Wolfs Fist
Wolfs Fist rode
On a purple toad
In the land of
The Giant Red Eft
He was a froggy young buck
With astounding good luck
To find young love
In the lake
He was on his way
To play in the bay
With a lovely undine
Named Caroline
They danced and
Made love under
The Moon above
Upon a Midsummer time
The crickets called out
In a merry loud shout
To see a frog dance
Without any pants
They slept on a bed
Of cat tail heads
Under shimmering
Crystalline skies
I'll be back at nine
Said Caroline
As they dined on a breakfast
Of snails
She promised more of the same
Of their steamy love game
As Wolfie stared
Into her eyes
May I borrow your toad
I never have rode
A steed so
Purple and big
They hugged and
They kissed
She rode off in the mist
Never to be seen again
Wolfie walked home alone
As the silver Moon shone
Promising never
To love
Anther slippery water sprite
In the middle of the night
Or loan her
His purple toad
DC Jordan 9-10-2026
The saying is:
I think,
therefore I am.
So,
if I don't think,
then therefore I am not.
Does this apply,
to the corpse I see,
laid in that casket.
Her hands, tight round nettles,
that carry no flowers or buds,
and make her hands burn and hiss.
But she is not thinking,
so she doesn't feel the pain.
Rather, the flesh,
begins to rot,
off her, and her dress,
is stained with blood.
That dress. The one,
her loved ones picked out
for her.
I'm sure it's a lovely thing,
probably fashioned from a bolt of silk,
and stitched together with care.
But now it is stained,
and no one removed the nettle,
from her hands.
So maybe you should think before you leap,
but don't think to hard,
or else,
before you are even put to rest
the entire thing
has rotted away.
An empty hand can become forceful fist
Fight for love is fight for life within wits
All is fair in love and war
Least life be a bore
Living life on the fly for a kiss
“Mind Fist”
by Positive Mark
Protection from a demon or protection from the chaos?
You’re smudging for a cleansing or you prepping for a seance?
We don’t purchase insurance after we done wrecked our car,
so why wait for calamity to unmask who we are?
I always harp on shadow work, ‘cause that’s what gets me through it.
No progress will be made unless I buckle down and do it.
Traversing through the underworld, to sort through buried trauma.
Relationships,
The times I quit,
My issues with my Momma.
What waits for me in shadows that I need to understand
before my spirit finds the light to be a better man?
And when the magic spells work, and I find that brighter day,
should I dip my quill and lead the way,
or bag my goods and go away?
Mind Fist
What if
I say I'm in love with you
Will your instincts trust my feelings?
What if
I choose to fall for you
Will you be loyal till I die?
What if
I decided to ride or die with you
Will you promise to have my back?
What if
My feelings for you die
Will you still kiss me goodbye?
What if
I don't live to see tomorrow
Will you shed a tear when I'm gone?
What if...
surviving_pawn
Machine gun heart riddled with shades of grey.
A mind once sharpened by your own forked tongue.
Lovers' lips part with rumbles of a cannon.
Dew licked satin sheets - the highway to carnal desire.
Silhouettes of freshly washed skin dance in the night.
Passion rising like the souls of the departed.
Where do you sleep after your thirst is quenched?
Where do you go when your high knows no bounds?
Unfiltered needs not being met;
A fire put out before the gasoline burns off.
Passionate nights followed by cool seduction.
A waterfall of your essence coating my tongue.
Decisions made in a moment of yearning.
Your lack of understanding - my constant battle.
Why can't you listen instead of just hear?
I will free my enslaved exuberance,
since you can't be bothered.
Blow out the candle and climb into bed.
One of these days you'll get what you want.
And one of these days I'll learn that I won't.
See my finger
See my thumb
See my FIST
You better run
© daniel miltz
Fist for a boxer
Trained to win, to write a book
Pen for a writer.
When you try to solve your problems
with the swing of an angry fist
that cannot be unswung
nor the damage caused undone
regret will sidle up
hollow out your belly
and set your mind awhirl
conveying very clearly
that what you should have done
was take a breath or two
go back a bit in time
to when that fist
would not have swung
to when Boots
raised from just a puppy
relied on your protection
and came to you for comfort
unclench that angry fist
and remember how it felt
when Boots was in your lap
and you used that unclenched fist
to gently stroke his warmth
as he lazily stretched and yawned.
Loosen up a bit,
that head and heart fit
in cauldron of love,
working hand in glove.
Immersed in worship,
with love our flagship,
once our fist’s unclenched,
heart becomes bliss drenched.
We ascend with ease,
on choosing release,
from patterns of old
glued in ego’s mould.
For God to appear,
relinquish each fear
and gently align
under His love sign.
08-August-2022
on table pounded fist
with her efforts must persist
added name to list
Friend is an expert et al.
Wrote this mentioned
by his wife.
A tempest night sky presses, my lattice windows shake,
as if someone’s being thrown against them, or worse yet,
a yeti's breaking in. They lock with little levers that seem far
too flimsy to keep out the prying fingers of turbulence.
We watched a man plodding outside - obviously a student from Alaska.
He was talking on his phone, his breath a continuous, cold white cloud.
He slipped, careering drunkenly but managed to stay upright by
assuming a surfer-like crouch.
“Where do you think HE’s going?” Lisa wondered.
Forget fall’s polite, amuse-bouche of chill, we’ve been smacked,
full frontally assaulted by the gigantic, cold-fist of winter. “Go on,”
I said, to the weather gods last fall, like an unlucky gambler on a
losing streak. “hit me!”
Now I’m searching Amazon for “flannel underwear”.
An unclenched fist and open heart
The way we live our life
Knowing all souls one, none apart
We’re free from narrow strife
Content the way things are
Although we do not spar
We’ve slowly come afar
No to do list
An unclenched fist
16-January-2022
Quietus
The pain
The sting
The betrayal of a love once shared
When fist meets flesh
Is it such a deep love that I feel?
For you tell me that it is—afterwards.
Is it forgiveness that you seek?
For you ask of it—afterwards.
The bruises don’t tell all of the stories
Only you and I have read that book.
So many times
So many nights
When fist meets flesh
I am torn down
I am broken
My soul remains spiritless.
Yes, I always think of a better time
A happier time
A time of hope, dreams, love, and the laughter between us
Each time…
Fist meets flesh.
A nurse who had never been kissed
Was bathing a cowboy named Twist
He started to spurt
She asked if that hurt
And then checked his pulse at the wrist
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