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Picking At Scabs

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Written April 11, 2025, for Contest Sponsored by Edward Ibeh Quote: 1/ “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” ? Rumi 2/ "Many times we pick at the bitter, rusty scabs that form over a soul-wound, not allowing the heart to heal." By Poet ************************** In the tranquil twilight, what is on the mind drifts Whispering wretched words, nightly bedfellow Frozen by fright, feeble to bellow— Recurring reveries, tarnished land clamps, and shifts Awake amid an eerie embrace, dimly swirl in freight Cyclone of visions coiling closely, cloaking arms dejected— Sinking softly into a mattress where scarlet spots are detected Waning wits weighed down by trauma weight Smoky shrouds silently seep into sultry, scented air Metallic mood mingles in lonesome layers, lacing limbs tight Dwelling in dimness as kismet sinks into darkness light— Derailed freight train dashing rashly toward disaster's lair A steady pulse from weary bones warms the stern wall Paper-thin panes pulled by a wobble in the mad wind whip Hallucinogenic trinket and paranoia mix grip— Depression sees life after death as an illusion call Slyly lured to tear the scab, to rip and reveal flesh Revisit the wreckage, relive the ruins, and mess— Crimson cascades, casting a captivating curtain, no less A scar that seals in a supreme struggle mesh All alone, I gaze at my gaping wound Calling for cozy calm with a cry so loud— Disgustingly discerning disdain in a dense crowd Healing happens to be an unearthed gem to be found Pathetic desire to scratch and contemplate demise Forsake healing pride, stinging earful shared aloud— Banshee scream packs a wallop, uncomfortable and proud While tantamount picking exposes fresh wounds, wise Start wound healing, feel quite appealing Fiddling with knives stops digging holes deep inside Body protective stance is denied with each stride Clings like water slipping through hands, revealing The squish and smack of soggy peat— Through living, the root wakes in my mind But I do not incline to follow folks behind The squat pen lies between my fingers, complete Yeah, velvety evening, and bright delight Dark scabs from itching,  cutbacks won't close— Stratum corneum scabies yolks curl pigtails morose Only itching and scratching may indicate a mite Scab pinch slows heal; arm bleed, blow gash, scrub In a lush larkspur landscape, making a strange scab Two-legged corkscrew creatures grow ill, galettes— Thin fingers delicately crossed palates

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 4/20/2025 11:46:00 AM
Wow! Such a masterly poem. Such a diction, such, imagery, such alliterations. A poem pitched at such a height can only come from a refined masterly pen. Heartiest congratulations on your top win in this poetry contest. Wish you again a pleasant and auspicious Easter and a fulfilling coming week.
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Date: 4/20/2025 8:07:00 AM
This is a masterpiece, I especially like the third stanza, congratulations
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Date: 4/20/2025 6:27:00 AM
"Cyclone of visions coiling closely", "Fiddling with knives stops digging holes deep inside" - A very beautiful poem. Congratulations!
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Date: 4/20/2025 3:43:00 AM
Treasure it is. Congratulations on your win dear poet. Cheers!!!
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Date: 4/19/2025 10:44:00 AM
Lasaad, heartiest congratulations on your top win in my contest with this spectacular poem that has it all...great vocabulary, metaphors, alliteration, imagery, depth, intelligence. It's an immediate fave for me.
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Sotto Poet
Date: 4/19/2025 11:46:00 AM
Thanks, Edward. Poetry is simply a picture without words, yet using words allows me to express more openly my feelings and thoughts. Thanks for hosting just wonderful contests always. And thanks for the favor
Date: 4/19/2025 10:11:00 AM
- Emotional wounds from the past can heal, slowly... but will leave a scar... congratulations on your win, Las :) - An excellent poem :) - hugs
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Date: 4/12/2025 11:49:00 PM
Wow.... what an amazing poem! You are at your poetic best, many a time. I am so wonderstruck by your ability for alliteration and the choice of apt words and lofty diction. If we dwell on past hurts or wounds, we will never be able to stay happy. When we pinch on scabs, the wounds will be slow in healing. Let go off past grievances and focus on moving forward. "Start wound healing, feel quite appealing " Love this line. Amazing poem. I am sure Edward will like it a lot.
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