Stealthily Poems | Examples

Dear Girl I've Never Met

Dear girl I’ve never met,

Whether it’ll be planned or not, you’ll always be

in my thoughts.

Crazy romantic, chilled and laid-back — I hope it

will go well.

I’ll try my best to make you happy — I’ll call the

shots.

We’re gonna be singing, laughing, crying — I can

tell.



Dear girl I’ve never met,

Every time I close my eyes, I start to think of you,

and everything we could do.

We could kiss and dance in the rain, just live in

the moment.



Dear girl I’ve never met,

We could go on a car trip and just sing our

hearts out — or I’ll serenade you

just to make you smile, ‘cause you own it.

We could just go crazy and do something

stupid — whatever it may be, that’s the main

proponent.



Dear girl I’ve never met,

I’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and

healthy.

If something’s wrong, just express it all to me.

I’ll always do my best, even though I might not

be wealthy.

I just hope when we meet you’ll see what I see —

a beautiful girl who’s worth anything,

and captured my heart so stealthily.

Stranger in the Attic

Silently, stealthily, slowly
He strolled with great care
So as to avoid the floorboard
That would squeak 
And seal his fate

Smiling, sweating, successful
He slid past the enemy
That could terminate
The solace he sought
And savored

Sulking, seething, sitting
He swallowed day old soup
And dreamt of caviar
That could soothe his craving
And his sanity

Softly, safely, soberly
He slipped into serenity
Without a struggle
Into the shelter of eternity
And secrets

ECHOES OF THE LAKE

Trumpet-like lilies by the lake
preen for the flamboyant flamingo,
sifting through the murky waters,
searching for algae and shrimp
where crawdads click and clatter.

While silvery fish glide stealthily
leaving barely a ripple behind,
a chorus of frogs’ croaks
echo like the whining twang
of a plucked banjo string.

Dragonflies skim the water’s surface
as their translucent wings shimmer
like gems in the sunlight,
dart about the amaranth lilies
waltzing in the summertime breeze.

Serpentine Narcissus

My mind hibernates in the void of cavernous complexity,
wakes up in the sensual seasons of mystique living.
The wild psyche forms a sleek and sly unique entity,
as with whisper of intent hiss, dances the reptilian feeling. 

Within the deep cold layers many ancient secrets hide,
the sinuous slither of the silent senses can’t find.
Coiled in still shadows of the verdant world outside,
the echo of hostile footsteps is left to fade behind.       

   A prisoner under the disposable skin of own pedigree,               
with an animated grace of fear in introvert isolation,
I see all the frightened faces flee from me,
as I trace my tortuous path in the web of ardent adulation. 

In self-adoration, as a symbol of style steeped in serenity, 
I see in me a serpentine Narcissus lonely lurk.
Metamorphosed stealthily from an obsessive entity,
it holds the threads of life, waits insulated in the dark.

2:55

Five vials of hope before 2:55,
An epinephrine Saturday feast
After midday, preventing time to arrive
Again, to stall the curse at least.

The single drop of tear tells it all,
I guess I've seen it coming.
And it did, but very stealthily, the fall
Disguised in serene eyes staring.

Broken voices of 2:55 and hence
A glass of water, a pat on the shoulder,
Paper works, the waiting, querying the sense
Reduced to an atheist's prayer.

The chaos ceased, all quiet on the front. 
The war is lost; not a dream did survive.
Life is a poem that is so blunt,
All gone, after midday at 2:55.

Swimming In Grief

When the sodden vision lurks in the dark depth to see
the trace of soul’s insignia at the bottom of tranquil sea,
I fail to discern where the solemn stream I cry flows to lie
beyond the edge of the marooned mind until it’s dry.

The mangled mind swirls in the whirlpool of sorrow,
like the curling cloud clump the winding winds of despair blow 
across the melancholic sky, turning grey from blue,
where with my broken wings I can’t fly any more with you.

The sunburst horizon fails to glint the frail face of gloom,
in wilted plants of my wasteland the buds don’t bloom.
Their dormant scent like your love wanders in my heart,
for I’ve lost you to destiny, my soul has been split apart.

You drift away in splitting storm under the falling sky, 
the tormenting thunder breaks asunder my life wry.
As the silent pain the shards of broken heart amplify,
I hear the dry buds stealthily shriek the wounded sigh. 

The sad tune of the agonizing whisper I hear echo within,
takes me to the debris of happy times we’ve together seen.
My heart turns into a leaf, falling from the longing tree,
swimming in the river of grief, flowing to the morose sea.

Halloween Hangover

Unsettling it was
came from where
I did not know,
the jagged claw upon 
my chamber floor

so near the cot
where I nightly lay,
have dreamed so snug
feeling quite secure,

sharpest at the edges

capable of tearing flesh
and bone, my innards
deep

how could this hideous
thing unbeknownst stealthily 
creep -- 

perhaps always near
I shuddered to think

somewhere attached to
my spirit long ago -- a
thought too repugnant 
I did not want to hear it

from my troubled mind
hastened I to clear it

hungrily latched-on to my
soul, I prayed desperately
to be free of it

confronting my 
original abomination --

I Knew I would Die Here

The three hooded beings came stealthily, silently, secretively.
The cobblestones gave nothing away as they sneaked past a few.
I saw them, and wondered, but did not realize they were heading for me.
It was too late to run, and my weapons were nowhere in sight.
I thought I could take the one on the left
But the sword-carrier would no doubt run me through if I did.
The one in the middle looked the most dangerous; for he held two swords.

One of them began to laugh.
The sound was chilling; my muscles tensed.
Cornered, I knew I would die here.
Don’t you recognize me, Sister?
It was my twin and her odd friends, having fun.
She had never seemed more dangerous which is saying a lot.
For she has always been diabolical and mean.
I knew then I was in sincere danger.

Polar Bear Tale

Polar bear chased Joe into a cave
Already there was a princess and knave
They waited until the big gal went to sleep
Then stealthily stole away with nary a peep

polar bear here
polar bear there
she gave us a scare,
she gave us a scare

Polar bear slumbered cozily away
As they climbed out of her cave that day
Hibernating now, the three told all who would listen
Staying away from that frozen cave that gave a glisten

polar bear here
polar bear there
she gave us a scare,
she gave us a scare


Feeling lucky they had survived the bear’s hungry ways
They all told the story from then until the end of their days
A princess, knave, and a regular guy named Joe.
Who still tell the tale down in Kokomo.

polar bear here
polar bear there
she gave us a scare,
she gave us a scare

Ephemeral

Ephemeral

There's a lot inside me,
A thing that dies every night,
Every dusk that I lay on my bed,
Close my eyes, and sleep.

I feel a part slip away, stealthily,
I do not know where it goes,
But it never comes back.

It digs a tunnel inside,
A void that's never filled,
Only occupied by
Vengeance, hatred, and lies.

My heart is in knots,
I'm lost, and can't untangle.

Things I longed to see
left me drowning in a sea
--an ocean of tears
where I can't swim 

my limbs are too short
 much like a shrimp 

i find solace in the sunrise 
and mend my heart 
with poetry from the ancient quill
where meaning to love 
is explicated in depth 

© MZEE MACH 
_27th Nov, 2024

Invasion

Paratroopers stealthily slide unnoticed,
chutes deployed, small blazes of white obscured by
fog that lingers lazily, til their numbers
    cover the meadow…

Faster, faster, not just content to cover,
reinforcements filling in, words unspoken,
synchronized with perfect precision, ever
    picking up tempo…

Occupation utterly overwhelming,
swamped defenses, raising a flag, surrender.
Long, the arm of conquering winter, brings a
    lengthening shadow…

Living death

From the foots 
of the tall buildings
many living dead 
are coming up wobbling.

Stealthily,the living dead
are peeping inside
from the windows of the houses
of poor families.

of feral thought

I wander through a minefield
Of feral thought
Ever alert
For the slightest hint
Of hidden prey
Trembling thoughts
Shamed in their youth
Cowering
Beneath dried roots
A shadow
Out of sync with the sun
Daring to peek elsewhere
A flower leaning into the wind
Refusing to yield
A defiant tumble weed
Standing its ground
Stealthily, I tease them
Into an awareness
Of now
Invite them to share
With me
Their secrets
Not in an attempt
To domesticate them
But to learn to cherish
Their tenacity and strength
Their belief in themselves
Offer to share them
Without exposing their whereabouts
To honor the sanctity of their choice.

Nightbound

~ NIGHTBOUND ~


If only a singular, delightful wish had I,
It would be to see a moonlit, star-studded sky.
When this frenzied world is asleep and still.
Just the sound of fish, splashing in a pond on the moonlit hill.
When not a soul is running to and fro,
With news of the day, so very negative, bro!

I simply cannot take anymore prophets of doom. 
As I prefer drifting in poetic reverie in my candle scented
bedroom.
To recall perchance, in a candle lit, dreamlike state,
Nights of sensiuos wonder, with my cherished soulmate.
The intoxicating aroma of cherry blossoms in a
another place.Clouds stealthily have re-created your chiseled face!

Days of boundless joy, I will always treasure.
Of each second, so blessed, measure for measure
Blessed me to live, not be like the dead! 
The joyous, endless seconds in the years ahead.
Not rushed, penning more thoughts in a room full of roses, 
Sinply, preaceful, intoxicating shades of deepest red!



7/6/2024

Crocodiles, the living fossils

A mighty ancient predator a reptilian that’s highly feared, 
distinct among its peers deserves to be revered.

Basking on river banks seeking the sun’s warmth, 
but when it comes to mating it’s best in thunderstorms.

Crocs are deadly hunters that feed on every prey, 
in swamps and muddy waters they live and like to stay. 

They stealthily move in silence and engulf or seize their prey, 
they spin their bodies to tear apart the flesh of game they slay.

Crocs are opportunistic feeders, 
in darkness can find their way, 
with the smell of blood and taste of meat they like to start their day.

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