Best Chafing Poems
He stood on the street corner
Having a much needed smoke
Somehow we got chatting
And he told me a joke
And i started laughing
The way that you do
He looked at me smiling
And started laughing too
And his dog laughed too.
It became a habit
Ever after that
Every morning I’d stop
For a little chat
And listen to any joke
That he would tell
His supply seemed endless
And he told them so well
And his dog laughed too.
One day I saw the dog
Out with another guy
So I said hello to him
And I asked him why.
He said he was standing in
His dad had had a stroke
So I sent my best wishes
And I really missed his joke
And his dog just looked sad.
I asked about him every day
Was told he was improving
Was chafing at the bit to
Get his recovery moving.
I was so pleased to hear
Of progress like that
For I really missed
His joke and our chat
And his dog looked optimistic.
Then one day I saw him back
Standing there having a smoke
I bid him a good to see you
I’ve missed your daily joke.
We both laughed uproariously
As he told me his latest one
And the dog wagged his tail
All signs of sadness gone
And his dog laughed too.
Categories:
chafing, dog, friendship, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
It is in the grey of icy evenings
When those dimly-lit wishes seem to fade,
A bitter nip, a woe this season brings
The chafing of hope's ardor, delayed.
Even though I grieve during the passage
Of summer’s festive and vigorous trails
How could I not ponder on this new stage;
As the quiet of misty Fall unveils
Reflective pauses where breaths gently ease
The dark and long wait of unanswered squall;
Endowing thoughts with a hymnal reprise
And, guiding stillness with poise that enthrals.
It must be the cold flakes in dusk-like stent
That restores hope with godly contentment.
Sara Kendrick’s A Penny For Your Thoughts Contest
“Hope is faith holding out its hand
in the dark.” ~George Iles
-----------
by nette onclaud
3/20/2015
Categories:
chafing, deep, hope,
Form:
Sonnet
I held the stumbling humanoid,
Standing on two feet, scared as an alien
I am his cradle and his playground
Even before he was named *****Sapien.
Watched him crawl on hands and feet,
Watched him grow, move and trail
His mind having lost all its restraint
Unknown quest beckoned his first sail
Wandering unhinged in the oceans midst
Lost his color, lost his curl
Breathing the air on land unknown
Came back white as a polished pearl
Placed himself on a glittering throne
Uttered words, harsh and foreign
Ruling all with his reeking greed
Brandishing his spear, sword and the gun
Started digging my gut for diamond,
Chafing oil off of my skin
Pulling out my heart of gold
Making mules of his kith and kin
Chained his brothers, labeled for sale,
Subjected them to conditions sinister
Bent and flogged all their lives
Sisters raped at will of their master
I silently watched the macabre play,
Where no one but he smiles
My eyes oozing out warm tears
To fill at least a dozen Niles
Ate my arms and thighs for dinner,
Bathed me with blood each night
As he danced in a trance unashamed
But I Africa —I refused to die
Written :04/25/2017
Categories:
chafing, africa,
Form:
Quatrain
*Note: This is a tale of honor in which the protagonist refused to tell his lady a truth which would have broken her heart, so instead he allows her to believe a lie, although it cost him her love.
Your tears stream salt into my open wounds
Equitable punishment for a scathing tongue
When deceptive words spilled from its fork,
my palate tasted morsels of amarum gall
Mea culpa Mea culpa
What penance do you deem to be delivered
for chafing injury upon your virtuous heart?
I have perjured myself with loathsome deceit
Condemned a liar, in weeping from your eyes
Deprive me of your kiss, as rain denies a flower
and I will crave death in a cold grave of darkness
Parce mihi, amica mea ~ forgive me, my love
The moment of reckoning weighs upon my brow
Mea culpa Mea culpa
To defend your innocence, I have readily sinned
For if truth I had told, it would've been a sword
and my hand, the one thrusting it into your heart
My life was loyally given; well worth one dulcis lie
Latin translations:
amarum ~ bitter dulcis ~ sweet
Categories:
chafing, grief,
Form:
Epitaph
I sat,
Silently watching a spider crawl up the pristine white wall,
Wondering where it had come from,
Wondering where it was going.
The straps from the straight jacket were chafing my neck;
My hands were not free to relieve the discomfort.
Where, exactly, was the light source in this room coming from?
And, why did I not cast any shadow?
Where was that spider going?
The annoying humming of some unseen electrical device was driving me mad.
I smiled at the irony in that thought.
The unseen electrical device was probably the hidden camera by which those who already thought me mad were watching me;
Watching me watching the spider with nowhere to go.
The madness was not in the acts I took to end his life;
The madness was in enduring the pain he inflicted for so long before doing so.
Now,
In a padded cell,
Forced to hug myself by a tightly strapped straight jacket,
Unable to move,
Unable to relieve the discomfort against my neck,
Unable to smash that damn spider,
I am free.
Free of everything, it seems, but irony.
Go ahead little spider and crawl up that wall,
There are no cracks from which to escape,
There are no flies to be caught,
And there are no monsters to force you to do unmentionable things.
We are safe in their prison, free of his.
I am not sure when I realized that I was actually the source of that annoying humming;
Perhaps it was when the cell door flung open and smashed the spider against the wall.
Categories:
chafing, life, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
I held the stumbling humanoid,
learning to stand on two feet- scared as an alien.
I was his cradle and his playground—
even before he was called *****Sapien.
Watched him crawl on hands and feet,
watched him grow, move and trail
His hungry mind lost all its restraint.
Unknown quest beckoned his first sail.
Wandering unhinged in the oceans midst,
lost his color, lost his curl.
carrying in his lungs, an air unknown,
came back white as a polished pearl
Uttering venom, harsh and foreign,
guarded by spear, sword and the gun—
crushing all with his reeking greed
placed himself on a glittering throne
Digging my gut for diamond,
chafing oil off of my skin,
pulling out my heart of gold,,
making mules of his kith and kin
Chained his brothers, labeled them for sale,
subjected them to conditions sinister
Bent and flogged all their lives,
sisters raped at will of their master
I silently watched the macabre play,
where no one but he smiles.
My eyes oozing out warm tears,
to fill at least a dozen Niles.
Devoured my arms and thighs for dinner,
bathed me with blood each night
as he danced in a trance unashamed.
But I Africa did not die,not quite.
Written 04/29/2016
Categories:
chafing, racism, slavery,
Form:
Ballad
Dawn awakens, lets yawn red searing sigh,
summer steams sweltering sweating sunlight.
Street's hot bed of coals smolders in July,
temperatures torch with tropical smite.
Haze humid stir-frying Bronx crispy craze,
housing is tinder, youth straggle sapped streets.
Rainstorm naught, nothing to break basting braise,
community chafing white wicked heat.
Day, baked yellow clay, dust dry makes you swoon...
pool of cool baptizing childrens’ new truth;
Mercy! Water main break floods ‘fore high noon,
thirst quenched, street's fluid, flows fountain of youth!
Liquid color splashes in rainbow spray,
heads happily anointed with prism pour.
Black-white exist - gray day grit washed away,
hearts watercolored in need of restore.
Revelry riots in verdant voices,
sprightliness sings in city oasis!
Eyes excite, smiles shine, refresh rejoices,
joie de vivre, full of life faces!
People all ages on sidewalk's sideline,
wish to beat heat but sadly no swim clothes.
‘Boxing ring’ pool, he imagines round nine,
celebrant boy smiles, strikes Jack Dempsey pose!
Susan Ashley
August 25, 2017
Categories:
chafing, children, city, summer, water,
Form:
Rhyme
You wear no capes, no fancy bracelets
No super powers to be your shield.
And yet you are, by far, the bravest
Of souls I’ve seen amongst the fields.
Your tiny frame belies the strength you hide.
Some think you timid, some think you weak.
They don't know the chafing of your chide
Or with what wisdom that you speak.
You have a way in which you deal
With the turmoil of this world.
You speak your mind of what is real
Through your breath, the Truth is hurled.
With your sparkling eyes and heart so pure
You command respect, yet are humble still.
No one’s deceitful ways can endure,
Your steadfast gaze and reverent will.
TLH © 06-04-2012
Hero/Heroine Contest
Categories:
chafing, mother,
Form:
Rhyme
Querulous Shoe
I'm all worn
out. Would you
look at my heel?
She leaves pieces
of me all over this
campus. Whoever
bricked the walkway
did not consider the
stiletto's plight. And my
chafing toe cap, awful.
Given what she paid for
me you'd think she'd take
me to a cobbler once in a while?
Give me a makeover! Show me some
love -- instead the girl walks all over and within me,
by me. Her need breaks my sole. She just cannot
go a single step without my most supportive arch.
Categories:
chafing, funnyme, me,
Form:
Concrete
I don’t know how I should speak of you.
Love of my life, my soul’s companion soul,
A breath and heartbeat indispensable as mine,
Yin to my yang and, too, contrariwise,
Keystone to my arch, and cornerstone--
Because I cannot look into your eyes,
Love, you cannot see me keen, and pine,
And ache deep down, sheer to the bone.
(Such is the chronic, chafing toll
Your absence wreaks in me.) I’d screw
Me up to chide you, but that would not avail;
I’d rail against my lot and pound my breast
If that would bring you here to me at last,
Or seek you like some almost-holy grail.
But since I cannot feel you next to me,
Or softly sense your soul through clasping hands,
How can I frame in words the buried deeps
You plumb? My very quarks crave yours, so strong
And fundamental my desire’s become.
And so no matter what or how I say
I love you, all inadequate and tongue-
Tied, the words are merely stereotypes
As timeworn as the Sphinx in shifting sands,
And just as cryptic. Oh, come home;
For then my eyes will redirect my voice,
Inspiring by your nearness all those words
Eluding me till now. Let loose the cords
That keep you from me, and confer your grace.
Categories:
chafing, absence, desire, devotion, feelings,
Form:
Lyric
chatter
continuous
banter which numbs the brain
chafing background noise that belies
patience and composure squandered away
meaningless, dreary remarks told
about nothing central
drifting weary
chatter
Tanya Harrington © 05-30-2012
Sound Of Emotion Contest
Categories:
chafing, angst,
Form:
Rictameter
regrets rise and fall
chafing at the frayed nerve endings of a finite life,
unfolding like origami cranes around the neck of kamikaze pilots
chewing at the bones of our discontent,
leaving holes in the fabric being.
regrets, like and of, unborn children
never growing to fruition, never falling
bud to blossom they decay, never reaching the Guf
pointless misconceptions of a wary heart
first born in joy left to rot in sorrow.
regrets rise and fall
yet we chose to retain them in the after-image
of retinal flares, ocular migraines inwardly staring
toward Gabriel’s outstretched palm
embryos unblessed.
never regret
ever regret
never
Categories:
chafing, caregiving, child, dream, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Eyes,
tainted
by snow flakes
of damp memoirs;
spiky frostbites chafing her irises.
Drained lids quiver on a funeral trail
lacing sharp ache;
iced droplets
pierced like
flakes.
Andrea Dietrich's Contest
LEAF, FEATHER, SHELL or FLAKE
8/4/2014: Form: Tetractys
Theme: Flakes
Categories:
chafing, snow, sorrow,
Form:
Tetractys
Your uniform is like unto a sonnet
And you, a poem dressed in vest and skirt.
How peaceful are the eyes that rest upon it
Creative spirit framed in pressed white shirt.
As birds that soar the heights on freedom's wing
Require sturdy skeletons for strength,
The poet, though confined, writes words that sing,
Conformed to proper meter, rhyme, and length.
What landscapes and still lifes the poet paints
Rich words that cause her readers to rejoice,
And all within the sonnet's strict constraints -
She reaches deep within and finds her voice.
Small freedoms may be sacrificed by you,
But still your creativity shines through.
Author's Note - written for my daughter on her first day of high school where school uniforms were mandatory, causing no small amount of chafing in her creative spirit!
Categories:
chafing, 11th grade, daughter, poetess,
Form:
Sonnet
It's all smoke and mirrors,
Cocooned in magenta mascara and lavender lace,
The ever-elusive ivory stag now backed into a corner,
Delighting in an artificial solitude's icy embrace,
Brandishing a jaw of pearls to sheathe the dagger up her sleeve,
A being without mortal anchors but free as the cosmos,
An orphaned star adopted by the destitute and bereaved,
Bound to the earth by a single poisonous dose,
Of a senseless rebellion rooted in a confrontational domestic convenience,
Concocted from the distorted allure of abandonment and the lust of love,
Ravenously craving the ecstasy of disobedience,
All to avoid her association with the palm branch toting dove,
Ordained by the heavens as a herald of peace,
Galvanized by the wind carrying her carelessly adrift as innocent as can be,
Yet somewhere along the way she lost her head in the clouds,
A life of complacency chafing away at her growing curiosity to the beings scuttling on the ground,
Gazing longingly at these minuscule being's feeble feet,
Apendages reluctantly dragging their comatose bodies through daily rituals too tedious to consciously repeat,
Why oh why young angel do you let your wings wilt with envy,
Why do your eyes brim with tears over remorse rather than from a strong gale's sting,
Remember your home atop cumulus hills and streets of cirrus,
Rise from your oaken bed not with medicated anguish,
But with the fire in your eyes coupled with a confident strut,
That made me fall in love with you,
My shrinking violet.
Categories:
chafing, love hurts, romance,
Form:
Rhyme