Long Savagely Poems
Long Savagely Poems. Below are the most popular long Savagely by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Savagely poems by poem length and keyword.
Winds of change blow in time’s course clear
waft from an unseen end to unknown another
the momentum they gather from the power
the history gives, it goes on increasing ever,
the direction they receive from the message
the current events provide can’t be altered,
the aim they read on social landscape page
people delicately design can’t be changed.
Civilizations blew away in the destined gale
the Indus valley turned into a great desert,
empires collapsed on time in the gusty squall
lie scattered in archaeological sites and in art,
all ordained to meet the change from the start.
The mankind sheds the unwanted old grime
like the dry leaves of autumn the winds sweep
and bury under thick dust of the ageing time.
Indomitable spirit rises from the dust deep
new generations of belief and value emanate
that survive as long as they can strongly defy
the forces of fated change the winds generate,
the strike of destined wrath time arrows apply
transforming fast and invisibly the core insipid
of the traditional society of integrity and unity
into a new deceptive one that seems steeped
permanently in intolerance and in hostility,
infusing sense of change that gradually sips in,
traditional concepts of living slowly recede
families and relationships disintegrate within
to morph into the present-day fragile breed
desperately designed to meet rather blindly
the demands current times make irrationally.
The shape and the space of mind’s frame alters
with changing pictures it holds but doesn’t know
the time and the people that are constant movers
displayed in the kaleidoscopic everlasting show
the winds of change visibly perform as they blow.
If winds of change blow too strong and abrasive
everything on way crumbles beyond recognition,
so savagely they gust nothing survives to retrieve
the wreckage can’t be swept aside, it stays on
for everything drags everything into the ruins.
August 31, 2017.
A BUSH FIRE
One scorching afternoon,
A sudden splintering sound was heard,
The nearest was the buffalo herd,
They smelt the smoke and felt the heat,
And began to charge, they had to beat,
The, scorching red hot fire.
The monkeys who swing and never tire,
Screeched loudly in tongues,
Whilst smoke, stole oxygen out of their lungs.
A mighty midget the porcupine,
Warned chancers that his quills so fine,
Would incur great pain
Not only a red blood stain,
For he dreaded to be turned belly up,
And had no intention, of being anyone’s sup!
The birds began to fly very high,
Away from the smoke, in the sky.
The unfortunate tortoise lost his way,
And sadly, with his life, had to pay.
The giraffe with tall spindly legs
Ran wildly destroying nests and eggs,
His wildness came from his wrath,
And, the chaos along his path.
The animals ran faster away from the fire,
Whilst the flames leapt higher and higher.
A mamba slithered forward next,
Whilst a frightened cub looked on perplexed,
A Zebra, tripped and broke his back,
Causing more confusion in this race track.
The springbok and hyena together ran,
They were now close to the water pan,
The pan was next to a river,
Would they make it,
Each animal began to quiver,
Could the springbok be tomorrow’s lunch,
A tree falls with a thud and crunch,
Distracting the hyena from his would be munch!
The fox cunningly glances from side to side,
Nimbly a burning log jumps wide.
The lions mouth their cubs gently but tight,
As they run from this horrendous plight.
But water is in sight!
Everyone is close to the finish line,
This race has become competitively fine,
The crocodiles are savagely waiting to dine!
They have spotted their first meal,
The frightened perplexed cub hurriedly steal.
Only a quarter,
Can get into the water.
A stampede starts, animals clamber over each other,
The young ones protected by their mother.
Unfortunately only the strongest will survive,
To tell future generations of their strive,
Of what it’s like, living a bush veld life.
It is now too late for you to
Straighten up and
Fly right!
You have failed to pass
The test of time.
It is too late to love your neighbor
There is nothing left to do now
But go back into the nothingness
From whence you come.
Day and night will no longer
Be separated by the sun
And the moon.
The sun will no longer co-operate
With your demand for light.
The children are suffering
My elders are unhappy-
And do not - want to live
Upon this planet again.
All the worms have turned;
Every punched has been pulled;
You have failed to pass
The test of time.
No more shall you remember
the promise of eternity.
The moon is blood red
The rivers are bleeding,
Mother Earth’s blood.
She has been savagely raped
And abused.
I will not restore knowledge that has been
Lost or misused.
You had the law and
you did not use it.
To those of you who have been
so unkind an untoward my creations.
You have failed to pass...
The test of time throughout the ages.
Fire rages
I am speaking from
my God-mind.
I am fed up
Finally.
When the grid
Breaks; And the earthquakes,
"Too late to remedy the plunder."
The senseless murders and destruction.
No way to balance the metabolism
No way to love your brothers
Of different colors.
Back to the void--Back to the nothingness,
that you were before
I imagined you.
I am now rescinding my breath
Revoking the stewardship.
I will in one million years recreate
a new species.
They will decipher your written words;
And they will create laws that ban the ways
Of you new primitive men.
My new species will not
invent ways to ignore me,
I will pattern them after the Amish;
They will be good stewards of
"Mother Earth".
and...Will become at one with the
With the universe and Its Laws.
But as for you, your time is done;
Back you go into the dark hole.
And you will become undone.
No-one on my new planet
Will discover you.
You have failed to pass
The test of time;
There’s no way now to keep time.
Now there are no righteous left, to
Make things
Right.
Blessed are the ones that have
Already transcended
Before times words were rescinded.
And I who created you:
Decided to end it.
Message to the masses
Concerning the madness...
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2018
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http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=382281
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The Lure Of The Beast is the Wolf Man's Werewolf Dream.
It was written by Samia Arroyo and it inspired the following theme;
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He stalks and pounces upon his prey. He savagely needs now to be fed,
and that's when the wolf man arose from his sleep in his make shift bed.
It had all been a dream about that werewolf thing,
or was he unconsciously experiencing a state of true wolf being?
The howls of the distant pack are what awakened him.
He recognizes the howl. The pack has made a killing
and like a true werewolf the wolf man claims his filling
by giving the carcass a very thorough butchering.
He claims all the prime meat he'll preserve, cook and prepare,
but every other pack member will also all get a full equal share.
No longer did the wolf pack risk losing their kill to a grizzly bear.
not as long as their Wolf Man was there.
He could butcher a complete carcass and be out of there
long before there would be any sign of any bear,
leaving behind the wolves to run off and comfortably eat their share.
The Wolf Man and his pack had a relationship beyond compare.
There wasn't anymore fighting or dominating among the wolf pack.
The Wolf Man was alpha, all the wolves agreed with that.
He made every one of their kills count, the pack's bellies were always fat,
but every now and then, the werewolf dream comes back.
The werewolf dream still haunts him occasionally.
I believe It's just his inner wolf attempting to break free.
The more time he spends with this pack, the more a wolf he will be.
At times he must be a werewolf with a savage cold heart
especially when hunger pangs continue to grow closer apart.
but the Wolf Man's life is anything but all dark.
The wolves make his life here in the wild a lot much less harsh.
They do the hunting and the killing
he does the butchering and the dispensing.
It works well for the wolves and it works well for him.
The Wolf Man and his wolves are co surviving.
Rain washed morning air
clean scents, lavender and thyme,
refresh earth weary of too much living,
bruised by heaviness of many feet;
sunlight wakens to kiss first flowers.
I know not if what I gave
will be enough . . .
your soul savagely driven,
mysteriously pained.
You assume worlds on sagging shoulders,
worlds not requiring your support
yet, render you powerless to release.
Demons harass your mind,
tramping to and fro
fomenting fitful schemes,
murky thoughts,
grandiose imaginations.
I shall continue
like the rain giving sky,
the warm caressing sun,
to kiss your sweet flower face,
to love you
until Love takes me away . . .
praying what I gave . . .
will be enough.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, June 18, 2014
How long does a drop last?
An eternity or dry up fast?
Wiped away by a towel
Or drank away with a swallow
Just a little drop of wet
Not in the ocean yet
But when they meet
They splash and crash
As they greet
Deep down in the sea
In and out of gills
So many wonders to see
Swooshing about with thrills
Washed up ashore
When heat begins to attack
Evaporate and grow more
Riding on a clouds back
How long will that cloud last?
Growing big and vast
Until temperature cools
And gravity rules
So down came that water drop
Into a river with a flop
Flowing fast and splashing
Into a pool savagely thrashing
Down a pipe, in fact
Coming out of a tap
Have you ever just sat
Thinking time has passed
How long does that drop last
North and south snowy mass
Frozen in time forever trapped
Part of a larger ice cap
I painted your heart today
anatomically correct and expectation abstract,
on canvas skin of stretched soul, taut extreme,
mixed media of memory, mania,
love fire and ire,
mixed disciplines of desire, devotion,
death and divinity,
Primed with a thick coating
of blood cream passion,
I used my thumb nails to outline
It's pump of pride,
I began with a pallette of poetry,
Midnight Blue, Angel White,
and Crimson Ink Sweat,
shaping muscle walls with palms
sliding through wet ache
brining together youth and wisdom
in hot pink,
I lay your veins enroute to the truth
of our pulse,
they glow violet in vast want
of virtue uncriticized,
purple oxygen and new born orange
unite into fresh flame
dancing on a breath of forever,
I bite a star into existence
and it shimmers into a simmer
of heated spit,
I have brushed your heart
into love incognito,
fine hazel sable tip tickling contours
that expand consciousness
into renewed innocence,
I can hear your laughter on the edge
of my pallette knife,
sighs that speak of heartbeat ecstacy,
and moans that mention the end of Time,
I trace our names
with my barbarous tongue
into the blood flow of our destiny,
heart dripping dreams,
spilling secrets into Future's wilderness,
using my sorrow sharpened teeth
and hands of tender iron,
I rip this heart work in half savagely,
and it bleeds unto the feet
of my need for You,
I frame the parts
within gilded tears of tragedy,
to reimind me of how love suffers,
a torn canvas makes two paintings,
that a heart in love cannot be two -
J.A.B.
An awful aardvark ate anchovies against all advice.
Besides belching beyond belief, he bit bitter banana boats.
Charlie Chimp cackled curiously, convinced
Delicious delectable desserts did damage.
Enormous energy engaged enthusiastic excitement
Frenzied friendly felines, forever forgiving
Greasy giraffes giving grievous gripes
Horsey happiness hiding hurt amongst hilarity.
Ignoring idiocy involved ignorantly,
Jumping jack-a-lopes jiggled
Kangaroo kindness keeping
Leisurely lions laughing
Merriment mesmerized monkey marines
Never notorious, nevertheless, nefarious
Octopus ostracized owls, ostentatiously,
Preventing Porcupines putting prickles precariously in patrons.
Quietly and quickly
Resuscitating rescued rabbits
Savagely sustaining simple seriousness
Totally terrorized
Underneath unique
Verbose velocity
Which worried
‘xtra ‘xtraneous
Zipping, zaggy, zebras.
A cloth tag on my bed disturbs me
So much so that it woke me up from sleep
I prayed that it would go away
In reality it will be there till doomsday
But that's not all
I know the ways of labels
They get their way
Manufacturers protect them
So does the law
It reads as plain as day
“Do Not Remove This Tag Under Penalty of Prosecution
or Persecution”
Some such nonsense…something like that….
It's too much for a simple man like me
I fear authority and prison
But I can't continue with this obnoxious thing
First, I placed a pillow over it
Tags don't need oxygen to breath
Labels are persistent, persevering
Even resolute in their condition to prevail
I could shoot it with a gun
No. That's no good
Smoke and noise don't scare it
Bullets hardly tear it
A relentless dangling appendage to the end remains
Clinging to the ends of beds
Duct tape was next
But I knew that words continued underneath
Also hidden by sheets
The butcher knife would have to do
Savagely removed…blood curdling rips and cuts
I blew a fuse..... My bed is new
No one could refute that now
Now my life is through
I am tagged as a bed label fugitive
Furniture police men hunt me down
I could be executed… or incarcerated
Made to make amends, repairs… or even face the chair
Let the lions roar,
For the deaf can’t hear and the rest choose not to listen,
There’s no sense anymore,
When a child’s tears are all that glistens,
Abandoned and forsaken,
Too much pain and too much wrong,
Hope savagely taken,
How much longer can this go on,
Have you done anything to help this plight,
Have you done anything but avert your sight,
The smallest kindness means more than you realise,
Open your heart to the sound of their cries,
It doesn’t take much to help make a difference,
All that it takes is and end to this ignorance,
How much are fags or a bottle of coke,
A pound from each person sounds like a joke,
But still it would make a missive impact,
Still it would start to improve the fact,
That too many kids are homeless today,
Because too many of us turn the other way.