"lunged" poems
They set off from white rocks,
red geraniums, blue tile,
and let the green sea
lift and drop their ships far above the white foam waves.
The stony islands that were home
were swallowed in minutes by the hungry Atlantic
but they hunted the big fish,
the giant whales with human eyes
who rolled and sang and swam
in oceans a continent away.
They came from Sao Jorge, Sao Miguel
Faial, Pico, Terceira, Horta -
Nine island emeralds set in a black volcanic chain,
neither of the old country nor the new:
Halfway there and halfway gone -
secret jewels of the Portuguese sailors.
They sailed into unknown waters,
south around tropical shores
where dragons smoked and writhed on the rocks
and birds with brilliant red and yellow plumage
rose in clouds around their heads.
Then north, and north, north again
to colder waters
where sea lions barked and lunged
at the strange massive wooden beast
that coursed the waters,
strung with brown bodies swaying
on the lines and cursing the sails.
North still they swept
casting contemptuous eyes on
the cheap turquoise waters and monstrous slow turtles
of the Sea of Cortez.
Coming up from the desert, past the palms and the yucca,
the Joshua tree and Spanish daggers,
they chased their smooth grey prey,
riding the vast Pacific on their wooden island,
herding the leviathans onto their spears,
adventurers with an audience of only
gulls and sky and seal.
Until they sailed too close one day
to a rock-strewn shoreline
and saw the golden hills.
Gnarled oaks like grandmothers from home
with orange poppy jewels at their feet,
missions strung like beads in a ruby marked rosary.
The boats slowed, ****** in by a Scylla of soil
rich and brown and loamy
waiting to be seeded with grapes and apricots
peaches, avocados, lettuce, alfalfa,
fertile and heavy with sweet promise.
And the whales sang and the lions barked and the gulls cried
but the sailors were entranced, encharmed, ensorcelled.
The treacherous sea, the mysterious deep, the stony jewels of home,
called and wept
and waited in vain for the sailors
- beached and grounded -
cutting not waves but earth,
tracking seasons not whales,
seduced by dirt.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
Today the sun was not found
only rain upon these meadows.
Thistle grew, poking through
black clouds of nightfall.
Dark wingless bird, shadow of stillness
in the quiet stars, so long ago forgiveness
and will it come, soon the dawn,
a day to breathe deeply lunged
or fly away these days born of green
ancient as a forest?
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
The crops went dry as there was no rain
A year of hard work went in vain
Tears started to flow in his heart from which he couldn't refrain
But the phoenix in him rose from this pain
With a hundred elephants strength he lunged on the field to sow another grain
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 5:07 AM UTC
Yesterday was a time for intimate tongues
Ones that lunged for lust not love
Crept through secrets on a nighttime train
And marched with a runaway parade
The lips fell softly on subtle skin
Blame of scarcity born within
Caught cheating on another plane
With a love that always fades away
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 9:17 PM UTC
Okay,
It goes like this you see.
10pm, on a late thursday evening. I was sweating like a ****** in church. I grabbed my armbands and turned on the shower. It was cold as ice to the touch, but begun to warm up eventually. Thank god my wife remembered to turn the geezer on or else I was going to slap a ***** create waves of flesh on that ugly *** face of hers.
Anyway.
After stripping down to my birthday suit, I popped on some shampoo and spreaded that **** in my hair. Creating a burning sensation, tingly, like ants crawling in my head.
Suddenly I was smacked like an unwanted child by the smell of burnt toast in the air,
with the shampoo still sitting in my hair.
I turned around and right before me, something was coming out of the plug hole, like something out of a b-rated horror movie.
Looking like my wife's homemade cooking, **** was alive, and then it lunged at me.
I tell you, if it was not for those Tom Cruise movies lecturing me in the art of total *** kicking, I would be a dead naked man with armbands in a tub, being eaten by the unholy guacamole.
You gotta believe me,
when I tell this story,
This was not all in my head,
You can't just write off what I have said.
I know it must sound insane,
But a mexican's lunch crawled out of the drain,
I beat it's *** like a drum,
like Lars Ulrich at a metallica concert ,
and sent the **** back down the hole it crawled out of.
The devil wanted to bring me down to the deep end,
It is a good thing I bought my arm bands.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
Today I went down to my Cafeteria,
As I approached I was filled with hysteria,
I saw a girl limping to the same place,
Looking at the floor as if it were a reflection of her face.
She was walking at a very slow rate,
I thought this would be a way to make a friend by fate,
I lunged for the handle to hold open the door.
I even looked over and smiled some more.
She looked at me and we met eyes,
I expected a smile in return, I saw nothing but demise.
As she walked away i started to wonder,
What happened to this girl, why she was so sundered?
I hate the people that hurt her so bad,
That when a stranger is nice, there is no reason to be glad.
I hope one day she can smile some more,
Rather than walking around staring at the floor.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC
We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet
But this is the untold story of another fair, beautiful Capulet
Rosaline as you may come to know
Met her demise at the hands of a Montague
She was the first object of dear Romeo's affection
But for dainty Rosaline, Romeo was not her selection.
He desperately tried to win her gaze.
She would only give hints to her hearts twisting maze.
Faithful to her vows of chastity
Another Montague held her key.
Benvolio stole her heart and won her affection
From first glance she was swept away, a true connection
Like the gentle lullaby of a nightingale
Her soul composed a symphony on his instrument could play
Kissed like the petals of a rose by the morning dew
A simple touch of his hand created a overwhelming sensation only they knew
Secretly inseparable, hidden romance
Their houses would not understand, so they took a very risky chance.
Until the day of that faithful fray between Capulet and Montague
Rosaline was caught in the crossfire of the two
Trying to keep the peace she lunged ahead
And at the hand of her true love she was dead.
He had not even a heartbeat to react.
Blinded by hate, a moment he could never take back.
Plagued by loss and despair
As if his lungs had been drained of air.
As the life left her eyes
He died inside.
Tragedy washed over their houses.
And in the end,
Hate won the war,
Love was left mangled and destroyed.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 8:50 AM UTC
"Do you like me?"
I asked the blue blazer.
No answer.
Silence bounced out of his books.
Silence fell off his tongue
and sat between us
and clogged my throat.
It slaughtered my trust.
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth.
We exchanged blind words,
and I did not cry,
and I did not beg,
blackness lunged in my heart,
and something that had been good,
a sort of kindly oxygen,
turned into a gas oven.
Do you like me?
How absurd!
What's a question like that?
What's a silence like that?
And what am I hanging around for,
riddled with what his silence said?
3k
Grant me forgiveness.
For my mouth had acted prematurely
and erred.
Acrid words my tongue can't retract.
My lips quiver,
pursed and scared.
Grant me relief.
For my ego had lunged.
Fueled emotions that strayed.
Sensible thoughts in mind
that my heart had betrayed.
Grant me strength and courage.
Let the next morn's sun,
illuminate the dark obstinacy of my heart.
Allow this bitter turbidity to pass.
So I could walk the hard road,
to a brand new start.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 9:29 AM UTC
i usually try
to start work
at 09:00
but today
a streak of sun
across the middle
of the floor
was so appealing
i had to lie
stretched out
and splayed
in that pool
of warmth
within seconds
of being down
the dog nosed
at my ear
and slumped
at my side
his chin resting
on my arm
perhaps
seeking closeness
the comfort of
my presence
or maybe
simply protesting
a hint that he wished
to stretch out
where i was lay
as clouds crept
across the sky
to steal our sunlight
he shifted his weight
let out a deep-lunged sigh
but stayed at my side
Apr 13, 2023
Apr 13, 2023 at 11:46 AM UTC
To earth.....
we fell
still and always
our footfalls together
mingle, entwined
our steps walk
the vastness of
time
To sea.....
sinking we swim
drowsily dream, lulling under
salty sea air breathes our lungs
Water weaves of dreams - bright distant sails
calmly blues, red rains
of willawaw gales
To air.....
deep the breaths
beat our hearts - to deepen
Expanding empty spaces - fully lunged our love
contracting smothered, small - undone
To fire.....
passion seeks it's flame,
billows the burning blue
We seek ever close, not to touch
lest we are consumed
by love
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 11:56 AM UTC
Split mind. Split soul. Half of him loves his family. His intelligent daughter, energetic son, and beautiful wife. The other half loves nothing at all. Not himself, not his immorality, not even the toxins that he constantly ejects into his body. A modern day Jekyll and Hyde. To have a split personality is no easy taking. How does one love a single being with two men trapped inside. Knowing you will only be thought about with half the effort. Only known half of the time. Only loved with half the heart. Knowing this could drive a woman equally as crazy. While his careless half went out for another night of binge drinking and fornication, she was left at home. Well honestly, doing the same. One day it all became to much. In one of her drunken rants she grabs a pair off kitchen sheers. "Honey, where are you going?" she asked, not haven made up her mind on her next step. "Who the hell are you?" He replied. In a fit of drunken rage she charges after him. Determined that she could sheer away his lesser half. She screamed. He ran. She followed. Cornered, he had no where to flee. He snapped back. "Baby, what are you doing with the scissors?" , he asked frightened. He saw the look in her eyes. She was no longer there. The rage and fury had taken over her. "Babe, put the scissors down." He pleaded. She didn't understand what he was asking. Whether she couldn't comprehend that it was her husband back in control of his body, or if she just didn't care anymore, fed up with it all, no one knows. She lunged at him with the sheers in hand. When the officer arrived they saw the women curled in the corner smiling. "Did it work? Is he my husband again?" The mans body was mutilated. His skull was open. Half his brain was gone. His chest was open as well. Only half a heart. The women was taken away, convinced she did it all out of love. The children were placed in foster care. Both scarred for life from the events that they witnessed. And the man, well let's just say his partying days are over as well. Half hearted love kills.
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
I watched him
sneer at his
plan gone a-rye
he was uptight
and outspoken;
the worst kind
as the ribbons
tore and frayed
he gritted his teeth
until it was too
much and he lunged
at the young man,
grabbed him by the
throat while screaming
"IV'E HAD IT GOD ******
"I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU
MANGY *******
many years later
I saw the uptight
outspoken man
on a street corner,
laughing at clouds
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
Under the grieving moon
we whispered secrets long kept.
Beneath the roaring waves
that drowned us as...
we quietly wept.
We spoke in hushed tones
of promises made to last.
Our cracked voices
melded with the echoes of a time...
of a fond memory in the past.
Water in our mouths
with words we jousted and lunged.
Heard only as hapless gurgles
and inaudible whimpers.
Unparried speculations
unsheathed and then plunged.
We cupped our wounds and retreated
knowing that we each drew blood.
We kissed with our eyes,
broke down walls
and welcomed the flood.
We wiped our cheeks
now smeared hot with tears.
Where did we err?
Who do we blame...
for dishevelled years?
We would never know...
but we must learn.
Time had shown us our mistakes
but our hearts had taught us
eternal love that burns.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
again and again
the morning comes undone
and we march -
stuff-lunged into crunch
and mule love
blunder-bused and lump-kin
but for always
a short ton
of long grief
tweaking the snip
of a dead sow's ear
to reap a jewel
from a dead
mind.
but here
i love you like a war in Spain
spiking the Punch and Judy/
a fugue grief on a tide of dark joy
slavering at the haunches
of a Pegasus.
Blindfolded.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 4:15 AM UTC
Dangerous dragon eyes
burn the stars
and scorch the skies
as the warrior lets
her silver blades fly,
Bronze skin
battle maiden,
******* in chainmail,
spear and shield
on her back
as she tracks
the beasts
who attacked
random villages.
Like a Valkyrie
she walked past me
with death on her breath.
All power and confidence,
she passes on to face this
monster in the darkness.
She moved like
a ballet dancer
rushing in
and striking him
in the place where
his scale skin was thin.
then rolled back
before the dragon’s attack.
Fire and fury
bare skin scorching
forcing her
to retreat
but only for
a solitary
second.
Claws cutting,
tail swinging,
scales scraping,
scratches stinging.
The ground
running
with the blood of
both combatants.
One arm
a ragged mess
of jagged flesh.
One dragon eye
destroyed while
sulphur and smoke
choked the breath
from her parched throat.
Long neck charging
as she parried
in a twirling fashion
letting the dragon’s head pass.
It moved quick
but she was faster
and matched that ********
primal fury.
Short silver
sharp dagger
nested itself
slightly above the neck
as the force of the animals
violent
movement
cut itself
making a long sick ****
as it lunged past fast
and finally fell
in defeat.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 10:39 AM UTC
My childhood was a lonely one,
sat dust-lunged in my room,
while others had fun,
I'd sit in the gloom.
Surrounded, with old books and toys,
football, at all, wasn't my thing.
Not 'one of the boys',
my own lonely king.
Ruled empires, of plastic and prose,
my imagination, sensational flights of ideas!
It actively rose,
along with my fears.
Oh! But if chance would be given,
to redo those days in new ways,
same way I'd live 'em,
in radiant haze.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
UNCHARISMATICALLY, he frowned his displeasure.
On his hunting ground, the rough-coated trooper lunged
into a human intruder.
Predation was a constant chore where extracting food
could be hard work in a competitive and heavily armed environment.
Feeling lucky he grinned, grinding his fused toothplates,
then grabbed and pulverized the passing meal, aware that
overgrazing could destroy his future.
Apr 10, 2010
Apr 10, 2010 at 3:04 AM UTC
Mildew clutched tight,
hollow-boned, manic thrusting,
marionette-faced, barrow-lunged,
nails bit to the bone-gristle,
lips raw with spit-polish,
redacted eyes, redacted eyes --
two palpable creatures,
transient drifters of soulspeck,
one unraveling the other constructing
one unraveling the other constructing
forever,
sallow truth would dissolve skin.
Lips read: founder a self.
Rusty copper
with adamantine eyes.
Steel core, unbroken by absence.
Drown in opposite directions,
oceanwater salve, yes
calloused tongues jostle,
ribbed in salt and rust.
Unlaced corset,
striped sweater,
grunged trainline veins
run on endless.
A clock,
abandoned in the middle,
I think once
it very much mattered.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC
There once was a berry muffin that sat on a plate
I was ready to be fed, the muffin ready to be ate
But alas, Lucky had his eye on the prize
He lunged, canine jaws were open wide
GULP! A bittersweet vanish, it was too late!
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
A car passed at speed the middle aged driver
unhappy at the narrow miss.
He shouted out in an abusive manner
not realizing the window was open.
The four youths looked at each other
saying ' he'll regret that brother'.
The man did realize something was wrong
as the car sped away he saw them turn.
What had he done who were these guys
seeing their car he took another route.
But they were soon coming up behind
entering a road that was tree lined.
Busy traffic swerving to avoid being hit
their car smashed into his rear.
Then their powerful motor side swiped him
hitting the now total wreck.
His seat belt protecting his very life
as one came at him with a knife.
Trapped he could not move an inch
sound of sirens could be heard.
Yet the youth lunged in the open window
slashing his already broken arm.
Terrified he shouted out loudly again
now in so much pain!
Somehow getting back in their car
into nowhere they went.
As help arrived on the once quiet road
residence coming out in force.
The case months on not yet solved
nobody wanted to get involved!
The youths are still out there somewhere!
The Foureyed Poet.
Apr 26, 2011
Apr 26, 2011 at 1:46 PM UTC
Fleas as a breed are troublesome
And some much more than most
There’s a vegan flea that lives near me
By the title of Archibald Post
He has a peculiar aptitude
For the swift calculation of odds
So he hunts for his prey on the high street
Leaving peas sound asleep in their pods.
When he leapt up and nibbled the ankle
Of a bloke as he ambled on by
He parked his parasitic posterior
And gazed up at the open sky
The bitten man stopped and scratched an itch
And harassed his smitten limb
When a blind man with a Labrador
Careered straight into him
He fell over and dropped his hamburger
The dog lunged and caught it with speed
But leading his man into traffic
Was the price of this dastardly deed
A car swerved and walloped a lamppost
Which fell through the front of a florist
The bulb set alight an entire display
Like a fire in a miniature forest
A girl in the office above the street
Grabbed her phone to call out some help
When she dropped it in her anxiety
And it fractured her toe with a yelp
She lent on the windowsill urgently
And knocked off and apple she’d saved
Its descent to the street was in moments complete
And the apple was thoroughly paved
Archibald smiled, breakfast was served
**
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
The Notorious Natalie sat in her chair plotting the downfall of Nurse Agnes. She did not notice her quarry coming down the hall as her mind was absorbed in plots of murder. Having only recently attained sobriety, she took the picky Nurse Agnes as being a sanctimonious old bat. Startled, she looked up into that very old nurse's face, and lunged at her with her icepick in hand. Unfortunately for Natalie, being forgetful as she was, she tripped over the walker she was using. The ice pick entered her easily and put an end to Notorious Natalie's plotting for good.
Thus Ends a Terrible Story.
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 4:18 PM UTC
1st Stanza:
"When My Life Hath All But Lost, A Barren Fleet Of A Weeping Man"..."And The Moon Hath To My Eye Lost, With Several Journeys Of No Strand"
2nd Stanza:
"Within These Four Walls I Thus Tarried/ Hoping That Tis Gaze May Fetch A Glimpse Of Her/ And The Good Old Memories We Lived On Various Siege/ Were All But Gone By Wind's Chaff!"
3rd Stanza:
"Though The Winds May Frown/ a Soul Left To Die Hath No Loss/ Hath I Besieged Naught My Queen And Crown/ Words Need Not Say Much!// For This Sea Where Endless Hath But Drowned/ For What Awaits I'd Gladly Give With No Cost!"
4th Stanza:
"Alas! My Paddling Reached Me To The Shores/ And To Behold My Eyes/ A Figure Dressed In Red Top;// Could It Be She Whom My Soul Doth Lunged?/ Nor She That My Efforts Find?"
Last Stanza:
"Behold As I Heaved Slowly/ Ripping The Veils Off Her Head/ She Was Non Other Than My Leslie/ Her Beauty Which Hath For Years So Fair A Spotless Sheet/ Once Again Returned A New Leaf!"
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC