Long Predators Poems
Long Predators Poems. Below are the most popular long Predators by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Predators poems by poem length and keyword.
When a teen disobeys,
innocence becomes insolance,
but malice is caused by exernal influence;
banners with explicit sexual indulgence,
conversations with obscene words
and gestures that can offend passerbys.
There are signs that can detect
any danger, watch the sexy way they dress:
tight clothing and that glamorous look
so irrisistable and provoking; and it
may not go unnoticed, and some teasers
even approve of it...adding to their lustful taste.
Even before modern times left their indecent mark,
these teens had a plan to run from home,
hop on train or bus and head for the big cities;
and on those thriving sidewalks, the predators
wait and they know how despair can turn into need,
an urgent need to survive...to eat and sleep.
Beautiful children, why do you constantly disobey,
and refuse to listen to your parents and elders,
who were raised in kindness, respect and dignity?
Innocent children, before that delusional fantasy
steals away more irreplaceable dreams...ask yourselves:
shouldn't a dream, such as yours, be trashed?
Unpack your back-packs and stay in a wam environment,
before silly thoughts become your biggest fear
and you will follow them to their destructive end...
not ever feeling any absence of the parental heart,
where there is a happy home you don't consider
the greatest place to nurture love with loving cheer.
When a teen disobeys,
love loses its profound defination...
as its pure essence is taken away by the rampant indignation
of an embittered truant: cursing, mocking justice,
stealing to feed bad habits, and in doing so they allow grief
to overcome joy, and replace it with a tragic death.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
He paces steadily in the ash of evening
while a neck cranes to watch the darkness fall:
an armor on his back hardens amidst
the chatter of leaves at the far end
of a sea where danger waits.
Through a haze, a fearless turtle
stands guard against the rage of winds;
his beaded eyes cautiously
scanning predators as flowers bend
for comfort of night’s droning hum.
Displaying an ancient legacy, he traverses
the mossy dune with shell and flippers
kneading stealthily in cunning motion…
oh, bearer of water and earth
evolves like a mystical ninja turtle
carrying the load to find a jeweled star.
Cyndi MacMillan's Free Verse- Turtle Contest
by nette onclaud
I can move slow or fast
leaving all in my dust
I am good at blending in
you can walk past not seeing me
Sometimes I give you a scare
as I shoot out and off
I can climb trees
but prefer the ground
When having a drink
I sometime have a dip
solitary is mainly my life
I want it no other way
My call for my young
is a soft cough or two
which carries for miles
bringing them running
A final clue I give to you
I like the open plains
the hotter the better
as it slows my prey
I go after the smaller things
and can twist on a dime
leap a hill or small bush
I kill by smothering
Most of my food
I lose to larger predators
so I have to hide
and eat very fast
Which is a problem
as I am drained
by the chase
needing time to recover
I often end up
getting just a few scraps
but at least my young
have once more eaten
So please tell me do
what the heck am I?
written 03/11/2014
contest: What Am I sponsor Poet Destroyer I chose Thing
élan vital
David J walker
Everything is hungry
Every single thing alive
Shall survive at the expense of
Some poor enhungered something else
That has learned to thrive in it’s
Own peculiar environment
The élan vital has turned even the
Blades of grass into clever predators and hunters
Capturing sunlight and rain that will sustain it
For another day
The forest records its own language spreading
Branch to branch Tree to tree
As the sea sings its ancient songs between the
Salty soliloquy of tidal waves
Even the mountains standing majestically
Will be spread softly along the beach
As the Earth remakes itself
Patiently
Day
by day
by day
It’s a constant battle with my mind
Rehearsing things I have left behind
Reviewing scenarios like a thesis in school
Visualizing moments that were unbearably cruel.
The video seems to be on repeat
As I begin to slowly retreat.
While others dance in the refreshing rain
I feaster in old familiar pain.
As the predators smile in utter glee
I am left feeling vacant…. Completely empty.
I know that I can never get back time
It’s time that seems to be my crime
I Wasted it on fruitless endeavors
Filled with delusion, while thinking I was clever
I am not where I want to be
I know there is a light set before me
I am not what others once knew
But, at times, it is hard to continue to pursue
Damaged they call it, jaded they say
I am diamond, on fire, being purified each day.
Breaking the cycles
Destroying the lies
Does somebody hear my little girl cries?
You heal as you grow
And grow while you heal
Guarding the gates from those that like to steal.
People are funny, they never admit
Can this be all there is? Will I ever leave this pit?
I am locked in a cage of my own
How do I get out? I was never shown.
Missing what was... instead of embracing what will be
This trapped door has me in a place, but I am holding the key
Only love from another can break down these walls
I know he can see me as I crawl.
When you’re down on your knees
You can finally see
It’s a touch from God that can set you free!
By: Sabina Nicole
Evening mimics the streetchildren
thrusting out and down with fright.
Predators heave along the bend
solid as a rock, bodies streaming brawn and muscle,
how cruel! Their red eyes shoot like arrows.
The young sceams and parries.
Laughter makes it way on dirt roads
a battle is won, the rattling clatter
of boney skins, of feet's hooves
tearing up the hard soll.
Older women whio a cry
veiled in old lace, their breath
spoied with the acid of midnight.
I will not take this!
Tell the air of freedom to come,
for I do not want to see the terror
of a nect generation on filth.
I will not take this!
The hours come wide open.
Flag of clouds rush on
and the heart rings of dreams
where my hut embraces their pain.
--- I try to help make this world a better one
by giving my time to abused children
as a Church volunteer.
--- Contest on Words of Wisdom
Why is it?
the louder
and more ballistic
my self-righteousness
offensively becomes
The more
at night
I feel self-loathing,
when all is quiet
except dark ruminations
filling my silent bedroom
overwhelming my mind
and body.
Why is it?
we RightWing worry
that nonviolent communication,
too lovingly applied,
would leave us defenseless
against colonizing predators?
And do not worry enough
about LeftWing social anxiety
chronic worrying trauma tales
of violent communications,
too profoundly
ubiquitously applied,
leaving us offensively polarized
by inside fascist autocratic hate
hoarding angry power
and fear filled paralysis?
While unallied corporate fat cat
capitalists,
sell defense industry prophylactic lies,
mad ecocide
predicting global anthroprivileged
demise.
Our inhumane history of violence
leaves uncontested
a healthy silent mystery
of preference
for compassionate personal experience.
A bag of bones tucked in the trees,
Nestled against the fence,
Camouflaged by branches and leaves,
Heavy with the weight of death.
It tells a story of mystery,
No longer here in this world, but in the stillness of the bones—
Once a living, breathing form.
An animal of sorts,
Fallen prey,
Once roaming the orchard,
Living off the land,
Day in, day out,
Surviving at best, hiding at rest.
The land that nourished life
Now provides a resting place
For the weary bones that will turn to dust—
The bag, opened by predators,
Animal instinct in survival mode,
A gust of wind scattering the bone dust
Back into the food chain.
A once-living creature, now fertilizing the earth.
The cycle of life continues
Through all the seasons.
No longer a mystery; the bones, now dust, lie
Beneath the apple trees.
One frosty winter's eve
In the silence of the night
Under the glow of the moon
In glittery delight
There's sounds of shuffling tiny feet
In the blades of green that crinkle
And captured in a sea of black pearls
Are joyous reflections of celestial twinkle.
A special dance commences
In the Field Mouse Winter Ball.
Squeaky songs and scratchy steps...
An entertaining eve for all.
As per their tradition,
Before the occasion has ended,
They surround the patch of frozen puddles
With all whom they've befriended.
They pair up and take their turn
To grace themselves on ice.
Then they vote amongst themselves
The winning winter field mice.
An hour or two before first light
They bid fur well and goodbye.
Then scurry home to their safe place
Before hungry predators swirl the sky.
When they feel they cannot venture
Their sorrow they relieve
By reminiscing about the fun they had
On one frosty winter's eve.
TRAPPED
I run through life wounded with a steel jawed trap
ensnared onto my foot restricting my life’s essence.
Day in and day out I’m never able to shake it off,
in relentless movements as fast as I could go
so no new pain touches me.
I fight for sustenance; I fight to inhabit this life
damaged and wearied, from taking life’s persecutions
This invisible torment of my afflictions you can’t
Identify with.
I hold close that God is always watching and will pull me from
The of muddied roads that I run. He hears my tormented cries;
He feels my tortured spirit; He sees I can’t stop this path I’m on.
You say I’m not getting free but the running is
critical to me, as long as I can run, I’ll move,
don’t ask why, don’t question it, don’t try.
It’s not something you’ll ever comprehend.
Don’t question my animal instinct, let me be free
from what haunts me, from the nothingness.
You’re not saving me, you got nothing on me.
I’m God’s creature and vow to be who I am.
You say the war is over but the hurt remains
I keep a mask on through good times and bad
They don’t think my life counts but God sees the
merit of my existence.
Every day, it’s my struggle not yours, no one can imagine
the heartbreak, the suffering, the sorrow cutting my soul
as deeply as the rapt foot, it won’t come off it’s always
mine alone.
I’m still fighting, the battle rages on in my mind.
Stop your judgment, leave me be, if you have not
Been through this anguish run with me or without me.
I have accepted the aloneness in this fight.
This trap keeps me from fending off life’s predators.
I’m a solitary being with a broken spirit. My desperate
expression is evidence enough. Though my instincts are
powerful I’m not able to discern when I’m in danger.
I know GOD watches this unbearable burden I carry.
I pray when my time is up He gives me warning
So in the final moments I can stand still as I’m being
raised up out of this hell into Heaven.
My Angels in Heaven see me; I’m okay to die this way;
it’s not for you to say. I beg God to keep His guard on me.
I’m done defending this. I pray for you without any
prayers in return.