and took my shoes
:)
Here are butterflies that skip
Dull steps of metamorphosis
No isolation in coocoons
No gorging grubs like fat balloons
Pure genesis on snow kissed flowers
Comes with no imperiled hours
Their slow, eternal life begun
Beneath a pink pearlescent sun
Reflecting tints from rainbows born
With pastel lights of endless dawn
Transcend through fabled time and myth
To form the rings of Saturn's mist.
A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies
Contest Judged: 5/18/2016 5:58:00 AM
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
N/A’d
Be proud of your scars
oh daughter mine
now a mother of children dear
Remember the time
they suckled your breast
gorging on the food of love
Worried lines on your face
anxious frown on your brow
a love story you cannot erase.
Oh daughter mine be proud of your scars.
Pendulos breasts wear with pride
your babies now full-grown and wise.
Stretch marks remain to tell
that you carried your babies well.
Oh daughter mine be proud of your scars.
A badge of honor
that's what they are.
Thickened waist and cellulite disgust many
yet tell a story so sweet so true.
Oh daughter mine be proud of your scars.
Uptilted breasts shapely hips
elegant thighs tell a story of their own
but you gave your babies all you had
with love and tenderness.
When they're grown and gone away
you will remember them still
by the scars you bear today.
Oh daughter mine be proud
Be proud of your scars.
Migrating southward before Autumn dies;
flocks of geese split the air with honking cries.
And snow clouds dapple Winter's ice-blue skies;
as winds kiss the trees with audible sighs.
Dawn's first light ignites an ice-cold sunrise;
long-gone are the songbirds and butterflies.
Yet, some creatures have learned to improvise,
turning food into fat, they winterize.
Hibernating bears must bulk up their size,
not gorging in the Fall would be unwise.
A long Winter could lead to their demise
should the need to wake up early arise.
Inclement weather tends to brutalize;
for nature doesn't react well to surprise.
Fighting starvation and all it implies;
some species evolved to cannibalize.
How can one man find
More faith in a crevasse of Siula Grande,
Than most will ever know,
Sitting beneath a pulpit on Sunday?
Dulling the truth to grow the census,
Merchants and cowards comfort the carnal ear.
Marketing Christ’s love without his conviction,
Left willful in sin with nothing to fear.
In half doctrines and custom alter calls,
Prostituting the truth with all forms of prosperity.
Akin to seeding hookers in the chambers of Heaven.
Deceived to death twice by hand and blasphemy.
Feeding wolves from among your own flocks.
In the banquets of ancient mystics and bride Blavatsky,
Word of Faith gorging on their mammon,
Left choking in an insatiable eternity.
A culture’s blue concessions are gone,
Giving more choices leaving Paul’s letters unread.
No church discipline or discernment left,
Testaments of burning flesh that once bled.
Refusing to submit to be broken.
Fading old blessings from past obedience.
Confusing favor with common grace,
Hypocrisy’s retribution birthed decadence.
Millions claiming the found life of the few,
In every eulogy and requiem,
Lukewarm afterthoughts of the Son,
Losing everything by never knowing him.
Despising the light of the living truth,
Lobotomizing guilt with the scalpel of ignorance.
Finding solace in the darkness of mystery.
Death marches infectious rainbows of tolerance.
Redefining roles and covenants in hemorrhaging lies
Under the pretense of the modern states,
Illusions of enlightenment killing somatic slaves.
Relativism’s heart courting the things he hates.
Enticed by the delusions of utopias,
Bound in the fables of autonomy.
Throats upon The two-edged sword,
In this American tragedy
-------------------------------------------------------
12.04.14
This poem attempts to capture the Fundamentalist view on certain issues with other movements within Christianity. Also, the man in the crevasse, chose a different kind of faith than you may have assumed.
Spiritual stagnation staggers senses
Insidious insanity of intermittent information
Gruesome gorging of gossips
Nauseating nature of narcissistic news
Oppression of other opinions
Flouting false faithfulness freely
Transparent traitors of truth
Hypocritical hype of haters
Evildoers exemplifying egregiousness
Transgressive territorial targets
Investigation into innocent itineraries
Mercilessly manipulating mainstream
Evidence effectively to expressively
Symbolize significant sign of the times
April 25, 2018
Sign of the Times Contest By John Hamilton
Third Place
The Scots, by God,
They drove them out,
With a single Yorkie
At their heels a' yappin'
The Hobyahs tried to fly
Their arms they were a flappin'
Some managed to take to sea
And landed in Hamptonshire,
Yes-serieee!!!
But the British Navy would have none of this,
Big battleships they did send
The Hobyahs saw their doom,
Their plans they did amend
They sailed on to American,
Landed at the New Jersey coast,
The hobyahs could find no better host!
They ate their way from Newark
All the way up to Camden
Avoiding kennels and dog warning signs
There was always people on their roast
Now, much of America
Might applaud this you see,
For most of Jersey's citizens
Were as useless as a rubber tree
Then the Jerseyites came up
With a plan,
They bribed the Hobyahs with
16 barges overfilled with McDonalds
Quarter-Pounders with Cheese-
With big sign saying-
"This Way!!"
"Free PeopleBurgers"!!!!
And Infant Limb Fries!!!!"
Now this was not within
the Hobyah's realm of understanding,
But it sure sounded good....
So on the barges they climbed,
Till each and every one of these fiends
Took to sea, gorging themselves
On what they thought was fast human food
Once out in the bay, the barges were sunk
by remote control
On shore, a Mexican Beach Police Patrolman
was heard to ask Humphery Bogart,
for his beachcomber permit...
Humphrey barked back, "What?- Don't you see the history being made here?
If you're the beach police, let's see your badges!!"
The cop sneered, "Barges?....Barges?????.....We Don't Need No Sinking
Barges!!!!"
(See "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre")
With the kind permission of Marnie Memis (Oh, I Love that name!)
3/25/19
"One More Thing"
This morning
Clouds forming
Soon to be storming
Most ignoring
The warning
Continually warring
Waters forking
Rapids roaring
Avians soaring
As events continue coursing
Heard enough recordings
That were reporting
About global warming
Whether it's sunny or pouring
Cold or scorching
Dogs and cats arrive for boarding
In a building with tile flooring
Bottles uncorking
This life isn't boring
It's rewarding
This world, we're still exploring
Organisms morphing
Meanwhile plants absorbing
The sunlight, that's supporting
All life, according
To people and other sourcing's
Barely affording
Folks snoring
Out of the loop, close and far from any cording
Drugs and people used for transporting
Still gorging
Battling addictions regarding snorting
Far too many hoarding
And overstoring
Thinking they're scoring
Any bull, I'm thwarting
The honest and hard working, I'm supporting
You better stop lording
Before the public starts swarming
About to leave this world, after one more thing
I’d annihilate
the ascending sun
from the sky
incinerate the
eremitic moon
beyond recognition
eradicate
each and every
constellation from its
galaxy
decimate every
planet one
at
a
time
if I believed
that it would
give you one
instant of
respite
from the
savages gorging
on your essence.
Whom Do We Trust
Written: by Miracle Man
7/21/2019
Every now and then, we all lose our bearing,
Facing days that become gloomy, often despairing.
We only check our compass for direction of travel,
When it appears that life is just about to unravel.
We oft seek out others, and with blame anoint,
But no man is a judge nor will God ever appoint.
He said, Cast your burdens upon me, for I care,*
Yet we oft live our lives hamstrung by despair.
We should never treat others as perhaps we’ve been treated,
Because with whatever we mete, we’ll also be meted.**
When we fail in casting burdens upon HIM for He cares,*
We’re eschewing the wheat while gorging on tares.
*1 Peter 5:7
Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.
**Matthew 7:2
King James Version (KJV)
“For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.”
On Halloween the sky was scarred.
The blood moon peered with pale regard
(a gaze that pierced the pit of night)
upon the spell of death and fright,
along a bone laced boulevard.
Though corpses crept from crypts unbarred,
the flames, they crawled in disregard
on roasting rot – a sanguine sight...
On Halloween.
The bones, they blanched within the yard,
because they sensed their evening marred
by ghouls and fiends who rip and bite
with claws and fangs which drip delight
while gorging flesh, so slightly charred...
On Halloween.
Christmas day now over,
The turkeys now all dead.
While the bloated celebrators
Sleep their gorging off in bed.
No matter what it cost them.
(Though it cost the turkeys more),
They’d enjoyed the Christmas spirit
They’d invited through their door.
With plastic in their wallets
To finance their spending spree,
They ensured that all they’d purchased
Was on show for all to see.
They let family, friends and colleagues
Know what Christmas really means,
That by spending, spending, spending
You can purchase all your dreams.
Alas for all tomorrows
They may have to scrimp and save,
While the lucky Christmas turkeys
All lie peaceful in their graves!
Ivor G Davies
Did you see the white bird fly,
pale against the azure sky,
did you watch the dead leaves fall,
windblown, strewn against the wall?
Did you hear the north wind's sigh,
coursing through the winter rye,
were you taken by surprise,
knowing now her words were lies?
Did you feel the heavens shift
as those words passed through her lips,
does she grieve the babes unborn,
as she turned from you in scorn?
Hypocrite, heard no alarm,
despite her oath to do no harm,
witness now the blackbirds fly,
ink against the blood-red sky.
All the trees are stripped and bare,
blackened claws that scrape the air,
vultures rip and tear the seams,
gorging, shredding all your dreams.
Feel the wind caress your face,
remembering her last embrace.
(For Ryan)
Amorous is the tingling touch they feel
Blooming kisses as flaming as red bells
Convey passion in their glowing eyes
Directing fantasy-filled thoughts outside
Enamored by the heavy snowfall on the elms
Farther they vanish into the hushed hills of night
Gorgeous and calm is the scenery of pure white
Dashing sleights plunge downhill as screams rise
Ensuing the feeling of glee in the northern sphere
Gorging on almond cookies is heavenly delight
Hot chestnuts steaming on logs are tempting
Increasing their aroma in rooms and nostrils
Jugs with hot chocolate take away all shivers
Kettle whistles for grandma's black tea
Leaner than anyone she'll be a centenarian
Mother prepares a lavish tray of appetizers
Neapolitan superb cuisine in every delicious bite
Overjoyed by the compliments she has received
Pours Asti Spumante* in thin and tall glasses
Quetzal in cage watches and chirps for some
Raging is the fluttering of wings being ignored
Sinking in somber mood he becomes somnolent
Time for a caffe macchiato with Panettone*
Ultimatum for those dozing off on the sofa
Vibrant is the response invigorating their thrill
While outside lampposts give off their gleam
Xenophobe of a massive storm seems insidious
Year is ending in a festive house that loves Christmas
Zealous faces look up and ask Jesus for His blessing
* Asti Spumante is an Italian white sparkling wine.
* Panettone is an Italian sweet bread
with candied fruit and raisins.
Entered in Shadow Hamilton's contest,
" Christmas Abecedarian "
Written on 12/ 30/ 2015
Twas the night before the night before Christmas
And Santa was in quite a rush
Examining his naughty and nice lists
exchanging some names was a must
The elves were all making merry
at the North Pole’s toy making party
Gorging themselves on sweet treats
and spiced cocoa made for the hardy
Mrs. Clause was refereeing the finals
of the reindeer games of the year
The Donner’s were playing the Vixen’s
Rudolph leading the jeering cheers
The lights were set on the flight ramp
Santa’s sleigh was already packed
A chore usually left for Christmas Eve
the snowmen helped take up the lack
Everything was set for Christmas Eve
a day ahead of the final year flight
The gang all sends their best regards
Merry Christmas to all and good-night!!
©Debra Squyres 2013