Best Cowering Poems


Premium Member I Am Winter

I Am Winter

I am cold – not heartless,
nor do I wish any harm.
This is just the way it is,
my gaze - a shivering chill,
my kiss - a frosty sting,
my breath - a numbing touch.

I come alone – uninvited
unwelcome, unappreciated
to lull to sleep the cycles
that need rejuvenation.

I am angry – for you fear me -
shut your doors, lock your windows,
deny me but your harshest looks
wrap yourselves in layers
lest we touch.

I am saddened – thus I whine
dancing around your houses
bending low the cowering trees
weeping sub zero tears
that never fall.

I am Winter –
and when my time is done
you will rejoice that I have gone
never thanking me –
for the beauty that awaits.


John G. Lawless
12/17/2014

Submitted to PD’s – Winter Poems #1 – Poetry Contest

Premium Member Litany of Borrowed Sorrows

The sorrows we borrow,
the sorrows we keep—
are debts of the dead,
replayed in our sleep.

Blood writes the tally,
blood writes it in red;
tomorrow collects
what yesterday bled.

The sun drags its shadow.
The sun drags its shroud—
darkness advancing
cowering aloud.

Dry eyes at dawn.
Ashes inbred;
a prayer in the dust,
a prayer for the dead.

The sun flares faintly,
a wound in the sky.
The clouds part briefly,
yet cold will not die.

What was served yesterday
lies rotting today;
a banquet of abstinence,
a plate of decay.

Tears must be borrowed.
Tears must be sown;
the covenant is endless,
the debt as ever has grown.

I am summoned.
I am again sworn—
to gather the blood,
to nourish the thorn,
to water dead flowers,
for sorrow's reborn.

Bending the Darkness

Bending the darkness

Look at you cowering, haunted by fiction
Shapes at the window of menacing tone
Tearing your hope into shreds as you lie there
Gazing at ceilings and feeling alone

Afraid to put both of your feet on the carpet
Hands neath the bed will be slicing your skin
Each tiny noise a volcanic eruption
Stalking your mind, it’s about to begin

Puddles of stench line the gutters of nowhere
Terror the class that has taken a seat
Staring at clocks on the faces of buildings
Waiting for dark so their bellies may feast

Appetites strung on a line made of nightmares
Low in the middle from gathering weight
Clouds overhead cast a blanket of secrets
Hiding the moon in its delicate state

Claws on the ground carry wings carved of leather
Eyes crimson red dripping stares at the door
Paint if you like for an X tells them nothing
Only when feeding they’ll even the score

Shadows on avenues lurk past the railings
Low tenor moaning their late evening song
Hide in the corners, but still they will find you
Cry if you must for it won’t be too long

Peer from the covers, your fears they are waiting
Calling your name in an echoed refrain
Lapping reflections from water so stagnant
Remnants of filth tossed about in the rain

Know this my friend, in a term used defiant 
Answers aren’t penned in some book on a shelf
No fancy title with gold colored letters
All that you need can be found in yourself

Break free these chains that are holding you tightly
Open your eyes, there is so much to see
Breathe in the air for the sun it is shining
Shake off the rust and be all you can be

Always there’ll be someone bending the darkness
Pulling and dragging each star from the sky
Show them your wings spun of pride woven fabric
Give them a smile it is your turn to fly

You can beat anything you set your mind to
No matter what someone else has to say
Hold your head high, watch the monsters now fleeing
This is your time and today is your day


1/25/2017


Lie, Truth, & Reality

I walk above all pain
            risen and relentless 
                       floating on borrowed air oblivious
This heart is impervious fortress, like stonewall embattlements
...that lie is twisted around every bitter past and hollow present

Meandering useless, wander and watch
Romances ebbing, flowing, flying, crashing...dead
Envy circles about my head
longer away, further removed...and lonely

This heart is porous Swiss, like wine-tasting afterthoughts
...that truth is a hulking shadow looming disproportionate
     engulfing any new light on unseen horizons

Only wishing she might see and understand
My hot and cold passion platters served accordingly
 apprehensive only in love's pursuits
   timid like bullied school children cowering in corners
Brash and outspoken otherwise...shackled when it may matter

This heart is neglected farmland, like wartorn meadows
...that reality inhibits every bright angle of my soul
     suffocating the man you would love...if you knew

Outside the Lines

Outside the lines 

What is it about poetry 
that so consumes you
Brings you to your knees,
cowering in a corner
of your own delusions
Reading in between the lines,
finding what is not really there
Dropping hints of absurd defiance,
collecting spoonful after spoonful
of puzzled meanings and chaliced dreams

Flowing symbolisms, metaphoric landscapes -
Where bushes are bluebirds
and sidewalks - bridges of no return

Why do you reach
into your pocket, searching for love
on plain white paper folded into a square,
when all along it faces you -
not in ink, but in smiles
expressing exactly what is felt
No boundaries or disguised emotions
penned in rhythmic sequence,
only true love, standing on this sidewalk -
which is only a sidewalk

What is it about poetry 
that so consumes you,
when love is waiting – just outside the lines

Shapeless

much like me on a sleepless night
i hear the roar of this restless ocean
pounding like thoughts in my head
as the wind drives me back
one step for every two i take
beneath this blood red rise of morning

inimical are these waves
as they lash out against the rocks
unleashing a spray
like a breath in winter's air
exhaled

yet it falls
like a rake against sand
claiming anything in its path
pulling it in then spitting it out
only to build again
like a raged mind
dissilient 

i stand distanced
cowering on the sands
of time
awaiting its calm

June 24 2021

The Shape of water contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish


A Girl

As light leaves us,
the truth is unveiled.
A girl lies with sorrows unscaled.
To wither and die, 
without hope on her side.
She can no longer see a light,
to guide her through those forsaken nights.
She waits for a sign,
that all will come in line.
She is in pain,
with no one to help, all efforts sought in vain.
When will the girl see,
there are others like she.
Others share her pain, 
others like me.
Her light once pierced through the shadows,
it was a beacon through the night.
Now it is only a dying flame,
leaving the world to darkness,
cowering in shame.
A girl lies dying in her pain.
© Dani Doz  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member These Trees

"I stood still and was a tree amid the wood,
Knowing the truth of things unseen before;"
. . .
"Nathless I have been a tree amid the wood
And many a new thing understood
That was rank folly to my head before."

   --- from The Tree, by Ezra Pound
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Slender, singular, filamentous fir,
Yellowing larch -- these trees
Do not speak but seem to sleep,
Sheltering skinny sheep
Handily herded -- full-fleeced
In lanolin-laden wool.

Sheep do not sleep much.
They speak their protest --
(Such ineffective baas) --
To cloning and to closeness.

All, doubles of the ovine others,
Crowded among brothers,
Cowering under silent wood:
Dissimilar dark fir;
Lone, yellowing
Larch.

Don'T Look Behind You

Don’t Look Behind You


From swamp I lifted from an arm
But collapsed to pitiful puddles
And ground my fist in slush
As I heard their voices
Drag at thus
And make of evil a cunning mist
Has me bewitched

Lost for all my will to do righteousness
Has led me astray in my ego wish
And left me bleating and bawling
Cowering and quivering
By the ancient grave
That made in secret

Chill, black as the imagination can make it
Seeps through every pore
And begins my desire to do its bidding
And what comfort there be
But
Murder
Most foul
Of stained and terrified blood
For mad men to feast upon

And still I cannot find my way from 
This spine chilling howl
And was it me in moonlight
Drenched in red
My reflection does not seem similar now
But my heart races
And lips drool
And my throat
Growls

Am I cursed 

The hairs on my arm on down my neck
Stand
But is it bristle they feel
For there is a scent of death and raw meat
In the air

I savour

Murder

In a bath of drooling slavering

Vein pumping

Slavering

Madness

Premium Member Chessman

Confidently he played
Cat and mouse across the
Chequered board of her heart,
Cheating behind her back.
Caught in the act, he lay
Cowering in defeat:
Checkmate...the final move.

---------------------------
Contest: Pleiades - C
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Placed 1st
© 23rd August, 2016

Worthless

When we first met, I was
  caring
  sharing
  loving
to you 
 
After awhile together, you were
  abusing
  bruising
  confusing
to me 
 
Now that I'm alone, I am
  groveling
  cowering
  cringing
to everyone
 
Blows that bruise the face
 can heal without a trace
But words keep their ugly embrace
 that time can never erase
Feeling worthless is a place
 that takes real strength to ever out race.

A July Dawn

Shaft of sunlight crawls across the lawn,
it's amber wash sets apple trees aglow,
their shadows form, the spearheads of the dawn
now bully cowering bedding plants below.
Before the darkness on the ground recedes,
Blackbird darts out for food, with sudden stops
to monitor some movement in the weeds,
then heads for safety in the bramble tops.
A yawning cat emerges, looks about,
no sport, no competition to amuse,
its shift is over, time to now clock out
for breakfast, comfy cushion and a snooze.
Some folk like lying in, but then they miss
those peaceful, lazy sunrises like this.
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Fated Hell

Slovenly sorrows cause a blur,
Shameful shallows seep and stir.
He whimpers; a cowering cur,
Deathbed's deals, give-take, now occur.
Soul dried, bunched ball of prickly burr
Waste-of-time tears, goad like a spur.

Apologies, are but a slur,
Regrets besmirch like rancid myrrh.
Slanderers’ stooge, no amateur,
Souls sold, Evil’s entrepreneur.
Atropos to cut; F A T E S concur
Time to let loose this saboteur! 

“Burn in H E L L”,  said the whisperer…


Susan Ashley
July 28, 2017


~ Third Place ~
Contest: Early August Standard
Sponsor: Brian Strand

Premium Member Tell Me - Who Do You Say That I Am

Tell Me -Who Do You Say That I Am?

Tell me.  Who do you say I am?

Word 
First voice to enlighten creation’s realms
Word of prophet’s words from mystic mystery runes 
Prophecy and proverb wearing vision
Flow from pure agape
Living Psalm
A to Z – song composed – never a chord that stumbles -
The perfect chaste circle drawn in round circumference
Architect of straight lines with no wobbles -
Unbroken circumcised covenant – designer of my soul

Tell me.  Who do you say I am?

Anointed Mighty
Unreachable star embraced
Crafter of restoration for rebellion thrashing
Defies disabled limbs with steps of faith
Transfiguration of blackness to see the eternal face
Opens ears to hear thunder’s glory
Dines with astonished tree dwellers
Full measure of mercy’s undisturbed pulse
Knows each of my words before they breathe


Tell me.  Who do you say I am?

Righteousness
Metamorphosis of nativity
Bottomless paradigm of favor
Wheat and grape in synchronicity
Holds back the hand that flings the stone
Raises up cowering shame
Eyes of perfect sight plan perfection’s gift for each heart
Pristine living covenant
My enigma’s answer – my conundrum’s solution

Tell me.  Who do you say I am?

Eternal
Valentine of paradise
Eden’s immaculate reforestation
Vine of the endless unblemished harvest
Anointed eternity with us
Wholeness of a holy rainbow 
Gold  - no need to be refined
Face of forever consolation
My first breath in every season’s restoration

Tell me.  Who do you say I am?

You are I AM.

4-27-21
Contest:  Tell Me.  Who Do You Say I Am?
Sponsor:  Mystic Rose Rose

Premium Member Silently She Drowns

Drifting between love and hate
chained spread-eagled in a tug-of-war 
of extreme emotions pulling relentlessly;
her body aches ... her mind bubbling,
a boiling cauldron pleading for release.
In her parched throat a stifled scream
soundlessly quivers, then retreats
into the dark chasm deep within
cowering in the chilly dungeon
where her heart lies slowly bleeding.
Torn to shreds her dreams hang
in front of her misty eyes, blurred...
she struggles between the choice
of fire and water, courage and defeat.

A key turns...the door slams...footsteps.

His loud voice calls; her body trembles
as yet again she reluctantly succumbs 
to overpowering waves of helplessness...
Silently she drowns in fearful anticipation.

------------------------------------------
[Many women suffer in silence while struggling with abusive relationships.
This B&W picture reflects the dark mood of this poem.]
------------------------------------------

26th April, 2016
Being Invisible Contest#2 by Skat A

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