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"Where did she go?
Where is the beast?
Under the boat
Our end draws near"

Unparalleled strength
Pushes through the seas
The rightful owner
Soon will feast

"She pushes through
Tossing us aside
There is no escape, no plan
She bites"

The seas belong to her
Started slow, she wrecks her way
To the top, to the end
The Great White Shark stalks her prey

"Last man standing, this twisted game
There’s no way out, no hope is left
Two choices now, to drown
or to Fall"

To the Queen of the Seas
To a certain special someone
Jordan Gee Oct 3
The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.
post equinox Sep 2020
Tony Tweedy Jul 24
Like a hungry shark has loneliness again come to feed upon my heart and mind.
Ravenous and savage it feeds upon a soul that warmth and love has left behind.
Once again a mind and heart that love avoids is to the darkness lead.
Bloodied, mauled and torn to shreds, remnant carcass left floating dead.
Never sated and without remorse it tears, as it feeds there in the empty dark.
Savagely, ever feeding, ever gnawing, ripping into my souls last hopeful spark.
Hungry, starving, ravenous and in frenzy and seemingly never fully fed.
No worth, no value, adrift, no purpose to any futures' plan but still I am not dead.
Razor teeth intent upon taking every ounce of my last mortal dream and hope.
Until mind is convinced that it's only peace is best found in a loop of sturdy rope.
This is the game that shark and loneliness play so often within my heart and mind.
The shark, the loneliness, love or a length of rope who wins I am still yet to find.
I hate these days when they come... never knowing the duration or if it is the last time.
Shower in my blood

I feel your heat

my simmer

We are far

far from love


But I’m falling

at landing

will there be a pillow?


Crocodiles ****

but you can torture

you have more power

over me than you realize


Power struggle


You always win

because I ******* let you


But I don’t want to let you, anymore

because I’m a ******* shark


I’ll bite your ***** off

and leave your timber.
Pool's Prince Charming
by Michael R. Burch

this is my tribute poem, written on the behalf of his fellow pool sharks, for the legendary Saint Louie Louie Roberts

Louie, Louie, Prince of Pool,
making all the ladies drool ...
Take the “nuts”? I'd be a fool!
Louie, Louie, Prince of Pool.

Louie, Louie, pretty as Elvis,
owner of (ahem) a similar pelvis ...
Compared to you, the books will shelve us.
Louie, Louie, pretty as Elvis.

Louie, Louie, fearless gambler,
ladies' man and constant rambler,
but such a sweet, loquacious ambler!
Louie, Louie, fearless gambler.

Louie, Louie, angelic, chthonic,
pool's charming hero, but tragic, Byronic,
winning the Open drinking gin and tonic?
Louie, Louie, angelic, chthonic.

NOTE: If you like my tribute you are welcome to share it, but please credit me as the author, which you can do by copying the title and subheading. I used poetic license about what Louie Roberts was or wasn't drinking at the 1981 U. S. Open Nine-Ball Championship. Was Louie drinking hard liquor as he came charging back through the losers' bracket to win the whole shebang? Or was he just pretending to drink for gamesmanship or some other reason? I honestly don't know. As for the word “chthonic,” it’s pronounced “thonic” and means “subterranean” or “of the underworld.” And the pool world at its worst can be very dark indeed, as Louie’s tragic demise suggests. But everyone who knew Louie seemed to like him, if not love him dearly, and many sharks have spoken of Louie in glowing terms, as a bringer of light to that underworld. Keywords/Tags: pool, shark, billiards, nine ball, Saint Louie Roberts, gambler, hustler
My eyes are open but all I can see is the dark
swimming around me like a bloodthirsty shark
its body heartless, its mouth endless
its entire existence without purpose
I'm frozen in fear, utterly speechless
it has a hold of me
I'm slowly losing my sanity
I try to break free but everything is hazy
it's all around me and begins consuming me
now I'm nothing more
then a memory.
Created by me on January 7th, 2020
Carlo C Gomez Jan 10
Backstroking
into a midnight snack.

That's some bad hat, Harry!

See the sign with the fishy graffiti?

It's supposed to be scary.

Come one, come all
on the fourth of July!

Put your kid on a raft
and watch him liquefy.

Then sail the high seas
with Captain Ahab.

Three men in a tub.

Too far out to hail a cab.

Guess we'll see who ends up grub...
A M Ryder Dec 2019
There are two kinds of people
Sharks and
sheep

Sharks are winners
They never look back
Because they have no necks

Necks are for sheep
Kamau Brathwaite wrote
That "the hurricane doesn't roar in pentameters"
And I really believed it could be true
That Caribbean hurricanes had their own cadences, their own dances :
Ida was reggae, Allen was merengue Brigitte was gwoka
David was cha cha cha and Edith was kadans rampa and Dorian calypso
All dactyls hatched instead of iambic pentameters
Out of each island Zeus 's head
Until i met the still eye of Hurricane Muse.

Muse was her nickname
Her real name was Shar
Named after shark and share and shear
and sharon,
Named after a calypso rose
Fearless except for lizards, a rose of  tiny thorns
With a taste of a stormy black coffee
Born to a dragon of Jade and a   white *** tigress
In the midst of the 1961
hurricane season.
Shar has the S of Sébastien Sally Sam Shary Sean and Sara
The H of Humberto Hanna Henri Hermine Harold and Hélène
The A of Andrea Arthur Ana Alex Arlene and Alberto
And the R of  Rebecca René Rose Richard Rina and Rafael
And she dances not only calypso
And quadrille and zouk
But a mix as well of Salsa Hustle Affranchi and Reggae
In iambic pentameters
While she gently paints fearless green lizards
Having her five iambs of coffee
First thing in the unstressed and stressed morning
Before she even opens the syllables of her still Muse eye.
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