Enslaves Poems | Examples

Love with Wild Abandon

"Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused. — Paulo Coelho


When first I'd peered into his dark brooding eyes
there was an undercurrent, fathoms deep pulling me in.
A storm brewed inside of me and each time we met
I submitted to my desires and he to his, without regret.
To have denied it would have destroyed us.

He was never mine for the taking
but it was only for him that my heart ached.
We shared a passion, unrestrained— untamed.
We loved with wild abandon.

There was lightning between us.
Thunder roared in my head with each deepened kiss.
I heard it in his breathless sighs—  
felt it when his fingertips danced across my skin. 
It was a serenade of lovers that we sang together
as if each time was a renewal, an awakening of Spring.

Time rushed in months—years spilled in an hourglass.
The feast is still as sweet, the passion as strong.
We'll not be deprived the love we savor with wild abandon
nor the silent whispers to each other's hearts.

Vision of my mind

Far above the reaches of my mind
A mystery enslaves my thoughts
Entitling a Spector Visual Spectrum (SVS)
Scoping all enterprises of my mind
Enslaving a rainbow arc
Captures in visual power
Catching the historical recesses
Memorable times of speculating
Reaches the final the cranium sought
Still trying to catch up what's taught
My mind settles on the present
recycling and referring to the past
Imagining what flew back
Subtly remembering it at last
Still centered on Rainbow Vision of my mind.

Love Is A Wild Being

Love is a wild being 
When we try to hold it 
Together it destroys us
When we try to shut it down 
It enslaves us to suffer
When we try to understand it
It disturbs us terribly.

Foolish flight

midnight has struck
joy into sin
shame like a veil
conceals where I've been

a bird in a cage
free from freedom
and all it enslaves

wings clipped
to keep me from harm
all would I give
to fly in the storm

Ocean Calling

*Writing helps us through anything.


Oh, the ocean is calling me
Collecting the shells at the sea
Watching the curling, rolling waves,
wash away pain that enslaves
My dreams are on horizon there
I will make them come true with care
This is my chance, footprints behind
Left just like the shells I find
I am as simple as the sea shell
I can be fragile, just as well
But, strong enough, not left broken
From the ocean that has spoken

Heidi Sands

6/26/24

8 syllables

(C)opyright

Why People Who Drink Become Violent

In the twilight’s amber glow,
Where secrets of the bottle flow,
Reason dims, and shadows creep,
In liquid courage, demons sleep.

A whisper in the mind’s retreat,
Echoes loud, distorting beat,
Calmness fades in fiery waves,
Memory lingers, sense enslaves.

Impaired by false elation's glee,
Bound in chains we cannot see,
Rage ignites, a spark, a flare,
Inhibitions stripped to bare.

Ghosts of anger, sorrow's past,
Surface in a reckless blast,
Words like daggers, actions wild,
Lost the calm of once a child.

Blame the drink, it’s easy said,
But deeper roots in hearts are bled,
Wounds unhealed, a silent storm,
In the depths, true pain takes form.

So when spirits fuel the flame,
Look within, address the shame,
For the violence, the fight begun,
Is but the war of lost and won.

Mystical Ocean

Who can resist the call of ocean waves
whispering as they lap against the shore?
Who can stand firm against that which enslaves?
Return passionate melody ardor?

How many men have heard the Sirens’ song
leaving wondering kith and ken behind?
How did their fateful journey hold so long
to oppress their minds and tighten the bind?

Who can repeat sweet nothings of wafture
that solos its secret, seductive song?
Who can resist the traction of rigor
that intones one’s soul to follow along?

Can from the heights of Icarus one dive
to the depths of Poseidon and survive ?

Love

In my love's eyes is a pool of passion
this silence invites my soul to stay
and welcomes my love's tender bastion
to feel my captured heart burning away
sighs are my heart's warm beat in harmony
when time is an endless ocean of waves
turning into a pleasant symphony
emotional bonds often enslaves
as soft silhouettes bask in the moonlight
we'll lay in gladness on the farthest hill
await the dawn of tomorrow through night
as the well of our hearts will slowly fill
wrapped and warmed by sensual arms that lace
the eyes of pure love pour upon our face

Goddess From Heaven

Goddess from heaven 
with a top of golden;
Descended like an omen 
to brighten the minds of men.  

She sings deeply well;
She dances like an angel;
She acts like it's real
and casts away her spell.  

Her beauty that enslaves 
enthralls the heart that craves;
Her body that gyrates 
stirs the drowsy spirits. 

Her sweet smile with spell 
is filed with deep meaning;
Only the rightful hearts may tell 
what lies deep within.  

But it's her flipping hair 
That sends all eyes to snare 
Like her name on a paper 
That blows up her ember 

I wish I lived in her time 
So she might remember me 
Her faded memory 
Struck the heart of sympathy 

But the legend of her smile 
Still lives in memory 
For her glorious divine 
Is a track in history 

February 24, 2023

Teach Your Bird To Sing Again

My new canary no more sings;
such grave chagrin her silence brings.
My friend said, "With my violin
I'll teach your bird to sing again".

He played a haunting melody;
tears formed as he sang harmony.
But my canary stood there, still -
her stifled voice a bitter pill.

He lay his instrument aside
and one more course of action tried.
He hoped my pet might soon attune
to him whistling a happy tune.

Still hushed, there was but one course left
for he could see she ached, bereft.
"It's not a song your songbird craves,
but liberty from what enslaves".

He tossed aside his music page
and to my shock, opened her cage.
Then as she winged to uncaged skies
we heard once more her song arise.


Written 26 Oct 2022

Afterglow Is the Best of Lights

Some flower in the twilight,
the dark does not assault them
they succumb upon a dusky breath.

How unlike is the glaring light?
How it enslaves and pinions
each stem with a fiery eye.

Love mesmerized
yearns for the dark coverlets,
the secrecy of eventides.

Those brief nocturnal shallows
can hide a sorrow,
make you smile like the last rays
of a dying sun.

The Princess

My mind traveled in Casablanca 
to witness a tale of love. 
Heart that yearns, desiderata,  
pleads to heaven up above. 

Give me one more chance for loving. 
Quench the drought of this crave, 
for I so longed of having 
the heart that once absconded. 

I've seen princess Anastasia 
proving her rights for crown,
heading her way to Russia 
amidst darkness of the dawn. 

Her mind was blur like fleeting 
but her beauty was overflowing.  
Her charm like a stream was oozing,
sending waves of sting

Capricorn hereunder 
could you tell me what's the matter?
For my heart gravely falters, 
tame the shakes and all the shivers. 

I toured the avenues of her soul 
and plunged my heart in her dungeon.  
Her beauty I so adore 
enslaves me like a pigeon.  

But freedom I detest 
for paradise is her fortress. 
Her fairest skin like milk 
shines so bright to light the darkness.

The Divorce

The divorce

They met in a pub, people often do over drinks
Cross-eyed love, it was not, lust perhaps an end of solitude.
Hastily married got a mortgage and bought a house that 
looked big outside but had narrow rooms.
There was a small garden hidden inside a tall fence
A mortgage is a contract which enslaves young people until
 they are 75 which is so far away it is abstract.
They both worked very hard long hours to pay the loan and
 nice things for the home, therefore they didn’t get to knew
each other than the obvious.
Covid struck, confined inside, discovered they had nothing
in common other, then the apparent, that was not enough
to sustain and foster delicate flowers of love.
The pretty couple next door has divorced, strange they 
looked so industrious.

The Manchild

A complex man, not very wise,
A spoilt child in a man's disguise
A man child who can't behave
Whose followers he enslaves
He tells them things they want to hear
And fills their simple hearts with fear,
He fills their minds with hate and lies
He is a man all should despise
But they adore this ignorant fool
And attend this manchild school

Ruled By Meter, Ruled By Rhyme

Ruled by Meter, Ruled by Rhyme
(A Poet of “What’s Next”)

I love both metered verse and rhyme, the discipline they bring
that guides the output of my muse (their voices help heart sing
without restraint). They elevate mere prose, grant harmony
to speech that gives it shine. They decorate mind’s symphony.
Free verse, of course, inhabits space, mysterious this tide
that sweeps the shore of consciousness; muse-slave, its currents hide
fact gravity enslaves us all. No atheist lends voice
to protests that Its Will’s not fair! Does Truth give one a choice?
How silly is the vanity, that God does not exist,
while we sing ‘truth’ like troubadours to ONE that can’t be kissed?
Should heart prove greatest fool of all, still infinite are ways
I hope to live in gratitude to Grace that RULES my days.
If death is just a final sleep, then let me praise its door!
But till that day (if that is all), I live in faith there’s more!


Long Tooth
June 15th in 2022

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