Long Adders Poems
Long Adders Poems. Below are the most popular long Adders by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Adders poems by poem length and keyword.
Some people have purloined from me,
That which meant what I mean to be,
Wicked witches and wizards in hidden lands,
Have taken my life from my hopeless hands.
But now I will fight till my very last breath,
To ensure they all burn and boil to death.
To them I now say, listen now and well,
I can hear your measly chimes and bells.
Ring them! If you will in the wind,
But the wind is mine, as I am its kin.
Your double bubbles that have wrought toil and trouble,
Are but failed effervescence I'll now transmute into rubble.
Triple the rippling coils of stubble,
On my fiery face to burst your bubbles.
Floating from which cauldron you all could round,
About in ways your entrails flush when brown.
Adders forks and stings and stones with toads beneath,
Are but the fodder you floss from each o'yore stool-stained teeth.
You think despair and desperate dreams,
Of a lost life in your world will destroy me?
Please, don't make me laugh, you know
Laughter is not what you want us to show.
You can take my money or my college degree,
But these things are not what it means to be.
I am joy and youth and love,
And I see all below and so above.
My body is mine to break and bend,
Just as my mind is my psychic end.
I know you're frightened of my body and mind,
Together they work for all of mankind.
Unlike you and your disgusting race,
That aims to torture, you're all a disgrace.
But your power is weak, limited to what,
I think therefore I am going to shut.
All of the doors I have opened to you,
And banish from my brain all that you do.
Lay down noiselessly,
as long as you stay still
and breathe lightly, then they will ignore you.
You can smile under your eyelids,
you can pretend that they have legs
and wear business suits.
You can imagine milking the poison
out of their hollow fangs;
like sperm it will ease your mind.
In the viper pit
let the forked tongue's sense your resignation,
let the forked tongue's lick your meekness.
Let the forked tongue's wrap you up
in their sinuous dreams.
On Monday morning they will be waiting
to interrogate your presence,
Their tight shiny pants dick slick
and cocksure. Their pointing shoulder pads
puffed up like rock adders,
high hips sharp and akimbo
pencil-sharp eyes probing,
testing your capacity to still undulate.
If you are male, screw red thorns upon
your rodent parts.
The mice around your spine
are freezing,
wrap them in fox skins
you haggled for at the meat-market.
Grin with your back teeth.
If you are female,
If you have hands,
then hold them up, reveal your armpits,
cream your pheromone-laced musk
into their morning coffee.
Loll with the water-cooler moccasins,
laugh at their venomous jokes.
Feed them scraps of velvety rabbit skin
you have shaved off your inner thighs.
Wear your skirt just a little bit higher.
At the end of the work day,
if your eyes are filled with dried-up slime
remove the crud with a cattle-prod
then slither into a deep sleep.
Dream of eating the juicy white meat
of roasted pythons,
or disemboweling a writhing nest
of Anacondas
with a razor-sharp, steely forked tongue.
.
Gangsta politicians,
falling stars ... twinkling
of an eye
disappearing
Leper lips
halitosis blowing
Got there gun clips
and stacked deck
poker chips ...
Sin City bullets overflowing
Body politic,
staph tongue infection
Still the voters ain’t
getting sick
and tired of the lies
Coming from the mouth of frogs,
whose sticky words
attract a swarm of flies
Gangsta politicians,
falling stars ... Babel Tower wishing
Twitchy finger hearts
on the nuclear trigger
Hope got a tarry start
Poof!
The next moment
whole cities were disappearing
Spotted skin suits,
so profiteering from the mutated pain
Rotten to the root,
nether mind laws neglect the suffering
You can scream
up to the top tear of your lungs,
but corporate desert adders can’t hear
Dare to dream,
poll take the right party plunge ...
Now, does that pledge lessen the fear?
Gangsta politicians
demand sycophant loyalty
Falling stars
want your eyes bowed down
before their flag
Begging for a peace of crumb
on your trembling knees
Can’t you see,
can not you read
the tea leaves?
Future past
is on a thundercloud roll
Terrifying prophecies
have so long ago foretold
how the end’s gonna be
Gangsta politricians,
Rublecon paws ... blood-licking
Houdini toes,
the next moment,
without a cash trace disappearing
Falling stars
want you joined
to their holster hips
Taking a serpentine bullet ride
to the bottomless pit
Listen to what the snake charmers say:
We be sulfuric scaly bellies,
flicking poisonous tongues on the telly
Idoly speak pure Orwellie —
Down is up ... famine be a feast sup
Tell money hungry fools they’re full of it,
when their ears drink
from our lung vault empty purse cup
Listen to what a snake charmer spray:
Me leprechaun lips
speak titan talk ... phat pocket swellie
I spit brass piss,
and call it golden rain,
on your lemming brain grey umbrellie
These cobra eyes
tell a little robbing hoodie lie
each bent cross day
Then me boast the Big Lie,
sell it at bottom feeder price ...
make dim blind mice pay
when they look the other way
Me cockatrice cries
fill your belly full of lies
Empty turtle shell truth
is the swastika soup
I love to pour in toilet bowl mouths
Hateful language is the milk poppy hex curse
that I sugar Cain bosom fed mules
from their piggy snout Balaam Iscariot birth
Us posh puff adders
love sending toadies on a hallucinogenic,
golden goose leap ...
Flying locust pestilent blind onto the dung pile
Pot belly boa roil bad luck ...
paper chase pillow tucked
Cannabis dreams sucked in by serpentine wile
We scaly belly anaconda roll sway
with a slithering smile ...
Giving foible fools a terrible tummy ache ...
tasting maggot foul, constipated lies
boiled cannibal style
True desert memories of my time spent in the Libyan desert. (Very early 60's)
The link re. the last senryu gives the details of how a young soldier lost his life by ignoring orders. Not a friend of mine, but we were comrades in arms.
HAIKU & SENRYU
night time desert... cold
can freeze... belies the hot days
no moon... pitch black night
~
daytime desert... hot
the sun takes no prisoners
yet nature survives
~
tortoise... chameleons
scorpions... puff adders... flies
shy desert wonders
~
two four week tours
my work... I endured
free time exploring
~
North Africa
unhospitable deserts
watermelons... cool
~
there are hidden fears
world war two ammunitions
bomb... mines... shells... killers
~
look... don't touch... report
standing orders .... don't deny
one did and died
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The link below will take you to a page where the young soldier's death is recorded. Please note this was not entered as html, I used converter entities to get it up in the html format. If I have broken the rules I apologise and will remove it but for those interested copy it now.
http://www.farmersboys.com/Roll_of_Honour_Pages/G_Evans.htm
<a href="http://www.farmersboys.com/Roll_of_Honour_Pages/G_Evans.htm">Farmers Boys</a>
Picnic time Aussie style
Picnic time 12 noon, is dinner time
Was had beside the river
We would grill our lamb chops
On pieces of fencing wire
Quartpot was all a quiver
Tea was cast into the old Quartpot
When the water almost boiled
And boiling tea still I can see
Tastes different I recall
Building the fire
watch the death adders ire
if you pick him up with the wood
foot long death, invisible yes
city dwellers often caught, it’s not good
If the Geegar ant gets in your pants (tiny black ant)
You will know he is there in a bit
And the Bullant one inch
Will bite like a pinch (pain)
His mates will attack,
you are it Don Johnson
Ah yes them little geegars
will bite n smite you well
and bullants come like an army
advancing into hell
If you get ants in your pants
it is no fun, the geegars are biting now
you are grabbing gripping awful ants
until you get the cow
Yes little death adder you don't see till you step on him, then both ends
head and tail strike at your foot. If you saw em first you stomped on the head.
The Brown snake the most common you will see, his head neck can flare
a bit like old Cobra, and he will kill you quicker......cheers mate.....Don
Corrupt farm, disdainful politics
Corrupt farm, unedifying ethics
The Lion gorges the subservient animals but not grass page
Or even does he gobble other feeds in the forest sage
The pronghorns fight it hard to progress
And they feed with apprehension and distress.
When they do require of the Lion—
To give a good reason why he devours them like any minion,
He reminds them of being "The King of the Jungle"
So he continues his diabolical project as a noble.
The grass and fowls of the air remain spared
'Cause no, not sufficient antelopes to make them seared.
The foreign vipers intrude awry
With an acclamation of being their profound territory
But they have come with the interest of politics
Dirty politics!
So they play it well, even more than the crown himself.
These adders bite the innocent beasts of their treasures to will of self.
With the injection of putridity and selfishness
Their anchor of theft and greediness.
Corruption drinks poverty!
All because of a bad conductor of no hearty.
That first non-rhythmical matter,
Floated on the new dust of light,
To whet the eleventh spark clatter,
Such that its dividend split tight;
A web, a sea of ringed atmosphere,
Then a cob of meteoric compression,
Hurling towards a black collapse here,
To dent the shock supernovas intervention;
With planets duetting their sweeps in silence,
The night is not black and suffers a blow,
Identified deductively but with great nuance,
The waves glinting the bounce and the flow.
God became a man, human to the core,
Not an apple, lamp, priest or Ferrari,
Even though Genesis incepts with lore,
Given god as a construct, apple’s Atari;
Christianity grabs god indeed as a man,
Possibly to concede that a human coasts,
Crucially opening herbs and aromatics fan,
To the differential and to the weaker posts.
Life without a momentum blackadders,
Would not summate to conviviality,
Rejuvenation oscillations sprite the adders,
Ionotrophic energy comes up from banality.
Rhoda Monihan
Hopkins snakes
Old Hopkins had a rope ladder,
To keep snakes out of the house,
Snake killing sticks under the rain water tank,
In the shower, where a snake ate the mouse,
The fowls all lived up in the trees,
Brownies were sucking eggs down, (deadly mulga snakes, dozens)
The bantams were sitting on eggs in bird nests,
Till the chickens were walking around,
Half wacked Jack, demented, said some,
Went to see a drover come through,
On a grey brumby horse, naked of course,
An was strip bollicky too, (horse riding naked)
Hopkins he said “me two best friends,
Are me shovel an hurricane light,”
He’d be punching holes ,
With crowbar alone ,
And fencing on into the night,
So if ya go near StGeorge ,
where the snakeys do gorge,
dodge death, climb up the rope ladder,
if the brownies don’t get ya,
death adders aint better,
just go to the pub it’s your shout!
Don Johnson 10-sep-11
I like this one because it is true story
Destroyer A Poet ~
Contest Name Your (OWN) favorite poem......
Across the shadowed byte desert, a lone warrior limped.
Impelled by a spirited misanthropy, he plied the
idle partitions of mind and thirst.
An orphaned amorist, passionate, but alone.
And as he stumbled, the adders whispered hoarsely, and
the diodes siphoned the darkness, revealing the
atrophy, the phantom.
The showering bits, hardwired through his dreams,
despised his trophy; reality.
It was stormy with the pathos of insanity...
---===|||===---
And still, he wandered vainly through this parched land,
searching; His reward glimmering quietly across the code,
which danced between his groping fingers.
Aphorisms roamed in the chaos, and margins shifted
as he compiled the disorder which roared within his mind.
Slowly, his child emerged. At last, execution!
---===|||===---
But the young one, so perfect, so delicate, required more
than he could give. The decision was made...
| end parent process |