An armadillo leaned on a fence,
too wilted to muster a proper defense.
His cowboy hat slouched
like a biscuit overbrowned,
his dignity having long since left town.
The relentless sun blazed down with cheer,
roasting the pasture for the fifteenth month this year.
Grasshoppers staggered.
Mesquite trees panted.
Even the buzzards looked disenchanted.
The dillo squinted west and sighed,
I reckon I'm medium-well inside.
One more degree
and y'all will see
roadside jerky where I used to be."
A bead of sweat rolled down his snout.
He watched it fall. He watched it sizzle.
"Autumn," he grumbled,
"has missed her exit.
She's probably lost near Abilene."
The fence post offered little aid.
The shade was merely shade-adjacent.
He tipped one claw
to his hat and said,
"If anybody spots October,
tell it I'm awaitin'."
A slow wheel upon
Old byway, country's.
Untried, yet tranquil-making.
Lone-lost, yet what frees.
As far who panted
In that world of fear
One echoing reminder
As can no more hear.
The fingers crawled over
my lips, each step a crunch
on my parched soul -
lullaby for my desires
But where’s the wind ?
Where was it, before the drizzle?
The crawl slithered into sleek
curling my lips into his mouth
like a prey, I panted in his loop
struck by the venom of his kiss
I strangled reaching for the antidote
You unheard my Ahhh as -
mistaking it for consent.
My naked body cracked in the sun
frail limbs creeping towards the shade
He snatched me like a predator
engulfed my head and slowly
all of me .
My bones and tendons
all crushed in his muscular coil.
A chill and breath left in me
maybe just for tomorrow.
Leaping with joy into a tall pile of soft, fluffy snow,
He snorted and panted, and flashed a broad smile,
Surprised and delighted with the bone chilling cold,
That couldn’t penetrate his thick, curly coat.
He lay for a moment, catching his breath,
As if trying to decide what to do next.
Rolling onto his back, long legs flailing the air,
He twisted happily, enjoying the chilly freedom there.
Then backwards he fell, rolling in gravity defying angles.
Leaving the white ground covered with glistening snow angels.
Finally exhausted from his frolicking antics,
He came to me happily with his body in wiggles.
Lifting his snow encrusted paws into my warm hands,
His beautiful brown eyes asked,
“What is this wonderful stuff? What is its name?”
I said, “Darling, this is snow, the treat of the season.
Enjoy it now, as much as you can.
In just a few hours it will soon fade away,
Melting your snow angels and returning grass again.”
.
her's paced back
forth mine
in the tiered
sheen
swing dress
i
yes
i
yes I with the
lust
panted
she
yes she
she felt mine pant
with mine duke
her's press'd
it
with mine other
all uv it's
frenetic digits
hern
felt mine
breathe
As I am feeling so slanted,
He continued what made him panted.
There’s a BIG RED GARDEN
In mine city spaced
By seeds I’ve planted
Watered by God’s grace
Summit sprouting
Prayer for nourishing the body
By seeds I’ve panted
For the glory of God
Father’s feeding me, daily
Mind, Body, and Soul;
Thank you Abba Father for feeding me so
Amen Hallelujah
6/30/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
he panted heavily
muscles twitching in his naked body
running frenzied, without looking back,
he shouted, “He is after me.... my life”
a rip roaring cry....!
the traffic halted
pedestrians stopped
people from shops came out
women through curtained windows peeped
children stopped their play
“so drunk”.... a man murmured
“A crack”.... someone shouted
“coming right after an orgy”
sneered, an oldie...
“pity on him...! Take him to an asylum”
one gentleman suggested.
he needs help, majority opined
‘nab this plague’, the moral police quipped
what is he running from...?
an assailant....?
corona virus....?
his own phantom...?
two sane men staying,
at a corner wondered.
they had masks on their face
“must be a health worker”..!
one of them said...
“yes, the subtle nuances of a cracked mind”
the other agreed!
as the scene on the road,
had grown into a high voltage drama,
dissensions grew and multiplied!
March.10. 2023
~Placed Second~
Cracked Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Anthony Biaanco
Outside the four cafes, four dogs awaited their caffeine crazed owners. Sniffing different street signs, taking inventory of who’d already been there. Four dog “owners” exited the cafés. A tall blonde, possibly bleached, retrieved the dog and haughtily gazed at the “other” cafes and dogs. A slightly rumpled donut muncher hurriedly hustled away with a slightly rumpled mutt. A lithe and limber, skin tight yoga panted Latte carrier, glided away. The dog, nose high, sniffed nothing. A rather large flannel shirt exited café number four, the dog nuzzled its owner. It’s reward, a hearty greeting and vigorous petting.
Shortly thereafter they all met at the dog park, the dogs that is. The owners took their places. One sat silently engrossed in a book. One talked loudly into a cell phone. One primped and posed while taking “selfies”. One watched and laughed at the antics of the dogs.
As they left the dog park the cups told a story. One was left on a bench, one tossed on the ground, one rinsed and filled with water so the dog might have a drink, and one placed in the recycle barrel.
John G. Lawless
©3/3/2023
In the beginning there was man woman and bird and then there was see
when the spirit of God moved inside them, they were all flown in for free
At the very start God gave His will full hand but then he released free will
some recognized their part in it and chose good will others chose to kill...
We are in a secondary world full of pain and confusion buzzing like busy bees
and most of us have blinders on , we cannot see the forest for the trees;
Time evolves the Angels watch us carefully, wondering when will we learn?
some of us have make the effort to awaken, some of us still crash and burn.
In the beginning the earth was quiet and the deer panted near the brook
some of us dig deep in our souls, but then there are others who never look.
I puffed and panted up the steps (and thought
about the novel Dracula, in which
the character called Mina ran up there)
and gasping, wheezing crawled towards the top
to look out over Whitby from the cliff.
The view was simply beautiful, I found -
enough to take one's breath away (but I
was breathless as it was, and so I tried
to catch my breath!) I didn't want to think
about the trek that faced me as I left
to walk back down those steps...
Remembering a visit to Whitby & climbing the famous 199 steps
written 6th January for Constance's B 'Breathless' blank verse contest
on the lush carpet
I explored his lips and kissed him with lust
and he responded- to ravage my mouth
we were lost in ecstasy . . .
I panted his name and he whispered mine
until
we swirled higher and higher above the clouds
like birds in a wind current
then falling
falling . . .
___________________________
June 4, 2020
Poetry/Free Verse/carpet interlude
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1258-111-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Some Kind of Sensual
sponsor, Nette Onclaud, 45 words
First Place
OH, Hobbitfeet in Birkenstocks
Puritanical piglets oinkfest
O'er the Shambridge Shantabridgians
Alliedallies reconoitering
Panted depth of tofuloitring
Agag on ersatzphermony
100%meatlessbaloney
Aghastyeflippinsqueekinwheels
Obsessivetoucheyfeelysqueals
Withwizenedtipofwhiskeywhine
Vanwinklingtheft OHbeardedtime
5/23/2020
There was a fountain in an African desert.
Long ago it ceased to exist for the tropical heat,
But its subterranean canals were intact;
And one day, when the earth was hot indeed,
The dry surface of the ground panted like a mare.
There came a storm, a tempestuous storm and rain,
Which drenched the thirsty trees, and rejuvenated
That geyser fountain, gushing forth above the ground
Like a vigorous jet of hot water to satiate the soil,
Again and again, for it was suppressed for long.
An earthquake shook the plates under it,
Aftershocks poured in— violent tremors, which
Continued to shake the ground up and down
Until the fountain gathered more strength, and flowed
To disappear into a holy cave of enormous pleasure.
From there arose a new being, a fresh new being.
Metaphor of love poetry contest
Sponsored by Bobby May
11/11/2019
I had many words,
hadn't need ink
though I wrote into inside paper
without body
some peacock feathers
greeted me
to some night west stars,
a star eyed me
on a planet
I panted thousands acre trees
there birds built their nests
I was loving all birds crossing seven seas
I was lying down on the bed
and seeing crossing the window glass
the far horizon stole the written words
by licking of kitten tongue smelled ruminated flush
this morning I find me unaided due
and discover these all were you
-Sunday, June 23, 2019 Chattogram
Sub Categories
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