"ransoms" poems
Syndicate!
Venezuela.
A land of ghosts.
Where cell phones die.
Undetectable.
As families cry.
For their lost loves.
Hostages taken.
Vanish into night.
For minimal ransom.
Ransoms paid by families of wealth.
Abductees murdered.
Rarely returned.
Hostage takers.
Rarely caught.
In this land of class distinction.
Tension builds.
Some.
The lucky ones get taken from the avenues.
Taken to the ATM.
Where their bank accounts are drained.
Given drugs then dumped again.
Caracas homicide rates high.
Ransoms paid and men still die!
In this dark land where crimes flies.
Never solved in this land so corrupt.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken
As I by yours, y’have passed a hell of time,
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O, that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me then, tendered
The humble salve which wounded bosoms fits!
But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
1.7k
in the part of the cool hill's soft thighs
trembles the callous shaft of dawn
penetrating the ephemeral violence
of the stabbing rods of arbor scent
damply the night mare goes galloping
whinny little sins of star caresses
but none are so shy and sly as the
eye clasped hollow in the stench
of (and also the slender flowers
smirk at the blossoms young
flesh broken by the light song)
Morpheus' guileless laughter
as shattered the disheveled clubs
swing ransoms of heart lips between
the twain of the enchanted leaves
there rests a silver bit of girl so
blisteringly beautiful blushes all
the world for holding this trembling
aperture of onyx plait holding femininity
so electric is the artifice of her glimmering
chastity, swore the sun it would never
shine on any other thing so savagely its
shivering skin of golden pleasure as this her
(but just so the moon loved her too
as passionate as any other lover ever imagined
or material. spitting delicate strands of shimmer
upon the golden-brown skein of her shoulders)
she woke startled by the amorous dome
crinkling on the perfection of her lithe
sensual frame. stupidly the ideal birds
sang, trying to match the elegance of
her narrow waist; but failed hideously
drowning the silence in virulent soundless
noise. then brimmed every god to the lip
of everything to peer upon this unbearable
visage and dither in the perfection of its curves.
suddenly the Rose blistered from the soil
and came wetly a residue of crimson from
its supple petals mounting the vision of her
absolute eyes. splaying the gentle hips of
sight to receive the splendor of its thorned
stem into her hand and ***** the silk
of her hands slowly releasing a jewel of life
all this witnessed by the cloistered huddles
of gossamer children. hideously perfect men
wantonly begging for the grace of her sensual
pond. beckon they, to them, her but she refuseth
and make for the realm of Hades. quietly, in
death, waiting for some heat to unfreeze the
skin of her blue heart frozen still darkness.
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 6:51 PM UTC
Jealousy is calling Mrs. Brightside to a dark moon.
Werewolf howls: some lost girl, lonely,
Wanting only to be loved.
Let me scream for she is lost. ‘Cause
never found outside, in cold, damp rooms;
Body tossing,
Sweat staining the sheets,
Soaking the pillows
She cries...
Just to be heard,
Just so she might breathe.
Cry for Her...
Lost Innocence.
Purity forgotten can never be expressed,
Only bottled up,
Distilled,
Filled to the brim to be poured out then thrown
To the ocean-
Awaiting time may bring beach glass,
Smoothed rough and shattered softened-
In hopes of sparkling some distant shore.
But to belie Her: these empty vessels;
Silhouettes among a crowd of unfamiliar faces
Identically backlit by the sun-Vivid Death-
Setting,
Turned westward,
Watching an amber light’s slow fade-
Crimson turqouise violet splendor-
To black.
Let me scream for You.
Let me scream,
For you are lost.
Let me scream for your lost cause;
I will scream forever,
And forever
let me pray for you in silence
And speak soft down whispers into the depth of vacant ears
Well-known strangers wandering empty streets,
Lighting sidewalks and store windows as they pass
-Sometimes-
Waking cold sweat screaming through darkness;
Tears for Bright Dreams-
Now only Lost Causes.
And the day begins to break.
The lights go out.-
She cries, “Go out”-
Extinguishes.
My freedom’s lost.
My innocence wanes.
She cries.
Ransoms collected.
I lay silent…
She cries.
Screaming,
She cries.
Silently
I cry,
And you begin to fade away.
Jan 18, 2010
Jan 18, 2010 at 10:01 AM UTC
all your rockets graced the sky
and corks from your champagne
littered the fields of refugees
the bands played all the hits
while models paraded in silks
money poured out of machines
but you were lucky if you got some
while kings ransoms were waged on horses
children begged for morsels
Poets wrote of love and war
and generals marched their forces
up and down lines on a map
and people soaked in T.V
hardly critical of its content
Welcome to the 21st century
flags and banners faded into history
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 9:15 AM UTC
Confessions of a terrorist.
Possessed by the devil,
I strode out to do evil,
With enmity written large on my face,
Somebody has to be clad in deaths embrace.
Just yesterday a child became an orphan.
And a couple were worried by the ransoms burden.
The fetters of depression behold the city,
Where everyday criminals like me enter captivity.
Karachi, Karachi of yore
Shall not surface, will not surface
Whilst I trigger my double barrel bore.
written by:
Zeenat Iqbal hakimjee
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 2:53 AM UTC
there is settled ink
in the curve of your chin,
graceful arms shadowed
on your wall when
you decided, hey, let's
dance to the music of
morning birds. there is
empathy in the way
your tongue slides over
the word "we"
and tastes it like coffee
with cream and no
sugar. i took your
wondering fingerprints
and gathered them
against the wall,
placed so like the
direction mattered,
the colors fairly
blinded the tigers
sleeping under our beds
and they screamed
because there are
things too beautiful
for here. tomes
draw inspiration
from your voice and
write god words in
english so normal
people can understand
how some people
do not understand.
i typed you necklaces
and you wear
them on your skirt, taking
glances from strangers
and tucking them into
a deep pocket
for later and dark
and thoughts.
you set ransoms
for the autumn leaves
and put them in your
hair, i only left
them there because
nothing
is as good.
yet i am afraid. i am afraid of your willow-branch hair that raises the ones on my arms, i am afraid of your cotton ball eyes that flay open my thoughts, delve into the things i don't know, the things i didn't know, the words i should have said, the words that got stuck somewhere between my epiglottis and my lips. i am afraid that you are a violated temple, that you are an unholy goddess and i am deathly afraid of the fact that you might be human. i am afraid because dandelion seeds leave after you wish on them, eleven eleven turns to eleven twelve and you have missed your chance. shooting stars are only in the sky for so long, and i am afraid that you will only be in the sky for so long and i will miss my chance to catch you, i am afraid of your words that slip between my headaches and relieve tension. i am afraid that the sky castles that i built are only cages and no one can really live in them, including you. i am afraid that my list of requirements don't fit people, don't fit you, i am afraid of your beauty and afraid of your humanity, and so i wait. with my mouth closed. and smile when you stand to get a drink, as your skirt brushes softened legs, knowing something that you do not.
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
Today my heart is aching
For a man that's far away
I would give anything to hold him
And any ransoms I would pay
I find my mind just Wanders
To a sandy barren hell
And pray that my loving thoughts
Find my soldier safe and sound
Each night before I go to bed
I look up to the skies
And the moon brings me comfort
As tears brim in my eyes
Despite the miles between us
We still shar the stars and sun
So I gaze upon them often
It helps me know we are still one
So as I lie down on my pillow
I close my eyes and think of you
Not only in my waking moments
But you are in all my dreams too
My gorgeous handsome solider
I love you with all my heart
And the hardest thing I've ever done
Is have to accept we had to part
But our love is so much stronger
Than any force I've ever known
In the short time we've been together
It's amazing how much it's grown
So until we are reunited
Please stay safe and strong
My heart is yours forever
With you is where it belongs
Think about me often
My gorgeous handsome man
To wait for you forever
Is my battle plan
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
Rolling ,falling ,tumbling , taking on traditions of gravity ,more sincere than religion in its nature
Building from a budding breath,carousing on unsure footing ,climbing relentlessly though unchecked
Frugal in thought, never realizing the true systems that should have been wrought,time will pay as they mature
Blind ambitions masking all intentions, reckless rampage forcing itself upward,but still remaining unprotected
Slowly growing ,taking on new ways, actively rising still uncompromising with a pattern littered with phantoms
daily paying a penance, yet still offering little resistance ,life's luscious moments taking up most of our time
Promises made against hands yet unplayed ,as new trials present themselves matching resistance paid with higher ransoms
Middle ground now meeting ,raking together a center piece more exposed ,playing pasts with hopes for a nicer future rhyme
Brazen bravery shown ,learned as we have grown but with a cost ,missing links leaving out parts of passion
Some may see it as cold ,individually known as bold , still playing part as the trait is linked to our fate
Moments of reason sometimes switching with the seasons , true reason still not a daily part of the ration
Blameless behavior, based without any reasonable facts, part of how we now react,responsibility now a closing gate
Those cautions we were warned to use now showing themselves as deeper wounds ,time building up a more visible wall
Climbing the ladder ,missing a few rungs allowable lessons but at what cost, once frozen but still willing to face the frost
Individuals moving with learned motivations but still relying on past lessons ,learning slowly may become part of the final downfall
So we may pick or choose lifes lessons ,making room for our own reasons ,just playing along ,waging like winners so all is never lost.
R.C.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:02 PM UTC
as idolising and idealising love once
said: https://goo.gl/Szn4a0,
so unto rearing children
we bid our hopes of
the forbidden idolatry, such a farewell;
for indeed a woman trivialises
ransoms of violence against the one;
while man does not trivialise
such ransoms, a bull sack of the numerous
to be impregnated clone insignia...
his violence is against the many;
always for the glory of war with man,
always for the glory of individuation with woman.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 10:44 PM UTC
Silver and gold
Can never hold
Her beauty
Ransoms and dime
Can never rhyme
With her body
Prayers and praise
Can never appraise
Her pressence
Builders and fixer
Can never fix her
Broken heart
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
'
*On a hand-hewn pedestal
imagination coalesced;
on milk-white face, alight
eyes sparked by a liquid flame.
Some build ivory towers,
their hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks, a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted, orphan dream.
Across time and the Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white face
resurrected an ailing heart.
Some can only imagine
what others have, without trying;
when vicarious journeys fail,
reality's block they will assail.*
(A sort of raison d'etre definition for the artist's creation,
drawing from both the stories of Pygmalion and Geppetto.)
__✒
○●
°
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 8:32 PM UTC
AGUILAR
But a happy few
Broke from our cages and were spared for slaves,
Within the warlike clutch of Na Chan Can.
My freedom have your wax and honey bought.
One stubborn soul, Guerrero, stays behind.
CORTÉS
And with slave’s ransoms, we must rescue him.
AGUILAR
He will not come.
ALVARADO You must mean “could not,” man.
What exile, broiling in the pits of hell
Is tossed a rope from heaven and will not come?
Your Spanish rusted in these humid airs.
AGUILAR
These Mayas have seduced him to their cause.
When I confronted him, he spoke to me:
“I am a wartime chieftain, and their judge,
And see how lovely are my wife and sons!”
Three handsome half-castes nestled at his hip.
“You go,” he said, “and may God go with you.
But black tattoos have spiraled round my eyes,
And broad, thick discs now pierce my ears and lips.
Would Christians welcome one so scarified?”
CORTÉS
God only scorns the scars of souls.
OLMEDO Well said.
AGUILAR
His crabbed wife waved in my face and spat:
“What grimy scarecrow dares provoke my lord?
Shove off!” But our Guerrero caught my arm.
“I’ve warned our Mayas of Castile,” he hissed.
“If Spanish visitations will be suffered,
The scabies of their ‘culture’ will erupt,
And Europe’s slow, inexorable flow
Must soon encrust and case these florid lands
As running wax will coat a candlestick.
Then must I trim Death’s wicks.”
CORTÉS What can that mean?
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
Drunk again and crying
Her brown eyes become a blue gem
and her body staggers softly yet sweetly
She's uncertain and speaks like a wild western wind
and her heart is so difficult to mend
Her mind balances like a Bull walking on tightrope
and I have become a mistrustful misanthrope
My hopes and dreams were hung and choked
and her sorrows are drowned in temporary bliss
neither of us can forget and I long for that last kiss
oh what a life I miss
Me and her thrash like tides in trouble waters
and I lay abandoned into the deep sea
Although she has someone new I hear restraint
My heart is bound to hers and I can't escape
She was once like my wife and a part of me myself and I
and now I wonder if I'll be whole again once more
I payed ruby ransoms red as blood for you my love
and I prayed for you to be happy and fly free as a dove
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 11:52 PM UTC