Leap Out Poems | Examples

Scared to death

As shadows laid where none could go,
The dark sky etched fear in a scrawl,
Making hearts to leap out of sight,
Silhouettes of danger scared all,
A cooly breeze whispered the fright,
Meanwhile, death crept closer too slow.

Birthing Day

My friend said, “Happy Birthing Day!”
I couldn’t help but grin
Because this marks the date in which
My son’s life did begin.

Some memories leap out at me – 
I know just what I wore
And the way I woke my brother
As we headed out the door.

He had come to visit, hoping
He’d be there to celebrate
The arrival of his nephew
And he’d not have long to wait.

But before we left, I tapped him
Saying we did not have long.
We were headed to the hospital.
He yelled, “Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just going to have a baby!”
Then we laughed, for as he woke
He’d entirely forgotten;
It became a family joke.

Hours later we would welcome
To this world our baby boy
Who has, through the years and counting,
Brought a lifetime filled with joy.

Crappy Mother's Day Minichu

Son said he’d cook a meal
Relax mum, chill out and take the weight off your feet
It’s a deal!

I smell burning
I leap out of my comfy seat
Churning

Meal burned
Mother’s day treat
Spurned

Son said he’d cook a meal
I leap out of my comfy seat
Spurned

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03/18/21

April Fool

The first day of April 2020
and, I’m waiting for someone
anyone
to leap out and shout
“April fool!”
Somehow, though
I already know
that just isn’t going to be
it definitely is April fool’s day, but
for sure this viral pandemic is no joke.

Leap Out of Your Self

Follow a path that is trod by no footsteps
down to a flowing river.
There is a fish in the water
that has swallowed your joy.

Watch it leap, its silver form
diving into the air for no reason at all.
It has no feet, but watch it dance anyway.
See how it gulps the air that would kill it,
teasing death, then plunging back
into the sparkling river water again.

Sit yourself down
by the clear and rushing flow,
politely address the dancing fish,
be respectful.

Ask it to share its joy,
for there are no parts to joy,
it cannot be divided or parceled,
remember that you once came from the water,
you still have its salt within you.

The fish will see this
and it will offer you the joy
that never left you -
you left it.

The Night I Died

The night I died 
 I was not asleep, this was not a nightmare
my eyes were open as I struggled to wake up 
from the deep hole of sleep.
 I had sunk into a sinkhole of sleep
that could only end in unconsciousness drifting into death
helpless as an autumnal leaf falling off an oak.
With all my might with every fibre of my aged body
I heaved myself to the surface.
I landed on the wooden floor 
tried to get my breathing under control
My wife came running, asked what happened?
Nothing dear, nothing at all.
I was looking for a coin that fell out of my pocket
when undressing.
My head was still fuzzy by unwanted sleep.
I had died, but it was untimely 
my heroic leap out of bed had saved me.

Where Did She Go

Used to be when I was really me
She would leap out alive
so full of life and cockiness
the time I really thrived

Then told it's not allowed anymore
it's no good for your health
so back inside she hid away
no more my confident self

She fights to come back out again
I can feel her deep inside
pushing against the cage bars
desperate to feel alive

At times she escapes out here again
ready to dance and play
I need to help her be free
to finally have her way

Remember when you raced away
with a handsome man aside
music belting out so loud
your smile so wild and wide

Dancing down the street with glee
in stockings and heels so high
only had to choose and point
to find with whom to lie

That seems so long and far away
lost in the mists of time
that dancing girl so long gone now
let her out to shine

Age

Age is just a number we have all said,
But we all keep a lower number in our heads,
Age makes the old want a nap in bed,
While the young want to leap out of bed.

We are told to act our age,
And not take something from the younger ones page,
But to age with dignity and not become enraged,
With difficulties of life as we age.

We must act with grace,
With tribulations we face,
And our true age we must embrace,
Leaving only smiles and kindness for others to trace.

The Word Cliche

I am stuck in a cliche
the narrative recurs
I need to leap out
As I am in loops...
The sentences just re-happen
   the words repeat
Oh I have to portray these beautiful phenomenas I encounter continually, 
in the deepness of self, so insightfully... 
 but where
 where do I find the words.. so clear sightedly
 where else than from my inner singing birds
 Oh my recollection,  my seeking descriptive want
 When on demand... it suffers and retreats 
 I stop, and I insist
please I must find what I need!
 No, 
No, I am looping 
the narrative can reoccur...
but its different...  look, there actually is something to allure!

 oh my word
 here they are!
 the words
they've come back!
 I wish that words, I won't ever lack.

Trixie Is the Main Conspirator

titters and whispers of the evening
elusive to my conscious mind
bantering and laughter

they make fun of my nightly death
Trixie is the main conspirator
I am out of body, floating 

Dare each other to give me the best line ever
I hear it upon awakening
in that ending of a poem voice

best poem ever.
I leap out of bed.
Have to bathroom before it is gone.

Too late. Damned muses tittering.

Happy Jack's Beard

Had a beard since nineteen sixty-two
Hate to think what's underneath
Might even be a family of boat people
Maybe an old Christmas wreath

Heard that it's even quite possible
Animals have been known to survive
In the depth of my hairy countenance
Where they multiply and thrive

Haven't felt much movement lately
Though sometimes I feel a twinge
Perhaps whatever is living in there
May have gone on a drunken binge

Bottom line is I'll still have this beard
When they lower me into the ground
Don't dare shave it off for fear little beasties
Will leap out and scurry around

In This Forest of Majestic Beauty

In this forest of majestic beauty
immersed in idyllic serenity,
one can find that total freedom
away from noisy crowds 
and rumbling streets.

In this forest of majestic beauty
when sun rays filter through branches
to warm them from the frost of a chilly morning,
the grey sparrows and the yellow warbles
are a delight to hear in spring, in summer and fall
as a venture on this path little known.

In this forest of majestic beauty,
one can hear the flapping of butterflies
and see their sumptuous colors that attract
the unhurriedly, middle-aged horse-rider.

In this forest of majestic beauty
no wind is rough, but gentle and soothing;
come here and spend a pleasant afternoon
sitting by a small pond where fragile frogs
leap out and run, too afraid of the raucous ravens.

Written on 7/14/2020

I Am

I AM®

I am
Arthur, Cupid and the edge of a bow
Soldier of 9 lives in this generation of hue
His armoury brandished by men
And sculpted by the One God,
Broken, battered and buried soul
In dismal and dark crypts of life
But leap out of the dungeon of obscurity
To set pace for a long but new voyage.
I am
A train in motion; watch me to catch a glimpse,
I am a word in flight
Write it down quickly for it last
I am a prophesy in season
To come to pass in due course
I am a bubble bustling in a glass
Can you feel the magic?
I am a man in race
You can catch the moment
But not the main man
Catch the benefits of my pain,
My gallantry lore and conferring boons,
My chariot comes but now
Right on the move to a spectacle
You feel the snap wind.
Catch what I leave behind -
My legacy, my story and triumph,
Hear the fading sound
Of the chariot of fire basking away in explosives.
On the move like my fathers before me
Taping from the drip of my crimson river,
Draw the benefit from my predestined existence.
I am
The man that is loosed
Not the man on the loose.

VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2016.

Happy Jack's Beard

Had a beard since nineteen sixty-two
Hate to think what's underneath
Might even be a family of boat people
Maybe an old Christmas wreath

Heard that it's even very possible
For animals to flourish and survive
In the depth of my hairy countenance
Where they multiply and thrive

But I haven't felt any movement lately
Though sometimes I feel a twinge
Perhaps whatever is living in there
May have gone on a drunken binge

Bottom line is I'll still have this beard
When they lower me into the ground
Don't dare shave for fear little beasties
Will leap out and scurry around

I Want To Fly

Through the window, I see collected raindrops rolling down.
I blow my breath, erase, and clear a small space 
To see what lies beyond.

Dripping, dropping raindrops, like 
Drops of pain easing with the blowing wind,
And separating dark clouds. 

The rain collects on the window, 
Dissipating slowly.

I open the window wide and leap out
Onto the soft wet grass, out onto fields 
Underneath splitting dark clouds.

I feel the last rain drops touching
My cocoon and before they evaporate
I feel the first rays of sun, and fly.

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