Slake Poems | Examples

All the Colours have Faded

All the colours have faded

Leaving me to feel so jaded

Everyone appears so fake

No joy for the soul to slake

I wonder here and there

Hoping to find something fair

A laugh or smile, not a smirk

To lift the darkness that lurks



All the colours are faded

Even you have become jaded

We no longer see the rainbow

Instead we watch from a window

We experience everything outwardly

Making us feel even more dastardly

The fog in our minds creates a haze

Our reality we live in a daze



All the colours have faded

Our hearts with coldness saddened

No light left for a glimpse of compassion

The world turns taught with tension

Each mind caught in its own prison

Our senses dead, cannot reflect like a prism

Each waiting for a catalyst event

For their lives to re-invent



By Cathrin Stuart

I Will Not Dance With Death

I'm going to tell you a tale that may frighten you
about the precursor of death that will pursue...

There's iridescent beauty found on his ebony wings
but always of impending death his cawing sings.
He perches as a grim reaper on the fence, taunting
as if on my gravestone to bring fear and daunting

A dance step to his left then quickly to the right
He takes wicked pleasure, but I will feel no fright
for never will I weep and as long as I remain alive
His corvine refrain fortifies my strength to survive

Black as pitch he sits, fluttering wings on my gate
I refuse to accept him as foreshadower of my fate
I'm not destined to be the carrion that he will feast
In shadows, day and night, lingers the black beast

Jeering with an evil stare, are bright beady eyes
His dark presence I've come to loathe and despise
Blackguard! I shall curse him until my last breath
Begone raven! Today, I will not waltz with death

Now you know the tale of what keeps me awake
It's the macabre one whose thirst I refuse to slake
I am still alive and have not yet fallen from grace
So, I will not let him lead me to an unholy place

Passion

Ardor feels are divine
Bodies erotically entwine
Caresses eagerly connect
Desires meet to intersect 
Emotions feed passion
Fondlings sassy fashion
Gasps praise movement
Hearts pump excitement 
Intimate whispers tingle
Joining lips mingle
Kisses feed desire
Loins share ardor’s fire
Moving hips enthuse
Needy bodies fuse  
Outcries express zeal
Pleasure pulses appeal
Quenched libidos slake
Ravenous wants take
Silk sensuality grooves
Tantalize rhythm moves
Unleashed hunger plunders 
Velvet kisses thunder
Waves ebb and flow pleasure
Xanadu houses flesh treasure
Yearnings flame with lust
Zing intensifies thrust

Ancient Home

Haibun 

Inky dark night. Jewels in the heavens sparkle like diamonds in a necklace. The Seven Sisters wink seductively while trying to sit in Cassiopeia’s Chair. Orion chases Ursa Major and her cub when he stops to slake his thirst from the Big Dipper. Great Leo butts’ heads with mighty Aries. Sirius, the Dog Star, is the glowing eye of Canis Major as she helps Orion track Ursa. Faint Polaris guides mariners to home port from the tail of The Little Dipper.

new moon
a black palette rules the sky
stars come out to play

The distant galaxies show off their faint light as clustered pinpoints as if the black curtain were pricked multiple times by a needle. Sagittarius points the way to the center of the Milky Way. Nurseries of star forming clusters birth new babies to populate the sky as old ones blow up and die. In the middle lie the monstrous supermassive black holes which suck all light in to their mighty maws bending time and gravity to their will.

	are they our ancient home
	signals from a distant past
	will we return to them

6 W's

6 W's

So it is again.
Caught in the cycle of life.

Where everything is responsibility, expectations, and decay.
And the bastards beat you down with their rules and their deadlines.
Where the weeks leave you weak day by day, with just enough time to recover for the grind.

When the dreams are all dead, or dying, and every dull moment feels like chewing tin foil. 
When realizing fate, merely hurry up and wait, with nothing to sate, or slake your empty mouth on this coil

What is the promise of tomorrow? It never comes, always hours out of reach.
What is the point in all this sorrow? Is there something I could learn, or I should teach?

Who could stand such cruel fates?
Love, star crossed my heart and hoped to die.
Who could weather this weather? Autumn came with a roar, and spring let out a sigh.

How long is longing? Is there something yet to come that's worth the wait?
How much time is time? I pray I do not find that answer out too late.

So I sit with my coffee, my clock, and my silent guitar, and wonder

Why?

My return to Orion 2

Return to Orion

My return too Orion, 
on an endless promise with no "best before" 
i reach out. 
I chose the colors of transit, from the pallet supplied; Violet over blue, deep grey fuelled by a white hot destiny! 
The rise then fall oh! how calm the now: 
No conection between its clock and the dust of passing days. 
I attempt to slake a thirst so grim ; 
Split lipped, throat bare! 
Skin so thin as a veil, as film! 
As a bare body! 
Floating amongst the tides of stars,
and celestial Ghosts. 
Only the disolving clock is visable, obscuring time "invisible" !
On the rushing elemental sleigh, speeding through the gushing air, while burning fire brushes my lips, the water of tears cools the re-birth, held in a palm, its time to depart, a flight on a perpetual journey.

November Rain

The evening of November first
Brought forth a gentle rain
For autumn sought to slake its thirst
While October had abstained

How fair to spare the children
That they might prowl the night
And their candy sacks be filled then
To their costumed hearts’ delight

Now November comes to claim
The scent of cold, wet stone
As the first of all fall rains
Seeps deep into this poem.

Wedding Toast

I am at a wedding
in Iowa.
She called to tell me 
that the orange afterimage
from that afternoon five years ago
has filled her brain for the first time
in years.

I don’t have the heart
to tell her I am at a wedding
in Iowa

& that the memory of her sits
in the front of my mind each day
like a scarecrow in a corn field.

It wouldn’t break her heart 
or anything—nothing would,

but I can’t bring myself to tell her that I 
have stolen her likeness,
I have hired a gardener, someone to tend
the apricot trees she planted,

someone to prune the ashen dust
from the perennial flowers
that grow in her stead.

Each day I pick one, 
and her hips move through the grocery store, 
her laugh echoes in a vinyl booth,
her hand moves a pawn one square forward.

I stick it in the windowsill, right
behind my eyelids and slake my thirst
on tepid water.

None of this would break her heart, of course—
nothing would.

 I don’t tell her about the wedding, the one
in Iowa, just in case.

Tasting

Treacly sweet is the juice of summer berries, 
enervating me to anticipate it upon my lips.
Savoring the confection of melted chocolate 
is a delicious flavor to lick from my fingertips.

Intoxicating my palate, is a decadent wine.
Ripened grapes leave me in a euphoric state.
Bacchus would claim, "It's simply divine!"
To slake my thirst, I'd not choose to abate.

But there are other flavors, not so appealing...
salty tears that have coursed from my eyes
or the taste of goodbye from a lover's kiss.
Bitter is the sapidity of a soul's sorrowful cries.

After tasting pure honey of unmitigated love,
there can be no substitute for the syrupy mead.
When sipped from lips, once tenderly kissed,
the desire for more becomes an obsessive need.

On the Crest of a Wave

On an early morning walk along the shore
I pondered thoughts about the ocean floor
What treasures are buried beneath its sands
Amid corals, anemones, orange sea fans
I wanted a key to unlock the seabed's door 

On the crest of a wave, what had been carried
bobbled and lobbed, back and forth parried
from shore and blown across windswept seas
Miles traveled by storms or a tropical breeze
on ocean currents, their journey never tarried

In a shallow tidal pool, a conch was stranded
A gift from Poseidon's hand, I'd been handed
I held the shell to my ear and then listened
awed by the sound while the sun glistened
Waves crested until on the beach they landed

With perfect rhythmic cadence they swelled
on a high tide until its last ripples were felled
Another always followed, close upon its wake
constantly flowing as if it had a thirst to slake
quenched by rushing ashore as if compelled

Buoyantly, bottles drift on the crest of a wave
Directed by the whims of tides, as if a slave
No ebbing waters have ever ferried one to me
I ponder how many notes drowned in the sea,
bottles speared by Neptune. Forsooth, a knave!

Lemonade

"Life's problems will be a little less bitter if we
sweeten sour lemons with the right attitude."
                                               ~ quote by poet



There are moments in our lives, perhaps days
when we thirst to leave our troubles behind.
A bitter taste upon the tongue that stays
'til a sweeter flavor we seek and find.

The cliche' about making lemonade
is great advice that everyone should take.
Life can be more delicious when it's made
without sourness when its our thirst we slake.

Lemonade,  a metaphor used to show
that bad situations can become good.
Plant a symbolic tree and watch it grow
into something much better. Understood?

Sweet lemonade served with a sprig of mint...
The drink leaves an indelible imprint.

Sign On a Backwoods Road

Hairy spiders do not grill
    steaks on consecutive Tuesdays
  due to alternate-side-residency-
    restrictions in bushes on parkways

  Nevertheless, if seeking opportunities
    to slake cracked-throat-thirst
  Welcome to the Wetlands
    where founts of poetry burst

Great Snake

This reptile leaves without a trace,
it is a sign of betrayal and disgrace,
it catches its prey with grace,

Don't you take them as merely or fake,
Medusa's thirst for blood they slake,

Oh the great snake
Oh the great snake

The caustic substance they release,
Known to lay many decease,
If you agitate your life they shall cease,

Known to be found in many lakes,
They can even fight Nathan Drake,

Oh the great snake
Oh the great snake

They are an arrow in nature's quiver,
Their bewhiching body is like a river,
This beast can impair your liver,

Killing it might seem easy as cake,
Don't try it or your life they shall take,

Oh the great snake
Oh the great snake

Water Rations In a Prison Cell

after Ho Chi Minh

I
The stone basin holds
still water. The still water

drinks the arid sponge
as rays of pure energy

slake their thirst on
the ebon wings of crows

II
Yangtze flows from widows peak
pooling briefly in the lock

of a tired eye. Dirt
and salt cry brackish tears

before leaping from sallow chin,
like rain from languid boughs

III
Frogs turn dirges beyond
translucent glass, their croaks

fold and crease the air
putting dusk on the shelf.

Aphids eat the pithy stalks
and drown in sudden morning dew.

IV
No callused hand washes
in the same basin twice

V
The kettle boils, pallid
phantoms push through iron

walls. Prescient tea leaves show
time’s current—fish swim 

upstream. Two worlds away,
a young girl draws a bath.

VI
Forehead donning liquid rosaries, 
each dawn anoints a king anew

Each afternoon, grains of rice
cling to one another, fulfilled.

Ink spills quickly each evening,
the white page laps at pitch waters.

VII
Eleemosynary sunlight burns
through the keyhole, tumblers

click in the lock. The stone basin
is once again filled with still water.

Pain of Ardor's Woes

A cup to slake the parch of thirsty lips
Spilled from heart to goblet, with love twas filled
Words penned from the nib of inked fingertips
Bouquet of wine breathed before being swilled

Seductive the taste, fervid the senses
In pursuit of desire's indulgent throes
Breaching love's barriers, hurdling fences
Therein lies proof and pain of ardor's woes

Elation lasts 'til sparks turn to ashes
Afterglow fades and impassioned flames die
Welling to surface, tears moist'ning lashes
Parting's ne'er sweet with whispers of 'goodbye'

Juliet once smiled from her balcony
Doomed in Shakespeare's romantic tragedy

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