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Lick me
like an ice cream cone
Catch
my dribbled form
with your tongue

Bite
into my bones
Hear
that satisfying crunch

Savor
my sweetness
****
the sticky taste
from your fingers

Devour me,
your prey
Leigh May 2015
The story of a tiny gift, half chewed and fear-stained
Left on the alter outside the back door:

When first stunned with a slap or a precisely timed
Bite, a vigil is held -- wings twitch and flutter.
With a curious tilt, widened eyes record
Muscle spasms; calculating the
Flight risk; metering the force of the next
Outburst; prolonging the fun.

A game or performance art?
The victim's peers yell and screech
From the rooftops - do they know
The show is for them?

After few manoeuvres more it matters little
As a tiny neck snaps between missing teeth.
The audience scatters and the corpse is left behind
As an offering for those who feed the beast.
.

The joys of owning a cat.
.
Elisa Holly May 2015
Don't make me miss you.
I am sorry I am a ******* idiot.
Famous last words.
After the fight,
You know what gets me
And provide me a line to catch
When you just need to be released.

A slippery fish flapping through my fingers,
I let go.
After all there are plenty of fish in the sea,
And seldom do prey miss their predator.
Bree Anna Apr 2015
I am but only a lowly feather
Drifting through life, caught by the wind
Searching for love
That simple affection

I am but a dove
Fragile and weak
Softhearted, kind spirit
One day it will be seen

I am but a swan
Graceful and sweet
I give it my all
My every heart beat

I am but a hummingbird
Large heart beats fast
Looking for love
To numb the pain of the past

He was but only a lonely human
Drifting through life, caught by the lust
Searching for games
Girls to play

He was but a wolf
Looking for sheep
Preying on innocence
Until he would bite too deep

He was but a bear
Liked to eat
Would ask them to cook
So he could sleep

He was but a chameleon
Blending in with each
Making them feel safe
Like the connection was deep

He was but a lion
I was but a lamb
I fell in love with the lion
He fell in love with the lamb
But he bit me
And as I bled
He couldn’t believe what he had did
I confessed my love
He didn’t walk away
But after I died
He found his new game
I need advice, constructive criticism, revisions, and help to perfect this poem. :)
Kitts Apr 2015
Light weight, black glossy, perfection
You must hold such a weapon with confidence
Slender black arrows with green feathers
Bundled in the fine homemade black leather quiver
The silver steel tips made to ****
Sunlight playing peak a boo
With the shadows all around you
The ancient trees look down upon you
The wind picks up and gently plays with your hair
You breathe in the familiar smell
Of the ancient forest you call home
You haven't caught an a-wi in days
What will the hungry little ones do?
You see a flash of movement and you freeze
Draw a single arrow from the quiver on your back
Without a sound you take your position
Silently with practiced ease you aim and fire
You hear the death cry of the animal you have shot
Swiftly you run to were the cry came
There lays the plumpest most beautiful a-wi you have seen in moons
Thanking the a-wi with the words you were taught as a child
"Thank you dear sister/brother for giving your life so that my family could continue to live theirs"
With the sacred whisper you end the a-wi's pain with a quick slice from your blade
Smiling and whispering you’re thanks to the Great Spirit
You run as fast as you can to get the villages warrior braves
You are small but you are part of the Tsa-la-gi
Therefore you are never alone
Kitts Apr 2015
My hunger grows day after day
All boys should stay far away
Or I'll rip open their chest;
Take their heart and leave the rest
Even though I hunger and thirst for love
I am but a raven acting like a dove
For behind this oh so,"pretty," mask
Is a monster who has only one task
To rip open, break apart and devour
The hearts of boys who do not cower
For where my own heart once did beat
Lies that which several boys did defeat
And though the pieces lay true to form
My broken pieces will never again reform
I am the one monster, the only blue beast
On which little boys hearts, loves to feast
I sound and look like a victim:You are the prey
But the prey never listens to what predators say
I long for someone to break the spell, this curse...
  
  
  
But Who Could Ever Love A Beast?
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015
Green mantis worships
Lively bugs skipping on pond
Fish parting waters
Lindy Feb 2015
No laughs and no apologies
The door was left ajar
“You may assist yourself at the mezzanine.”
girls cascade as men pose
strategically
in shark skin suits
like swimming tessellations
corners fit against corners
bait fish schools
Moving in murmurations
No one ever looks up
at the ocean top glass ceiling
Their eyes are aimed downwards
waiting to see a massive shadow rising up
from the sea floor
No one knows what goes on down there
down where the sand is so cold,
where the flesh of the bait fish drift and
the ***** pick at remnants on whale bones.
1
We're not in darkest Africa
and jungles don't adorn,
this little bit of overgrown
that wraps around our lawn,

2
Plants of pretty colors
sit comfortable in there bed,
and about two dozen footsteps
find us at the potting shed.

3
Our potting shed has seen better days,
some parts have been rebuilt
and it's suffering from subsidence
for it's slightly on a tilt.

4
The walls desperately need painting
because the wood has got some rot
but a boring place to come and sit
it definitely is not.

5
Odds and ends adorn the shelves
and the places spiders tread
where the dust has piled on the weight
and the woodworm may have spread.

6
Smells that we first come across
carry the scent of damp,
foul stinks from half empty sacks,
paint tins that have gone rank.

7
An old oil lamp expel the rust
like dandruff from my head
reigning down golden crumbs
that looks like toasted bread.

8
We think that we have found some proof
of what might linger around
footprints so large and evident
that a Tigers walked upon this ground.

9
So while we have been sleeping
and resting through the night
there's been a Tiger in our shed
but he keeps out of sight.

10
We've sorted through many boxes
we've moved some things aside,
looked into shadows with a torch
but we can't find where he hides.

11
Perhaps he's gone out hunting
for an evening meal,
eyeing up the neighbors dog
with energetic zeal.

12
Perhaps he's out sunbathing,
sitting somewhere in a tree
camouflaged with all those stripes,
that's the reason we can't see.

13
I don't know if he's Sumatran,
Siberian or Bengal
and he doesn't ever show himself
or come to me when I call.

14
I believe he stays outside all day
and only hides in here at night
but I won't come down here when its dark
only in the light.

15
He is a wild animal so
one must take the some care
for he could be stalking us as prey
he could spring from anywhere.

16
But we leave the door unlocked for him
and we've made a comfy bed,
and a sign that just reads "WELCOME"
to the Tiger in our shed
19th December 2014

edited on 04/01/17
Don't Exist Nov 2014
Like a Flower
It blooms at night
With its preying eyes it awaits its next victim
and when the victim appears
does it finally turn to ashes
A simple poem
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