How important are family and friends,
Times of real trouble the outcome depends,
Depends on the numbers the more we recruit,
Together we help to resolve a dispute,
Our heads put together to plan our way out,
Intimidate the enemy where in with a shout,
We can beat every problem fight to the end,
Our strength is in numbers we will apprehend,
So if you cause aggro in a negative way,
You'll feel the full force as we hunt down our prey,
This is a route we rather not take,
It's never too late to admit your mistake,
Turn it around repair what was wrong,
Friendship or enemy something to work on,
The last few years have been tougher than most,
No one to blame pandemic the host,
A world that's so fragile with a lot going on,
It only takes one nutter to drop a huge bomb.
"Not all Queens have a loving King"
Quote By Poet
My King has not been seen,
I am his loving Queen.
He fled from the scene,
I did a very quick clean.
The Joker has turned mean,
some say he has gone green.
They say don't blame the Joker he is only a teen,
it is tough to be nineteen.
My King~my King are you in the forest that is evergreen,
hurry before they hunt down with gasoline.
The Queen awakes with a scream,
oh my what a weird dream.
Oh, Dear Robin, Keep Singing
Don’t fly away, little bird, stay near,
Your melodious song, a balm to my soul,
In your tender notes, my heart finds love,
A refuge from anxiety’s harsh toll.
Fly, O come, flutter through the open window,
Into the chamber of my soul,
With your song, hunt down the demons that linger,
Chase away the troubles that take their toll.
Fly, O settle on my soul, gentle creature,
For the human world seems shallow and hollow,
An emptiness masks their smiles, a facade,
Happiness departed long ago, they wallow.
When humans first set foot on this sacred earth,
They took away the magic of old,
Creativity’s tide washed away on distant shores,
Leaving passion adrift in stories untold.
Come and sing, before winter’s cruel snow,
Covers the land, and you seek distant shores,
Immigrate to new lands, as seasons flow,
Let your melody echo in my core.
Oh, Dear Robin, Keep Singing
Don’t fly away just yet,
Stay a while longer, my feathered friend,
Your song, a lifeline, I’ll never forget.
Let me tell you a story about
Merlin the Magical Cat
He could conjure up the best magical spells
but couldn't keep himself from being fat
He would eat up
all the treats
and then would go hunt down more
critters and creatures to eat
But he would try his magic
to reduce his gut
but the fat would just
rearrange towards his butt
"Meow, meow, meow!"
he would scream
Why oh why were the laws of nature
so mean!
So he decided to go on
an exercise program
where he would jog and run each day
along side his man
It worked as he grew skinnier
and skinnier
His magic in this instance was not needed
he was the winnier!
The howling could be coyote or wolf
The screaming is Tasmanian devil or banshee
Wait, is there such a thing?
I meant bobcat
It is evening now
Time for the nocturnal creatures to come out in full force
The puma, lynx and fox hunt down the prey that does not hide well
There are so many creatures, all tasty.
Where to begin?
Who to eat first?
A scream
Could have been a bunny or a mouse.
Dinner now
The moon shows shadows on the forest floor
a Luna moth glides by
the mosquitoes begin their feeding frenzy
Sucking the blood of mammals like tiny vampires
Bullfrog begins croaking a bit more loudly
Firefly flits around confidently
The evening has begun for the night creatures
Written 6-5-2022
Poetry Contest: Creatures of the Night
Sponsor: Julia Ward
T- Terrorists'
A- Advance
L- Leaves
I- Impenetrable
B- Blackness, thus
A- Accelerating
N- Nihilism!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
20 August 2021
-
*The Taliban are "intensifying the hunt-down" of individuals who worked with the Afghan government and its allied forces, conducting "targeted door-to-door visits" and arresting or threatening family members of "target individuals" unless they surrender, according to a confidential UN document.
Through the halls- I drowse without sleep.
I hide behind curtains that are cheap.
Into the night, they call my name.
I am here, I feel fame.
This place is evil, and I feel haunted.
With the living, I am taunted.
Put me to sleep, spare me rest!
Please take me to be blessed!
If only I could hunt down some sheep.
I would give up my family for them to keep.
SHATTERED SCREAMS
ECHOES OF OUR SILENT SCREAM,
TORTURE FROM A LEADER'S STEAM,
DWINDLING OF OUR NATIONS DREAM.
WE CHOOSE TO FIGHT AS A TEAM,
OR WATCH THEIR THEATRICS LIKE A FILM.
IF WE FIGHT, OUR VOCIFEROUS WEAPON IS HUSHED,
IF SILENT, OUR FUTURE IS CRUSHED.
TOLLGATE IS NOW THE BLOOD GATE,
WHERE HEROS OF JUSTICE LEARN THEIR FATE.
OUR VOICES ARE STRANGLED,
WE'RE MANHANDLED LIKE A STAR SPANGLED.
THE PILLARS OF OUR STRUCTURE IS FALLING.
WHO HURTS HIS CHILD AND FLOGS HER FOR WAILING?
RELEASING THE CAMOS, WOLFS IN DIRTY SHEEP'S CLOTHINGS
AND BLACKMARIAL TO HUNT DOWN CITIZENS.
INTERNAL TERROR SUMS UP MY ANALYSIS.
NIGERIA, YOUR ACTS DABBLES & DAGGERS MY HEART.
WHERE IS THE LABOUR OF OUR HEROS PAST?
OUR RESIDUE IS IN THE DEN OF THIEVES,
AND THE OLD CERTAINTY OF THE FUTURE HAVE BECOME MERE "IFs".
VickManuelPoetry {VMP}
Copyright© 14th Feb, 2021.
Policeman are indeed~
most brave.
Hunting down vicious,
mean, knaves.
I don't have the courage to
hunt down creeps,
As they find officers' lives.
hideously cheap.
They love brutal hatred
and maximim disorder.
These people, will never be my
sisters or brothers.
A society run my looting and
businesses burning?
Oh, Lord, please help stop, their
destructive yearnings.
Each day, bless all the men and
women in blue.
Who go out every and every shift to
project your family and you!.
2-10-2021
~ 3 ~
You can be a turtle, a deer, a buffalo, a dog, frog or a sphynx,
But you never know true love until you have fallen for a lynx.
I have a pair of them, and they adore me upside down and inside out.
They give me joy and companionship; they truly make me shout!
You may refer to them as bobcats, if you grew up seeing them this way.
No difference to Hansel and Gretel, they still hunt down their prey.
Their silent padded paws help them hunt with the best of the beast.
When they drag in their carnage, we have a wonderful meat feast!
They were found by me as babies after hunters got their mother.
They are happy with me, and even more happy with each other.
A brother and a sister, they like to prowl and hunt at night.
I sigh a relief when they come home, knowing they’re all right.
They can run fifty miles an hour, faster than most cars on our road.
I like watching them skedaddle, when they are in chase mode.
They like to curl at my feet and listen to stories, and sigh.
And no burglar has ever bothered me. Don’t you wonder why?
The professor opened the precarious black violin case
Knowing he was going to show us an animal full of grace.
I watched him with interest, for he is a musical maestro.
And, he told me, this is why in this home, mice do not grow.
Princess Ebony is an unusually perfect pitch melodic cat.
She hunkers down, and pretends she is a piece of a doormat.
This darling cat with enormous pretty yellow eyes,
Gave me a knowing smile, such a wonderful surprise.
She is my secret weapon, my hidden mouse-catching treasure.
Watching her hunt down and catch rodents is my absolute pleasure.
I have no idea where he has hidden away his Stradivarius,
But I walk gingerly past Princess Ebony, my fate precarious.
You see the speck in my eyes
But in yours, a log stares out in disguise.
You always point a finger
And my dilemma is the trigger
For you to always judge me.
Your words hunt down
My pride and esteem to the ground.
Words that spike souls
And hurt hearts.
All you do is judge me!
When the table turns
And the same fire burns
You to make life bitter
Would you do better?
When the table turns
And the same pain pierces
to put you on the spotlight
How well would you fight?
When the table finally turns
And you wear my shoes
How far would you go?
Corona virus!
Beautifully sculptured like a jewel
Armless, with bulges of a crown
But only those who narrowly escaped
With scars of your sharp fangs
Can tell the potency of your venom.
A merciless human predator
Riding on the wings of morning zephyr
He rears his tent in the ventilation room
Where fresh and expired air mingles
Then strangles his preys
Left gasping for oxygen
Till they become cold and stiff.
You walked into our land armless
Yet even armed men trembled
Naked-head birds that made news
And the guardians of skulls
All retreated shamefully
Into dark barren caves.
You have set humanity on a verge
Where the sole prayer is survival
A brutal infinitesimal entity
Bound on eradicating mankind
Indeed you are an armless beast.
The halls are vacant
The malls are barren
The rails are silent
The roads are empty
The airways are clear.
They say you were a gentleman
Resting in the veins of forest dwellers
Before our kindred in the East
Went out to hunt down bush meat
And returned with a big catch.
One city eat meat
The whole world washed hands
With perfumed sanitizers
That meat must be a great one!
The day after Christmas
Each year, without fail,
I hunt down my calendars
Since they're on sale.
I head to the bookstore
And search through the racks
For the wall-hanging ones
Then I look through the stacks
Of the page-a-day versions;
I purchase both kinds
And I won't leave until
I'm content with my finds.
Could I buy them before
And the sales disregard?
Well, the answer's "Of course!"
But old habits die hard.
A day at the bank,
I could never forget,
With the scowl-faced monsters all around.
Am I in the prehistoric Jurassic age? I thought.
They smell the greens so well,
their ear for the tinkles so clear.
Those radiating smiles,
reflecting their urge to hunt down their prey,
those who just walked down to them unaware.
Their transition from the meek to the prowl,
and from prowl to scowl.
A day in the bank I could not forget.
@Chitra Arun
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