Best Thralls Poems
This is something other than unsure laced with heavy heart.
I'd love to change my mind, is this where you take charge?
When our play begins, the starring role I'm begging you to take.
Open your eyes, I won't sit around and wait.
Would you instantly be swooned if I could be your tin foil dream?
Would you cook me in a spoon, shoot me right through your blood stream?
A rush that lasts longer than fifteen seconds, a force that beckons for all of your attention.
I want to illuminate the dark corners, where you hide the secrets that border,
The hurt that you and I refuse to admit, the **** that resides far beneath the surface,
Those things that just never quite seem fit and yet we both allow them to exist.
Between a cut and a hole, is there really a difference at all?
Knowing what I know, why do I keep interest in something I cannot control?
She's got what you need and she's got you by the balls,
I have nothing that can compare to her thralls.
But this is just an embellishment of events as seen in my head.
This is my heart written on paper that cannot be read. Maybe if I do it like this, it will make more sense.
I hope you'll let me find solace in you because I know I can do better but I don't want to believe it is true.
This where I lose rhythm and ask you to lie and tell me you'll do anything, but darling don't take the time to try.
From once lush green, vibrantly alive
This dorsiventrally flattened leaf never dies
It's fragility, nursed to allow ~
Such patience from the artist abounds
By blade and pin such creativity thralls
Again, it's decaying membranes reach out and touch
From the tree of life, this leaf lives on
.
Written about the craftsmanship of Omid Asadi
whom creates amazing Art from leaves.
Today I sat and pondered and closed my eyes to see
On a sunny island I strolled, knowing what's ahead for me
Closer to the beach hut I could hear our favourite song
Through the louvred doors I go, as I catch a scent so beautifully strong
It's emanating from the bathroom, amidst a plume of moisture, steam
Slowly I reach my destination as I continue into my dream
My eyes peer through scented vapours, catching a shadow within my sight
Lavender surrounds two souls as I catch shapes of pure delight
My love, my maiden, my Queen, having exited from her shower
Thralls the man in me attracted by her womanly power
She glimpses she sees I'm there, her towel is offered to I
Closer we move to each other as my hands wander to dry
Her nape, shoulders and back touched as if by an angels wings
The song that lured me earlier, my heart now joyfully sings
To her hips I reach, whilst to my knees I fall
My heart now racing faster, my hands in drying sprawl
To me she now graces, azure blue eyes look down at me
Beauty in she abounds, through loved eyes my love I see
Crimson lips allure to mine, as if in magnetic trance
Naked we are, touching brushing, we enter into dance
Two bodies in tender abrasion, hands in adventurous roam
Alluring desires excite freely in our sunny island home
The old King took to the battle
and leapt into the fencers fray.
“Noblesse oblige” his cronies cry.
“Our King will save the day!”
He was a bull to their gazelle
nae a fair fight, nae by half;
he'd fight just to see the thralls fall
he ‘d pierce those peacocks for a laugh!
His continence was so fearsome.
His two burly arms a rare threat.
Some would nae fight His Majesty
nor fight of his knightly get.
“How is this fair?” the Lord’s lament.
How well met can these odd match be?
“Unless, of course, ‘twas nae ‘bout fair
this was nae called noblesse oblige!
In heavy plate with blade and pole
with broadsword, He’d bested the field;
so, as the fencers broached this game
the wiser lads all chose to yield.
They would nae raise a blade to him
nor would they save for him a dance;
many a brave man whispered there
and the bolder looked on askance.
“Let Him have the day! We’ll nae play
Noblesse oblige, my fine backsides!”
And, so the fancy fencers fell
like pretty harp seals on the tide.
There are many a way to win
and sure, many a way to loose.
Yet ‘tis the metal of the man
shows in the way that he chooses.
Racking, fracking, fricker dickers -
there it goes again stirring all my inner jitters;
my pc, tablet, phone and friends
blank screens locked immovable in place again
while tweets and texts disappear in phantom space.
Techno blab excites me
and the mesmerizing call invites me
but searching play on the blank display cueing
frustrates my mind to forget just what I'm doing
and at my fingertips the troubles brewing.
It's a slam dunk OCD call
to play games and tweet within the web thralls
lost in wavelength microwave wifi
while communication stalls and dies
and that's the truth, no lies.
Curse you internet!
this clock on the wall, echoes through my heart's lonely walls
it laughs in seconds the pulsation of years long past
its hands stroke the circumference of my soul it thralls
it writhes against my memories in an outward cast
if only to rewind this torturous menace of time
step rearward beyond the past where you claimed my weary soul
to love you less, free my heart's chambers from this frozen clime
reclaim myself from your shadowed clutches and emerge whole
would pathways of my strides vestige less in absence of you
or become aberrated in the distance of time's beat
would my soul escape darkness and linger in brighter hues
or remain lost in the echoes of this clock's haunting bleat
October 8, 2019
If only we could turn back the hands of time Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
I painted portraits of you in my heart
till' dark clouds allowed pouring rain to fall
washed away paintings hung that fell apart
to leave my heart's chamber an empty hall
my love for you held portraits that I hung
now a darker place with its vacant walls
where my love's dust becomes a wormwood dung
when love died slowly in pain-filled thralls
this chamber, this hall, now a silent place
that's shrouded by a darkness of morass
when vanished portraits left a lonely space
where doors are closed and no one may trespass
For all my painted portraits I will weep
When I find them in my dreams when I sleep
verdant horizon
stretching turquoise flowing thralls
sands of time accept
proud in stand in pose we do
Palawan attracted love
x.x
I'm once again awake in this inside out state
Never confused because I know I'm mixed up
Is it me I see in viewing blurred investigate
Has nature mistrued this building a buttercup
I really don't know how I get there, day after day
Is it a giving window that assures my mind thralls
Then I'm where in standing blinding emptiness
Allowed seconds of whom I was when I was total
Glimpsed memories of I seeing images of my past
Faces known years in confusional dark abound
Children I knew last week, names now lost so fast
Not even voices can rebound their previous sounds
I'm now even I don't know, whom now looks at who
This someone who looks back at me can't you see
Darkened silhouettes pierce my blanked see through
Once again awake, in this inside out state see plea
21/11/2015
In this weird game of Kings and Pawns,
Battles are won, battles are lost.
It’s the rich and wealthy who ultimately rule;
While the rest are mere serfs and thralls.
It does not really matter who you are –
Whether lofty or lowly, mighty or czar
Black or white, pauper or star,
Or which side you are on; in this game of life.
You have to leave the stage, you have to die.
And while you rest in the wooden box, you see
the same kings and pawns, now in par
Feeling the same bruises, having the same scars.
she, my eyes now view
trickle, in delightful slide
translucent droplets befall
be that towel true
placing, tracing, gracing guide
her curvaceousness thralls, calls
Written 08/01/2016
our synergy burst
encapsulates she and thee
thralls our loving thirst
.
Hungered fuel I'm in trust
When sensed thralls me
It's, it's driven urge to I
Rocket fuelling me
It's high or low approach
Exciting this in me
I'm in catapult to never
Dying in moderns tree
.
From the beginning of time, are we mapped
This journey that we're on us from the trees
Just where does it all end are we sapped
Whom has won or lost as centuries please
Is it what we dream that's eventually true
What becomes as our evolution thralls
Dreaming helicopters flying through the blue
As we progress with life, our continues fall
Just where are we from, this we all of us
Are we destined from the beginning of time
Caught amidst the explosion Big Bang bus
Will there be a day when we eventually find
Hey,
Do you smell that?
That musky scent
with earthy undertones
leading off to the right.
Slipping into a lope,
as silent as the grave,
I sneak through the trees.
The aroma pulls me along
through the cascading moonlight.
I can feel the hunger growing,
snapping at my innards
like a rabid dog.
Crouching behind a low ridge
I spot her
running through the woods,
just a silhouette
frolicking
in the night mist.
The moonlight scrolls across
her smooth form
like living tattoos
writhing along
her supple body.
Daring not to breathe,
I creep
within reach
of my lovely dryad,
keeping downwind.
I lash out
hamstringing her.
She releases an erotic whimper
as I lick her blood
from my claws
and it sends
quivers through my mind
awakening a stronger
Crimson lust.
I deliberately pace around her
drinking in her scent.
Then just as my hunger
is about to drive me into a frenzy
she says
"Will this wolf offer
me his throat?"
Time slows
and the moon turns red
as I subconsciously
hold out my neck
leaning down towards her.
She lushesly
sinks her teeth in
tearing through skin and sinew,
blood spraying into my face
while showering down on her,
driving me
to howl my lust towards
the heavens.
When she stops
feasting on me,
Her
all covered in my blood
and bits of my flesh,
Me
a little weakened
and excited,
I ask her
"What will you do
now that you have part of me
inside you?"
She seemed to consider this
for time eternal,
with the moon
glistening in her eyes.
Slowly she turns towards me,
a smile on her lips,
and says
" Why I will howl my feelings
into the night,
soaking the world
with your thralls.
May you have pitty
on their souls
As I have
on yours."