Best Instinctual Poems
In the name of blood, for it is the source of life itself,
Plasma's crimson essence of liquid infusion, to the undead's
Pulsating heart.
Intravenously feeding cravings passion, through the carotid
Artery at the throat of humanity, thou'st not love, suffer
The pleasure indulge the pain, the out come shall be the same,
To be embraced by the black ebony arch angel of death,
Release thy darker side, let the instinctual behavior of the beast,
Know freedoms unshackling at last.
Become one of his sacred disciples, a creature of his dark dimension,
A kindred being, unto the legion of the night.
In the moon's elliptical light, shadows thus move from
Left to right, shifting as transparent figures, phantoms of
Illusions, taking winged flight, soaring on the currents
Of air mingling with their ancestral brethren, the vampire bat.
Run does not the lone wolf, along the side path next to man,
As we do so walk amongst them, yet never attempting to belong.
Oh are we not the a shunned, the accursed, by a God known
For his forgiveness, to love all living things under
Heaven, but for us this mightiest of lords, turns
His gaze away, not acknowledging our existence.
Our we not his lost sheep, missing from his flock, why
Does not this Sheppard seek this black lamb’s wool,
Is it too coarse for weaving's wheel, as it spins thus
And is it not said that he created all life within his image.
Nay I pray this vamperic prayer, why has he abandon
Us, the darker of his creations.
Behold the unascended, begging to enter beyond the gates
Of light, children of the lost are we, seeking a father blind
To his responsibility.
Harvesting, by the basic instincts given unto us,
Taking only what we need to survive, for this he has turned
Against us, and thus taking the light of day with him.
So my father of damnation's hell, has offered salvation's
Darker domain as a sheltering harbor of comfort, I will not
Abstain his patronage.
For I am the ashunned, living by the moonlight's haunting glow,
Yet yearning to see one last horizons sunset, but the Holy Father,
Hears not my humble vamperic prayer.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Lady liberty, hold your flame light high,
Beware the path thy cross, in the wild undiscovered
Wilderness of the U.S.A.
For it is here a fierce native predator,
Stalks the rocky ranges bad lands,
Behold the American mountain lion.
Known as the cougar.
Nature's solitary soldier, walks with
Silences stealth and predatory cunning.
Beneath the thickets underbrush,
The beast does savor, upon his preys weakness,
And relishes the hunt of engagement.
Secretive creature, an apex hunter,
Wearily observing, his natural habitats
Surroundings, this king
Survives by tooth and claw alone.
Once hunted to the brink of extinction,
At the hands of mankind, and greed's bounty.
Nobility's instinctual majesty, has reclaimed
His mighty throne, on the cliff tops high.
The cougar, represents a come backs promise,
We as American's shall leave none of our
Own behind, has recovered and announces
His arrival with a mighty roar.
In the heights forbidden realm, the big horn sheep,
Smacks his antlers against his reveling foe,
It's soundings echo is heard for miles,
Abreast the whitening fallen snow,
But the great feline lord, has now returned,
To his ancestral territory, a shadow flash,
Of golden brown, a royal phantom to
The art of war, clashing with basic instincts
Desire to survive.
Behold the pride stands tall, upon the
Red bands of freedom, nay liberation’s
Symbol soars above the lion's den,
Beneath the night's sky shines with
Old glory's stars hanging in beauty's favor,
We honor him, this the great American lion,
The Cougar.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
I sometimes feel a unique vibration within
my own ears. My baby’s crying, calling from beneath his quilted,
baby-blues. His sobs rustle the warm sheath of home.
Before my mind reacts, my body is up, hastily tip-toeing
into the nightlight’s calming glow of a cow jumping over the moon.
Outside a soggy, spring night splatters under streetlights
like urban art. A steady rhythm of flowing rain
beats down on puddled pavements. My baby’s cries
reverberate as they reach that instinctual part of me,
somewhere deep within my diaphragm and through my heart.
A mother’s astute ears know the subtle variations of her own
children’s breath in sleep…I hurry to the shadows of my baby’s crib
to find him curled up, eyes still closed; little whimpers
and groans escape from his open lips…a bad dream, I realize.
I gently rub his back, shushing away all that disturbs his peace,
and I wonder about a child’s impressionable mind…
what intrusions of an innocent day could bring a bellowed anguish
to the sweet dreams of a carefree boy not yet two?
I listen to him tumble in and out of his fear until his breath is a tranquil hum…
only then, do I hear the music of an early morning’s falling rain.
The moon gave silent shadows to our form
As we lay beneath its splayed softer light
The time spent is instinctual and warm
As mist from the lake engulfs us from sight
The depth of suspended droplets transform
And roll across us in sheltered delight
To be covered by moisture's misty air
Leaves a mystery,no trace of us there
Contest Through The Mist
Frederic Parker
8/19/14
What does it mean when i cant stop thinking about someone?
What does it mean when i am obsessing?
paranoid they dont love me in return?
aching to be around them?
to smell their scent of something .....something...
beautiful, primal, instinctual, a need to have.
nothing will satisfy the "need" to have them NOW and in the future.
Is then when i purchase her with a ring?
Own her sexuality till death do we part.
I must own her.... forever.....
arise with softness
dawns instinctual rebirth
creation imbibes
11/29/2015
Idioma
There is a man with a gun.
His finger taut,
tensed and still,
the intention obvious,
no reason instilled.
Because guns kill people.
Or do people kill people?
I can never remember.
Let's take a look at entropy.
A molecule hits a molecule
hits a molecule and
BOOM - a bomb.
Thousands dead.
More on the way.
But of course that's a bit clumsy,
seeing that entropy's remorse
only marginally taps the
frayed edges of something,
Atomic.
So what stops it?
Science might tell us
Energy.
That’s a bit broad though.
Come back to the man with the gun.
Naturally he's drunk,
and not a man,
an adolescent.
Waving the gun -
the weapon in your face.
He points it at you.
So what do you do?
What can you do?
One might pray
and hope his hand is stayed,
for in the land of entropy learned helplessness breeds
Power.
And the masses will pray and cower.
Some might fight,
or fly,
in instinctual flurry.
But these options are
few and far
too crude for more, sophisticated tastes.
So this sophistication leads us...
Ah, but sophistication sounds so posh.
Let's instead call this
Order.
And so you order,
Yell,
or speak,
rather;
yelling is so harsh.
You speak,
maybe even
whisper.
You don't want to antagonize this
kid
willing to put a hole in you
- you in a hole -
covered by the thoughtlessly certain curtain of
uneasy infinity.
So you,
oh so subdued,
whisper,
Please.
But a simple please
has never gotten
anyone anywhere
worth being,
so you follow up with
a more firm
Stop.
And in his inebriation,
the most powerful
being in your world stumbles
upon a moment
of lucidity.
His finger slips,
sending a .45 caliber
bullet - lead some might call it,
but this is grossly anachronistic -
into your frontal lobe
and out your cerebral cortex.
Enter.
Exit.
An open system.
Because in an entropic world,
Language languishes in its ephemeral rags
and is wasted away by greater things.
Instincts stored from antiquity
Leather bound books; library in the mind
Beautiful tragic collections and revisions
The conundrum of neurology; conflict presides
Endowed with supreme cognition
Cursed, condemned by the residue of blind drives
Irreconcilable emotional juxtapositions
Humanities ironical demise
Profoundly ignorant, unabashed, and indifferent
Audacious opinions of uninformed certitudes
In the end, passions rule reason
The instinctual beast can’t be subdued
Like Lemmings to a cliff running blindly
Chasing those with no knowledge or esteem
If only one to be the wiser
Perhaps we awake from a really bad dream
How thoroughly you wreck me
With the taste of hope, I can't resist
That you may actually perceive my existence
As if you haven't already taken more chances than I can give
In fact, I gave so many
I lost my will to live
See, with every gamble on you that left me devastated
A small piece of who I am
Of my soul disintegrated
You encouraged me along the path to my death
Yet here I am, holding my breath
Trying to overhear you speaking
Gleaning your words
For what you're truly thinking
I must be a nitwit, a dolt, a birdbrain
For here I am taking your bait again
Even the hundreds of violations
Hurt less than seeing your pain-filled expression
I love you the way a dog loves his master
It's innate, it's instinctual
(Ha) I guess I'm well-trained
For no one has gone to lengths this drastic
To earn your love, to be your sidekick
The price I paid was catastrophic
Only to find your heart despotic
For after all my loyalty, my love, my respect
I begged for you to save my life
And you walked away instead
Leaving me to face the grave
With a comment that you don't see it that way
I guess I must truly be less than intelligent
As I find myself considering
If your abuse could be by accident
We can try to hide it
Most will attempt to push the thoughts down
We’re not naturally virtuous creatures
It’s quite the contrary - we’re monsters deep down
From the savannas we arose
Fighting fiercely to survive
Selfish, instinctive, amoral, and impulsive
Ironically, that's why we’re alive
We were forged in the primordial fires
Evolved, an anxious woman, an aggressive man
For centuries we have deceive ourselves
By saying, it's all part of God's plan
We were thrust into a world
That's far different than our ancestors home
It's a new world of abundance
Where the instinctual beast is losing control
So, we sublimate our behavior
We profess a altruistic loving heart
All the while ignoring
The monster, lurking in the dark
If we can let go of the story
Acknowledge the suffering and pain
There a chance to rise above the instincts
That are causing the most pain
Acknowledge - to live is to suffer
Recognize - conscious awareness is the burden of humanity
Accept the drive within us
Cause that's the truth - and the truth is what sets us free
“We stopped checking for monsters under our bed when we realized they live within us”
The Joker
There's only one emotion that I feel is completely instinctual
spinoff peripheral feelings are thus subservient to that one
and born complex sensual beings, Man pursues its purity
allowing wishes and fantasies to approach fulfillment
fueled by trust, you experience how happiness feels
imbuing courage, it comforts a whimpering child
no other feeling could possibly take its place
it is the first commandment given by God
and as close to heaven as mortals dare
for futures rely on its foundations
to support impossible dreams
quenching an emotional
thirst, it refreshes you
as two morphs into
one bonded by
a feeling
we call
love
(Melting Snowball)
Feb. 21, 2019
Against the pale October Moon, a lone howling cuts
Through the chill of the winter’s night, gleaming yellow
Green eyes flash in the forests wilderness wild.
Sleek mystic swift of feet, white powder chameleons,
Living by the creed of basic instinctual desire to survive,
In this harsh environment of the Rocky Mountains.
By the flight of the morning blue jay, spooked from his
Perches vantage point on high, the pack hunts in the
Deep valleys thickening glen.
Snow wolves on the prowl, seeking freedoms liberation
By tooth and claw, but these are beasts of the free spirit,
Out laws nomads, wondering where the restless heart so
Leads them.
Beguiling creatures of beauty, representing the raw
Force of power of the untamed soul, roughed individuals,
Stalkers of the ice and snow.
Spiritual brethren to the tribal Indians are these
Sacred guardians of the great spirits creation, darned
With mutual respect and admiration honor, let them
Roam freedom’s path forever.
Symbolic warriors under the skin and fur, does the animal
Run beside the human hidden within the shadow realm of realism.
Echoing in the distance, with a chilling presence that
Crawls up the neck bone of mankind, announcing,
Erriely, of the hunger driving them in silence.
Nature’s selectors, weaving the weak from the strong,
Legacies ancestral brave, soldiers of canines pack,
Living on the edge of extinction mighty wrath.
But looking into the eyes of the beast, one can only
See the beauty of a wild creature, whom wishes to remain
As he was born to be, simply put FREE!!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Feathered grand masters of the air,
Winged lords of the sky,
Chieftain's of the heights divides,
Behold the great American Eagle.
Flying rafters grappling at the moon kingdom
Of illusions, shadow stalkers by the night's
Tidal eclipse, do these lunar hunters await
For the weak and meek, to emerge from
Purging's black holes beneath the earth.
Deadly free falling demons, aiming with
Stealth's pin point accuracy, flesh to the bone,
Raw elegance in motion, soaring these the Gods
Of winged flight.
Kings standing on the roof tops of the alpine
Mountains, royalties monarchs living by instinctual
Survival, notabilities symbol of strength and power,
Divine lords of the sky.
White powder clouds pierced by the sharpened
Edges of the cutters wing, as eyes glare into the
Pitch black of night, with perfections vision
At mid-nights darkest hour.
Honors peaks holds thy nests of liberty,
As prides guardians glide in the infinite tides
Of liberation, above a nation proud and strong.
Although the shifting currents of strife may
Thrust at them, storms hellish winds of war
Strike at them, they remain united against the
Common cause, rising in a spiritual union,
These the soaring lords of the sky.
Hush in silence for just one moments lingering
Breath, watch beauty's clippers cut the sky
In half, freedom fighters living amongst
The brilliance of heaven, in a world of natural
Peace, that only mankind can dream of, are they
Not completely magnificent.
Feathered grand masters of the air,
Winged lords of the sky
Chieftain's of the heights divides,
Behold the great American Eagle.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
You've stumbled off the righteous path, into the hushed
Wilderness of the unknown, beware for salvation's sake,
Go back nomad; travel not these paths of no return.
But nay this is the domain of the shades, little is
The light, allowed to seep through the thickets, heavily
Forested canopy.
You hear the underbrush cracking, braking, and freeze.
It's too late for you nomad, for this is death's sacred land.
A place of shadows and darkness, and you are the pray.
It is the scent of fear, drawing these demon dogs of
Damnation's lost, unto your path
Run nomad, for the devil's hounds lie close behind thee,
Those whom need no rest, the depraved, hungering for
The taste of raw flesh, cravings lustful, with an insatiable thirst,
Nay never to be satisfied, instinctual beasts on a blood hunts
Trail.
A packs brethren of the undead, dwelling along the fringes
Of humanity, ever watching, ever aware, just waiting for
The innocent to be caught off guard, than attacking without
Mercy.
Run no mad, for the bastard's of hell's keep, have sensed
Your presence.
In keeping with thy hearts rhythm blood pumps, in unisons
With thy breath,
As exhaustion's limbs tire of this chase, for your lives own
Survival, run nomad, you must move onwards, at any cost.
For the howl of the white fanged, nip at the back of thy heels,
Flee do not take time to gaze behind thee, run nomad,
Refuges salvation lies not far ahead.
A primeval moon glows above thee, illuminating this spectral
Land of the forbidden, it's just then, that you truly realize, the danger
Zone you've entered, as yellow greenish eyes pierce
Through the thickets wild, nomad your surrounded.
Climb to the highest point of observation, as primitive instincts kick in,
But these creatures have all eternity to wait, patient are the kin
To the dead, slippery is the branch, on which humanity grasps,
And beneath lie the tongues of the hungry beast, drooling with
Anticipation feast to come.
In the forest does anyone hear the falling of a tree?
Or the screaming of a nomad, who has lost his way,
Maybe it was just the wind that you have heard,
I wonder, what the noise really was, as it echoes
Deep within the forest of the unknown.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
A rumbling sound does strike the ground, beneath the heavens,
The thundering finger tips of God, creeps across the earth itself.
Creation's lightening, announces their arrival, behold the mighty
Elephant bursting forth, grappling existence within it's ivory tusks.
Bend do the mountains themselves, for sheer raw power's reverence.
Divinity's creatures honored, by man and beast alike, nature's gray
Phantoms of the wilderness wild.
Roaring above even the king of beasts, whom offers royalty's
Crown unto he, the true majesty of strength and dominance.
Evolution's survivor, the living giant,
Over coming all environmental changes, the earth has set
Against it.
A keystone species, beating extinction, move for move
On the chest board of life, by evolving and adapting.
Oh mother's hold thy babies most dear, closely, as she the
Matriarch guards her calf, fission-fusion society, linked
By bloods legacy.
Never does the heart of an elephant forget heartaches loss,
Yet mourning forever within the soft brown eyes of intelligence.
Tenderly, shedding tears of regret's for-get-me-knots, but in
Her soul she knows, one day mother and calf, shall be reunited,
Beyond the elephant graveyard of stilled bones.
Hatred’s madness, drives this instinctual season called musth,
Alone rough is death's destructive shadow, seeking passion's
Mate, no matter the cost in physical pain, instincts desire must
Be appeased.
Storm's living earthquakes, shakes the African plains underneath
It's feet, the cradle of life itself is rocked, to it's innermost core.
But it is beauty, whom can tame this beast, yielding unto destiny's
Call of the wild heart, to breed, the need to leave their legacy,
And continue the future of the species.
A rumbling sound does strike the ground, beneath the heavens,
The thundering finger tips of God, creeps across the earth itself.
Creation's lightening announces their arrival, behold the mighty
Elephant bursting forth, grappling existence within it's ivory tusks.
Bend do the mountains themselves, for sheer raw powers reverence,
Divinity's creatures honored by man and beast alike, nature's gray
Phantoms of the wilderness wild.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN