It was a perfect day, a sunny golden day.
I felt the gentle sweep of easy breezes,
the music of the wind.
It was my daily stroll around the neighborhood,
my daily clarity.
It was there, and then I beheld the cat,
the leashed Siamese cat, prowling and smelling.
A man clutched this leash, seeming absorbed,
seeming preoccupied by cat rubbing and sniffing,
cat prowling and surveying land and sky.
Never had I witnessed a leashed cat.
This was a way we controlled and humanized dogs.
Cats were always wilder, less human, and freer.
My usual steps brought me nearer to
the cat on a leash. The owner had his back to me,
he seemed unaware of my approach.
But Siamese cat offered me a predatory stare,
ready to pounce on my flopping shoelaces.
I knew then my shoes were doomed,
my laces would soon die.
No, I couldn’t stop laughing.
Categories:
predatory, animal, cat, cute, funny,
Form: Narrative
I'd heard a story some years ago of thirteen cautions let it be known.'
On gordon brown (prime minister then) about lewd acts with young
Boys not men!
And not uoon the sports field (you'll now ken!) Reuters knew yet a
Story ever aired.? How badly could all news sources be impaired?
Categories:
predatory, appreciation, celebrity,
Form: Rhyme
Screech of owl with shrieking caterwauling
doesn’t startle me at all
until wings shroud the sky.
My blessed-courage takes cover real fast
as the rodent alongside’s
encroached on by talons.
The thick presence of the owl says don’t look,
turn a blind eye to his kill
as neck turns one slick eye.
He has no taste for human flesh except
if two legs gets in his way -
predatory suspense.
Categories:
predatory, bird, scary,
Form: Kimo
I see him there
Hiding
Peering through
Damp blades of grass
Weighing the odds
Wet track
Thick grass
Slick surface
The bauble hangs
Tauntingly
Glistening
In a shimmering wind
Claws clench
Shoulders tense
A final flip
Of an impatient
Predatory tail…
Categories:
predatory, cat, nature, pets,
Form: Free verse
Accept the "Holy Fathers" stains?
What prideful tolerance sustains
The acts by priestly "Confessors"
Whose transgressions we all deplore.
Their molestations cause such pain
That no repentance can explain
To parishes stretched far and wide -
To innocents they cast aside.
Religious aristocracy,
Duplicitous conformity,
Accepted this hypocrisy -
This predatory blasphemy.
Faux piety to hide their shame,
Disdaining good and shielding blame;
No deft Indulgence could resolve -
No Inquisition would absolve.
Despicable to humankind,
By words and deeds now left behind;
No con nor lies supplant the proof:
The mirror to self-damning truth.
These crimes, these aggravated sins -
Atrocities no words can spin,
Nor can appeal 'yond earthly reign
For acquiesced eternal stains.
Categories:
predatory, betrayal, christian, evil, humanity,
Form: Rhyme
Particularly peripatetic
penguins pursue pharmacological
possibilities perusing polar
predator proboscis predilections,
predominantly picking putrified,
phenobarbital-packed perch-piece puree
packings, provocatively presented.
----------
I wish I could have gotten a rhyme in there as well,
but that's an alliterative Pleiades with 10-syllable lines.
It's also a near summary of the latest escapades over on
the collaborative limerick thread in forums...
Come join us!
Categories:
predatory, silly,
Form: Pleiades
She is insatiable;predatory
In business always valedictory
Sees no conflict of interest in her position
Spurns financial disclosure requisition
She strides like a colossus, speedily
Eating smaller fry greedily
Using as an opportunity every disrupter
Allowing nothing or nobody to be an interrupter
Categories:
predatory, 12th grade, africa,
Form: Rhyme
Predatory Riches Upset French Presidential Campaign
#Fillon, rich and predatory,’s in the slime,
Took public money for his wife so fine.
His campaign to advance
To President of #France
Has people saying, 'He’s passed a red line.'
It's tough on Penelopé,
Who's slaved for her man,
But the money 'enveloppé'
Counts her work as a sham,
So she's on a slippery slope,
Is his dear Penelope.
(French president election 2017 : François Fillon, former prime minister, conservative candidate, is accused of using public money to pay his wife, Penelope in French 'penny lope'), for a ‘fictive job’ as his parliamentary assistant. She is under judicial investigation for ‘receiving’.
Categories:
predatory, french,
Form: Political Verse
Surge of rage in domes of violence
skins the history, becomes a frozen embryo
of genetic markers, shimmers in society,
race and native shirts.
Enters into the creation of a saga
accomplished by advancing poppies;
there was no connection to ancestors.
Brutalizing golden dawn
leaves a bitter taste.
They were fighting with broken swords.
Virgin flesh becomes moon face,
bloats for a fatal jump,
on to the widow’s peak
of a dancing star at sun-set point.
The innocence cleaves the night
to implant the bride’s lips.
I am lost in a sheared landscape
there is no singing tree.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
predatory, art,
Form: ABC
There are too many roads,
that have lead me down it's path ---
It seems the further I journey,
the more society shows me their rath ---
So I go on into this mystery called life ---
Even though each day greets me like an ex-wife ---
Burdens do not diminish as one grows older ---
Infact trouble doubles and the public seems colder ---
When I am out and trying to have some fun ---
I run into individuals who attack like a sniper's gun ---
Not with an angry fist or an evil word ---
Rather they'll cast an evil eye, like a predatory bird ---
Relations often tell me to ignore this harrasment and pay them no mind ---
This is rather difficult when these citizens act like they are out of their mind ---
Pushing and shoving to get ahead everyday ---
Just to make enough money to live day to day ---
In the end when there is nothing left to do but die ---
Will you laugh and be at peace or scream and start to cry?
Categories:
predatory, philosophyday, me, day, evil,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
Surge of rage in domes of violence
skins the history, becomes a frozen embryo
of genetic markers, shimmers in society,
race and native shirts.
Enters into the creation of a saga
accomplished by advancing poppies;
there was no connection to ancestors.
Brutalizing golden dawn
leaves a bitter taste.
They were fighting with broken swords.
Virgin flesh becomes moon face,
bloats for a fatal jump,
on to the widow’s peak
of a dancing star at sun-set point.
The innocence cleaves the night
to implant the bride’s lips.
I am lost in a sheared landscape
there is no singing tree.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
predatory, adventure, allegory, angst, animals,
Form: I do not know?