Best Slinking Poems


Premium Member Once Upon a Colorado Christmas

Splendor of soft shoulders
caressed by sinking sun
Out my window the western slope
of the thick coated Rocky Mountains
Once upon a clear cold Colorado Chrstmas 
purple brushed horizon flecked with gold
filled my picture window 
Mesmerized I stood staring
at this huge canvas hung in the Louver 
God's and goddesses swirling about 
in a swath of psychedelic clouds
refracting the colors of slow dimming light
Mt. Olympus in my living room
I was seventeen living in a dream
high up in the sandstone cliffs
carved out by the west's Mississippi 
Nature, sweet mother of mine, purging
my childhood nightmare with sunsets
mountains, rivers and springs
On the banks of that fat river below
I listened to nothing but hope
Even in the echo of crackling ice
Even when she froze everything still
she made life beautiful 
Never ever did she
punish my anger 
but kissed it away with her love
with forests, flowers, birds and trees
She gentled my soul when I held her hand
and took me back from the jails and hospitals 
every time I ran
Seventeen, fresh from my last disaster
Christmas Eve eight hundred miles 
from expulsion and friends I missed
my dreaded return to the last place I left
There she was…
… arms spread clear across the valley
to hug me… her renegade child
My mother, bless her heart--
--wasn't happy to see her headache return
But my "other" mother was.. yeah
I took refuge in the painted cliffs and canyons that surrounded me 
and when I came down to the valley floor 
I would stop before the bridge 
and walk down to listen to the big water's mighty roar…
It never stopped rolling and never ran dry 
despite all obstacles 
and neither did I
My savior doesn't have a birthday
but I will celebrate my hope in "His"
Just that warm sun 
slinking like a coyote
over the western horizon 
that Christmas Eve
is all the hope I'll ever need
Categories: slinking, christmas, hope,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Kind of Blue

Kind of Blue…

Slinking into a still hue of blues 
Haunting trumpets dart in and out
Like taxi horns in freeloading traffic
And cling like silk onto full figured rifs 
When winsome modal notes wear sleek cobalt 
 Where soulbeats throb from smoky bars 
Blue moods of so what
Sway like humid lovers on rainy nights
 To the clink of ice in shot glasses
  And afterhours shades of whisky, sweat and old scotch -
Smooth as muted cool 
Luxurious tracks of indigo distilled intimacy 
 Stretch without strict resolutions
Improv exhales unashamed sketches
Of empty barstools and empty arms
As modes of blue undress into serendipity
When newborn sounds wrap limbs around
 Old scores of stale melodic staves
Steady bass lines underscore mellow beats
 Unperturbed ruminating pulse,
Slow percussive murmurs 
Like rhythmic subways of all blues slow walking 
With mystic measures of ebb and neap attraction -
A perpetual kiss slides slow into a kind of blue.
Categories: slinking, blue, music,
Form: Free verse

Pluto

tabby cat slinking
around the house, looking stealth
pouncing and prancing

lover, neat and sweet
purring for a stroke around
his silky neck
Categories: slinking, cat, pets,
Form: Haiku

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Sly Fox

slinking through the woods
finding camaraderie only from wolves

heartless, relentless, self-absorbed
predator of the vulnerable

devouring her soul
crushing her hopes
devastating dreams
finding satisfaction when she succumbs

the fox knows nothing of love
seeks but conquest
revels in despair of victims

takes her carcass down to the river
washes purity from her tormented soul

she saw feigned promise in his eyes
the fox, the wolf, the demon

who devastates
devours
crushes
while grinning with satisfaction
Categories: slinking, introspection
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Slithering Tides of War

War crime trials had come and gone
And Nuremberg became old news
But there were some who would escape
They packed their bags, with no remorse
Changing names, and hid away
They had shamed the course of history

They had slithered through the cracks of time
from the lowest form of man's intent 
There was no gray, just black or white
The blackest black defaced the way
humanity was meant to be

Some trails of slime don't wash away
As years went by,  new wars ensued
Old men, by now, like snakes reside
in masquerade, and false pretense
while rejoicing in the news today,
in hopes cold crimes have been forgot
But cowardice remains alive
A holocaust of man's design

Humanity must not give up 
And wickedness will not command
For justice seeks its own reward
and somehow fate will have its day

We pray these reptiles spent their years
slinking low, like snakes, they are, 
haunted by the ghosts of war , thinking of the millions gone
thinking of the things they've done…sinking deeper in the grave
spending days, while drinking fear,  
instead of drinking coffee in the cafés of Berlin


___________________________________________________
1/28/16   
Inspired by Contest: "A Last Line Prompt"
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Categories: slinking, evil, holocaust, war,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Dark Night - City Streets - For Contest

Dark Night – City Streets


A dark night on city streets
soft yellow glare of streetlights
outlining slow creepy things.

Scents of cooling kitchens
and boiling excitement
tickled the deepening thrill.

A rising tremor of frightful glee
slinking through the streets
mocking the shadows lies.

City streets crawling with anticipation
window shades peeked through
doors held ajar in preparation,

For they would come – as  always
on this, their night, utter again 
the monsters mantra – Trick or Treat.

Flow in wicked waves of want
seek the lowly sustenance
of the sticky sweet tribute.

Short, weary legs of demons
tire easily - and slowly
retreat to comfort of warm lairs.

Window shades are straightened
doors closed and locked
streetlight shadows calmed

As monsters – cleaned and preened,
hugged and nuzzled in their nests
sleep, and dream, of Halloween.



10/24/2015
Categories: slinking, city, halloween,
Form: Free verse


Winter Wind

Viciously, she draws a blade 
of steely cold across my throat,
driving the warm breath from my lungs,
leaving me gasping on the road;
then, with a flip of frost glazed hair,
she whirls around the brick-walled turn.

Caught so in her freezing frenzy, I shudder,
apprehensively pulling my woolen comfort close,
knowing she is slinking even now
back round the block to pounce again,
prowling ice wolf, sharp fangs bared.

A bullying beast all day long,
she pushes nice people aside,
but in the morning we shall wake
to find her raging ceased;
she has gone and quietly left
a field of down about our feet.

Copyright, August 29, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories: slinking, wind, winter,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Chilled Dawn

She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog, 
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand, 
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house, 
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago. 
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,  
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim. 

       nor'easter winds                                                roll top shoe box...
      splinter the silence..               --                     debutante' caught in amber
        a cataract view                                                   frozen sepia  

Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily,  she polishes the cold glass, 
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime, 
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.  
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes, 
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement. 
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water, 
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow. 




__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"
Categories: slinking, dark, death, farewell, loss,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Wisdom a La Sophie

 Wisdom à la Sophie
----------------------

Behind calm mind can come a fear,

So conquer it, and sprightly.

A fear must not despoil your year.

Quick, quell it.  Live your life quite lightly.



1/2/2019

"Fear is a slinking cat I find beneath the lilacs of my mind." 
- Sophie Tunnell
© Julia Ward  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: slinking, inspirational, wisdom,
Form: Rhyme

The Coyote

Gray brown coat hidden by the dark
slinking through each stark shadow
a lone howl caught and repeated
they hunt together this night
tracking their prey with sharp noses
following a rabbits track



For the Contest "Night Creatures"
01/18/15
The Coyote #3
By Linda Rutherford
Categories: slinking, animal,
Form: Verse

Redemption

Redemption 
She slowly uncoiled her gray streaked hair that fell to her waist. She removed her 
spectacles to see more clearly the windswept icy snow clinging to the branches. A 
pause, settling something deep within; then her gaze shifted to me.
I reached out, but found my reach was frozen, too stiff to touch her. For if I touched 
her, the burden we shared would lapse and slide away, slinking off to be buried, 
uncoiled under the ground.
A pinched, dour expression settled her features into a mask that would never 
betray the inner darkness which created a shadow of an existence. A mask that I 
must wear as well, to ward off the hopeless life within me, growing every moment of 
the day, days upon days retreating into the too long nights, hopeless to survive in 
the world we have created, together as “want” and “ruthlessness”.
“I carry no idolatries, no false hope.” A breath are these words as I receive them, 
knowing they are too bold to give forth a safe humility.

 The nurse, starched clothing as stiff as her countenance, paused, a look of 
condemnation briefly shadowing her face, the sun passing in and out of the clouds. 
She could not help herself. No matter the role we are chosen to play in this world, 
we are not free of a deeply flawed human nature, ice softening dangerously on a 
winter’s pond. I turned away.
I  came to hours later, the rejected life in me  gone, a searing through flesh never 
immune to a free will taunting, tearing the fabric of life so fragile. I would not cling. A 
passing briefly witnessed, a single brown leaf blown by the window in the darkened 
room where we sit for tea, hopes slowly elapsing like the sea waters
receding.
Tomorrow we can only envision; today we must let go of a part of us we will never 
again possess. A coursing through the veins of life no more, we push, and push, an 
existence wishing to sink into the yawning chasm of what is unknown and coming 
for us.
Categories: slinking, angst, life,
Form: Prose Poetry

Cinnamon Sugar Sand..

The sun glitters on  the seas smooth surface viewed high  from a hilltop 
Light blue and  pink wrinkles shimmer irredescently  on  the ocean's skin.
Cinnamon sugar sand lapped and soaked by effervescent lemonade froth
Purple fairy  floss sponges  entwine with different size orange cone shells 
With outgoing waves Bubbles stream from the crab holes like champagne 
A symphony of ocean sounds  rumbling thunderlike  echoing hissing foam
crashing waves to the splishing , splashing, fizzing sounds of dissipating 
 froth incoming and outgoing the translucent blue sea like a fresh soda.
On the pier  the tangerine sunset reflects on the deep green glassy water...
Sea breezes blowing a cooling wind Bristling breeze  Murmmering ocean 
The cliffy hillsides carve a steep stairway to yet another hidden beach..
Like jewels dotted on the sand , these beautiful sea-rocks and shells
sit,   it seems untouched ,  lay softly embedded in the damp sand.
This  beach also yeilds  thick, green seaweed  and fossilised sponges .
Every beach has its own special seaweed , unique shells and rock shapes.
From the roadway  the dusk descends a cat  on  the beachside curb
As the light fades two more cats quietly  emerge from the shadows..
Quickly slinking out from the hollows, nooks and crannies more cats appear..
In the space of a few minutes the beach road is teeming with felines
Out of the darkness a car approaches to join this mysterious meeting.
A woman steps out of the car with parcels and the cats crowd around her..
Categories: slinking, childhood, nature, sea, uplifting,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Life Lesson: Tale of Two Cities - When Villains Prove Heroes

A barrister tottering through alleys of London,
  Alcohol-shamed when espied;
Slinking home at four in the morning,
  To a pillow of tears never dried.

Sidney Carton's the wretch whom others denounce,
  He groans at his puffy, ruined face in the mirror;
Daring not to yearn for dreams long abandoned,
  Departed down whiskey-dulled rivers.

Still from eye's corner notes he the resemblance
  To erstwhile hero, Charles Darnay:
That dashing Frenchman who's captured the heart
  Of the woman for whom Carton secretly prays.

So, milking that resemblance for all it is worth,
  Carton offers up his life, brutish and mean,
Inserting his own head, instead of Darnay's,   
  'Neath the knife of 'Madame Guillotine.'

When sure of morality down here on Earth,
  We suddenly uncover confusion,
Villains prove heroes and heroes mere villains:
  Is Certainty but an Illusion?
Categories: slinking, addiction, confusion, hero, literature,
Form: Rhyme

Eve Captured

The following was based on an iconic picture of Mandy Rice-Davies by David Steen. Rice was infamous for being part of the 1963 Profumo  political scandal.



The sun sets and so do inhibitions.
 Rising even as darkness falls, 
Vices murmur in cajoling tone;
Whispering of delights to behold; 
Slinking and sliding like satin 
Off a debutante's back, 
Seemingly innocent, 
As she gazes with baby blue wonder 
Amidst fine white linen. 

Wholly carnal expectations of the night 
Play across lips that won't melt butter, 
but can steam a man's thoughts, 
and wring him dry with a breath. 
Softest pink, slightly curved 
They draw laser sharp focus 
Of fantasies not fully formed. 

The pose of an ingenue 
Awaiting the brush strokes of Goya 
to capture her pearlescence, 
Or, perhaps, the lenses of Nemoy and Steen
(Or is it the lips of a lover?) 
For a touch of immortality-- 
An angel from heaven 
With a touch of the devil. 

She is Temptation 
Teasing with her bountiful fruits; 
Coveting your visions. 
She's every male fancy; 
My passion's dark reality-- 
Captured. 
There's a reason the fall of 
Darkness is called Eve

- 
Here is a link to the picture:
http://fp.famousfix.com/p32233192/mandy-rice-davies/p275266
Categories: slinking, celebrity, dark, desire, passion,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Cat Paws

Poetry drips from cat paws
Out of drowsy sonorous sleep
Through the green slit
Of a blinking eye
That alone shows a profound
Consciousness
Of environment, and world
Creeping up in its fawn colored grass
To pounce from nowhere.

This cat that I cannot surprise
Takes me like play rag
Toy or rat
In its dripping mouth
And I going limp
I have heard the dog moaning too
While she walks above the roof
Looking down with a subtle smile.
The dog curls on the mat
Ignoring the majestic movements
I cannot shake the claws.

Cougar slinking through crevices
Of boulders forgotten by flood
Puma leaping through the fluid light
Panther crouching
At the edge of night
Tiger forever burning bright
Lion in the caterpillar stage
There is a story in every rage
Cats cuddly cute unwind
Into vivid sheets, poetry dripping
From their tender paws.
Categories: slinking, on writing and wordsdog,
Form: Free verse
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