Best Yearlings Poems
Allow altruistic artistry among ailing american adversaries.
Bartering begins before begging beasts break brothers.
Capture calamity controlling catastrophe calming castration.
Dedicate decisions directed down dreary deaf disillusionment.
Eradicate equality earning efficient energetic epiphany.
Follow fallen foreigners forgetting faithful flight from fluid folly.
Gasping greatness growing grapes given golden goodness.
Halt hollow hearts hearing helpless happiness.
Imagine impurity imitating indestructible ice inflicting impotent illness.
Justify jolly jerusalem jingling janitors joining january’s jewelry.
Kill kindergarten kings kicking kindly kindred kilts.
Lament likeable links lingering lowly light like lavender letters.
Mount monetary moments melting motherly marshal monuments.
Negate nightly notions noticing nurtured naughty nakedness.
Open oblivious obligation of odd operative oceans.
Propagate proposed premonitions producing proud pirate papas.
Quiet quilted questions quickly quoting quaint qualm quandary.
Remember righteous royalty returning rotten remnant rage.
Skip silent sulking surrounding super salty sounds squeezing sanity.
Teach talented tearful tyrants total trivial topics training treason.
Utter utopian universality upon united unitarian usurpers.
Violate vermin validity valuing victorious vomiting virgin volunteers.
Wash wandering women wondering whether western whiteness welcomes war.
X-ray xeric xenophobic xylem-made xebec.
Yearn yellow yearlings yelling yonder yuletide yachtsmen.
Zebra.
Fresh winter wind shines
Early day's icy lace
Brisk peppermint breath
Refined milky light
Ubiquitous candy hearts
Allows a splash of
Red and pink to brighten
Yearlings' skittish steps to spring.
In the night the wolves howl in the distance,
As the spring lambs bay, with the first stirrings of life,
Close lies the pack of humanity, those for whom hunger for the
Fresh taste of the blooding’s first strike, at the throats of innocence
Most pure!
Have they gone suddenly silent, these yearlings tender lambs,
In the stilled quiet amongst the melting snows of winter,
The mountain fields run crimson, and an eerie stench oozing
Upon the winds of distain!
The cannibal lies within the forest of the towered halls,
In the giant fortresses of mankind, he does stalk amongst his own brethren,
No wolfed bite of treachery could leave such a mark of
Terror, as he the beast, whom would feast upon the raw flesh
Of his kindred kind!
A gentlemen chamleon blending amongst the tailcoats
Of learned men, sheathed within the amour of intelligence's,
A humanistic wolf moves flawlessly, within the herds of the
Meek and mild, to pick his victims of the city flock
At his leisure of desires pleasure!
Underneath the outstretched wings of the red dragon,
The bubbling caldron pot of truest evil, does runneth over,
With the gravy’s leavening's of the corruption and violence,
Welcoming this creature of the demonic to the dinning
Table of the unrighteous and wicked!
Black sheep, black sheep, do you have any wool,
The whittend lamb does ask, nay but in the woods
Therein, lies many go within the wolves din and take
What you like at your own risk of course, my innocent
Friend, but beneath the blackened skinned wool the
Wolf does smile, with a sheepish grinning!
In an extravagant restaurant a well-mannered gentlemen,
Orders the specialty of the house to go, later he adds
He adds his special ingredients, spiced to the taste
Buds of the cook himself, it sizzles with an unusual
Oromia of well-cooked human flesh, the cannibal
Smiles with delight at his culinary masterpiece,
As the police knock at his door, with a missing
Persons report!
In the jail cell of the lost souls, he the cannibal known
As Hannibal Lector has no regrets, except say one,
The meal he never got to finish!
In the night the wolves howl in the distance,
As the spring lambs bay, with the first stirrings of life,
Close lies the pack of humanity, those for whom hunger for the
Fresh taste of the blooding’s first strike, at the throats of innocence
Most pure!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
And the petals opened one
by one, catching the prayers
of the sun. The dew lay like
diamonds, tiny drops of life
giving ambrosia.
The stigma inhales the aura
as the butterflies come to
dance. While the ladybird
struts this floral crown.
Fragrances borne on gentle
zephyr fill the air with the
wonderment of love. Love
in a desire that is given so
freely.
From mulch and passing
seasons new life is created,
birth arrives as death sleeps.
Shoots, saplings, yearlings
shall grace the eye, and the
blending greens caress the
land.
And the bee shall bless the
blossom, giving fruit for
natures cause. And nature
herself shall sit warm in
the heart, in contentment
and serenity.
Alas as I peep the frosty
window pain I know this
is long away. The white
blanket that covers puts all
life in sleep, the promise
of spring lies deep.
The thought it keeps me
warm.
Appleby Fair
Don't go to Appleby fair
you'll be upset at what you see there,
young ponies in harness
driven hard up the road,
men ignorant of horses
and their welfare.
crowds at the riverside
watch plunging horse
being driven to exhaustion
by rough young boys.
Yearlings in harness
needing a rest - coloured
ponies put to the test,
"horse down" someone shouts
as pony in harness lies exhausted,
"don't cut my new traces" the big man says,
so they try to untangle the mare,
who would go to the horse fair
and seebullying and ignorance there.
Away dashes the last frigid brush of winter
Beauty cannot wait to rise and greet the sun
Crocuses are first to break through barren soil
Daffodils display their lacy, yellow petals next
Even the iris is beckoned by warmth
Fragile blooms pray another frost will not come
Gardenias bestow their sweet aroma
Hibernating forsythias wake to grace the garden with gold
In these early weeks of spring
Junipers need time to develop fruit
Kindling and firewood are laid aside
Lovers saunter through gardens
Magical kisses are shared beneath the draping willows
Nests appear high in tall trees
Oaks are filled with robins and blue jays
Peace is found in a hike through the woodlands
Quickly, a red fox darts across the trail
Rabbits are his prey
Squirrels shake their fluffy, furry tails
Total bliss is found in nature’s rebound
Upon the trellis vines are sprouting
Violet morning glories wake to greet sunrise
Winter must remain dormant for nine long months
Xylem carries nutrients to thirsty leaves
Yearlings with dotted hides emerge from forests to graze
Zigzagging among bushes, hummingbirds joyfully welcome spring
*Written February 21, 2015
Florida Sunrise
Sunrise breathes heavy colors of
Impending wonder
Life springs into quick action
Turtles move gently toward water
Eggs hatch before heat of day
Yearlings stand on trembling legs
Sunrise breathes life into the
Natural world
But oh the pondering sunset
Who lulls all nature
with lullaby so sweet
Translucent flames descending
Into serene sea of sleep.
I remember childhood carousel mirrors,
antique, ornate, intoxicating, glimmering,
glinting, gleaming, turning,
calliope piping, toy top twirling, shimmering.
I remember all those early years of yearning.
I remember grainy analog TV,
pallid, pasty-faced, fuzzy vestiges,
wavy-gray shadow-shades so giddy.
I remember the vapid, vacant egregious,
the dull corporate thievery of the airwaves.
I remember polychromatic butterflies,
splodgy, splotchy, wavy, Lepidoptera,
dewy glorious mornings playing in a puerile land.
I remember wispy pastels, childish whispered chimera hopes.
We all wanted to believe in the carousel.
I remember wooden yearlings swirling,
ponies pumping, rolling, my resemblance careening,
my semblance of being aspiring in glittery silvery sterling.
I remember so many seraphs pirouetting,
all silently streaming, mercifully redeeming.
I remember childhood carousel mirrors.
Hellacious howls tickle and titillate
the trompeleil scene
in the pastel Court of Kings.
Flamboyancy rings as the
fluttering coo of a rapiers dance in the hands of fops,
through the high ceilinged corriders of castle in the chill air
buzzing past the ears
of the mischievous lillipitians, yearning,
egging on yearlings with antiquated filigreed foils.
Ludicrousity runs riot
trolloping in fandango-clicks of hooker-red
across the quilt-stitched batten puffed blazers
of Dukes and Pimpernels pompously prancing
before beatific, porcelain, wig-topped dolls
rouged and hollow-eyed.
Chroniclers cavort in the manner of angry bees
on spindle-pins, their stocking encased legs
pawing at pedagogs who gawk slack jawed.
Only the puncture of flesh-framed torsos
brings an end to the melee.
*Melee, generally refers to disorganized close combat
involving a group of fighters.
Note: "How can there have been such strife in a Morlde` filled with beautiful Music; &
how could there have been beautiful Music such in a Morlde` filled with strife?" -Soupy
Sales, 2012.
The 12 Panes Of Christmas:
_____________________________________________________________________________
___
- XMAS' RADOTER -
Yule be Xmas
afore ye know
the pag'an go
for patterned
stamped snowflakes
'bove the
Andy Williams' Shows
DVD Stufftaculate CD,
Away, In A Manger For The Happy Employees,
drivelings (no place like) home
for the Hollydayease
in
a Ford Barricade & SUG Thirsty,
Nay, the new GM Bailout.
Suffer
the little Children
new bornes, infants
what nary see
but a Semi-Claus
ere
semiclaws,
tithes for the celibre-cause craws.
Remembrances
to things past-past, of
natal assemblies
en callow chorale masse
gone
Proustikipped,
to mortitorium's
N'well
& stockings filled
with
the chimney's cold care
yet in hopes
das Geheimnis Viktoria
would
somehow brassiere...
rout despair
the Tree hovers
Cabbage Patch? Nay!,
but the oft'splayed
Perry Como - You Win!,
Get to poke Golgotha pins -
WakeUp, boorros!
Bing-Bing!
WakeUp!, Jokers
to the St. Jack Nihilis...
but ya wanna
bat 'n ball this 'round?
You a'ready donned Santa,
with a semi-
Dear G*d,
(Walsch also asked)
How're You doin' It, &
Your Son?...Tarnished
proof weighdown here, filled
with
vanilla, frozen grins &
Joyburdened smiles...
'neath
pattern-stamped snowflakes &
piney Glade heads
afore the marshed desert
Koyaanisqatsi
Like yearlings'
trotted-out
Saviormusic
whilst the other 333
like
666 -
doubled for toil 'n trouble -
employed
to savaging
One, many, or 'nother...
Christmas partidges'
riffeled feathers family?
pared, unprepaired,
Indeed, vouchsafed
an enemy sans name
on
a horse with no name, save
Internecine
AmeriKa.
For
A kiss 'neath
the mistlesilo
whilst acaroling
of the Bedlamites
(Acts, II: 2-6),
the Psalming 100?,
Screeching
like sleds in pit gravel to
the Silent Night
HeyMen!
There lies
an evergrander Light
at the Dawn, but
Hey!,
who's gonna
tear-away
from
Yawnni,
& the extra-Vaganza
of
Truth?
H.e.m.
12.13.MMviii.
(ST)
Its 2017 and my odyssey is far from begun.
Nearly ending every yearlings dwindling
Found above ground without Mona Lisa's lungs.
Without air is mortality.
Anything else is air mortality.
Painted on a picture is a mural on a bar stool room wall. Blank faces stare beneath the counter.
As I drink myself under the taker.
Only to arise with the power of ten thousand men—Truth be told, that’s about less than ten thousand women, infant and children.
Elderly has forgotten and our honest approach takes a step forward.
How is unthinkable. Why is unimaginable. Anger is intolerable garble and forgotten is an ancient power that is truly god-like...forgotten
1-20-2017
I saw a thousand geese fly by.
From north to south,
They marked the sky.
Thrown off their course by winter storm,
On hapless and drifting route.
An endless, massive flock
Spanned my view in jagged form.
The fleet looked to be give-out.
And hundreds trailed behind the lead
In long, lop-sided, wavering vies.
Tired yearlings wobbled within the rears,
Beating their wings with mindless fear.
I watched for some to land my pond,
To sift the mire through reed and frond,
But each bird flew with forward breast,
Deprived of strength and pounding chest.
I woke up to the sun a-calling me
Got dressed and went outside to take a leak
No worries, folks are many miles from here
My neighbors are the squirrels and birds and deer
The early morning air was still and sweet
The sun seemed in no rush to clear the trees
Two yearlings eyed me from a berry patch
I felt self-conscious, so I turned my back
And laughed about our built-in modesty
I zipped up and said, loudly, "Thank you, Eve"
My hound dog ambled up, then stopped to yawn
And next he yelped his fav'rite morning song
"Ah-ooooo, I am so hungry I could die
Ba-woolf, it's been a while since suppertime
Uh-gulf, I put my bowl there by the door
Bow-wow, make sure my Gravy Train is warm"
The sun rose in bouquet of sunflowers
It shone effervescence into the silent night
The moonlight and the stars where excused
The mood of the weather bliss
The smile of the wind blew a kiss
The seeds took to the soil like mother’s milk
The wind of jingle bells like feather dusters cleansing the air
They’ll grow into a forest of yearlings
This year, yearning to be ploughed by Christmas
They’ll yield all our wish lists
Into presents at the root the trees
Into the sweet taste of dreams coming true
It rains once a year from clouds of happiness
The sun shines down love all year round
For the perfect conditions conducive,
For growing fruit of joy all around the world
The forest is both magical and spiritual
It’s evergreen grazing for his reindeers
Trimming them into perfect cones
It’s Santa’s best kept secret
His most treasured of tools
He spares no effort to protect it
From the loveless deforestation
For if the lumberjack had his way,
Where would he leave our presents otherwise this year?
balls games and bulls
" oh dear and oh no....the elephants are going to the ball game"......speaking clicking clock cloth tells the time but never yells for yelling is a yearling and yearlings never argue with a pistol pineapple on a journey to a bean bowl with a bag of fruit gums. Game then. G h f a finals. Ding dong beep final score. Booming. Tambourine tannoy system ejecting electric void of voice. And a void is a vision and s vision from a village is locating a very large mongoose which visits a local inn and gets drunk. It is the pretty pastel cows in a line. It is the wildness of a bedroom in a bank. But the belching from a bull omits a terror previously reserved for wrapped up tacos in a desert hole. No more is the money dancing to a fine tune. Adjusting adjudicators accurately announce armies. And admission to a spectacle of a nine mile breakfast plate has gone gone gone in a record sell out that kisses a kind cloud. Club chests chant class. And a classical calm from a spinning vibration from a thin slice of toast. Hahah before the end is a cake in a car. But careless carcass causes cake to explode. No ha to that. Of which way is a water wand? Two times north equals south and south is busy chatting to an east but a west is too busy. In bustier businesses. Bring no baby sea lion to a mountain range. And always walk carefully in a light breeze from a light bulb in a bulletin. Un en dc k lie and a swerve dive makes a mission. For mules. Ten times a chicken divided by a spoon equals? And a laughing anarchical lollipop arrives. Hahahahahahahahha.......and a mysterious marshy rock visiting in a singular dingy. Wave. xxxxxxxx 1 2 3 4 industrialization z z z z z z z z z Z.