Long Prowls Poems
Long Prowls Poems. Below are the most popular long Prowls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prowls poems by poem length and keyword.
My old gran had an ice cream van
And a bright green cape and a madcap plan
She’s out to save her fellow man
And with her walking frame, she can
Each night she prowls the felon’s range
Disturbing owls and foxes
She takes the van so she can change
For there are no phone boxes
She parks up at the end of night
And hobbles home by day’s first light
Today she caught a mugger’s sight
Who mocked my Gran’s heroic fight
‘Fighting crime is not a game
You’re just some soppy, daft old, dame
You’re leaning on that walking frame
To get some place or other.
‘Without your cape you’ve no disguise
Without your mask over your eyes
It might be wise to realise
You’re just some kid’s grandmother.’
Grandma raised her walking frame
Toward from where the voice had came
She asked the thug, ‘Have you no shame?’
And with her walking frame, took aim
One leg sprayed out chocolate sauce
Another leg sprayed sprinkles
Then Grandma pressed a button
And her van played tuneful tinkles
She gave the thug a wily grin
‘You’ll get the slammer some day
But today I’ve turned you in…
to an ice cream sundae.’
The crumbling of humanity is developing.
Burglary, deception, and hubris are ubiquitous.
Money is being earned by cheating.
These areas are known to be perilous.
The vast majority of the cash is made in the wild.
It's time to settle in the matured and infirm.
Ravenous experts age their vigor after a while.
Laborers are escaping devout neediness squirm.
Frantic individuals have weakened.
Fellowship has no kin, just sex bind unify.
Keeping guardians is an idea antiquated.
Notwithstanding savagery, humankind decay.
The mutilation and murder of living persons,
Assaulting, beating captives till they die or be deaf.
They induce their casualties lives blackens.
The cruelest rulers of the hells they bereft.
Psyche attacking compassion and adoring.
Time talks just nibble and severity.
Wild evil presences masked as a sacred being.
Blamelessness in the midst of a corrupt divinity.
Virtue blurs to a deadly chase in the wind.
No one realizes who prowls crimson vine.
Is this acculturated? a pooled grind.
Alert, my friends, inquire into thine.
Written: September 9, 2021
This or That, Vol 7 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Be looking to God for your strength
the divine kind is always the best
so stand strong in your God alone
He's able to take you through any test
Beware of a devil who prowls like a lion
seeking to find those He can devour
fit yourself with God's armour fully complete
so be able to stand for this ungodly hour
We are in a wrestling match like no other
for superior then flesh or blood is out foe
greater than principalities or worldly power
evilness greater than we could ever know
The rulers of the darkness of this world
who do everything to bring us down
this spiritual wickedness from on high
does make us fear cries from Satan's hound
Thankfully there is hope and favour
God's provided His armour fully complete
so we can stand true in this evil day
standing firm in Christ fully on our feet
("Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.
Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.")
Ephesians 6: 10-13
In the darkness, all birds and bees
and all angels here lie asleep.
The twinkling stars look down
bemoaning my plight, they frown
Over the Panther that crawls above
As black as night, upon the wall she prowls.
Just above my grip, on the sewage pipe,
The viper, the villains twisting my plight.
Into the list adds the third,
My anxieties, awake and absurd,
Growl from behind, the only exit
to exist, yet cut off by a mind toxic.
All three in stance, ready to pounce,
A hard grip, hives shake and bounce.
As it oozes down, my hand I withdraw,
Untimely pleasure, eating honey raw.
Notes:
1. For the contest Dead End Poetry
2. I was thinking of a way to approach this poem, and a local folklore/idiom came to my mind. It goes “Marana thunak ethi minisek peni keya”, meaning a man with three deaths ate honey.
So the story goes like, a man who was chased by a wild beast tumbled and fell into a massive pit. Before he fell in entirely he grabbed hold of a branch/ root that was growing on the side. Since the animal was still waiting on top to attack him, he couldn’t really crawl out. He was hanging off of the side of an empty well, in which there was a cobra, who was ready to sting him. The root / vine that he was holding also had another extremely venomous serpent (I think the most venomous in Sri Lanka), resting on it. When he had pulled on the vine a beehive that was on it was crushed, and some of the honey trickled off onto the man’s hand. And with death facing him in three different directions, he ate the honey and thought how good it tasted.
I twisted this story to fit the theme of the contest, and I didn’t remember the entire story when I wrote this, so there isn’t much left of the original story. But I hope you enjoyed it.
Note2: the story differs according to several sources. I’m not that competent in deciphering the old Sinhala texts that could give me the original meaning, so bear with me as I refer to a simplified version which I’m not 100% sure is credible.
Skeleton quay - abridged for Give Me Goosebumps contest
When the sniper fired his rifle and his faithful canine fell
A second bullet found his heart and he went down as well
Might we stay together, somehow he deigned to try
His last exhale the whispered vow, Lord, we must not die
Army medics took him, in vain, his life to save
His hero German Shepherd in a stoney desert grave
And then his own cremation, yet he remained aware
Ethereal intervention withdrew his corpse from there
Something in his mind just knew his dog was somewhere yearning
Shame the intervention came when he was near done burning
Two thousand miles of skimming clouds or bounding over sea
This canine’s epic trek has brought him to his hometown quay
He only gets to hear him when a crescent moon shines bright
Perhaps they do as ghost ships do just pass by in the night
Each one knows the other’s close, they’ll reunite in time
He’s of a mind to bide his time fighting low-life crime
He prowls the night in shadows twixt the bat the rat and cat
Keeps his hairless cranium hid beneath his tan rimmed hat
And lest he scares the homeless like he's been born out of hell
Behind dark shades his vacant sockets hide away as well
Whilst he has no need for food - he hasn't any guts
He passes time by nibbling packs of jelly beans or nuts
They bounce around his ribcage then trail along the ground
To feed Cedric his rat sidekick who follows him around
It takes a while but then a smile at four wet footprint marks
No phantom howl, a joyous wail and then some playful barks
Man and dog now reunited, distant bond now reignited
Cedric tried it, couldn’t fight it, three good friends now all delighted
And so they prowl the shadows where no lawful man shall dare
Only those of I'll intent shall stand or loiter there
But nothing here shall cause them fear nor get under their skin
A knife glints in the moonlight and they cannot help... but grin.
18 December 2018
For: Give Me Goosebumps
Sponsor : Nina Parmenter
An Angel falls
and no one hears,
the devil watches
and licks in sneer
Mute in this form
she called to god,
now bound to earth
a mortal outlawed
Drifting on sands
she waits,
for what life holds
or fates
A unicorns breath
shimmered her hair,
the cream of milk
in her skin so fair
The dark of night
touches her eyes,
the fathoms run deep
to other times
Drifting in robes
of saffron clouds,
her feet do whisper
in her night prowls
Listen real close
and you may hear,
the footsteps of angels
passing you near
As the sands of life
this angel waits,
for heaven to save
or death to grace
As the world tires and weariness begins to quietly enfold,
We will sleep and dream of what tomorrow beholds,
In the night,
a chorus of felines project a resolute purr,
Meow!
And in the light of the moon, as they preen shabby fur,
Transformation and magic will flow deep into the night,
Nocturnal eyes, hypnotic as they witness the sight,
Of the piercing deep precious bright emerald eyes,
that incarcerates the stars above night skies.
Semi-precious stones adorn a shapely neck,
An unfamiliar collar – did anyone check?
An opulent fur coat, a shadow of smooth shiny silk,
Shrouded gold whiskers bathed in honey and milk
Litheness adorned around a nimble form,
Prowls with ghostlike movement until morn,
Fluid, sinuous,
Moves silently continuous,
Crouches beneath a well-trimmed hedge,
Obscurity the unwritten pledge.
Observing the sacred temple, a place of conviction,
A place of love and security, should be free of infliction,
Possessions and sentiments within an encased vault,
A place of love and security, surely, one cannot fault.
Springing from haunches into full position,
Ears dart along the scented trail towards admission,
As the weary keepers sleep in deepest slumber,
The magic of sleep will not encumber.
The art of ancient magic will unlock the chambers,
No sound will be heard by close-knit neighbours,
The walls question the dense silence of their ears,
Darkness remains frozen until daylight appears.
The Bensons awake with sleep cladded eyes,
The disappearance of artefacts, come with shock and surprise,
Someone has violated their tranquil domain,
Magic Merlin – Cat Burglar has conquered again!
Meow!
She prowls regally like feline queen of nine lives,
the fat lady Lucy calls her Merlin, the magic cat,
as white as the first snow or the lovely lily.
Wherever she goes on her daily errand,
her company Merlin always keeps,
and every night beside her the cat sleeps.
Merlin climbs and sits on her broad shoulder,
or lounges leisurely on her plump thigh,
and caressing her, Lucy feels the magical charm.
As the lady sits on the sofa, knits a sweater,
the cat plays with the woolen balls,
enmeshed in strands, becomes a weird creature.
As Lucy strokes fondly her silky fur,
Merlin wakes up with purring melodic meow,
and walks up to the food bowl as if in a trance.
At night when all sounds subside,
Lucy sits sleepless alone in the dark,
senses the rhythm of the bewitched cat walk.
She doesn’t like people call Merlin a pet,
for she is her only child, the magical one,
she doesn’t care being called the crazy cat lady.
___________________
October 3, 2022
Contest : Merlin The Magic Cat
Sponsored by : Mystic Rose Rose
Violins plucking strings
of horsehair, satin ribbons
violet violate a dark
foresaken world
like a beautiful dream
romance unravels
the sweet pain
comes undone
then those wild horses
dance macabre neck-to-neck
racing all the way home
for want of a better country,
these beautiful creatures
limbs racing all lathered
opening wide
and unconquered
plunder new territory
in the red seeded seat
royally the hidden thing
beats like a machine
underneath the skin
a ripe juicy red apple
no cherry pip
feeds the mind of
marquis de john donne
and dorian's sybil vane
gone all wrong
Violins the shape
of a woman
the music inside
her intense jungle
prowls around
like an exotic
soft pawed purring
black leopard
something wicked
or wonderful
in the garden
this way it comes
the soft satin
that binds metaphoric
minds like wrists
the will to resist
comes undone
something wicked
or wonderful
in the garden
dappled in shadow
shining and hidden
like a solitairy secret
like a morning star
this way, it comes
Candide Diderot. ‘24
The lion prowls for a fresh meal
Ready to kill and watch you squeal
Teeth and claws shred your heart
Bones and muscle torn all apart
He seeks one of us to devour
Not resting one bit of the hour
Ready to pounce on the attack
Be on alert and watch your back
He leads you in the temptation
Your heart's desire and sensation
Your pleasures and dreams all fulfilled
Long as you forsake our Gods will
We ought to act more vigilant
His threat is dire and imminent
We are hunted like fattened prey
He feasts on souls like a buffet
Tricks us thinking that we are saved
His lie to us, “You’re well behaved!”
We buy the message of cheap grace
Which leaves us dead in our carcass
But one born to us as a babe
Grew up strong a command he gave
Love God with all heart mind and strength
And love your neighbor at great length
And if we say we have have no sin
The lie is what we are living
And the truth in us won't be found
Learn this before we’re in the ground
This poet writes a line and verse
Before we ride that ethereal hearse
We will be dressed in our death shroud
Will we be “counted and allowed?”