Best Voracity Poems
A crimson dragon-
fly, Why! never seen one of
those before, here; - my
Beach, these febriled oh-
pressive days, re-bleaching to
a 14Mil-Shill
only "Ernst & Friends"
only know; so I meande
this other, other
tres Yoga place, Ma-
ma & young Swan - Proustian? -
decide to shore, so
smooth, they, as if guide,
tethered below, two Windfanned-
down SnowFeathers, as
from a chapeau, no!
degage` "Dolly Varden"
offered-over for
simple frags of the
bread at hand, some too in a
tossing-up for the
diminutive red-
bill Moorehen in the pecking
water, as hungry
mosqa do their thing
euchre - chancing - flitting a
pluck voracity
against their Lives, this
yet another sad tingle...
and in a new bluff
I fauxstrut from the
Love we breathed... this, another
SatHerday-Sunday.
Categories:
voracity, allegory, animals, introspection, lost
Form:
Haiku
I can see them
Clouds of voracity
Covering my stars
Shadowing my reality
These civilized consciences
Have raped my protest
Have spun my web
I can no longer pacify
The tenacious circle of hate
That daily haunts me-
The deprived race
What is it I longed to be
Where come this aggressive reticence
Why this intellectual lock-jaw
I longed to be an alcoholic
I longed to join in the ecstatic dance
I longed to leap into the unknown
To preserve my ancestral pride
Neither did I know
I had no ancestry
I belonged
Not to the human race.
I could no longer trade
That rotting corpse of ancestry
For a dream
Nor could my voice
Accentuated by gesture
Give sacramental significance
To the ailing corpse
I bled from my wounds
I choked in your bonds
I baked in your avarice
How infinite this unity
Of free slaves!
How therapeutic
This hibernation!
They preached brotherhood
Their god issued
Commandments of charity
Which they conveniently
Reserved for the virgins
The silent majority
These invertebrate disturbers of peace
Must always answer with a nod
To those honeyed phrases
Which phased out moral indignation
Only to usher spiritual aberration
The saints had to turn the other cheek
I resigned from imagining, designing
Protesting and even dreaming
Into the routine of living
Without emotional wavelength-
A kind of unconsciousness
What do you say, brother
Should we take flight to freedom
Flee this intellectual tyranny
And accumulated weariness
Should we indulge our consciences
Can one dream thus
Dream of the miracles
They craned their necks
Dream of the great darkness
The ends of the universe
Dream of the wonderment
Of transcendent realms
Is there anything beyond
This shadowy future
Is there another universe
For the spider?
I queried thus and thus
In my ice-age mind
Whereupon emanated
Vast ramifications
Spinning a web for me-
A universe
Beyond which loomed
Irrational extraneous universes
Was that a miracle
Was that nature
Were those her snares
Perpetually gnawing my reality
Could those questions be answered
With a nod- however studied?
Come individuality
Remove these tenterhooks
Let me leap into a new rhythm
Let me split the capsule
And witness how long
The trip of human triumph.
(Apartheid era stuff)
Categories:
voracity, political, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Invisible figures moving in the mists of time,
Hidden female phantoms, masters of the wilderness
Wild, blending in as chameleons, they are the unseen.
Legend's cryptic tribe.
Maidens veiled beneath mysteries coverlet’s of beauty,
Vanishing, as if a vapors mystic dream, created by ancient
Historic mythology.
But nay the Amazons, were fierce fighting warriors,
Battle hardened women, whom lived by the basic instincts.
Of survival and honor.
Unbridled by the whims of society, no chains bondage,
Could restrain their desire to be free from mans law.
Liberation's winds moistened their lips, and inflated
The lungs of these warrior women.
Nomads raised on the theology, that man are inferior creatures,
To be used as beasts of burden, or at leisure’s pleasure,
Nothing more.
Skilled in the art of war, renowned for courage’s
Unyielding voracity, armored maidens of legend,
And for raw endurance’s strength of will.
Blow the golden horn of victory's challenge,
As the ancient archer thus thread's her bow,
In anticipation of the battle to begin.
Drawn swords at the ready, do you not
Hear their ancestral cry to arms, take
No prisoners alive.
Shield maidens whom answer to know man,
But only the Gods themselves,
Behold they are the Amazons.
Shoulder to shoulder, and back to back,
Shields raised glistening in the sun.
The battle lines are drawn in history,
A fierce fighting force by all accounts
Renowned, to legacy's ancient passage,
For all women to be proud of generations
Forward to come, remember their battle hymn.
Freedom sisters, can you not taste it's
Flavor of liberation, carried on destiny's
Four winds, I'll raise my cup in tributes
Honor unto them, known as the Amazons.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
voracity, beauty, courage, imagination, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
Visions of pain and despair, with horrors of daily life
forced upon the masses through modern
windows of technology.
These images burned into the minds of the
innocent millions of sinless victims oppressed
by today’s tools of extortion by society.
Images so powerful and prolonged within the
soul, they’re toxic to the mind and body
causing you to purge the evils through
pure emotions.
Some images affect the world with disasters
to unbearable to fathom, with hundreds of
thousands sent to the after life, with walls of
water surrounding Gods hand picked for
life after death.
Sinister images seem to over power the exemplary,
and moral images seen through out time as noted
in the calendar with December sixth, and September eleventh, as countless
human beings were visited
by Death.
Weapons of mass destruction sought through
Fat man, and Little boy, that devastated
a country, with the might of the suns power,
in a blink of an eye solely designed to kill
and destroy humanity.
Images of hope so easily forgotten within major
catastrophic events, as the media has a part
so intrusive to this equation of corrupting
the minds of millions with the craft of deliverance
through modern arts of technology.
Society eats and devours this information
with greed and voracity like army
ants to its pray.
Categories:
voracity, history, introspection, life, loss,
Form:
Free verse
Although, being cautious during explorations,
forests generally host intrinsic jeopardy.
Killer leopards mutilate not only people, quickly.
Readily, saving them until voracity wants: Xena; Yaks; Zebras.
12/27/2016
Categories:
voracity, animal, dark, death, food,
Form:
ABC
Rendered your elixir within flowing fire
turned my head till flames got higher
'neath vapors' influence lustfully burning,
imbibed upon insatiable blushed lips
feverish craving ignited darkly melting hours
intoxicated of ravenously absorbed flamings
zealous ardor pulsing beyond desires,
hungry to the bone poured of unrelenting fervor
skin soaked in mania's intensified voracity,
unrestrained cries out resonating wanton tongues
dizzying gypsy soul dripping sinfully impassioned
liquid quenching glow farther impulsive madness,
scent of mounting sensitivity's rush marinating
'neath rhythmical torrid undulations gushing
through every explosively satiated vessel,
breathlessness melded 'tween kindled ascendancy
exploiting drunkenness of volatile ardent spirits
“Drink wine. This is life eternal. This is all that youth will give you. It is the season for wine, roses and drunken friends. Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.”
Omar Khayyám
Categories:
voracity, drink, fire, hyperbole, muse,
Form:
Prose Poetry
What a Hill ov Lies eventually does is avalanche crumble
& depending upon the quality, the voracity,& the audacity
Starts to backwards step, then to seep
The only problem is is that it stains
& has a way of dripping into things it shouldn't
It has a way of becoming heavy with the years
It has a way of carving canyons
Forging waterways where waterways were none
It has a way finding the bottom
You see...what is important to know is that truth,
...Unlike lies
Has it's own special pool it draws from
It is buoyant & beautiful & does not know how to hide itself
It is the seed that grows irregardless of the gardener
Irregardless of it's depth and more important in the dark
It is there that it finds a life
A spirit so undaunted
...That even in the soulless stench of lies
Finds a way to become
It cannot do anything other
Thank God truth, like that small seed,
Will Triumph over the weight of lies
And You
Every time
Categories:
voracity, allegory,
Form:
Free verse
3/10/17
Across the entire galaxy
Areas with high to little amounts of gravity
Places torn asunder from catastrophes
And calamities
Causing widespread agony
Events occured slowly and rapidly
Lifeforms with similar and very different anatomies
Any of which may have experienced tragedy
Art of all kinds, occasionally on tapestry
Those with and without any moralities
Experienced or unfamilar with gadgetry
Before, during and after the first and last majesty
Still to this very day, much considered sacrilege and blasphemy
It's a travesty
Because there is more important things happening above and below canopies
Beside, on and nowhere near any balconies
People obsessed and putting out death threats over another's sexuality
Actions carried out callously
With brutality
On purpose or randomly
Showing no practicality
In all actuality
Movies and games of fantasy
But for now I'm talking reality
Staying in touch with my spirituality
While having a plan and strategy
A true man I'll be
Always there for my family
Regardless of if others relate or are not understanding me
Take care of yourself, and any cavity
Don't let it get worse and turn into atrophy
Relations hostile or having amity
Others battling insanity
Apathy
And/ or displaying vanity
Due to their own mentality
I'd like to become experienced with many different things including alchemy
This was intended to be more than a rhapsody
And written with voracity
By: Dalton Ogletree
Categories:
voracity, poetry, rap, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
Trees of a Dreary Autumn
Arabic poem by: Saad Yassin Yousuf*
Translated into English by:
Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)
========================
At a light
Said to be "dawn" We got to the shoulder of the Sea book;
Our wrecked boats were floating
As wood stained by bloody waves,
Heads of children slaughtered
By the voracity of a false
Prophet, Eyes yearning farther than the kingdom of light,
Wooden pencils robbed of their sun color,
Withered flowers,
Pictures of palm trees, standing
Drunk on the cliff, waving to other banks,
Butterflies that lost their color of light,
Remains of time,
Cut-off- ears and marks of defeat.
A beach shoulder crying over the nests of its seagulls
Mumbled:" A cheap spring
Is what the miracle doves
Have paid their throats a price for its singing!!! “
I loosened the ties for my steps,
But I stood as if pinned to the ground;
I tossed away the moment, in which I bereaved my sea,
And went on flirting with
The fuzz of my dreariness.
The couriers of death,
Still in haze black jackets,
Raised a mast stained with clay mixed in
Oil of desires;
It’s a spring chocked with the blood of flowers,
Smoke of the lost horizon,
Pirates and autumn
Branded with palms
Stained by the blood of a grassy dream
Beneath a cloud of straw
And ashes......
And
Trees
The sap rising in it stopped to green and give colors
To the branches of dreariness.
Oh! How reckoning troubled us
With all that comes with it;
The jars in its coffers
Are full of
Forgotten pains,
Fear of the moment,
Broken wings,
Songs shattered in the voice
Of reed pipes trying to play it,
And days of spring
That turned into
Trees of a dreary autumn.
***
Translation by:
Em. Prof. Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)
USA
March 6, 2013
* Saad Yassin Yousuf is a poet from Iraq
Link t0 the original poem In Arabic : http://www.alnoor.se/article.asp?id=204317
Categories:
voracity, autumn, death, emotions, grief,
Form:
Prose Poetry
SOMETHING BORROWED a M M Phrasis
Enough of ennui,I may I might
the mind is an enchanting thing,senses
do not deceive.Days of prismatic colour
apparations of splendour,things are what
they seem, a mosaic, a prosaic voracity
and verity.
What are years then? Efforts of affectation,
dispositions by angels? No,the past is the
present,a chameleon face of discontent.O
calamity,no swan so fine as the merits of
heredity,let the critics dream in their preciosity
for charity overcomes envy where light is speech.
A phrasis inspired by the titles of Marianne Moore Poems
Listen to me recite my phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro
Categories:
voracity, poetess, poetry,
Form:
Verse
Panic attack, Panic attack
What when where why remedy
of a soul’s splitting in two
Panic attack, Panic attack
The demons too deep hymn one’s own threnody
The devil to he who suffers introduction grins fair adieux
Panic attack Panic attack
Medicine for a malady
for the spirits of anguished weeping few
Panic attack Panic attack
A rose for a bud, a corruption for a fallacy
As is true for the moon is the importance of what one has power to do
Deep breathe, Deep breathe
Parched oasis, dying serenity
Acid in the wound to suffuse
Deep Breathe, Deep Breathe
Within a species capable of mental voracity
one finds the norm repudiating to asperity
For which there may be nothing one can do
except stand two by two
(written sometime during a bleak 2015)
Categories:
voracity, angst, anxiety, depression, lost,
Form:
Rhyme
I drag my life as excess packages
in the bag lady’s cart.
Dropping my ingenuity in puddles behind doorways,
the sleeping cats hiss their start,
interrupted from their dreams.
Solace in solitude has no voracity,
Yet solitude drapes around me it seems,
as cynicism backs up to yellowing pale of mediocrity,
My life flows backward rewinding to the place
found in the innocence of youth.
To the days when wonder unfolded
with temple like aura, a masterful truth.
Truth is no longer a valid argument for me.
As her smile, there are too many interpretations.
Hiding in the folded arms of escape
I cringe with trepidation.
Self confidence seduces me, it fills my cup with excuses.
Then, forced to drink my own despair.
I choke on the words that are not there
and sip the silence mendacity peruses.
Can I have my life again?
Not the politically correct version cloned?
I can say now what I couldn’t say when
on the top floor of Wall Street, I was owned.
© 16 Dec 2010 Charles Henderson
For Paula's "You can say it now' contest
Categories:
voracity, introspectionlife, life,
Form:
Rhyme
A Voyage Where Adventure Must Invite:
Off Mega-Hurts (MHz) - - - - thru Giga-Bites (Gbyte)
And Reboots, Resets and Reduced – Sites
… into CyberSpace’s Secret – Flight…
An Inner Sanctum – Leaving from A Void
of Dreamless Drones or Disposable Droids
whose Mechanical Moves are quite Paranoid
Poised to Replace Super-Hero-Humanoids…
… and their CyberSpace Secrets…
of Convertible – Virtuals – Rushing like Jets
Suggestible – Intellectual – hasn’t Arched Yet
Yes, that’s Conjectural, even a Lamentable Retrospect
… so let’s… get into our CyberSpace’s Secrets-Chest
into Circuitry of Micro-Chips and The Matrix’s Breast
where Modem and Mainframe can Process Trip and Test
and View Monitored Progress and onward Press…
… The Auto Pilot… Tho’ We Should Not Forget
Manual Conversion, is better, when used to Connect
Real People, Who File-by with Knowledge and Respect
Programmed Codes of CyberSpace – Specs
… So May I Journey Into Your CyberSpace?
Let me Scan and Search Thru – Your Data Base
I want more than Information… I Want Interface!
And A Fusion of Feelings and Facts, Fast-Paced!
… Oh, The Complexity, The Intensity, Ingenuity and Affinity…
The Enormity of The Capacity for Sensitivity or Voracity
The Trajectory and Congruency, makes A Sweet CyberSpace Symmetry
Your Beauty and Ability, I must ask, “Boy, Who’s Your D-a-d-d-y!
See, I’m Dropping Crumbs; like Hansel and Gretel
See, I’m All Thumbs; at Gifs and Pixels, at This Level
Seems You’re Still Skipping On Blast-Off-Key (Launch) Pad Missiles
Too Far Away to Hear – My Wavelength, Wonder Whistles…
Come Back! Help me Lift this Artificial-Escape Lid!
Are You ‘Lost In Space’ – Gone Off The Grid?
The Heart of Dark-Matter – ‘Where Have You Hid…
…Your CyberSpace Secrets Amid?...
… What Vector, What Sector, What Intranet
What Satellite, What Planet, Which Parapet?
What Sequence, Star System, Radius, Apex…
Oh, Signal Me From Your CyberSpace Trek!
Categories:
voracity, adventure, allegory, computer-internet, fantasy,
Form:
Light Verse
Ten thousand thoughts a day
It is hard for just one to stay
Speeding around like a runaway train
It’s enough to drive me insane
As I gaze into the abyss that I call my heart
I’m interested in the truth, but getting no remarks
I sometimes try to grasp in a manner unwise
Because these words of lost thoughts are a selfless demise
I will never let negativity suppress my dreams and steal my hope
Without these two how can I exist and cope?
In my thoughts I'm going where there is no fear
Where the spirit is free and near
Only Jesus can ease the misery
There is no more pain and voracity
My mind feels jubilant and relieved
That’s all you have to do is trust in God and believe
Categories:
voracity, faith, hope, memory, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Seductions of Sin
With the lusts of the world:
do I thee; threaten more?
Is this what the world has to offer;
since its originated defiance?
That set the scene for this world;
to attest and set afire,
for the rest of 'sin' to complete with such desire!
The call is strong in sin here:
am I too weak;
to resist such pleasurable temptations!?
Is it that, vainglory, do set in from the laws of God,
do I shame myself for the dishonor to self-control?
That 'sin' of the lusts now turns to otherworldly desires;
that the dark spirit brought to surmount humanity!?
Voracity, of man for the embellishing of the world,
is it glamorized in thy eye?
Being envious of what others do have;
only does it dispassionate me too?
And does, avidity, bring on our destruction;
from the wraths and vainglories of man?
I have a chance to survive when darkness has swallowed up;
the virtues that have been set out in front of humanity?
To battle, the end, when that day does it come;
is to bring great sorrows upon the world?
Categories:
voracity, dark, deep, god, humanity,
Form:
Prose