"slyness" poems
Make your choices
Make them well
Make them firm
And do not dwell
The crevice beckons
Gaping wide
The patience and moral
Of time and tide
Subtle hints to change your mind
Breaking passion in its prime
Gentle nudges, slight whispers
Slow steps, slyness sublime
Pave the way, set in stone
Bleeding thorns, satisfying rose
Brighten path, shining through
Awaken from your long repose
So walk the plank
They’ll tell you all
For the blinding light
At the end of it all
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
*you're haunting me still
why?
vibrations from your exit still lingering in my bones
they crack and quake
grating against themselves
why aren't they healing?
these wounds that I have been so persistently nursing
why can I not mend myself of this?
the needle is too dull
the thread is fraying
alone in this room
with your ghost still sitting next to me
gently touching my hand, laying its head in my lap to play with its hair
smiling
laughing
a perception
not the reality
I keep my heart in a box under the bed
next to treasured memories of a memory
I want to burn it all
I want to give it back to you
I want to keep it
it makes me sick
when its dark I wish to travel to far away mystical places
dance among the stars on cotton candy roller skates
yet all I get is you
your face
fetal position, clenched jaws, toss and turn
tortured still
in a state meant for rest
dream catchers strategically placed
they're meant to save me from you
ward off and expel YOU
yet my soldiers of the night
my dream wardens
they're no match for the slyness of you
you slip through as if made of air and elegance
replaying all your proudest moments of my misery
ive never felt such indifference toward someone
I want you gone
out of my head
I wish I could peel you from my skin
wring you from my marrow
shed the skin of this serpent's memory
wake to a new day
finally feeling good
finally feeling anything
finally feeling*
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Sands of time
tinkling through an obscure artefact
the light in you as you recognise your own.
Why and how are long-trodden tracks, forgotten
as my mind unfurls with a fresh green vine
whence before the stubborn old clung dry, and crisp,
those bitter octogenarians of perception.
R&M;, those sweet surprises
winking from behind a hidden door
were small shards in the bright crystal of our day
that felt woven only for us.
You trailed your fingers in the lukewarm water
And across my neck, both, at every opportunity
the warmth of the day
to turn to burning heat of us as light and inhibition fell.
'.....a thousand kisses deep', you read
And those you gave enthralled me
Cruel-clever Fate, to plant us as seeds apart
that sad, never understood genus or cure
to find now the curlicues of tendrils touch
And all to make pure, beautiful, joyful sense
our flashpoint clear in its providence.
How clear and fine, luminous, perfect
your touch and kindness and intellect drew
these feelings from myself, not forgotten
but rather, felt in that day anew.
an older......deeper.....creature are you
curled in dark and bookshelves and things unmachinated
You're art, and never be apologetic
your sorrows, twisted mad moments and lust
sift through you to paper, golden dust
and I find you entrancing
in no hesitation
still, I find I've one eye on the snare.
A red orb signalled our day into night
red wine and red running beneath my skin
I see you so clearly my dear, in mind's eye
and know the feel of your hair in my hands
and your elegance contrasts with slyness and salt
and the glint in your eye with its knowing purport.
Forgive me, I cannot relay
all I felt
forgive me, I cannot I know, more I can give?
but know, incandescence you drew from me surely
for you, kindred soul, have reminded me- live.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 3:27 AM UTC
HOW I MOURNED MADIBA IN EXCESS
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected])
Rationality is antediluvian
Emotionalism is post napoleon
Shrewdness comes with the queen
Slyness a game of head boys
Strength ist meine Kampf
Bad dirgical mourning is mine
The dark son of Africa
My billow is love for humanity
Giving a **** the tick where it is due
Mourning heroes of the world
That battled for songs of freedom
In which cradled I the son of zinjathropus
To day Nelson Mandela is born
He is sired a new and again anew
Not the son of a chief but humbly
In humility as son of humanity
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
Her fortress is built with walls that are impenetrable
So high up that it thwarted other men’s efforts of ever succeeding
It gave me a sense of pride when I came along and broke through her defenses
To be able to make her composure crumble to pieces with the slyness of my tongue.
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 9:48 PM UTC
After repeated inquiries
into the state of my mind
you
resort to lingering side-
long glances, trying to
see
the truth behind my
steadfast denials and
imitation smiles.
You attempt slyness, but
I'm
quick to notice these
analytical gazes. It's not
your fault that I am
both unable and unwilling
to allow you into
the maze of my mind.
Though hurtful
to us both, it's
just so
much easier to lash out
than to let you in.
There's simply nothing
good
in there, you see. Trust
me when I say the terrors
flinging themselves
at
my brain will gladly
make you their prey too.
No one is safe from my
sabotage.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
The road looks bumpy from down here
I'm sorry that sleepwalking me loves jackhammers
And wondering what else she can mess up
Without a concept to time to tell her when to stop
I'm sorry about my gasoline decisions and my flaming attitude
I burn everything I touch
Nothing near me goes undamaged
Nothing near me stays
I can no longer tell if I'm setting these fires while I'm awake or not
Though I doubt it even makes a difference
Somethings crept it's way under my skin
I haven't been myself for weeks
Every word seems to roll off your tongue in just the wrong way
I'm not saying it your fault
I swear i see a slyness in your eyes
I'm not saying its your fault
My pens have run dry and so I have I
I have said all I can say
I must now be on my way
I wish nothing but the best of you
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 8:03 PM UTC
the stories of women you write sonnets upon , or the ones on caricatures
i consume.
they're all fiction to me.
for the women i know are all looking out the window, wandering into endless abyss.
or waiting on tiptoes - to be tied down
in the bonds of 'holy' matrimony.
when they were young,
living on dictums of
father and brothers was an
unspoken, but frequently
enforced trend.
now no longer lean saplings, (who could be stomped upon with ease)
but sprawling, majestic trees
with branches chartering territories
that remain forbidden for the tree.
their offshoots
are sheared (for they can't be crushed with ease)
in the name of honour.
to ebb out all the figments of
rebellion, the tree
might hold in it's gamut.
still tamed in the garden,
a new gardener comes in place.
a slightly younger one, who
comes with his own tenets.
restraining her with a
strap, in the name of modesty.
he satiates himself by strangling
last shreds of revolt
her father couldn't slay.
the woman is caged in bars of shame,
all in the name of honour.
yet again.
why is it that the women i know only lessen with age?
but the men smirk upon,only inflating their slyness. as the years grow on them.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 6:12 AM UTC
How odd is it the way it plays,
How weird is it the way it says,
How dreadful it is when it gaze,
And to realize that it's all a maze.
With lips of slyness curling up.
yet eyes as dead as perished fish,
With fist of hatred clenching tight,
yet words of kindness with a wish.
Hold the knife, the rope and pills,
Hold it tight and never give up;
Hold the thread that keeps you alive,
Hold it till it finally snaps.
Keep your head high and clear,
Keep your minds straight and sheer,
Keep your thoughts away from smears,
And make decisions by your fears.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
As quickly as it was,
the diamond shattered,
misunderstanding,
accidental and
simple mis-branding,
life paints me fragile,
and my song of songs
becomes a song for sorrow,
and poor standing.
Trying to understand why
my genuineness is always mistaken,
for slyness or demanding.
Say a prayer for the sparrows,
for the ones who fall and the Father sees,
say a prayer they return safely
at night, to their homes
in the trees.
-Dm 2017
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 5:40 AM UTC
A heart full of wine
and liquor-spotted lips.
A backless dress
and an inch to breathe.
Inch of garment, inch of air
suffocating underneath starlit blue
I, an abstract decoration, in your cabin of lies.
Touched me when you felt it, as if I was the skin
of a bear draped over a bookshelf,
murdered and witnessed first-
hand. Red.
Do it ‘cause you love me
The pillow, a shade of red,
you placed beneath my hair, curling it between fingers.
Pouted whispers across my neck
Do it ‘cause you love me
Slyness and sadness gleaming in your left eye.
A birthmark on your bicep, the hue of mulch surrounding flowers
holding flowers in place
Roots with a fixed circumference
Petals with a uniform height
Silk of a widow’s nightgown never did compare
to the softness of your skin on my skin, hands, lips, body whole
oh, dear, oh dear an entire body blanketing mine.
Your stance, superior, and I, an invalid, counting cars and
tracing with my eyes the plaid of boxers.
A predator recovering from a pounce.
Purple veins pierced through skin,
a sunrise just below layers of naked,
parallel lines racing through wrists, legs, a forehead
differing shades of her own hair envelope her fingers,
delicate and stronger, two limbs of power.
Her body breaks; rubble in a storm.
The town’s on fire, my love. Lightning
struck dust on the south building.
God is real, living within your color.
I wanted your temper (I’m sorry) tempest to
flood me with heat, scalding my ribs
and charing all flesh.
Patiently waiting for renewal,
and you didn’t.
Lavender veins,
my hair was the darkest black,
and I faded into shadows
following you.
A dumb little girl who took her ******* off whenever you said she could.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
Will I ever define love?
The trouble with this, twisty-fickle-phenomena,
This, celebrated emotion – and it is just an emotion,
This, elusive heart-thrumming, head-spinning, pleasure,
A pleasure not even eclipsed by unmatched wealth,
Not surpassed by the most prized possessions.
In fact, even prized possessions, coveted things of beauty,
(Insignificant as they are to the wise and knowledgeable,)
Have an attachment akin to love, a kind of love, I suppose,
At least to those dumb enough to think possessions are special,
Who no doubt gaze longingly at what is simply ‘a thing’.
Maybe a rare ‘thing’, but ‘a thing’ all the same,
No, I’m talking of love for another, caring affection,
Adoring eyes for a living breathing creature,
Maybe even an animal, a pet, but more so,
The love of another human, a special person.
This is a little ‘tricksy’ is it not? Hmm? Yes,
For such a love encompasses many things,
Often runs riot in the mind, tingling the nerves,
Experiencing loyalty, betrayal, honour, slyness,
Sacrifice, greed, trust, duplicity, selfishness, sharing,
Because, well, one never knows, not really, no.
This magical dreamlike emotion, and it is an emotion,
Is different for us all, for one person's love,
Can be another’s flight of fancy, an escapism,
For some, it is a lethal weapon, so deadly, so cruel,
While for others, it is the most beautiful thing on Earth,
Yet, it inspires the most horrendous fits of jealousy known.
Love, real love, imagined love, astral love,
Consummated and unconsummated love,
Love of the heart, love of the mind, love of dreams,
All, are in reality, true enigmas, beyond explanation,
I am in love, I am a lover, I adore love, all kinds of love,
I fall in and out of love, as do many, I know love,
I can sense, touch, taste, even smell love,
And yet, for all of this, I wonder,
Will I ever define love?
©Paul Chafer 2014
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
I’m an Octopus.
So many people believe that the perfect spirit animal for them is a tiger, or a snake, or some sort of extremely powerful and world known animal to match their courage or slyness or amazing strength, and I respect that, but today I have realised that my perfect animal would be a ********* Octopus.
I mean think about it, when scared or in danger, they disappear into their back ground, and when they’re in a tight spot, they can just slip out as fast as they slipped in. They’re also great multi-taskers, and I guess that having 8 limbs would be great in the situations I get into.
Yeah, if I ever needed to have a spirit animal to guide me, I hope to god it would be an Octopus
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
Elegance, is it?
For me to address you dearly
Surely, you felt my heart pouring for you
But 'respond'?
Meh, lazy as you are
Harmony plays together
Illusions form in dark matter
A succubus like you
Tears men heart out apart
Meh, my reply back to you
For what goes around, comes around
Are you not green in envy?
Are you hiding your face?
Foolish
You deserted me
Yet, you want to mend it up
May light guide you
Purify, if you may
Tho, you may be a sting in the ****
You designated arrow truly aimed for my heart
The slyness of yours is truly cunning
For a she-beast who has an appetite for gentlemen
For now, I left it empty
For my cup is always half-full
Unlike the ego of yours
The Orochi of the west
Babbles in the likeliness of mine
Of the way you strut and fret
But fear not as no grudge is hold
For I am a guy that is bold
You are crashing
But you are no wave
A title in the simplest matter
For a woman like you to behave
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
His eyes said disinterest,
his hair said maintenance.
His smile said slyness,
and his laugh said cruelty,
but all my heart said was 'kiss him',
so that's what I did.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 9:32 AM UTC
The rain taps on the window
Asking
Ever so politely to be let in
The wind, a horse of a different colour
Charges through itself
Roaring as slams into the glass barrier
It can't get through
Whining, screaming even
Begging to enter
Pleading to send it's icy gusts over my bones
Freezing them, making them brittle enough to shatter
But let us forget not about the rain
As polite as it is, slyness comes also
At least with the wind
You know what it wants
But the rain
Will drown you while your still breathing
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
veiled slyness
with beauty that
deceives, those
of whose eyes too
are naive.
-qyf
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC
He started each day with a joke,
Often simple, but if useful baroque.
The listeners repeated them,
The circle completed them
Til a sense of good fellowship woke.
People laughed till their sides started splitting.
And—with their underwear no longer fitting,
Their punch lines were showing
With the north winds still blowing
There were strains of the humor transmitting!
The puns that he used were outrageous.
He was forced to reduce them by stages.
The CDC said
Epidemics they spread,
The guffaws were extremely contagious!
But the humor was also a cure
For the pains that they'd had to endure.
No elixirs were shaken,
Not a bitter pill taken,
And the feelings of wellness were pure.
So he settled for writing refrains,
With a bit of sly humor ingrained.
If you don’t see the slyness--
Per Thomas Aquinas--
If you love it no need to explain!
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 9:16 AM UTC
the best of friends of two,
we always thought would remain,
smiles shared between us,
since day one when both were made,
mornings I could count on you,
for my mood afore the day,
cracking grins at passive slyness,
never afraid to laugh and play,
loved each other forever,
or we both once so thought,
alas sweet smiles soured,
and you saw my every fault,
how could you be so hateful,
so pensive now we're grey,
forgetting joy we'd shared,
promises so easily thrown away,
for a time I felt lost,
by pain you gleaned my eyes,
shaved away our pleasant past,
with the guise of your disguise,
until seeing you upon the ground,
our connection no longer mattered,
shards of your memory,
lying wasted, broken, shattered.
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC