"savanna" poems
Mankind began as a troop animal.
Living amongst its own kind.
Stepping out of the trees onto the Savanna.
Mankind became a wander, small family bands bound by blood. Millenia past, mankind developed farming and the wanderer settled down. Small wandering groups became small farming villages. Small farming villages became larger farming villages, then small towns.
Small towns became larger towns inhabited by hundreds.
Larger towns grew to small cities inhabited by thousands. Agriculture and technology developed to sustain and enhance such growth. Cities evolved into city states, then becoming small countries inhabited by hundreds of thousands. Finally today we have countries inhabited by hundreds of millions.
All along this path battles and wars, killing millions along the way, till today we have weapons that can wipe out us all.
The salvation of mankind and the natural progression of things is global organization, global integration.
The globe is being wired with its own global neural net, a global brain if you will. One world controlling itself.
One world that will not nuke itself! The salvation of us all.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC
It is a sickness,
That lives amongst,
The focused sky
The curious child,
And the moon illuminated.
It is an endless drone,
That wrenches our stomachs,
Enslaves our neighbours,
And breaks our spirits,
It is worshipped,
Yet will see us forgotten,
A blip on a savanna,
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
Brazen rusted iron-scent of blood–
there, before him, a river of crimson and failed dreams.
No boat, no oars.
Just plain chivalry and bravery and yesteryears’ scars
that manifest all throughout and within him.
He dips his feet.
There were scattered skeletons
and crunched broken bones
basking under the dunes of the night.
There were ghosts clinging
unto his own ghosts;
creatures against creatures.
The tip of their swords
sinking down to his own tired flesh
in attempt to find refuge
in the treacherous wings of the forests.
He swims along.
And his shoulders were battered
and his mare was tainted–
with dirt and dust and ashes of the enemies;
with memories and silhouettes buried
sent flying along the caresses
of the north winds.
He gasps for air, and stills himself under the ebbs.
Under many moons and scarcity of life–
Scarcity of Life–
the recurring sight of the gaseous light
and the inconsistency of the breath-intervals,
he remains still and proud.
His soles burnt with pain and interminable suffering
as it crossed the stretches of the savanna.
This is his life,
dwelling on the dawn borealis
and stained with apparitions of the past
and demons and absurdity.
He has crossed the river.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
An elephant remebered running wild in savanna.
The rays of the sun shining down warming the ground beneath him,
He bathed in the light, as he trunked with the other elephants around his elder's legs,
He remebered the large disk of light as it descended behind the earth and the sky became hues of color,
He remembered as he lay down in the nights, drawing warmth from his elders,
He remebered this as the lion, with jagged teeth, ripped his guts.
The lion, having had his fill, looked up at the elephant and there as darkness settled in his eyes, like curtains closing in the finale, an elephant ran wild in savanna.
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 8:54 PM UTC
Ghost Relics
Downtown,
where Main intersects Main
you'll see the last living tissue
of a breathing bazaar.
They weighed down her chest with bricks and girders.
It's a wonder she breathes at all.
-
Wander too far in any direction
and you're sure to see the husks
of once proud and bustling businesses.
Abandoned sanctums of mortar and majesty.
Scars of the Midwest etched as constants in our mind.
Dusty and silent since the cradle.
-
The theaters are bedeviled with dolled up haunts
who just wandered over from Greenwood to catch the matinee.
Management still leaves the lights on for kicks after hours
to throw off their sleep schedules while they wait for the feature to start.
Up all night, sleep all day; they read by neon and slumber under Sol.
Here I am, left lounging in The Devil's Chair. Crickets keep quavering.
-
Underneath the Franklin Street overpass sleeps a family bound by naught.
They watch in dawn's light as the few pedestrian that traverse Cerro Gordo
advert their eyes as some sort of silent symbol of respect for their situation.
It's as if the very stare of a privileged man could drain 'til depleted.
They never ask for anything, they just wade it out and listen to
the cars overhead, the train-clock's trumpet, and the heartbeats in between.
-
Leaks are patched, potholes filled, and yet
we're still loosing blood; becoming beguiled.
So many stray cats in the civilian savanna,
aimlessly seeking names and second chances.
"This premises is under police video surveillance" -
hanging like ornaments from streetlamp poles.
-
Guarding the gates
of a dwindling dominion,
as the armies of Union and Grand
wait in their camps
for the rust to take hold
of her iron veins.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Miles of highway pass me by.
So many beautiful places.
Yet apon nights reflection I cannot even try.
She waits down near that red Georgia clay.
So many names to recall.
But only one brings a tear to my eyes to say.
Jasmine scented dreams hang like spanish moss
in my mind.
My soul does linger apon a southern shore
for the one I could never leave behind.
Ive travled the four corners
From the lights of Vegas to isolation of planes Montana.
I can forget all but my sweet savannah.
People many inviting yet none lure me to stay.
All night dinners frequent flyers.
loving like madmen only to vanish with the day.
We are pirates of land.
Giving all sacrfice the soul.
The tramps of being in demand.
Should I stray to oceans view.
Cocktails by the beach front bar.
Taste of peach mixed with strawberries and bannana.
So sweet to the taste apon painted lips.
But none can ever quench the thirst.
For the sunset of savanna
Nov 19, 2009
Nov 19, 2009 at 10:53 AM UTC
Lift me up,
let me drift on a tide of rising air.
I am strung below an ******** rush of burning air,
at the mercy of the pilot,
let me ride the sky before I die,
Sprinkle me with pepper dust,
not to make my eyes sore,
but to make me feel alive.
let me feel the sensation of the zephyr cruising past my face.
Enter my vision stage left,
the scene from above looking downwards,
savanna flowing,
rolling out protected and free,
as free as me,
just plain old me,
the lioness in the basket drifts,
she's watching the lioness snaring today's tea.
and so the delicate zebra falls,
as of today, she can run no more.
The lioness in the basket,she sips her tea from an old plastic mug,drifting onward,
regardless.
(C) Livvi
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
Midnight Bat & Shadow Monkey
play
with smoke magic in moonlit parks
shimmering indigo stars dance
around them.
Island ***** & Mountain Fox
speak
jazz slithers in southern drawls
dripping in thick maple syrup droplets
off their tongues.
Savanna Fire Lion & Volcanic Red Eagle
sing
lighthouse words in squall-like skies
warming velvet hugs embrace
their eyes.
Psychedelic Air Otter & Hip Breezy Dragonfly
banter;
smooth repartee in tricky dream worlds
volley, twist and swirl around
their lips.
Queen Water Dragon & Aqua Gypsy Satyr
dance
Drooling patterns with swaying hips
Dawn smiles & electric fingers tingle
their spines.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
The beautiful majestic mammals walk
Warmly with the perfection of family
As mother and father walk glowing
With a melting pride as their little one's
Gather around their feet
As they possess the greatest and
Largest hearts that float across this land
Grand parents follow close behind as they all
Live within the strength of a united family
The parents and grand parents
Great forests within themselves as their babies
Nestle against their solid legs like tree trunks
And shelter under huge protective bodies
Tuck under huge attentive ears
Blankets of listening love
All elephants know their priorities
As the well groomed predators
Who would desire to split are
Powerless against the energy of family
As great lions can only watch them
Softly pass through
Each elephant resembling a castle
As predators slam against
Huge thick grey walls of giant
Structures as there is no way in
Each castle bonded to each other
With the strongest and greatest gravitational love
As they create an impenetrable Kingdom
They are wild but can be obliging as they
Sometimes assist humans who like to carry
Their little kings and queens on their back
The little ones which need to be loved and looked after
They move together like a mobile mountain
As they pass through the savanna but each
Member knows the importance of getting
Out there to find food and water for
Ones they all love so very much
As they travel far and wide
Doing whatever it takes
Great paralyzing problems shrink
Within the force of family
As they lift large logs above their
Head to demonstrate to the world
Its obstacles are nothing against
Strength of family love in forward motion
Like money problems that scare those
Outside , are just smashed
Down like pathetic little twigs .
There is so much we can learn
From these giant family kingdoms
As they travel through from one generation to
The next
Softly and lovingly passing through
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
Thy bower is finished, fairest!
Fit bower for hunter's bride--
Where old woods overshadow
The green savanna's side.
I've wandered long, and wandered far,
And never have I met,
In all this lovely western land,
A spot so lovely yet.
But I shall think it fairer,
When thou art come to bless,
With thy sweet smile and silver voice,
Its silent loveliness.
For thee the wild grape glistens,
On sunny knoll and tree,
The slim papaya ripens
Its yellow fruit for thee.
For thee the duck, on glassy stream,
The prairie-fowl shall die,
My rifle for thy feast shall bring
The wild swan from the sky.
The forest's leaping panther,
Fierce, beautiful, and fleet,
Shall yield his spotted hide to be
A carpet for thy feet.
I know, for thou hast told me,
Thy maiden love of flowers;
Ah, those that deck thy gardens
Are pale compared with ours.
When our wide woods and mighty lawns
Bloom to the April skies,
The earth has no more gorgeous sight
To show to human eyes.
In meadows red with blossoms,
All summer long, the bee
Murmurs, and loads his yellow thighs,
For thee, my love, and me.
Or wouldst thou gaze at tokens
Of ages long ago--
Our old oaks stream with mosses,
And sprout with mistletoe;
And mighty vines, like serpents, climb
The giant sycamore;
And trunks, o'erthrown for centuries,
Cumber the forest floor;
And in the great savanna,
The solitary mound,
Built by the elder world, o'erlooks
The loneliness around.
Come, thou hast not forgotten
Thy pledge and promise quite,
With many blushes murmured,
Beneath the evening light.
Come, the young violets crowd my door,
Thy earliest look to win,
And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.
All day the red-bird warbles,
Upon the mulberry near,
And the night-sparrow trills her song,
All night, with none to hear.
2k
encamped on a barren savanna
a formaldehyde trick laid
beneath a palace of red canvas
carcasses of Noah's Ark
left for a menagerie of men
a spectacle of meat and bone
the tides of oddities come crashing
against the shores of spectators
the earth opens its hands to carry
the rails that lead an entourage of
grandeur at the ring master's ordinance
God's children in satin and sequins
Devil's work bared in ink and blood
ladies and gentlemen!
wooden pews for the congregation
occupied by followers seeking refuge
in the sacred acts of manipulation
enchantment for children
necromancy for those who walk
with hearts no longer beating
for the world they once knew
prepare to be amazed!
tight ropes are spun into webs
painted skin become prisms
nature's anomalies turned
into golden mythologies
figments of A Vision
brought to life by an apparition
the most extravagant extravaganza!
and the world burns anew
contemporary tales are told through
a splendor of color and brilliance
in a palace of red canvas
lay the corpses of humanity's finest
a formaldehyde trick
of preservation and deception
come one come all!
an asylum for those consumed
a sanctuary for those comforted
by the art of celebrated illusion
an institution built on maneuvering
the depths of every man's heart
welcome to the circus
sit back and enjoy the show!
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
It's fine to look back to see how
far you have come. Don't
dwell, the past should
stay behind you.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC
As the wind unwinds the surface
The Savanna nods to The Shepherd gently
yet every steps he took left deeply-rooted footprints
He carelessly steps on her wildflowers,
and while he rest, he'd pluck some of hers
deep down he knows he's in dead end
The Savanna couldn't help her curiosity,
so she asked where is he heading off
and why he tossed his compass halfway to the ground
On the spur of a moment, The Shepherd fainted
his throat choked; like he wasn't allowed to say a word
little did The Savanna knows he was cursed
"I am no use of you," said The Shepherd.
"I am cursed to walk on my path with me alone;
I am cursed to left my soul in every steps I took
I am cursed to get lost in the midst of unknown!"
The Savanna embraces him tenderly
'tho every time he bawls out and enraged
for countless time she failed but she's persistent
"Let me take care of you," insists The Savanna
"Until your broken compass works again;
until you know where you are heading towards
—until then, let me help you."
And just like that,
The Shepherd found within her
his long-time quest; his very own oasis in the desert
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 12:12 PM UTC
Two sapling oaks, grow side by side, in the soft silt savanna swamp
The sun awoke, and shadows hide, their roots begin to stomp
The oaks move the earth, and stretch the sky, as they yearn towards each other’s touch
With their growing girth, and branches high,
Purposefully extend, to feel each other’s clutch
They grow, slow, and methodically
Taking their time, placing each leaf in the sun.
They reach, each other hydrologically
Sharing the wealth beneath the ground as one.
As decades turn into centuries, an exhaustive passing of time
The mighty oaks are living free, in the middle of their prime
Yet, still they yearn, for one another touch
To have their bristle branches brush in the warm wind as such
Though… a century more may need to pass.
For the old oak trees to touch
Patiently waiting in the soft silt savanna grass
The long time doesn’t seem so much
Apr 30, 2023
Apr 30, 2023 at 10:47 AM UTC
*Ask me about Gulu,ask me about
the area associated with instability
ask me about one of the farthest towns
I was there,and clad in my red gown
ask me about clouds,I've seen them thick
ask me about whatever, just handpick
Karuma falls, their sprays of violence
savanna,swamps, what an ambiance
it was, how sweet the journey was
so secure a town, forget years of wars
the people,calm unless fray they must
ask me about the cost of living there
some of us couldn't dare bear
Ask me about Gulu town and I'll say
Go and prove,go see for yourself
How a town can be secure for sure
Go and see definitions of distance
go and stop associating it with resistance
ask me about straight roads in Africa, straight as a ruler
only hills and slopes reminding you they're roads
ask me for hell hot sun and the winter cooler
ask me about very volatile beads of tropical rain
and I'll tell you find it in Gulu,rivers of splash drain
ask me about tourist sites and I'll show you the route to take
informing you that the adventure to make
is to the north of the country if you haven't,I have
you might have not realised those are a people with love
ask me about places with trees from shrub to pine
ask me about Gulu and I'll praise it overtime
I saw no skeletons, bullets, no wounds or scars
they are only probably left in hearts or healed
the night sky dotted with patches of pregnant clouds and stars
even nature lives a serene life,the bottle of that history was sealed
Ask me for the reasons Uganda is the pearl
I've seen most,in the west,the East, now north,
for all it's worth
I only need to venture the south to astutely say I've seen them all*
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 5:11 AM UTC
**** Decency! I want to live as an animal, marauding the savanna.
To shade beneath the acacia and find excited peace only when and where the shadows hide.
To feed from the tawny grasslands and rest in the hollows of concentric sienna and obsidian.
To procure the lay of the land through deliberate exploration.
To find solace in the peach hillsides that languidly lean into vermillion valleys.
To discover that there is no edge of the world, only beautiful quirks and catenaries where the beginning is the end.
To drink from time, the cool blue stream it is, and truly taste the flux of kinetic molecules.
To prey on moments and capture them with a swift strike of the paw of perception.
To roam.
To be.
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 3:48 PM UTC
I love you as a deer loves the embrace of sun-dappled groves,
An oak the earth, a robin the nesting crooks of leafy branches.
This love comes naturally.
You keep me grounded, and give me a home in which I am free to grow, entangled in you.
I love you as an eagle loves the lifting currents of the wind,
A dolphin the waves, the tides the pull of the circling moon.
This love comes naturally.
You give me strength, the courage to strive to be a better person, not tomorrow, but today.
I love you like a lion’s roar echoing across the savanna,
A moonlit kiss, Olympian gold glittering in the eyes of a cheering crowd.
This love come naturally.
You awaken my passion, stir my hearts’ depths unlocking feelings I’d never knew existed, till now.
I love you like no one I have loved before,
And for reasons singularly different
Than I will ever love again.
You are my rock, my muse, my fire.
I have never loved anyone
So naturally.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
Lucid in a lush landscape, baked by burning Savanna sun
The undeveloped endlessness all encompassing
My feet sink into the tender tissue
Of Green Mother and Infinite Father’s lovechild
The watering hole is overpopulated with thirsty families
Suspiciously inspecting the albino primate
I make undeterred deliberate steps skirting hydration
Drawn to his penetrating and omniscient orbs
A genuflect to show respect, my head bowed and gaze on ground
The mighty titan mimicked me and extended peaceful welcome
Gradually I rose and full-figured, approached
Warily, minding his twin osteoscimitars
Hello friend, he said
I heard you coming from several years away
I have been waiting for you
In a thousand forms and figures as the shadowy shapes you doubted
But Wisdom, how?
Baffled now, as I follow worn creases of age
That line his cracked and withered face and date his hardened hide
Come see yourself as I see you, he said
For we are as old as your mind is young
And he led me to the liquid, still and reflective
My own visage now ancient
You often sought me out, and I never hid
But I always came too late
I am with you in every action
Every success and every mistake
I was your hand when you learned to hold on
And your ears when you learned to listen
I was your adrenaline when you lost control
And your uncut blood tunnels when you learned to live
I was your arms when you hugged a forgiving embrace
And the nausea you felt when you lied
I did not mourn you when you died and scattered
For you returned to me as many; come, we have much to teach and learn
We will raise the bulls of a generation
Without another word, I mounted sacred pachyderm
And we became a vortex for wandering energy universal and fluid
The venerable sage and I rode as equals through the night
The savanna sky resting its tired eye at last
Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 6:36 PM UTC
The lowly amber circles attune
on the savanna grass of Serengeti
as the glow penetrates our tent
where the hungry hyenas nudge
At the dawn of four thirty
when dew recollects on the green
and the lioness pawn are grounded
at the lawn where we once laid
You are possessive and protective
rejective and a handsome danger
hypnotized by spells of the acacia trees
dancing under the thousand stars
As I unlearn the memoirs of the past
within the decorative adventures
where the world was ours to hold
in shades of deep blue and reds
Float baby, stow on the highways
where we changed to hues of black
with beautiful stacked memories
in the wild chasing the leopards
Flow baby, stroll on the railways
where we felt a million tunes
tracking hunts and ******* rants
cautious of the predatory play
Fight baby, sew the sutured heart
where once a love was a lullaby
at the drop of the Kilimanjaro
unfreed from all the carry-ons
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 3:48 PM UTC
We, lost Africans
left the savanna
to follow the stars
leaving the ground
to stride with arms
down by our sides
to inherit the earth
and dirt of other lands
following the caravan
of sacred elephants
taking off our black
helmets to discover
other atmospheres
learning to breathe
here as well as there
drinking and singing
like blood thirsty
tigers the dangerous
songs of maps drawn
and long forgotten.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
Hari
my feet are raw and bleeding
How many more lives
must I tread this mortal path?
The savanna sun blisters
my tender skin
and mirages as real
as this pain beckon for me
to take refuge in them
Still Ramakrishna
with a hoarse voice
I chant your divine name
follow Your lotus
footsteps
beneath desert stars
past lonely, melancholy cactus
red sentinel canyons and
cow skulls staring
blankly into space
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
The height of summer
days become the hot embracing
during
passionate love making
it's hard to breathe
torso behaves like pancake
tossing and turning on the mattress
body is a fire spitting dragon
roasting every corner of the bed
or the grill if you will
mosquitoes are lions on the savanna
lying in wait by the river
so many spots to start
cravings dragged toward the abyss
to drink in the sweetened coolness
birds in the tree
screaming from the heat
leaves curled up and blinded in fear
the earth is a fresh bun in the steamer
flowers faint left and right
amidst smell of charring
the sun laughs loudly
sending chills down some spines
when i see a lake i wanna dive in
i don't care about the gossip
or the hazard at the deepest
I'm a cheater that's been cheating
beyond the worldly paradigm
tears of rain are swirling in the sky
the winds hide on the other side
everyone in torment
expecting
plenty of sweating and swearing
all kinds of fans waving and spinning.
Jun 1, 2023
Jun 1, 2023 at 7:24 AM UTC
She wanders the streets unnoticed
past the news stand
with a front page giraffe
and letters in a foreign language
she barely speaks
sometimes she sits on the edge
of a bench or a litterbox
to rest her legs and her sore stilettoed
feet
She doesn't talk much
she has no friends
just work
and people
even the media
leave her alone
Maybe if she was a giraffe
with big eyes
and an enormous mythological heart
to pump blood through her neck
to her head
and to pump news around the world
Maybe then
someone would notice her?
For what news is she
compared to a giraffe
put to sleep humanely
purposefully
to secure its species
then displayed in scientific lectures
as insight for future generations
and lastly fed to lions
as if it had died on the savanna
But what purpose has she
that girl on the street
other than serving urban lions
she knows
no one will care
no one will learn from her experience
let alone from her death
by lions
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
there is a seperation
a pain of seperation
such as a seperation
that only lovers specialise in
where the prevention of thought
is like a fortress overrun
where trampling terrains of concern
stampede upon the praire of the mind
transforming it into a soft savanna
of wating engagements
that murmer with comforing enchantments
lays upon such pain of seperation
as that of a perforated scar
seared across the heart
bringing tickles of soft warm tears
to the cheeks
the happist time becomes
a chasm only conquerd
by that gulping unification
of embrace
where soft burning lips
meet in that unknown
but express language
of clasped reunion
it is that pain, that awful pain
that only lovers know
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 6:25 AM UTC