"fetch" poems
At the corner, a girl child from the UK
another soft drink she chugged
Whilst the girl woman in the Sudan,
the heavy *** on head she lugged
She walked eight miles, braving ****
to fetch unclean water from the well
Whilst in the UK, the girl bought designer clothes
to make her feel just swell
God where are the waters of life?
To end their strife
At the mall, the boy child ate his third Hershey bar
In Malawi the boy man’s
stomach had extended too far
Malnutrition had sealed his fate
God where is the cereal?
To make their lives non-ephemeral
Down under, the son celebrated with family,
presents and cake
his father’s 100th milestone
Whilst in war torn Syria, a son, now orphan
buried his young murdered father,
in ground without a gravestone
God when will the fighting cease?
To give them a chance of peace
Is this God’s confusion?
That though we are all made the same,
some people their innocence shattered
are headed for a terrifying fate
whilst others fully satiated and secure,
sip their drinks, polish off and request another plate
Or does God if he exists
not love the weak and oppressed?
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
162
My River runs to thee—
Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me?
My River wait reply—
Oh Sea—look graciously—
I’ll fetch thee Brooks
From spotted nooks—
Say—Sea—Take Me!
22.7k
*
*Oh BELOVEDz
My LOVERz
Krishna
Let us open up to
Fulfill the promise
We made to each other
What do you say my BELOVEDz?
What is your wish my LOVERz?
Never again in life
Such occasion of LOVE happens
Come in my arms,
Don't be shy my LOVE
Come within me
Hug me to death
Radha:
I've lost my way of life
Let me find a direction
I'm not dressed for
The honey-moon night
Let me come prepared
For your LOVE night
Please let me go
Krishna
You did what you wanted with me
With every passing moment and day
YOU made me LOVE YOU more & more
All your dreamZ of finding
True LOVER ended with my LOVEz
Now let me show you my LOVE desireZ
Drown my passions
In your volcanic being
Let my fire extinguish
In your cool waters
Radha
Leave me, don't hold my hand
Just see - the way I'm in a mess
My heart is beating fast
I am feeling scared of LOVE
I am feeling cold with sweat
Krishna
Oh.. come on dear
In no time,
I'll make you warm
With the fire of my LOVE
My kisses on your eyes
Will bring clarity to your SOUL
My touch will remove all the shyness
That clouds over your heart
Radha
See, with your LOVE words
Now I lost the key to
The door to my core
So let me go to fetch them first
Krishna
Just come on dear
Don't find reasons to delay our UNION
Let us lock ourselves alone
Don't play such tricks with me
I am burning under your passionate deZiRe
Radha
Just for a moment
Let me go and come prepared
For the LOVE night
YOU know baby - I am yours
I'm not going to leave you any more
I will be back my LOVE
To spend many nights
Of LOVEz with YOU
Krishna
I believe YOU my LOVEz
I will only do what you say
I will follow your advise
I will only talk your words
I will only act your will
Radha
If I say - day is night
Will YOU say so?
Krishna
I will.. I will...
Radha
If I say - LOVE me forever, eternally
Will YOU say so?
Krishna
I will.. I will...
Radha
If you say so...
I will show you a LOVE night
Right now in this day light
I will show YOU
The light within my core
Will you light my dark core?
I will show you LOVE stars
In the cosmos of my hidden darkness
I'm only born to LOVE YOU
Since our LOVE happened
I've only LOVEDz YOU
Krishna
After showing me so much LOVE
If you go away now
I will die in your longing
Radha
Just for a second now
Let me go for a while
I will be back immediately
Krishna
Both of us are excited and
Full of passionZ and desiReZ
When we will get such LOVE moment again?
What else you want to do now?
Radha
Let us open up to
Fulfill the promise
We made to each other
Let us LOVE
Let us make LOVE
Never again in life
Such occasion of LOVE happens
Come in my arms,
Don't be shy my LOVE
Come within me
Hug me to death*
*
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 1:37 AM UTC
sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think,
I'm not going to make it, but you laugh inside
remembering all the times you've felt that way, and
you walk to the bathroom, do your toilet, see that face
in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my, but you comb your hair anyway,
get into your street clothes, feed the cats, fetch the
newspaper of horror, place it on the coffee table, kiss your
wife goodbye, and then you are backing the car out into life itself,
like millions of others you enter the arena once more.
you are on the freeway threading through traffic now,
moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punch
the radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehow
get through the slow days and the busy days and the dull
days and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightful
and so disappointing because
we are all so alike and so different.
you find the turn-off, drive through the most dangerous
part of town, feel momentarily wonderful as Mozart works
his way into your brain and slides down along your bones and
out through your shoes.
it's been a tough fight worth fighting
as we all drive along
betting on another day.
13.3k
715
The World—feels Dusty
When We stop to Die—
We want the Dew—then—
Honors—taste dry—
Flags—vex a Dying face—
But the least Fan
Stirred by a friend’s Hand—
Cools—like the Rain—
Mine be the Ministry
When they Thirst comes—
And Hybla Balms—
Dews of Thessaly, to fetch—
12.3k
At Nineteen Miles An Hour, Smoking On A Train
chugging along the lilacs of twilight in the plasma darkening of a stretch
we fetch the improbable road to our destination. we give a **** but the birds are listening.
and that might lead to luggage. so much, you might sweep the light fantastic
into army hats. you might march a sustained coup on your hopeless epiphanies.
at nineteen miles an hour, on a train... you see your god.
are you too light to darken the right words
to a happy demise?
are your zeroes at odds?
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 4:05 PM UTC
The moon is now bright and full
showering silver romance,
to the leaves of tree so dull.
A cricket humming his chants
deep in meditation behind
the dark unknown shrub's branch.
Somewhere in a nest, a hatchling can't sleep
letting out feeble hunger cries
her mother did not fetch enough to feed.
While on my walk, I see those eyes
hiding behind a trunk, peeping
I assure it safety, I know may be lying
Night is the time for them to be,
struggling to enjoy independence and security
this unending night leading them to the unknown
what will remain I wonder at the crack of dawn.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
She is a beautiful sight
As she she walks across the room
To fetch my creamy delight
Oh how i miss her so
Standing there across the room
At a counter of cream froze
And i know shell be back soon
So i have to say goodbye
Cause im a goon
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
i used to cradle her bleach-cracked hands in mine
and decode the stardust resting within her fingerprints
up until the day that i lost touch with the art of reading braille
and she stopped slinging tall-tales for me to fetch
and rest the plot-twist at her feet
often in the post-script
i'd find my train of thought highjacked by the sunlight illuminating the rainbow of earth-tones ablaze
in her frizz-ridden curls
as if she'd been washing her hair with the damaged case of beer
she'd gotten for half-price at liqour depot
she never did quit drinking
but neither did i
at least we tried
though sometimes
in the middle of the night when nothing was alright
and we'd barely survived another fight
her face would catch my glance
cast aglow by a flood of lava-lamp light
the sea of freckles resting at the crest of her cheeks
rose lips perma-pursed in half tilt
her resting heart-rate so high that i could almost see it
pirouetting within her chest
it was then that i'd love her best
amidst the ruins of who we were
just moments before
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
I went to bake some cupcakes
I was in such a merry mood
I miss the sweet creamy taste
I miss the smell of food
Human food, Monster food
Oh, its just the same
What matters is how to make it good
I call this a cooking game
A cup of flesh, and mix it well
Those smelly rotten eggs
Light the fire, the flames of hell
Let's chop these human legs
Ahh, fresh flour - I stole from the store
A little bit of sugar, a little bit of salt
Let's knead the dough, let's fetch the coal
Surely, this is not my fault
For a sudden twist, I suddenly thought
Why not stir-in some blood
The jar of of red, I quickly sought
Where's that stirring rod?
So I baked it in the ancient oven
And waited for some time
Ping! It sprung open!
Now let's give it a try!
Nothing like a meal
For a hungry half-breed
Wasn't such a deal
It was just what I need
Nothing like a Sunday
When you're not feeling mad
Nothing like cupcakes
Nothing like fresh blood
Oh, human bones!
Ack! Ugghh!!
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
The vicar's knickers look so fine
As they hang upon the line.
Flapping wildly in the breeze,
They're as sassy as you please.
They used to be a shade of grey,
But on the line, in the light of day,
They sparkle white as they hang about.
Even Mr. Clean would scream and shout.
People in the street stop and stare
As they admire the vicar's underwear.
Hanging there for all to see,
They seem to cry, "Look at me!"
The gathering crowd gives a sigh
When the vicar's knickers seem to fly
As they dance and twist upon the line,
Looking white and clean, and oh so fine.
Inside the house the vicar pleads,
"Dear wife, some underwear I need.
Without my knickers I cannot say
My sermon in the church today."
The vicar's wife has had enough
Of viewing her husband in the buff,
As he searches for another pair
Of sparkling, clean, white underwear.
"I know where to find a pair!
They're on the line, those underwear,"
Says the vicar's wife with a grin.
"I'll just go out and fetch them in."
The poor man waits and says a prayer
And hopes she finds those underwear.
He really wants to finish dressing
And go to church and say the blessing.
She snatches them from off the line
Where they've hung and looked so fine.
The crowd watches her take them down,
Those knickers, the whitest in all the town.
They'll have to come another day
To gawk and watch those knickers play.
The vicar needs that elusive pair
Of sparkling, clean, white underwear.
The vicar's just as pleased as punch
Because he had a sneaking hunch
He'd never see that last clean pair,
And he'd have nothing else to wear.
Now he's dressed and ready for the day,
And he can go to church and kneel and pray
Because he's wearing a lovely pair
Of sparkling, clean, white underwear.
Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 2:28 PM UTC
Only when efforts are taken
Defeats can be easily broken
When mind suffers from fear
It opens the gate for tear
By indulging in self-pity
We may blunder in duty
When we are too much afraid
We lose even from God aid
God wants us to be brave
Then only He can save
Boldly enter into the bout
Let hope finely sprout out
Just by making up mind
A way one can surely find
Honest efforts fetch glory
Hard-work brings victory
Never think pessimistically
Ponder over practically
It is very easy to soon retreat
But, success refuses its treat
Courageous steps achieve
So a bold plan, try to weave
mvvenkataraman
SEARCH mvvenkataraman IN GOOGLE OR YAHOO
Aug 12, 2011
Aug 12, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
In the dimly lit chamber, we set the scene.
An owner and his pet, a game of primal and prey.
She kneels like an eager dog, a collar around her neck.
He stomps his feet and keeps her obedience at play.
The owner, like a magician, keeps tricks up his sleeve.
He wants his pet to learn— to be his student and please.
Commanding her to crawl, to fetch and beg.
Waiting for him to call her a good little pet.
She barks and whimpers, a puppy in passion.
Spins three times and licks her master’s feet without a whine.
The pet surrenders to her master’s might.
She delivers his sturdy leather boots in a straight line.
With a flick of the whip, the pet curls in elation.
Her master chuckles at her sounds of temptation.
Submitting to the cynicism of ******* and discipline.
She is flogged like a plebeian, forgetting she’s a citizen.
Pet and master, a bond so strong.
The two are bound by zeal, craving one another.
She wallows in the comfort of her belly rubs and treats.
And runs around with a rush of red in color.
She goes through treacherous training.
And yelps if she’s ever caught complaining.
Waiting for a tasteful gift: the eternity collar.
When she is ready, he puts it on with honor.
Jun 16, 2024
Jun 16, 2024 at 6:25 PM UTC
Pandas are *******
No doubt about it
All they ever do
Is sleep, eat and sit
It seems that the zoo
Is their native habitat
Sleep eat sit, sleep eat sit
Until they get fat
With their mickey mouse ears
And their love of mascara
Oh sure they make great toys
But so does a llama
You can't ride a Panda
You can't teach them to fetch
And where d'you buy bamboo
If you want one as a pet?
They're no good at mousing
They don't never forget
They don't even purr
They need help having ***
No, pandas are *******
There's no doubt in my mind
A less de-pandable pet
You're unlikely to find.
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 2:23 PM UTC
The Lego men.
Sat in the toy box playing with their bricks.
Johnnie the little fella took them out to play
Daddy put a board in the garden just upon the patio.
What was just a piece of ply grew before Johnnie's eye.
He tipped them out onto the board.
Went inside to fetch a drink and get a spot of near noon brunch.
A thriving hive of industry, was hidden in his plastic box.
He came back outside and all was built.
Castles and gardens, palatial palaces.
The Lego men had built a perfect village.
Nobody knew they could.
Just a little shocked.
His little sister Jennifer, she hid behind the garden wall.
It wasn't the work of the miraculous Lego men after all.
Who would ever have believed that the toys came out to play.
(C) Livvi
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 5:22 AM UTC
It’s a place of healing,
the forest floor.
A place alive with secrets and knowing.
My learned sense of reality catches on the brambles and thorns as I pass,
and the tentative uncertainty of my untrained step
loosens with the soil on my feet
in the puddles on the path.
It’s a place of healing,
the forest floor.
A place intent on living.
Where each movement beneath the
towering company of life informs the next.
A little slower this time.
A little softer.
More quiet.
And with each surrendering breath,
another can be heard.
One more colossal and unified in its polyrhythmic sway.
The trees and vines and creatures with their watchful eyes,
and the earth underfoot,
swell and recede in a merry yawn.
On my twilight walk to fetch water
the dark patiently dilutes all colour,
but allows detail a stolen moment to define my way.
The texture of bark on the lean oak trees around the spring,
the burbling contortion of their reflection at its yielding mouth,
the lichen-rough rocks,
smoothed at the water's edge,
all persist and scintillate into grey.
The soft pricked dendrites of moss cushion my knee
as I slip and fall,
one foot in the spring!
And my scream and giggle pierce the listening night,
and there is no other human being in sight.
So I sit. Wet and still. In the moss.
For tonight, when the darkness stretches its veil impenetrably-tight
over the forest I shall be inside,
to find my place within it's creeping, writhing breath.
Its a place of healing,
the forest floor.
Where living things may grow.
Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 4:39 AM UTC
He's broken, he's in pieces, he's trapped, in a black hole
He's crying, he's heartbroken, he's dying of loneliness
He's confused, his mind is overloaded, his todger is dropping off
He's this and that and that and this
projecting your ******* fears and insecurities on him
Hahaha...hahaha...hahaha...hahaha...hahaha
You know what....He's NOT....he's laughing at you
He's happy that you now realize there are still men out there
who transcend your ******* stereotyping and imbecilic assumptions .
He's still laughing because he now sees for ******* real
how immature and mentally underdeveloped a lot of you are
and how so petty, mediocre and easy to manipulate you are
Not to mention how weak, spineless and unable to handle pressure
so many of you are.
He laughing because you just act without fully thinking
You are a shallow lot, cowardly, infantile and narrow minded
You lack sound reasoning capacity and a lot of you are neurotic
He's laughing because most believe anything they are told
Unquestioning drones like a Labrador thrown a stick
Go fetch, off he runs, retrieve stick, pat on the head, good boy
Just simple minded followers.
He laughing because he's attained all he wanted
Got a good education, good self understanding, good morality
sensitivity, compassion, empathy, confidence and honesty
A well drilled man, adaptable, flexible, courageous and brave
A MODERN DAY SPARTAN.
He's laughing because you can't ******* take that away
He's laughing because he's shown you how a proper man is
He's laughing because he's invalidated your stereotypical
assumptions, your prejudices, your bigotry and your ignorance
He's laughing because you have confirmed your inferiority
exposed your fears and inadequacies and make others see how
damaged and vindictive you are
He's laughing because out of all only one woman has shown
magnanimity and she didn't belong to the class of the mediocres
Which proves the point that mediocrity goes hand in hand
with ignorance, fear and lack of Dignity and Integrity.
And he's laughing because he's got chutzpah
a big package
and a hell of "tener cojones"
hahaha...hahaha...hahaha...hahaha
[email protected] Sept 2018,Allrightsreserved.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
**only a ******* man could love a ******** poodle**
everybody knows poodle one of the smartest breeds,
not exactly a manly man's dog, but great to have around to feed,
feed you, when alone, and you need a good conversation
had me a good woman
she would say:
"hon, kindly fetch me this and that,"
**** dog would get her whatever she wanted,
me, didn't mind at all, loved taking care of her,
but the dog loved her more and be there and back
before I could jack my feet off the couch
she would say:
"hon, come near, give me a
nuzzle and a kiss, a cuddle and a lick"
**** dog, double quick, cause it spoke better human than most,
was in her lap burying her laughing with affection infectious,
before I could jack my feet off the couch
she would say:
"honey love, meet me bed upstairs,
love me sweet and complete,
when done, please love me
over again twice as nice"
**** dog hearing the sacred holy word bed
was up there in a flash, howling "what's taking youse guys so long,"
tail impatient drumming up a rock n' roll storm,
while we slow pokey, taking our own sweetest time,
humans messing around first with a little downtown downstairs,
prefatory, preparatory work,
both our feet lazy still on the couch kissing the cold away
when we got to our destiny destination, had to kick that
**** ******** foggy doggy outside, close the door,
say no more, **** dog did whine and cry like a baby chile,
till we couldn't take it no more and let that **** dog in
she would say:
"lover man, I love you better than twice I thought I could
ever love another, cause you two idiots two-gether make me
sweeter and completer than I ever knew I could be happier"
like I said, only a ******** man** could love a ******* poodle**
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 8:29 AM UTC
My puppy loves to run,
My puppy loves to play,
My puppy is tons of fun,
My puppy does this all day.
My puppy loves to fetch
My puppy loves to slobber
Throw a bone, he’ll catch
My puppy has even stopped a robber!
My puppy loves to run,
My puppy loves to play,
Then his fur turned grey,
And he died last May.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
Look, you have now broken your back bone
Because of climbing tall trees and high balconies
To spy on your wife as she roves the village,
You climbed a Tall baobab tree up to the apex
To play sentry and spy on your wife
When she went down the river to fetch some water
For you to bathe and wash your jealousy body
And when she met her brother-in –law;
The man from another village across the river
Who greeted her with a prolonged hug
Embracing your wife in his strong arms
They way a giant can do to a beauty model,
Feat of goofy jealous gripped you
And you forgot that you were perching in high danger
At the top of the baobab tree, you left yourself unsupported
As all selfish men can in feats of irrationality
Coming down like a sack of wet sand
Falling in a thud, breaking your poor backbone!
Dude; be warned from spying on your wife.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
Why might I ask, doth a path lie here
Amidst thorns and angry boughs
Why path, doth thy lie here
When you leadeth nowhere
For so long hath I traveled
Encountering oh so many dangers
Nowhere may I walk
Without a vicious hand drawing up sword
Fiery hate, burning steel
Alas, another life must I rip away
For I cannot lie down and die, no!
Ah, Tamriel, may I not just live in peace
Nay, into your war drawn, a side I must choose
And follow seemingly endless, pointless paths
Much akin to the one lying before me
Ordered to **** **** ****
No peace until one or the other side is annihilated
Upon my shoulders this burden lies
Betraying many whom hath trusted me along the way
Until one way or another a corrupted man lies in control
Then off again down another dreary path
Dark Brotherhood seeking my assistance
Ah, but thou art vile murderers
Down with ye all!!
My blade vows never to rise to such hatred and angst
Dragonborn, Dragonborn! Help us please!
Fetch the Elder Scroll, Banish the evil!
Yet another burden
It would seem all of Tamriel needs at least one favor
Yet I do not shy away
For I love thee, Skyrim
I love the smiles good deeds bring, the thanks
I will continue to fight for what I believe
Until to Sovngarde's arms I am graced
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 8:26 PM UTC
O, dear friends! May I tell
a , tale of Graceful Norse God ?.
Odin or Woden of the Norse Myth
Father of gods and men on Earth
Faced much risk, to help His world
Mimir the God of Knowledge claimed
One of His eyes to share knowledge.
Suffering much studied Woden-
Runes on wood, metal and stone.
Ravens on either side of His shoulder
Fetch the news from far and wide
Thought and memory were two birds
Hugin and Munin they were called.
He got skaldic mead from the Giants
Touch of which makes anyone a poet.
Gracious Odin gave away His skills
To all gods and men of His reign.
Can you be such a heroic leader
To save our sighing Motherland?
=============================
Note:Norse Myth=Mythology of the Scandinavian area. The day of the Woden is Wednesday.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 10:56 AM UTC
lovers are burning.] balsamic ****** gallops from shame
into the overwild wetness of labial volcanoes, caramelized in musk. by love's labor.
laid bare, their bodies origami inhibition...[ lovers are burning. ]
and surrender is victorious !
Eros is speechless. maidens howl into cumulus goose-down, chewing carnal haikus
with swayed backs.... hips wide and wanton. masculine wands plow oyster beds, unmade.
they joust pearls... and [ lovers are burning ]
.... a damp conflagration; tongue stoked and windswept, conspires.
monotony is slain !
puritan harps are plucked and thrummed ! lewd harmonies anoint the perfect pitch
and a chorus moans. the ghost of sylvia plath, straddles Apollo; and he earns his wreath
surging besotted. [ lovers are burning ] and laurels forgotten.
lotharios charge the seldom road; the starfish door to Saturn's parlor.
pumping unbridled, that glistening, cloven moon. her riding crop insists !
his urgency must do.
satyrs sup salaciously and summon staves to dip in brine. they grin and grind
their sutras, stripping karma gears with silk scarves. ankles to a post, well spread...
cushions crush. flowers press... stamen fed.
nymphs clutch their serpent stones
to drain what nectar slips the slit. they ***** and throat.
they peck and pinch their quivers; knock their arrows to the purpose, half spent.
[ lovers are burning ]
eyes ablaze. nostrils fetch randy fumes of consent. mouths seek.
a pouty swamp with Spanish moss.... finds a matador
and a bull, a china shop.
lovers are burning the rough sketch of a lost god
and their angels are voyeurs
with unclean thoughts
for gospels.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
The Sun at noon to higher air,
Unharnessing the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
So braver notes the storm-cock sings
To start the rusted wheel of things,
And brutes in field and brutes in pen
Leap that the world goes round again.
The boys are up the woods with day
To fetch the daffodils away,
And home at noonday from the hills
They bring no dearth of daffodils.
Afield for palms the girls repair,
And sure enough the palms are there,
And each will find by hedge or pond
Her waving silver-tufted wand.
In farm and field through all the shire
The eye beholds the heart's desire;
Ah, let not only mine be vain,
For lovers should be loved again.
4.2k
617
Don’t put up my Thread and Needle—
I’ll begin to Sew
When the Birds begin to whistle—
Better Stitches—so—
These were bent—my sight got crooked—
When my mind—is plain
I’ll do seams—a Queen’s endeavor
Would not blush to own—
Hems—too fine for Lady’s tracing
To the sightless Knot—
Tucks—of dainty interspersion—
Like a dotted Dot—
Leave my Needle in the furrow—
Where I put it down—
I can make the zigzag stitches
Straight—when I am strong—
Till then—dreaming I am sewing
Fetch the seam I missed—
Closer—so I—at my sleeping—
Still surmise I stitch—
4.2k