the tortoise taught us
how to peel and prepare potatoes
as the llama was alarmed
singing la la songs with her ma
the horse became hoarse
rehearsing his shouting at the hearse
as the hyena had a hernia
hiding heinously in the honey jar
Eyes! Doleful and lonely as they quietly penetrate my soul
In their silence, I can hear clamorous rumblings of a tale that pleads to be told
Far-reaching and clamorous are these eyes
So much so that not even their beautiful abode can cover or disguise
Beautifully haunting, they are
So deep and so regally divine
I see them. I feel them.
Deeply,
Deeply,
Deeply, they touch
As they meticulously befuddle every morsel of my being
I awkwardly attempt to look away
But like a magnet, they pull me close, closer
Then they speak of many tales, from a whisper to the pinnacle of rising octaves
Sorrowful narratives of manipulation, deception, jealousy, ghosting, envy, greed, betrayal, hurt, sadness, and even the macabre
They speak of wondrous hopes and dreams in the dawn of life that were quickly and heinously turned to night
They restricted celebrations,
forget your relations.
They restricted travel,
watched families unravel.
They restricted purchases,
no provided services.
They closed the schools,
those were the new rules.
They closed the churches,
no Sunday soul searches.
They closed the gyms
and the flab begins.
They closed the restaurants,
forget sweet tooth wants.
They closed the theaters,
no full-length features.
They closed retail stores,
no welcoming doors.
They closed the bars,
murmurs of wars.
Society accepted it as well as they could,
as everyone felt the need to be good.
But then they closed the brothel –
an act so heinously hostile –
What? You call that a plan!
That’s when the fight began.
Surreptitiously its
Tendrils caress,
Reaching out gently,
Ardently intertwining
Nonchalantly
Gaining ground.
Little by little, it will
Eclipse and smother
Heinously,
Overwhelmingly pernicious if
Left to become
Deep-rooted.
03.09.19
Pick A Title, Vol 8 - Acrostic - Poetry Contest : sponsored by Edward Ibeh
With their haunting beauty and calamitous construct
The captivating caves opprobriously obstruct
Ambient anguish heinously hidden
Humbling hearts trapped and love forbidden
Hemispherical hindering in the caves of ice
Where the solace of sorrows silently suffice
Terminal tentacles of the tyrannical snow queen
Quenching her thirst in the salivating smoke screen
Efficacious echoes of loves demise
Suffocating screams surveil and agonise
Benevolent breaths frantically forever frost
Within the caves of the lachrymal lost
As the winter wanders and whimsically waves
For my soul surrenders to the Caliginous Caves.
Aug.04.2016
Caves - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen
A gent of African legacy has earned governance over this land.
We populaces of pigment have increased our acceptance.
Our masses are at liberty to decide where we sit, live, and learn.
Yet I ask have we arrived?
We are enduring verdicts founded on our physical imprints.
The multitudes continue to resign from our edifying institutions.
Scores of the lineage linger in districts of decay and poverty.
Have we arrived?
Lives vanished heinously, but we drew deliverance from disparity.
The assessment of our existence was engorged exponentially.
Our pedigree sheltered one another as to preserve strength.
Have we arrived?
We self-perpetuate devastation upon our people preventive progress.
Many of us take the lives of our brethren as if they are insignificant.
No longer do we stand united, and instead we have yielded to individualism.
Have we arrived?
As fishes wriggling
The entirety of their slippery bodies
In vast oceans, lost in the glory of waters
Instincts meander
Their way through to the mind
In a pool of imagined Sensuality
With wanton desires
A longing for the temporal
Poignantly stands erect
In the throne-room of man's emotions
Motioning with a seemingly motionless demeanor
Unfulfilled cravings
Cradles persistence
In his goal oriented pursuits
Thoughts are repressed
Mental imageries suppressed
To pave way for domination
Of pleasantly positive feelings
Yet the uncouth lingers
Occasionally engages the enthroned
In scrimmages in their bid to dethrone them
Man holds the prerogative
To serve either of them willingly
Equally, man possess all it takes to be
Heinously hedonistic
And heartily attractive in personality
To please society
None can reach complete perfection
At both extremities
© Seth Boss Kay @ 19/10/2013
Why O' why did I let this dragon fly?
Beast unleashed from inside,
Hovering heinously in the night sky.
Jagged tail of spine,
are just cruel words of mine.
Teeth as daggers, rip and tear-
are just my stupid feats to scare.
Gallant knight, only who to calm
This malevolent, deranged specter
I am mere putty in your palm.
Tho a diseased, volatile vector.
My Gallant Man- beast tamer
The crimson of this dragon, blood...
incensed in guilt- eyes cry a flood.
Rescue me again, as I claim
another incident of the insane.
Angel come to me-
The dragon shall hide,
Hopefully never to come alive
again...
I make a plea to you upon my knee.
Without you all is naught,
except the dragon, will
never be caught...
A. Green
Rabid amber leaves
scuffed the callous stone flags
in a symbolic melee of defiance,
December’s mist embraced
the noon of the day
summoned the arctic wind
to wilfully wail within the alley
howl heinously encircling the yard.
The long dark night that ensued
lingers still in one’s memory,
where bedside candles flicker
and rampant draught ooze beneath
the worm infested door
to provoke dancing flames,
before anxious hands bathe
a forehead ablaze with
winter’s corruption!
© Harry J Horsman 2011
Protect me from the beast
It feeds on mortals in the south, north, west and the east
Its putrid-rotten breath, smells of decayed ancient death
In the late hours of the night
When you are asleep
Onto your bed, it silently creeps
It looks into your heart
It sees beyond what human hearts hold
It stares deep into your soul
It smells what you feel
Its only emotion is Kill
It rips human spirits, at will
Its heathen claw
Into your fleshly chest, it crawls
It takes your heart and devours it raw
It savors your sweet-bitter blood
As it licks its decayed puss-covered lips
The taste of your blood makes its iniquitous desires come forth with a flood
It peers into your eyes
It sees all your flaws
It heinously smiles, as it watches your warm blood drip to the floor
Once upon an under edited and somewhat jaded,
female’s mid-life crisis
she sat down to contemplate the options of all her
“age appropriate” vices’
“Debauchery deficient”, “depravity bereft”,she
was "tragically prosaic”.
sadly ending her self-indulgent deprecation
with,“pitifully archaic”
Upon further diagnosis and self
evaluation, she concluded
she had neither mid-life crisis nor deficiency,
but was brazenly deluded!
Severe results of this delusion;
insomnia induced proliferation:
this excessively verbose and heinously,
superfluous pontification!
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