Best Savagely Poems
Silent, she slips from her stronghold’s security,
safely tucked high on the cliff in her nest.
Cautious, she stays in the shadows afforded her,
sorrowful, hesitant, missing the rest.
Her parents and siblings had sought out the sunshine,
flying the open air, learning their craft.
Soaring and diving, they basked in the currents;
she, feeling poorly, by chance, had stayed back.
Sounds like a cannon had rung out above her;
shrieking and screaming, she watched the first fall.
Caught in the open with no chance for cover,
savagely, swiftly, death came for them all.
Hugging the hillside, she used the thick foliage,
bobbing and weaving, avoiding the limbs,
calling on instincts she knew not inside her,
fine-tuned adjustments through flexes and trims.
Cover was ending; the ocean awaited her.
Her heart was racing, her mind strangely clear.
Mother had taught her to seek out the currents;
a warm water pocket meant updrafts were near.
Tucking, she dove as she flew in the open,
a bullet herself, towards shiny blue glass.
Braking so subtly, just at the last moment,
she shot across wave tops, dizzily fast.
There! A small change in the water beneath her.
Pulling up hard, she flapped skyward and soared.
Where she was headed lay unknown before her,
on past the sunset to some distant shore.
“The silent song of the sighing breeze,”
In leafless demeanor of shuddering trees,
Whispered cries of a dismantled dream
Augmenting dissonance of broken theme,
A theme composed in the promise of yore
Avowing endearing passions evermore,
Of love eternal, enamoring core of soul,
Till its amorous glory, fate savagely stole.
Though zephyrs forlorn, still cruelly blow,
Wailing lovelorn woe of forgotten throe,
Despair is vanquished from song of sorrow,
For hymns of bliss sing of hopeful morro.
Pledges of today, foretell future of ardour,
Vying dreamscapes, musings-ecstatic adore,
Buoying tides of love to tomorrow’s shore,
Abandoning yesteryears memories abhor;
Of pensive sighs, spent-emotions decry,
Of dejection lamenting love gone awry,
Of nightmares trembling sleepless night,
Of allegories wistful, destiny’s hands write.
“The silent song of the sighing breeze,”
Now sings of love, from flowering trees,
Whispering melodies to a dulcet dream
Augmenting allure of lovesome theme.
Line #1
A BUSH FIRE
One scorching afternoon,
A sudden splintering sound was heard,
The nearest was the buffalo herd,
They smelt the smoke and felt the heat,
And began to charge, they had to beat,
The, scorching red hot fire.
The monkeys who swing and never tire,
Screeched loudly in tongues,
Whilst smoke, stole oxygen out of their lungs.
A mighty midget the porcupine,
Warned chancers that his quills so fine,
Would incur great pain
Not only a red blood stain,
For he dreaded to be turned belly up,
And had no intention, of being anyone’s sup!
The birds began to fly very high,
Away from the smoke, in the sky.
The unfortunate tortoise lost his way,
And sadly, with his life, had to pay.
The giraffe with tall spindly legs
Ran wildly destroying nests and eggs,
His wildness came from his wrath,
And, the chaos along his path.
The animals ran faster away from the fire,
Whilst the flames leapt higher and higher.
A mamba slithered forward next,
Whilst a frightened cub looked on perplexed,
A Zebra, tripped and broke his back,
Causing more confusion in this race track.
The springbok and hyena together ran,
They were now close to the water pan,
The pan was next to a river,
Would they make it,
Each animal began to quiver,
Could the springbok be tomorrow’s lunch,
A tree falls with a thud and crunch,
Distracting the hyena from his would be munch!
The fox cunningly glances from side to side,
Nimbly a burning log jumps wide.
The lions mouth their cubs gently but tight,
As they run from this horrendous plight.
But water is in sight!
Everyone is close to the finish line,
This race has become competitively fine,
The crocodiles are savagely waiting to dine!
They have spotted their first meal,
The frightened perplexed cub hurriedly steal.
Only a quarter,
Can get into the water.
A stampede starts, animals clamber over each other,
The young ones protected by their mother.
Unfortunately only the strongest will survive,
To tell future generations of their strive,
Of what it’s like, living a bush veld life.
Silk wading thru wistfully warm sea waters,
my dreaming fingers have lingered to potter
with ocean surface, sun sparkled glitters.
My poetic pieces have gone full twitter
in charmed waters of crystal clear rarity
where I felt God's love soothe life's severity.
Slowly easing into ocean powered waves,
my playful moods have seriously caved
from forceful, salt stinging, brutal wave smacks.
My body has ached sea bruised, blue and black.
Rough seas crudely taught me joy may survive
despite waves of fright that savagely arrive.
Now, reaching the end planks on my journey's pier
and viewing my twilight's approach so clear,
it's past sunshine glitters that most sustain
these concluding sea views for my earthly gain.
Yet, I know without crass waves that abused,
wading joys would not have peaked this enthused.
Lord give me strength, but most of all I need understanding,
this old world has gotten crazy, unstable, and so overwhelming and demanding.
Things that you know are wrong, get the go ahead, the proverbial green light,
what has happened to our fortitude, our willingness to make things right.
Growing up if we heard the hell word used, most of us would blush a glowing shade of red,
now if you don't cuss, people think you're a little sick in the head.
You can color me old fashion or anything that you choose,
but I liked those old days much better, maybe I have lost most of my screws.
I think the sixties was a turning point for this country, what with the hippies and the
Vietnam War,
it divided this country, and left a festering scar.
That was when drugs and free love seemed to take center stage,
that was when my age group the “Baby Boomers” were the main rage.
I couldn't see it back then, all the damage we were doing,
but the storm clouds we created were savagely brewing.
All the good and right our forefathers fought so hard to protect and keep,
we destroyed and now what we sowed we must reap.
We created a monster that only God can make right,
we've unleashed the devil, and he's full bloom into flight.
Like the genie that is out of the bottle, there is no way to get him to go back,
he's feeding on our children, so evil a heart, so calloused and black.
Sandcastles built upon a pristine beach are a marvel to behold,
With much pride taken by the architect to design and mold!
But, alas, this fragile work of art is destined to be savagely razed
By the inexorable creep of hissing surf, leaving the builder dazed!
Many folks spend their time daydreaming, building castles in the air,
But, oft' such dreams crumble, washing o'er them in waves of despair.
Whether one builds castles in the air or sandcastles nigh the sea,
Each is but a fleeting dream with no imperishable guarantee!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserve
Placed No. 3 in Gail Doyle's "Sandcastles By The Seashore" Contest - May 2012
A shadow haunts me everywhere
of vacillating shape and size;
by day I drag about the form
that nightly, suffocating, lies
upon me in my bed.
A shadow haunts me everywhere;
my heart has never yet been free.
it breathes the very air I breathe
and from my hands steals savagely
what would be wine and bread.
A shadow haunts me everywhere
and loosed...Oh! How I long to be
a spirit child of lightning grace
forever set at liberty:
the selfish shadow dead.
© 1987, Faye Lanham Gibson
To Bethlehem Judah they came,
On a cold, winter night, with the wind blowing wild.
The man led a donkey, which carried a woman,
And the woman was heavy with child.
It was easy to see that her time was at hand,
That she was tired, weary, and worn.
No room at the inn--they were shown to a stable--
What an unlikely place for a king to be born.
They mocked Him and spat in His face.
They savagely whipped Him, and crowned Him with thorns.
They showed Him no mercy, but cruelly abused Him,
Till His body was bleeding and torn.
To appease the wild mob, He was, then, crucified,
For crimes that He'd never done.
They laughed as He died on a cross, on the hillside.
What an unholy way to respond to God’s Son.
Take care as you travel, my friend,
How you relate to others you meet on life’s road.
Remember to love them and think kindly of them
As you help them to carry their load.
There is always someone you can help on the way,
If you will but take time to see.
Remember these words, spoken by Jesus,
“As you have done unto these my brothers and sisters,
--you have done even so unto Me.”
When tons of doom filled nights fall upon your head,
embers glow fierce and fires burn unabated.
Recalling her last breath and wish you were dead
in poem's last line, you've been beat and castrated.
From the heavens, a voice thunders out dire threats
about loses and late breakfasts without eggs.
Fumbling about, looking to hedge your foolish bets,
you drink your cold coffee, down to bitter, burnt dregs.
On waking you find dawns hammer truly fell.
Last nights burns are reminders of your tortured life.
You stumble and look up from pits of dark raging hell,
recounting now the true reasons you lost your wife.
Your alarm clock chimes out vulgar curses at you
and your dark house bids you leave by peals at noon.
You think of the ancient, sad wicked dreams, too,
as night falls with it's huge wretched lucent moon.
Dreaming of hungry tigers eating your new boots.
your house perched atop two tall adjoining trees.
A hunter fires; it is not a tiger that he shoots.
Second angry wife cuts your legs off at the knees
Metaphor amputations are so savagely sever.
Your spirit cries out I must flee, tiger is near.
The tiger roars with laughter, I own all your pain.
Second lioness purrs with abject contempt and disdain
Your old slaughtered heart bleating faint cries out.
Memories tainted and dreams coercing a shout.
In abyss of regret the famished tiger dines.
You struggle to cope, tree sways breaking it's vines.
What of taunting lioness who's false words defame?
Half muted stutters quivering lips murmur blame.
Muttered niceties in deep with disgust feigned.
Tiger haunting your dreams, as King it truly reigns.
Will you take a stand your courage regained?
Can you bare the cost, can you bear the pain?
Be strong take back what your past gains.
Clean the slate wipe away the shameful stains.
Climb up from the depth of hells dark pits.
Replace dawns hammer with soft cotton mitts.
Let satisfied lioness purr, hunt the raging tiger.
Be happy, be proud of regaining your swagger.
WRITTEN WITH ONE OF THE BEST POETS I KNOW.
ROBERT LINDLEY FOR THE CHALLENGE ON HIS BLOG.
THANK YOU ROBERT FOR CHOOSING TO WORK WITH ME.
NOT A MORTAL LOVE
Ours is not a mortal love, one that fades or dies,
For I could spend infinity just looking in your eyes.
Ours is not a mortal love ripped apart by lies.
Forever in your arms, my dear, naked in my disguise.
Ours is not a mortal love like the ones betrayal hides
Committed to the truth, I swear, my honesty abides.
Ours is not a mortal love that anger savagely unties,
Peaceful is my warrior soul, my power to be wise.
Ours is not a mortal love unseen by human eyes,
For every loving moment is written in the skies.
Ours is not a mortal love, my heart belongs to you,
My body, soul and spirit, too, I gladly give to you.
Ours is not a mortal love withered on the vine
If ours is not a mortal love, it must surely be Divine.
Dec 31/16
blazing overkill
attacking inner depths
savagely i ride
weathering
the storm
galloping
on the crest
of waves
unfurling high winds
battered and torn
russian roulette
revolving
rolling in the chambers
lead heavy
spinning circles
upside down
pulling on feelings
emotions explode
burning fire
in depths
shot through
the heart
death
to a lovers emotion
love lives
in you died
An awful aardvark ate anchovies against all advice.
Besides belching beyond belief, he bit bitter banana boats.
Charlie Chimp cackled curiously, convinced
Delicious delectable desserts did damage.
Enormous energy engaged enthusiastic excitement
Frenzied friendly felines, forever forgiving
Greasy giraffes giving grievous gripes
Horsey happiness hiding hurt amongst hilarity.
Ignoring idiocy involved ignorantly,
Jumping jack-a-lopes jiggled
Kangaroo kindness keeping
Leisurely lions laughing
Merriment mesmerized monkey marines
Never notorious, nevertheless, nefarious
Octopus ostracized owls, ostentatiously,
Preventing Porcupines putting prickles precariously in patrons.
Quietly and quickly
Resuscitating rescued rabbits
Savagely sustaining simple seriousness
Totally terrorized
Underneath unique
Verbose velocity
Which worried
‘xtra ‘xtraneous
Zipping, zaggy, zebras.
In the increasing constriction
Of government restriction
I offer the following observation
Of freedoms suffocation
Of daily liberties
Savagely curtailed
Of your war on everything
That has sadly failed
Of your attempts to control the masses
Becomes comical as it passes
Many like me question your sanity
Or is it simply blind vanity?
Why is it so important to control the mundane?
Why is power such a treat?
Why relish the suffering at your feet?
Do you really believe
That you’re the “elite”?
I can’t help but laugh at that term
Please forgive the disrespect
As I snicker for effect
To me it’s simply ludicrous
Because you’re such a joke
The masses you seek to silence
Are angry and awoke
I wish to simply confide
That you might want to step aside
Before the masses take you for a ride
To your “unfortunate suicide”
Are you getting the vibe?
Eric (and sometimes not)
The Silence of You
The clock strikes
Another hour gone by
Forever lost
In the darkness of eternity.
The rain falls
Lightly tapping on my window
Softly lapping-
As if it just wants me to listen.
I feel the surge of energy
Run from my head to my toes
My heart racing
My palms sweating.
The sensation of the blade
Cold
Hard
Raw
Makes me shiver.
It runs slowly
Along my neck
Tempting me- teasing
Just begging to be used
I hear the thunder roar
The leaves rustle in frustration
I ruin my fingers along
The handle.
As I dream
Of an imaginary reality
I lose myself for a moment
Consumed with memories
Of You.
I savagely slice my heart
Open
I scream as blood pools around me
Holding me prisoner.
I am lost
In pain
It owns me
To it I am a slave.
As I feel the blackness
Filling my mind
I see your eyes
I feel your heart.
The passion, love
Now untouchable
Then comes
The Silence
The words are spinning, twirling, dancing, laughing
Throwing my imagination into the air, letting it drop with a plop
A rhyming poem? No. That is not what I am in the mood for today.
I glare at my muse. We can surely do better than this I tell her
And I use my snotty voice for she is always messing with me.
Making fun of my missives. Tearing them apart.
She can be a nasty piece of….
SHH! Here she comes now.
Can I help you? I ask her. She is wearing her pink feathered boa.
It’s got glitzy silver sprinkles, and she tosses them onto my desk.
If we are going to write, let’s write, she says.
My fingers stop typing.
I know better than to cross her.
It was a savagely windy, twirling, whirling day, I begin.
She sticks out her tongue.
At least she did not slap me.
I am feeling like a winner.
Let’s make it romantic, I suggest.
She laughs and cannot stop laughing.
We are not the romantic types.