Best Contorting Poems
Soundless words gather in the mist of your ever-changing stature
Contorting banter smothers the landscape of your toil
Your soul is defined through pillage of thought and pleasure
Whispers and taunts explode without truth
Circling the antics of foolish affairs
Your respect stains below wicked feet
Gnawing the attentive to reap consideration of being great
Your masquerade was open to me
Groping the passive nature from within
Accepting the ignorance of others
Clutching the fight for happiness
Insubordinate dupe your talent is lacked
Gather your forces I am not coming back
The demon spawns temptation in the minds of mortal men
Exposed is their dark desires, lifted from the pits of hell
Evil breeds in the fiery depths of Satan’s beastly lair
Seeds planted to grow in shadowed corners of a heart
Abysmal minds of the frail are openly inclined to accept
blasphemous words angrily spit from irreverent lips
His rancid breath lights a wick that bursts into flame;
a dastardly exploit, a wicked game orchestrated by Bael,
infernal king with power to devour the weak, the frail
The fallen one leaches on mankind’s thirst for lust
Inside a mind he creeps, contorting visions in dreams
A soulless corpse lies where a man reasonably slumbered
encumbered by vile creatures at the Devil's command
Taken by Satan's hand, a life fuels death’s appetite
His Craft forged in the hotbeds of his dwelling place
A two-faced fiend, slayer of men, father of the lie
Skillfully he plies his trade with false promises he's made
His dirty deeds spring from need and jealous greed
No sleep comes to the one trapped in eternal torment
Screams are cries of fear the devil craves to hear
He accepts no alibis; no second chance does he give
There's no escape from the clutch of his sharpened claws
He'll hold you eternally, without resurrection from the grave
Darkness falls from his shadow, across every land
Scoring souls of modern man from depths of their despair.
He seeks the lost and wicked who'll do his sinful bidding.
Fair warning: be mindful when weary and in need of rest
for the Dark One is a bird catcher, waiting to pounce
and capture those he knows he can lead astray
*Edited by Lin*
air rockets skyward
uppercutting inside
plastic neon flesh
contorting at inhuman angles
what does my body language spell?
ankles anchored into the Earth
to stay grounded as the wave
of time and space crashes
a flood of stagnant flux
there is a symphony of bones
snapping and cracking
in twisted orchestrations
the act of existing for me
is a resilient demonstration
she had lost the plot long before in an insane labyrinth of her mind
trapped in the rat race of high speed and the volume on full blast
incarcerated shackled and straight jacketed thumb screws and all
contorting denial delusion and psychedelic support to no valid avail
and the wall of her self-imposed prison was barbed with wire of pain
the maze of synaptic connections discharged commands of unreason
torturous wheels of cognition failed to balance fierce contradictions
twisting and hurting she succumbed to a myriad of fake solutions
turning the tourniquet tight to receive the message of brown sugar
winding serpentine paths misconstrued from temptation and promise
and still the garden remained a wasteland of intemperate indignation
she had fallen off the wagon so many times that the engine had stalled
sinews lay bare under a sinuous array of purulent scars and punctures
a tattered puzzle of perplexed bewilderment awaiting the ultimate shot
the heroine submerged in near namesake poison in face of the needle
as the epitaph neared completion and the funeral cortege proceeded
she prayed and surrendered to a white knuckling ride of withdrawal
dragons danced with cold turkeys on her tomb stone but they refused
to relinquish hope for affronted vultures puked at sight of her ghost and
she recalls near death experiences and abstinence as a miraculous gift
25th June 2020
O tender soul, o innocence defiled,
What cruelties did your youth upend?
Tormented by she who should cherish her child,
Instead her addictions made her your fiend.
Those eyes that should have beamed with a mother's love,
Grew cold and contemptuous in the throes of her vice.
What horrors played out in that hellish dugout,
As her demons unleashed their malicious device?
Did her hands that were meant to soothe and caress,
Leave marks of unspeakable malice instead?
While her harsh words like knives did your spirit suppress,
Leaving your young mind battered and misled.
In that lair where you should have known only grace,
An unholy darkness descended to reign.
Fear and anguish contorting your sweet face,
As her sickness lashed out again and again.
O the trauma embedded, those indelible scars,
That no child should ever have etched on their soul.
Your safe haven perverted by terror's brutal chars,
Stripping security's blanket that should make one whole.
And when at last you were plucked from that pit,
From the hell that your childhood had tragically become,
Other arms tried to embrace and permit
The shattered pieces of you to be some.
But the ghost of those horrors still stalked in your mind,
Echoing torments that never were quieted.
The hyper-vigilance always lurking behind,
As the demons you fled, you could not outride.
For PTSD's insidious grip took its hold,
Replaying those memories of helplessness felt.
The night terrors and flashbacks forever retold,
Of the agonies your young being did pelt.
O you brave, resilient warrior of the soul,
Battered but never defeated by your youth's blight.
The traumas that tried to leave you a haunted, scarred toll,
Could never extinguish your infinite light.
For though she was meant to protect you
My muse is like a carnival,
a celebration of kaleidoscope colors,
a dazzling display of light and sound.
Circling slowly until I feel dizzy.
Will I crumple and fall?
A house of mirrors
with peculiar shapes and sizes
evoking flustered feelings
and contorting my cognitive map.
Which avenue shall I follow?
A tunnel of love where my mind
lingers on the ways emotion
plays with my heart, at first
soothing, then exasperating.
Liberating or beleaguering?
A house of horrors where
I live out my darkest thoughts
and flex my remarkable resilience
to the beckoning of the dark side.
Can I be truly free?
The roller coaster is exhilarating
and sets my mind free again
the ups and downs of life and living
and the fear of death
Is that so wrong?
Titillating tilt-a-whirl,
multitudinous perspectives
twirling one side then another
seeing with curious fly eyes.
Am I, or my muse, to blame?
"When yesterdays became devoid of compassion",
you became the reflection in my mirror—
the darkness that cast its shadows upon my walls,
the screams that woke me in the dead of night.
Reaching out, silhouettes dissipated into thin air.
When the clock approached the witching hour.
Nothing but my demons were there to keep me company.
Forked tongues whispered insecurities,
poison-dipped lies into bleeding ears,
twisting and contorting what remained
of a false saviour's psyche.
You see, I could not save you from the depths of pain you swam through.
It was pulling us both down, drowning us in murky waters,
choking and gagging on your sins—we kept sinking faster.
The blackness became heavier
until light could not pierce the veil.
Begging me, you pleaded, "Hold on to me just a little longer."
But the weight became unbearable.
I had to untie the rope around our fragile souls.
I had to let you go.
And now I drown in my own guilt
every time I take a tainted breath
in this distorted world.
"The Circus"
The master of ceremonies taps his cane to begin the fireworks
While graduates of the ground exercise their prowess high above
They are wired with decent grip on balancing poles that save their lives
The crowd holds their breath to a well paced piece written just for them
Expressing god given talents in consonance to the format of the show
There are many circumstances of life and death to travel a topsy turvy wire
The crowd has gasped enough
Surprising all who thought they could not do it
The danger, the glory, all to the tune of "Let Me Fall"
A luscious aria for the ears begins to assuage the high tensions
Seeing participants of talent take on amazing feats
Colorfully contorting and twisting to terrifying positions
We could never dream about for it would break our backs
A motorcycle roars loudly without a muffler, majestically it comes
To ride the ring of fire for which rock anthems echo
Off the circle and through the heat while the elephants wait their turn
Standing on hind legs they rise to the occasion
Responding to measures that escalate the mood,
Agnes waves her dancing trunk in 4/4 time
The audience waves back and claps in satisfaction
For the show that began as the Circus Maximus
When Romans needed entertainment all those years ago
And the practitioners of stunt were truly at risk flying high
Without cords and wires for safety, they flew to new realms
Of daring and danger all meant for applauding strangers
Lions and tigers and bears oh my! Today will be so special for the kids
Looking at this and looking at that, all amongst a backdrop of darkness
The clowns flipping bowling pins flopping around in over sized red shoes
Their jovial exterior matches a beauty inside them
It's all for the children responding to boisterousness and glee
Tigers know when to roar and acrobats know when to soar
Adding to a perfect panorama no one can possibly take it all in
The finale comes to an end and they say good bye, taking a bow
Lights come back on and the atmosphere is gone
And leaving almost feels like a sin
So divinely exhilarating, yet
Exhausting and contorting -
X-rated gymnastics!
My mirror continues to annoy me
Its contorting the face that I see
I cant be that old
But the truth be told
My birthday and the image agree
Strange
Of times of ways
The waves that carry
The space that scares you
Into who you have to be
Strange
The voices
Around
Inside you
Hide to
Find the light
Don’t know what you might
Discover
Strange
The faces
They make at you
Contorting their ways into
Monsters who play
With your heart
You freely give to them
Letting them break
Letting them change
Because you don’t know how
Strange
Is become real
And really not strange
Anymore
Normal
The times the ways
Now you forget
How strange
I look in the mirror and I lock eyes with a vile wretch
The physical embodiment of mankinds ugliest stares back
Peering into a window I catch a glimpse of every imperfection buried deep within my soul
I shatter the mirror the pain of the reflection overpowering the feelings of the glass now stuck in my hand
Another reminder of why life has always tip toed around my existant
excusing itself to a world relieved of my presence
free from the uncomfortable questions of a curious mind
And the free expression of a soul that danced to its own seranade for lack of a better option
Free from a spirit that could not be contorted into the place society had etched out for it
But contorting into something unwanted something disconcerting
carving a way through unfamiliar terrain in the hope of finding a place it could call home
Gathering scars and wounds so deep they cut into the soul tainting it with the corruption and hate
spilling out of the daggers of alienation stabbing from unkind strangers in a world of contempt
glowing brighter with every new experience unclear of whether its transcending or descending
growing graceful and grotesque colouring outside of the lines of societies expectances
On this journey my eyes lock with a pair of blue-green eyes shining with the brightness of familiarity
But where in the mirror I had seen something odd, out of place and unwelcome
in her eyes danced the beauty of the universe's most perfect creation
The oddities and strangeness not subtracting from but somehow adding to her mysterious charm
Where I saw the failure in my own design reflected in her I saw only the perfection of a vibrant soul
My scientific mind had its first taste of destiny as the will of fate was pulling at my heartstrings
As if all of the struggles of life had been overcome just for this one moment where I could see this being of a divinity
And in the reflection of my eye she saw only the reflection of herself a reflection society had told her to depise
like the vile wretch of a man society tells her is standing before her
but she sees in me the same that I see in her
an essence of perfection whose far too good for me
West coast, east coast
This question is for you in the waist coat
What about us in the mid-west?
People like to boast
Pork and beans and roast beef
And other simple stuff
Like dumplings and toast
All the things that perish with the eating
Sleeping through productive meetings
I know you think I'm tripping
But get a grip
I'm also guilty. No kidding
You ask me how I know all this
And the answer is simple
I saw you sitting under the fig tree
Go figure, you are the whiz kid
But in a moment I'll clue you in
You say people look like trees walking
Singing twisted lyrics about feelings
You say you just want to make a killing
No hard feelings
It's all about the Benjamins
Images of bags filled with greenbacks
But I doubt it, and I'll tell you about it
Some are drowning
Runaway notions about emotions
I see you loud and clear
You'll have to know I'm not far but near
You keep on causing commotion
With your explosive concoctions
Contorting misdirected souls
She sang beautifully in the choir
But is now hooked on synthetic fire
Unfettered thoughts and desires
I hope you feel my ire
Tooting horns and screeching tires
Choo-choo, there it goes
Iron centipede
Runaway train speeding across town
Stop the world I want to get on
Collection of lost souls chasing a lost cause
Moving fast, hurtling past, grabbing about
Hoping to get their name announced
Jostling for their name to appear somewhere
Stop the car I want to get on
Get me on the fast track, I'm going nowhere
Stop the train I want to get off
In the depth of night
While all is quiet
The mind starts to fade
Off into unexplainable shades
Conjuring images universally bound
A state of inexplicable bliss
twisting, shifting, contorting forms
Time itself ceases to exist
Where is this mysterious place?
A kind of subliminal trance
Which can be tapped into
Any given time you like
Is this the land of the youth?
The one the ancients refer to?
The same path the shaman walks?
Swirling colours and shimmering beings
In the light of day, it is possible
But lacks a quality that is not quantifiable
Though allusive as it appears
The difference is noticeable
Can we traverse the time continuum
Simply by inducing a trance?
Do our ancestors speak to us
In tongues unknown to our ears?
I believe this to be true
And have experienced it first hand
As I stomped my feet like a crazed bull
Turning into a trance dance
The tongue definitely foreign
But the emotions spoke clearly
This connection between realms
Maybe thin, but does exist
Am I not a speck of decaying dust falling aimlessly?
In a rented room full of seeding sorrow, windows shut
Thrown from the core of love, corridors filled with emptiness
Where smoke rises and descends to occupy the slaving space
And hearts halt to a near cardiac arrest, contorting cells
Where the heavens meet their hells, before mourning breakfast arrives
I rest on a baneful bed, bludgeoned by thoughts, sweating
Then I awake with a shattered smile and coffee brewing
Engulfed by loneliness the sun shines its tender light, again
And dreams drift thru windows pane, beyond the gauzy glass.
Theme: Heartbreak
Jan.16.2019
10 Lines 10 Words
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
Placed 1'st...Thank You