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Olivia Kent Sep 2013
Blood red plain of killing fields.
Lioness stalks her prey.
Tragic zebra separated from the herd.
As lady lion quiet as bird.
Creeps through concealing long grass.
Undergrowth.
Undercover.
Trying not to rustle.

Lioness has savvy.
Not Zebra mares' saviour today.
No games.
She flies.
Hear the wildebeest scatter.
They know she's there.
The birds, made them aware.

Assails from the side.
One fell swoop and zebra's down.
The other quadrupeds return from their scarper and scatter.
No fear today.
The lioness is fed.
She is not greedy.
Nature beat her quarry.
From the trees emerge her cubs to take their fill.
The laws of the wild instilled!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Thought I'd write something simple x
Pagan Paul Dec 2018
.
Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat
and is getting strange looks from the family cat,
cleaning its claws and making them sharper,
if I were the goose then I would scarper.
.


Pagan Paul (24/12/18)
.
Just something silly for xmas eve.
.
.
Tina ford Jun 2015
When the sun sets on the Mersey bank,
And the clouds have gone to sleep,
When the promenade falls quiet and still,
The Mersey fairies peep,

When the tide has left for fairer shores,
And the boats are at their berth,
When the moon shimmers on the silvery bed,
They appear from the ancient earth,

Like fireflies beneath the dock,
They search through fields of mud,
Finding objects to take back home,
Like bottle tops and wood,

They flutter on the river breeze,
They're carried to the wreck,
They stay and play here for a while,
Throwing pebbles from the deck,

Whisping in and out of trees,
And flying up the street,
They stop outside a cottage door,
And wipe their muddy feet,

They creep in through the broken frame,
Into the cottage mill,
The smell of burning coal is strong,
They settle on the sill,

They warm their fragile bodies,
And shake about their wings,
Their comforts interrupted,
By an angelic voice that sings,

Upstairs there is a little girl,
Who combs her locks so long,
They watch with eyes of gold and green,
As she continues with her song,

The sprites see their reflection,
In the looking glass afoot,
They see their muddy faces,
Their clothing full of soot,

They scarper pretty quickly,
And cause a noisy thud,
They whisp and fly there way back home,
There home beneath the mud.
Olivia Kent Aug 2015
Funny moments.
Sitting and thinking about rabbits jumping around on sunny banks.
The children chuckle as they watch them.
Shush children, you'll scare them away.
It's pure natural love watching animals at play.
The dog's getting excited.
You crouch behind her, you don't want her to scare the bunnies away.
Strangely they're oblivious to our presence.
I guess they must be used to us.
A kind of relationship dynamic.
It's as if they recognise us from yesterday.
We left them some crisp carrot tops.
Maybe that's why they trust us.
A loud voice booms out from behind us..one they're not familiar with.
"You coming home love?"
He waves his air rifle, menacingly.
Perhaps he fancies, rabbit pie!
Not on my watch, that's for sure.
Run little rabbits, run.
He's not a farmer, but he sports a gun.
They scarper back into their warren.
Post haste.
Phew!
(C) LIVVI
andy fardell Oct 2012
Down the entry ..up we ran
Fighting ,shouting, laughing cans
Days of old where nothing mattered
Play outside until ya shattered

Knock on doors and make a scarper
Light a banger .. could n be dafter
Chase ya mates on bikes all rusty
Pulling wheelies ...fetching plasters

Build a den from scraps of wood
Hide for ages till its grub
Bottles sought to take to shop
Swap for sweeties gobs that stop

Not a phone nor worried sight
When you turn up late at night
Eat ya nosh see Kojak chase
Fire lit ya in dads place

Jimmy's on all snuggled in
flick 3 channels theres nothing on  
Of to bed with ***** feet
Only bath time once a week
Macstoire Feb 2014
Tongue tingling our footsteps as we tread along the coast
Till the tingling tangles and our eyes become deceived
Footsteps fumbling and the walk becomes a lean
What's going on Bruce?
Well we're trippin' East

Steadily stepping our way along Aus Coast
Undulating pathway the challenge of our feet
Our whole self overwhelmed with intense jungle heat
Drips a dropping from each and every pore of skin
Heats a rising as we are headed East

We puzzle a pace set by deceived perspective
And encounter Koala kicking back in the tree
Worrying for impression set by our wibbly wobbly knees
And now a questioning are my eyes playing with me?
Kalaidescoped koala eyes double dare our quest East

A pause in the pathway proves a place of rest
Creates chance to cool off our oven cooked sheen
Watching waves crash and mesmerised in sea
So laid back now stretched beyond a lean
Relaxing now we're siding it most East

Fumbling forwards fulfils quest to reach giant fan
Our minds not now making life so sensibly
Not so sure of anything with any certainty
But no question of whether it could be more perfectly
Rewards been given grand on our venture East

Settling so high at the lighthouse we reach success
Where we're mesmerised in the motion of the mountains breathing
Exhaling clouds a twirling as horizon is swirling
Seas and skies ahead are all entrancing
Eyes lost in a vision of East

Toes treading frogs squished beneath our feet
Sky shadows darkness so we start to venture back
Hunting bin for beverage but there's severe lack
So continue with the liquid slowly spreading in my sack
Senses stumbled from our venture East

Journey into jungle hope to find direction home
Darkness steals our vision so not sure it's right
Saved slightly by flashing glow of poi light
But can only hear, not see the creatures of the night
No knowledge now if we head West or East

Heats arising further trapped within the trees
Tallest takes spiders on so we can travel comfortably
Arms a held wide holding us steadily
Then find our way to freedom reaching beach excitedly
Made it through the jungle of the East

But continues good feeling as dip skinny in the sea
Feet squeaking sand and sea crashing on our skin
Try to fight them but these waves will always win
So to scarper now and go in hunt of green
The final piece to complete adventure East

Mission soon complete when we meet Brother Bear
The night turns trippier from that moment there
Free hugs a given but instead create a scare
Crazy woman shouting and men with fake hair
Realising we are still trippin' East

So at our home for now, the Art Factory
I think we find it be the place we love the most
Thick natural jungle our most fantastic host
Loving life purely but never one to boast
Still sure this is the haven of the East

Lay out flat and eyes still lost in the sky
With colours changing it's a sign I'm still high
Can't count the insects they chirp in overdrive
And waves crashing like the distance is a lie
Senses strongly active here in the East

Journey started East and further went
Minds far and eyes long
Up and down and on and on
As far East as we could have gone
Syron Bay, NSW, Australia. 19th December 2013
Adeline Dean Apr 2013
You think you've won
you think you've picked me over
until there's nothing left to spit on,
but that's your mistake
you choose to be that dumb.
You think I'm going to let it go
watch your cruel words rebound and sting,
but it just goes to show you don't know me at all
let the games begin....
I shrug off my girl guise
yeah, you didn't know I could be a first class *****,
I smile at you and bare my fangs
then see the flicker of a nervous twitch.
I've taken you by surprise
you say fear isn't in your vocabulary
but I can see it now in your eyes,
I've got the hold over you
and you know it
I could finish you in a sentence
and for you, I would blow it.
I'm shaking all over
with both nerves and anger
all you want to do is **** me
yet I know I can't die,
I loom over you
with power and size
I see you swallow
then you back off and turn
scarper away to your own hell
while holes in your back I burn.
I let out my breath
but I don't feel bad about ******* you,
because you underestimated one thing
the fact that I can be a ***** too.
Donall Dempsey May 2016
*** & RED BULL

Out of our skull
on *** & Red Bull

we play football
with a grinning

plastic skull
(retrieved from a skip)  

using the Momento Mori
for a drunken kickabout.

You dribble
& drool it.

You shoot
I save it

tipping it over
an imaginary crossbar.


Spectacular!

I bathe
in an imaginary roar.

I clutch
the skull

to my chest
begin to spout:

'Toby
(or not)  
Toby

... that is the jug! '

'Oi...! ' you shout
'Me Lord Hamlet

...over here
on de head! '

I dropp kick
the skull

(grinning still)  

in your general
direction.

I can see
two of you

& don't know who
to pass it too.

You rise
beautifully to

the occasion
losing a stiletto
in the process

your body arched
like a sublime salmon

jumping
upstream

you head the skull home
past my groping outstretched fingertips

'GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLGOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! '
you scream

your blouse
over your head

in exultant
celebration.

A 'Now then...now then' police man
confiscates our skull.

Tells us
to ****** off.


'Awwww Ref! '
we argue but

he ain't
having any of it.

Hanging on
to each other

you ululating.

We stagger
down the street

look back
to see

P.C. Plod

mis-kick the skull
through someone's sleeping

window
crashtinkletinkle.

We wonder if
he'll have to

arrest
himself.

We scarper
in case he tries

to blame it
on innocent us.
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
A  brisk  gale  wind
     blows  thru  my
clanking  gears-
thunder  shears-
and  my  riven ­ ears
then  hear  nothing:
but  thru  clairaudience
I  will  ever  be ­ a
master  of  everything
that   ravishes  the
world  beneath  your
feet.

The  pompous  skies
dri­nk  up  the  seas,
to  drop  thus  upon
my  eyes  in  beads;
and ­ as  I  pen  my
muse's  advice,  the
ink  disappears  from
the  s­heets;  and  watcher
dieties-in  the  third  choir
of  the  celes­tial  hierarchy-
now  have  useless  wings.

Oh,  mold  my  verna­l
features  into  a  candle
effigy-  watch  them  gleam-
then  gr­ow  so  low  by  high
degrees; and  the  wax  melting  by
the  heat  of  flame  -to  once  again­
downturn  my  merry  cheeks.  So  if
you  please,  masquerade  a­s  a  blessed
princess  -before   I  am  consumed  completely-
and  I  will  play  both  parts  o­f  the  duelling
princes.  One  a  man  -the  other  a  machine.
­
Go,  rendezvous  with  my doyenne madness!

Indeed  the  tryst  could  cause  my  discarnate
ghost­  to  scarper.  I  will  wrap  a  cloak  around
my Joy  and  Sadn­ess   -pleased that I  might
hide  my  spare  character; or  at  least  proclaim  thee
dressed  a  bit  sharper.
Donall Dempsey May 2017
*** & RED BULL

Out of our skull
on *** & Red Bull

we play football
with a grinning

plastic skull
(retrieved from a skip)  

using the Momento Mori
for a drunken kickabout.

You dribble
& drool it.

You shoot
I save it

tipping it over
an imaginary crossbar.

Spectacular!

I bathe
in an imaginary roar.

I clutch
the skull

to my chest
begin to spout:

'Toby
(or not)  
Toby

... that is the jug! '

'Oi...! ' you shout
'Me Lord Hamlet

...over here
on de head! '

I drop kick
the skull

(grinning still)  

in your general
direction.

I can see
two of you

& don't know who
to pass it too.

You rise
beautifully to

the occasion
losing a stiletto
in the process

your body arched
like a sublime salmon

jumping
upstream

you head the skull home
past my groping outstretched fingertips

'GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLGOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! '
you scream

your blouse
over your head

in exultant
celebration.

A 'Now then...now then' police man
confiscates our skull.

Tells us
to ****** off.

'Awwww Ref! '
we argue but

he ain't
having any of it.

Hanging on
to each other

you ululating.

We stagger
down the street

look back
to see

P.C. Plod

mis-kick the skull
through someone's sleeping

window
crashtinkletinkle.

We wonder if
he'll have to

arrest
himself.

We scarper
in case he tries

to blame it
on innocent us.
Daniel eason Oct 2018
The seasons are diminishing because of our ignorance and pollution
If we work together now we may find a solution
Unnatural objects float in our seas
We poison ourselves, animals and waste trees
Will we ever learn that these sources won't last forever
They don't just come and go, just like our weather
Hopefully someday we shall learn
Or just end in misery, regret and yearn


Our land is fenced off and sold to greed
It forces our nation to pay for feed
How long will we put up with this battery chicken scheme
Is it just me or do you know what I mean
Something's not right here, I think I know what's going on
Will I get through to people before I am gone
These people who rule us and force us to repeat our day
couldn't be more corrupt
There must be a better way


The destruction of our world is almost here
Our civilisation scarper in fear
Why don't we realise and change our modus operandi
We fight and steal its like taking a child's last piece of candy
We are failing animals, nature and mankind
Our forests, mountains and insects you'll find
When oceans, rivers and lakes get so polluted
No longer our trees will be able of being fruited
Will we take note before its too late
Or just sit in silence and ignore what we create
A poem on pollution and how we need to
work together for the sake of mother earth
What's on your mind Facebook?
find anything?

The girl at school led me behind the bike shed,
I thought to look at her bike
if I'd have known then what I know now
I'd have pressed 'like'

That was sometime in the last century but memory mentions me
now and again.

Ps
I'm on a train which is going quite fast
heading no doubt to the dim and distant,
just passed
Bethnal Green.

The city rears up like a tiger on heat
I get to my feet and scarper.
Kate Copeland Sep 2019
she didn.t read that
much into the fact
that she.d given up
because of the better
idea not to scarper and
to feel not to cry
all she wanted was some
body to nestle next to
with sun under the clouds
how touching to know
he was there all these years
offering me more while I
was still settling for days
more than I expected
in the end is she; are we
comfortable with the world and
survivors in our happenstance

as we are.
Donall Dempsey Jan 2019
*** & RED BULL

Out of our skull
on *** & Red Bull

we play football
with a grinning

plastic skull
(retrieved from a skip)  

using the Memento mori
for a drunken kickabout.

You dribble
& drool it.

You shoot
I save it

tipping it over
an imaginary crossbar.

Spectacular!

I bathe
in an imaginary roar.

I clutch
the skull

to my chest
begin to spout:

'Toby
(or not)  
Toby

... that is the jug! '

'Oi...! ' you shout
'Me Lord Hamlet

...over here
on de head! '

I dropp kick
the skull

(grinning still)  

in your general
direction.

I can see
two of you

& don't know who
to pass it too.

You rise
beautifully to

the occasion

losing a stiletto
in the process

your body arched
like a sublime salmon

jumping
upstream

you head the skull home
past my groping outstretched fingertips

'GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLGOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! '
you scream

your blouse
over your head

in exultant
celebration.

A 'Now then...now then' police man
confiscates our skull.

Tells us
to ****** off.

'Awwww Ref! '
we argue but

he ain't
having any of it.

Hanging on
to each other

you ululating.

We stagger
down the street

look back
to see

P.C. Plod

miskick the skull
through someone's sleeping

window
crashtinkletinkle.

We wonder if
he'll have to

arrest
himself.

We scarper
in case he tries

to blame it
on innocent us.

— The End —