Caveats Poems

Villains Of Capeesh

Gargoyles of deepest night in an island strangest
Preys of mangled bodies they can't digest
Rounded, popping eyes craving with long nails
Caveats of animals eating their own flesh

Villains of Capeesh roaming as beasts
On tables and floors, scratched and feasts
Gobbling maudlin juices of live carmine
Spilling on throat and skins of grapevine

Brutes of cursed and mythical roots
Flutes of cold bodies tootling in boots
Carcasses of narcoleptic nerves in tears
Taunted and pierced by tusks and smears

Bitter Truth

I didn't know it will come to this.
Life was a blossoming flower.
Right from my tender age.
Whilst in school as a little boy.

I was a shrewd learner.
Ready to take any challenge.
Step by step I moved 
Maneuvering around.

Learning from the aged.
Copying from the sages.
An astute learner I was.
Different accolades, I could get.

Out of school I'm.
An independent person I'm.
But nothing seem to add up.
Perhaps I'm trying to cross a bridges I haven't reached.

This was not my intention.
But it had come to my mind.
I want to take the shortest route.
One that will easy my way.

My Bible warns against this.
My constitution caveats against it.
But from what I see,
Nothing will deter me.

@Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk.

The Wage of Sin

THE WAGE OF SIN.


What' should I call this?
Fortune or misfortune?
The fate of my curiosity.
Akin to that of the cat.

A child a blessing from God.
But this seem not to be.
A child out of wedlock!
A bastard they'll call.

My peers have forsaken me.
My mama I opted for.
The worst she has done to me.
She disowned me.

A salt that has lost it saltiness I'm.
What's the remedy to this.
An abortion is a sin, they say.
Leathal as well.

Enough caveats I got,
But I defied, 
This grave I dug myself,
Surely I must lie in it.

My dreams shattered down.
Out of school I'm
The star that was about to shine.
Is turning dim daily.

?@Kipngeno Robin.
Tha Formidable Cheru.

Light In a Quiet Room

Illuminates the following:

ME, MY CELLPHONE, AND I
LIGHT IN A QUIET ROOM
CHAMPAGNE AND CAVEATS
DRESSING FOR THE SALAD LADY
WHEN LOVE LET ME DOWN
MAKING IT TO LETTING GO
AFTERMATH
MOLASSAS IN JANUARY
DISCO AWAY
SAD HANNAH
BACKSTROKE
T. C. JONES
HAPPY LIKE ME

Champagne and Caveats

Best man, maid of honor, 
Father of the bride.
Toss the bouquet and the garter, 
Groomsmen on the side.
In-laws, photographers, caterers…
Don’t forget to tip the waiters.
DJ stage, reception hall,
Gold bands, first dance, pillar to post….

And now a toast:

Here’s to prideful selfishness and petty vanities.
Those rocks and shoals can wreck your ship.
Suspicions will harbor resentment
And threaten your future contentment.
Be careful as you navigate your way.

Here’s to unresolved childhood issues
And deep-seated jealousies.
They can sabotage your happiness 
And lead to endless miseries.
Beware these hidden dangers every day.

Here’s to poor communication
And a lack of empathy.
Emotional projections 
That highlight imperfections…
The disrespect that only leads to tears. 

Here’s to blissfulness and diligence,
Tolerance and vigilance,
Wedding rings and lovers’ knots,
Champagne and caveats.
Cheers!

Hard To Take

HARD TO TAKE

He was sure that for most 	
of his life he’d been a dangerous
prescription, wrapped in caveats
and warnings such as:
don’t mix, ask your doctor, must
be twelve years or older, take
with whole milk or food or risk slow
painful death……
For way too many years he was sure
that his forehead projected disclosures
and chilling disclaimers: 
not covered by insurance, might make
you dizzy, don’t drive after taking or
operate machines, use only for seven
days but not if sunny, cold or wet…...  
His good second wife misunderstood this
advice, had reached out to this man, actually
sought his awkward presence, and with a
joyful dyslexia misread the information that
had saved others so much grief
She began to take him each day, then 
every hour day and night with lots of
veggies and tea and with reckless
disregard for those annoying side effects 
and those dangerous irritations such as
laughter, love and trust; she found a
prescription that works – a testosterone
therapy that might upset her stomach
but almost always warms her heart! 

Emanuel Carter

A Poets Duty

A poets duty is not to find beauty, 
it’s to write whatever they want, 
Rhyme is important yet not exclusive,
go wild or stay nonchalant,

Personally myself I don’t try offend, 
But may rub some people up wrong,
Speak my mind in exaggerated tone,
that’s the art of bringing you along,

Like to entertain feel your mood,
capturing the moment at heart,
Make a postulation based on fact,
in an attempt to take life apart,

I want to flow, like silk on glass, 
then get snagged upon a shard,
Paint a desolate picture of black,
next verse color may bombard,

Put spirit into my written words,
resurrect our past, to raise the dead, 
Then pick away at your soul again,
planting seeds within one’s head,

A little controversy’s quite ok,
sprinkled with teasing caveats,
Best is bringing it all together,
crowing you with a slicing axe,

A poets duty is undefined, 
borderless, relatively immaterial,
The hardest part of all for me,
is this poems own limiting criterial. 

 

For (A poets duty) contest
Sponsored by Beth Evans
08/10/2020
No placement

Ruffled Feathers

Crimson coats 
Truth laces on the sleeves

Layered pinks
Weary wants within 

A chink in the sky 
Chapels clarify

Words that smelled green
Promises pristine

Doting on the dark dew 
 Musk settles anew

Unruled pages
Ruled roads
Caveats mistaken
Heart carrying the heaviest load.

The path forsaken 
The path forgiven

Some of us aren’t meant to be tamed 
Come, this is the way.

Bf's Girl

BF’s Girl

Man is identified by behavior.
I say man and she demands an
Accounting.  The definitive correlative
Can not be spoken.  The constant common
Can not be held in union.  I must discourse
All caveats else no communion, no love.
What of it?  I can stick a thermometer
Up her ass and she registers normal.
All biology, chemical registry, hormone
Therapy, cat scan technology yield
No abrasion any unguent could quench.
I say what harm I live and chose, too?
She speaks of a box she wasn’t raised in,
Impacts everything.  A falling body accelerates
Jubilant of nearing home.  Childproof or regret it.

Crossroads and Roads

Crossroads prod roads that download and upload quads of queries
Lumped and dumped on our battered bodies by blister berries
Spiced with slices of suppression and subjugation
That in the end neither mend nor amend our conjugation.

Crossroads prod roads that download and upload wads of whims 
Whisked and kicked into reams and streams of our dreams
Spiced with slices of surrender without a defender
To prevent vents and tents that land our glands into a blender.

Crossroads prod roads that download and upload squads of sentiments
Sneaked into tricks that kick our caveats and comments 
Said with the aid of braids of dread and lead
That pound and ground pain within the brain in our head.

Crossroads prod roads that download and upload triads of tribulations
Located to allocate lots, plots and slots of sneeze speculations
Marinated with cellulite, marmite alongside territory termites 
That undulate and perambulate in our tenderness satellites.

Trumped Up Poetry Book

Trump now loves rhyme, its integral
to his existence as his name 
rhymes with so many words so well
and words that qualify his fame,

There’s flump and rump and also plump,
then’s sump and its close cousin, slump
and not forgetting grump and dump
all lumped together form a chump
And contributing to his art 
in English Trump describes a fart

Epilogue

When Trump was told his poetry 
was subject to some caveats
he thought he’d act on the advice 
so based on it bought a cravat.* *


*reference his ? poetry book cover photo !

To Day

I allude subjects dressed as 
black memorials. I hate attending 
gray eulogized gatherings filled
with stereotypical colloquialisms 
dressed in puke hued green. 
Why? As a prose freak of lines, 
I engender christianese choking 
the very life out of hope. There aren’t 
any reliable daydreams charismatically 
afloat, just biding time until the next 
dark cycle. I did however attend a 
meeting of the minds as the sun rose
unimpressed with the vintage of earth.

Let me defer to yesteryears when
love was tender and life was aghast
with yucky booger eating boys and 
their ghastly bugs and critters. And
dark thirty was the right time to steal
kisses, just inches shy of streetlight
shadows of the opera. 
While harmless caveats of thick skinned 
and doting elders dressed in shades of 
white buckled shining armour, riddle us
life’s never promised thorn-free, hybrid, 
organic food for thought. 

Experience, however, promises fields
of sown seeds ripe with a harvest of
our good, bad and ugly. Look past gone,
accept now, and race to tomorrow.

Erotic Mystery

Erotic Mystery
poem
Lionel Derbyshire

The morning smells like roses 
The night is left behind.
Two bodys rolling over organs 
Waiting and slithering close
There are no walls 
To divide kisses
Hearts are erotic 
Love is rage.
The ecstasy starts
Bodys grow stiff 
Parts are pouting.
Honey flowing streaming 
Fearing no caveats.

The morning smells like roses.

The sheets they slip
Sharp nails etch
Every blue vein in ire 
Crying deep.
The lips rapture
The seduction myteriously.
The eyes are close 
Hearts are pounding , 
Cupid is in loving brace 
such like Eros in blythe
And Aphrodite just lushes about.

Or am I just ..
Swirling bordeaux.

Atomic Apocalypse

The horsemen have arrived on their menacing mares,
Whose stiletto-hoofed horseshoes click-clack on an achromatic static; 
Silent staccatos inside an ultraviolet light.

As vidalian-dampened eyes drip viridian veneers before the mounted steeds,
And embrocations of nuclear infernos' fumes simmer their cimmerian shades,
A penumbral eclipse gallops atop the sickened sky.

Diaries dug from the barren breasts of Chernobyl, 
Inscribed with cautionary caveats of the terrace's truncation:
Of the kudzu and its vehicular veins sucking its captured prey,
Gobbled by mushroom sombreros with barbed electron brims.

No more shall zephyrs sing the azalea thistle.
No more shall blackened dahlias dance upon the dungeon drapes.
No more shall lightning lick the leathery land of ozone.

At last the poisoned atom's apple has been bitten.
Down it goes through the three mile throat that thickens with silica,
Oxidizing the once electric crepuscules with a toadish croak.
And at last, this system of solar spheres will be but a dream,
Hidden away in supernova starlight; locked with skeletal keys behind your mind.

Silence Whispers

Silence whispers
Softly murmuring out
Sweet essence breezes
That sighs through your hair
And susurrates the saplings

Taciturn memories
Moment of yesterdays…
Hushed hopes of tomorrow
Fragile reticent promises…
A phantom spectacle

Forever unattainable
Remote and distant
These frivolous voices
Softly murmuring out
Sweet essence breezes

Lost aspirations
Callously blown caveats…
Gently muted choices
Easy and idle thoughts…
Silence whispers

• Short Caveats Poems
• Famous Caveats Poems
• Best Caveats Poems
• Read Caveats Poems
• Long Caveats Poems
• Caveats Quotes