Servitude Poems

The Culinary Shepherd

In the heart of the kitchen, where flavors collide,  
You wield your vocation, with passion and pride.  
Anointed by Heaven, with gifts that you bring,  
To nourish both body and spirit, you sing.  

With skilled hands you blend, a mosaic so fine,  
A feast for the senses, where taste interlines.

Born a Sacrifice

The classic tale Centuries-old
through self-owned reliance
a hero rises from the cold
But Within these chapters carefully hidden
Upon the pages where this story is written
Between the lines is the story untold
Of the acts of love
by the willfully forfeited soul

Born a sacrifice
Meant to be consumed
A life never lived
Born to be used
Created as a vessel 
To hold an elixir

Servitude

I suppose there’s a difference
between voluntary and involuntary servitude,
maybe in the same way consenting adults 
enter into all sorts of degrading personal situations
which otherwise would be major felonies,
but when it’s happening
it doesn’t feel much different;
servitude is servitude after all.

As the Great Bard once said,
“you have to serve somebody”,
and the spectrum of service certainly is broad;
from

Servitude

Creep, oh centipede! 
    A malady to my cornea. 
Like kernels a decoy
    In my Eden realm. 
I'm infuriate to civility
    Just us serenity intervene. 
Serendipity smock my bones
    In solitude. 
Here it is, your servitude
    Of search.

Substitution

Eviscerate my being! Distort my face!
Bring me closure to my ego; replace!
Seizure in dark games through which we interlace,
Beckoning the reaper's embrace.    

Subvert my empathy!
Break me into colluded ecstasy!
Mold me in your image of apathy!
Put me in a daze of senseful apogee!

If only I could help You experience the same...
If only I

Initiation

A wild wisp,
bound by a vile kiss.
A rogue thought,
bound by flesh and an unchaste heart.

The parallax of bliss..

An outcast shut in.
Withering in distraught.
Die blessed, you stand in my cold rot, 
Your flow taught.

Beckoned by a teal whisper,
enticing the senses to tame.
Amethyst's fragile wish,
inviting my essence to claim.

Your coy hum softens the core,
irrigates lust, makes me

Thank You For Your Servitude

The powers,
the powers 'that be'
wish to thank you
for your on-going servitude,
for your compliance,
conformity,
acquiescence,
gullibility,
subservience,
apathy,
disinterest,
inattention,
and your willful or blind ignorance.
We gratefully accept
your abject submission
as we strive to eradicate
all opposition
and discussion.
You are the very best of sheep,
the most loyal of lambs.
We applaud your
naiveté and lack of interest
in our secretive regime.
We keep your secrets
so you do not have to.
May

All Thanks To Poetrysoup

Abc to the P
Servitude, will I flee
Captivity, I sue.
All thanks to poetrysoup

Like a lion,
I roar
With the Iron,
I roll,
Poetrysoup's throne,
Will I stand to withhold 

In the berth of little pen,
Lost in the depth of sinful den
And falls on the lanky route.
Sighting above, poetrysoup's root,
I cruise like a soldier in his lusty hood.

In the emptiness of proficiency,
Dying

Servitude

I’m willing to accept
that it’s all but a cloud
Memory behind me,
and draped in a shroud

I’m willing to accept
my fatality deemed
A portal indentured
—to dreams left undreamed

(Dreamsleep: July, 2021)

A Rebel

Somewhere in the wilderness,
Among the barren deserts,
And under the swarthy clouds
Lie the dilapidated destination
Of a poor homeless rebel,
Victimized unmercifully to fall
Like a drop of rain waited long!

There is a burning sand, 
Perforating his bootless heels
With each prick eat up and engulf
The rest of blood from his dry veins
And does challenge his undanted will
Not to subdue

Servitude

see wane of despair,
pains more deeply inside.
"Feed My sheep", I will

Our Servitude

Our Servitude

Microsoft a macro problem has become
If of little intelligence, deaf and dumb
Complex becomes their word of the day
Consumers convert to Apple right away.

Problems Microsoft definitely is denying
Gave free update Windows 10 to be trying
To have corrected clutter caused by eight
Expecting all of us to happily celebrate.

What other choice do we have to choose?
If we

Alcoholic Servitude

Lead me towards 
your light like the 
three wise me of old 
oh famous STAR.

Make me a grand 
gladiator in  your 
sacrid arena,tasting 
ultimate victory oh 
GULDER.

Tune my ears to your 
alluring melody, great 
HARP of ancient 
singers.

Lead me to the path 
where my diva lie 
still,awating my 
reviving touch,am at 
your servitude dear

The Servitude of Words

Muted words linger in limbo
imprisoned between many leaves
bound together in the darkness
of a poet’s tried thesaurus.
Their alphabetic existence
is but an endless servitude
whose individual meanings
chosen and together sequenced
for the glory of the poet.
The many verses read aloud
gives each utile word a voice
and continues till completion.
Then darkness returns once again
as the reference book is closed.

Adventured Servitude

IN VENTURED SERVITUDE

Faster and faster 
it became my master
Quicker and quicker 
I became sicker
I blazed a trail to the dark side of tomorrow
Then laid a highway to a city they call “sorrow”
More and more 
I needed to score
And too oft the pickings were far too slim
So if she had to re-up I’d cop from him
Longer

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