Short Scabbard Poems

All pain is the labour of a pregnant woman
on a baseless lead with no need for a foreman
drop the sword in the scabbard
no danger, it’s not that bad
be cautious, be vigilant also be human....

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Harsh winds, salt spray
familiar weight of bloodstained sabre 
hanging in a pilfered scabbard
one voice among the mayhem heeded
FULL SAIL - CAPTURE THE WIND
LEST WE BE O'ER TAKEN
BEWARE THE SHOALS!


6/25/2020...

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One must learn to thrive
Three years of perseverance
Two now pleaded lenience

Three bleeding hearts…. what about the scars, she could never discard?
Everything is fair in love and war; two swords do not fit into one scabbard.

(Thrive on-HC)

27/2/19

Charliekucoup Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina...

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The hands moved in Surveillance
Striking with close encounters
Hold the stiff banana love
In firm grips to kiss and peel:

Limbs squeeze in Execution
Pumping member draws nectar,
From within the two petals:
Stay clear for they are the x-rated.    

'Xenos' the plundering Greek;
Naked without erotica
Dives into the wet sea:
Sex loves these scabbard walls....

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Wrap due attire
In stern satire,
Hold back hot fire,
Gaze steep and dire.


Drape the sharp blade
In scabbard made,
Cuts do not trade,
If you must grade.


Set your firm poise
With a clear voice,
Dilute the noise,
Spark your calm choice.


Be willing now
To fling endow,
Know not just how,
Spice a sure bow.




Leon Enriquez
28 July 2018
Singapore...

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On my knees in meditation
As my enemy close in
I can see them in my minds eye
I will grant the their wish to die

So as i rise upon my feet
In their hearts they know their beat
As my sword leaves the scabbard 
As i shout my battle cry

So now in the middle of this futile fray
My sword slashing faster than the suns rays
For the murder of my master these ronin must pay
So now today is the end of their days...

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The penis.

Mightier than the sword?
Flaccid ruler overseeing
an asylum of nuts.

The blade may cut and thrust,
yet an organ driven
by lust
can inflict a
deeper scar.

Kingdoms lost in battle,
which would ne'er have been fought.

Herds of women, 
Like cattle, 
strive to bed the King.
For a ring.

To be his wife,
which alas,
rhymes with
Strife.

Let battle commence.
Methinks a scabbard victory....

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I'm a briny whore
wit' reekin' drawers
me honor ter make yer acquenchance
th' skipper's maid
me port's decayed
one doubloon, yer seafarin' urchin?

Yer scurvy rat
a-crawl wit' gnat
orf seadog scourged wit' rabid 
yer cannon's immense
'tis cocked 'n tense
yer cutlass be yearnin' me scabbard

Yer stench o' sewer
me bits'll chew yer
bumps 'n boils 'n rottin' flesh
yer britches singe
yer helm unhinge
ter boot yer hornpipe thump 'n thresh

2013-11-20...

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Sound of a sad flute creeps around the temple,
as the Katana sword slides away from its scabbard;
it is slid with so much care;
as though it is a five centuries-old Buddha’s 
statue.
Its blade glitters in the ghostly Autumn full moon,
fooling anyone to believe it hasn't slit
any throat, belly, or chest.
The Katana and the Samurai warrior are One;
he has a calling to obey its whispers in his intuition,
to slit whoever it chooses….


Poetry Form: Free Verse

Date: 4/20/2016...

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Listen to poem:

" ...betrayal begins with trust." Quote_ Phish  

Betrayal is the cold shiny sword
of stalking deception,
sheathed in scabbard of trust.
Its two-edged blade is 
honed to razor sharp,
ready to thrust, lunge and parry
a touche touch.

Betrayal is two-faced
and unreliable.
There's a switch blade in
the hand that reaches out
trustingly and faithfully
for more of you.

So as trust grows,
beware that it sows
the seeds of scorns 
in the thorns
of treachery
and bribery....

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