Best Preyed Poems
There’s a beguiling danger in beauty…
seduced as I was by the fickle fingers of fate musingly stroking my hair,
I envisaged
this lusciously lavish landscape
of sun-raptured heavenly hills and valid valleys
to be a lush, plush place for me to land ~
alas, such deception my naive perception did offer.
Buried beneath the facade of a fertile dream-come-true
and a mesmerizing mirage of natural light and zephyrus breaths -
where your thoughts hugged the horizons of my mind
like clouds on the edges of prairie dog skies
and where your stampeding passions trampled my inhibitions -
were delicate bandeaux of ice;
finespun and feathery like polar gossamer
that formed on the stems of your ruptured dreams
that then became my nightmare
when you had your hard freeze
while warm sap still flowed through your veins,
pumped and pushing through your broken being
and freezing on contact with the chilled clime
cocooning me, in a sudden silken surge of your glazing gauze
holding me, in the vivid wild magic of your frosted crystallized clutches -
fossilizing me, in icy opalescent ribbons of ornate whorls.
Unable to escape the grasping glacial petals of your exquisite pain,
your frost flowers plunged me into the frigid heart
of your bitter bluestem’s prairie winter...
There’s a beguiling beauty in danger
hypnotized and hijacked
as I was by the rhythmic sways of your tall grass ways -
your flickering tongue tasting my air
as my emotions were extorted
till I was bled white -
obviously oblivious
that I was being preyed upon
by a stealthy force of nature motivated by indigenous instincts.
Susan Ashley
March 13, 2018
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Poetry for the Sake of Poetry
Sponsor: John Lawless
*bluestem: tall grass native to the Great Plains with bluish leaf sheaths*
*frost flower: thin layers of ice extruded from long-stemmed plants in autumn or early winter. These thin ice layers form dainty ‘ribbons’ or ‘petals’*
not like a Christian, but like a victim.
I prayed like a woman afraid,
afraid I was the sacrifice to his vice.
I would lie awake then. I lie awake now
as my heartbeat hammers
my breastbone like a blacksmith,
I remember… I remember
in a pale cringe, I sniffled. My blood polka-dotted
a white floor that smeared an inkblot of me.
A split lip, half-wit tamed by the maim of his fist.
His madman’s magma buried me,
a lingual lava flow that hardened as it cooled.
My sense of self turned to obsidian. I fractured.
Tears slashed like shards. I bled self-esteem.
He preyed on me
as I prayed to him like he was a god.
Please forgive me! It’s all my fault! On my knees
I was dead to myself.
He split my skin. Stripped me to my bones.
His vulture needs I remember.
My emotional remains he savored,
flavored with backhands and vodka bottle bottoms.
I seethed in sour juices of moonshine abuses.
I counted moons and contusions. I counted
each stitch needled through my skin.
My heart quilted with clichés;
I love you. I'm sorry. It'll never happen again.
I seized my breath so's not to moan or implode.
As I exhale I remember
I fantasized of blasting him to the belly of Hell
when I’d usher vengeance inside our back door.
Reaper’s reckoning when this battered forget-me-not
shattered his bones with buck-shot scatter. Damn!
I’d have paid the devil for a jail cell to be free.
A candlelight-night bruised by cruiser lights:
I remember I prayed like a victim to 911.
Oh God! Please God! Help me! He's gonna kill me!
I pressed bleeding heart flowers between diary pages,
diary pages without words cried to be heard.
Concussion dreams panic my pulse, dilate my eyes!
Oh, dreamless sleep, grant me deceased peace.
Until night hags of nightmares die
I will remember...
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
In youth the Eden where you played
was left bereft, destroyed, decayed,
by trusts malignant masquerade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
No grass survives your fallow glade,
when opportunist needs invade
and bleed the lives from every blade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
First, victims surging song is brayed
but dirges of the wronged soon fade
and urges pant their serenade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Agendas you arrange cascade
to keep your motives undisplayed
and cover cracks in your charade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
You planted with your soiled spade
these spoiled seeds in hopes that they'd
advance the rancid plots you'd laid
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
In kind, your ruined past replayed
will find each bloom on whom you've preyed
entombed in blighted beds you've made
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
We loved the land
We tilled the earth, under sun we toiled
We pledged our souls, to nature’s whim
The King of France none to pleased
We took the sacraments
We held our faith, mournful to fates embrace
The British demanded a new oath we take
And scalped we were, both sides did partake
Our villages burned, our fields afire
Our woman and children, in hunger perished
We feared Monckton, a hunter of death
And from him, to ships hold, deported at best
We preyed to Canada, to lend us a hand
Evangeline an angel of our land
The darkened forests, to where we fled
Became bloody in battles, and turned to red
For Redcoats wandered in search of scalps
As Father Le Loutre preached unheavenly deeds
He was bloodthirsty and in skirmishes his evil flourished
His Mikmaq warriors helped rivers flow to blood
We lived along the rivers edge
We fought them all, to no one did we pledge
As serfs we served, to whom did rule
In the end, the forest sang our quiet eulogy
The vessels sailed from Halifax
With their human cargo of Partisans
Off to the West Indies, and a new land
Disease triumphed where Lord Laurence failed
And so the voyage, onward went
The traditions of Grand Pre, to Louisiana was lent
And there they settled, peace at last
As angels of their battles, in sacrifice did rest
I followed that cad Robyn Hood
and discovered he's up to no good
An expert at cheating
bad mouthing and bleating
His actions I've not understood
Oh how awful that folks feel so glum
Many now call him Robyn Hoodlum
He's a raunchy thief
who brought them to grief
He preyed on the blind, deaf, and dumb
Robyn has folks dancing like Muppets
He loves to treat them like puppets
He tugs at their strings
and then clips their wings
No wonder their confidence plummets
Heard the sheriff will arrest him soon
Robyn will be singing a new tune
While sitting in jail
He will cry and wail
In sorrow for acting like a goon
Sheriff found out Robyn is a girl
Her real name is Antoinette Pearl
Robyn Hoodlum wed
Now the sheriff is dead
and Robyn is engaged to an earl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fairytale plot by Jan Allison, Marti Sutherland, and Lin Lane
Sir Homophone came to meet the maid that somehow stayed so slim.
Her feat was to stay chaste to him and yet by his feet be chased by him.
She had recently lost some weight by refusing to partake in evening sup.
It seemed the more that she pared down the more likely to be paired up.
All night the weak maid prayed so meekly for the Knight that she sees.
But the Knight preyed to be made thrice weekly and she at night to seize.
She hoped he would meet and see her and then choose to wed,
But it was the supper meat that saw the sear that he chews instead.
She sewed her dress then pared the wood and the holy altar made,
He sowed distress when he prepared his wood to wholly alter the maid.
“Maid please tend to me now you’ve said you weekly have sordid sex.”
“Knight please you misunderstand I said I weakly have sorted sox.”
She begged, “Please be discreet with what it is that we’ve discussed.”
He shrugged, “You are awfully discrete in what it is that you disgust.”
But love conspired to steal, his heart soared and they were off to wed,
Then lust transpired to steel his hard sword and they were off to bed.
He was happy because of her sighs and she was happy because of his.
This concludes my good Knight tale and all of this good night tail biz.
You read it didn’t you? Shame on you, I had to read it because I wrote it
but you had a choice. Benny Hill would be so proud.
=======================
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
In youth the Eden where I played
was left bereft, destroyed, decayed,
by trusts malignant masquerade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Sweet grass dies in my fallow glade
as opportunist needs invade
and bleed the life from every blade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
First, victims surging song is brayed,
then dirges of the helpless fade
and urges pant their serenade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Agendas I've arranged cascade
to keep my motives undisplayed
and cover cracks in my charade
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
I've planted with my soiled spade
slick seeds of doubt in hopes that they'd
conceal the putrid plots I've laid
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
My blighted past will be replayed
and every bloom on whom I've preyed
must lie now in the beds I've made
=======================
Perched high upon the escarpment
of sandstone rubble, the boy sat,
shaded from the rising of the sun
in the shadow of Kings.
Sharp eyed he preyed
upon the tourist below, and to his God Allah.
His path was a treacherous one
looped and twisting like the snakes of ochre gold
shone cresting the brow of Ramesses
in the unearthly Valley of the Kings;
far from the osprey and marsh grass
of the beloved Nile.
Below the boy, on a zigzag path
between the mouth-like openings to the netherworld,
tourists swarm, ants on a mound of honey stone
suckers of sweetness, oblivious,
as they had done for centuries.
He sat as his father before him
hunkered down knees to chest
the vulture heraldic creature of Upper Egypt
death eater, little had changed except
now the robbers wore blue jeans and not the hajab.
He had earned his small bit
of the twentieth century..hawking
No torrid steel rod cauterized my wounds
I could not lick the festering gashes clean
Your sharp-bladed tongue bit too deep
fangs plunged with each vile cursed scene
No mere prick or scratch did you inflict
as thorns draw drops from a finger laid bare
You severed our dangling cord with a stare
Without gauntlet thrown before you swayed
I was waylaid in the pitfall of vows betrayed
I sat weeping upon moistened ground
faintly hearing from ears, a snarling sound
a vile bitterness in your laughter as I stirred
If you have a conscience, I shall be its burr
You turned your back and sidled away
basking in glory; your cruelty had been done
but there is no victory for you, nothing won
for a man whose feet were molded of clay
How often you preyed on weakness of others
while you played at being sanctimonious
Liquid courage brings death that smothers
but I escaped the hold you once tightly held
before my life had been snuffed and felled
I still breathe and I've no fear to speak
I've been set free, and I'm no longer weak
My tongue holds daggers of its own
whetted on the grind stone of your deception
I was hungry for strength, parched with thirst
to take vengeance as my anger grew
emotions that were long past due
Felling you would then label me a doer of evil
which is something I would never desire to be
Vengeance will never be mine to take
knowing this is true is what set me free
Years will pass but I shall never forget
that I was true to you, yet I sorely regret
not realizing the kind of person I loved
I've moved on and no longer grieve
while you still swim in the fiery waters
of your besotted world of make believe
for F. A.
You, in going a little way from yourself
Have gone a long way from my gullible ilk.
« I’m trying hard not to like you, » you said
The breaths of several men surging in your nostrils
And the stench abraded in your flesh :
« You are unshaven. »
You took proper care to remember the right words :
« Why are you so far away, I cannot reach you. »
The ****** you probably tried to fake –
Thanks for the repeated protestations -
Blew all the other exhausted noises through.
« I think it’s all this lack of sleep and all that, » you said
Trapping me with your alien scents.
You have gone away more than a little from yourself.
I have felt and avoided the humiliation in your voice :
« Turn out the lights. I’m afraid
You’d never like me again. »
These are bothersome words.
Only constant repetition make them less wearisome.
One whole week you waited and watched.
One by one you chalked us down.
We fled, not so much from you
As from ourselves, not knowing which
You or the condemned flower to take :
« Why don’t you tell me something about yourself.
I’ve said enough, » you said and came closer
Wraithed in your trapper's overflying airs.
Now that you have prospected a little
Confiscated my intimate thoughts, coaxed my ego
Applied the guileful balms which embolden
A man in bed and made of the future a promise
And turned and sighed like the unwanted thing
Now that you have preyed in my sanctuary
Gazed long in wistful silence my empty shrine
How can I let you go – take my scent
And mix it till it roots in other flesh
And wandering, I’ll not know why someday
I might fret in the company of familiar strangers.
« What about the lad ? » Alone and wishfully loitering
« Oh, let him toss and turn. Why shouldn’t he ?
He’ll write better then, » you said, for once
Rippling the nimble calm embossed on feigning face
That poised flutter of your lips when words you wield
Assume a dextrous innocence
Little wonder then the sensually provoked blushes
Cross-fertilise the loping lurk of your poems.
You in going a little way towards me
Have gone a long way from yourself.
Before you go a little way prospecting
Leave leave a little of yourself in your safe.
©: T. Wignesan, 1965 (from the collection: tell them i'm gone, 1983, rev. 2012)
time marches on
reality's fire consumes—
dreams go up in smoke
Dishonest weights, deceptive scales forsake
as chains of injustice rake the flesh
of the preyed-upon bleeding, amid wild
wolves feeding, soft sheep bleating,
protestor's pleading, jurisdictions cheating,
cajoling, wheedling, injustice repeating—
jurisprudence at the confluence
of affluence and influence
~undocumented lies exhumed
unmitigated truth entombed~
They have their thumb on the scale! We
have sussed every detail on the field of
debris, some so fiercely taking a knee,
others shot trying to flee! "I can't breathe,"
"I don't care!" Why don't they care?
Of what justice is meting beware!
One higher than the highest is watching,
waiting to signal the one riding to conquer
and complete his conquest. What's the true
future view? What more can we do
before we become past tense?
tragedies worldwide
flooding my senses daily—
fill my bag of tears
I look upon your dauntless trail
and see your steadfast heart prevail
'round every challenge big or small
you chose the path of love for all
when darkness preyed upon the weak
to their defense your voice did speak
nee' avarice or greed did mar
your winsome touch, o' avatar
I look up yonder on the hill
and see your poetry, shining still
if one wish granted, I would strive
to make your words remain alive
beside the burning bush of life
you doused the flame and buried strife
upon your mantle, battle worn
I beg your dagger, truth be born
*humble tribute to Robert Frost
THE WEAK ARE BEING
PREYED UPON.
MOST DON'T HAVE A CLUE.
GLOBALIST HAVE A GOAL.
THEIR GOAL, CONTROLLING YOU.
BIG PHARMA HAS YOUR DNA.
WHAT DO YOU THINK
THEY'LL DO?
GENETICALLY MODIFY
HUMAN BEINGS?
THAT MEANS ME AND YOU.
TECHNOLOGY IS A DANGER.
WHEN IN WICKED HANDS.
ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE CONTROLLED
TO FALL PREY TO THEIR DEMANDS.
THERE ARE THOSE, WHO BELIEVE,
FREE WILL IS NOT YOUR RIGHT.
IF THE MASSES ELEVATE
CONSCIOUSNESS.
THEY WILL LOSE THEIR FIGHT.
THEIR FIGHT TO CONTROL
THE POPULOUS.
EVERYTHING WE THINK SAY AND DO.
THEY REFUSE, TO RELINQUISH
POWER.
WHICH IS AUTHORITY OVER YOU.
TRANSHUMANISM
ISN'T SOMETHING NEW.
IT'S BEEN AROUND FOR MANY YEARS.
NANO CHIPS INSIDE YOUR HEAD?
AN ATTEMPT TO QUELL THEIR FEARS.
WHEN THEY CONTROL THEIR TECHNOLOGY,
PLANTED IN OUR HEADS.
THEY CONTROL WITH A CLICK OF A
MOUSE IF WE LIVE OR SHOULD BE DEAD.
BIG PHARMA IS NOT RESPONSIBLE
FOR THE VACCINE RELATED DEAD.
TELECOMS AND COMMUNICATIONS
NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CANCERS
OF THE HEAD.
SOME POLITICIANS ARE BOUGHT
AND PAID FOR.
SOME ELITIST LIKE TO BOAST.
INTERNATIONAL CORPORATIONS
BELIEVE THIS DESERVES A TOAST.
POPULATION CONTROL
THROUGH GENOCIDE
IS A FORM OF EXECUTION.
ELEVATED CONSCIOUSNESS
WILL LEAD TO A REVOLUTION.
I TIP MY HAT TO THE TRUCKERS.
WHO DECIDED TO MAKE A STAND.
ATTEMPTING TO SAVE OUR
FREEDOMS OUR LIVES AND OUR
LANDS.
I AM JUST A POET.
JUST WRITING WHAT I SEE.
WHEN IT COMES TO FREEDOM.
FREEDOM IS NEVER FREE.
Michael E. Harris
02112022
A man can fail many times, but he isn't a failure until he begins to blame somebody else.
John Burroughs
bursts of anger once ruined me,
my hopes and dreams, fear and doubt stole,
leaving pain as deep as the sea,
blame the shadows shrouding my soul.
pride, the pleasure of vain conceit,
ruined the truth that did console,
more smugness than love could defeat,
blame the shadows shrouding my soul.
ego preyed on my soft yearnings,
dimming the light that made me whole,
masking warmth with lavish earnings,
blame the shadows shrouding my soul.
tempting me were life’s possessions,
felt like greed had taken control,
selfishness brought bleak impressions,
blame the shadows shrouding my soul.
still, I had only me to blame,
fighting my pride, knowing my goal,
when I failed, feeling so much shame,
blame the shadows shrouding my soul.
Disgusting could be a weaker word to express the scene,
Nauseating and stomach-churning the locus has been;
Sliding, slithering, groveling, crouching, crawling, creeping,
Filling, feeling, and falling they were seeping and sleeping...!
Crab, lynx, silk, orb, ogre... varieties were within,
Specimen of many species, yet, resembled akin;
Weaving webs and entwining each other they pulled, and pushed,
Weighing and wheeling their bodies across they looked ambushed...!
Shooting silk out of their abdomen, they preyed on insects,
Powerful they all seemed as though with venomous effects;
The patience and persistence they practice can be adored,
Midst their ugliness their role in the world can't be ignored...!!!
03 June 2023
Bag of Spiders Poetry Contest
Bag of Spiders Poetry Contest