Best Tarring Poems
SHALL WE DANCE
Shall we dance, as two snakes encircling one another,
A bite to the strike, whom draws the first blood of
Passions bitter poison.
Venomous vipers, engaged in a twisted game of hidden desires,
Shielded by golden bands of confinements vows of promise,
Yet yielding under the guise of the serpent’s folk tongue.
Reptilian lovers Intertwining, beneath the light rays of the
Elliptical moons illumination, deceiver’s side slithering,
The truth of reality’s harsh dawning to come.
Desert tempest creatures, crushed under the swelling
Sand storms of destiny, rising in the winds rip tidal shift
Of exotic’s throngs of passion, then dashed upon the
Rocks of calamity’s destructive force.
Behold the skins of shame, we’ve shed in this our lost
Garden of paradise called Eden, as we descend limb
By limb, unraveling, retanggling, in a mutual enticement’s
Partaking of the unripen fruit, in this the harvested
Orchard of deceit, and lies of pleasure spoils.
Rattling’s bad to the bone species, are these
Deceiver’s dwelling under the moonlight,
Loves vanquished, by passions burnt embers
Of lusts cold blooded flame.
Veracity’s fiercest retile's in mortal combat
With their human hearts, or their raw physical
Basic instincts, the animal within themselves,
The beast of desire, exposing the coiling in raptures
After glow of the exotic.
In the emerald eyes of the snakes flashing, these
Are the transfixed, paralyzed prisoners of loves
Passionate vipers, the cursed of the forbidden.
Poisons intoxicated figures, silhouetted in the red
Moons seduction zone, he the hooded king cobra,
And I his empress taipan of the orient.
Glittering do our scales of temptation, damnation,
Oh but to die in this incoilment’s display of eternal
Abandonment, a climatic apex of poisonous predators,
Ripping, tarring at their bare exposed fleshes
Atonement, unsheived are these carnivores
Of passion.
Shall we dance, as two snakes encircling one another,
A bite to the strike, whom draws the first blood
Of passions bitter poison.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
SHE IS LADY ZOYA
From rich bucket bills of grandeur bliss
Dawns wobbling chills from cruel treachery
Harsh is the murmur of the night, my Lady
Has Aidos spang slain as disgrace ink reign?
Swarm of bees threats and afire the days
Seems... to live life, one must be on break away
Gowns and golds gone like a storm
Tears a rain clouding the seeds of reform
Never-say-die attitude the tarring rock
Ah! The Lady Zoya got this trait in blocks
Shut down on countless turbulent thuds
Still, she arise like a Monarch from the mud
Royal blood dance viscous to her veins
But to burlesque shows, she swayed in vain
For her children: Nicholas and Sasha.
Her picturesque-like the late Princess Diana.
Huge fire almost killed her children
She changed. Later became, a fashion designer
Simon Hirsch saw a diamond from a spread of roughs
He married and dressed her in lovelier stuffs
The tambourine music of war took her husband life
Penthos again bathe her ever wounded thrive
Yet, love abounds never did she succumb
She strive to strum melodies from the crumbs
________________________________________________
**Zoya Konstantinovna Ossupov is a Russian countess,
a young cousin to Czar Nicholas II during the Russian revolution and World War I..
Terms:
Aidos: shame, can range from a sense of respect
Penthos: grief, suffering
©
9:38pm; November 11, 2014
Bow the great dragons, unto the mighty,
Ruler under heaven.
The divine master's iron heel, lies upon the
Serpents neck.
For brilliance illusion a golden throne shines,
Blinding those whom refuse to see the truth.
The trail leading unto the river of blood,
Streaming across a ruined country side.
Striking powers scepter against angers,
Weakest point his own peoples innocent
Beliefs.
How did this tyrant usurper create such,
Beauty with arrogance strangle hold??
A rampaging tiger tightly grappling,
All ends of a concord nation.
Tarring it's inner seams until it bleeds,
Internally leaving it unable to breathe.
Push wide the ancient gates, and behold,
The forbidden city of crimson red.
Sky pillars an archway, holding seemingly,
Up the very heaven's themselves.
In awed amazement beneath the great steps
Of China towards Beijing’s southern most edge.
Lies a glittering palace, of opulence greedy design.
Honor bound at royal bidding's commend,
Living china dolls, porcelain ladies of finest
Quality, his majesty’s playthings.
Green emerald eyes, flash enticing mortals,
To venture beyond safety's threshold.
Meet certain doom for those whom,
Trifled between temptations desire to satisfy,
Lusts insatiable thirsts.
Or honors sacred trust between master and servant.
The lion guards his holy temple ready to strike,
With sharp talons drawn.
Drinking the blood of his vanquished enemies.
But falls unto shame as blackness vail descends
Casting his dark soul unto the four winds of
Destiny.
Even in deaths wake, split by thunder, and
Lightning’s mighty quake.
Doesn't the poised hood cobra lie in wait
To protect this his sacred garden,
In the land of the rising sun.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Stevie was a city boy,
He wore an old school tie,
His life was full of sex and booze
And other things you buy.
He occupied a penthouse
That overlooked the Thames
And plastered it with modern art
To overawe his friends.
But one night in a taxi home
When chatting to the cabby
The latter asked our hero
Whether he was really happy.
Now Stevie wasn't prone to
Letting others take the piss,
So he smashed the cabby's lights
And drove his car into a ditch.
But the violence didn't kill
The mem'ry of the thing he'd said;
"Are you really happy?" was
Still buzzing round his head.
So he popped along to Harley Street
With his philosophic woe,
Slipped a doctor fifty quid
And screamed 'I need to know!'
The doctor nodded kindly and
Reached under the desk,
From where he raised a felling axe
And chopped off Stevie's legs.
While tarring up the stumps the
Doctor said 'You might feel crappy,
But you'll have a clearer mind when
Someone asks you if you're happy.'
Harsh winds blow from a baron frozen land,
Of ice and snow.
Exhaling Nordic gods breath a chilling mist
An eerie foggy vapor creeping along the
Waters aquatic edge.
Rages angry seas lap against the wooden
Hauls as battle harden men brace for impact
Waves crack tarring asunder splinters oaken shell.
Yet these Icelandic warriors laugh at death,
Savoring it's flavor, and relishing their own bloods
Taste upon salted lips.
The devils seed lives within them, these
Barbaric conquerors known to history as the vikings
By Thor’s mighty hammer does strike thus,
Against the anvils rough hewed edge.
Sparks fly igniting thunder and lightening below
Splitting apart the very heaven's themselves,
Odin exposes a distant horizons far off shore.
Hear the oarsmen drumming, a pounding,
It's hastening beat the inner heart of this vessel
Foretelling hells army will soon arrive,
At early morning highest tide.
Whom shall stand after this storm hits land fall.
The sword unsheathed will take vengeance fill
With it's blade dipped an ink well of blood.
No treaty signed can stop history's mighty wrath
Feel hot Norse breath upon your neck oh roman.
Seek thy brothers kinsman’s council for
Safety’s sake alone.
Fears children hide beneath a gray cloak of innocence.
Illusions shelter of falsehoods arrogance delusion,
Believing the walls of roman shall never fall.
A dark shadow is cast over thy world of glittering
Gold a plunders treasure chest a shinning example
For glistening ripening to fill ill gotten
Gains empty hauls.
What price to pay for lies deceit, it's brilliance
Calls forth a trumpeting, a sounding for
Deaths comforting.
Valhalla gates open wide, to welcome
Vanquished heroes unto the neither world.
While Romanian drink deeply from deaconesses
Bloody cup.
The Vikings sing a victory song and voyage on
And Odin smile down upon his people
With pride's honor restored.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
SELAH
As the sharp rays of sunlight slowly sliced
through the tinted tarring clouds
sculpting away the web of darkness of night
I broke off a piece of time and used it
to scrape away the corrosion of agony
from the heart of my mind
and resuscitated my eroded faith.
Today I will open dusty luggage of creativity
and pull out wrinkled war worn words of creation:
etch ebony emotions of long lived life
onto refined pulp of trees; weave soul stirring songs;
mold scented petals flowering peace and love;
and feel the breath of God warming my serene sweet soul
as He feathers the nest of my pregnant poetic mind. Selah.
Poor Swan Named After Trump
Trump lied and told another story
In each category and got the glory
Told bunch of bologna about alimony
Orange hair wore around in a Tony
Without teleprompter that is gory.
Personality centers around possessive
Also is compulsive and obsessive
Lesser of two evils he always knew
As well as many more and quite a few
Sure is such a horrible way to live.
Trump never gives and always will take
And not admit he made a mistake
Idiot belongs in asylum for the insane
Which we all knew pure and plain
Experience into a movie he would make.
Trump's mouth flew with animosity
Can't imagine him having generosity
In psychology course they did forbid
Terrible super ego and a horrible id
Instead he took course in pathology.
Likes tarring people apart and things down.
Trump became a fool who is fastidious
His bright orange hair is really hideous
And wears his long tie below the belt
With beer bottles people want to pelt
Does think his daughter looks delicious.
Jim Horn
Contract hey
Santas on the thunderbox,
Contract given to George Knox,
He bid 20cents a tin ,
To bring the crappy nightsoil in.
Crumbob poo had made his bid,
He only had 14 kids,
25 cents a tin was it,
undercut by another half wit,
Great farting in your underjocks,
when Tarring the tins for the thunderbox
Moral of this story crude,
Contracts won by the lower dude,
How to force the wages down,
Come in sucker it’s your frown
The system has you screwed…
Don Johnson
This culture worships figures from the bank,
A greater number’s bliss, a lesser’s woe,
Their net worth values total statements blank,
Deposit dough, withdrawal the gilt-less doe.
The stagnant meek are poorly left reviled,
While current vice is rightly rich and cherished;
These souls by tarring business pitch defiled,
Material parish, spiritual perish.
Corruptive rule of chairmen’s despotism
Proves costly prized, which masses ill afford;
It’s dated back to churchmen’s nepotism,
When bribery bought indulgent sin’s reward.
If humble virtues prey on blood and leech,
The vicious balms of Mammon’s profits preach.
4/24/24
I've played plenty
On my conscious life weighed heavy
I have to stay ready
Then aim steady
Obstacles I will face many
Can't give ground or let them take any
These snakes pesky
Often they petty
Life can get way deadly
One big crazy medley
That sometimes became sketchy
After turning strange and messy
When it all begun
At first it seemed fun
But now I constantly need one
Its like a giant re run
As if it all means none
I just want the deed done
Too much green buds
Turning to weak lungs
Coursing through my veins is beast blood
Surging like an extreme flood
Causing me to eat bugs
Then overdose on these drugs
Because I just need love
I don't care what she does
Still secrets swept under antique rugs
Continual self centered greed
Across the seven seas
It never seems
I have more than I could ever need
I just cant let it be
Even for better means
Militia troops
Involved with religious groups
That have ties to wicked roots
Still tricking youths
How can I believe we all pay the cost for a man picking fruit
Hard to say if they're giving the truth
When there's no living proof
Just some mark or trinket found by a shipping route
It was settling
But people couldn't stop meddling
Now too late for regretting things
The same can be said for back peddling
It's continued developing
I do not look forward to the hell it brings
The ground trembling
Buildings leveling
The noise is deafening
It's as they've described a reckoning
Might as well be my death sentencing
This is menacing
All this wrestling
With what I continue questioning
Life doesn't get easier, I forgot mentioning
Sick of the concept of time, quit threatening
Like my life is on a clock, it's unwelcoming
Why do lives get regarded as second string
Y'all should be ashamed for tarring and feathering
Still you give yourself too much crediting
Quit all your beckoning
You're really just heckling
Slowly disassembling
Yet still a nestling
Playing on uneven ground, hardly ever leveling
Eventually will or won't make sense of things
She was something soft on the eyes something to mend his broken heart
tarring down everything she had built , was that his plan from the start.
guns were pointed and bullets were shot
he than soon realized that everything she had offered can not be bought
She picked up the broken pieces and thought to try again
thinking maybe he will love me if I tried to be a better friend.
He figured out she wouldn't give up and would continue to try
that she dropped everything in her life and he was the only thing in her eyes
miserable nights turned into unproductive days
she continued on with this cycle not questioning how she stays
Her expressions became empty and her friends started to worry
always the same answer with a smile as her eyes would get blurry
The bruises left on her heart became to show on her skin
stopped going out in public as much and people would ask where she's been
the truth couldn't come out so her lips formed more lies
how could she explain that this is all caused by just one guy..
He would tell her he loved her and that she was the one
that when things would get better it would go back to being fun
months went by and her stomach started to grow as the weeks went
by and more and more bruises continued to show.
She sat him down one night and stared into his eyes
She said " once this baby is born I will say my goodbyes"
He laughed in her face knowing she would never leave
that even if she did she would come back from the grief.
The bigger she got the more they would fight
now her soul seemed broken and her light not so bright
The due date came and she gave birth to their son
made secret plans to pack their bags and just run
the words he spit got worse and the punches got harder
She tried to keep in line just the way he had taught her
The love she once had turned into a large amount of hate
endless nights of worry wondering if this is her fate
she refused for her son to witness this any longer
that she would gain the strength for both of them and be stronger
another night but this time he came back to no one around
couldn't smell anything and didn't hear a single sound
She never looked back and slowly started to learn how to smile
her son needed her and he's needed her for a while.
She had taught herself a valuable lesson that sometimes its worse to stay
because living each day in misery just isn't the way.
the prayer:
Quickened once, this seed uncrucified reclaims
Against the dessication of faith in my drought
And root dry tortures of decomposing doubt,
Against it all, a sudden impulse in the kernel flames
Thanks to my Divine Intervener, sweet love undying
Shattered falls the broken web to free my wings
The lung tarring vice, defeated, can no more clings
I joy in this, from doom and death returning
Sprout me again, breathe in me new a new day fresh
Water me with prayers of thanksgiving still, sun
Me fruit joy and grain, bless me where my Jordans run;
Unyielding Christ, out of thy grace, I rise to love afresh.
the testimony:
And I through travail of night to birth again
Carried you slumberless into faith of day
And I torn and shredded by sin's foul pain
From prayer to prayer wept against decay
Those years, distant, dark, void and cold
Those fears when death yawned wide iron jaws
And you my lamb staggered from the fold
O how I raged at life, and veiled despotic laws
That broke us into splinters with our dreams
I did not see today to sing again, doubts tears
Blinded me, heaven seemed silent to my screams
But today, you give me back my hope of years.
And I was not there to hold your hand, absent
From the cuddling moment my love had planned
And yet, devised by faith, I stood full present
For I am the jar of clay in the Master's kind hand
And you my child suffered it all, to bring me
Back from a superficial walk with love, and we
O let us rinse the skies with praise, let us
Walk, nobler creatures called from a common dust.
celebration:
Give me space to seal a kiss upon an embrace
To pour my joy before your pleasant face
Give me space to thunder with belief and stay
Exiled in ignorance, and clothed in wisdom when I pray.
Letting It fade into the palm.
if only I scrubbed with greased elbow.
Why do I entertain such scorpions
with ebony reflective shells.
I walk to the car looking
excepting to see the previous.
Always seeing it, always believing it.
Time is to heal, but time is the infirmity.
Talking on the phone is pathetic
for this toxic hermitage.
Talking nostalgic day dreams
As you stand dead in front.
Little faith. this medicine can penetrate
I just sit and Slowdrag.
The fly mind, should just sit,
Web kills in struggle.
Sticking to butterfly bones
Killing me softly with my memories.
Look at the chaff palm green.
Some how that does not scare you.
The wiggling insects are force feeding
the fly should just sit.
web of rainbow, but tarring wings.
Messianic Zeal Of This Good Humored Punster...
Without making a
twit tarring buffoon, sans unshackle
irrepressible bone a fide
funny reaction, or appearing
the foolish spectacle
of myself, trying to tackle
a mal hip apropos
prism mirth wells up
inducing me to cackle,
neither explaining any rhyme,
nor giving reason, then busting
out in laughter obliquely
analogous to ramshackle
structure, resultant outcome
from some slapstick
Vaudevillian farcical debacle,
perhaps regarding the heady
beer burr of Seville scene thru
black and white daguerreotype mackle
more or less hazy, gauzy,
or fuzzy warm
feeling in actuality
thinly disguised as
dog gone hackle,
which vicious canine attacks ready
to tear limb bough to limb mitt,
thus luckily handily repair
with accessible spackle
ye kept on yar person, which caper
doth captcha an instantaneous titter
easily confused for
mating call of grackle
giving rise to a raft of songbirds
that incessantly crackle
snap, and pop with...witch sounds
indeed oven eerily
bloody suck'n vampire
bat out of hell cackle.
Other creatures in
the animal kingdom
cane be barley able
to communicate wheat seems
oat rage juice lee wry,
no matter how
much horse sense,
a smart species doth
porpoise lee try
though porcine not
remiss to wallow
in mud as seen high
atop a bridge
abutment over the River Kwai
ah look...a pig in a poke
unable to pry
loose caked mud blocking snout
prematurely ejaculating, an outcry
for help even fishing for small fry
doubling up as
potential best buds
with Englishman such as Dry
den, and/or dear reader
hood doth lamentably cry
claiming this badinage i.e. my
trademark gobbledygook didst render
momentary lapse of
reasonable judgement alibi.
What I wouldn’t give to be the one to put those stars in those eyes.
What I wouldn’t give to end all goodbyes as our love dies.
What I wouldn’t give to take back your heart.
Saying all this is tarring me apart.
Were you even mine from the start?
What I wouldn’t give to end this pain.
What I wouldn’t give to take back the nights you spent with her that still drives me insane.
I’m not asking for a fight.
I’m asking for tonight.
What I wouldn’t give to burn a fire at the end of this candle.
What I wouldn’t give for a chance for our love to rekindle.
What I wouldn’t give to get back what we lost.
I didn’t know being blind would cost.
What I wouldn’t give to get you out of my mind.
What I wouldn’t give to go back and have a chance to find.
What I wouldn’t give to be part in part.
What I wouldn’t give to be sole in sole.
What I wouldn’t give to be one heart.
You are my other half.
That’s why this has to last.
Why are we losing us so fast?
What I wouldn’t give to go back and undo what I did wrong.
What I wouldn’t give to go back and take back a goodbye that seems so long.
Though the years I know when it comes to our love I lost my way back,
But what I wouldn’t give to take it all back.