Best Clasp Poems
I slither through the deep forest
across a mystical scene collecting remains
from last evening’s venture : a shiny ligure,
china teapot, faded locket, and scraps
of letters on a trail of past impressions.
By now, periscope of dawn’s glitter
enlarges its serene movements
as light’s thick veil blinds my vision
on a quadrivial of glossed field ,encircling
my reality fragile and calm amidst balmy scent
of air entering my veins in gradual awareness.
In that clasp of silence purely unbelievable
reservoir of breath refills tired bosoms;
and the forest stands still in its auburn robe
waiting for clouds to form pathways
before the sun returns me back home.
Any Subject Contest of Shadow Hamilton
by nette onclaud
11 jul 2013
when into scaly claws, sans first
to sixth grade Precambrian relic
(Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse,
Missus Wells, Mister Stout, Missus Shaner,
or Miss Rinderle).
Invariably the majority
of elementary grades didst accord
accredited ancient authenticated creatures bored
(with exception of sixth)
freely exercised diabolical chord
churlish beastial animalistic
zealous yakking, wickedly,
aye (a basket case) deplored
unprintable (epithets) this then
(unprincipled urchin) puny pupil felt lord
did over whacked, sans receiving end,
viz fiendishly gruesome
hellish instructions mean teacher scored.
Assignments buttressed with ultimatums
harkening back to Jurassic period earlier
in the dawning primate consciousness.
Lesson material kindled justifiable license
in league garnered insignia heft brought pupils
to heal predicated, via warpped weft woven
wonderfully wrought writs welcomed whips
with warranty whenever recalcitrant ruffian
refused respecting reptilian rubric representative
saber rattling, where...
(The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver
of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will
Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do),
which loosely rendered regularly warbled
wishy washy verse curmudgeons freedom
granted to interpret as one decrepit, hawkish
insignia certified one beaming Eve and/or
stud deed brute soffit.
Education often relied on the weekly reader,
and letters to or from Aunt Emma to this Jack,
oh napeswho never wrote back
sheesh, alas and alack.
Nefarious mean linkedin kickstarter jawboning
torturous treatment tolerated, asper imps
of pervert, mutant Ninja Turtles duty bound
antsy youthful yokel yodelers weathering ululating
sing-song quintessential precepts.
adieu:
math a hew
scott harris a gentile Jew
all ways felt like new
kid on the block isolated
in his hermetically sealed queue
pay perm ash shay watched per view
whew
at last in conk clew shun to you
from one primate within the human zoo.
Superfluous words
are not needed from my love
his embrace is all
caught in an octopus’ arms
rip tide of tentacles
underwater currents
the black ink indelible
syphoned protection
can’t see the circling sharks
in my cocoon of false shadows
a surreal embrace
suction caps in action
in surprise
that it is me who
holds on for dear life
a fairy tale because a dolphin
comes to my rescue
until I glow in the dark
disentangle my fear
make friends with an imagined foe
condense spray into light
dissolve and reflect on
what could have been if I
had not been at rock bottom
not caved in to the pressure
sometimes life sheds its meaning
in dubious squirts
allegories and metaphors
until you dive in murky gloom
and take a tight squeeze
decompress on ascent
accept inklings of surrender
16th April 2021
A rhetorical question finds me ask
king (to no one in particular) why I bask
with recollection the names of blank
exclamatory staid grade school crank
key teachers approximately
42,0480,000 breaths aye drank
fifty years ago (most whose names frank
lee listed below),
when the need to access
and retrieve
immediate necessary information
analogously interleaved
among coaxial bracts
during examinations relegated
as hopelessly lost
into interstitial invisible cranial cracks
irretrievably buried
during examinations, which age
(feels like a million years ago)
often found me seized and caged
with sudden inability to remember
any vital answers as gauged
evidenced by nothing writ
ten on paper (even including my name),
thus loosely similar as aye sit
to compose poetry,
and/or prose tempted to quit
asper defeated by resignation,
and sinking sensation in the pit
of my stomach (more so regarding orbit
ting like an unsound garden
black hole son around cold (mit
ten necessary) awful days grudgingly
handing over like a lit
till insignificant being,
a test paper devoid of academic grit
analogously surrendering
(while feeling fit
tubby tied, sense internally emit
ting abnegation sans chafing at the bit,
yet no sooner did buzzer indicated test
time over, then (of course),
an instantaneous pest
that blocked chunk dramatically
flowered gloriously invoking nest
head treasured mother lode
of learned information invest
ment accounting for principle ball lanced
formerly figuratively barricaded facts
suddenly at my behest
ironically retaining to this day
dogged details amazingly,
now gracing lix spittle fist size gray
dictating academic failure
forcing laying down pen hay
for ma forgotten requisite thoughts may
king skepticism about self thrive, ray
zing mailer demons impossible to slay,
A rhetorical question finds me ask
king (to no one in particular) why I bask
with recollection the names of blank
exclamatory staid grade school crank
key teachers approximately
42,0480,000 breaths aye drank
fifty years ago (most whose names frank
lee listed below),
when the need to access
and retrieve
immediate necessary information
analogously interleaved
among coaxial bracts
during examinations relegated
as hopelessly lost
into interstitial invisible cranial cracks
irretrievably buried
during examinations, which age
(feels like a million years ago)
often found me seized and caged
with sudden inability to remember
any vital answers as gauged
evidenced by nothing writ
ten on paper (even including my name),
thus loosely similar as aye sit
to compose poetry,
and/or prose tempted to quit
asper defeated by resignation,
and sinking sensation in the pit
of my stomach (more so regarding orbit
ting like an unsound garden
black hole son around cold (mit
ten necessary) awful days grudgingly
handing over like a lit
till insignificant being,
a test paper devoid of academic grit
analogously surrendering
(while feeling fit
tubby tied, sense internally emit
ting abnegation sans chafing at the bit,
2.
yet no sooner did buzzer indicated test
time over, then (of course),
an instantaneous pest
that blocked chunk dramatically
flowered gloriously invoking nest
head treasured mother lode
of learned information invest
ment accounting for principle ball lanced
formerly figuratively barricaded facts
suddenly at my behest
ironically retaining to this day
dogged details amazingly,
now gracing lix spittle fist size gray
dictating academic failure
forcing laying down pen hay
for ma forgotten requisite thoughts may
king skepticism about self thrive, ray
zing mailer demons impossible to slay.
No matter how fast I run, or how high I climb,
It always escapes me, that being called “Time”
It is a cunning sparrow, taunting with each rasp
But with each step nearer, flies out of my grasp
Fleeing from my hands, away from my clutch
Just millimeters away but not enough to touch
Running up a steep mountain, I lunge to clasp
But stepping closer to the edge, I let out a gasp
Richly hued feathers painted black and blue,
Each trapping my limbs, my feet stuck like glue
Plant-like appendages wrapping around like vines,
Securing me in place to watch the minute hand’s line
Each tick, each beat, each shake of its slender tail,
Speeds up my heart rate and the pace at which I inhale
Staying in the same place, I beg and plead for more
More of that being which continues to soar and ignore
To this day the sparrow continues to hide and mock,
To glide around others and let out a triumphant squawk
For no one can stop time, whether I am young or old
Only during my final breaths, the sparrow I can hold
Written: July 7, 2021
Contest: “Grasp”
Sponsor: Constance La France
I paused, the moonlight to inhale
As I put my steep climb on hold
Thick grape vines held tight in my grasp.
On I climbed to clutch a buttress
My breath reduced unto a gasp.
On I clambered higher to clasp
The dark hued castle tower cap
I donned my rig to glide away
And soar over broad moonlit vale.
7/5/2021
Writing Prompt - Grasp - Poetry Contest
Constance La France
Grass clutch to the music of dew when spring is near.
When you glide, the breeze brings an impactful smell.
The spring can hold the most sway; it will indeed appear.
Although sunbeams are splendid, the clouds are scant.
Sea waves play tunes, and hued spring blossoms inhale.
God gives us the spring climate as a merciful necklet.
I look up, curious around how the cloud is adept to fly.
Many tangled timberlands and a slew of vines.
Sufficient vigor gasp you to take off with the hawky.
Purple tulips clasp dance to the voice of gold bloom.
Grasp the mysterious downpour vibration on the trees.
The desire for hotter days after a long spell of gloom.
This is a delight that no gem or cash can yield.
When warmth is here, the world is enticing to nibble.
The thawing spring can soar a genuine flavor to the head.
Written June 25, 2021
Writing Prompt - Grasp - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
what crazy kind of love is this
that makes me want know one else
the nights with you are endearing and special
and I am never by myself.
the rapture of heaven must have
opened heavens door
the precious love of this
angelic person
a world cannot ignore
from a world of uncaring you've restored my faith
made the oceans calmer
and the world a better place
most of these thoughts seem unseemingly true
theirs no harm in sharing
because I love you
Stockholm syndrome.
Entrapped.
Entranced by you.
Pheromones.
Googally eyes.
Butterflies.
Feeling so good should never be so wrong.
Took a deadly double dose of this drug.
Almost took a bite of your apple.
Your horns are growing.
Your hold on me is indestructible.
Your facade is better than the real you.
I remember when you said you'd always be here in the backyard lights.
And then you dug a hole 6 feet down.
You didn't just take the spotlight, you became it.
My love for you was bulletproof but you're the one who shot me.
Love is nothing but a weakness now i see.
Like a moth to the flame.
I dont mind.
It is what it is.
Cemetery weather.
Crows started gawking.
Close my eyes.
Fade into you.
Panic is a longing to live long,
Yet, a betraying of one not being strong;
All the way leading to a taunting song
From persons who panic judge a wrong;
Who when others duly panic
Unduly continue to picnic,
Honestly taking a Sinking Titanic
For a thing to its peril mimic.
But is one to panic or gasp
Or for that matter fearful hands clasp,
When one has seen not a snake
Nor the as rubbery but fake:
When rather it is some irksome wasp,
Whose clear differences we grasp?
more than suitable
excellent
appealing enough to say
it's marvelous
beyond approach
spectacular
grandeur than grand
finest in a levels
how might someone do better