Short Hounding Poems

he lives in man cave
to be free from hounding wife
man's divine pleasure...

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Like a shadow of yesteryear
Kept hounding like a vexed specter


04/25/16...

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Had a crazy dream last night in my bunk
Was an amazingly handsome Hollywood Hunk
Girls kept hounding me
For my bod to see
Don't blame them, got some amazing he-man junk...

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Had a crazy dream last night in my bunk
Was an amazingly handsome Hollywood Hunk
Girls kept hounding me
For my bod to see
Don't blame them, got some amazing he-man junk...

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Had a crazy dream last night in my bunk
Was an amazingly handsome Hollywood Hunk
Girls kept hounding me
For my bod to see
Don't blame them, got some amazing he-man junk...

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Had a crazy dream last night in my bunk
Was an amazingly handsome Hollywood Hunk
Girls kept hounding me
For my bod to see
Don't blame them, got some amazing he-man junk


© Jack Ellison 2016...

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Let’s go horseback riding; it will be fun!
I say “I don’t want to.”
She keeps hounding me.
I say “Do you want me to lie?”
I finally lie.

Because I fell off a horse
When I was five
When I was eight
When I was thirteen.
None of these times was fun....

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This world screams at you.
"Your birth insults me,
and I will break you.
Feel time slip away,
And your loves destroyed."

"I never stop.
Relentless Time.
Hounding your mind.
Slaving to eat."

"Crushing you.
Twisting you.
Molding you."

"Until
You Are."

"Dead"...

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Lost within the corridors of my mind,
With no end in sight,
I panicked  in fright,
For shadows hound,
And the ground groans,
Were must I go,
To and fro
My mind gos,
What is this madness,
Infecting,
Spreading,
My mind runs away from me,
Oh god the shadows hound, 
running me into the ground....

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It’s too early to prite woetry.
Let me hay lere in my bed.
I hartied pardy. Woe is me.
Oh, my hounding pead!

My joughts are thumbled. My oh my.
It’s hust so jard to think.
I heel so forrid; why oh why?
Did someone dike my sprink?

Good grief, it’s tuch moo early to awake.
It’s ten a.m for seaven’s hake!

 January 23, 2017...

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From the egg comes the Prince,
He’s got a long way to go,
He can only become King,
When the Prince has to go

It’s in his darkness that he learns to grow,
From the seed to the tree,
How big can he be?

He looks up, he looks down,
His balance, the middle ground

He must go back to the egg,
To release the hound,
Only then, the King can be found...

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Enraptured
Right here, in this misty moment
Missing you,
My soul burns  
Feeling pulsation of your being.

This warmth, courteous as zephyr breeze
Invisible as new moment's gift, meeting you
I'll savor this consuming sting of torment
Needing you.

Such ravenous hunger
Hounding me like Cupid's stare,
I must simmer, but
All I see, and feel, and breathe, 
Embraces us.

*...

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Billys bald bonce brought barmy thoughts
It's getting cold Billy your skin is all white
What will I do, with what, to stop the withering look
Brave Billy bought a buffalo  hat to keep warm
Mightily minging* my many thoughts conveyed
Big furry ears sure as heck did the trick
Billy’s bald bonce is balmy ok, bright puce in colour
Hmm why are the hungry hounds hounding him all day?

* dirty and smelly

Penned 4 November 2016...

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Lascivious he was,
Crippled with avarice,
He had twinkling stars,
Shining in his eyes,
They called him lecher,
His face used to screw up in bravado,
As he went about his job of hounding “shes”,
This years back when he was young,
I met him after several years,
He was no longer the same,
He still brightened up at “shes” sight,
But was no longer on the same flight,
Now he recognized a fellow human,
And treated all of them like women....

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Autumn Mix,
lords great fix,
falling upon the ground,
I will keep hounding,
the falling leaves swirling,
round in circles,
like a hurricane,
they are sure not plain.

Veins pretruding through the array of autumnal colors,
forget your pink and purple pastels,
it's your browns, yellows, and reds,
forlorn above our heads,
so sharp could cut like a pin prick to the paper skin,
I could never forgive,
or mourn or lose,
this beautiful, radiant, and cut throat season....

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God,these companies are a scourge!
Please stop ringing me
is all I urge.
Ringing me every day,
why don't you
just go away.
I don't want to take
your call,
I might not 
answer it at all.
So please don't ring me anymore,
like I've told you,
loads before.
If you ring me
one more time,
I'll have no choice
but to block my line.
Then maybe I can get some sleep,
free from that annoying
constant beep.
How the hell
do you sleep at night?
Hounding people
just isn't right....

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Behind walls
Within the stairs
Beware and scare
Eerie
Spooky 
Haunted house
Frightened mouse
Squeaks and moans
Alone
Front door locks
No way out
Soul’s moving about
Framing pictures eyes observe
Forbidden
Hidden
It is written
Whoever enters
Never leave
Lightning flashes
Thunder cracks
Shouts of Death, Death and Death
Hearts pounding
Emotions reacting
The voice of fright
Day and night
Haunted and hounding
Surrounded forever
Trapped
For all time...

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Lee had dreamed of a woman with blue eyes.
It is only a dream! Everyone told him.
I think she is my soul mate, he said.
I am holding out for her.

He held out and held out and held out.
The only sibling in his family who was not married.
His family was hounding him now.
They wanted him married and happy.

I have not found her! He persisted.
Finally they wore him down.
He dated a girl with brown eyes.
At their wedding dance he saw the girl with the blue eyes....

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Nevermore you will talk 
of the forked tongue.
The genie was out-
in the jungle of legs.

Hunger was in plain sight.
You were wary of the wild-
dogs hounding at your gate.
An augury of some spilled blood ?

Lachrymal, the soot trickles 
down from the black eyes on-
the marbled breast of a lone
survivor in the city of tombs.

Exhume you must the naked 
truth ? I will not ask the name
of the ravisher, in this crowd
of fast disappearing shoes.


Satish Verma...

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phrases whipped
feelings Pen"man"Shipped 
from Continental African Minds, 
to AmeriCaribbean Paper Colonies
i am a Slave of Poetry

toiling under hot shining scrutiny
in boundless green feelings
i am a Slave of Poetry

shackled in the dark
dark corners of my mind
malnourished of inspiration
i am a Slave of Poetry

escape this
critics hounding my heels
"massa" hunting me down
how many more till 
i can write my freedom
become a Poet
no longer a Slave of Poetry...

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29
The everyday sleeper remembers not
Shallow dreams sold and bought
But subliminal stress the dreamer’s fraught
Horrid ghosts that all forgot.

The door is open but you are locked
In a dusty cabin where shelves are stocked
With unused provisions unusually docked
Behind the can goods walls are pocked.

Often find my fantast journey here
In run down houses  abused and seared
With falling floorboards and multiple tiers
Decaying dwelling hounding my fears.

Emotion/Fear...

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