Lie In Wait Poems | Examples

Chess

It’s utterly broken, all of it, 
and I am left with so many of the pieces
 (weighing them about) 
and for the first time in my life I say,
 let it fall as it will. 
I am not the glue. 
Let the King draw back to his corner, 
the rook stand by, 
the knight be lost in turns, 
the queen lie in wait..
the pawns have retired, 
and my little bit upon the board? 
She has found repose in the farthest corner 
in what one would hope is hope, 
but a striker stands by and has no other move… 
so she waits for her end 
because it comes in every dream. 
No, she whispers.

she’ll be right mate

plying females with manmade bait ~ is not an animalistic trait 

beasts instinctively lie in wait ~ a misogynist will dope its date 


By
David Kavanagh

The Shroud Of The Silent Depths

By Imran Ahmed


The Grave Looms Like A Storm On The Horizon

Its Darkness Wraps Around Me Like A Heavy Cloak

I Think Of It And My Eyes Lose Their Luster

As Fear Gnaws At My Soul Like A Starving Beast

They Say The Earth Below Is A Hornet’s Nest

Where Snakes Lie In Wait And Scorpions Lurk In The Shadows

Their Sting Is The Last Nail In The Coffin For The Sinful

A Reckoning Written In Stone Unyielding And Cruel

Fear Grips Me Like A Vice Shaking Me To The Core

For My Sins Weigh On Me Like Chains I Cannot Break

My Body Is A Leaf In The Wind Trembling Before Fate

Yet My Faith Is A Rock That No Tide Can Erode

He Who Pulled Me From The Jaws Of Despair

Who Put Food On My Plate When The Cupboard Was Bare

Will Not Leave Me To Be A Sitting Duck In The Dark

The Grave’s Night Will Fade Its Terrors Will Turn To Dust

And His Light Will Lead Me To Sleep As Sound As A Child.

PTSD

Here I lie in wait,
for the enemy at the gate,
it's not like they haven't been here before,
carrying their AK74,
Isis or cartel they're all bad,
what they've done haunts me till I'm sad,
every shadow's move catches my eye,
this may be the night my enemies die,
even at night my pistol sights glow,
it becomes so quiet I hear my blood flow,
nobody ever does come to my door,
but the voice in my head says I must wait even more.

The Fickled Pickled Herd

So quick to judge any breach of etiquette
Such breaches at the whim of the fickled herd 
What is there to do but watch your back
Or compulsively stay in line
Or just say f*ck it! 
And be on your way
Because no matter how hard you try
The cancerous cancelling crowd will lie in wait
To pounce on what was once their own

Just look at what’s happened to Trump and Musk
Each darlings of their leftist peers 
Until they weren’t 
Not for changing in any fundamental way
But just in their need to keep being themselves  
Without allegiance to the fickled pickled herd

If anything the life of a human
Arcs from bound and dependent
To independent and free
Free to chose and free to lose
And so we grow
And can come to know 
What it is to be mature
If it’s the last thing we do

(11/13/24)

Yes, No, or later

Yes, No, or later
Miracle man
10/21/2024

God,
Oft times in prayer I’ve aired my wants to thee,
and many times You’ve became my arbitrator.
Because You saw a future that I couldn’t see,
Your answer wasn’t yes or no, but perhaps later.

I know not what might lie in wait ahead,
and things I want are not always best for me.
God’s voice to me I must always firmly imbed,
so that in prayer He will always hear my plea.

Same Old - Same Old

Judging opinions
by their age
proscriptions 
lie in wait

Consensus stained
with fear and guilt
folly 
overstates 

Knowledge of others
unknown to self
deception points
one way

Value weighed
in layers of dust
the truth held
—far at bay

(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)

My Own Demon of Destruction

When the challenge has become the quest
The pressure is great to outshine
The fear tries to crawl to the surface
Again will I fall victim to my ambition 
The stacks so high
In time I have months
But I want it all now
As it all sucks me in
I can't help but to panic 
When all sleep goes away
I lie awake in my rebuttals 
Can I become what I wish to be
Or is this mask so great
It hides all potential I have
I look at this life as an constant reminder
There is no place in this world for a quitter
I can point blame
I can ravish the truth
But the moments still remain
There's no time to waste
As this life will fade
I must remain true
And figure a way past my last self
To what this self wants to be now
Away from all that is strange
And conquer all that lie in wait
My own demon of destruction.

Chasing a Leprechaun

Through thickened woods and thorny brush
I chased the elf in silenced hush
Around intoxicating pines
And mossy-covered hanging vines
Taking care to mark the way 
With petals dropped from rose bouquet
My distance safe from prying eyes
And forest creatures’ wilding cries

I stalked the fairy to his lair
With visions of the gold we’d share
I’d lie in wait and pounce at will
And marvel at my stealthy skill
Finally, his hideaway
Nestled deep in green decay
Nothing left to do but wait
And dream about my wealthy fate

The leprechaun began his work
Upon his face, the strangest smirk
But still he toiled with tools and nails
Evoking lovely olden tales
He cut and stitched a dozen shoes
The crafty work, a clever ruse
For soon his suit of green did fade
Together with his sly charade

The tap, tap, tap, a lullaby 
Beneath the starry moonlit sky
My dreams of fortune quickly gone
Replaced by sunny rays of dawn
The cagey man was smart and swift
And left me with a parting gift
A pair of shoes so shrewdly soled
With dazzling heels of gleaming gold

Run the Race

Where tender shoots each day birth new mercies,
cultured in your word, my young spirit grows.

From sun up, to down, your Spirit rises,
I find myself humbled by your incense.

I heed not to tread on the serpent's path,
for the weathered road is rarely righteous.

Though deep pits and snares lie in wait for me,
Salvation's call guides me not to stumble.

In arduous times, you bring me a friend,
someone to share life's treasures and beauty.

My heart is overcome with joy for God,
for he has blessed me in my downcast state.

Aged I am, but ever new by his grace,
I attend to my own kin, my own flock.

In turn, God shines favour on my own kin,
and they too, go have kindred of their own.

For as I have not strayed from you, Lord God,
they too, have not departed from your ways.

These years I have sought your face, ran the race.
Now, hold me in your arms, and take me home.



03.09.2024

Time is the Dagger

In time the enemy lie in wait
Everything you hold back on now will never be finished
A surprise  attack will come
It could be the end
So why live like there is no beginning
Life evolves you change with every season
Why not put it all out that
Everything you are 
Proudly show the scars of this battle
The war is only a war if you make it that
People will hurt you
Knock your spirit down
But you can raise up
You can be the one they all remember
Even if the all is just a few
Your impact is real
Your love is felt
You are what dreams are made of
You are the source of your success
Take pride in that take care in that
Always remember to stay humble and thankful
Cause time is the dagger.
And the control is not only your own.

If you wish to conquer my soul in shreds of forever

If you wish to conquer my soul in shreds of forever,
Drop your mask and carry me in your embrace,
As a panther, lie in wait for me, not to steal me away,
But to dance with me in the love's palace we yearn for.
The storm inside of me is silently disarmed,
In the quiet chambers, with the murmur of an abandoned river,
Cast my becoming into the future's pastels,
And blend into my passage, smooth as a muse in flight.
If you add to our struggles the salt and bitterness of life,
Wield your character like an art of pure mastery,
Your sincerity will be a lighthouse in the darkness,
And may you wander far from the sneaky chains of deductions.
Rather, go and sculpt your language from mute gestures,
Mysterious, as the eyes speak what words cannot,
And let your steps be guided by robust melodies,
That feed my hungry eyes with beauty and shape.
Now follow the steps that promise ungrasped bonds,
And don't forget the light that must end the enshrouded spectacle,
So that in the end, my soul may be enmeshed in your nets,
And you enclose it in a labyrinth of love, to gift it immortality and the eternal.

Millennium's Age

To commit known murder in God's name
Is vanity of the most insane.

Why must they hide their faces
If they are not men ashamed?
Why do they lie in wait
To ply a terrorist trade.
Little school-age children
Are trained to war and hate.
Any others unlike them
Who won't assimilate?
There will always be another
Filling billions more graves.
Pit brother against brother
Throughout millenniums age.
While those Innocent suffer
Yet the guilty take no blame.
Why must they hide their faces
If they are are not men ashamed?

Tortured Poet Extolling Rhetoric

I am not a Poet

I know this fact true and full well 

In the orthodox conventional literal way

As I am not able to use set standard form

So what I write

Therefore does not conform 

So I agree wholeheartedly not disagree 

Technically I am not a Poet

All I am is simply someone who

Likes to write and comment about things

That don't necessarily fit any set remit 

But yet I still want to have a go

So I end up having to encroach

And impose and join in other ways

And blur the lines and rules of engagement

Because although I may not be a poet

1 thing I can admit is this

I suffer through my words

Like any tortured Poet would

As to me writing is more about

Exposure of one's true self soul and heart

Than a form of compliance to an art 

If that stifles my openness and integrity 

And does not keep my demons at bay

Rather lets them lie in wait

And my silence further leads onto

Yet more inevitable tortured mistakes

Goddess of the Hunt

You are pursuing me

As I dash across the fields of intellect, among the
flowers of humor


You are pursuing me

across logic, through brambles of emotion and across
large vast bodies of physical intrigue


I know a hunter when I see one

As I usually hunt on my own


You will find me an elusive prey

as I have long learned to keep the baying hounds and
even those that lie in wait at bay



-  Goddess of the Hunt, Susan Manley (C) Artimus, 10-11-06

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