Best Stalker Poems
With beating heart and dragging feet this dark and soulful night
I stealthily tiptoe past her window hoping - not to see her light
But bathed in luminosity she sits there in full view
My hands go clammy yet again knowing not what to do
My very own neighbour stalking me totally blows my mind
Blatant betrayal of trust is not what I expected to find
This person I befriended and in all innocence confided
Her skewed level taken is so atrociously misguided
Why did it go so horribly wrong - maybe I'm to blame?
When did I notice that it had gone way beyond a game?
It was when she started slipping notes underneath my door
Saying she was worried senseless - and couldn’t sleep before
I got home safely - it was fine - and know that she would wait
She loved me and worried that I was coming home so late
This declaration of love albeit sweet makes my skin start to crawl
I should call security to have them a special alarm install
At the door of my porch once again I find a single stem red rose
Bringing perturbations and shallow breath as this agitation grows
A fleeting shred of courage for confrontation I do seek
But just the thought of facing her sends a knocking to my knees
One day it all comes tumbling down when my girlfriend breaks my heart
Waves of sorrow wash over me when I see my love depart
Love is such a fleeting thing and my soul weeps from deep within
Scandalous thoughts I do harbor - of granting my stalker in
Tie the wedding knot - make it taut - cater to our every whim
And into her arms some comfort seek - would it be such a sin?
~ Placed First in Contest~
Contest Entry for ‘STALKER’ -
Sponsored by Silent One -
17th November 2017
Music – ‘Stalker’ by Goldfinger
Hints not taken from countless missed calls,
and no replies to tons of texts.
Still she searches through social media clues,
pursuing like a hunter,
pondering why his green light illuminates.
Investigating google's archives,
she claims to be his number one fan.
She knows the clothes he wears
and the places where he eats.
Downloading images does not crave her fascination.
She follows him like the moon.
Lurking..
Standing at corners, hidden in alleys.
Her binocular eyes preying on him.
He can feel her watching silently.
Hear her obsessive deep breaths,
ensuing his every step.
The sight of her eerie image
is like a million beetles,
crawling under his skin,
driving him insane - controlling his mind.
Her nauseating voice leads to nervous sensations
with outbreaks of panicky perspiration.
His stomach tightens and heart beats violently.
His eyes glare in shock, his body seems frozen.
and all she can say is;
" I do it because I love you!"
Silent One
Simple Musing
7 November 2017
Just a quick example for the 'stalker' contest
The Stalker
She sat quietly in her cottage house
I tried to be silent, not to rouse
She was who she was, serene and my darkest luscious dream
Her heart may be broken, her desires were my theme
A princess from the Celtic isles
I had no words, only wishes
Why if she’d have asked Id have done even the dishes
I followed her heart, soon she shall know
I will disappear like the wind, or ask her to throw
Holding hearts of the ancients in Aix en Provence
I entered her room, like a thousand years before
With a fire burning brightly in my skies
I hold in my hand, my heart, that beats and cries
She saw the depth of the sadness in me eyes
Sword of the Celt, in the river of Loire
I knew her as a girl in a dream long ago
A ghost whom I buried and forever let go
Wasn’t sure she would sense it was me
Running away for love, longing to be set free
Would she long for me now? Would she open her heart?
Darling, with a kiss a new life we shall chart
The battle cry of a lovers pain, drowned with bloodstain
===
A princess from the Celtic isles
Holding hearts of the ancients in Aix en Provence
Sword of the Celt, in the river of Loire
The battle cry of a lovers pain, drowned with bloodstain
romantic dinners
and walks together but she
won't know I was there
Within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright
shadows twist obsidian trees torment,
the cypress writhe in blood moon’s bright delight.
The hunter hides his nascent lust for might
and so the doe flees by man’s bow unbent,
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright.
The cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight,
bedevil not the finer soul, repent,
the destined deed, must feed, man’s plight.
With deadly skill, fletched shaft sheers frosty night.
The horned hart does fall in wonderment,
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright.
And torment flows in drops of crimson sight,
distorting right and light with man’s intent.
The cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight
Into the holy water blood rings light
for life is all and death is but dissent,
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright,
the cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight.
You Are Always on my Mind: A Note From Your Stalker
Today I saw you leaving
I watched you pull away
Then I jumped into my car
And followed you all day
You are always on my mind
You are always on my mind
I love the way you dance
Like no one is watching you
And how you make funny faces
Like your curtains aren't see through
You are always on my mind
You are always on my mind
Tell me…that you'll never cut down your back yard tree
Give me…give me one more chance in your bathroom to peek
And I'll take a little peek.
You are always on my mind
You are always on my mind.
He lurks beside me but never ever talks to me
Always silent but I definitely know he’s there
My shadow … my constant companion
I know he will never leave me until the day I die
09~06~16
I embrace the nocturnal shade
coiled beneath tangerine lamplight
on the corner of the street
in case a certain little lady walks by.
I am ever watchful
in the telephone kiosk bathed in smells of damp
directories, of urine and pubescent vandalism;
silhouetted at the mouth of the
tubeway entrance;
sat in the rusting Lada across the road;
ever watchful,
gaze unwavering, unflinching.
I have perfected the dead-eye stare.
I am the vigilant sentinel.
I am watching you.
Wherever you choose to go I am
mere footsteps away,
dogging your trail.
At the salon I watch your pale tresses
cut and blown dry
through stencilled window glass.
That time I got a lock of your hair.
I like to collect souvenirs.
They bring us closer.
I know you know I am here,
I make certain of that;
dead certain.
I want you to know I am here,
always present
on the periphery of your vision;
live ghost haunting your existence.
The police have made empty threats,
charges of loitering with intent.
Intent to do what, though?
That is the question.
Intent to do what?
It is for me to know and you to discover.
This is the game, my sweet,
the game we play.
I feel your fear when you pick up the 'phone
and no one answers,
only the romance of dead silence;
I can smell your sweat leaking down the line,
taste your breath, sharp and spicy with fear,
burning down the line.
I sense your arousal,
the wetness of your loins, slick
with the lubricant of anticipation,
of desire,
of surrender.
But we do not speak, no,
not yet,
but soon.
Be patient, beloved, be patient as I am patient,
stoic and timeless and patient.
I hear you sobbing, crying down the line,
hear the crystal crash of vodka glass shattered
against the wall. Be patient, calm yourself,
for soon, very soon, we will meet...and
then my intent will become clear... as
clear as those shards of shattered crystal,
my sweet...
It watches it stares
My God it's always there
In the shower, when I read a book
It even gives me dirty looks
NO PRIVACY ALOUD
It moves in malice all about
No hiding, It's there
Even when taking off my underwear
Nowhere to hide, it will not leave
It's moving closer
What could it be?
A confused ex, or an ex friend
I want to be free, IT'S STALKING ME
I can remember when it all began
Ducking behind trees, and the sound of crushing leaves
Sometimes I think it's on my sleeve
It's in my phone, It should go home
Inside my bed, It even crawls inside my head
I want to breathe, I want to scream
I sometimes wonder what it wants from me
I feel its presence, I can smell it's breath
Is as if something crawled from death
I pinch myself when I awake, because I know that this is not my fate
I will not run, I will not hide
I feel this parasite inside
So time has passed, It will not leave,because it holds this jealousy
I want it gone, To feel again
I even feel it when I take a swim
When I rest, It screams at night, I even lose my appetite
Its in my car, under my seats
There's a crazy demon stalking me
When I pray, it lies in wait, just to make me feel its pain, guilt, and low self-esteem
Because I'm not the one it expected me to be
I am Calm, quiet, caring, kind and still
And I refuse to let it steal my will!
I have a porker as a stalker; it keeps following me down the street
I cannot talk to my friends, as it keeps oinking when I try to speak
Doesn’t it have an owner it can go home to, and as leave me alone
Once; I tried to lock it out, but, all it did on me is squeal and moan
And, its weird habit of wearing a tutu and doing its pot belly dance
If it had been potty trained, life would have been sweet, no chance
I had enough of her nicking my bed once she farted I disowned her
I stuck posters up with a photo to see if I could find her true owner
3 months later, and still no reply I started to think along other lines
So I put her on the cover of magazines dressing her up to the nines
It wasn’t long before Porker the stalker, had become a renown star
Now; Porker the stalker owns her own limo, with its own liquor bar
Are you still sticking with it here as the tale gets even more bizarre
She met a prize pig up Ohio who played guitar and was a superstar
It wasn’t long before they got wedded, and had piglets by the score
Where; at long last, Porker the stalker, was not my stalker anymore
===================
Peering at her as she sleeps,
nearing tiers of the devout...
Smearing pleas on the glass as he peeps,
impotent, from the grass. He's about
to unfold the silk memoir he keeps,
and lovingly smooth it out.
===================
She devoted her time to poetry and blogs
Addressing his many nonexistent flaws
As if his was the family, being neglected
While she refused to address his rejection
And became something too sad to even mock
You see, Dawn had succumbed to her invective
Unmedicated and overprotective
But of all the wrong things -
The lies about herself she struggled to maintain
And an impossible dream objective
And so, Dawn rots away
Her own twisted mind's slave
Spending time on a man who will never love her
Of whose affections, she is quite sure
While the ones who do care about her are estranged
She thinks only of herself
And ignores her child's wails
Mocks her husband's needs
She is the epitome of greed
And of failing mental health
Her words against him are an inner reflection
Of the emptiness that has become her own life's direction
She gets more repulsive as she pines away
And her husband is tempted to stray
But she thinks he is a fool to her deception
And most of us caught in her narrative live on
While she babbles like a moron
Taking her hate and lies wherever she can
To try and further convict an innocent man
Oh, what a sad old witch, that Dawn!
I've no clue
how long hes been lurking
in the shadows
ready to pounce
a few days ....
maybe a week
no one knows
yesterday
he took hold
of me
I've tried desperately to fight him off
but
have been powerless to escape
his clutches
now i am trapped
alone in a cell
my stalker
allows me
one visitor ...
he brings
bread, soup and water
No one can tell me
how long i will be kept prisoner...
covid 19
you silent stalker
BE GONE!
I was confirmed covid positive on 6th Nov, i have mild symptoms so far
11/07/21
Peering at her as she sleeps,
nearing tiers of the devout,
smearing pleas on the glass as he peeps,
impotent, from the grass. He's about
to unfold the silk memoir he keeps,
and lovingly smooth it out.
She's the albatross around my neck
The stone in my shoe
The barnacle on my bum
She younger than my mum.
She follows me around the town
And I'm not sure what to do
She even got jealous when a talked to a lady of 92
I didn't want to hurt her feelings
But
I told her she was mad in the head
And why shouldn't she follow
Someone else instead.
With mournful watery eyes
Then to comfort her
I held her in my arms
It's then she handcuffed me
And I heard a police car alarm.
I'd been mistaken for a convict who'd
Escaped from jail
Now I've been here 15 years
As all my appeals have failed.
Just my luck who in their right mind would follow me
I get out of jail next week
I wonder if they will be
A hundred poetry women
Not policewomen following me
Well I can dream can't I.