Snakelike Poems | Examples

The River Knows

River is deep
River is wide
River flows snakelike
River has the immense wavelet

You can't cross
to meet me
who abandoned you

Don't dip your feet in the river
River becomes a waterfall
Please, don't go in
Rather sing for me with the river

"Our lives can't be one
Our love is ever one".

Where is the end of this waterway?
Where is the sing of your loveway?

Your cotton candy voice
comes on a rainbow

Becoming a waterfall song.

Stillness

She glides out of the room on tiptoe,
As graceful as a sinuous ballet,
Sliding past sad memories that flow,
Staring, scowling eyes upon her still prey.

As graceful as a sinuous ballet,
Stealthily steadfast, slipping slowly,
Staring, scowling eyes upon her still prey,
She’s ready to strike bloodthirstily.

Stealthily steadfast, slipping slowly,
Marked double-crossing husband might have guessed,
She’s ready to strike bloodthirstily,
As he unwittingly lies down to rest.

Marked double-crossing husband might have guessed,
Slithering snakelike, it’s his scornful wife,                                                                                  
As he unwittingly lies down to rest,
She swoops in silently with sharpened knife.

Like a surgeon’s slash it’s very precise,
Sliding past sad memories that flow,
With bloodied knife in hand, it’s once, twice, thrice,
She glides out of the room on tiptoe.

Lone

Snakelike writhing twisting clenching soul pain.
Shooting needles crystal shards sharp and fine
Blame shame there is no gain along this vein
Mundane challenge gives no freedom to chime.
Music slowing, life blind with mist and fogs
brain seize, monochrome visions seep inside.
Lone in self, connection broken, stops cogs.
Turning whirling synapses all now fried.
Far memories brighter than the now dark 
reality, by far outshine day now.
Solace they give for the ink black down heart.
The climb up from the depth we know not how
Shining on and in our memories through.
Hale whole body laughing forever you.
 
30/1/2020

I That Troddeth Through Flames of Hades To Burn

I That Troddeth Through Flames Of Hades To Burn

I that troddeth through flames of Hades to burn
Sheddeth my blacken, snakelike and scaly skin
As glowing embers scorch me, this I did learn
Man has no other course but to wallow in sin.

This dark world, its ungodly gifting of pleasure
Holds sweetest, that taste of our depraving lusts
As evil enfolds life and casts its false treasures
Its blackened winds destroy with their hidden gusts!

Pray tell, which saving grace awaits one's reaching hand
And will wield power, to a long, lost soul rescue
Doom and gloom are true shadows within this land
As rushing storms fly forth to envelope me and you!

As I pray, will you understand my great woe?
Should I run far away, will you too, dare to go?

Robert J. Lindley,
July 12th 1994, ( Why We Know God Exists )

Sir Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall

Singer Sir Mick Jagger
Walks with a swagger
Wriggling snakelike hips
Pouts with big rubbery lips


Texan model Jerry Hall
Is very skinny and tall
Their Bali wedding wasn’t valid
Mick no longer lives on salad!

Clerihew Couples for Valentine's Day Prizes Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire

1/11/19

The Praise Dancers

The Praise Dancers…
In stilled silent
space 
between garnished tables,
the word exploded:  
gyrating motion 
spilled out
here and there;
yet
bare clapping hands
and naked feet
made 
no sound.

Staccato movements 
shot upward
finger waving arms— 
crescendo praises
descending 
bending knees
pulled
bowed heads
to poised reverence.

Sleeping soul spirits
woke 
to thrice toilsome
tried hearts
fluttering with audacious hope;
dancing to the rhythmic notes 
of faith
snakelike Salome sought
to defile. 

With heads held heavenly,
they danced 
before the head of their lives:
the true and ever living God.

For She, This Victory Was Gained- Sonnet Number 2

For She, This Victory Was Gained-  Sonnet number 2


You that loved her for her long, yellow hair,  
I for her grace, charm and brilliant mind.
You left her sick and without a damn care,
while I nursed her to health staying behind.

Nights that you had her wrapped in your lies,
You fooled her with your snakelike charm.
I sat alone trying to break your evil ties,
desperately fighting to defeat your harm.

That summer we battled for her sweet hand.
A contest between your evil and truth's might.
I defeated you utterly with a true moral stand,
And you the rascal fled away in the hot night.

Now we together found exactly what true love is.
Love is "we and ours", happily not,"her and his"!

Robert J. Lindley, 07-26-2015

Note: Very loosely based upon a past experience in the late 70's..

Honeymoon On the Flying Scotsman

With a snakelike hiss, the train doors close
the engine rocks and rumbles on clicking
over welded metal couplings: iced, glazed, froze,
the steam heat in clouds arose, rail licking.
On velvet we sit, lace behind our heads,
stewards bring tea for the clock is ticking. 
High tea at five, we're fed like thoroughbreds
for dinners late (at eight) in formal dress.
A honeymoon for two not quite purebreds.



1/24/15

Here

I see you're still here,
drowning in the ginger beer.
Peeking, pilfiering, scraping the veneer.
Snakelike, with a sneer.
Don't misle that horny steer-
please watch your language, dear.

Uch, why? No.
You silly pyro.
Then you go.
We, as a whole
ceased to grow.

Now back,
heaping flack.
I must have
stepped on a crack.

Forgiveness is a given,
as long as you're livin',
regardless of schism.

You threaten to leave,
wear it on your sleeve.

I see you're still here.

Forget the River

Do you remember the time we worshiped the river?
We would throw our sadness and pain in the water.
Devout sacrifice meant more time, 
more time,
but
there was never enough.

Sacrifice after sacrifice, the river filled with garbage
until its rotting mass, 
snakelike,
constricted our new-born infant Hope.

Now on the new-land I worship only myself.

None

Stories pour from my third eye in an iridescent stream of emerald green light.
CONSCIOUSNESS HAS NO COLOR.
And one day my consciousness will transcend the mere shape of a letter./ The slippery sound 
of a sentence slithering snakelike from the space in between your lips. Trading the velvet 
vocal vibrations of my throat for silence's silken texture.

The Train To Wimbledon

With a snakelike hiss, the tangerine train doors close
and the engine rock-rumbles forward 
clicking over each joined metal coupling.

Long gone are the pristine days of virginity 
and the impassioned rush of slick new parts.
The small sounds of newspaper pages turning, 
and whispered phrases penetrate the antiquarian din.

As an industrial landscaped melds with the
stark spring sunshine through the cars’ graffiti scared glass.
The rigid plasticine interior fills at first stop 
with giggling, rose cheeked girl-children.
Herded in single file to the rear of the car, 
by Moslem matrons wrapped in head scarves.
The girls’ blue-plaid, pleated, school skirts,
dusted the cobalt seats.
Foreign images, our images, reflect 
Dali-like from British eyes of blue, brown, and green, 
an American couple 
on the way to Wimbledon station.

Storm Warning

The gathering storm rattled snakelike over distant hills,
Heads of dust and debris thrown as charcoal relief
To the vast expanse of the sky;
In the drought of reason, heat radiated a stillness,
Diseased and brooding, motionless as fissured statues
Or corpses in their time of desiccation.
The old grudges quickly stirred, their animation jostling with fever,
Until they burst tall and armoured, bloody hands
Raised up to the heavens;
Ceaselessly goading, provoking war dogs, effected
Reprisals in a rain of missiles, for attrition ruled
The stalemate kingdoms with seething deities.
The storm is coming, a travel of increasing ferociousness,
Laying waste to desert blooms and flesh,
And sat upon the pale horse the name is always death.
Towers of toasted glass and white steel,
Market places, schools and homes…and people…
All fair game carrion before such implicit dominion…

Shoot the Moon

I cannot still believe my karma
When all drab hope expired
And with it my faith
In humanity -
We met.

I do not question Fate,
It's snakelike ripcord slither;
I accept whole the dream
For fear it is -
Not real.

I will not court denial,
Kiss belief in this fortune;
The living treasure you bestow
Upon my being -
Breathes exultant.

I know only these things:
Life weeps fluid ephemeral,
And bludgeoned by impairment;
Yet together we may shoot -
The moon.

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