Best Chapped Poems
In Ordinary Cups
The blades of winter grind into the ice
like blood on a bitten lip
two lovers spin and twirl
The days pass from teacup to teacup
in the peaceful silence of a solitary nest.
From gentle easy sunrise through sheer white
to the subtle fall of accordion night.
The echoes of childish laughter tremble
across the cracked surface of plaster walls.
Random squeaks in oaken floors return
the footfall of father, coming and going.
Long lost cat's paw prints impress carpet
dragons from Shanghai with ghostly ease,
and every loved and loving one returns
in peace, to rest beneath the tapping fingertips
upon a porcelain cup of tea from China.
11/9/10
Re-formed for Roy the Verse BELOW
The Teetotaler
The blades of winter grind into the ice, flirting
with the rosy cheek of puppy love, snow-crusted mittens
cling, like chapped skin on bitten lips; scarfs twirl; they spin.
As steam rises from the cup, reminisce, the first kiss,
across swamp-grass hummocks, rotten ice, lace tripping
with the rosy cheek of puppy love; snow crusted mittens
cling. Black hair, fair skin, Irish-eyed, he cajoles a grin.
In the steam, not the leaves, she remembers him
across swamp-grass hummocks, rotten ice, lace tripping;
they spin. Assam seeps in porcelain, another cup
she pours. In an empty nest the cup clinks saucer,
in the steam, not the leaves, she remembers him.
From sunrise through fall of white, she sees the mist
falling accordion-like into chinks of memory.
She pours. In an empty nest, the cup clinks saucer.
The recollections of youthful laughter cut, tremble,
across the cracked surfaces of her mind's walls
falling accordion-like into chinks of memory.
Random squeaks in the oaken floors recall returns,
these images mist swirl from the tea-of family,
across the cracked surfaces of her mind's walls.
A long lost cat walks shrouded through silent the scene
in peace, they rest beneath her tapping fingertips
these images mist-swirl from the tea-of family,
Every loved and loving one returns mist-born
within a porcelain cup of tea from China;
in peace, they rest beneath her tapping fingertips.
3/21/15
Categories:
chapped, memory,
Form:
Terzanelle
Oh how I do love November,
that magic month that outshines September,
where I look upon the face,
of the Twinkle Fairy in all her grace,
as she blesses the leaves
falling from shivering trees
to dance in air and come to rest,
upon Gaia’s soon to be, blanketed breast.
She dances in her wispy blue coat,
and sends the crispy leaves to high afloat
upon the autumn breezes that roam
throughout the countryside by my home;
oh how I can hardly wait to espy,
Zerelda as she comes, twinkling by.
I saw her once, patch a deer’s nose,
it was chapped and swollen so,
her fairy dust on it, she sprayed,
it glistened in the sunlit rays,
like glitter sprinkled on the floor,
smoothing out the skin and pores.
My cat, Eleazer,
he will chase her
and as usual, there’s no doubt,
he won’t catch her but he’ll pout.
She’ll reward him for his game,
his frustrated feelings, she will tame;
Upon his upset brow she’ll thrust,
a wand-wave full of fairy dust.
Then she’ll turn to me and say,
I know you’ve watched me on this day;
but you are kind to fairies like me,
so here’s something for you, free.
With another wave she’ll gift;
a fairy song, she’ll set adrift.
11-13-19
November Twinkle Fairy Poetry Contest
Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
chapped, autumn, fairy, nature, november,
Form:
Rhyme
Daylight fades, a city pulsates, and traffic is reflected in store windows.
Hurrying headlights come out of the darkness.
They crisscross like dueling knights. People in the crosswalk scamper
as if squirrels and streetlights leer gleaming yellow eyes, like watchful hawks.
The shrill trumpets of the charging gale force winds, rattle an awning,
and newly planted maple saplings bend and sway
in random pairs. Set in concrete planters, they hang on by tender rooted toes.
Pages of a discarded newspaper are hurled into the air,
buoyed on the steely breath of a frigid winter evening.
Several leaflets scatter into the street and down the sidewalk,
into the path of one lone pedestrian.
He slaps away the sports page, that flies into his chapped, red face.
Without hesitation, this castaway vagrant, down and out
by the rape of hard times, will accept an offered dime,
from a passing man in a Red Sox ball cap.
Head bent low, face hidden, a worn and dirty pea coat
pulled tightly around his thin frame, he carries all his meager belongings
in a large paper grocery bag, wrinkled and beginning to tear.
Serving as his satchel, the brown bag, damp and worn,
still displays big bold red and black letters
advertising "Smart and Final Grocery"--"Located in Three Convenient Locations".
A city bus roars by, splashing through three days of rain,
and a siren and a blaring horn is heard from the next block.
The dark silhouetted outcast, stops for a moment,
peers into a sidewalk trash receptacle, then continues slowly down the sidewalk.
A taxi pulls up along the curb behind him, and the attractive couple,
dressed in evening wear, emerge, pay for their taxi, and arm in arm,
enter Mario's Italian Restaurant, the brick bistro
that sits on the corner of Broadway and 1st.
It begins to rain again, and across the street people open umbrellas
and like the afore mentioned squirrels, they scurry home to supper.
The lone man walks in the rain, his pace doesn't quicken, his voice never spoken,
a spirit broken, ............ his sack held together by circumstance.
A passerby takes a brief glance...just a quick, chanced moment,
to take notice of "Smart and Final's" last stance.
Categories:
chapped, peoplepeople, red, city, people,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The nurse ordered her to push, push, push
in her best proper voice
and linen balled in red fists knotted
and sweat falls from red face knotted
while Billy, head first, tugged and yanked by nurse's proper hands,
emerges, gently laid upon the blood soaked sand
motionless in the sulfur haze, almost well-behaved
amongst the rifle clatter and bewildered screams -
get down! get down! get down!
while Billy breathes slowly, undisturbed,
his eyes closed with new mom
gently caressing matted, cark curls,
her fingers, no longer knotted, extended,
Billy's tiny hands and infant fingers
grip the plastic ribbing
around the rifle barrel smeared in stickiness that flows out
from below Billy and onto sand, puddling, his lips chapped and parted,
suckling as new mom exhausted weeps
in relief of two arms and two legs and everything okay
as she holds him, hurting for him,
everything that might happen,
everything that will happen,
and she drifts off to slumber,
mother and child peacefully spent
in soft pretty colors
and the soft murmur of the television as the sedan
with government plates at the curb
and a Marine in dress blues (Oh, God) stands plastic in the doorway
and uses his best proper voice (Oh God, not Billy, Oh God)
to regretfully tell her,
and uses surprised hands to catch her when her legs
regretfully cannot hold her
and she sobs on the floor like a mother who outlived her son,
exhausted as the day Billy was born.
Screw this war.
Categories:
chapped, angst, death, life, loss,
Form:
under crimson glow
frost blankets a hidden glen
chapped lips are licked
Categories:
chapped, romance,
Form:
Haiku
The moon casts a surreal light
Upon looking out of the window
The night is my mistress
Solitude my blanket
Then I think of you:
The daffodils dancing as they glisten
Your almond eyes,
Serene lips always rest unscathed -
Right every after kiss,
Your silly ponytail.
They speak to me in rhythms
They hush me in rhymes
As I haunt an honest silence
To save the calmness half death
My body aches to breathe your breath -
Your tequila breath.
I smile outstretched from ear to ear
For it brings the contemplative
mood of my soul
Your flavored lip gloss lingers on me now
Bewitched on how it bathes
As it rinses my lips - my chapped lips.
Like an ocean hugging its shore:
Sweet,
Toothsome,
Relishing -
It tastes like Paris.
Tonight I lie in bed,
A nest which doesn't offer
A place of comfort no more
Tossing and turning
Swaying restlessly
All because you stop singing my lullaby
It's our pillow upon my head
Reaching against my wet cheeks:
Dull,
Lifeless,
Colder than death -
Too later - Too soon
It would then be
Drowned by cobwebs
Soaked in tears.
Authors Note:
The Love Me or Love Me Not - Free Verse Poetry Contest
4th Place(Honorable Mention)
January 28, 2008
Sponsor: Mark Cotterman
Categories:
chapped, devotion, loss, love, me,
Form:
Free verse
I am losing you again
White, oh your skin, whiter than pearls…
I sit here, trying not to stare,
Serene you are, as you lie in your bed,
How awful could agony become?
I am losing you again
Chapped and faded your divinely drawn lips…
Opaque, the spark in your eyes, it no longer exists,
Uttering out the words, "you had my heart from the start,"
Lament, your words are, as your lips part,
Does God really need another angel by His side?
Exasperating, your paralysis, suffocates me…
Abashed I awake, from a nightmare,
Throbbing, I almost submerged your sheets with gasoline,
Yelping,
Oh poor baby, you are so soggy from the chemo,
Undying, everlasting we are, hang on my love,
Rusting your skin, your sickness is so ruthless, to kill you,
Could I really break the wall my pride has built?
Angst haunted me as I listened to the mournful,
Notes of the saddest symphony existing…
Could I please place a red rose on your mahogany sepulcher?
Endless our love is, as a paroxysm of pain,
Rushed through my blood,
Amid the purple phlox, and the emerald elms,
Waves of distress, overwhelm,
As I realise how your anguish was so true,
Yesterday, I wished I had died instead of you…
Categories:
chapped, angst, death, loss,
Form:
Free verse
Could beliefs be wrong
I've survived for too long
in a world full of conflicts,
wilting nascent innocence--
with venomous fearful experiences..
Broken dreams crawl to breathe
inflicted with harsh realities
unaware of masked conspiracies
in fiery oceans of betrayal,
now pound against my sanity
floating to silver stars--
they shiver to exist in probabilities..
Diminishing hopes entangled
in twisted vague ropes
digging deeper in graves
of deceased memories with pain,
now wander on ghostly roads
to bury my doubts in deserts--
they struggle to break free from paranoia..
Banished desires shriveled
in cobwebs of perturbed fate
drowning me in labyrinths
of mourning wails of apathy,
now stand valiantly in pain
to discard thorns of memories--
they peep to bloom on a sparkling dawn..
Dreams, desires, hopes
now faded pages in my book
rest in secret dreams
when my old soul knocks
on doors of crimson agony,
raging embers of morose scars
fester my wounds in tyranny,
blood red scuffles of anguish
drench my chapped lips to revive--
buried spears hurled at me..
I've walked an unrelenting journey
obliviating desolate scars
melting stormy whiplash
with exuberant hope of love.
I've vowed to discard that fragment
tossing my miserable frozen chunks
rolling forth with fervent streams
on midnight along a canopy
to fly afar and find my shore.
I've paid my last visit
to broken twigs of dissolving fears
begging for atonement in mercy
swooshing with cushions of dried leaves.
I've wiped the wailing stories
retreating into resurrection
soothing whispers healed my infliction
from hurricanes of exile.
I'm tired I'm tired
I need to move on
to disperse afar
like dandelion seeds.
Unshackled from your anchor
my ship in stormy seas
releases a victorious incandescence
manifested by shimmering strength
of the hurt you'd inflicted upon me..
August 6, 2020
INFLICTIONS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
~Winner: 1st Place
Categories:
chapped, analogy, journey, life,
Form:
Free verse
Ivory flakes drift off snow-tipped pines with ease. December has come and it’s time to stay warm. Days when Autumn’s zenith disappears, when crystalline icicles form without warning. Silver moondust shines afar, captured in a brief moment of barren branches fearing the solstice of Winter. But I believe in the beauty Winter encompasses. The feeling of fresh breeze against my chapped cheeks; embracing hot cocoa to ease my chill.
reverie of snow
barren trees fear the winter-
ivory landscape
Christmas shall soon arrive with all its wonder. All who are merry and bright shall find peace. There is just something about this season that frees the mind from the heat life can bestow. Lights string my home and shine under the crepuscular stars aglow below the Christmas star. Jesus was born in December, and I shall always praise God for birthing a baby boy to adore all my days.
Christmas bestows peace
to all who believe in God-
December birthday
December shall soon turn to January and a new year shall arrive. A new beginning for me; a time to resolute my wishes and dreams. Better myself and bring myself to a place where I can find the hush of Winter’s gust. Days of cold, yet months of warmth from the love I carry for my family. I thank the Lord for nature’s wonder and show gratitude for all He has given me this year.
fresh beginning with
joy to embrace this season-
God is GREAT to me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12.12.19
December or January Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
chapped, christmas, december, family, new
Form:
Haibun
I WAS LED TO LEAD
Icicles of lead
Snowflakes of steel
The wind a gasp of liquid loss
From every branch hung clear spears of yesterday’s mighty weather
A reminder
An appointment with the truth
No scarf could keep me warm as I walked and wandered away
Puddles awaiting ice to be
And quilted jackets were not much protection at all
I continued to stroll with blood red cheeks and lips cracked and chapped as well
I came upon an icicle whose voice only I could hear
As it refused to drip, to grow thinner or to melt
A steadfast ice cube for Mother Nature’s rum and coke
and a line or two wouldn't hurt
Stoic was the snow and the ice wouldn’t say a word
No one to stroll the Streets of sleet to seek a secret sauce
An oblique, opaque frost of frozen memories mixed with minutes of monotony and a
wolf fanged wind with an axe of frigidness
And yet that one icicle stayed it’s place on a branch of births and deaths
Then came down hail of concrete and stones from the sky as each cloud began to
bleed
And some bodies were frozen in place
A horrid day with horrid weather and a horrid date with a “come hither” from heroin,
sweat and the intestines of regret
And by the way, icicles forged of lead never melt
(c) 2011.
Categories:
chapped, angst
Form:
Free verse
From fabrics torn, in ruin, she hail,
Above the deck, beneath the sail,
Above silent meadow, the sea,
Her frosty breath, in doom, she see.
Her fondness torn, her kids apart,
Though love follows her broken heart,
Her sorrow tears on rusted chains,
For holding children once again.
The howling steam erased skies,
And fright gallops the silent cries,
As faces pale in feeble grip,
And sea moaning the crowded ship.
The days are past, remedies none,
The burned down farms from firing sun,
They bent on knees for kids to feed,
Beneath the feet for coin, indeed.
Her husband dead from bones to sweat,
Hard labor earning, closing, debt,
She buried body, beneath the farm,
And begs for mercy, waiting harm.
The beats in rage far fierce than flame,
The bells were rung, with chains they came,
Her toes were trembling, wrath unfolds,
They tortured, beat and tied her, cold.
While taken heart and soul from kids,
The slave in chain with tearful lids,
They dragged and stripped in crowded street,
And brought with slaves to ship, the fleet.
Through cries unheard and night she sails,
With slaves in ship with fuming trails,
To hungers deep in scalding cold,
And chapped lip-lines numb, breaking hold.
Her skin was pale, the hunger tale,
As blue veins rose beneath her nails,
To fading night, her dim eyes sleep,
Her moon-light fades and die asleep.
©Anees Rahman
Categories:
chapped, abuse, dark, family, sea,
Form:
Ballad
Her chapped palms smell of
-ungrateful jasmine-
roughened by shrewd plays of world.
And in the creases of
- youthful forehead-
sleeps an orphaned childhood, old.
Among distasteful leering,
ineffectual rags of
-modesty cries-
unfortunate beauty trapped among
-lechers-
pawn broker and hawker alike.
-Nobody’s Child -
gazes high UP , at the
S
K
Y
S
C
R
A
P
E
R
S ,
elegant unreachable stairs
winding beyond clouds yonder.
S L O W L Y sighing,
At the dreams hidden, on the dark side of
half bitten moon.
Categories:
chapped, daughter, life, sad, social,
Form:
Free verse
How lovely, isn't
It, to have an 'off' switch, shotty wiring
And all,
And a presence lined up to ****?
They are always there
To cauterize the wounds of emotional castration
Without desire to examine
The blood pattern forensics,
Chalking the splatter up
To an affinity towards Jackson Polluck.
Tears are to the meek
As injury is to the bold,
Chastity is to pureness
As promiscuity is to curiosity.
And what
Supplemented activity relates to the character
Defect of an over-eager search for validation?
How surreal a menagerie constructed from
Syringes full of sunshine.
Currency crusted by blood in place of worth,
Hopeful scribbles of the pale and placid carrying
Small flecks of over packed bags under the eye
Can seem when sunlight filters through rose colored lenses;
How frighteningly apparent
Connect-the-dot freckles and
Spasms of the left cheek and
Teddy bear smiles and
Xylophone ribs and
Bits of skin ghosted from lips become
When refracted by a Narcissus pond—
How I m p o r t a n t,
How appropriate these sentiments:
Perfect companions for the rolled-up-carpet's journey
Of finding permanence along river bottom
Set into the silt and framed with waving algae:
A'voir, piggyback consistencies,
Meet oblivion in shreds
Blown out the back end of the skull
In the instant chapped lip worshiper meets collarbone shrine.
Such ready to leech services are no longer
A necessity
In the four hours of chemically enhanced rawness
Stuffed with bile and bruise and suck and lie
Hollowed of meaning,
Save for the proverbial cholesterol of hope clogged in pores.
But I awake in numbness,
Cold and invalid,
With my head pressed on Doubt's chest
And my fingers knotting in its own
Begging to be warm again.
Categories:
chapped, abuse, addiction, angst, courage,
Form:
Free verse
Spring and the great reveal!
Winter is now in full retreat,
those darkest days of rain and sleet,
the clouds will part, as if cut by knife,
the sun warms the earth to beckon life
I throw back the curtains in every room,
to let in the rays and light the gloom,
but then as I blink and my eyes adjust,
I recoil with horror at all that dust!
Spring cleaning is a chore I hate,
but it must be done now, it can't be late,
I mop and dust and polish with wax,
I can't sit in the sun, no time to relax
Now to the kitchen, where I cater,
to remove the dust from the radiator,
down the side of the oven, a treasure trove,
a forgotten chip and a garlic clove
Every room is brought up to muster,
thanks to me and my big yellow duster,
my muscles ache, my energy's sapped,
my face is aglow, my hands are chapped
I think I've finished, but no, wait,
I glance outside beyond the garden gate,
a rusty barbecue, and a lawn full of weeds,
a fence that needs painting, and sprouting seeds
Forgive me if I don't welcome this season,
the work it brings is beyond all reason,
I prefer the winter, the storms and the ice,
curled up with a film and some chocolate that's nice!
Cheryl Darby 2015
Categories:
chapped, funny, house, humor, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
She has grace as she walks ahead of me
She moves with the grace of a catwalker
She has a figure to die for from behind
She has me hastily moving after her
I catch up from a close up the figure is good
Then i start my annoying habit seeing flaws
Seeing imperfections where moments ago
I was seeing madam fabulous charm
I notice her nails are bitten and her lips chapped
I notice her clothes are soo much sun kissed
I notice her pretty face has pimples.. mosquitoes
I notice she is not a high class she's mundane
But the spark in her eyes give me hope
Her flawless smile ever so enchanting
Her warm smile completely redeems her
Am won over we exchange pleasantries
Good from far but far from good
But superficial flaws are never
Deal breakers when you know
you found the right person
Engage you will find a gem
For she worth the good guy
If you find a keeper
put a ring on it
CODE 254
LKN
Finders keepers
Categories:
chapped, appreciation, cute love, dedication,
Form:
Blank verse