Long Pounces Poems
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I am reliving June 29th, 2014, a warm, happy day.
Four of my grandchildren are here, spending a week.
They are each in a garbage can filled with water shooting each other
with water pistols, and especially loving that they can shoot me.
I am grandma, and this is Cousin’s Camp. Rules are out the window.
We have been outside, running around screaming and laughing.
Cali and Molly are ten and almost nine. Jack and Tony are both seven.
We run in to grab up multi colored popsicles; the dog pounces ahead.
Grandpa hides in office; a dark room, secure with his ten video screens.
Everyone is happy, enthusiastic about the possibilities of this week.
My grandchildren decide to make a list of all the things they want to do.
Boys are shouting ideas, but the more assertive girls have their own.
Girls are the writers, so their ideas are going on first. I relish this week.
Knowing that I will have few days this joyful and merry again in my life.
I am grateful, angel of death, you allowed me to relive this day.
Thank you! I loved seeing the last thing on their list too.
Spray Grandma with the hose.
It is a sun splashed day; the air is silent with the sound of waves
from an ocean moving to the rhythm of crying gulls.
The sand underneath my feet is warm and soothing.
The crashing waters from a wind sculpted waterfall swims
into the arms of its mother sea.
It is a private beach at a spot in the world
were the Caribbean Sea and The Atlantic Ocean hug.
It is a strange sensation of hot then cold, that tease the senses.
The young woman with me is my lover of four years.
The golden rays of light from the bright morning star
lives in the flow of her platinum blond hair.
In her eyes I can see the bright clear blue ocean, warm,
but with a piercing love glare that sends shivers up my spine.
We are young, in love and safe
inside a perfect glossy postcard background.
Her red lips and light drenched skin glows
with the beauty of this perfect Jamaican day.
Without a thought I grab the back of her head,
jerking my lover's whole body towards me
locking her in the strength of my grasp
inviting her to quench my desire.
I bite her lips before engaging in a deep passionate kiss
and remove a barely there bikini from her statuesque figure.
She embraces me as I lift her in my arms
naked for all the Gods to observe.
I set her down under the refreshing flow of the rushing waterfall.
She attempts to pull at me, but I deny her.
I hold back both her arms and use my mouth
to suckle her all the time absorbing the beating waters
that kneads my flesh, like so much dough.
Suddenly I set my angel free. She pounces on me,
like a lioness in heat famished for the taste of flesh.
The world disappears and I find myself willingly trapped in a void.
Nature's voice conducts an orchestra of emotion.
We writhe in the ecstasy of touch.
With the strokes of a divinity fingers paint a portrait of rapture.
We dance now to the precise notes
of an escape into the arms of serenity.
In one fluid movement, our bodies become one.
There is no end to the divine flavors we share.
Cooling waters flame our sins.
We explode like a building
imploding gracefully to the roar of infinite sound.
Until eventually we pass out naked
locked in each others arms.
We find ourselves lying on the warmth
of the fine white sand beach when we awaken,
tattooed in the telling shades of a Jamaican suntan.
I never leave my point blank
Point Blank!
At the point of a saber
Now we are at the point of danger
The point shatters
Friends stab me in the back with daggers and i stagger
Grab her,Nah! but I'll take a stab at it
Aw! I never set hearts on fire or dash hopes at all
I aspire to inspire you
Now desire is a furnace
burning inside a word of encouragement
So i pour on your heart soft pure words
Uplifting impressions that just may last forever
Or at least brighten your outlook on life
And rare is a one who can make your day better
No! I don't consider to compare myself
to the choisest comparisons available
You know Stallions fight for the power
Men are no different
expect their words to be slippery as a serpents
Detect lip service
as they profess their minds to be a place of higher learning
I crash and burn then
I don't attempt to reach the highest level of stupidity
Echos of Justice descend into frescoes of the Liberty bell
Fractured as it is now
Snap^ Ice bergs rise up as you fall off the Ice shelf
Glaciers crack_-tons of ice grind into sluishes of Beautiful Love stories
Harmony sings happiness restored
Thoughts shared in the stillness
We can hear each other
Zero seconds to a Sonic boom!
O days left
It's Autumn and the leaves fall now
Flowers fade and overhead
shooting stars give their last light of Glory
And now new stars are born
to carry on, to die for a wish, to create hope
A voice coil expands
A tiger pounces on a lion
Two young cubs involved in a power struggle
I fall into Indian paintbrushes
I hear the petals crush doubts
No doubt about it
Our God who lives, flows in waters,
drifts in clouds and glows in snow,
flashes silver fish in shallows,
darts in darkness round the rocks,
blooms afresh as showers bring flowers,
freshens scent for bugs and bees.
Here we live together woven,
one with God in wonder held.
Our God who lives, moves with breezes,
flies in skies and travels far,
floats with owls to quarter meadows,
dives with gannets in the surf.
on the wing with birds migrating –
swallows, swifts and butterflies;
Though they fly in all directions,
God is with them in their flight.
Our God lives, alert and watching,
over newborn in the nest,
keeps them warm with fur or feather,
crouches, pounces on the hunt,
scuttles, burrows, refuge seeking –
fox and mouse, God lives in each.
On the ground we are together,
held by God in pain or joy.
Our God dies, entombed with Jesus,
from the earth he on us breathes
autumn scents from leaves decaying,
whiffs of springtime gifting life.
Grubs and worms soil over turning;
naught is wasted, all made new.
Like all creatures we are mortal,
as with Christ we die and live.
God lives anew, now arising,
swelling oceans, winds astir,
croaks to us as frogs are courting,
calls to us in curlew's song,
shines from corals colours gleaming,
rests in shade of leaves above.
Called to serve your living creatures
guide us God to tend and care.
Holy Spirit ever moving,
always leading, out ahead.
Come let's find what wisdom's showing,
lightly tread among what's spread,
gaze in wonder and amazement,
serve and share the gifts of life.
God who raises Christ in glory
lift us all to praise and sing.
Tunes: Abbot's Leigh, Blaenwern, Hyfrydol 8787.D
A re-write of Our God Flies
Oh what God wish you could see
When you look up to beauty of the skies
The Lion of this world that preys on lambs
King of the beast is the name given
For he seeks and destroys all life
None could stand up to challenge
He sneaks up and pounces on the lost
Until one day a Lamb that he killed showed back up
He knew this one he should flee from
For this one he quickly lost a taste
This small humble lamb had defeated this beast
That put fear and joy in the Lion at the same time
This Lamb is now protected from all harm
And received name King of Kings ruler of all
That another shall find peace , joy , love , and comfort.
For through Him this world beast is defeated
That he might one day lay down with the Lamb
Mankind is the beast that fights against God, only through Jesus shall one receive
Life and spirit to destroy all we have gained in this world, to become molded
And purified into a Child of God
Smoke emanating from heart,
Stirring ideas sprout in brain,
Giving flush to my face...........
Path is scary,
Heart pounces to protrude out
the breast bone,
Legs shake in trepidation.........
I am awake with heavy eyelids,
With hope that glitters in my
eyes,
And arms await a tight
embrace..............
Candles glow in pitch dark,
Only bright spots that
enlighten,
Moments of togetherness......
You tune up to my delight,
Addicted to me, a surprise,
Smoke engulfs............
To nobody's sight..........!!!
Rhyme -go jazzy
Contest - Groove it
Name and theme - Smoke
Written by:
Dr. Upma Sharma
On 19/10/13
Now entered in contest by SKAT A- your best romantic poem
Awarded 5th place win
So when the webbed-tide snares the lunars nether recesses in its glow casting shadows that arise among the craggs wedged beside some cliffs of common confirmed debris of the unnamed fallen heaps of mucked mired forgottned decay of worthless grime not meriting the struggles of a just reclaim promptly caused to fester including the residue of the reprehensibles whose lacking morals that from some particular decedent, intrusive spirit of Ne'ermere that steer souls to the steppes of the moors, where thou commands those hounds that wish to sever your sensitive skins and drain your spirit waters down that moat where your convictions will spark a lifetime of despair, honors the ambling of the blood moon of its wayward course of trailed afflictions that you wished and begged for death's swift visit for the determined inklings inscribed on petals of the columbine and their guarded secrets, steeped in the devil's brew of stirred concoctions meant for the hags of Ne'ermere and the warlocks of destruction and mayhem who pounces playfully on their prey of the misguided who are filled with disillusioned words that are as hollow as you, e'er stretching the imaginative liquified existence exposing a mirage of iniquities galvanizing its hold of treasured happenstance of certainties lost, fulfills a page of the intrepid who is but a shimmer presenting hope a hand of salvation gathered up in a smotherance and they'll all flicker away, anointing souls spared the vacuum of insignificance for doomsday is here bridging the channeled souls in their mortal state of decay of their tenous grasp of withered mass of fiberous veins where remnants of vigourous life succumbs to their true demise of the incredibly hideous and the indescribable now in the passage way between dying and death of their heinous acts of torturous screams bellowing throughout the chamberous pits of the unwanted dead where the lame, mute, and deaf search the living dead for their body parts, of severed limbs, eyes that hang out of the eyesockets, the unjointed tendons that flay about ever so freely, stenched air that festers while not only choking of whatever remians, seemingly an act of deceny, bestowing on the residue of assemblage from the former occupant, might be afforded an instantaneous journey into the sunrise of the...everlacking.
2019 September 18
Dembow-------------&-----------------Trap
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Citing meddling and undermining
keeping him in suspense might he
be exploited
acting silly and foolishly
she wants to piss him off for
all the world to see
a provocateur and a instigator
a troublemaker thats what I heard
it's a learned behavior
thats what I heard
The situation she all up in it
causing rift's in other folks relationships
it aint cute and sure not pretty
when it's all over she say
thats what he gets.
You aint happy and don't no one else
to be happy
saying someone likes getting hurt
always knowing what someone's worthy of
it aint crazy and shouldn't faze me
ya'll always talking bad bout someone
you involved in his underming
and you think he just gone take your sh$t
if he pounces on you
some your freinds be smiling
and to your face they'll say that's
what you get.
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-------------- "a little yeast leavens the whole batch"---------
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scheming, dreaming, keeping me satisfied.
Thats what Who roaring is all about!
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engagment:Groom,Bride;divoice:Fiancce'
engagment:groom;Bride:divoice:fiance
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A feral feline stalks the night
displaying wild and wicked ways
while searching prey for her delight,
and chasing all the lonely strays,
and all the toms out to betray.
She hunts them down when night is dark;
her instincts tell her who is weak.
She culls them out and picks her mark,
and charms him with her wild mystique
then pounces on her prey so meek.
And woe to those who try to tame
this feral feline on the hunt,
and rid her of this moral shame
‘cause wild she is, and I’ll be blunt,
it’s what she does so don’t confront.
She’s always been this sort of girl
enjoying her wild life despite
her having beauty of a pearl;
so taming her would not be right,
this feral feline of the night.
August 6, 2018
There should be no need to explain to a man
how guns are essential for self-defense,
most of us grew up on action films
that got across these clear sentiments.
Nor do we have to make it clear to a man,
the importance of safe-guarding family,
that has been driven deep into us
by evolution and society.
But there is one thing that we as men
bear up in a disproportionate way,
when darkness descends, it falls on us
to keep the whole of civilization safe.
We forget about this, try to ignore it,
our success has sadly made us sort,
we pretend that the darkness will yield
to the power of the police and laws.
But those very police, good as they are,
only can work in a civilized setting,
and the wolf stalks close, looking for his prey,
for a weakness he stands, every-ready.
Just because we don’t see the ravenous beast,
doesn’t mean that he’s not waiting there,
and when he pounces, when he sees his chance,
the cost quickly becomes too much to bear.
Be it done by some hated, foreign foe,
or more likely, by your very own state,
to defend your freedoms will take much more
than some passionate pleas and complaints.
The power-hungry will never be swayed
by reasoning or sincere rhetoric,
for them the power is above all else,
they’re evil addicts, twisted and sick.
And when they’ve pushed the bounds too far,
when checks and balances are undone,
it’s your duty as a man to heed the call,
even if it means taking up the gun...
CONCLUDES IN PART II