"poaching" poems
The pathway to the hidden falls,
greenest trees and ivy walls,
Humid day and rain a threat,
Forest living, thick and wet.
Pebbles on this path to be,
Never ending, fast to me.
Flip flops make an obstacle,
For me to keep the pace we go.
The peach in hand is almost eaten,
When roaring waters reveal this Eden,
The water falls so quick approaching
seems to stick my memory's poaching.
We climb the uphill train of rocks,
more like boulders, need for socks,
Majesty miracle's tickle my senses,
Like watching babe ruth swing for the fences.
Something here is overpowering
behind the force field something is flowering,
Wet smooth rocks lay geometric,
something alive and something electric.
Native American premonitions,
Thoughts of the beginning of all of this swishin',
Waterfall dreams sparkle like diamonds,
Foam and water, slippery minded.
Brain chemical explosion.
Somethings been bound.
Something is gone
something I found
Burned in my imagination
is this place that I visited
on my vacation.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
the elephant is lovely endangered now is he
he cant roam around now no longer is he free
they are under threat from the poaching war
gone now has there freedom that they had before
all they know is danger there lives now in distress
getting killed for nothing leaving just a mess
cutting of there tusks disfiguring there face
leaving them to suffer is nothing but disgrace
such a lovely creature it is such a shame
all the poachers see is money for there game
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
Sky blue, purple shade
The finest silhouette
Complaints,
Oppression
Negativity
Whining
Summarized in two words
Black thought
Dark mahogany rocking chair by the porch
Reminiscing the folk days
Projected in all shades of grey
Gloomy settings but a carved smile on his face
As he lost grandma Grace to the hands of less melanin masks
Trampling over the rosy ambiance that still lingered till this day
Going back and forth in that rock motion
Wisdom poaching, selena Johnson
Still taking on the black thought
I will simply have to clean my basement, all the crap and negativity idly poking me
Do feel my wrath worth the nation 's pathetic despair
Don’t think I will not clean this attic that has false hopes smothering your arrogant smile
Wait for the Hannibal in me to shut you down
As I closely walk beside that butterfly
Resting calmly in my palm
Waiting for the murderer in me to crash its living shine
But you,wait for the Hannibal in me to shut you down
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
The ******* is bashful only when he lacks control
Vulture poaching ***** as his victim
Hands like constrictors, slither up your clothes
Hidden smile, scaled, behind a venom veil
He talks in toxins, and when the will has rotted;
Ties in knots; consuming whole a struggled “no”
Jun 4, 2021
Jun 4, 2021 at 2:37 AM UTC
Open myself up to you
Like a gentlemen grabbing the door
This felt so special
Things were perking up
Happy, had something to look forward to
Only to be let down by insecurities
Am I the only one who's strong
Must I carry the weight of my burdens and those around me
Must I guide you down the path, as if you didn't know
Must I answer questions before they are asked
Must I be 20 steps ahead, as if 10 wasn't enough
Must I be held to a standard of perfection
Must I
Apparently I must
My strength is shadowed by your fears
How much evidence is needed to show I'm different
What must I do
Tell me
Explain to me as if I've never heard before
Every detail, so I may tread softly
For I fear your insecurities may trap our growth
Poaching on our happiness
I've shown my selflessness, as if theses words don't paint that picture
I've been down to one knee as if you were royalty
In attempts to prove my loyalty
I need to be shown you feel the same
Blinded by your actions
You've let me down
Broken me down
But help me rebuild
Open your eyes, loosen your jaw and open your ears
Speak to me your ideas to rebuild the rubble at our feet
So we may protect ourselves from the elements of error and fear
Prove this to me
For I can't do this alone
Travel this two lane road with me
So we may reach our destination together
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 12:34 PM UTC
Lamentation; infelicity through neurotransmitters
Passing fleetly; swift but disturbed
Grids of brainwaves for the degraded
Overhead LED view is negroided
Chapter 1 Migraines;
A klaxon that grains into migraine
From there on out, strolling convulsion lane
Deriving from deception; antibodies start to lead loosely
Throe after throe I choose not to fuss
Laceration in hemikrania is conversing with the rest of my body,
Frequent as days turn nightly
I host the severe megrimly
Chapter 2 Vomiting;
A horendous bile builds up in my throat
Moaning like a ghoul; I banish the gloats
Disgorging from nothing, Heaving and heaving the dry
Although I force myself not, all the nosh turns into emit rye
Vital fluid very crimson soon came
From the cranium, I dislose, head pain
Frequent as the waves harsh blows
I host a ***** hose
Chapter 3 Tumor;
A neoplasm underneath I've found out
Unvisible but there; my flesh will start swelling undoubt
Below I feel like a mutant
All putant and disformed
Like globular liquids dripping from sewage waste
As long as I can still haste
Crescendo and surge won't ado
Frequent as traffic builds a rush hour
I host a cyst that is sour
Chapter 4 Deaf;
An absense of all frequencies
I daze everso daily;
Feeling like an earless statue; sound unaccompanied
Missing the wind's howls that ululate,
Clamors and bellows that spoliate
I can't sight the same verbiage
Without sonancy to inflicit, I see one big mirage
Frequent as birth enfolds
I host a soundless toll
Chapter 5 Brain Cancer;
A malignant fate told today
Disease spreading like a machine,
Programmed to enquire all it knows
A gruesome and hateful dose;
Withering casually away
Grown apart of, I'm the prey
As we hunt the beasts'
An invisible naked eye is poaching
Frequent as a house infested
I host a cancerous clothing
Chapter 6 Death;
A termination soon to unfold
I am as finished and ruined as story told
Biological function ending
Senescence through spending
User maat I haven't seen all wanted
Alas I am greatful for what has been daunted
Frequent as a death anew
I host a dissolution
My evolution; through.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
We are the savages,
normalities stand from a distance and secretly admire
the domesticated eyeing in envy to our resilience of society's taming shackles
so they reject us with pointed accusing fingers
forever deemed an unworthy animal.
We belong to nature and they're all hunters
fully equipped with nonfictional weapons to destroy the wilderness with in
poaching our furs and horns
only to hold the satisfying idea we are becoming extinct.
We believe in something greater
its a diamond ring proposal of freedom
sparkling in the sunlight of judgment
unfazed by starless nights
we still shine bright in total darkness
becoming a beacon of light to the helpless moths.
We are born as nomads of law and principles
they want to break us, bind us in rules and regulations
take our souls and throw them to the masses of cold blooded creatures
they all swim mindlessly in a wonderland of controlled morality
but to the hot blooded, these cool waters are foreign
forever belonging on land
letting our predator instincts be the guide
knowing what is right and where to flee when its wrong
but they expect us to drown with the rest
in the materialistic greed infested river of the world.
We will never be broken
we are the wild
we are self thinkers
we are the untouchable spirited winds of the world
rebel eyed with our backs against those who have become the thoughtless corps
filled with animosity and jealousy
we are free and we roam the jungles of prosperity
still shining bright, a true savage.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
This is the beat
for the future.
Slow.
Continuous.
Quick in paces.
Slow in the right
places.
The bassline of the future
should be love.
Let's make it as slow and continuous as our ideals have said it would be.
In the last moments
of the world
let every man kiss every man
every woman kiss every woman
every love see love.
Fuhreal,
let's take love
to a whole new level.
Let's make it so beautiful
that we stop killing cockroaches
and poaching
the god's green broaches of branches
full of howler monkeys
howling for conservation against the parasitism
that man has become accustomed to.
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 6:55 PM UTC
illumination
the sun rungs fears
pusher of its inquiry
ringer in of chore
and civil obligation
dissolving this days events
jonesing for the eve
when poaching the social solution
will bait me into the night snare
Nov 26, 2021
Nov 26, 2021 at 1:51 PM UTC
that tree on the hill, in the midday sun unfurled
a majestic gnarl of old glory, sustained by a bounty of Time
a thing full of slow thoughts, thoughts that precede our asking
whose branches have forsaken hands
in favor of open arms
that have no word
for love
and
yet
that’s all it does
we sat beneath it’s wholesome fuss of ripe fruit, sinking in.
you in your yoga pants, poaching a dragons egg
in thick blue grass
i in my cups, sipping vineyards of brandy from a deerskin champagne glass
staring at your beautiful joy
the both of us slouching on the couch of Creation
each
with our own
remote.
we were up-close
noses pressed against pollen parasols parading in heat mirage camouflage
holding a moment without pause
we picnic in the thicket of an endless gift
like ants on a blanket
the width of the
world.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 1:37 PM UTC
The winds blow and tree branches wave enraged,
The sky is one gray cloudy mass
While the rain streams down, all is wet.
Outside is bright with the drear ethereal light
Contrasting the interior shock of fluorescent,
Divided by tired panels of rain-streaked glass.
And there you sit.
All ivory-skinned facing the poaching storm,
Ensconced in the library chair you make a throne,
Collectedly attending your papers in front,
Careless of the outside weather as
The rich falls of your hair -
A few reckless strands daring
To fall as they may.
All the while, trees continue to shake,
The winds to blow and the rains to drop,
But all you have to spare is
a quick glance,
Then its back to work.
Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 3:26 AM UTC
I regret (usually too late), the authority
Of the sitting government.
Any government.
Once in power (I regret that word)
The back room broking good ole boys
At the exit polls loose their senses,
Sight and hearing.
Feelings get hurt.
Taxes are wasted.
The trough gouging is too loud.
I resent lying.
I regret (mostly from the evidence),
The too full baskets of organized religion
Overflowing from indulgences;
The Roman fingers
Poaching coins for another memorial window;
The glass cathedrals
And get-a-way cars.
I resent hypocrisy.
I regret people don't arrive on time
(no matter the time);
Especially when outside anyplace waiting,
Perhaps a light for a smoke is needed,
Or there's inclement weather,
The nearby company is distasteful.
Waiting dinner.
Late children are the worse.
They cause worry.
I resent the selfishness of time.
I regret being diseased,
And hated for it.
When in remission I'm loved.
Active, not so much.
The know-its say it's a matter of will.
Like you can cure
Cancer or smallpox with thoughts.
The one symptom alone, hurt,
Would need temples of meditating chanters!
I resent condemnation.
I regret failed relationships:
Family, friends and women.
My thoughts are mine;
If I said everything
You'd have a different opinion
Of what I am.
So we don't
Because we can't
Say things: we would appear as socio-paths.
We think good and bad;
Therefore we're real.
A virtual humanity.
I resent blathering.
I regret an educational system
That believes in paradigm shifts;
Spouting new-age lingo:
If it's not broken, break it;
Selling out to athletics,
Or Mr., Ms and Mrs. know
All about education;
They went to school.
Bullies top the list.
I resent permissive parents.
Most of all,
I regret
My resentments.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
Did you ever see me cry?
Hiding in my own corner--
It was a dismal place as dark as
Night and as pressing as the
Silent presence of death.
Did you ever watch me cry?
Every tear a diamond,
And upheaval of sobs,
Disquieting the stillness,
And disappearing into shadows.
Have you ever noticed
The drowning of my eyes,
Pools of pain and unpleasant misery,
Poaching my soul,
While undetected by others?
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
Would I receive praise
if I told you God does not exist
or would you crucify me
and stand for all he's against?
White-out fills the worn pages
you so carelessly thumb
Pretending to be a saint
Preaching with a gun
I think I'll skip the sermon
I'd rather not bark at the moon
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 9:31 AM UTC
Don't wanna live in the city lights.
Wanna hideaway at night.
Want love to blind me.
Only truth to find me.
Love to bind me.
Knots of raffia
Make me a basket.
Red yellow and blue.
Fill it with your honest truth.
City lights hidden dreams.
Poor visibility screams.
You wear your bikini.
Just covers some bits
Like a songbird.
A lady with wit.
Knots of raffia
Create me a basket
Red yellow and blue to make a neat basket.
Load it with love and fill it with flowers.
Weaving, binding true love over hours.
Stitch me a quilt all of my own.
Darling, the comfort of laying alone.
Lost in a sandstorm.
With grit in my eyes.
True love is lonely.
It reaches the skies.
A lonely Skua appears, poaching my eggs.
Some where behind me lay both of my legs.
They were walking in circles perpetually.
Not sure what they're doing but they wanna be free.
Chains discarded on my bed.
Off I go.
Met the red queen
It's off with my head in an instant.
A game of bowls or croquet maybe.
Nods in her honour.
Well done Milady.
What a strange poem or maybe a song.
Love is vacant, bing bang ****
(c)LIVVI
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 4:22 AM UTC
"What could've beens" haunt my mind along with the scent of your t-shirt in the loneliest hour of the inky black night. Stars are so beautiful, so far away from each other yet so beautiful. That is what we are. Beautiful apart. And just as the Stars have accepted they will never burn infinitely together, I have learned to accept our fate. Memories flicker across my mind and I remember the way you said "You're beautiful," with your fingers interlocking with mine creating something that could never be broken. Except by her. She held the key and all I could do was desperately hold on like a stubborn dog who wants nothing more than to feel affection from his owner. As the owner slams the door, the dog realizes that the owner doesn't want him, as I have learned to accept our fate. You never wanted anything more than to steal a kiss from my naked lips, craving more of my affection and care to keep you going every time you landed your poaching eyes upon me. Like a leach ******* the life from me, I have learned to accept our fate. It's 3am and I have often thought of what you're dreaming, but a twisted mind can only be deciphered by another like it and I'm so sorry I was never like you. Opposites attract they say, but I repel you. Similar to the like-poles of a magnet, never designed to meet, I have learned to accept our fate. When you chose her, I lost myself. Now, I am journeying to find the light once again, like a girl who fell hopelessly, one sidedly, in love, and realized the harsh truth that it can never be, I yearn to change my fate.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
I filled it then spilled it.
Think I'll quit so I can quilt it.
Some kind of design that reflects this patchwork mind.
You might laugh or cry,
but it'll keep you warm either way.
I didn't even feel like being awake today.
Had a dream where I crawled through dinosaur ****
Stegosaurus didn't see me coming,
but he was still prepared for it.
Woke up only to take a shower.
I've got about six hours 'til I have to be at work again.
I'll just daydream about poaching mammoths,
and pretend I have friends.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
Endangered's the beast called the rhino,
Whose horn is prized by the Sino.
I asked one (with a smirk):
"Does this stuff really work?"
He softly replied, "Oh my, no."
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
Respect a fool to avoid noise.
Clever people die fast but fools live long.
Elders said short cut's are dangerous
Indeed its true.
Poverty will never be ended
Only poor can be chopped a little.
Risking life for rhino horn is not a solution.
God need to be thanked for what he gave you not what you choose to have.
Digging up your own grave before God prepare you a nice place to rest.
Remember every cent you have is a thanks to God .
Money have no garden so don't try to cultivate it.
Those who have million wish to have billions and those who have hundreds wish to have thousands.
Stop money laundering.
Stop rhino horn poaching.
Drop that call is killing our ears.
Life is not for sale.
Live once die once..
We were born with nothing we will die and baried with nothing
In life we need to accept what we have.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 1:45 PM UTC
gods out of the night
out of the nights unnavigable light
luding rosy from the underworld
broaching
how you push through my faces
the posings
hooking behind the dense furs
poaching out the peppish reasoning
dissolving its obstructive code
you rap me faint between the eyes
every failure drapes away
in chronicle and uttered hurt
all so familiar
seeming foreignly a warm tutting family
all volatile material is subdued
i am voidable soldier
but you hold me in keep
you are truthfully inclusive
i feel beloved in animal and otherly
pandered into the pattern
all beyond belonging
and yet traceable with my many uses
a healing visit and now to business
footage provided to make a mood-less operation
i'm kept swaddled throughout my information sift
silt is taken and exchange given
for a heady ****** charge
i've been amazed in the dreams
you provided
suspended in a solving liquor of theatre
i hope my report was a good one
i woke well rested
with a light feeling of reassignment
Mar 22, 2022
Mar 22, 2022 at 5:51 AM UTC
Dawn & Dusk.
Pink & White.
Deers & baby fawns.
An essence so bright.
Their aura glows.
Hunters who **** them.
Don't care to know.
Poaching....that's not right.
They don't see the light an eternal spirit will invite you to a website.
Despite the animal stalkers sick delight.
The magazines & articles they post is not alright.
A deer's death is unable to reunite.
About pride of slaughter they write.
Living beings a well being right.
Getting butchered to die is a senseless fight.
Evil entities be deflected.
Innocence never neglected.
Loved & respected.
They deserve to be protected.
A sacred birth from mother earth.
Possesses a priceless worth.
Wild life pays an unacceptable price.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 1:35 AM UTC
.don't get me wrong... poaching a chicken breast, while wrapped in cling-film? a "MAGA" idea... and then frying it? gently? brilliant... first exposing the chicken to a tenderness, and then incubating it by frying it? genius...
while watching Masterchef Australia...
surprise surprise...
imagine my surprise at finding
the monarchical support of the people
of Australia, trailing along with
jests of "speaking the proper
terminology" when addressing "royalty"...
is this some sort of Aztec pyramid
poncy scheme Halloween party?
feathers and ****
no?
sure as **** it looks like one
of those bogus explanations worthy
of the royalty of sycophants of
Pont de l'Alma, "debated" against...
as if Charlie "the ******* Chaplin" Windsor
could brush this / these facts off...
point being...
to my utter bewilderment,
and subsequent surprise...
i never imagined the Australians to be
so monarchical...
stunned as ****
Australians are this much monarchical?
they're so biased, so fervent in their opinions?!
seriously?!
remind me to never visit this...
sub, of whatever constitutes a continent...
i'e sooner visit the Faroe Island
prior to America,
as i'd visit Antarctica before
Australia...
monarchical afterthoughts
that the Australians surprised me
with...
i deemed them rather rebellious...
solemn, industriously counter
to what Britain affirmed /
arranged itself around...
my bad...
i guess it's just a case of:
different **** same cover....
oh... right... ********
same **** different cover;
works both ways anyway.
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 9:17 PM UTC
I have a question burning:
. . . . What's the point of living?
My heart is pounding
I'm heavy breathing
My blood is boiling
My face is melting
My hair is pulling
My skin is itching
My nails are hurting
My eyes are clouding
My mouth is drying
My mind is waning
My voice is wailing
My hands are cracking
My stomach is churning
My strength is failing
My care is mortifying
My existence is joking
My work is freezing
My delusions are multiplying
My thoughts are racing
My life is dying
My hopes are groaning
My dreams are poaching
My will power is cooking
My mind's eye is glossing
My mood's-a-changing
No cylinders are firing
My desire is diving
The cycle is beginning
My peace is nuking
Beauty is crumbling
Life's code is encrypting
. . . . No key for decrypting
The way out is blinding
And I'm feeling
. . . . The top of the ceiling
. . . . No more flooring
. . . . Left falling, none for catching
I'm wasting
I'm choking
I'm running
The demons are searching
Me they're consuming
Me they're chewing
Me they're spitting
Me they're crushing
. . . . Causing
. . . . A raining
. . . . Hellfire reckoning
They want me deadening
Me they're taunting
Poking me, torturing
My debt not paying
. . . . It's me they're charging
No recourse, left standing
Consciousness is maddening
My enemies looming
. . . . Gleaning my soul, they're feeding
They're biting
I'm left crying
Hope is fleeting
Friends are fleeing
. . . . This nutcase entertaining
I'm stopping
Left looking
No one is caring
. . . . To grace my being
They see me fading
Cast into the void, they're jeering
Strangers are laughing
There's more I could be saying
But I'm still left wondering:
. . . . What's the point of living?
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC