Long Stare down Poems
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a firm handshake and hearty toothy smile
baring his teeth for each teenager’s tryst
midnight glares painstakingly into boy’s eyes
the door closes softly for a father’s namesake
upon return at a kissable stage that same door
lassoes daughter inside and bolts shut the exit
dreamy eyes of youth stare down at shuffling feet
a serenade of hopefulness wants to win her hand
father holds a rifle or any resemblance to said weapon
even if crossed arms and teeny tiny eyes like rays
the boyfriend will have to prove his worth by balance
fakery will not do! Only knight’s gold will tip the scale
6/17/2018
Happy Father’s Day
The lawyer hopes,
you get arrested.
The disease hopes,
you become Infected.
The doctor hopes,
you become ill.
He supplies you with the
pharmacy pill.
The police hope you're
a criminal.
The diet hopes you,
don’t do nutritional.
The landlord hopes,
you never buy a house.
The pervert hopes,
to stare down Your blouse.
The whore hopes
you never marry.
The D.A. hopes,
you sing like a canary.
The dentist hopes,
your teeth decay.
Your parents hope,
that you obey.
The mechanic hopes,
your car breaks down.
The overweight person hopes
to shed a pound.
The undertaker hopes,
you're almost dead.
Covid-19 hopes
to infect and spread.
The plumber hopes,
your sinks clog.
You hope your prince,
is not a frog.
The teacher hopes,
you can't learn.
This is the way,
the wheel turns.
Turbo1904?
Don’t give up a violet voice whispers
As I stare down my cherry challenges
I silver shake shiver at how easy
It would to be breezy and float away
I have a golden goal you know
But now I feel I want to cranberry choke
What made me think I could dream
What made me think I could esteem
Don’t give up you cowardice woman
You said you’d do it keep drumming
Find your chocolate courage
Lick it up like decadent desert
If you quit more than ego will hurt
I must find my big girl panties
And put them on to wear
Pull with all my might
No matter who salty states
I can see the emerald green
In my eyes desiring victory
God send me more courage
For only with you can I achieve
I sit here by my window
And watch the birds out on the sill.
They are pecking at the seed
In the feeder I just filled.
I sit here at my laptop
Trying hard to write a bit.
Words aren’t coming easy
As I slowly loose my wit.
I fix a pot of coffee
Then I drink a cup or two.
I sit and watch the birds some more
As I finish off my brew.
I stare down at my laptop
As I go searching through my mind.
For some words of wisdom
And for some words that rhyme.
A flock of Zebra Finches
Have gathered for a feast.
They got my full attention
And don’t mind me in the least.
As they have their celebration
And party for a while
Their playful fun and antics
Bring on a hidden smile
A stream of words begin to flow.
As lines begin to form
And as the birds all say goodbye
I have finally got my poem
Freeze and behold the glorious Tiger!
Don't dare stare down the Tiger.
Watch out! His predatory soul is burning
Look, his eyes are bright.
Silent. Still. He'll draw you in.
His glowing glare and sudden growl puts the
Strongest prey on edge. Chasing them into forests
Where his secret dens of
Family are. He rests in the
Busiest times of the day. But during the night;
Do you know what
His habits are? His immortal
Instincts set in. When conservationists set their hand
To cameras they capture the Tiger in action or
Sleeping. But always something to catch one's eye.
How on earth else could
We safely observe? How much to learn by frame.
Oh yes, dear nameless Tiger, thy
May be beautiful, mighty, fearful
And what could compare to your symmetry?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tiger Tiger, burning bright,
in the forests of the
night; what immortal hand or eye,
could frame thy fearful symmetry?"
~~ William Blake~~
From any and all who can see
as I see,
From most definitely me; my
furthest, darkest recesses
buried deep.
To they who worship at the
high places of the Valley;
To the bright cultists from the
third tribe, second family of 'P'.
I write this to you from all we
who are forsaken sons.
You probably don't recall us, for
as you see you shun.
Stare down long noses that,
unbeknownst to you, run.
Snottishness and snobbery to
which you are blind, as Saul to
the sun.
I grieve you, our loss, as you
are engrossed in your web.
I weep over you because your
child, Intellect, to you is dead.
Come down from your high
places; be united once again.
Leave your 'god' and surely by
your child you will be forgiven.
Cut down the poles, break the
altars of Fourteen.
Leave the idols and temples;
escape the obscene.
Flee, fly, from its clutches steal
away.
Perceive cold truth, see how
the worship made you stray.
Raise your head, unstrain your
eyes; come now, reconnect.
As the chains fall off remember
the world and reflect.
Realize who you are, and could
be, and then conform.
Not to me, or any ideology, but
to the better you transform.
Dear Reader, if my scribble you
comprehend, please one thing
understand.
To all who use the tools of the
Valley, this is not a reprimand.
I only beseech they who
worship to retake command.
To rise up in their life and no
longer take their 'god's'
demand.
The gifts of Fourteen truly they
are great.
But do not offer yourself over
to Fourteen, prostrate.
Leave the high places of the
Valley, I adamantly pray.
Find yourself out of the web
and finally in sun's rays.
From any and all who can see
as I see.
From my pen, directed by the
longing within me.
To those lost in the temples
and high places of the Valley.
The forsaken ones, and the
dear Child, miss you fiercely.
His organization taken apart,
he found himself hiding in a safe house,
paranoid that Jones would learn he was there,
so crazed he made sure all the lights were doused,
he did not even bring along his spouse,
keeping a half-dozen armed me with him,
then one evening the door was blasted in.
In the smoke and the haze he heard gunshots,
but could not get a good look at the fight,
from the painful cries of all his henchmen
he figured that things were not going right,
then his leg felt a bullet’s harsh bite,
as he moaned in pain, his last henchman fell,
Jones was the doom on his whole cartel…
But when he looked up, he felt quite confused,
it wasn’t Jones who loomed over him there,
but an older man, armed like a soldier,
early fifties with thin, graying hair,
and frigid eyes that could stare down a bear.
This wasn’t a foe Delgado had known,
perplexed, he blubbered,”I thought you were Jones!”
The man did not seem to know who that was,
based on the indifferent look on his face,
he aimed his AR straight at Delgado,
and in a gruff, angry voice he did say
“Did you think I would let you get away?
After the cops found my son’s body wrecked,
dumped in a gutter, and shot through the neck?”
Delgado’s mind raced, drawing a blank,
it took a bit, but he remembered,
the nameless henchman that he’d had to shoot
for being dumb enough to question his word!
The thought of it was utterly absurd!
But there was no doubt in this old man’s glare,
a father’s cold rage was all he saw there…
The cops found his body a day later,
they called the grieving Jones onto the scene,
he looked on and saw the throat had been cut
using the method they taught to marines,
he said as if waking from a long dream:
“You lived by the sword, there’s one way to go,
but none can be sure whose sword lands the blow.”
Black king seeks a pawn, the hour ... ink affects,
pleasures acquaint of camouflage tactics,
pleasures game on, decent for chess, black tux,
meet in a square, grassy looks seemed protects.
Hopes for one more nights ... hopes this be the night.
Former spokesrat; the lamb, sized a rat.
Latter spokesowl; Spotted, laid placemat.
Mirage sways the assured and fates the trite.
Sole cousin of Barn Owls, they're world-renown
as true owls. They're cool daredevil cliffers,
and foresters as their declining numbers
'Near Threatened' by ICUN, useless stare down
as other fauna group waits screaming crimes ...
paints and films of death grow; signs of our times.
ON THE ROCKS
Down below, a roaring like thunder
As crashing waves punch the shore
Making both the cliff and I tremble
With no holding back, as if it’s war
Just as my life feels like going under
I am standing here cold and alone
As if at one with the sea in its rage
Anger rises from the coldest depths
If only I could just turn that page
Erasing sins for which I can atone
The wind blows, drying my tears
As I sense this deep connection
I stare down at grey water below
But I then see my own reflection
Heart and brain as threshing gears
But then a thought occurs to me
What if the sea and I could be one
Could I really join this forever tide
But there is a life with a little sun
I turn to leave this twisted reverie
COLD FACTS
Sip from the flask of your greed
The poison you drink is what you need
down inside internally you bleed
See these words where they lead
I am familiar with wounds and pain
Opened and oozing again and again
The suture ripped open could not contain
The blood pours soured from my vein
You check on me see my page
Tired of your prison and your cage
Let’s trade horrors and our rage
And stare down the barrel of that gauge
Let’s me and you take a walk
You go first then I’ll talk
Share deadly sins outlined in chalk
Ready to share to everyone’s shock?
I’ve tried the whiskey and the wine
I’ve tried the Bible and His Devine
I’ve tried prayer and the fitness shrine
But still I come up short to the goal line
What really feels good to manage the stress
Is rubbing it out on girls who undress
I prefer not to smoke my lungs are a mess
Man oh my sins are in extreme excess
Good at the faking and playing the part
a high paid actor on the screen it’s art
Everyone portrays who they aren’t
Deception and deceiving to out smart
Does this brash and coarse verse offend?
Have you not all along been living this trend?
Are you seriously denying to pretend?
Your attention I’ve caught and will apprehend.
It’s a lot easier to just be honest
That grab on your heart is the strongest
Pulling you back into the saw dust
You egregious eyes thirst full of lust
But it’s ok to act real innocent
No need to confess or even repent
Like a dime waiting on one red cent
You’re two faced life is well spent
I’ve come to grips with the fall of man
Tried to survive and find a clan
Tried to adapt and follow a plan
But still I’m reminded of the Son of man
Weary and burdened and full of debt
I try to renew daily my mindset
And kill the evil with my bayonet
I’m ready here we go get set.
You paid the price for all of us
In that alone I solemnly trust
Even though I fight against with disgust
Deep down I know you’ll help you must
Help me and deliver me is my cry
Wipe away the tears in my eyes
Use me in some way with groans and sighs
Bring me back to Zion and Sinai
By: beardedjarhead