Best Curdle Poems
Seafarers shall be saved, though waves may
deem them dead, lost in the ocean's fray
they shall not perish, nor shall they be afraid
nor falter, though their earthly woes be done.
They shall tame the deep, brave the mighty Charybdis
and win release to heaven's blessed throne.
Nor shall the poor be stilled in death's dark tomb;
they shall enjoy the fruits their earthly span denied
and reap full harvest as they rule the Pleiades!
The lame will mark their years well spent
in painful suffering at the world's behest,
for they will revel with the wild Eumenides!
The realm of death is nothing to be feared,
though sting of loss shall curdle in the breasts
of the deserted they will finally comprehend
true love's eternal message in their hearts;
the special blessing of the ones who heed the call,
the realm of heaven draws all the faithful home.
polysemy
protrudes, prodding power
letting chiasma
churn and curdle
ply poet-marriage:
an anankean lockless key—a dower
set upon a
dorseless tower
I eat my crow,
drowned in chowder
time sealed in
the wicking willow wood
—CODA—
I don’t want to
be solved
I want to be
inhabited
working in
dream-logic
surrealist
disjunctive fissures
places where
contradictions coexist
that is—
precisely
pointless
=======
At post teenage
some day at tea a committee
my mates same age
while seated a round wooden chair
legs crossed, sipping coffee
did asked me
why do you speak in proverbs
poetry they mean to say.
I air to them in strong verb
living poetry is great pay
In poetic pen
pour my tears
my write for men
in verse
on the tables of my mind
is engraved poetic rhymes
poetry is fertility to my kind
like fertilizer the farm
I smile and chime
On the day of my birth
to this world I ushered
I vest in shirt
to enter
POETRY was there
to curdle me with care
SHE smeared me with her
poetic cream on my curly hairs
and as a toddler
when I blink
am full of laughter
with my poetic winkle
my poetic milk teeth you did see
as an infant
you did gaze at me
poetic baby you did me call at instant
Am Poem grown now!
Stamp my attitudes on my write
customize my plight
to copyright
My lyrics in verse
of my tears
It sheds
Prose penned
my mind
in kind
Poems
to tend
my dines
I feed
I live
believe
to succeed
I hunger in poetics
I so eat poetry
I thirsts in poetics
so I drink poetry
I air in poetics
so I breath poetry
I feel bored without poetics
I love cling poetry
I dream poetics
so I live poetry
I sing poetics
I speak poetry
I sleep poetics
I sit poetically
smile poetics
chime poetically
walk poetically
laughter in poetics
work poetically
after all in poetics
am a Poet
with
a bleeding
pen.
7th place
Your fave poem 2020 not written for a contest
John H
4/19/2020
Intense emotions surged when justice sought
if I defended wrongful witness brought.
Then I was saved through Daniel; nearly caught.
Accused of sins absurd, derogatory words
from people’s tongues not curbed, but gossip which they heard.
Cupidity the driving force behind
the false accusers’ spiteful state of mind.
So rarely friends could then be found in kind.
The tides will ebb and flow as inner doubts still grow;
for balm of ocean’s throw thus right so many lows.
If seen at daily tasks, I’m never fraught.
I won’t let memories my love to curdle.
Some kindness helped recover peaceful find,
depend’n whichever way the wind should blow.
why do we
still assume that whispered diamond dialects
delicate and sheer
aren't scripted with blades
that curdle blood-stained musings
as summer symphonies scorch ebony skin
tattooed with dark and deep sinister sonnets
sewn from superficial scarlet syllables
that emanate rusted mahogany hues
so listen to the mulberry metaphors
that rain with roseate rhymes
from the hazy melancholic midnight skies
where not every mist of dust
becomes a halcyon teal blue rivulet
of passionate poetry
nor do they mirror
the wind
carrying unspoken tale
that is veiled
beneath twinkling twilight tides
Seafarers shall be saved, though waves may
deem them dead, lost in the ocean's fray
they shall not perish, nor shall they be afraid
nor falter, though their earthly woes be done.
They shall tame the deep, brave the mighty Charybdis
and win release to heaven's blessed throne.
Nor shall the poor be stilled in death's dark tomb;
they shall enjoy the fruits their earthly span denied
and reap full harvest as they rule the Pleiades!
The lame will mark their years well spent
in painful suffering at the world's behest,
for they will revel with the wild Eumenides!
The realm of death is nothing to be feared,
though sting of loss shall curdle in the breasts
of the deserted they will finally comprehend
true love's eternal message in their hearts;
the special blessing of the ones who heed the call,
the realm of heaven draws all the faithful home.
“The Path towards REMEMBERING is not for the weak. It is priceless. Move inwards, without faltering & know that you are held.” Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
journey within is strewn with jagged edges
and jewels
both can lead to detours
walking a straight and narrow path one
traverses own jungle untamed
lame sometimes becomes our resolve
not to forge ahead beyond crags or rags
is not an option once undertaking begins
screams may merge with songs or dreams
cream alongside starvation or salvation
a luminous beckoning lighthouse at end of tedium slogs hold us steady
often makes us heady
in solitude with faith we need make no haste
knowingness with Heart’s compass surely
keeps us safe
neither hazard or hurdle makes us curdle
Soul the master of destined fate never late
to turn cherished key into jewelled Home
within is majestic prize to win
treading inwards indicates an
embrace of valour
knowing one is held ——
a journey strewn with jagged edges
unknown detours
once on a straight narrow path
turnarounds disappear
jungles untamed appear
lame sometimes becomes our resolve
though forging beyond crags or rags
one cannot sag or lag _____
perseverance becomes no severance
seventh heaven with salvation usurps
starvation
luminosity at end of slog holds steady
in solitude we need make no haste
knowingness, as Heart’s compass
keep us safe
hazards or hurdles cannot curdle
an inward journey ~
Spirit of destined fate never late
turns burnished key into Home to be
w i t h i n is
M A J E S T Y
How Did It Get So Late So Soon?
Lines on my face
How did that happen?
How did it get so late so soon?
Gray-streaked hair
and creaky old joints
How did it get so late so soon?
Can't think how to write
a line like Seuss
or personify a great big moose
No Whos here, no Fox
No Horton, no Sox
No cats and no hats
No Yertle the turtle
No counting fish
I'm starting to curdle!
How did it get so late so soon?
How did it get so late so soon?
08/07/2015
Rongtern Mansion
By M. Taha Effendi
(Verse Libre)
The front door of the mansion mysteriously creaks open,
I freeze.
Hoping to hear a welcoming voice,
But all I hear is the wailing of the cold wind,
The pitter-patter of rain outside,
And the roar of lightning,
The room reeks of damp, decayed wood and dusty furniture,
I enter.
The hall is dark,
I can only make out countless ornate mirrors glittering on the walls all around,
And a tiny candle that flickers on a table at the far end of the hall,
An old telephone sits beside it,
Squinting around nervously for any sign of life,
Groping through the darkness,
I reach the table,
An ornate frame is perched on the wall there,
An old man, balding, with a heavily creased face, firm jaws,
and blood shot eyes, bearing a somewhat sinister smile,
Looks back at me from it,
A strange macabre feeling suddenly engulfs me,
I pick up the cold receiver with a trembling hand,
holding it to my ear,
about to dial,
When suddenly with a flash of lightning,
I catch the smile of the old man in the portrait falter,
And hear the sobs of a little girl on the phone,
"H-h-h-hide me f-from d-d-daddy... H-hide m-me f-from d-daddy,"
Terrified, a cold shudder trickles down my spine,
fogging my mind and senses,
The phone slips from my grasp and hits the floor with a thud,
And instantly the echoes of the girl's sobs get louder,
They seem to be coming from behind a closed oak door a few steps away,
As I reluctantly make my way towards it,
The constant howl of the wind seems like an evil cackle,
I can't help but feel that someone is breathing down my neck.
I swallow a nervous whimper,
Finally I am at the door,
I turn the knob,
It is locked.
Just then I hear a floor board creak inside the room,
Confused, I crouch and peep through the keyhole,
I see nothing but darkness,
But I wait,
Perhaps my eye will adjust to the dark,
It does,
And what it beholds makes the very blood in my veins curdle,
From the other side of the keyhole was peeping,
A bloodshot eye...
Winner of contest:
"A Creepy, Scary Haunted House Poem, Please"
by
Constance - My Dear Heart
as not you with yarmulke
delivering yogurts past the age of curdle
what you asked from me a cuddle
as in a tent you phantom
I'll be drooling for thank you
your mistake
as many tests show will be a park ranger
to deliver needles clean the life of certain
as a choice and not sunday school
waiting in line every saturday for chicken
but the rest of the week peanut butter
to cajoled an heart and a pee
I wish I had a dick to tell you all
and if my dog take a leak on a fire hydrant
no thanks to you
my camp close to the loonies
as discharged not to clog the jail
I kept them quiet at night
with sing song a lullaby
and one two three may be a tree
get your broom to make it clean
Near our village lies Taal Bay
Where tides of adolescence curdle--
And quite often, the ripples mirror
The kind whispers and loud groans
From the blended flavors of youth’s thirst,
Hungering for its wild streams of independence
Amidst this need for balance between
Naiveté and inner freedom: then to allow
This growing child-maiden her exploration
Along ebbs of questioning old female norms :
Through my gazes into moonlit ripples
I begin discerning a wider view of choices,
which perhaps, the bamboo’s sway
or powdered sand grant a firm
yet gentle awareness of my response
To life’s new challenges.
Brian Strand's Contest 485
A new day perhaps, of immeasurable tin, sound of din
A hurricane noise, a thrall of riotous cuts, although thin
The blood-curdle choke of rage from before
Now purchased like plasma from the needle store
Go hump yourself, If you want my schtick, you vampire whore
You’ve had enough since the Garden, Lillith, you’ll not get more
Now the ratio between human, vampire, dragon and other dead
Has been cast with fair radiant echo against the nuclear thread
A shroud sewn with Alcubierre’s hand and Teller’s eye
Will re-write the laws of your time to die
Not forced by the forced prison of your local priest
Or enticed by Babylon to take part in it’s wicked feast
The work that was promised to Adam and re-framed unto Cain
To un-curse the valley, glen and land: to filter Acid from Rain
With thorns o- the rose coming loose from the Bush
And snakes running hither or thither in scintillate Rush
The Oracle of Satan found new charms to spread in perfect Cube
Could be the shape of Sound Maynard or Max’s Cubic Rube
The Time of Orwell Now and Jobs spelling Apple at his Side
And Sting writing programs for the Cops, whom along for the Ride
the Bladerunner checkin for humans among the technical horde
Huxley detected the separate spirit, lobotimized souls, Model T Fords
And Harrison checked again with electric sleep on the Brain
A tear for Summer, or a vision for Canticles, a wave almost Inane
With countless ages past since the Dust of Sumer lent
It’s hell-bound rasp of gutteral destruction spent
The awful wave of gas, a riotous nuclear blast
In the once Green land where sage grew fast
The dim spectre of time has given up the ghost
With markets bazar and material plenty, yet consider the cost
From Alabaster bone the Ocean’s a-shallow
The Mermaids remember the times that were fallow
Year upon year the bi-peds walked without aim or deed
That could count for fullness, even yet upon steed
Even in those ages of lore when upon horse they’d trot
Or with Gasoline chariot to the park like Mel Ot
None could account for the empty space of land
Or like Kieth Stone, bend down and till without turning into sand
The eidolons of time, immemorable: drooping, eternal clocks
An echo of murmurs, drogue and sorrow, indifferent as the rocks
Whom would not cry out, with refusal of price
None could garner their strength or bleed them twice
Our only source of water,
the spring lay to the west,
downhill from the house.
Its flow gurgled up
to form a creek which snaked
through a field toward the barn.
Cold spring water firmed butter,
and chilled the milk,
kept dry in tin buckets,
dropped underwater daily.
Our old sow would root, nose
under the fence, and head
on a straight path to the spring.
Mother hated that sow.
It took hours for the milky,
muddy water to run clear.
No milk for supper.
We wished for the milk
to curdle in her stomach.
A skip in my step and a smile as i jump
A tap on the shoulder in my throat forms a lump
Grin as it does and takes as it wants
Snatching and fondling in delight as it stuns
Fingers of insecurity it trails across thy heart
Nails of doubt dug deeper as the cracks she parts
Arms that embrace and curdle your darkest fears
A mouth that smirks at the taste of your tears
A tongue to lick the wounds inflicted by self
Eyes that watch as you become deprived of transcendent wealth
snarls as it lurks,it takes to break
Delights as a child with a home made chocolate cake
Pleading and begging you are brought to your knees
From her hardened heart you shall find no appease
Coldly your kicked and tossed to the floor
Broken and beaten to the depths of your core
Dragging your limbs now with a limp in your walk
You look up in anguish as she parts her lips to talk
Hello beloved i am your long lost friend
Don't you see i am setting a trend
I come when your happy to steal away your smile
I do it with grace,comfort and style
You look at me with disgust and see me as a curse
But oh my beauty its you who gives me the strength to make it all worse
My name is loneliness and i come from within
I am tied to you with insecurity string
You can banish me from the cracks in your heart
But you knew that before our long embrace you saw it from the start
All you have to do is stand up and fight
Lift up your head and take away my right
Oh loneliness i should have known it was you
As you stirred the couldren of my insecurity stew
Leave me now i release you from our depleting trance
To you oh happiness i dedicate my last dance