She yanks the line!
She’s hooked me good!
Reels me in
To her hood.
Yanks me out
Of my skin.
Reels me into her sin.
That inner need,
That’s what sets us free
To feel so deeply and
To be in love… again.
I’m her one and only yanker.
A real time kitty spanker.
Spinning tales
Hook, line and sinker
She lifts me up wiggling in the air
And licks my stinky sphincter.
She’s the one who smells real phishy.
A feely dead head ringer.
Patchouli is her middle name
While she gives the finger.
She’s taken all my money
With her silly games.
Sure, her first she says is "Honey."
My head is buzzing -
It can’t be mine!
She’s descaled my mind.
Fileted my soul.
Cooked me up
Into her fold
I find...
I’m flopping on the ground,
Squirming uncontrollably.
She gurgles and she giggles
While she swallows down
My Taquila-soaked worm.
As I sit back and reminisce about my day,
I ponder all the happenings that came to play.
All the concessions, all the bargaining, all the ways I gave in;
My stomach drops as if I've committed an egregious sin.
Why is always about they want?
I'm constantly preaching about boundaries and maintaining them,
Yet mine at the slightest breeze seem to snap like a stem.
It feels like sacrifice after sacrifice is made in the name of peace
But none of my own turmoil halts to a cease.
Why are my feelings always discarded?
As the sun sets and we disperse to attend to our own lives,
I feel like fish fileted by dull knives.
I rest my spinning head and try to reach some sort of closure
For my dreams won't come without some sort of composure.
Why do I always fall by the wayside?
My Innermost And Fervent Desire for Solitude
Has Unleashed the Taurus Beast
Mortally Weary are My Bones That Pre Exist My Existence
Worn Is The Sound of My Granted Title
Weighed With Accoladed Responsibilities
Fileted Fame, Phantom Honor
Two Eyes Blinded For One To See
Tangled Tongues Like Two Edged Swords
Slanderous Vices of Presumptuous Predators
Trying to Obscure And Prey on My Harmonious Heart
Entwined Conservation and Preservation Driven
To My Pigeonhole Soul, Reconnoiter Sanctum
Vocals of Virgin Light Pours In Streams of Truth Beams,
Silenced The Rueful Beast Starved of The Tender Lamb that Strayed.
Didn’t know a goat had to die
To make grandma’s dish so delicious.
Fileted meat
Marinated in herb and spice:
Onion, garlic, black pepper, clove and thyme
Pan griddled, embracing black char
Simmer in oil
Sizzling, a snake’s hiss
Aroma drew nose near, from afar
A dinner’s delight
A black fur billy goat
Eyes starring widely
Chewed green, so unaware
Doomed for demise
To adorn dinner plates
Prey to the hunter’s ritual
Age old, as time
Sharp blade placed to throat
Its red soaked the earth
Free -verse 03/07/15
by Marckincia Jean
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.