Best Python Poems
The python hung down from the tree,
It hissed and it scared little me,
I gave it a whack,
To make it turn back,
And have someone else for its tea.
For Russell’s Five Minute Challenge, 11th May
If one room of writing I can never leave,
Than faithful I will remain.
Hopeful clown,
Dancing joy in books.
Paint my face with colorful ink,
Scrolls cloth me in bagginess.
Bringing a smile & laughter to overcome the pain,
Everyday living.
Lord,
My Witness indeed.
Looking down from the Heaven.
Lived I did,
Mostly dark moments.
My life past,
Overcast writings.
Living Sheol I thought could never be broken,
Ball & chain no more.
Therefore,
Help others,
My destiny?
Welcome little boy in me,
Time to play!
Lord,
Once in awhile he needs his nap.
Can the man take the pen?
Like every child he desires cookies & milk.
Cookies are the joices of others,
Milk to carry on after the reading in joyful hope.
So!
Here I am Monty Python,
I'm signing on the dotted line!
O?
By the way,
We'll discuss my pay later!
That summer night we raised our tent
beneath the moonlit, star-filled sky.
A day of hiking we had spent
along Australian trails nearby.
All settled in, did not take long-
exhausted from the rugged hike,
to fall asleep with nature's song
of creature sounds soft and ghost-like.
Before too long- asleep I sensed
my love's strong arm, reach over me.
I cuddled closer, leaned against-
but soon was pressured horribly.
Around my neck it strangled tight
I could not make a single sound;
such inner fear and total fright
when 'round my torso it then wound.
My arms were trapped, what can I do?
How is this happening and why?
I can't believe my life is through
beneath this moonlit, star-filled sky.
At once I felt strong hands tug hard
but could not free the tightened grip.
My life was ebbing, full breaths barred,
and into death, I'd surely slip.
My husband screamed, "I've got my knife,"
as tighter curled its hold on me.
"Oh, God, please save my darling wife-
from this huge monster, set her free!"
The python snake much tighter grasped-
above, a knife all set to fall!
At once I sat right up and gasped!
"Thank God! A nightmare! That was all!"
September 14, 2016
Premier Contest: The Snake Charmer
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
The Burmese python lives in a creek
Far away from cold arctic
His body is colorful mosaic
The beautiful patterns are very sleek
His patterns are like ones of warriors and knots of Celtic
But in case of this python blue is centric
Like an entry gate to out world the pattern is cryptic
Most of its hues are covered from view but their amount is sick
The idea of evolution being environment in out world they try to mimic
That is why the patterns are like mosaic
They are words in most ancient Gaelic
The ever increasing patterns express ever developing spirit in plane of trans cosmic
Act of inspiration wrestle pythons
Research scientists are the primary audience
ethics and research breakthroughs
bring the beauty, multi-media presentation allows
photographers
Auto loading service pistol- long awaited culmination
Brutally overbuilt
disregard" the request for help
generally docile the loudest creatures on earth
Shoot, shovel, and shut-up
collaborators use a suite of factors to assess
national policies to promote efficiency
Europe After the Rain
Persistence of Memory done before 1800
Commercial advertisers often seek purpose
An Experienced Perfectionist
showing a belief in and veneration
imbued with pious sacred rites
*For the cut- up contest
( and yes, these are in exact order LOL)
after Odumegwu Ojukwu
after Chinua Achebe
after Christopher Okigbo
after Dele Giwa
after Kofi Awoonor
after Kwame Nkrumah
after Ngugi Wa Thiong'o
after Nelson Mandela
after Wole Soyinka
after Leopold Senghor
after Flora Nwapa
I am part of this ancestry black struggle
For Africa to be reckoned in the world
not of ancient historical context of backwardness but of productivity
I wasn't part of the python dance
taken to the East against the voiceless.
Our ancestral souls still beat louder
The shrines of our forefathers are not destroyed by palms of westernisation
We still have men of understanding
Men whose hands are legs of fire
We've told the boys that no youth returns to early grave again, never!
This fashion of corruption is gone
Every darkman rules for others to rule.
No politician shall ride on a state car
Whilst many travels on a trapped
roads.Our python dance shall be for restructuring of Africa heritages
not for killing our own blood for fun.
This we pledged drinking from one cup
Gathering firewood that would take us throughout the wet season of this storm
Africa is our home and our hearts to
protect and guide from purple aliens
no more python dance to kill our own.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent
I went to an ‘animal experience’ its something I won’t forget
Sitting there on benches with a canopy to stop us getting wet
The first creature we saw was a giant cockroach – it was sooooo big
We had the chance to hold it I said ‘no way’ just put it on a twig
Next we saw a giant African snail
The thought of holding it made me go quite pale
Finally they brought out the snakes
I was so scared I got the shakes
But ‘Monty’ python was so stunning
I was good and didn’t go off running
The lady held it for us to touch
So warm and soft it wasn’t rough
Touching a snake does not hold such a fear
I will be brave again if I go next year
Jan Allison
19th July 2014
If you feel too dejected to talk,
are alone and feel dull as a rock,
try to be at your ease,
imitate Mr. Cleese:
raise your legs for the silliest walk.
She slithers out of her dress perfectly
like a Ball Python shedding a faded coat of skin.
And her hair floats in slow motion
like astronauts dancing on the moon,
like sun burned autumn leaves letting go of their mother tree,
like a child letting go of a mickey mouse head shaped balloon.
And in her eyes I can see and hear the ocean
and now I'm sinking
now I'm drowning
now I'm letting go
and nothing feels better than letting go.
-Bryce Stoskopf
Craziest time...
Under my sheet
Felt something strange...
Tickling my feet
My wife wasn't there...
She had slept at her momma's
So I knew it wasn't her...
That had crawled up my pajamas
I froze for a moment...
Lay stiff like a board
Then I jumped like a rabbit...
When my breath was restored
I fell off my bed...
Felt a bruise and a bump
When I landed hard...
On the round of my rump
I admit I was a bit frightened...
And all the bit scared
But I just had to laugh...
When I saw what I feared
It jumped off of my bed...
And it ran through my house
What had crawled up my pajamas ...
Was a tiny white mouse
Craziest Time At The Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
7-28-2020
silent but deadly
a python in high grasses
sneaking up quickly
Ten foot python log then? Well that is a mirror for the senses. First to arrive is a late morning whilst a skipping rope can traverse many waving beams. Travesty when using a pillow. Engrained in a pickle at ninety six degrees. Unfathomable by a curd whose pulsating juices ebb and flow. Like a forestry fauna in a spring printed napkin. Over and over rolls a very fat snail. For its the weather that is sent. In a sentence release. Pointing an iron rock in a clap. And giving a presentation to a sea of prawns. Pretty clam smiles in a soup. Ravishing layers of interlocking legs. In a legal flame. Fish. Fast. Fastened. First-class. *** moonbeams xxxx ding dong. ***
little coil
shiver and shake
tiny squeeze
squeak
tah dah tah dah
anaconda arrives
need any help? she asks
python hisses a warning
constricting a bit tighter
louder squeak, then silence
dinner’s eyes pop out
python smiles
not about to
share her
lunch
anaconda
slithers away
CRYPTIC CALLS:
i
The night called out to him
A man of plane fleet
Gloved in illusion of machete and strength
To beat out from the web of sleep
And answer the howling cryptic calls:
Cryptic calls of hooting owls and chirping crickets
Cryptic calls with lurid eyes of a marauder
A marauder in the parapet of silence…
The chameleon has changed its colour
The cloud refused giving out dew
And the moon (in monocle) beat down on the glimmering grasses
To forewarn him of the hatching egg
Bearing horn as fang
Bathing with fire…
Ii
He heard the sound but did not see the cryptic step drawing near
Yet another proof that the pearls have to be forgone
But will man’s weakness play low on him
To forfeit the fishes in the hooks-
The Fishes renting net
He has gone out for:
shattered cries in the air
Echoes down the river stream,
The forest will tell of the glees
Of the meat that got a meat
Who went out for the fish;
Broken bones and splashes of blood
Wanton break of breath-
Had it been a crocodile
Joy of death not to have taken a dilatory step
Along the verge of the smothering weight…
Iii
He galloped him down a whole-
Termites crying for no crump
Vultures for no corpse
People for no man-
One has taken the joy of all
With community answering another cryptic calls
But who born the devil -
The spider with million hands
To lay cobwebs on the road
That they may not see the pregnant python at the river bank.