Best Chafed Poems
I encountered her on a dark stormy night
Her huge trout like lips were a scary sight
Strands of white spittle formed on angry lips
huge folds of fat spilled over her wobbly hips
With scaly grey skin and blood red eyes
and legs so fat they chafed her thighs
Hair tangled and matted like limp seaweed
She reeked like a fish of an ancient breed
Reaching out for me with her claw like nails
Slime dripped from her hands like rancid snails
I tossed her a coin and hurried on my way
She’s not been seen since that stormy day
03-28~17
Categories:
chafed, beach, fantasy, humorous, woman,
Form:
Rhyme
Today’s wind shifts too fast like a tangle
of invisible lint…perhaps dust, quivering
unto fissure of grass where my heart scrapes,
as if the air denies unanswered questions
so blatantly howling about
a litany's crushed promise. Wired thoughts
rip my tulip bouquet now strewn
on the wayside of angst: how mute hymns
from an aborted vow silences a decorated aisle
on this day, this fateful day.
I turn celibate much like a virgin nun,
in front of an altar… half-empty now,
that my pain grates the most benevolent
of flowers, chafed by a drooping night
that has no syllable for me…for on this day,
a deserted betrothal leaves me
hanging , hanging on a church loft.
i’ll never know the why of an insidious choice;
except in his runaway scheme,my eyes
grow blank…tweezed iodized entombed.
Somehow, it is freezing now; a candle in prayer
burns an espousal gown;
i have never heard a more immense cold than this.
----------------
4/27/2016
Free Verse Contest for Charlotte Puddifoot
Categories:
chafed, betrayal, marriage,
Form:
Free verse
Heart's memory of sun grows fainter,
What now? Darkness?
Perhaps! This very night unfolds
the winter.
-- Anna Akhmatova
I remember the summer
of yesterdays, folded neatly
like little leaves just waking up to life.
Ours were colored, all the days
hanging together on one twig,
glistening amidst the morning dew
like love's own eyes waking
beneath the passion of dawn.
The redness, so we thought,
could never fade to colder days,
nor leave us chafed from winter's wind.
We were the only breath of air
shared within the expansion of dreams.
We never dreamt of sunset skies,
yet, we watch it now, fading slowly
across the horizon of night's rise,
questioning eye's own darkness,
wondering, what does the truth behold?
Categories:
chafed, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
Horrid, horrid thought;
Tiny Mother reaching forth,
Reaching always to enfold,
And in enfolding just to hold.
Crying from want…and need;
Crying from loss and deed.
What to do? What to do?
I am me, and I am you?
Looking for a glint of power.
Searching, searching, hour by hour;
Love…caring…heedless heart;
No Mother were you from the start.
Crying from want…and need;
Crying from loss and deed.
What to do? What to do?
I am me and I am you?
Broken waif, soul chafed;
Battered daughter, mother’s pride;
All that’s beautiful she must hide.
All that’s soft, all that’s warm, half formed.
Crying from want…and need;
Crying from loss and undone deed.
What can I do? What can YOU do?
I am me, and you are you?
Crushed like flower pedals in a fist,
Flung haphazardly in the mist.
Nasty, sour, bitter lost;
She was forced. We are forced.
Is all lost?
Date 10/12/2008
Categories:
chafed, confusionloss, loss, mother,
Form:
Rhyme
How chafed the foot bereft of sole,
when unshod thoughts meet splintered floor.
Known terra firma drifts from whole,
as reason loses sight of shore.
I’ll wander where the breeze seems kind;
sweet apple blossom fairies lure.
Away from those who cage the mind,
indulging revelations – pure.
I’ll play the bride in quaint repose,
replete in sagely fettered yearn.
A farm house dowry, heaven chose;
soon I will quell all mused concern.
Old voices join the pipers tune,
a melody once clear – opaque.
Reality lies roughly hewn,
upon this page; my soul awake.
**29 May 2017**
Categories:
chafed, mental illness,
Form:
Rhyme
The redwoods’ fairy ring, wall in a family secret
Only, not all roots dig as deep…
Parched, some shrivel, loosening the circlet
Shush….the tallest ones whisper steep
Elegance alas, the needy ones, have lost…
Chafed, bitter barks scatter cones they can’t keep
Raging fires sear heartwood of dearest cost
Enduring burns gape trunk-wide scars…
The remnant wall shrinks tauter, visible as vapored frost
(10/2/20: '87 Tiara 3600 Convertible; DMS)
Categories:
chafed, allusion,
Form:
Terza Rima
He despaired. He was despondent and desperate.
He was impelled to violent action but restrained from acting out.
He had finally given up. He had lost all hope.
Disheartened and dispirited his will had collapsed.
Lacking confidence or courage, depression defined him.
He languished in gloom and grieved in lament.
He succumbed to a wretched tribulation,
a miserable melancholy, so forlorn was his ordeal.
He anguished over his prospects, so painful was his worry.
Desperate and wholly dejected the criminal faced his judgment.
As justice was served he fretted, ruminated, chafed, sulked and moped.
Now he faced the torment and ridicule he so easily delivered.
Finally he too understood the meaning of despair.
Categories:
chafed, angst, depression, satire,
Form:
Narrative
Wind-gathered winter leaves hide the worn
Inscription; the birth, the death the epitaph
On show for all who take this path
To know Sir John is buried here
Beneath his coat of arms.
This baronet, the eigth in line,
Esteemed to serve his king or queen,
A gentleman of East India's refined
Who sojourned and often richly dined
At home in Berkley Square
Now companion to the chafer, the cadys,
And the countless creeping crawling things,
While passers by have come and gone
Without admiring glances
Since eighteen thirty one.
To line the row beside sir John
Writ great and good in Portland stone
The largest slabs bear names long gone:
A Thomas and a William, an Elizabeth
And a James.
The births, the deaths and all the
Dear belovedness, now mossed
And mildewed, chafed by morning frost,
And slimed by creeping slugs across
Each cold grave table top.
But there by winter's Flowering Cherry
Near Purple Hazel and Norway's Maple
Beside the yew with scarlet berry,
Stands a smaller upright stone,
Beloved daughter to John and Mary.
Eliza Rose, just fourteen years of age:
'Early bright and transient,
Chaste as morning dew, she sparkled,
Was exhal'd and went her way to heaven',
To the saviour that she knew.
Categories:
chafed, christian, death, heaven,
Form:
Rhyme
October has finally come,
Mr. sunshine wants me to have much fun;
“Oh, my darling can’t you see?
I’m so busy preparing for my birthday party.”
Why do you keep on wheedling me?
I don’t want go to the beach with my bikini;
Besides, I don’t want to get sunburn
My body will be chafed with prickly heat in return.
You’re so naughty like a spoiled brat,
But still, I love you with all my heart;
I’m now going to the beach at once
Wearing my jacket, hat and jogging pants.
He gives me then the biggest grin,
I didn’t know he has a scheme with the wind;
“Where is Mr. Wind?” I asked
Is he already at the beach to bask?
My Darling sunshine gives me his cutest wink,
Summer is not really that fun I still think;
I headed off to the beach with my desired attire
Protecting my skin from burn and making it dry.
At the beach, I see adults and kids,
Playing happily… sandcastles they build;
Not so far, I saw old friends of mine,
Beckoning me, so I change my mind.
Sept. 22, 2013 5.45 a.m.
Note:
I woke up earlier today, morning of Sunday here ;)))). I’m so inspired to write this poem. I am looking forward to one of the most important and significant months of the year for me. A poem especially dedicated to all my loving fellow Octoberians & Librans;))) Looking forward to bask along the beach with you;))
First Place
Contest: Poem in the Morning Due
Judged: 10/2/2013
Sponsor: Poet PD
Categories:
chafed, celebration, seasons, summer, ,
Form:
Rhyme
Fragile mirrors slice darkened cellars
bead by bead, she whispers a prayer;
thorns of farewell clasp her heart ,raking
as twilight closes fading lamps, bare.
Although a tight knot of vein weakens,
chafed hard... memoirs leave a tender spot
a warmer throb, a much closer touch ;
when cold love flown still matters a lot.
Now runes of time's destiny appeal
for one chance...his lies so wide and deep;
that mate's peach roses arrive, quite late,
as moon drones softly so eyes can sleep.
If ever, sleep will cave her trembles
allowing time to heal...in breath's delight
her new hours can greet scented flowers,
to sprout fresh blossoms, to wake a night.
Sheri F. Harper's Rock Me Around the Clock
or Rock Me to Sleep--Rhythm Poems
by nette onclaud...1/6/2015
Read more at: http://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry_contests/
Categories:
chafed, moving on, sleep,
Form:
Rhyme
Manu strolled to his stainless sink
To wash his hands and have a think.
He reached for soap, a bar was handy,
A square pink cake that looked like candy.
He ran the water, fresh and cool,
And in his hands, it formed a pool.
Then, out of the water, to his surprise,
a tiny fish with bulging eyes
Appeared to Manu and woefully cried--
“Please, kind sir, don’t wash me away!
I have important words to say.
If you will raise me, then one day,
I’ll save your life, please let me stay!”
Manu responded, “Little Fish,
How shall I raise you? Grant your wish?
Shall I place you in a dish?
Your little home in which to swish?”
Fish answered, “In a jar for sure.
Until I grow and well mature.
Then in a pond you shall put me
Until I’m ready for the sea.
To keep his fish friend safe, Manu
Installed an inground swimming pool.
His neighbors laughed and mocked and drooled,
Said, “Evil fish has found His fool!”
And Manu said, “Don’t laugh, but pray!
A Flood is coming, Fish does say,
And Humanity will be swept away!
This fish will save my life one day!”
In time, when Fish was fully grown,
The largest fish mankind had known,
Manu and Fish to seashore went.
Humanity’s time was almost spent.
Now build a ship, Fish told his friend,
And it will save you in the End.
Then tie the ship to me, and I
Will take you to a mountain high.
And when the rainclouds did unleash,
That massive flood killed man and beast.
But Manu and The Fish survived.
And on the mountain top arrived.
And just as Fish had always said,
Humanity was now quite dead.
Overcome by the raging flood,
The world was cleansed of all bad blood.
But Manu on the mount was safe,
Against Fish’s wishes he never chafed.
And as the waters did recede,
The Fish told Manu he must leave.
His job was done, Manu was spared
Because for Fish’s life he cared.
And then Manu, now all alone,
Began descent to his new home.
Categories:
chafed, animal, fish, friendship, hindi,
Form:
Rhyme
With love banter she did persist
But my riposte barbs did resist
Few frothy gestures; emotions to grist
But my playful hands pounded with fist
On a lite, free-flowing parley did insist;
For my crude vocabulary did not desist
Added some colloquial idioms for zest,
But my trite sayings quickly put to rest
Fearing that I did with hollow words jest;
Solemnly cupped hands on tenured breast
Uttered romantic soliloquy my desire to test,
Then rolled her eyes as my prone quill did crest
A few lines from tender ballad did invest,
But my swaggering tune could not digest
A couple of amorous riddles pressed,
But chafed at each, laborious guess
Categories:
chafed, love
Form:
Couplet
I am a Savonarola chair
carved from discarded
remnants of cedar and birch that
littered our backyard -
waiting to be burned
or broken by a trespasser’s hands,
or tended to by the warm touch
of a gardener’s natural instinct;
an individual
who values growth
and prosperity.
I am an object
forged from splinters and sweat.
My four legs become six when your
spoiled bones and blackened hearts
grow weary.
Stilted fractures wax like leprosy
within your fumbled thoughts -
seeking respite as you recount
negligent actions upon broken fingers.
Father was a saw
and cut out his tongue.
Mother was an awl
boring through his visibility.
Ignorance sanded his face.
Blind eyes rendered him mute and
useless, like a comb without teeth
or a song-less linnet bird.
I am a piece of furniture.
A curio cabinet
curiously displaying your mistrust.
An end table advertising no family portraits.
An ottoman whose cushions knead
the detestation clinging like muck upon
the backsides of chafed ankles.
I am:
Father's severed chainsaw.
Mother's twisted liquor cap.
Sister's crumpled gum wrapper.
Brother's fleshtone punching bag.
I am a chair.
I serve a purpose - but not for you.
A chair can be slip-covered, polished,
straddled and veneered.
A child cannot.
I am most content when six legs
morph back into four.
Exuberant,
I then know my
private existence can breathe -
and the hardened antecedents
who took advantage
of my open arms and inviting lap
have grievingly walked away.
Categories:
chafed, angst, on writing and
Form:
Free verse
In the vortex of a maelstrom, I was rudely thrown
drowning in turbulent waters for an error I bemoan,
a blunder of loving someone who chose to whittle
away at my heart until it became fragile and brittle
Bereft beyond the point of caring if I lived or died
My eyes were scarlet, burning from tears I'd cried
But they became transfixed, immutable on a fire stoked
for my normally tenuous demeanor had been provoked
I was a genteel lady, who demurely acquiesed to love
but it was time for me to throw down the gauntlet glove
I was chafed by what had been just an interlude for him,
an escapade, a mere dalliance, a rascally romantic whim
I drew a rough sketch; in likeness of my vagabond swain
an abstract portrait, in Picasso's style, the face of my bane
Black eyes were hollow, blind orbs that would never see
that his triflling peccadillo tryst was a brutal betrayal to me
The painting was delivered as twelve bells pealed midnight
I watched as he unfolded it, but carefully kept out of sight
A formidable opponent I had become to his knavish ways
By moonlight I saw his face turn pale; his eyes were glazed
* November 3, 2017*
Eight Word Challenge-5
Hosted by John Hamilton
8 Words required were: Brittle Immutable Formidable
Tenuous Interlude Sketch Bereft Demurely
Categories:
chafed, betrayal,
Form:
Rhyme
You talk about a woman great, I talk a legend
A man carry in his heart from childhood to years
Not come as yet. Our culture by captivity rend
Without liberty, and unpreserved in scars of tears
We gathered apart from village smoke and dust
To mend and make in new language that healed
Us to laugh again. The nights had God to trust
Alone, and the radio around which we squealed
Our belief in what she taught us. For I find there
That I can love this self after holocaust and whip,
Use the new tongue to balm me where I am bare,
While she doctored us with potions of vision. Rip
Not the past yet, it was tool stitching us together.
And all our present we can use like she shew us
A rich heritage of materials from us drawn together
To hear it, again Liza singing the people's chorus
Making Boysie run from flatboard liberating joy
As the colonial idiom doomed, chafed in the alloy
Of memory. We blend to make Africa, and preserve
Miss Lou's legacy from which self to us was served.
Categories:
chafed, tribute, self, self,
Form:
Verse