"ensnarement" poems
It’s dusk
Lustful grapevines curl around my ankles
And I’m thankful it’s wine season, the pickers should be around shortly to save me
And bathe me in last year’s crop to scare the grape vines into submission
It’s a decision they have to make
Do they care about a perfect stranger enough to waste
Roads of trucks of crates of bottles of red velvet
Or white sunshine
Or do they allow this ensnarement and turn a blind eye whilst I sink
While thinking; pondering the fertility of the soil under my feet
I’ll wait for the pickers, just to see how they view me
And in the meantime the vines are spinning yarns around me
Crawling up my skin, holding me tight while telling me bed time stories
Once upon a time there was a vineyard struck by a drought
Caused by unrelenting calm, and clear blue skies with no clouds
And they resisted, rationed their water between them,
And it seemed then that everything was fine
The crop was harvested and won best wine, but failed to mention how many vines
Died in the making of their own blood
Morbid and dry, a pinot noir fashioned out of pain and scars
And tears in flesh, not human flesh, but the flesh of the landscape
I didn't smile
But it did make me sleepy
I couldn't fight their grasp
Addicted to their emotions
I let them take me down into their fertile ocean
And when the pickers came to discern the source of the screaming
A new grape vine had sprouted and was teething
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 2:19 PM UTC
Despite the right to spite the far away
Of only what I know is nothing as a word
Only what I know is everything as a meaning
******** **** in this early morn
******** love of that metal music
ENOUGH OF THIS (will make you crazy)
Heterosinea contractual echinacea of aviary actual sack attack
ATTACKING SACK INSIDE A RACK O' FLACK
FLACK BOMbardment of horse willed ensnarement
Wiley wicker writhing in illness
Loose found youtube through fool rude nudes
Useful contraptions trap attraction for creative adoration and many more "things"
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
Kerplop!
Tasty morsel sinks beneath the depths.
Lures with its sparkling promise of tender fruits,
No hint of its hidden ensnarement.
Large eyes ogle the morsel,
Owner biding his time to ensure the promised catch.
Tasty sport to be found here today!
CHOMP!
Got You!
No quick escape for you my tasty morsel!
The thoughts are echoed from above
As the eyes bulge in surprise.
Pain tears through the scaly flesh,
Forgotten in a split second
When unrelenting pressure jerks upwards,
Pulling towards heavens waterless ocean of air.
Oh what snares have trapped me
In my endeavors for a free meal and entertainment?
What costly price paid for careless satisfaction?
With every powerful swish of my tail I resist,
But soon I am face to face with my captor.
His hungry eyes and fat tummy belie his need to feed.
Take heed the captor who would become captive
Take heed lest you become someone else’ sport.
Oct 21, 2009
Oct 21, 2009 at 1:13 AM UTC
My love, I have tried with all my being
to grasp a form comparable to thine own,
but nothing seems worthy;
I know now why Shakespeare could not
compare his love to a summer’s day.
It would be a crime to denounce the beauty
of such a creature as thee,
to simply cast away the precision
God had placed in forging you.
Each facet of your being
whether it physical or spiritual
is an ensnarement
from which there is no release.
But I do not wish release.
I wish to stay entrapped forever.
With you for all eternity.
Our hearts, always as one
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
Pick me up out of a dozen
Light me up
Inhale deeply
And crush me underfoot
When I'm ash
Am I just a chapter in your book
A pit stop on your way to your true destination
Another flower to pick, sniff, and toss
A trinket for your phone?
If I am
Then leave now
Sooner than later
Before you stain more of me
With your touch
And I shall run once more
Into the familiar embrace
Of desolation.
I saw forever in you.
If I hadn't
I would have let the tide take me
And drag me back down
Where my ghosts await
Their eyes luminous
With a disappointed anger
Festering and simmering for generations.
Or had you sought immortality?
To press the ink from my soul
And let the smears bear testament
To your triumphant ensnarement
Of a hapless poet
Who
Left in the wake of your caress
Has no recourse
But write poem after poem
As one forces pus from a boil?
*Will I be the last
To whom you promise the stars?*
If I am
And if you're here to stay
Then make your home in me
And together
We'll weather the storms of life
And ravages of time
We'll **** off years
Smoke away reams
Gulp down pots of coffee
Just talking and conversing and chatting
With our mouths
And hands
Exploring each other
Mind, body, and soul.
Marvel time and again
How we stumbled into each other
How we simply happened
Wonder
What were the odds?
As we catch our breath
In each other's arms
Steadying our breathing
In the dark
Leave trails of new experiences
Shed new memories on top of still-fresh ones
Tread on them until we reach the moon
Make plans and hold hands
Plotting our next course
From one star to another
Until we reach the corner of the universe
Give all of us to each other
Wholly
Fully
Willingly
I'll give you everything
All of me
If you promise not to leave.
I chose you, geisha.
And my nerve will not fail
Even as I risk
Another plunge.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
preserved breviaries Catholic, properly categorised
plenty of answers many questions added to, juxtaposition
of many images, a precise definition
of antagonisation, sycophantic normal positions despised
totally, military misers accused of ensnarement orderly memorialised
properties properly improved, revealed superstition
and suspicion, doubtfully splendid spirited perdition
distinguished, heirs of documents are identified, minimised
images and boors' occupied regions, grandiose
sciences are indeterminable, safely secured benefits
for runic understandings pretentious
obstinate beasts acquire in disruption, types of otiose
considerations ill-prepared to deal with credits
and debts for answering questions licentious
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 6:48 AM UTC
My Love, I Have Tried With All My Being
To Grasp A Form Comparable To Thine Own,
But Nothing Seems Worthy;
I Know Now Why Shakespeare Could Not
Compare His Love To A Summer?S Day.
It Would Be A Crime To Denounce The Beauty
Of Such A Creature As Thee,
To Simply Cast Away The Precision
God Had Placed In Forging You.
Each Facet Of Your Being
Whether It Physical Or Spiritual
Is An Ensnarement
From Which There Is No Release.
But I Do Not Wish Release.
I Wish To Stay Entrapped Forever.
With You For All Eternity.
Our Hearts, Always As One.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC