"jaguar" poems
It was the twilight of the iguana.
From the rainbow-arch of the battlements,
his long tongue like a lance
sank down in the green leaves,
and a swarm of ants, monks with feet chanting,
crawled off into the jungle,
the guanaco, thin as oxygen
in the wide peaks of cloud,
went along, wearing his shoes of gold,
while the llama opened his honest eyes
on the breakable neatness
of a world full of dew.
The monkeys braided a ******
thread that went on and on
along the shores of dawn,
demolishing walls of pollen
and startling the butterflies of Muzo
into flying violets.
It was the night of the alligators,
the pure night, crawling
with snouts emrging from ooze,
and out the sleepy marshes
the confused noise of scaly plates
returned to the ground where they began.
The jaguar brushed the leaves
with a luminous absence,
the puma runs through the branches
like a forest fire,
while the jungle's drunken eyes
burn from inside him.
The badgers scratch the river's
feet, scenting the nest
whost throbbing delicacy
they attack with red teeth.
And deep in the huge waters
the enormous anaconda lies
like the circle around the earth,
covered with ceremonies of mud,
devouring, religious.
18k
Every week we bypass each other
As if neither of our existences
Matter much to one another
From across the room
We gaze at each other
Time further elapsing
How my mouth just waters
By the way you sway your hips
As you perform your **** walk
**** Would I ever love
To softly smack that backside
The way you flaunt drives me wild
And then you turn to flash
That lovely trademark smile
Seducing me over the edge
Purring like a naughty kitten I say:
'I want you...'
'I need you...'
'Come play with me I don't bite.'
Upon my lap she jumped
In her sexiest tone she whispered
'Let our bodies take the shape of lust.'
© 2011 (All rights reserved)
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 1:16 AM UTC
Sunday:
Ant Pills
Bear Traps
Cobra Feet
Monday:
Dolphin Lungs
Eel Soup
Frog Limbs
Tuesday:
Gecko Suits
Horse Pie
Inchworm ***
Wednesday:
Jaguar Barbed
Koala Beer
Lynx Lynch
Thursday:
Monkey Chips
Narwhal Fashions
Otter Drugs
Friday:
Porcupine Rehab
Quail Map
Roadrunner Piano
Saturday:
Slug Party
Turkey Slop
Urchin See
Sunday:
Vulture Guns
Walrus Tongues
X No
Monday:
Yellowjacket Fever
Zebra Clowns
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:08 PM UTC
Oh yes! I had plans to woo you
with roses and chocolates
and other mushy make-up
that might just rev up your fireworks
Yet I knew deep inside
it wouldn't work so well.
So jugular it was
condoms and plastic roses
knotted in shoelaces
painted and welded on a metal frame
worded: I will take you
to take me: Now!
But you laughed
and blew the condoms into balloons
and spray painted the roses in silver
and I used the shoelaces
to hang my head in creative shame!
Yet when we met on the deck of union
for the first time
the sparks lit up the nightsky
and we slept curled up around each other
like question marks
Thats how we bought tickets
to forever
Crazy?
I waited-you came!
Author Notes
Most enjoyable poem today.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Webster was much possessed by death
And saw the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.
Daffodil bulbs instead of *****
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.
Donne, I suppose, was such another
Who found no substitute for sense,
To seize and clutch and penetrate;
Expert beyond experience,
He knew the anguish of the marrow
The ague of the skeleton;
No contact possible to flesh
Allayed the fever of the bone.
. . . . .
Grishkin is nice: her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.
The couched Brazilian jaguar
Compels the scampering marmoset
With subtle effluence of cat;
Grishkin has a maisonette;
The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not in its arboreal gloom
Distil so rank a feline smell
As Grishkin in a drawing-room.
And even the Abstract Entities
Circumambulate her charm;
But our lot crawls between dry ribs
To keep our metaphysics warm.
7.2k
Kumusta na
dati kong kaibigan?
Masyadong mabilis ang
ating mga pinagdaanan
Kumusta na
ang dating pangarap
na binuo ng grupo
na binuo dito
Wasak
Wasak ang puso
"Tulo ang dugo!"
Sabi nga ng mga bata sa kanto
Sana bata na lang ulit ako
Kung bata lang ako
Naglalaro lang siguro ako
Tumatakbo ng mabilis
Para hindi mahabol ng taya
Sabagay...
Magpahanggang ngayon naman
tumatakbo pa rin ako
ng mabilis
para habulin ang mga pangarap
kong
kasing bilis ng jaguar
kung tumakbo
Teka't hinihingal ako...
Andyan ka pa pala
Kumusta nga?
Kumusta tayo?
Babalik pa ba?
O hahayaan na lamang ba nating
lumipas ang panahon
na tayo'y hindi man lang
naging masaya
Kasama ang isa't isa
Kumakanta
Sumasayaw
Sa saliw ng gitara
Sa hampas ng magtatambol
Sa iyong boses
Na minsa'y aming naging boses
Kumusta ka?
Parang ang tagal-tagal na
Mula ng huling pagkikita
Kumusta?
Puro na lang tanong
Wala namang totoong sagot
Sa tanong na 'yan.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
The jaguar of your tongue
Slithers and stalks to desolate locations
Unburdened by the guilt of temptations
Burning deep in the gullet of desires
Forsaken by the drawings of cave paintings
Clawed ragged breath discipline
Polaroid flawlessness beneath the Blood Moon
One wild summer
Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 12:31 AM UTC
The Jaguar sits
A regal pose
Even though
All spots exposed
He remains
Throughout—composed
Royalty suits
These kingly throes
Eyes so hungry
Fueled with woes
Darkness caress
His thoughts of more
All small fingers
Jabbing point
Smiles and scream
Not fear—delight
This is not
A place of fright
No place to hide
In broad daylight
Freedom calls
But is not heard
The thought is
Lurking—absurd
Escape has not occurred
Even to the captive birds
The noble Jaguar
Does not pace
He looks upon the crowd
Disgrace—
All those faces
Glass cannot erase
If only he could break
Out of this prison space
His deep imagination
Swirls and swells with thought
If only his true freedom
Could perhaps be bought
The first thing he would do
Is capture one said face
And use it as only
Claws could change—erase
He looks on
With animalistic intentions
Licks his chops
And opens his jaws
The crowd gasps as one
As the noble beast bares his teeth
—And yawns
The jaguar too kingly to stoop
To animalistic pursuits
He knows that he cannot escape
The beast so long ago was tamed
Long ago he lost his pride
On three square meals a day
—Inside
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 12:46 PM UTC
Cole Phillips
A warm jungle night.
A jaguar stalking its prey with fright.
The sound of the light rain and wind.
The lonely ant eater has no idea what is lurking in the dark.
A perfect target for such beast.
The night grows long and the jaguar finds it's place to strike.
The jaguar preparing for a long battle.
When in reality, no battle is needed at all.
The jaguar kills its prey and feasts
Cole Phillips
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
Here she come
Don't catch eyes
She's a jaguar in disguise
Back on my feet
Money in my pocket
The apparatus
Of social status
He buys drinks for the girls all night
And he goes home alone and over
She's peered down dark Chicago alleys
She's driving and planting her garden
Sunday afternoons-so hot touching in
The parking lot.
Blue skies Cloudless
She. Is in my passenger sest
Her bare feet beneath her in her seat
I swear a kiss I'd long in order
Patient lips
Patient trigger finger
Ive thrown up the poison
The definition of her hair up
And a neck
Sunglasses dark
Blue veined
Blowing kiss bullets
In the rain
She's dancing to the radio
She's playing
Shaking like a fool
A gun to my head /I don't twitch
Looking into the eyes
Lisyening. Waiting
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 12:08 AM UTC
His fur catches twinkling light
spots motifs hypnotize.
He paces the cage, restless.
The black claw wants
to tear open raw flesh.
Pulsing dense warmth
flows in the heavy air.
To get closer—
just for a while,
to look into gold-red, cold eyes
To touch the mystery,
to ask what it feels
when it rips apart the skull
and slurps the fading beingness…
Is curiosity worth it?
Nature is no accident,
Nothing is left to mere chance.
Stare too long into his eyes,
the barriers come down…
Is that you, or is that I?
An ominous gaze is a gift
that unveils the fated future.
If they open the door
He reacts without control.
His instincts unerringly
detect unspoken warnings.
Run away,
Turn to stone,
Scream or Faint if you want.
The shrinking, narrow space
puts everyone to the test
in a world of large and small cages.
Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 6:35 AM UTC
The warmth of your lover holds
An infant given no choice
Behold, deliverance into a new world
Hard work, destined just for the ordinary
Raised in great love and care
Left fear in his eyes, to decide how he would live his life
Greatness sprouts in the deepest of dreams
Boundaries kept around, without a sign of being free
Swelling inside, was a concealed beast
The coal furred animal, he holds
Cold deep black eyes, with a mouth made to roar
Once free from entrapment
This Jaguar will pounce from the soul
Out into the real world and soar
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 8:46 AM UTC
the jaguar is a cat from the basin of brazil
just to see this creature makes the time stand still
such a skillful hunter with elegance and grace
a very skillful cat in this jungle place
they hunt for there prey there variety is strong
animals and turtles whatever comes along
they will climb a tree like a little thrush
sitting there in wait setting there ambush
they will quickly pounce with one almighty bite
thats how he kills his prey when the time is right
this creature from the amazon is such a lovely site
filled with so much grace and fills me with delight
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
oh beauty, intertwine
lace around me
in midst of black shadows
i taste serenity in the nectar ,
trickling down your cotton skin
smooth like the wind on my cheek
don't let the daylight come
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 8:30 PM UTC
So
from your hand,
I learned to drink the light...
A residue of dahlias
in their late summer blood,
rimmed white with the fluid evening,
the soul, some wild falcon
folded in golden lullabies
of nightingale acoustics...
Eclipsed by the gentle pathos
of the body, shining
as I leave it behind,
crying in its dark thorns,
some forlorn fragment shudders
in the silver embrace you lace with calm...
As it laps
into that crumpled karma
and dreams it was once
a jaguar of dark passages,
held in the long hands of sorrow,
see, these clavicles emerge through orchids...
And a liquid resurrection
envelope the earth you bathe
from the fugitive gesture of wings,
so, it was in these black,
grim prairies of the soul...
Where I
at last learned
to drink the light from your hand....
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 1:32 PM UTC
Call me fox and I will call you Jaguar
I normally walk the paths
gawking at every creature I pass
squawking loudly, regurgitating my wisdom distastefully
I spoke like coyote
foolisly
I continued on my way, in hopes of a creature large and as fearsome
as fearsome as you
Jaguar
to strike respect and fear into my heart and my actions
so that my meaning would not be soiled by my uncomely behavior
as I stalked you for days on the forrest floor
looking, watching your muscles flow over your skeleton
in a magestically dangerous motion
You can feel me
in the place all creatures feel, sense, and connect
as one
there is unspoken understanding between you and I
oh powerful warrior
and I am to know my place
in the order
you are beautiful and fascinating to me
a worthy objective on my walk
you are a specimen of the wonder of the world
of the god-like integrity and compassion
that penetrates the soul
you leave the marrow intact within the bone
for me to treasure
for my mouth to salivate and consume in haste
but in awe of the judgement you pass
the power bestowed unto you without a single act of self rightousness
we sleep on the same earthen bed
we dream from the same deep sleep
we touch, our stories, our tales of survival
they reach one another intuitively
and so long as I mind my place
silence my ego
I will forever walk beside you, following in your gracious example
as we venture deep with in the forrests density
living vicariously beside one another
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
“We love what we don’t know, what it’s lost already…”
Jorge Luis Borges
I hang on to your portrait, in front of me;
among candles, copal, and all those things you worship in a mexican altar to the death.
You are my invisible jaguar,
you appear before me, between dreams, and I fell alive.
Full of wounds,
lacerated by my absence,
I put your portrait in front of the altar that my mind has conceived,
and you seem to hold the paradise's secret in your hands,which are made of ashes.
Then, according to the mexican & catholic tradition,
like a rural priest,
you start to draw a cross, made of the ashes of your magic, sacred hands.
The smell of the whole,
sacred being that exists in this spiritual plane,
lays on your profile, so beautiful embodied in your portrait,
which I prefer above any other reflex.
Finally, when I think on your lips,
is when I stop believing in anything else,
and just keep on holding the devotion that I worship to your portrait...
Then I chase each single one of the naked,
flaccid,
vulnerable memories of you,
trying to protect me.
I think of you,
so profoundly and vividly right now,
that my skin transpires,
bleeds,
my muscles are tense,
and my mouth recites your name with all and its last name.
I wish that, under a supernatural power,
you're also thinking of me, at this precise moment,
and that some thought can touch me below my skirt,
and make the skin of my white buttocks to bristle.
White –Blanca in Spanish-; the name of one of my childhood’s friend.
And the same color of your so polish, european skin.
The rainforest of your sacred Chiapas.
I need you excruciatingly.
Like a dagger into my body.
I will like to see your portrait being devoured by the flames,
but I do not have the courage to throw it to the fire,
for its image will become strongly painted in my mind,
and the effect that you exerts towards me it will be more powerful.
Dangerous.
I had a dream a couple of hours ago,
it was me,
so earthly,
being blessed by your voice,
and the tattoo you have on your left arm, being kissed by my simple mouth.
Our skin,
together,
united,
white,
is the wall where the moon lays on,
Lays in our bodies making love,
in a black hammock,
conjuring with our pneuma to the whispering of the rainforest...
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
I’m lost in Rome,
all the roads have brought me here.
I’m searching for home,
Holding a picture of it near.
I step into the metronome,
I enter with an identity in my pockets.
I speak to the garden gnome,
He’s asking if I’d like to buy a silver locket.
At a legato tempo,
10. The metronome keeps ticking.
My lips only stay chapped,
Simply because I won’t stop licking them.
“I’m looking for the Lucky Fix.
The Shaved Jaguar told me this is the place.”
The Gnome haggles me up in my face,
“Oh please, I know all the old tricks!
I now control your brain stem.
You have a long way to go! You’ve been trapped!”
At an Allegro tempo;
20. The Metronome keeps tocking.
On the stage,
The Kangaroos are still kick-boxing.
Breaking free of their cage,
The only price is to make you dance.
“I seek to barter for some potions",
They want to know, "So Why have I been cursed?”
The Hooting Owl, offers them a grand notion.
“Keeping thinking that and you might just burst.”
30.The metronome stops on the off-beat, .
“Where is the Lucky Fix?”
I began to grow impatient!
“Don’t you first need your feet?
Your priorities need to be layered bricks.
Your addiction to gratification will lead you to defeat!
You can find the matches in the Fire Station.
I know some of the tricks. That’s a good place to start.”
The Goblins are looking for the heart.
40. With a Presto Tempo
You must reset the Metronome.
TJW 2013
.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 12:37 PM UTC
Afraid of the dark
Afraid of the shadows
Watching from behind
Afraid of the sparrows.
Afraid of the night,
Afraid of the flight.
Hiding behind the curtains,
Afraid of moonlight.
Afraid of the trees,
Afraid of the breeze.
He didnt like his place,
Afraid of the seas.
Afraid of the jaguar,
Afraid to go too far.
Hated the idea of living,
Afraid of the scars.
Afraid of the oceans,
Of the ships sailing by.
Afraid of the sunrise,
Also Afraid of the sky.
Afraid of the drums,
Afraid of the beats.
He told like liked competition but
Afraid to sow the seeds.
Afraid of the cross,
Afraid of the shine.
Hated to boast himself a lot
Afraid of the rhyme.
Afraid of the colours,
Afraid of the rainbow.
Colour blind he wishes he was
Afraid of the world .
Afraid of the melody,
Afraid of the songs.
Broken strings of the guitar,
Afraid of the strong.
Afraid of the screams,
Afraid of the dreams.
Wasn't sure of his abilities,
Afraid of the teams.
Afraid of the paradise,
Afraid to rise.
He wanted death,
Afraid of the lies.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
the jaguar is a cat from the basin of brazil
just to see this creature makes the time stand still
such a skillful hunter with elegance and grace
a very skillful cat in this jungle place.
they hunt for there prey there variety is strong
animals and turtles whatever comes along
they will climb a tree like a little thrush
sitting there in wait setting there ambush.
they will quickly pounce with one almighty bite
thats how he kills his prey when the time is right
this creature from the amazon is such a lovely site
filled with so much grace and fills me with delight
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
Before the time we know that’s writ
Before the things we’ve heard of it
Back in the first creation fit
Four sisters pretty, oft would sit
Together and discuss the times
And passing moons and passing tides
And the task to which each tries
To ensure the world was lit
With the color or the season
A certain gift was given each one
For a rare and special reason
To paint anew the baby planet
The oldest, cold and fair, she was
Skin white as cloudy sky of gauze
Hair darker than a jaguar’s paws
For Winter’s breathing she was fit
The second, burned just as a fire
Hair red as hatred and desire
Who, gifted artists still inspires
In Autumn, colors all submit.
The third was golden as the sun
Hair bright and body made to run
Eyes blue as ocean’s storms undone
Into summer months she’d flit
The youngest, who awoke the ground
Skin dark as heartwood, deepest found
Green eyes that grow ‘til they surround
The earth with springtime, every bit
Rules for such were very few
Only one they truly knew
Don’t pick the flower 'way from view
Upon the tallest tower hid
For many years they played together
Through every storm and every weather
Bringing seasons like a feather
Any time they thought was fit
Then one day while making garlands
Of pretty flowers wove to form bands
Said,“Hid away, the best of all stands?”
So they dared to go observe it
Beautiful, and true it stood
Like purity and things that could
Move heart of stone and even wood.
“Such art, alone, should never sit!”
So they plucked the only flower
From its grave and gentle tower
All the plants around it cower’d
Knowing powers sleeping in it
Suddenly the ladies shot
Around the world to different spots
Just out of hearing and eyeshot
Thus, the cost of crime commit
Today they wander far apart
Thoughts of sisters in their heart
Work with no end, just new start
Away from friendships benefit
So child when tempted to commit
A sin against which has been writ
Think of four sisters who once could sit
Now wander, from each other split.
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 10:24 PM UTC
the Sun’s about to set,
I can hear Jaguars in the uncomfortably near distance,
and I’m thinking they can come and get me I'm ready,
because Death by Jaguar wouldn’t be a bad way to go in this instance,
It would be glorious,
the kind of death that I would not protest,
I’m ready for my glory “Jaguar Spirit come and get me!”,
lead me to the Underworld and introduce me to this infamous character called Death,
yes,
I’m ready to go,
but apparently God isn’t quite ready for me yet,
see this isn't my first subconscious attempt,
at expediting my inevitable destiny with Death.
Still as much as I beg,
and as lost as I feel,
I find my way out of the jungle,
and stumble upon a Guatamalan encampment where I’m fed a good meal,
oh well,
maybe next time I shall be food for a Jaguar,
and then through my sacrifice I’ll become a legend,
and my story will get told and my poems read around future camp fires,
The Tale of The Poet Who Took Death by Jaguar,
as traumatic as it sounds it honestly wasn’t a bad way to go,
or so he had thought while finding himself lost,
alone with no one but that Jaguar deep in the Guatemalan jungle…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 7:41 AM UTC
Beyond the farms
of my troubled fears,
a path weaves through
icy slivers of bone,
glossed by Winter’s breath,
who sits enthroned
aside her onyx pond,
reflecting.
“The challenge you face is twofold:
confront me and confront yourself.”
A black jaguar saunters from
her ivory throne, holding
my gaze in the vice
of its assured indifference.
“That which you seek may not be found,
but earned.”
My dagger shakes,
frozen tightly in
my sweating palm.
The lush snow absorbs
the crush of my knees
as the jaguar closes.
“Your unearthed answer, clean of instinct or knowledge,
bids closer reflection.”
At arm’s length,
the jaguar stops.
“Change does not ride the wind,
for the wind has direction.”
The jaguar’s breath
warms my quivering lips,
and I exhale
my unbidden thoughts.
My eyes, still fixed in place,
are not aware
of my rising hand.
“To understand is to forgive,
and to forgive is to love.”
Her words chill the blood
pooling in my outstretched palm,
quivering closer to my host.
The ferric scent tickles its whiskers,
and the jaguar laps up my gift.
“Love, and you'll belong.”
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 12:54 PM UTC
Every cell in my body
trembles with anticipation
as the curandero croons
ayy ooo wah hee….
….time to come and see me…
as my stomach settles from the purge
of the exlixir of the vine of the soul
I have dared myself to drink
as my limbs begin to vibrate
as I am seized by the hair
lifted right up off the ground
in the arms of great angels
who look like alien jaguar dancers
with huge luminescent eyes
and funny hats
who live in the emerald jungle
where the concoction I took
grows entwined
with my desperate hope
that this isn’t a scam
that there really is another world
or maybe galaxies too
but then I realize
I’m so far away from home
I know I’ll never get back
because I see him up ahead
it’s God with his hair gloriously ablaze
sitting on a grand throne
at the end of a great stone road
like the Roman’s Appian Way
suspended in pulsing interstellar space
and there is a line of people
stretching for light years
all hoping for a sustainable miracle
all holding tickets to see him
and each one walks up to him
heads bowed
and he caresses their hair
and he says I love you
but really, I just work here.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 4:49 AM UTC
Erased is everything as we go into the jungle
No cloths are needed our body's together can cuddle
You hear the birds as they sing a love song to set the mood
My inner lion roars as i begin to touch you
You at first want it slow ,OK with me
So as i go inside you i become the jaguar ready to feast
Going slow inside you that is what you want
The bear came out of me and your juices i begin to hunt
Erased is everything as we go into the jungle
No cloths are needed we can just cuddle
I turn you over nice and slow i thought u would like
How the bull came out me and our body's begin to fight
But don't get too excited everything is gentle until
The inner lion in me just couldn't keep still
My inner lion roars and things speed up
No longer making love we begin to ****
The gorilla bust out your chest as well as mine
There is so much grabbing and holding no one took there time
I become the mosquito and **** you dry
You are satisfied all the animals in us hide
We both lay down and begin to cuddle
Go to sleep to reveal our *** in the jungle
Apr 15, 2010
Apr 15, 2010 at 3:46 AM UTC