Best Amputated Poems
Hall of Silent Women
in valhala
in a far corner
of this martial paradise
is one small unobtrusive hall
above the heavy iron door
these words are faintly inscribed
“ the war department
regrets to inform you
that your son……
has been killed
in action, in defence of……”
women
silent
row upon row
straight backed, tight lipped, blank eyed
their amputated anger melting hearts
while words swift shot pierces soul
women
from life first stirrings
through vaulted cave to clapboard ranch
crouched sweating over birthing pit
to numbed white linen labour
in their pain and joy shudders steel shod feet
march through the womb.
women
ancient cauldrons
endless source of armoury
kept tongueless
then given tongue to teach
man made words
toy soldiers bleed rust.
in valhala
indeed in every martial paradise
there is one small unobtrusive hall
above the heavy door
words are faintly inscribed…
Categories:
amputated, bereavement,
Form:
Free verse
In this psychological warfare,
where the fate of Romeo and Juliet
has not discouraged lovers
I was warned,
"tread carefully, only move forward if you are prepared
to battle against satanic adversaries not seen before."
But I'm a veteran with an amputated heart,
as my lion nature roars at 'tug-of-war' conflicts
and she keeps pulling at my heart strings.
Welcome to the circus of darkness,
where spirits rest in a silent surrender.
In my phantom kingdom
the queen of hearts is an outcast
upon an isolated island of misery.
Her life is a concoction of paparazzi and propaganda,
where serpents manipulate her innocent dreams.
In the illusion of separation,
an internal choir sings a siren's symphony of sorrow,
echoing through oceans and mountains between us.
In this haze of hopelessness I hope to be found,
but we are cursed with different shades of love,
where tears are melodramatic melancholy,
bleeding in black rivers of perpetual pain -
but her savage beauty is my favourite kind of madness.
In the unfairness of circumstance's wicked ways,
the Grim Reaper has auctioned my soul for sale.
I search for anonymous angels among us,
but in the graveyard of blasphemous bliss,
tattoo tears create crimson cracks on broken statues.
My immortal emotions drift like butterfly breaths,
imitating a bare brokenness of rags buried in paper coffins.
Before the euthanasia of time will you return that stolen kiss?
Gift me a kinder reflection from self entitled mirrored salutes?
It all started with a poem rebuilding a sanctuary.
in my poetic secret garden of confessions.
When my metaphors stole the moon for you,
fate had my heart held hostage to your infatuation.
Not everyone can see with open eyes,
but in the empathy of distant entanglement,
love untangled the tips of your tangled heartstrings,
then burnt them in ashes of enkindled embers.
Now that I've overcome your obscured boundaries of sanity,
placing lanterns upon midnight trails you follow,
I've defeated every malignant spirit.
Before words become tired and meaningless,
will you comprehend the innocence of my insanity -
forever love me where it hurts?
Categories:
amputated, angst, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
It's like getting your leg amputated
For a while the phantom limb throbs and aches
Until you recognize and accept the fact
That it's just a ghost playing evil pranks
A phenomenon occurs in the morning
That will forever remain a mystery
Those few seconds between waking and sleeping
When you don't yet realize who or where you are
You get a short reprieve until
"Oh yeah, I don't have a leg anymore"
For HGarvey Daniel Esquire's contest
Categories:
amputated, death, son,
Form:
Verse
He waltzed into the barroom
Announcing his name was Jack
He had a peg-leg, three fingers gone
And on his left eye wore a patch
His teeth that weren’t missing
Shined of glimmering gold
He ordered a bottle of whiskey
And then this story he told
He talked with an accent
That sounded really strange
Seems he mined for diamonds
In a South African mountain range
For months he lived alone there
Just him and his two mules
Digging day and night
Looking for them jewels
Says that he hurt his leg
And gangrene did set in
A village doctor amputated
Anesthesia was a case of gin
Thieves cut his fingers off
Stealing his diamond rings
But where the other rocks were hid
They could not make him sing
Now he is a rich man
Living the life of luxury
He bought drinks for everyone
Saying, “The next round is on me”
Then that grizzly old rich man
Waltzed back out the door
And the one-eyed Jack of Diamonds
Was seen never more
For Paula Swanson's, "Pick A Card" contest
Categories:
amputated, adventure
Form:
Rhyme
Islands
Islands are – it seems – so many of us.
Worlds apart – alone – in the seas of life.
Joined at the hip – by an adversarial universe.
Amputated from a living solar system
by the master surgeons – insecurity, self doubt,
criticism, negativity, skewed points of view.
Tear tempests rage from within us.
Tsunamis, tearing up any traces of,
the mighty oaks we may have been.
Islands - are we ?, many lost in the sea of,
humanity all around, if, but we could see.
Drifting on crests of gigantic waves.
Cradled within the troughs of ocean’s anger,
being tossed towards the brink of humanity,
on a journey that is carrying us through eternity.
Deserted islands we have become – by choice ?
Ships that pass throughout our nights,
disembarking bodies – life boats to the shore,
these islands, secluded, to explore,
so many constipations lay within,
islands in the seas of humanity.
Islands of lost, empty souls,
islands floating – Sargasso Sea,
islands adrift – apart.
Brilliant, stands that joyous orb,
screaming down upon us all – happiness –
on beams of dancing – feet,
gliding, rhythmically, across us desolate islands,
trying to part lightness into our days,
some days ?, many ?,
it can not dissipate the haunting shadows,
shadows that shroud, darken our life’s experiences.
Good days – some – eclipsed by essence of our realities.
B. J. “A” 2
February 22nd 2008
Categories:
amputated, introspection, universe,
Form:
Free verse
#The_girl_I_love_is_gone
she took her whole along, all sense and familiarity that gave clarity to my whole, this absence so devastating, my existence inbalanced, crums of her atmosphere painted my peace and happiness with colourless marks, a traumatic reminder of broken shells which once served as pillar that kept th sane in me
tormenting when now my eyes are only thing that connects our memories, for both hands and abstract link of heart and soul frequencies, she has amputated in me, wishes and hopes my mind murded for they ceased value with her departure
feeling which just had to switch lanes and learn to ride solo, that her directioned-creative-smile, which only her activated, watchd tossed aside by permanent frown and now my soul walks in the far distances and wildest reach just by its self, though it hurts, her part in my tale was meant to last until there,so as her presence and familiarity
#Poetic_Ink
Categories:
amputated, break up, cry, fate,
Form:
Free verse
How do I begin
to imagine my life
without you
when you’ve been part
of my every moment
every breath
an extension
of my heart
my very body
How do I begin
to imagine my life
with half of me gone
amputated
wandering
aimlessly
without a compass
nowhere to go
lost in a world
without you
How do I begin
to imagine my life
when the sun
refuses to rise
and the moon
hides behind clouds
rain falling nonstop
day and night
How do I begin
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Posted on August 24, 2020
Categories:
amputated, change, death, grief, solitude,
Form:
Free verse
Thou
great
son
of
the
land!
Salute!
Salute!!
We
Salute
thee!!!
An
unwavering
patriot,
undaunted
mountain.
British
admiral
and
nava
hero.
Toulon
submitted
to
thy
naval
prowess.
At
Calvi,thy
right
eye
was
obliterated,thou
was
not
shaken.
Thy
prominient
role
led
to
victories
off
Cape
Saint
Vincent,the
nile
battle;
great
conqueror,Napoleon
Advanced
not
cos
of
thy
heroic
strikes.
With
amputated
left
hand,thou
took
on
with
the
battle-
cry
for
thy
fatherland.
Created
Duke,a
vice-
admiral,more
services
thou
accepted:
in
battle
of
Copenhagen,thy
rare
abilities
manifested-
in
gratitude,a
Viscount
thou
became.
Battle
of
Trafalgar
1805
French
and
Spanish
fleets
were
crushed.
Thy
personal
charge
in
thy
flagship"victory"
defeated
the
invasion
of
Napoleon.
Oh!
How
hath
the
mighty
fallen,forfeiture
of
thy
life,
a
paid
price
for
victory.
Rest
great
son
of
Britain,
for
in
hearts
of
all,thou
breatheth!
Categories:
amputated, tribute
Form:
Elegy
I am a dreamer
A dreamer to own a bicycle but never got one
I am still a dreamer
I am a dreamer
A dreamer who wanted to play a set of small pieces of plastic toy-soldier
But I can’t afford to buy one
But I got the hand-amputated one
I picked it up in a canal of mud
I am still a dreamer
I am a dreamer who loves to play “sigung”
Because this is the only piece to play
And a toy that is easy for me to avail
I am still a dreamer
I am still a dreamer
I am a dreamer who wanted to have a car
But I got tank in my ancestor’s homeland
I am still a dreamer
I am a dreamer to finish a degree
This is which everyone wanted to get a job
But I need to go abroad to be professional slave
I am still a dreamer
I am dreamer to own a shop for a bicycle
For me to give gift to the one needs it
But cannot afford like to buy like me before
I am still a dreamer even without owning a bicycle before
Until today I am still a dreamer
I only owned myself who was created by the mercy of God
That until today I am still a dreamer
I am a dreamer, and still a dreamer until today
I am still a dreamer, Tausug dreamer
That one day, as a dreamer my dream would become true!
Bow…!
Categories:
amputated, adventure, age, beautiful, best
Form:
Bio
If you could've been saved, I would've been over the moon.
But you died and you were taken far too soon.
You had to have a hysterectomy and your left leg amputated.
You were in so much pain, it was something that I truly hated.
My brother and I had to end your pain by taking you off the respirator.
If I would've had a choice, I would've rather wrestled with an alligator.
When you died, I came home and licked my wounds.
If you could've been saved, I would've been over the moon.
[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013.]
Categories:
amputated, death, dedication, grief, missing
Form:
Rhyme
I am Africa
I.
Distant
And lonely
I am
The barren land
Of untoward change,
The empty womb,
The amputated hands,
I am
The Maker of new worlds
I am
Africa.
I am
The broken voice
Of the tall woman who undid
The family knot
Set my caged birds free
And set traps to owls and falcons
I am
The step to freedom
I am Africa.
I am
Gorée
Dahomey
Porto-Novo
Bimbia
And the boat
That sailed to the New Land.
I am
The aftermath of revolutions,
Theories and tempests.
I am
The dark forest no longer at ease
The things fall apart
Hopes and impediments
Leurres et lueurs.
I am not
The other world of the Heart
Of darkness nor the wrath in
Return to my native land
I am
Neither Aids nor Ebola.
What then am I?
Or what else am I?
Douala, January 1st, 2014
Categories:
amputated, africa, joy,
Form:
Free verse
I like the word "beastie," it sounds cute, it sounds Scottish. I'm thinking like 'Scotty' on 'Star Trek' would say, the immortal James Doohan, who I would have figured for a Scotsman, but a Canadian was he, and a good life lived.
On at least one episode of Star Trek he evinced a liking for 'Saurian brandy,' and 'tis certain sure that a stout beverage it would be. While back in the real world, ol' Jimmy boy stormed Juno Beach, Normandy, on D-day, then that very following night a scared Canadian machine-gunner let loose as our intrepid James made his rounds, hitting him six times with "friendly fire" (now how tough would that have been, to swallow as a metaphor at the time?). Improbable after that that life remained, middle finger, right hand, later had to be amputated, plus four shots to a leg, well now that would be thought to be well-nigh fatal, but no, and one in the chest besides, where a silver cigarette case preserved our man's life.
Categories:
amputated, drink, humor, life, miracle,
Form:
Prose
Stef, born in New Zealand’s fine country,
Moved to Canada aged 4 with her parents,
Where she had a boating accident aged 9,
Which amputated her right foot for her life.
She’s married to fellow Paralympian fast,
Canadian wheelchair racer Brent Lakatos,
And they both train at Loughborough Uni,
Where there’s a plethora of sports facilities.
Stef graduated from good Queens University,
In Biochemistry with honours and at times,
Is a professional speaker, a fashion model,
And lay preacher of the gospel and the way.
Before the accident Stephanie played rugby,
But afterwards she could not do this because,
Her prosthetic was at risk of detaching itself,
Mid-game and injuring near placed players.
So she went into track and field athletics,
Practised until she became sick and tired,
Which saw her make the 2008 Paralympics,
In Beijing when she won gold for the sprint.
She graced the podium often at small meets,
In Manchester and in London. Christchurch
Saw her flourish when she won two bronzes:
One for the long jump and one for the 200m.
In Swansea at the European games in 2014,
Stef took home for the T44 long jump a gold,
And in the London Paras which introduced,
So many to disability sport, she won a silver.
In Rio she won another silver, on the mark
For TeamGB. She hasn’t always represented,
Britain because when she was much younger,
She competed for Canada’s rocky territory.
Categories:
amputated, sports, strength,
Form:
Blank verse
The Sand Man comes
in dead of night.
He borrows my soul
and we take flight.
Twinkle of stars,
hanging high,
Made by us,
as we float by.
Cosmic theatrics
commencing soon.
Our host tonight;
The Man In The Moon.
The Virgin pours
into silver cups,
sweetest necter,
as act I erupts.
Another notch
On Orion's belt;
out wrestling Leo,
surrender felt.
Scorpio's tail
stings Cancer's back.
Then amputated;
crab's fierce attack.
A true aimed arrow
from Archer's quill.
The charging Ram
now lies still.
All fall silent
As the Twins take stage;
as one, their dance
Of an ancient age.
They give a bow;
the show now over.
He wisks me home,
slips me neath the cover.
I miss him already
as I awake.
My date with The Sand Man;
a real dream date.
Categories:
amputated, dream,
Form:
Rhyme
Hey everyone it’s me again
thanks for having me present
I’ll do my best not to offend
as I share and truthfully admit
I get dumb when I don't attend
can’t get past simple words like….
“happy” and “sad” “now” and “then”
Just the other day I went mainstream
and for an hour of my precious time
got stuck on an amputated cat meme
slowly my brain cells diminished
but my mind, I continued to blaspheme
I got sucked in the whirling vortex….
and it erased my poetic theme
It will take me some time to rebuild
the wit and the strength and flow
like an Olympians dream unfulfilled
A tireless poet will be apropos
lucky for me exists a poet’s guild
where gatherings delight and wander….
through places that haven’t been tilled
It’s good to be back here with you
I thought I could handle the ride
but trivial stupidity is not taboo
outside of this mind of mine
So I research a transcendent haiku
that you obviously wrote for me….
and remember every awesome breakthrough!!
THANKS GUYS!!!
--4/12/2017--
Categories:
amputated, appreciation, fun, humor, recovery
Form:
Rhyme