Slaked Poems

Lunatic Moon

Lunatic Moon

A Moon.
THE Moon.
Moon-Eyed Pie…
Still Enormous Looming
Ever-Present In
OUR Sky:

Surprise!

All We Understand
Or Think We Do, Denies…
The Dew-Eyed Joy
We Dreamed Into
Your Wisdom's
Loving Lies.

So Wise!

Looming Long
Historically, We've
Suffered You With Death…
We've Stared With Tears
About Your Face
While Stuttering Each Breath.

We've Slaked And Quenched
Entire Needs 
We Dedicate On You….

Shall I Share The Truth?

My Billowing Moon:
All Dressed, 
Addressed 
In Mystery Blue?

-Gray Squirrel

09-05-2025

sublime sanctum

sea of life
pulsates on passion waves 
         sapphire serenity drapes its depth
I sink slaked
within the submerged soul
          search for the sublime sanctum

VICTORY

VICTORY

I never did succeed at first
Yet winning never slaked my thirst
But giving up I can’t abide
At least I know that I have tried

Can no-one ever scale that wall
Too high for some, no chance at all
A brave attempt can’t be denied
At least I know that I have tried

Does anyone run the fastest mile
Or finish races with a smile
I still have much resolve inside
At least I know that I have tried

I never did succeed at first
At least I know that I have tried

Mediocrity

I'm an ordinary sort...
Nothing much to see.
No shining star to mark my space...
No glory there to be.

I've lived my life as best I could
With few laurels to provide.
Just one who walks in whispers
With mediocrity as my guide.

But times they are a changing
As normality bids adieu.
There are malcontents who flourish...
What's a common man to do?

With a world slaked in chaos...
The dregs will have their way.
So mediocrity is not so bad...
When stupidity rues the day.

           The End

Safe Harbor Discovery

Written: October 22, 2023 
                   ___________________________________

In the murky backdrop of my remote dreams.
Still has the enticing taste of your whisper.
To fester in my skeleton till tomorrow.

Storing long-dormant slaked thirst till tomorrow.
I'll wander quiet pastures in crystal dreams.
What relics, amid the dwindling whispers.

Esoteric pulse in veins, leading to a whisper.
Time is ethereal, and it inveigles tomorrow.
My fatuous soul implies in my dreams.

Dreams webbed by whispers descry solace tomorrow.

Silence

Life sea
wavers on waves. 
In depth, draped serene still, 
I sink, search slaked in submerged soul, 
silence.

Fluidic Flight

Flying around so dextrously 
Her wee heart beating rapidly 
Humming about excitedly 
O sweet water levitate me

Her wings impossible to see
Form a blurry consistency
On whim of a scent she will flee
O sweet water levitate me

Slow motion will reveal esprit 
Sideways or three sixty degree
Her nuanced bluffs forever free
O sweet water levitate me

Overcoming earths gravity 
Light as a summer breeze is she
My thirst now slaked subjectively 
O sweet nectar levitate me 


A KYRIELLE ABOUT WATER Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues 
How many syllables 16x8
08/25/22

The Last Lover of Heroes

Squalid were those days of thuggish delight
When the fat land's spirit the small Goths stole.
Joy was a thirst slaked, forever a night,
In that corpulent desert of mean soul.
 
But pastel virtue slowly starves a man
To walking death lest spurred by hunger's throes.
Standing apart I shunned the dead hearts' Pan
And found you, the last lover of heroes.
 
Of fleshy spirit living colors bold
You nourished me on the ripe joys to come
When truth and beauty are wrenched from lust's scold
And repatriated to love's kingdom.
 
Now together gray at time's ragged edge
With your love to the morrow I still pledge.

Will You Come

Will you come?

Will you come?
To quest,
Knock my door
Come and play the flute 
Unforgettable memories,
And forgiven melancholic throb
Now shrouded in mist.

Those nights, all perfumed in lavender 
Gone mornings, drizzled quilt the rooftop
The room was curtain in pearls and whites
Grey ashes stained the fireplace 
Everything taled their fierce affair!

Miles away from your abode, I lie...
Beneath the moon
Woods were deep in dark
Droughted souls witnessed 
My wounds,
The death and my cadaver.

All your silken touches,
Warmth and cuddles of your body, 
I fallen asleep when you sang lullabies.
Come, slaked the drought days
Bring elixir to the life to live again 
Come, unearth my grave 
Feel my heart aches, my rotten veins here
Buried lone and longing for you...
Will you come?
Come,
Unearth my grave...

Withering

I opened my heart, as a bud in bloom
A fragile flower, gently held in his arms
I welcomed the warmth of his touch
He was my morning dew, slaked my thirst
and sated my hunger for love.
His words were whispered in my ear.

But now, his utterances rip my petals apart
Cruel inflictions play havoc on my soul,
His language hurls daggers at my heart

I'm tortured and tormented with toxic chiding
His voice is venom from the fangs of a snake, 
leaving puncture wounds, dripping with blood.

His angry words strip me bare of dignity
With each flay of his tongue, I am whipped 
I'm withering like a clipped rose,
exposed to a scourge of abusive speech 

What ails my heart leaves no bodily scars
I need benediction to heal my wounds
but I know the answer to my prayers
will never come from his cursed lips

And although it's not easy to forgive him,
I do because I am guilty of self-infliction.
The love I have for him is an addiction,
and for this weakness, I suffer the pain
of allowing his words to pummel my heart
again and again



August 10th, 2020
Inflictions Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One

Precious

Luke 15:11-32 

In search of delight, I wandered away
Exchanged my inheritance for nothing at all.

Choking on filth, suffocating in sin
I drew one last breath, and dared venture home.

Upon my knees with pod stained cheeks
When from afar you beckoned me near.

You ringed me and robed me, welcomed me home
Cleansed and clutched me, claimed me your own.

With open side, you slay me forgiven
With tender gaze, you tended my wounds
With pierced hands, you slaked me Precious

Your Mercy; my treasure
Your Name; my inheritance
Your Word; my path
Your Kingdom; my home.


"This brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

Chentelle Anne Cooke
Favorite Scripture Contest
Submitted June 3, 2020

You Are Rolling Across the World Covid19

You are rolling across the world 
A tremendous wave

Like a Tsunami
Leaving death in your wake

You invisible killer
Your thirst not yet slaked

Spitting your poison 
Like a venomous snake

But we mankind are now wide awake
And the time is soon coming
Where we will dance on your grave

So write your own epitaph now Covid19
Because that is your designated name

But we won't mark it
On your tombstone

But celebrate
We stopped your flood
Because enough is enough

And it's time now for humanity 
To share some love

But not with thee

DAMOx

Acquisition of Mortal Knowledge

For the nonce, living soul,

you will breathe in new lessons through our tender tethering

as your seeking thirst is slaked through your skin;

for life's osmosis seeps mortal knowledge not implanted at conception.


Susan Ashley
September 16, 2019


~ Second Place ~
Contest: Arbitrium Divisa 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Gregory R. Barden


*An excerpt from: Odyssey Of A Soul; written June 8, 2018*

Endure the Last Days of Summer Rubaiyat

When the steam rises in the morn,
sun hot on body like reading ****,
salt cakes on skin that drips and stinks,
it's time to eat fresh crops of corn.

Humid air chokes breath with fire,
journeys plague--the need to pump tires,
the search for shade goes unspoken,
just plop down, read what's on the wire.

Blossoms sag heavy with pollen.
Animals huddle to back pen.
Mint's refreshment settles sad mind
over ice splashed with gin in den.

Day to day drags heavy on bones.
Salt taken with ham and corn pone.
All is slaked by the mental dream
take cash, run away, don't mind loans.

Cool sea splashes and bared bodies
are as soul good as hot toddies.
Climb aboard your board, sole captain.
Surf's cool free as winning lottery.

9/12/2018

Window Shopping At the Gym

WINDOW SHOPPING AT THE GYM

pomp flex
                  smooched pecs
                                              glass necks
                                                                    slaked sex

stocked Adonis       pomp flex      smooched pecs wink
gym’s monstrous blown glass necks,  slaked sex drink

5/7/2017
Tyburn Form
Humor

• Short Slaked Poems
• Famous Slaked Poems
• Best Slaked Poems
• Read Slaked Poems
• Long Slaked Poems
• Slaked Quotes