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Bare Bones Bob by johnson, robert

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The Best Bare Bones Poems

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

the skeleton tree

i am the skeleton tree
bare branches where leaves
are suppose to be
i am the skeleton tree
bare bones and no flesh
not another me
i am the skeleton tree
thousands of ancesters
but not one child for me
i am the skeleton tree
the end of my fathers name
and so called legacy

yet i sing a song
like there is nothing wrong
and being last doesn't matter
and yet i've writen a verse 
that many will rehurse
when one day my poetry matters
and when i die
who knows who will cry
i'll just be dead and gone
but the skeleton tree
that once was me
will live on in eternity
the skeleton tree
that one could read
and ponder possibilities
a skeleton tree
that one could recite
tell the difference between wrong and right
a skeleton tree
with branches and no leaves
yet and still the best of me
a skeleton tree
in this world i leave

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

In Response To My First Poem

 AT THE FINAL GOODBYE

The congregation
mingled within the silent
stone slabs of their
ancestors, a final goodbye
to yet another
destined to leave this place.
Yet to one, in this his
profound sorrow an
enchanting moment.
He craved!  With a soul
sensitive and true to
touch a living memory,
his lips again to caress
her symbolic smile.
His need to glance upon
her northern eyes of blue,
stroke her flowing
“Celtic Flame”
That, while strolling in lanes
of love rebelled against
the moorland breeze.
He desired to paint this
memory of that moment
the very first day they met,
bestow in this a silent tribute
to the emotions within
their secrets, those, no one
else could ever share!

first posted 2nd may 2010

IN RESPONSE TO MY FIRST POEM

Our secrets to keep forever
The two of us only will share,
This my darling is my promise
To you so far away down there.

Oh yes I can hear and see you
From this my place far up above,
I listen to your sweet whisper
See us in your portrait of our love.

Alas ‘tis only my bare bones
That lay idle beneath your feet,
Leaving everything about me
In your memory this my treat.

Our precious although short moments
Forever lives on in my soul,
Until one day yet far away
The final end your earthly role.

Then once again true love will meet
Your need to touch my Celtic Flame,
Mine to gaze upon eyes of green
Our lips passionate wild untame!

28th Sept 2015

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

I love a good plot

The skeletal remains are being chalked out,while mystery and intrigue are engraven, cryptic.Lying beneath, this freshly seeded idea;upon these grounds, the words are etched,what are you looking for and how will you get it,for these are but the bare bones of a story.The key alone is in your closet, slowly turning,as you opened the creaking rusted door.You slowly peep inside the mausoleum of your mind,where cobwebs hang on every angle.Suddenly, a cold swift draft blows across your spine,as if someone has just, walked on your grave. You look up to see, all the entrapping’s laidbut then again, you are still lying in a good plot.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

What I Was Too Afraid to Say Over Text Message

You were the first promise I was willing to keep,
my first hope that something could last forever.

You were the first time I opened up like a blooming flower
and gave you every piece of me,
every lie I’ve told,
every nightmare that kept me wide awake,
all of my hopes and dreams stored somewhere safe inside of you.

You taught me that there is no shame in unwinding myself 
into someone else’s arms,
that it’s time I exposed my gentleness that I’ve hidden beneath my thick skin,
for it hasn’t seen the sun in years. 

You were the first person I failed to find a poem in
because I loved you down to your bare bones and raw heart
and no metaphor could ever satisfy my admiration for every part of you.

You were the first time I wanted to belong to someone,
the first time I could read a thread of text messages like reading my favorite book,
my first kiss,
my first time getting butterflies after just hearing your name.

You were my favorite song,
my 11:11 wish;
a silly girl staring at a clock, waiting for the numbers to be perfectly inline 
so that she could wish to forever keep a love that already belonged to her.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

talk to the hand - for contest


y'all know me-     I'm in the poem biz     
and it is a no brainer     when I need a fix(I come to the main drag)of
       this poetry site

this my security blanket     my safe harbor    my home away from home
    it has taken me years to learn the
                 set up(its a long way to poet)gonna take a journey 

listen I don't consider my poems hot stuff 
nor do I have hang ups             but the bare bones is this    
    I go bananas for contests                I won't bamboozle you    
 I just wanna win (win and win)

but getting a poem selected    is an uncertain crapshoot      
     its a tricky business
            when the theme is announced    
                    I need to give it a good think (think)

and sometimes I write a lemon                (a real stinker)        
      oh when I lose(so blue)oh so near  when I win   bees knees happy

sometimes I put on my war paint       and make my way
    to the shooting gallery        (I mean the blogs)
        don't wanna open a can of worms    but
            a poet needs guts to make a comment there

oh yessiree    your words can be turned to smoke
sometimes its all snoggling       and sometimes its just aggro
      the blogger asks for an opinion      then the fun begins
get out the boom box     say what           talk to the hand

bring me the funny wagon     gotta get outa there
before I go nuts   gotta chill out         take my peepers to a poem                  
            like it when its mellow yellow in blog world

y'all know me-     I'm in the poem biz
and it is a no brainer       when I need a fix(I come to the main drag)of
         this poetry site

_____________________________________
July 1, 2015


Free Verse

For the contest, Colloquialisms, sponsor, Laura Leiser

Fourth Place

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

When Eagles Clash

Two eagles hover over the bare bones of a poem
leaving choice morsels for the appetite of the other.
And with poetic hunger they devour each other’s words
occasionally choking upon the other’s genius. 

With wings spread wide they ride a poetic thermal of prose
eagerly dipping into the ink of the other’s thoughts.
For when eagles combine talents to create poetry
oh, what wonders are conceived amidst such sheer majesty! 

They peruse through ideas like a garden of delights
collaborating on verses fueled by fragile dreams.
And collectively nurture fledgling thoughts, giving them wings
as they scratch enigmatic lines, using their claws and beaks. 

Searching for perfection two egos soar beyond belief
seamlessly approaching the heights of creativity.
For when eagles clash they release raw unbridled feelings
that converge, crafting clever prose that are worthy of note.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

sunset



Sunset

last rays share the sea
with bare bones of pirate ship
beautiful in death

~


Contest: sunset haiku
sponsor: P. D.
Written : 8th November 2011

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Silent Fights

When we fight in silence, like titans abound by egos
An eager poet overcome by words.
A beautiful model delicate as raindrops
When the silence in the room is as thick as our nostalgia
Wanting to hold each other but held back by thick egos
Ripe with the wretch of imminent paradoxes
Contemplating charades of choices of parallel provisions
As if we can afford life without one another


 When we fight in silence and the room gets microscopic
Her presence bold. she drifts like a thunderbolt across an African sky
Similar spaces, sharing oxygen and the ammonia in our hearts
our breathing aligned by the poisons of our fear
We have sacrificed in miles to allow centimeter consequences
Our story ripples gentle beneath her feet
A story that eclipses at the axis of our ex's
Subtle and calm in the stanzas on our palms
our skin cells still thick under their fingernails



 When we fight in silence and cant even look each other in the eye
The war between our minds that our tongues abstain from
Cold war of silent minds in love like a godless church
When the earth sprints beneath us,
bare bones and shuckles in our silenced fight
I don't know if its a curse that we both cant quarrel
Like feral lambs with a deep predilection for another
Infatuation so simple like the cartography of her skin
Her hair superior, laden ith disposable paradises
Simple chemistries of lovers who 've been through some shit


When we fight in silence. Hearts smooth as skipping stones
Hungry enough to believe the silence tastes better
But time... Time is a cold mason between us
Like a perverse heartbeat, the worst kind of treason
I have lived bittersweet moments that slow down the clock
I have seen pendulums and hourglasses turn lovers to strangers
I have heard how we change the world & the world changes us
I have learnt that the world is always ending and love prevails
Like neglected flowers in thick mahagony vases
Infested with greedy butterflies free from their leashes
The agony of traded dreams and faded hopes


Words are despots I would rather be silent than say something I will regret.
She is my armor. No sword in my castle, verbal nor metal
My fists only fold when I pray to God for her existence
Four eyes, one vision, one blindness
Heroes are for children and those who cant save themselves
After the silence the dialogue writes itself in a calligraphy of apologies
In our new-found understanding of the tapestry that is you & me
Minds re-aligned like telephatical alphas Completing each other's sentences
Simple enough this is our redundant arithmetic
Learning integrals of loving her beyond her crutches through infinity
Thats the mathematics of my existence. When we fight in silence

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

meat robot

somewhere down deep, everyone has some kind of love of life.  Down deep to the 
bare bones of instinct, the mother of all reasons, survival spends it's sway.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Bare Bones Bob

Pretending he has all he needs.
On two wheels of ILLUSION, he rides his steed.   
EVENTUALLY the ride is over.
To find him lying in a bed of clover.

Reminicing is his favorite game.
You'd never know he feels any shame.
Partytime comes and he fades away.
Attentive INFUSION leaves him in dismay.

Longing for a comfortable corner.
Always seems the INEVITABLE mourner.
Concience sighs with casual levity.
Evoking riches of unusual CREATIVITY.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Winter

Winter rises  and snowflakes fall 
laying out a stark elegance 
of pure white untainted beauty
Winter reduces everything to the basics,
to the bare bones of life
only the underlying structure is left behind
with time, we too are reduced 
to our bare essentials, the bare bones
as our frailty comes to light 
our bid for eternity slows down
and  the winter of our lives
draws to a close, but life goes on, as
winter gives way to spring and
new life begins again, as winter ends.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

I Have Long Departed Life


you cannot crucify me now
or scourge my body red
for I have long departed life
to live among the dead

there is no gravestone marker laid
no earth disturbed above
I live within and in-between
the hatred and the love

I walk the dusty ditches of
New Mexico alone
a thousand shades of red I see
that bleed from ancient stone

she walked me west of Eden where
the buses run on time
she says the bus is never late
if you provide the dime

I gaze back at the garden gate
the gate and garden - gone!
I turn to her with hope she might
tell me what has gone wrong,

her thread-bare bones stand silent white
then vanish in the sand
and mixed among the mica grains
gold rings from her left hand

the west wind blows with rage so wild
it cuts and strips my skin
I sit down under cactus shade 
to contemplate my sin

as turbid air disturbs my fate
the desert disappears
I rise into the morning sky
my face now flushed with tears

but fear is dissipated soon
it drowns along with dread
for I have long departed life
to live among the dead

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Her smile

me sit here drinking on me pint
i see the lovely face across from me
oh how i love her lovely smile
but now she has withered away
nothing but her bare bones exposed
but i love seeing her smile at me
he hair is long with out colour
barley staying on her head
the dress i bought for me bride
she still wears today
it may be old and full of holes
but she smiles at me today
our love will never wither
like she had done 
her eyes are on longer blue
just two empty holes in her head
her lips i can no longer kiss
but she still smiles at me
gaping hole in her chest
but she smiles at me
so i drink me pint to me love
that sits across from me
to the day me die 
i will be with her
as she smiles at me

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

RETOLD JOURNEY

Insane
I turn around
an amputee

to live, for not living
fighting the inner war
speared,
lacerated,
like neanderthal in cave

my weapon
the serrated moon
cried in fluted dark

a glimpse of bare bones
the ash of a bleeding dawn
my shuttered courage
in urn
there was only one evening



SATISH VERMA

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Arizona

Lay!
Bare bones,
stew'd in smoke of eye--
sun man,
send no buzzards unto me;
the canyon is my home
red rock walls
coyote calls
all in all,
the A-Zone is the place to be.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

We Held The Fire And Ate The Blaze

We Held The Fire And Ate The Blaze

We held the fire and ate the blaze,
And love sang in its fantastic musical tones,
Such was deep pleasure we sought to  raise,
Living on our love and meager bare bones.

You cried when I begged for your sweet hand,
Swearing our love would forever last,
I was so worried making such a bold stand,
Praying you would not remember my bad past.

Exultation came when you cried out- right now,
I truly knew your heart had embraced mine,
And had accepted my risky pledge and vow,
Giving me all of you, my darling so very fine!

Life gives and blesses as it tumbles onward.
With eyes wide open we must look forward!

Robert J. Lindley
MAY 9TH, 1976

Note- Almost 40 years ago. I was once that hopeful and thought that love 
could be an unbreakable bond.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Make no bones about it

Bony bona fide bones bare bones                                                                                 
Skeleton key turning a bone of contention                                                                     
Sticks and stones break bones words do hurt close to the bone                                          
Not so funny hitting funny bone hard words break no bones                                            
Depends who is speaking old school don’t be an idle bonehead                                          
Be like dog with a bone gnawing it till tomorrow                                                                
His word a fire in my bone true to the bone envy is rottenness                                           
To the bone a broken spirit driest the bone don’t be chilled to the bone                         
Pleasant words health to the bone so bones may rejoice                                            
Working fingers to the bone be not wise in thine                                                             
Own sight fear the Lord depart from evil a bone to pick                                                  
Dead man’s chest be not filled with dead men’s bones                                                 
Prophecy to bones dem dem bones come together again                                                  
Look to the cross not to skull and bones crossed bones                                                  
Playing bones Yo ho ho Rome’s smoked filled bottle                                                           
They grind bones to make their bread who Jesus has freed                                             
Don’t point that bonier finger but back in the closet                                                         
Not a bone was broken as he died for our sins                                                                 
Or you may be a bag of bones chilled to the bone                                                        
Being bone dry baring your own sin upon your bones                                                         
He is bone of my bone empty tomb make no bones about it

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

I'm Media

I'm Media
By Franklin Price
8/18/2016

I'm media,  must be on top
To tell whole truths would be a flop
If not exciting, ratings drop
And advertising bucks would stop

I use this sequence to begin
Find out the facts and put on spin
Your loyalty and faith to win
So ratings never drop again

To be on top and cash receive
Make small adjustments you'll believe
Takes little practice to deceive
The bare bones truth would make you grieve

What is it that you want to hear?
What kind of words to fall on ear?
Ones of comfort or of fear?
It's all for ratings, is that quite clear?

A lie discovered, I can retract
If written down, I can redact
A truth I say is only fact
If I did that how would you act?

Went to the Hill learned from the best
The home of spin its place to nest
To think of self before the rest
You find the truth, there'll be a test

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

The Talents of the Unwell

The politeness ate at itself until what was left; the bare bones of anger. 

This rage didn't find pleasure in the company of others.

It sat in a corner, conjuring up schemes that slowly collected dust.

There by his side, laid a mysterious book, when opened revealed nothing but vacant pages. 

In the dampness of the couch, he sat staring into it mumbling feverishly. 

What seemed to outdo eternity, suddenly a swift motion surprised his own senses.

His hand found the finely carved wrinkles around her neck, carefully tracing where it ended.

Like a complex map, her body reflected old age yet a strange sense of innocence.

He found mad pleasure in seeing such purity in her worn soul vehicle.

The ritual was about to take place, euphoria suddenly occupying his vision.

Winter of terror filled her whites while her weak arms tried to push him away.

Bloodshot and blue, her limbs merged with the furniture; cold and unconscious.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

I Have Long Departed

I Have Long Departed

you cannot crucify me now
or scourge my body red
for I have long departed life
to live among the dead

there is no gravestone marker laid
no earth disturbed above
I live within and in-between
the hatred and the love

I walk the dusty ditches of
New Mexico alone
a thousand shades of red I see
that bleed from ancient stone

she walked me west of Eden where
the buses run on time
she says the bus is never late
if you provide the dime

her thread-bare bones stand silent white
then vanish in the sand
and mixed among the mica grains
gold rings from her left hand

the west wind blows with rage so wild
it cuts and strips my skin
I sit down under cactus shade 
to contemplate my sin

as turbid air disturbs my fate
the desert disappears
I rise into the morning sky
my face now flushed with tears

but fear is dissipated soon
it drowns along with dread
for I have long departed life
to live among the dead

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

no regrets

Dappled shadows sway and dance upon her face; 
The fag ends of stars smoulder miles above, 
Casting a brittle radiance across her pallid skin...
She lies on her balcony, naked and chilled, 
Pondering the heavens and her own melancholy – 
Two oceans of darkness, one above, one buried deep inside...
Her sadness is fathomless as the sea, and as cold 
It fills her with hollow pain, with the stench of death
And there in the moonlight she mourns, 
A pearly white widow, clad in intangible robes of nostalgia
Oh god, how she misses, how she yearns...how she regrets
Inside the confines of her skull there lies a dismal graveyard 
It is filled with the skeletons of dead and rotting loves -
She has given her heart to many in her brief life, 
Given it as freely as spare change – 
And reaped the consequences in razor-scars, 
And floods of bitter tears, enough to drown a city 
Or at least all of the men who have betrayed her 
Now the bare bones of her decrepit longings jangle, 
Creating a zombie chorus in the depths of her ribs 
And the night wind howls their names and their treacheries 
Shrieking them down her aching ears...
But still she lies there, quiet and beautiful in despair, 
And still she loves, her battered heart refusing to cease its beats 
Because though love may have wounded her with mortal blows, 
And though men have crushed her faith to dust, 
Still a life without love is no life at all 
And, fallen angel that she is, her halo still gleams with a tarnished shine 
And her gentle soul prepares itself to - one day - love and lose again

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Villanelle: Do spun balls eddy in Black Hole corsets

Villanelle: Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets

Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets
   Or cosmic spins pierce through armoured shells
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

Make the side win hoards of precious nuggets
   Rousing Super Bowl far-flung galaxy yells
Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets

Elsewhere rugger lads break through pelting belts
   Asteroid storms of bare bones and muscles
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

Watch how rugby touch-downs pile-up sweats
   Barely kissing ground hugged balls crushed in smells
Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets

Rugbymen fall for foes during somersaults
   Some even take home loads of their scented cells
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

O! Lord of the Nations! Let fear nor threats
   Keep you from flexing wills with alien spells
Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

©  T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Woven By Sunsets

Woven  By  Sunsets.


Woven by sunsets
She sharpens her claws
To take revenge on victims
To prove her ability to storm.

Broken charade of her life
Concealed under glance of beauty
A beauty that soon be fading 
Turning skeletons of bare bones.

I wish she had fester feeling
To see high seas or starry nights
The lone pathways of her mind
Wish could whisper into her pains 
Sorrel advent of some new dawn.

Her claws are sharp
Her teeth are blood soaked
She would never command
Some chilling call for intimacy.

Only the empty ego 
Of her awakenings
Will rule over the stubbornness
And all her artless meanderings
May end in a wanton wilderness.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

WOVEN BY SUNSETS.

Woven by sunsets
She sharpens her claws
To take revenge on victims
To prove her ability to storm.

Broken charade of her life
Concealed under glance of beauty
A beauty that soon be fading 
Turning skeletons of bare bones.

I wish she had fester feeling
To see high seas or starry nights
The lone pathways of her mind
Wish could whisper into her pains 
Sorrel advent of some new dawn.

Her claws are sharp
Her teeth are blood soaked
She would never command
Some chilling call for intimacy.

Only the empty ego 
Of her awakenings
Will rule over the stubbornness
And all her artless meanderings
May end in a wanton wilderness.

Details | Bare Bones Poem |

Emerging Truth

Skeletons emerge from the cave of darkness 
appearing as gross distortions of once living beings.
And yet each is the pattern, the structure of every living form.

Does their appearance today mean I’ve stripped myself to the bare bones?
Is it time to see the truth of my patterns?

I am ready to carve away at the deepest layers;
to remove all that is extraneous,
all that no longer matters,
all that is dead and useless.

Truth demands the death of old patterns, old habits,
and deep-rooted, familiar ways of being.
Only in truth, can I awaken to Eternal Love;
Only in truth, can I become the fruit of understanding;
Only in truth, can I become the connection between death and birth.

I open myself today to the bare bones of my life
So that I may discover to what I am still desperately clinging.

I enter this dark cave willingly.
I walk right beside my fear, courageous and strong,
filled with the inner conviction that my own light will show me the way to truth,
to understanding, and to the ultimate connection between fear and love.
And I willingly slash away at the ties that bind.

Like the grim reaper wielding his scythe against the flesh,
I continually clear the cobwebs in the grotto of my heart and mind
so that my soul and spirit can negotiate the path 
through the gates of bondage,
and spread their wings with kindred spirits 
in true freedom and love right here on Earth.

7-3-09