Best Awkwardly Poems
A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue,
Momentarily ignited by stray
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly
Spills
Into the trickling replenishments
Of many gushing and silvery little
Rills.
Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find,
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its
Back on the social conflicts
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome
Strife!
And still stood,
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost
Unawares,
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing,
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which,
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate
finality,
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold
Reveals.
Categories:
awkwardly, life,
Form:
Rhyme
awkwardly I dance
because I have two left feet
hard to find partner
I watch you dancing
it seems you have two right feet
let us share some shoes
will you follow me
for if we move together
dance will have purpose
you move fluidly
my feet provide the structure
made for each other
no limitations
with artistry and purpose
we dance with the stars
life is not boring
we live within the rhythm
music from heaven
God is our maestro
leading us to forever
in death we won't part
Categories:
awkwardly, beauty, dance, happiness, love,
Form:
Senryu
On the shadowed banks of river they sat together
Adulating setting sun quivering in rippling currents
Where golden filaments shimmered on blue water
Forming and breaking ephemeral circular motions
Undulating amber rays on eve’s buoyant emotions.
Her dimples smiled upon her visage of royal poise
Enticing him to probe her cheerful, enamored eyes
Mesmerizing as yet un-blossomed amatory dreams
As they raved of college, friends, late nights carefree
Exploring coyly maiden impulses of mature themes
Inflaming seductively, untrodden clues of fantasies.
Alas! those memories now~ dulcet still, but empty.
Never he saw her again on her side of the prairies
Strolling nonchalantly, engrossed in birds chirping,
No one standing there now to steal his glances slyly
Hiding behind notions of secrecy, at first meekly,
Though later, quite daringly, wantonly, frequently;
Elevating him unlike anyone else, before, or since.
Her last letter to him was cryptic, yet informative:
A rustic farm house, cow moos amid clucking sounds,
Boy and a girl, flower beds, and a dog named Duffy~
A simple life on landscapes lauding ancestral heritage.
He remembers well~ saying it, genuinely meaning it,
As movingly she indulged in life that could have been,
Awkwardly dropping hints, soon she’ll be married.
Yet, here she is now intimating, she too so loved him~
Validating his belief—though offering a mere fig leaf--
A vain gesture to convince him she honored his dream
Memorializing secret pact, living life in his blueprint:
Boy and a girl, rustic farm house, a dog named Duffy.
April 12, 2022
Poem of the day on April 14, 2022
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 11 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Fig Leaf
Categories:
awkwardly, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
Ellie was just three months old,
When she was brought to our sanctuary,
A safe haven was our fold.
She was an orphan, her mother,
Her sister, her aunt, her brother,
All chased and shot, and left to die,
From our sad experience we knew,
That probably a foul mouthed,
Red faced, sun frazzled man
Whose muscled legs would look
Disgusting,
And who with red eyes bulging
Would say,
What a booty,
We have in the truck today.
He would generate an excitement,
Of the atrocity they had
Committed, saying they would
Receive a bonus this month
Added to their pay.
And what was their booty,
A truck full of tusks
Elephants killed when it
Was still light,
Until dusk
Too dangerous at night.
A war between poachers
And rangers
How could rangers,
Gentle souls, who loved animals,
Equal the poachers trained brutality,
Who had not a trace
Of humanity.
Baby Ellie
Was found,
Starving, scared and cold,
Somewhere in the African bush
Almost dead,
But she survived a shot to the head.
We had other young orphans,
They all would play
As baby elephants do,
And slowly Ellie became stronger.
Her mummy who faced
Horrific slaughter,
Would have been so proud of
Her daughter.
Rehabilitation was done,
It was both work and fun.
Eight months later we all
Thought that it was time,
For Ellie to be with her own kind,
And knew she would find
In the African bush, a new
Family who would care
And love her.
Clumsily she got into the truck,
Perhaps it was fear that
Brought the smell of death near,
Awkwardly.
And hesitantly she walked
Down the ramp,
A mama elephant spied her first,
And with their recognizable gait,
And heavy weight,
Walked to one another,
Swinging their trunks,
And so, they met,
And side by side they walked
To the nearby water pan,
Our hearts sang,
As Ellie turned and let out
A loud,
But proud,
Thunderous trumpet,
Thank you she meant,
I love you too.
Ellie had finally
Come home,
To her own.
Categories:
awkwardly, death,
Form:
Free verse
The function of a human hand?
Writing a message, making a bed,
Opening a jar, dialing a phone,
Putting on pantyhose,
Touching the face of a child,
Or a lover.
And in its absence?
Yawning space and phantom pain,
And an oddly-shaped bandage
At the end of Angie’s arm.
PFC Hernandez, home in El Paso,
Watches her family watching her,
Writing awkwardly with her left hand,
Brushing her black wavy hair,
Watching Dr. Phil
Wearing an old gray-green T-shirt
Bearing the faded words
“Proud to be a Marine.”
Gasping and choking,
She wakes from thick, dusty dreams
Of shimmering, endless sand,
Unfamiliar words
Echoing hollow with hatred,
And the feared but half expected
Roar of fiery amber heat,
Breaking the angry stillness,
Searing through the night
And Angela’s right hand.
Categories:
awkwardly, faith, health, loss, peace,
Form:
Elegy
By different lovers I’ve been kept,
some skillful and a few inept.
I always respond, unafraid.
I rather enjoy being played.
A Spaniard picked me up one time.
His classic strumming was sublime.
Notes poured from me like a cascade.
I rather enjoy being played.
That man released me, and soon I
was picked up by a strange punk guy
who stroked me roughly. Though betrayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
My strings broke often from his touch,
yet thrilled was I by his thrum. Such
unique new tunes from me were made.
I rather enjoy being played.
His sister held me awkwardly,
but then she sang so beautifully
it mattered not my sound would fade. . .
I rather enjoy being played.
She and her brother gave me to
some plucking fools without a clue
till an artiste came to my aid.
I rather enjoy being played.
He pressed my frets, this handsome boy.
My stings were vibrating with joy.
I climaxed with his smooth glissade.
I rather enjoy being played.
With him I hope to have remained
in years to come. His love’s unfeigned.
Although I know at times he’s strayed,
I rather enjoy being played.
Categories:
awkwardly, me, music, passion,
Form:
Personification
I have no pearls of wisdom for you,
you wouldn’t listen in any event,
I’ll give you no advice,
no beatings will be any good either,
it’s not the gift that you need.
You were there for the casting of the die
but you somehow think you’ll survive.
I won’t tell you how to snatch up
the light bright lies that you’ve missed,
and the countless truths to follow,
the realities that so awkwardly escaped us
are a gift that you won’t accept.
I’ve seen the witless blundering
and transgression to shame us both.
I have no sage words for you,
but I have a single round in the chamber,
so I’ll take you out behind the shed
and in the daylight that summoned me
I’ll gift us a gift far greater.
14th December 2018
Categories:
awkwardly, introspection, metaphor, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘’’’’’’
Angular hips now more round than grapes
grieving a little for new voice whispered,
swells of flesh curved in plumper shapes
while the flow of monthly arrival lingered
Almond eyes grew sultry deepening hue
baby powder blending into lavender spray
this crossover of rebellion I harshly knew,
awkwardly choosing between truth or dare-play.
Then, nights gazed at sandals of childhood seas
toes raking, confused about dissent down path;
a ruffled star finding myself sliced by cold trees
as Mom screeched at moody blues ready to hatch
My mind felt strange; Dad became a fading hero
questioning him with glares longer than steam,
rude awakenings cracked fears, tears stuck at zero
with ripening bosoms; this turning point at thirteen
Struggling for identity bloomed in freshman year
when tresses climbed on stairs of clumsy romance
beguiled by some hunger in my bones, a blushed cheer;
exalting the senses, a lady-in-waiting for her first dance.
©
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’
For Frank Herrera: Coming of Age
By nette onclaud
Categories:
awkwardly, introspection, teen,
Form:
Rhyme
A period am I; you do not see
me all that much in poems any more.
At times I’m placed by poets awkwardly
before a line is finished! I implore
you, don’t disgrace me. Surely you can use
me easily. I’m just a little dot!
I end each sentence. How can you abuse
me? Try to think of what your teachers taught!
Each sentence has a subject and a verb,
but sometimes phrases enter in the flow
to lengthen sentences, and they might curb
you if my friend, the comma, is your foe!
Review things! I am not my comma friend.
Please put me where each sentence has its end!
For the Punctuation Personified Contest of Debbie Guzzi
* by the way, seems we can put the period anywhere except in the Soup title heading after abbreviations like Ms.
Categories:
awkwardly, writing,
Form:
Sonnet
Downward marriage falls seeking some relief
Children follow awkwardly, senses moan
Husband and wife acting out of belief
Three children entering chambers unknown
Locked in battle, the wife reaches for sword
Under advice, she unleashes all hells
Falsely accusing the husband deplored
Of abuse, harm, and hate to citadels
With one stroke of the pen, I was condemned
Guilty 'til proven otherwise I was
Cast out, no home, no gold, no kids, clemmed.
Without, alone, despaired, scorned, for no cause
Time to think, time to ponder, time to pray
My children became my crusade, that day
09/21/17
'Taking a disappointment in your life turning it into something positive'
Form: Sonnet
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri
Categories:
awkwardly, children, divorce, hurt, husband,
Form:
Sonnet
As Miss Luby watches from her window
a moving van backs up
the driveway across the street
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
its warning cry has a beacon-like effect
on the neighborhood
arousing interest from all corners
everything suddenly shaken awake
Even the squirrels stop, stock-still
save an occasional flick of the tail
Miss Luby's cat, also
watching from the window
pauses momentarily, paw suspended
before continuing to clean herself
And one by one, the other inhabitants
invent clever ways to investigate
without seeming obviously interested
Miss Luby's next-door neighbor, Fred
flits outside to water the plants
in his front flowerbeds, distractedly
soaking the sidewalk instead
While dotty old Mrs. Pappadopoulos
puffs along, pulling her little Pomeranian
up the street for a “walk”
slyly turning her head, rather owlishly
as she passes by
Silvia, Miss Luby's other next-door neighbor
is still in her housedress and can't go out
so she sends her three beastly little boys out
to play, knowing they will get the inside scoop
and sure enough, within forty-five seconds
they have accidentally-on-purpose
sent a toy airplane across the street
and spend the next half hour retrieving it
following the new neighbors
in and out like so many
playful puppies
Not to be left out
of the hullabaloo, the hoity-toity
housewife from two doors down
high-steps out to size up the new arrivals
over-casually strolling with
her beautifully bundled babies in tow
putting on quite a show
suddenly disappointed
realizing they're just common-folk
not the kind she wanted to know
All the while, the new neighbors
exhausted, amble in and out
of their new home
staggering
under stacks of small pieces
lumbering along
awkwardly lugging larger ones
A teenage boy
silently glides past on a skateboard
giving side-eye to the boring, middle-aged
couple- as he is nearly hit by a car passing by
driver distracted by the moving van
Categories:
awkwardly, community, humanity, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
Heavily laden boats, rectangular sails billowing
Under seas of low cloud, braving the fierce Yangtze;
Held between snowcapped mountains, earth and sky
Indistinguishable from steaming mist and rolling fog;
A long drawn straggle of Grey Geese plummeting down
From breathless, rarefied air to stumble awkwardly onto
Plum coloured mudbanks; an unrestrained, excitable
Cacophony of frenzied honking! Then wild monkeys
Provoked into howling each side of the river.
There, at the juncture with Longjin Brook, stilted homes,
Half-hidden by bamboo groves, crouch at the waters
Edge; maidens will come to wash clothes
Whirling wooden batons, twittering like golden swallows;
Fragrant wildflowers enhance their sweetness.
At drab, pale, first-morning light, fishermen cast
Nets over the cooling, placid blue waters;
The fish that swim here are said to be the finest
In the province.
We will exchange Black Carp and Blunt-Snout Bream,
Wrapped in moist bamboo leaf, for glutinous rice
With the clans that tend the terraces inside the fertile
River valley...
Does not the Emperor insist upon good commerce?
If you are dissatisfied as a peasant
You can take the ancient "old tea horse road"
And burden your back with heavy bales stacked high
On a rail;
The road will take you all the way from Zigui
To Tibet...or even further perhaps,
And sombre ravens will soar overhead and taunt your
Every footstep.
But I will remain where I am, in the
Village On The Water
Nestled deep within the Three Gorges;
My life, the endless horizon stretched beyond,
Held in balance as if it were Shaseng
The Shadow Play Stone;
And each new morning awakening to slow,
Chiming bells.
Categories:
awkwardly, appreciation, environment, winter,
Form:
Free verse
As summer has briskly bowed and left,
The air has become crisp and moist.
Sky is clear, the wispy clouds straggling here and there!
The evening’s weak rays cut through trees, half bare
And a chilly wind playfully wings
Shaking the remaining autumn leaves
To fall awkwardly one by one with a soft hum,
Making a mosaic design on the ground
Under the trees, lies a massive pile,
Of cast off leaves the wind had felled.
Though laborious, it is fun raking them
Then jump over and toss them to the wind
See them fly about like embers from fire
How delightful watching them settle
Once more to the ground and listen
To the rustle of dead leaves under the feet
My heart beats to its joyful rhythm
And I long to float like them, weightless
Across the patch of empty ground,
Long shadows draw a series of grotesque graffiti
A lone bird atop a gnarled branch
Screeches its dismay over the change of the season
But my heart dances as I watch the leafless trees
Stretch their bare arms to the sky
And the chill of autumn sprinkles goose bumps all over
Sept. 2022
~Placed FIRST~
Fall Flavors Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Regina McIntosh
Subject Chosen- Raking Leaves
Categories:
awkwardly, autumn, fun, october,
Form:
Free verse
Harrowing shifts placating Palestinian patients
Awkwardly healing bones, injuries war caused
Comfort we gave seemed severely insufficient
Soul mates meeting among pain, implausible
Crutch hobbling boy with copious haphazard grin
Caught both our hearts, we smuggled him chocolate
You took every free chance to sit and joke with him
Your easy demeanor is medicine, patients responded
Images of rubble sifting shadow-faced citizens
Inescapable magnitude replayed, dream tethered
Impact we made upon fractured limbs and spirits
Told us each smile gained was worthy endeavour
I've speculated our distance pronounced our parallels
A far, foreign land artificially grew our new love found
Strongest logic shows me your benevolence plentiful
Desire stunned us, despite draped shapeless gowns
A year improvising in Gaza's limping hospice system
Threatened to take my buoyancy amongst its tragedy
Compassion you dealt exposed a myriad of wisdom
Guardians of burden bandaged turmoil's inched recovery
Excitement of moving in together, calm logic forgotten
Several short weeks after Gaza, shared goals discussed
A jubilant wedding, white gown without tie backed cotton
Box pile totems, future unpacked together, a time for us
17th August 2020
JCB Burl, Sponsor
Contest, 'A Time For Us'
Categories:
awkwardly, best friend, boyfriend, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
Beer Head
Can't drive my brain into gear
my thinking right now is not truly clear,
a headache may come is what I do fear
I should not of drank all that beer.
My body and eyes all a blear
to many I drank to toast a cheer,
clinking my booze to whoever was near
to each and everyone - an equal peer.
Dance moves controlled by my beer puppeteer,
my feet stomps the floor like a ready charged deer,
shout singing the songs - not a cool look they sneer,
wrong words song sung sang, heard in the jeer.
My voice is hoarse an a ringing left ear
only to realise in my right I cannot hear,
panic sets in falling awkwardly on my rear
only to flatten my new expensive headgear.
Broken remains took me to save for a year,
self-pity pours in - I even shed a tear,
sober I stay and will do adhere
if not, beer just may ruin my career.
31.08.20
Categories:
awkwardly, celebration, drink,
Form:
Monorhyme