"rattler" poems
Fangs bared
Dripping with venom
The rattler lies in wait
The Shwisshing Hissing warning
Always too late
Blind-sided victim
Struck in the heart
Dies of the venom the snake did impart.
The dying victim
Calls out in vain
I did not deserve this
Why won’t you explain?
I offered you love, but
You bit my hand
Killed me with lies
I just don’t understand.
Without a word
Snake slithers away
Hides under a rock
Awaiting more prey.
PwL March 2015
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC
Cracks
like gunshots that ring out
like sidewalks that split into streams where weeds will sprout
Where lighting meets rolling thunder
and the right hand reaches up
to grasp at malevolent rock
a fissure stemmed from burden
expanded to a chasm saturated with charisma
splashing over like a full brimmed stout
pounded down onto a suede counter
sending trembles of fervent thought
that jangles
like a child's toy rattler
banged against stone and span
to finally chip away at consistency
jarred three hundred and sixty degrees
and derived from a number inferred to live as one
promptly assuming the form to hold two
to ascertain the title "Aunt."
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 5:18 AM UTC
Rattler
I lay, languid,
upon the rocky
outcropping.
Basking in the early
afternoon Sun.
Just then
a furry vole
wandered past me.
I slithered over and said
“Let’s do Lunch.”
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 8:13 AM UTC
11/15/2015
it has been a while since
i've been to the wetland coppice
teetering close to the neck of
a somerset sourland hummock
soft rushes and pickerel ****
wild lavender and marsh elder
a Canadian goose choking on a
birch branch
it died.
it has been a time since I've been there
timber rattler and weasel
playing in the grounsel
September,
like Wallace Stevens: lonely in
Jersey city.
November dead
cold bright annihilating days
i sometimes walk a mile
cutting across dead garden snakes
they sit in the living room, playing
the Nile is full of waste and bile
i wait alone by this little grove,
hoping that my fickleness of
Conversation topics
can help me now
but my mind, it raced
like a dead horse at a betting show
Sunday morning,
Saturday night really
I read Wallace Stevens in the field
And dream about jersey city
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC
a delay in my eyes= my head is gone
i had better plans for the future
follow through (a taste of codeine)))
a shakespearian poet once told me that my face would look better with his **** in my mouth
hahaha huh aha they sing baby rattler snake bite bi teME
I TOLD YOU my head is gone ? the lines are all mixed up
i cant read you like i can the back of my palms (blck… tar )
crack babies *** want some of [ REDACTED ]
stop walking by my door i know you want the rent but all i can give you is a black eye
satan mustve been a pretty fun guy
you think you can Swallow a little bit of my breath
it# barely moves ###
break even-even break my bones before i die
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC
The polyester cardigan grows thin
As I nervously tug at its tiring seam
The silence does not dare to lessen
And I dare not to break the stream
That fills this exhausted space
We so ashamedly know
Please, just turn on the radio
To drown out my thoughts
Of Yours.
I have already decided it will be another six months
And Guilt has already welcomed himself
Tearing through the bones
Pulsing.
Agony, pain.
Take him away.
This Guilt
is Yours.
I dread the day that I will see the water fall from your eyes,
the same squinted hazel as mine,
Your shoulders will give in and Collapse,
Your chest it will shake, like my old rattler,
as we attempt not to relapse.
But I truly dread the following day,
as I will hear that radio play.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 8:29 PM UTC
I asked a bird
Who was flying by
If he ever worried about time gone by?
He laughed and smiled with no reply.
I saw a pig wallowing in complete despair.
I say, old fellow, "what are you doing there?"
He snorted and spit, sat in his own **** without a care.
Yet he seemed content and gazed into his muddy lair.
As I trod onto the the beaten path, i suddenly began to laugh.
And out popped a rattler slithering to and fro.
Not even a daring thought of discussing life with him, my future at that point seemed awfully grim.
My chances of survival were getting slim.
Ill think again before going on another adventure on a dangerous whim.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
the waters ring red
with the ferrous clay from these plains
brutish brown on cloud cluttered days
caramel during floods
my feet know nothing
of water moccasins, though
a rattler nipped an ankle on these banks
a million years ago
feet don't recall
they slip into the cool tickling stream
innocent, not looking for a Baptismal
though the serpents are ever present
slithering in the depths
just beyond my eyes, only a few silt filled steps
from my ten toes, waiting--wanting fallible
flesh to slip within their sights
where there will be no
original naked temptation, only the striking,
the ********** venom, and the second fall
from grace, without woman to blame
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 10:42 PM UTC
Bo Goodin Reddy was a friend o' mine
Gargled in the morning with turpentine !
Ate catfish and drank moonshine ,
Worked like a mule on the old rail line !
Bo yanked a heifer 'outta Whitewash Creek ,
He could whup a black bear with a hickory switch !
Played five card stud till the cows came home ,
Shot a pine cone off a tree at a hundred yards Man could grab a rattler before the snake could blink ,
Bo was more man than a man could think !
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
I'm Movin' On
That big eight wheeler a rollin' down the track
Means your true lovin' daddy ain't comin' back
'Cause I'm movin' on, I'll soon be gone
You were flyin' too high for my little old sky
So I'm movin' on
That big loud whistle as it blew and blew
Said hello to the Southland, we're comin' to you
And we're movin' on, oh hear my song
You had the laugh on me, so I've set you free
And I'm movin' on
Mister Fireman, won't you please listen to me?
'Cause I got a pretty mama in Tennessee
Keep movin' me on, keep rollin' on
So shovel the coal, let this rattle a roll
And keep movin' me on
Mister Engineer take that throttle in hand
This rattler's the fastest in the southern land
To keep movin' me on, keep rollin' on
You're gonna ease my mind, put me there on time
And keep rollin' on
I warned you baby from time to time
But you just wouldn't listen or pay me no mind
Now I'm movin' on, I'm rollin' on
You have broken your vow and it's all over now
So I'm movin' on
You switched your engine now I ain't got time
For a triflin' woman on my main line
'Cause I'm movin' on, you done your daddy wrong
I've warned you twice, now you can settle the price
'Cause I'm movin' on
But someday baby when you've had your play
You're gonna want your daddy but your daddy will say
Keep movin' on, you stayed away too long
I'm through with you, too bad you're blue
Keep movin' on
Hank Snow said it
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 11:28 PM UTC
Beautiful oblivion of the mind that hides the truth your mouth spews,
I don't want to hear the **** you say because of how you gained it.
Your just going to believe whatever the hell you want to because
after all if I say go ahead and do it that must mean there truth.
Poison of the soul are stirred fully to a boil through the blood stream
like the bite of a rattler that's almost to the critical position,
hurry,
quick now,
drain the poison from your veins.
Oh but that poison is such a head rush of pure bliss like some drug
that you can become addicted to so easily mmm sweet venom for the soul.
Open your mouth and swallow it all let it run down your throat,
like the blood dripping from your veins.
You can't be free of this toxin of no,
it will come back every chance it can and offer you immortality.
**** the world with its hurt and pains why can't I be drained
down to the soul to nevermore face the toxins of your words.
Hurry,
quick now,
cut the emotions from your soul.
Can't get angry because of the toxin that slows the reflexes
draining the pleasure of feeling your blood heated enough to burn,
offering the ashes to the wind after words like some old ritual.
Yet this sweet toxin can't be freed of the blood so easily,
I've been drained to the soul and I can't bleed anymore.
Is that an angel upon the horizon oh crap no,
its the devil come to take me home once again.
Hurry,
quick now,
I'm heading to the light of hope.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 9:26 PM UTC
10/15/2015
down by the ravine twisted woods,
By boxelder and sweetgum,
a timber rattler in the field over,
you say "those are dangerous"
"Mhm" all I mumble, stifling in the memorial of that sticky sunny summer in the forest
you say sooner or later
"Barely is enough sometimes"
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
Today I will return
To the mountain trail
There is an element of mystery there
I wonder who I will meet along the trail
Last time I met Mark
A 32 year old
He asked me if I needed any water
And offered me some beef jerky
He was from Los Angeles
Working at a Target
Couldn't afford to finish college
A bit overweight
Raised as a Christian scientist
But not particularly religious it sounded liked
We talked about the beauty of nature
And I mentioned Buddhism and Daoism
We talked about our love for hiking
Peace be with you Mark
And yesterday evening
I heard the familiar jingling of the bells
I had heard them on a previous night
She said the most kind hello
I think I have ever heard
Bless her
What a pretty woman
Maybe next time I will chat with her for a bit
Yesterday evening I watched the sunset
On my rock chair I sat
Alone as usual
I made my way back down
With only my Iphone light
I heard the rattlesnake
On the trail
So loud, it startled me
I went back up
Not wanting to continue down
I waited for my fellow hikers
Who had LED lights
I warned them of the rattler
And they said they saw it coming on the way up
And so I made my way down with them
She was such a gorgeous ***** brunette
But women always ignore me
I'm used to it
As I finished the trail
A car was parked at the bottom
In a wide open area
A couple chatting in their car
I made my way back down to Sierra Madre
I had walked to the trail
When you are as poor as me
You have to save gas
And I walked through the town
I heard the familiar cry of the baby
And the woman sitting on her front porch
Always on the outside
Looking into homes
They are not like me
They are not alone like me
A woman with her child in the living room
Sierra Madre is a quaint mountain town
Stumbling around with my hiking poles
Tired
One leg a bit longer than the other
One hip a bit higher than the other
I don't know why
I don't care
Just a body
An earth body
Connected to the earth
It's all pointless
Meaningless
Absurd
I say out loud
As I bang my hiking sticks together
And I am forever walking
Forever searching
For something I cannot find
And I keep on feeling nothing
And it leads to nothing
And I'm always tired
And I don't know why
And I just don't care
And I keep on walking
It's just another day
Like all the other days
Read some sign
"Investing in our future"
Some new pipes being put in on our streets
I said out loud there is no future
No future for America
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 12:04 PM UTC
The dude wore
a desert-cammie boonie,
cut-off cargos
& chain-smoked Camels.
He was a walking billboard, too.
On his right calve,
an inked rattler
lay coiling,
buzzing,
"Don't Tread On Me"
& on his left
was etched
the middle finger,
spewing,
**** Iraq!"
God, I loved him.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
Though the upward blue is swarthy
I shalt get mine fill, on one day a queen and thrill;
She shalt tuck me in, her cosy confinement
Like the universe in etching, ourn spirit's realignment.
Bursting color's like snakes Rattler's
Tambourine music to flood the air;
A damsel on life's edge, loosing her head
Though me as her king, I shalt be there.
Walking hand to finger's
Gently nuzzle her with mine nose;
The word's " I loveth thee mine queen"
No if's, and's, or I suppose.
None interweb sensation
That just DIETH out;
A clap of hand's, from the crowd of band's
A strain of sand, ourn feet to route.
Her nape i shalt warmly bloweth on
To arouse her inner awareness;
Agreeing to be one unshunned
A village to be isolated, in ourn fairness.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
I came to a canyon
one autumn evening,
parched.
I was deserted
on one side,
distant from you in
sienna barrenness,
amongst bubbling grey boulders.
I felt desperate, like a beetle
being squished between rattler jaws,
fangs of fate chewing out chances to grow,
to fully bud above the rest,
to push past the heat
like cacti greeting the purple sunset sky.
You were on the other side
making the grass wave in your wind,
painting hills with dainty dandelions
and dancing mushrooms,
to cover up the reeking decay
of your last relationship,
the decomposition
of dear flesh,
of rotten opportunity,
the true will of degeneration
still not stopping your junipers and ferns.
And in the middle,
below the drama,
time’s rushing river
worms it’s way through rock,
forcing chasm, yet
somehow encourages flourishing,
and quenches our thirst.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
A gust of wind sails
by it rattles my home and
uproot trees in rage.
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC
how sweetly she must hiss at me
my diamond death
I never meant to harm her day
she caught my breath
as I walked in green serene
in blessed ignorance
her gentle warning rattling
said her fangs were meant for me
for death is a woman
her coiling built for striking
gingerly I keep my distance
from beauty such as hers
as I bid her farewell
enjoy your sunlight
my love my death my dream
my sweetest of sweet poison
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC
Vapid viper
Reckless rattler
Killer copperback
I see the fangs
The cottonmouth
The lashing out
My skin
The poison coursing directly for my heart
Killing me slow
Killing me complete
The world we know
Is full of snakes
Snakes and me
My blood
I find you
Your hands
These toxins
My skin
And you with anti-venom
I see your hands
As this poison saturates
And hope you could be the one to save me
I shine a sun in your direction
I give my all that you would give me something
I hope for you when I'm hopeless
I watch you walk away.....
I die as your foot hits the ground
I die still loving you
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 2:49 AM UTC
Watching the grass grow, the gaslight goes down, I know that I'm standing back in my hometown where nothing's as real as the things that they say
and I feel like I'm crying in the midst of a rainbow with a glow all around me,
is this being free or is it dead?
Seventeen marks out of twenty they said, I could have saved them the bother of the telling.
A top o' the morning and the new day, but it catches me yawning my life away and I pray, won't you tell me or bell me sometime with the news from this family, they're kinfolk of mine, she gets me when I'm lower than the scales on a rattler, I look up to see me looking up, looking down, weird what you think when you think no one is watching.
The grass grows at last, not too slow or too fast and I like it that way.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Sneaky, scaly,
They live in a valley
Slimy, wormy
Not worthy of taxidermy
Patterned all pretty
Not welcome in the city
They have no pity
Very nasty and gritty
Some have a rattler
The worst tattler
Don't even speak like a prattler
Natures guerilla battler
Narrow slits for eyes
Whoever is bit dies
They have no allies
They are an unpleasant surprise
Sneaky, scaly,
They live in a valley
Slimy, wormy
Not worthy of taxidermy
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 2:03 PM UTC
Snakes fighting in a rutted logging trail
A chicken snake against a rattlesnake
Whipping the dust with their reptilian lust
For death among the ridings of despair
The rattlesnake is an endangered species
The chicken snake is okay with that, and strikes
The thrashers poise and pounce, loathsome and foul
Until the chicken snake slowly takes the rattler
Through peristalsis down into its maw
with the rattlesnake
Writhing desperately for a forced recount
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 4:37 PM UTC