Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Deneka Raquel Oct 2014
A thousand love poems yoking to pages you will never read.
Though some have slipped from my reach,
Seeking refuge from the muse, responsible for their existence.
L is for lion.
And is what you are.
Torment
You screamed, so I cried.
You were mad, so I was sad.
You were upset, so I was confused.
You were yelling, so I walked away.

You were laying there in your own world.
Not a care in your mind about what I was doing.
I doubt you would have noticed me walking out the door.
I knew better than to leave, I knew I might not make it back.

You know I love you to the moon and back.
I would never leave you in order to live another life.
My life with you is all I ever wanted in life.
You just seemed to shove me out that day.
No you never laid a hand on me, but you didn't have to.

I knew my time was expiring standing in that room.
I slowly turned to walk out, and then I was stuck.
I sat in the corner of my papa's old room.
My head rest on the wall and my knees were in my chest.

All I could think of was the pain that was deep inside.
I felt as if a lion was trapped and could not get out.
I fell emotionless and began to search.
I'm not quite sure what it was that I even had in my hands.

The next thing that I knew I was searching for something new.
My breathe, I couldn't catch it.
It was like something had taken control of me now.
Whatever it was that I had picked up, it was trapped now.
Trapped around my neck.

Quickly I found this to be alarming and I snapped.
I found the object that the monster created then laying on the floor.
My fist were tight and blood shot red.'
I hope that filing cabinet had no feelings that I could of hurt.

All I know is this.
My guardian angel, he was in that room.
My tattoo glared at me to quit.
My eyes full of tears.
How could I ever leave you in this cold world.
Even if you hated me, I wouldn't stray to far.
Anthony Williams Oct 2014
You strayed independent across my unlaid path
impressing me with a hideaway around the thistles
where inlay thigh flints spark like butterfly wings
fused to outstretched but still flimsy present glinting
loose eyes a smoky incense close to gleam igniting
potent tinder sax on a beneficent Burns' night portent
whispering wick lit slivers of be live next to me glen scent
fluttering and roaming through saliva kissed gloaming
a light shaved window opening a misty eyed gap
opportune as a mysterious space between maps

crossed with aye formations and melted highlands
I slide into a bonnie loch when you return my glance
smooth as a swan stroking shallow into deep meeters
the swirl of bagpipes barely rippling the surface meters

a proud union betwixt us found expression
unflagging love notes ** streamed passion
red into sky blue twitchy nerves lend fingers
fondling unfurled clouds into catchy dance rings
retracing steps into tempestuous hearts I rose
so dryads can black watch temptation intertwine
painted inside as I woad your Pictish tartan

only now the pedestal wobbles a little
but you don't fall to my arms
brave destiny's turn is fickle
and straight on without being toppled
you hesitate but give no nod to lead
no quick look behind you as I hoped
shying awry to continue walking
the hot moment runs past cold
safe as before inhibitions land
like icicles on my fanciful back

upstanding Meissen men often talk
of perfection showing no cracks
and chuckled as they left their mark
in crossed swords kilned with clay ores
giving a porcelain lion soft pause
for thought about a heart out clause
and about lifting any kilt or unstuck thought
to keep established ruling embarrassment
but is that parley risking nought?
the mane's trimmed short
too correct to tip the hat
to a potential welcome
down falls harassment
south of the borderline
sad that no one can put
that man lass
yes
moment together again
but ever slow drifting apart
the dream mist
goes on
by Anthony Williams
Skypath Sep 2014
You have the soul of a lion
Buried deep beneath lessons
Of inferiority and knowing your place
They've told you where you belong
How you're meant to be
But they're wrong

Deep inside you is a predator
Itching for you to see
See the fire in your eyes
Or feel the sharpness of your teeth and tongue
You may not have the mane you want
But you have a mane of fire
Burning from your soul
Pushing free from your skin

No man can stand a lion
You are more powerful than your body
More important than their words
You're the king of the Savannah
And the king of your heart
All you need to do
Is find your roar
This is very subtly transgender themed but yea thats what its technically about
a lion out of the plains would be sick
walking tall in a marsh
with mud in his pretty mane?
no i don't think so.
fighter in the wrong land
fury in the wrong fist
turned inwards instead of to the wildebeest
cloven hooves at his ***
instead of teeth at their throats
proud proud lion
never be a gangster here
pull up that saggy skin and face the facts
you're in the wrong town now, kitten
more about me feeling wholly  out of place, though this one is delivered  with a more upbeat tone.
Harley Hucof Aug 2014
In the jungle lived three lions
Their father had just died
they were sitting trying to decied who should take the crown

The three lions were wise
But only one will have the royal life

The eldest said :
My brothers with great grief i bid our father's fairwell
But its time for me to be king
Im the older and the most powerfull between you two
This kingdom cant survive if i dont rule

The younger lion replied :
my brother its true that your strong and old
But i am the smartest between you both
Leave the crown for me and i shall take care of your needs

The third lion said :
All you too have said is true
But i am the most beautifull lion between you too
All the animals in this jungle respect me
And i was the favorite for daddy's
No other lion is more courageous than me
So i think i should be king

The three lions couldnt agree
They started to fight violentley
The older lion ended up winning the fight

He looked down onto his brothers dead on the ground
He couldnt believe what he had done
What would his father think of him now?
He surely didnt deserve to be a king
Feeling miserable he walked away cursing his greed

He would leave forever and never come back leaving his father's land

A kingdom without a king...

Words Of Harfouchism
Solaces Aug 2014
land of eternal light..
she walks with me into the glow meadows..
i tell her to close her eyes..
i run down the hill and bring her a shadelion..
we both make a wish and blow the dusk pedals into the shine..
In a world made of light darkness can be beautiful
Adam Childs Aug 2014
As the glorious LION
Stands strong in stature
Radiating with a presence
Of Absolute rule
The air washed with
A bristly respect
A natural pride
Beams with  beauty
He guards the gateway to truth
and only the brave may enter
He is the king that needs no crown
as he holds a royal presence as he
sits in his golden coat and main
Lies spark combust just bounce off
dissolve in all his shine.  

As broken men become renewed
Their fractured parts
Collect in the melting ***
Of the Lion's  stare
As they are engulfed and swallowed
In the reservoirs of his strength
As the many wounded souls
Find themselves restored
In his majestic presence
As he rattles the very fabric
Of this world

There is no procrastinating belly
Exposed by a lackluster display
No one insults his strength
By creating a make believe world
Or covers him with scaffolding so
That they may alter him
For he is the finished article
And he is never held up or supported
With anyone's emotional ropes or strings
For he no ones puppet
He is never silenced
By the Strangle hold of this world
Tightened with a multitude of gestures
For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!!
His explosive self expression
As his throat bursts and beams like the sun
Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed
As a thousand trap doors Open up in him  
And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered
within the sound of his voice.
His Soft pads of silent stealth
Gather for all his wealth
As the power of his pounce
Is governed by both his strength
Of spirit and the honesty
With which he meets the earth
For he owns all of his own pain
And paces and growls to warn
Away any who seek to steal his fresh ****
And diminish him with pretty lies
For he owns all his space
As it feeds his strength
As somewhere in the fury of feasting
Lionesses and Lions  
We find our freedom
For his power explodes like a volcano
When his soul meets the earth  
As he shakes off all avoidance
To seek only truth
As streaks of white light
And pure Gold glisten in the SUN
As the world's projections
Reflect and bounce off him

There is so much to learn
From a beautiful LION
just decided to take my two poems about a LION and remove all the dead wood and see what I came up with . not sure but I love some of the lines individually
mark john junor Jul 2014
consequence has no face
but he has a voice
speaks so loudly in the lives of the unwary
i can hear him now talking like misery in the
background of her eyes
her loves are empty
her love will only last till the sun has ground down
the lion of your beautiful moments
look at his once proud mane matted with
the dusts of your life of compromise
its consequences handiwork illustrated in sorrowful colors
a lover of the feelin fleeting and vain
a stealer of the better things
a child of her consequences
bitter is her joys
in her sour smiles
Next page