"anacondas" poems
I swear,
I love
a girl
with
biggg-ass
lips.
The kind of lips
that could pull a ****** into
a sanatarium.
I'd go crazy
willingly.
Put me in the strait-jacket
of your mouth.
I'll kiss every crevice because
you've got two anacondas of muscle covering
perfect teeth.
I'll grip the shoulders of your jaw,
as you squeeze me with those
biggg-ass lips
so hard
that my backbones
break.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 10:30 AM UTC
Some mornings,
I want to leap
from bed:
pluck the eyes
from anacondas,
beat monkey butts
with broken spoons,
and steal flowers
from cemetaries
to warm
the homeless.
But this
particular
morning,
I'd much rather
stay in bed
with your warmth,
your deep kisses,
your long sighs
and let the anacondas,
monkeys and homeless
fend for themselves.
~mce
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
Making her senses keen to discern it better , she realizes:
"This giant of a tree, is no less than a wonder"
on it age plays a game different, no one is able to gauge,
ancient times nurtured, wind and rains embraced it tight,
scorching sun, in all his tropical fervor, couldn't daunt it,
eventually sun and the tree must have fallen in love with each other,
From morning till night, this banyan listens to many voices,
long days didn't make any difference, every day is new to it,
the roots searching under the earth, the hanging ones above,
create their own world, the ones below earth search for water.
when they come up in certain places, they look like creatures
prowling crocodiles, reptiles, or even imaginary creatures, without names
Hang roots defy all rules, prefer the shapes of snakes it seems
anacondas, vipers, pythons or cobras in search of prey.
This banyan is a catalyst, from bird to humans here,
find a shelter,take rest for varying times. It's Grandma attitude
makes each seeker of solace and rest go back with happy smiles.
Some times here, a pauper speaks to a pundit, roles get reversed,
experience speaks louder than the knowledge in the book,
the many voices heard under the banyan makes,
one awake, from slumber, the orchestra of many voices,
builds a music, euphonious in its composition, pregnant with meanings.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
I want to see where nice words are used on young ladies.
Damned Rome of rude-bred heights from the balcony of the city of dynamite. The villagers sacrifice their seven pounds of worry, and sleep like children in caves of textile reactors. Souls packed in coins and gasoline sin are sold hot at the bazaar on a University campus in America. What the **** do these lambs do in societal gardens? What the hell do pets know watching letters drizzle from the clouds? Parcel dreams scattered on foster children--I want to know where all our words for niceties went when we paid the women to be young.
Devils make knees slick
barbwire anacondas bless our country
write a laugh--write a song--and we will all work it out
We--used as a rapier to categorize the salt in vigorous blood flow--the bells, the bells of centuries worth of midnights. I--the edited cobble in roads that precipitation breaks in stride. Hearing the rambles of lucky men in the next room, but I know young ladies don't kiss and tell to friends they find effeminate, they rupture and explode. And laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And laugh with squeaky voices as true as poetry. Now they mumble till they are paid.
But you--are no ********** just an empty glass with chunks of broken accents skipping deadlines in life, for new deadlines in life. Abstract puzzle pieces resemble therapy that burns the interrupted wick in--you.
But as for--them--they--or others--delirium commercializes whispers aching the back of their tonsils till there is no relief, but coin to pay for more coin that will pay for more coin. Relief is in another language they refuse to learn because they are arrogant.
Cats scowl at one in the morning for attention, nails anchored in carpet, the rest of us are tired by the week of spending. They want more, more, more--till the gates in your eyes open.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
Anacondas and vipers
are the serious biters.
Cobras and mambas
can create deadly dramas.
Garden snakes and kingsnakes
tooth marks still ache.
Be cautious
or else you'll end up being nauseous.
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 9:59 AM UTC
She's a good girl
Born from the mouth of God
Amid a celestial bout of sneezing
She lay with me as the clock ticked
Talking softly of her fear of colors
Green ants and black turtles
Orange sparrows and red, red water
Fear not I bellowed
The night caught the echo though
And sent back nonsense for hours
Your tongue is cooked black she cried
Your hands are gray cruelty
I wrapped my arms around her shivering
Detached my lower jaw
And swallowed her back up.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 3:39 AM UTC
Like human drones,
They trailed the messiah
From Frisco to Guyana,
In search of Eden
Among anacondas, tapirs,
Diminutive Wai Wais,
And Purple-heart giants....
Where torrential rain
Blasted the ****** soil
Like B-24 bombers
Over Normandy...
And piranhas
Shredded human flesh
To naked bone
In black-water creeks
Coursing through the Amazon...
And a fledging nation
Of less than 1 million
Navigated the treacherous canefields
Of independence...
Why....?
The question lingers
Like maggots on
900 rotting corpses...
Why....?
The answers wither
Like 900 minds mesmerized
By Jim the messiah...
Forfeiting lavish luxuries of freedom
For the Temple's tickets
To a worry-free ride...
To Heaven.
~ Pablo
(#JimTheMessiah)
3/1/2014
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
Is there such thing as the greatest or are you just the latest?
DNA mixed with chromosomes, little bit of greatness,
Do you have to do it first, or do it better than the first person?
Life is not a game but the experience is in first person,
And the way you could hurt me is zero to none, but in the ways of many,
Hope the number of days I have left is not to shy of many, but I wonder the most all is at what’s the center,
Will you consider this a poem because I press enter? Just a thought, which is a splinter, leading to another moment, hindered, and it hurts like a wound cut open on a subzero winter day,
Blah blah blah, **** I’m stuck, what should I say......
Looking in the dictionary where words are legislated, a place where black and white has never been so creative, and then I get creative, the piece of paper is landscape waiting for a God to come create it, so I ask God to make my words almighty, Speak it and none shall debate it,
"But watch out for the snakes Ben, anacondas of the drama, please think of relocating, as darkness unfolds, and I know you think I created it and maybe I did but I...I...I. Forbid",
God Forbids,
I’m stuck again, wanting to be great, wanting to be the best, wanting to be next, less stressed and Noticed, never did they say that life was no test, and I hope I never fail again,
Because next time the gun won’t jam again, tried to play almighty and he laugh and said never try to play again, here’s another chance benny man, I hope you plan to win
Thought of death brings fear enough, but when you want to do it yourself, it never re-appears enough; **** right I’m tearing up, only for a moment my chest is clearing up, but when I go to bed at night I think **** I’m giving up,
I live with what could have been, and now it haunts me, they say the fear keeps you alive but what’s the phrase for when you don’t want to be?
I’m done thinking now, of course of I’m lying, because if I ever stop thinking of random of stuff, of course I’m dying,
I may never be the greatest, but you know I’m trying, resolutions for the pollution from the voices trying to **** Zion.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 12:23 AM UTC
I've never heard a voice speak so weak
yet still puncture my ear.
I've never heard a single word spoken
that enchanted my darkest fear.
hell-fire struck me deep like a dart
as if anacondas were suffocating my heart.
My body turned cold.
as I tried to fathom what I've been told
horror and regret eat my living flesh whole.
Question after question contradict in my soul.
Acid tears scold my eyes;
reactant to a mind
that is overwhelmed and flooding with doubt.
My anguished internal spirit cries out
Why…
Why?
Why would he abandon his family like that?
How could he leave us so soon?
What were the thoughts damning his mind
when the gun to his own head, he drew.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
As I wonder, I conjure a monster with this wand and my honor.
I ponder how you can squander my genre, I'm lava.
Anacondas to lamas, venomous, I'm black mambas.
Garfield comma lasagna, that's pasta.
Comets comment on the trauma after I bombed ya.
***** iguana after the ***** in the Bahamas.
In the cabana like Osama, hide and seek, trying to avoid the drama.
but my Pride hunts and peaks when I speak,
A void, this is the 3Y3 of the BLitZ3D SAGA.
Blunts of kief while I reap, hydroponic droid.
Quick like Raffekie but I lead like Mufassa.
I'm Scar to hyenas, and yes I am Luke's Father.
Hiatus, I'm too high, I am a Sky Walker.
Hydra made, I claim Dark Mage
Use 3's when I write, and spell magic with a K.
Your gana need to come harder.
This is Tree times 3 vs Special K.
Said **** it and versed myself 3 ways that one day.
It was MagiKal, see the intentional K?
Savage truth, My pills red.
Down the rabbit hole, I'm here to stay.
Reach out an ravage your ankle.
Pull you in, M.I.B. I'm Agent-K.
Mage In Black, Dark Arts,
Matrix word play, not an absurd grey.
Prometheus, I am Predator,
A.I., I-Robot, I Am Legend,
Will Smith, Independence Day.
Annunaki I am a descendant.
The First Demi they selected,
Earths representative that slays.
An entity,
When they spoke of god, what they meant was me.
The incarnation of uncertainty.
Hell bent on carnage, feeds on false beliefs.
"The Scripture", "Birthed from the streets."
A reputation you cant tarnish.
I don't expect relief.
Mercy is for the week.
I'll die standing before I ever drop to a knee.
The first to leap.
I AM BLitZ3D.
THIS IS TH3 3Y3'S OF TH3 L3GACY THAT IS M3.
"E.T"
"A Lion, A Demon, A Creature Of Myth, An Alien Being"
Plasma is on the page but ET's not bleeding.
Thats just my pen leaking, Kracken ink can be misleading.
Submerged marines, Titanic icebergs, Atlantis reemerge on my command , sorcerer supreme, Gigantic knights Converge,
Looped in a green screen dream sequence scene theme,
"The Sheep Will Always Scream"
Eye of the storm, I am Dopamine
I am dope, I mean. Am I not dope man?
I am the dope man to the feigns
(To Be Continued...)
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 11:19 PM UTC
Jacky had a tiny voice,
a voice
like a whistle.
But she carried
Julian
like she was holding
goodness
and those tiny arms
had veins
in anacondas.
"There's my little man,
my little soldier,
my little hope."
Julian
giggled in twinkling spoons
and vivid joy,
the joy of a mattress
of Jackie's love.
Jackie wore like
a thousand wraps,
applebottoms
and chucks
clinging
to the
soles.
But she loved
Julian
and took him in her arms
when he screamed.
With that tiny voice
she sang
and made ice sculptures
out of the cold blocks
of his hunger.
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 9:59 PM UTC
the beauty of the amazon its river big and wide
lots of jungle trees with animals locked inside
jaguars and monkeys and there are lizards to
many plants of wonder that are nice to view
there are anacondas roaming wild and free
this one of many snakes for all the world to see
a picture to behold a gift from up above
the beauty of the amazon is something that i love
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Woke up shaking and screaming trying to save you from the beast that lured into into a dark room while no one else was aware of anything around them hyped on pills and ***** even you unaware of what was going to happen being invisible and helpless while you throw away your life is something nobody wants to dream I woke up angry that you came back upset because of it afraid it was true and i dont know im unsure and don't want to know if anacondas are as fearful as they say i dont want to know if you did feel the painful bite.
Dec 22, 2010
Dec 22, 2010 at 12:48 PM UTC
The missionary wiped the sweat
That formed small beads on his sunburnt brow.
Never had he thought that learning
A language would be so hard till now.
But learning a language and studying a culture
So very different from his own,
Deep in the Amazonian jungle--
A damp and brutal climate zone--
Were challenges that he was eager
Because of his Christian faith to accept,
Even though he had to watch out
For poisonous creatures wherever he stepped.
His goal: to learn the language there
In order to translate the Holy Bible
So he could teach the truth as he knew it
To various peoples, godless and tribal.
His dual role as a servant of God
And graduate student studying linguistics
Opened his mind and heart to embrace
The people's diverse characteristics.
Constant threats were jaguars, insects,
And anacondas in the river,
Along with shifty river pilots
Transporting goods to trade or deliver.
After years of being there
And putting up with a bare subsistence,
He pondered why his ideas among
The people were met with such resistance.
Occurring to him suddenly
As an epiphany, he had to face
The fact that maybe he had been
Peddling his goods in the wrong place.
Why did he need to fix the people?
They were fine just as they were.
If he tried to change their beautiful
Way of life, what would occur?
They had faith in themselves and lived
Without worry, fear, or despair.
He was imposing his own concept
Of truth on them. How unfair!
Questioning his own ideas,
He clarified his own confusion
And saw that life without absolutes
Was one way to see through delusion.
How ironic! He'd gone to Brazil
With good intentions, though smug and prim,
To try to convert the people there;
They, however, converted him.
-by Bob B (12-3-17)
°Inspired by the experiences of Daniel L. Everett
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
You haven't seen how much poison is there in the world so wide,
People who have it just want to shove you aside.
They want to take the credit for all that you have done,
They'll just sit and make you leap at the Sun.
Didn't I say?
They want to take the credit for all that you have done.
Such snakes slither into your life like a caring friend,
They act perfect, like a true friend is,
They'll impress you, they'll make sure you're following the latest trend,
But it's not until you hit the rocky road, you hear a hiss.
Yes. They show their true self.
They'll bake rumors and spread them far and wide,
They'll chuck muck over you 'til you cry,
Then on your misery, they'll have jolly ride,
They'll never let the pool of your misery dry.
I've seen such a poison viper in my life. Thus, here I stand narrating my plight.
When she came, her manners pleased my sight.
I befriended her.
"What happened then?" You may ask.
Let me tell you.
When she showed her true self, it was like someone hit me with a knife.
Such an over-dramatic and dominating person I'd never seen in my life.
She spread rumors far and wide,
On herself, she takes a lot of pride.
Oh! Those rumors were falser than the word false,
They killed my reputation dead,
And cut all the friendly calls,
I was so depressed, my mind was hanging by a mere thread.
*
She hasn't changed much today,
We''ll never be true friends any day.
I warn you all.
Before you befriend someone, make sure that they are not the anacondas,
They will act friendly in the beginning but observe closely, you will see the changing hue.
Be alert, it won't take them long to forget what real friendship bond is,
Such snakes can never be friends who are true.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 1:07 AM UTC
the beauty of the amazon its river big and wide
lots of jungle trees with animals locked inside.
jaguars and monkeys and there are lizards to
many plants of wonder that are nice to view.
there are anacondas roaming wild and free
this one of many snakes for all the world to see.
a picture to behold a gift from up above
the beauty of the amazon is something that i love
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 7:42 AM UTC