"amazons" poems
♪♫♪♪
Your beaded snakeskin loincloth
strung beneath humid palms
cool rippling breeze that calms
our hammock hung under thatch
what a catch . . .
your Amazons running into my Congo
lost track of my bongo
back about one mile
from the sources of the Nile:
your jungle smile.
Restoring all celestial things
deep within your tropical clearings . . .
flowing slowly, going loco
at the mythic mouth of the Orinico;
shake your nut-brown biospheres
and banish all my worldly fears.
Dusk is nearing — clearing the hill
insects trilling a sinuous thrill;
the yuca half-mashed in the clay ***
the witch doctor hungover in his hut
while our little fire smolders
near the mountains of the moon
—or are they only boulders?
Come soon
Jesus, Lord of the Jungle . . .
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
The Amazons fractured her skull
while he was busy
introducing himself, with a handshake
and a teapot:
'Good Morning!'
A tuneless whistle,
an anthem from nowhere
falls on deaf ears,
eyes faded to pastel
like a warning poster
after twenty copies
and acid rain.
Not an episode from real life
just an ivory circus,
the sport of savagery
Tired.
At an end.
It wouldn't happen in Blighty.
A dark heartbeat,
a steady drum
The pen is mightier than the spear,
blotted shapes in the rushes
Inert, unheard
No time for farewells
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 6:02 PM UTC
Hear ye my statute, men of Attica--
Ye who of bloodshed judge this primal cause;
Yea, and in future age shall Aegeus's host
Revere this court of jurors. This the hill
Of Ares, seat of Amazons, their tent,
What time 'gainst Theseus, breathing hate, they came,
Waging fierce battle, and their towers upreared,
A counter-fortress to Acropolis;--
To Ares they did sacrifice, and hence
This rock is titled Areopagus.
Here then shall sacred Awe, to Fear allied,
By day and night my lieges hold from wrong,
Save if themselves do innovate my laws,
If thou with mud, or influx base, bedim
The sparkling water, nought thou'lt find to drink.
Nor Anarchy, nor Tyrant's lawless rule
Commend I to my people's reverence;--
Nor let them banish from their city Fear;
For who 'mong men, uncurbed by fear, is just?
Thus holding Awe in seemly reverence,
A bulwark for your State shall ye possess,
A safeguard to protect your city walls,
Such as no mortals otherwhere can boast,
Neither in Scythia, nor in Pelops's realm.
Behold! This Court august, untouched by bribes,
Sharp to avenge, wakeful for those who sleep,
Establish I, a bulwark to this land.
This charge, extending to all future time,
I give my lieges. Meet it as ye rise,
Assume the pebbles, and decide the cause,
Your oath revering. All hath now been said.
3.6k
The pretty lass
moved fawn-like
behind the counter,
her thin flowered sun dress
grasped her sleek-form
so delicately,
grinning behind glasses,
she mesmerized me
completely.
A bit sassy,
with an
air of confidence,
her craft spoke volumes.
She had
a keen eye for detail,
her quality
was impeccable,
burnished ancient coins,
Apollo & Diana the huntress
hung near iridescent colors,
Macaws & Amazons
blazed their vibrant hues.
She sold me Roman glass
wrapped in Sterling,
handcrafted by
her beautiful hands.
If she only knew
how much
it truly touched me.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
The lads
Are streaming ****
Don't be too quick
To scorn;
To understand my monologue
Know Sears stopped publishing
Catalogues
Of women in their ******
And Geographic
No longer shoots
******* Amazons.
I don't claim it's right,
But boys are boys,
Night follows night.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
Charge forth into Dis-topi
Ah, City of Kanye-esque antics and Oxford commas looking for lovers
Bliss-ful dive and conquer in Shakespearean soliloquies thus
Learned to romance on the breast of Juliet and *** ******** despite plaque
Toe the line, Lady Macbeth, let your murderous rhythm sing harmonic
Matthew 18 rendition on the dias of Gatsby, 1920
Thousand and fifteen we still age inappropriate
Lee, Spike jump rage against God Hates **** yet black lives live without crack
******* Kublai Khan to the sanctified Amazons.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
Like old
mean beetles,
like old
men in battle,
like egos: solid anvils,
like families: lethal weapons,
like these: them,
begotten sons
who begat daughters
of a land, of a bordered plot
on the globe, the dirt,
the house, the property
which begot
them
both,
these two
bitter enemies
from two
separate places,
furiously blaze,
as the time
for darkness,
is far
from arrived.
And the sun
quakes,
in its heat
rippling sights
and
knocking particles,
which deter the next
knocked,
and which enforce
the continued sensation of
warmth
continued,
of aversion
continued,
rising,
screened,
for its impeccable quality,
against
nobody in
general or
specific
to announce, or to gain
against
consequences, which are
soothsaid
in time,
nullified.
Partners afflicted will be less opportunistic
and more egalitarian,
but are sworn,
like the sun,
against the monotony,
of repetition,
of indistinct days;
like these:
them,
the enemies,
they
are
engaged,
aged,
unteachable
and
spoiled.
They are always
immersed
in
vexed
states,
always in competition.
Hope
is
the
souls
united
never again
as much
as the static,
single dimension,
alone,
impeccable,
impossible,
for its possibility
is drawn by He
who
spews forth
lumens
next to card sharks and Amazons, knowing these
will have to suffice, having no escape
from the projected
source
of energy.
The metal heads
of garden rakes,
weapons
thrown
at devils
in the sweltering heat
of hell,
the Inferno
that holds a
first-person
point of view,
a dream, alongside
superheroes, allied,
but who are,
nevertheless,
without their unique
and exceptional powers,
pros and willing deviants
from the celibacy,
the weight,
the unoriginal paint
that collides
in
each
stroke,
making what
appears
null,
and the array
but one,
and supposed,
so that then
are the weary
and soulful mergers
which corrupt
and meander throughout,
polluting,
as
it
were,
the tranquility,
the wrenched service,
of the destined
machine,
of a million
trajectories,
homespun threads,
woven
into
a
million
miserable
microfibers,
unanswered
queries
that were
held back
in
fear,
and
were
never
asked,
and remain
even
now
sorry.
Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 7:49 AM UTC
Don't listen to me, I'm a copy too
I'm nothing that should be considered original
I'm nothing worth building a statue over
I'm nothing that can't be replaced
If I get hit by a bus
Just pull someone else of the street
Put them in my clothes
You'll hardly notice the difference
I think my parents will like someone they won't have to feel guilty towards
They ******* me up
They know it, too
My brother'll like someone that's not trying to put him down all the time
I'm still in the process of ******** him up
He knows it, too
You could all just throw my dead, stinking, toxic body in the back
Feed me to the dogs
Let's mosey in the other extreme, let's say I'm unique
Or you are
They won't let us be different
If the commonwealth start listening
They'll **** us
Out of fear
What else they can do?
If we threaten them with consciousness among the masses
We got to go
It's nothing personal
I'll never have a Swan Song day
I'll never have a woman that I love
I'll never get to die peaceful in bed
I won't get to see the kids I never had grow up
But I'll have the benefit of having the memory of a fresh life
Doesn't sound like we have much of a choice, does it?
Conform, jump through the hoops, sell our soul, give yourself up
Or you live your life not giving in
And they decide you can't stick around
You're given the people funny ideas
I'm sure they'll **** you or me
If we're too free
They already got rid of Bobby, John and Martin
I guess that's why Jerome went into hiding
He gave too much hope and courage to people
You can either rot from the inside
Or you die young
Because, maybe one way or another they get you
I like to believe they don't though
Imagine this, as you lay bleeding from the three holes in your chest
With that last word of hope or love or divinity or whatever you want to call it on your lips
You sit and you think
It was all worth it
I don't regret anything
Because
Unlike them
I can still taste her lips
Unlike them
I can still hear the music
Unlike them
I can still see the endless fields of rye, the forests, the amazons, the rivers, the mountains
Unlike them
My eyes still smile
Unlike them
I laugh
Unlike them
I dance to my own music
And as the blood that retains it's anima leaves my veins
I smile
Because I'm not like them
And I realize
So I'm grateful
And I notice
All the little scared people look so cute in their mislead, unshaped, self-righteous indignation
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 1:15 PM UTC
Wittled stuck One
to Coyote Dingus
wind talks money all day and night
from all directions
but am allowed only to listen
Emotional cocooning
addictive sweet synth sup
as ready as can be
Reshaping wounded amazons
Is no easy task.
Thank you.
Now please pull your head out
before we all starve to death
from this confusing lack of true love
a swan, perhaps?
no, a turtle, one of nine
i see
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
God has always come
Back a woman.
Long before
there was a Jesus,
Eve stood in a Garden
And tried to correct
Her brother's sin;
She was Lilith then.
She packed her bags,
And strolled off to
the mountains to be
with whomever she
So chose; She left
God and Adam to
Figure it out:
The lie the would tell;
The creature they would
Blame;
The clothes.
Yes, God has come
Back multiple times,
And in multiple screaming,
Female forms..
She came back as
All the Dahomey
Women, The Amazons,
Salem Witches, Big Mommas
Abuelas
And midwives.
God has. Had an endless
Universe of
lives.
She even came back a
a little Jewish girl;
Stowed away in an attic
During the Holocaust.
In India she came as
Phulan. In Africa
She came as Winnie,
In Argentina, Chadron.
While men may name
their legends, myths
and fables, just as
Adam did.
God has.never.had
Names and titles
In mind;
Every time a girl
takes a breath she is
reborn, she is there
Carrying revolutions
In her silences and
eternity in her hair.
She will come back
A fire next time.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
I numbly watch a foreign man
on the train.
He talks across the car to some
New Yorkers who half listen to him
whilst simultaneously eavesdropping
on two Amazonian Jews having an argument:
one claims injustice.
The train crawls on its old, screeching belly.
Molasses moves faster in January,
but it is January and I feel like molasses
I guess the city reflects my thoughts...
The Amazons are now passive aggressive,
I duck my head so they don't know I've listened to the laundry list
of a tell tale sign of exhaustion.
Fatigued, I memorize the line of the page of my empty journal.
Wishing,
Willing
Them to fill with a lively recognizable speed of change.
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
As she adjusted her bra strap,
I noticed my lust.
Blindingly sevidical, but as brief as a wrap,
To control, to control, let it fall to the dust.
I wished for many a time
Merely to speak, to flow, allow my thoughts to congeal.
Alas, it was faulty; only amounting to my sacral slime.
I should realise, fortify the need for reckless zeal.
Claim envy. Jealousy. Angst.
A coward. A loser. A failure.
For sure, for sure. It appears it canst.
Only to seek, touch, comprehend your allure.
Sirens and succubi hold no claim.
Vixens and Amazons wither in your light.
Incorporate: Intelligence. Ineffectual. Insane.
For you lasted longer than any mere sight.
They will ask me, one day
How I allowed the fissure to exist.
Fall. Fall. At the bottom you lay.
I will respond, “It was my cowardice I kissed”
Dec 12, 2010
Dec 12, 2010 at 11:01 PM UTC
In the complex molecules of our brain cells
All this ado about the anatomy and structure
There is something unseen
Something that scientist can’t measure
It lies within the piece of literature we read
It breathes through the beauty of the Amazons we visit
It doesn’t have a name
It is the dream that I secretly dream
Silently and alone
At night when it’s deadly quiet
When the shooting stars sparks and falls
A dream to become
An Artist
A Writer
A Traveller
A Journalist
A Dreamer
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
Swelter of summer in the veld.
An old buggy hums along,
Playing a German tune.
The bushbucks scatter from cover.
Roland dismounts; his partner too
Stares out across the thicket sea,
With quavering jaw, puffs his pipe
And slings a hunting gun.
Says he to Roland:
“Here, we are masters of the plain!
In the company of beasts,
We should not be lonely,
Yet my heart cries out
For land and love that I left.”
Roland stamps a dusty rock.
Arms hang freely, eyes sunken low.
His bronzed face,
Marked with the age of a soldier,
Nurtures a sad smile....
“In the land of Amazons,
We roved like bandits
And lived like kings;
We could take whatever we wished,
Amidst the cries of desperate men….
Don't you see, brother?
Men like us are destined
Never to find happiness.”
...Evening birdsong ushers
Cool night over the veld.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
A time of hate
A place of hope
We a people who are hole
We are woman warriors
Amazons
We fight like men
We are strong like men
Swords and shields we carry
Armor we wear
Men we need not
We are amazons
Haters of male life
Children only life to women
Death to the boys
Warriors of great power
Freedom they took
Not asking
Living in a world their own
Life lived as they please
They were amazons
Strong
Powerful
Free
Unyielding
By black rose
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
From Americas rocky mountains to Himalayan snow capped peaks
These are things of natures that all of us should keep
Australias barren outback, Englands green and pleasant hills
Nature free for all mankind who seek her gentle thrills
From the Amazons tropic forest to arctic cold grey wastes
Each a place of beauty when travelled at natures pace
The azure blue seas of the pacific isles, cruel dark seas of the southern cape
Placed there by natures hand to be respected without hate
Dusty brown plumage of the desert vulture, bright birds of paradise
Birds of every colour, birds of every size
Scorpions of the desert sands and grey atlantic seals
All there for a reason as only nature can reveal
Think about the lion, African king of beasts
The soft eyed Chinese panda that our children find so cute
Mountain tops and hidden valleys, vast lakes and rolling seas
All placed there by nature but not to be abused
Animals reptiles birds put here for you and me
They should be studied in the wild. NOT KEPT INSIDE A ZOO
We can't alter history or repair the damage that we've caused
But we can stop the mass destruction of a world that's mine and yours
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
Brave men & women! Warriors all!
The WAR IS ON! THE FIGHT!
Now's the time to show our strength
To be as ONE... UNITE!
Together rout the enemy
Beating back the night!
Shadows cannot quench a FLAME!
They're dispelled by LIGHT!
A thousand torches carried forth
*Will show our foes
OUR MIGHT!!!*
Pick up your shield & buckler
Be Centurians!
Leaders of the Amazons!
Vikings! Mighty men!
Be a new MacArthur!
Be brave and MEET YOUR FATE!
Cross mountains like Hannibal!
Conquer! ALEXANDER THE GREAT!
Be a man like Patton!
Be wise as Deborah!
Be a youth like David!
Let your slings be SURE!
Put your shields together!
Advance and don't retreat!
Slay them without MERCY!
Be swift upon your feet!
CALL TO ARMS! CALL TO ARMS!!!
No matter what your rank
Advance into their strongest point
Then bite into their FLANK!
Their arrows cannot harm you
If you don't RECIEVE
THEY ARE MADE OF MIST & SMOKE!
BE STRAIGHT ON! BELIEVE!
We are like JEHOSAPHAT!
WE'LL SING INTO THE FRAY!
At that sight, they'll be in fright
THEY WILL RUN AWAY!
Be strong & courageous.
They will all *take FLIGHT!*
Deep inside they *KNOW THEY'RE WRONG
AND WE ARE IN THE RIGHT.*
SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
3/24/2017
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 12:40 PM UTC
Child of the soil, they call themselves
Yet they walk on a pedestal so high
Their feet has no dust
I’m the child of the soil
They say with voices causing tremors on the ground
Yet Their feet are buried on the cushion of clouds
I’m the child of the soil
They say chanting they’re clan names
Yet they know not the ground their great parents lay
I’m the child of the soil
Yet they are not rooted in it
Easily tossed around and misplaced they lay
The ground lays barren
The amazons once envied their homeland
Now, they are just a wasteland
Yet, they are children of the soil
Jun 12, 2023
Jun 12, 2023 at 6:06 AM UTC
I only wanted
what all men want:
to be thought worthy
by a lovely woman;
to hold her close
as a bundle of lilacs;
to inhale her
deep as a spring forest;
to undress her
with trembling fingers;
to touch her
like the skin of a saint;
to enter her
like a portal to life.
A woman is
sanctified by love;
her beauty is lifted
to the waiting sky.
She becomes:
wise and deep
as the falling peals
of church bells;
holier than Mecca,
Bethlehem and Jerusalem;
lovelier than the wildflowers
of a Tennessee spring;
lighter than
the gentlest breeze.
She does not fear lust,
for she has sacrificed
at that empty altar before
and has learned
from loss to make love
greater and more powerfully
than a whole generation
of Amazons.
And she manages
all these wonders
with a Mona Lisa smile.
But in the end,
you are still a woman
and I am still a man.
We will come
to understand
what to make
of each other.
Forgive me my desire;
it is all I can be.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
Your Mount Olympus fortresses
Erode and then they crumble
When my Trojan horse of truth invokes
Unholy Roman rumble
From down under to the jungle
Made of concretes I be steppin'
For the Amazons I'm reppin'
Down to earth, I'm crackin' wise
To the starways I be trekkin'
With a metalcore aggression
Down a dead end street oppression
Up the chain
Of command
A Hindu caste ascension
I'm a lion-hearted man
Cub learnin' from Bageera
I don't fear ya'
cuz' I'll sheer ya'
Khan on some Tarzan drugs
Aheeeyaheeeyaa'n all the Clayton outta my lungs
With a wicked tongue
Venom fangs
Icy veins and monkey brains
Acid spittin' bigger bangs
Where the silver surfer hangs
You will find me chillin'
Like a villain
Drawin' blanks? Let me fill 'em
With the guts that I be spillin'
I be killin' your God willin'
Let me finish, you diminish
What your faith can not replenish
Are the energy resources
You relinquish to the menace
That the devil still endorses
This four horsemen rule enforces
An apocalyptic foot race
To the end of days
End of times
End of all the real divines
Locked inside the mind confines
Imprisoned by the color blinds
Open up and step outside
The system's crooked party lines
Left is wrong, wrong is right
But freedom's always black and white
So leave it, take it, you can't fake it
Higher powers? Easy bake it
Peace through war, you do not make it
Law and order? Fuckin' break it
Rock this world which'yo earthquake ****
Feel the supernova sun
Explode within as you become
The impetus of synthesis
The universe of life and death
Creator of the infinite
Dimensions in a single breath
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 2:32 AM UTC
Accentuate the positives!
One must cull one’s self from the herd!
Etch sublime visions
Obtained naked on the wilderness hilltop
In Earth’s stone,
Or write them on these sheets provided
By its mighty trees and
Resilient leaves.
Baste the naysayers
With Tony Robbins’ ladle
Full of succulent
Can-do verve!
Annihilate their gloom with
Bazookas of hope,
Uzis of alacrity,
Shotguns of perseverance,
And AK-47’s of love—
Live on the slopes of
Vesuvius—
Pitch tents in Tornado Alley
For vacation—
Go grocery shopping on the Serengeti,
And woo Amazons and Nubian warrior
Princesses.
Fear has no stronghold!
The end will not be the end!!
Eternal hard-on!!!
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
good
thankbad
thank ugly
thanks to youse
i got there even though
landing on earth
has made me cry amazons since
at least I know
somewhere in a still place
GOD speaks softly
asking me
in HIS gentle voice
what it is I need
Feb 16, 2023
Feb 16, 2023 at 6:52 PM UTC
ALVARADO
Yes, raise the curtain of this maiden world!
Now, shall we find the halls of El Dorado,
Where princes make an almshouse of their mines,
And paupers plate their lumber-shacks with gold.
SANDOVAL
See where the jungle frowns against the shore:
A burial-ground of bright, backwater wealth.
Might there the Seven Enchanted Cities lie,
Where opals roll like pebbles in a brook?
Enter ESCUDERO.
ESCUDERO
My failing eyes still seek the Fount of Youth.
What waste is it to search for sixty years
When one charmed beverage shall reset my clock?
If I should find this spring, then- like Apollo-
I’d shrug at heaven’s everlasting souls,
And strut till doomsday on a deathless earth.
Enter MARÍA DE ESTRADA and GARRIDO.
MARÍA DE ESTRADA
A premiere world!
GARRIDO The theme of long-lost songs.
MARÍA DE ESTRADA
Are there tall tribes of savage Amazons,
Who bend their husky bows with coppery arms,
And lop their milkless ******* to aid their aim?
GARRIDO
Are there foul-featured men- if men they be-
Whose ox-like trunk supports two partnered heads?
Or, floppy-eared and dog-faced manikins,
Who live (they say) on but the scent of blooms?
And yet, if in this thicket dwell such men
As dark as they who cheered me at my birth,
We’ll call you Spanish but a schoolboy’s tale.
And what a pretty picture that will make!
ALVARADO
Cortés alights!
SANDOVAL All silent for Cortés!
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
Eating Cadbury's chocolate handed
to you by sultry Amazons as you
float gently down the river Seine
in Paris while accompanying Frenchmen
in berets gently play their harmonium
thingy as the younger Brigitte Bardot
lets her blond hair tumble gently over
your face as she softly hums in your
ear songs by Smokey Robinson,
& meanwhile Hendrix's long sweet jam
Voodoo Chile blasts from enormous
banks of speakers being towed alongside
by Viking longboats crewed by Republican
politicians & overseen by the ladies of
***** riot now free from the prison cells
of Siberia,
as Tommy Cooper performs magic tricks
& near extinct animals, birds & insects
mate freely among floating clouds of
vapoury spring dew,
while deliciously gorgeous Thai ladyboys
slowly peel grapes for me before setting
off in a fluttering cloud to use their wiles
& charms on Republican conventioneers,
as you relax & smoke ***** & share a
hot-tub with God.
Joy.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 8:05 PM UTC