Best Eviscerated Poems
Written: August 02, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
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In the slipshod cradle beneath the apple tree,
a bruised fruit folds ajar—
molten sweet sapidity pooling
through velvet skin.
Eviscerated grace, they say,
but I grasp the quiddity of life unmasked.
A burnt sienna kiss of aurora—
flesh undulating with fungal bloom,
wispy gossamer threads that stitch
the inevitable return to the earth.
It is not ruined.
It is a transformation:
a diaphanous ballet
between death and what dreams may grow.
We ogle brightness,
but rot is brighter still—iridescent with purpose,
alabaster spores pirouetting as sylphlike specters
on a sacred odyssey to placate
the starving soil.
It is seraphic.
It is a panacea.
It is quintessence made humble.
Rapture lies in this ineffable nexus—
decay whispers loud as a lullaby.
The rakish grubs maunder through
a velvet pyre of rind and memory,
and the loquacious beetle sermonizes
on endings as beginnings,
as though time had a gullet
And rot was its sweetest wine.
Call it grotesque.
Call it abhorrent.
But beauty—true, ineffable beauty—
wears many masks.
And in these nebulous throes of perishing,
I watch a face burnished by truth,
smiling with roots in its eyes.
Categories:
eviscerated, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
Written: November 24, 2024 for contest Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
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In a calyx of ambivalent dreams,
where shadows swirl as silken strands,
I slip through the surface,
a sailboat in a tide of thoughts,
where colors speak in whispers,
and sounds weave a tapestry
of guffaw and sighs.
I am an astronaut,
zipping into a cosmos of canorous clangor
past comets with names such as chimera
and planets blooming with a corpulent deluge
simmering under layers of desultory dust,
each a sun waiting
to ignite an encomium spark.
Footfalls on the ledge of splendor,
swirling in circles,
a kaleidoscope of moments —
jumping from the quicksilver
of a fleeting glance,
to the deep sinkhole of silence,
where time slows to the pulse of heart.
Here, on this canvas of perception,
the boundary of self dissolves,
melting into the esoteric ocean
and excruciatingly eviscerated thoughts
are squid jauntily joined by caring currents,
amber-colored fires dancing on the horizon,
unraveling secrets hidden in their stings.
I chase shadows,
those swift-painting phantoms,
a ghostly gap in gnarled grooves of life,
seeking sincerity in a swirl of sights —
the stillness of awareness,
longing wrapped in vibrant coils,
darkness stitched with fragile threads of light.
In stillness, I stroll.
feeling every pulse evolve into a quilt of colors.
tracing trails tracked by supple notions.
as the clock spins dizzy tales —
my pen touches the sky,
gathering glimpses in gradients of glides.
a jaunt laced with lingering layers.
charting caverns of concealed aspirations.
where wisdom blooms in wild gardens,
Inviting all intrepid inclined to intrude
the twinkling, tantalizing tones
of existence, endlessly entwining
every exhale an echoing essence.
of something that yearns.
to be liberated and let loose.
Categories:
eviscerated, analogy, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
The black widow weaves an intricate web
And from her silken thread she promises death,
Not to just other insects passing by
But to the male who cries ‘she betrays me, martyred by love’, then dies.
She eviscerated her love of all his blood,
Left his empty shell to decay and rot,
Surely this black widow on her heart has a black spot,
If she beckons you into her parlour
Then you are surely lost.
Categories:
eviscerated, betrayal, black love, death,
Form:
Free verse
“Objects of Affection”
Objects of affection
drop like white marbles
from the sky
we love to look
to our heaven
for all kinds
of angels
all’s fair in
love and war
when faith
and belief
in a stronger
unified existence
that type of love, denied
trust
walks out the door
along a fine sharp line
sucked into that endless place
where the black ball
is dropped,
compartmentalised
life interrupted
for the unheard
taken down
by the unnecessary
silent swift intervention,
interrogated, eviscerated,
true autopsy, denied
what is love
to the alienated
gone AWOL alien
true fabric
orchestrated
by the external
as something other,
superficial,
the internal, inconvenient,
briefly recognised
worthless feelings
buried deep, the complex
compartmentalised
non-copacetic;
by the artificial copacetic
written off blithely,
non-evolutionary
the revolution de-loused,
time spent of no importance,
touch and emotions
clinically extinct
love
unknown
life
unrecognised
of unknown origin
unidentified
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories:
eviscerated, muse, mystery,
Form:
Narrative
"The Winter's Lullaby"
Choking noble light held by the hands of Fate
As deceived Persephone enters Hades gate
The burning suns falling through the universe.
Despairing and alone not a coppers worth
A bitter cold blankets Gaia's tears in a frozen sea of glass
While the stupefied intoxicated serpent drowned with a laugh.
Undulating sands barricades into immovable glacier,
Infectious prison walls destroyed the strength of redeeming savior.
Chariot of the flame plunges into the water’s bed
Fate’s tepid scarlet scissor hands sever the music thread
Astaea’s darkened soaked mural melts with eternal dread
Seeing red, alluring sirens sang as the music bled
Unfathomable lamented shrieks surged as the music tore
Obsidian tributaries erodes the forbidden door
Eros scorned wound feeds the ravished horde of succubi
Remote hollow temple bell wailed the closing cry
Captured in the dance of loves and hates tempest cyclone
Drums of madness orchestrates into the perfect tone
The infernal flame explodes from the mouth of Tartarus
Driven oblivion crescendos for the pending chorus
The stentorian cracks of nefarious shots being fired
Frantically gasping for the final breath of faith hope and desire
Tragic petrified tears from soundless screams of the choir
Condemned whisper of the drum crucified on barbed wire
Cold candle rests under the gaze of the vastness
No kiss or love to awake the entombed princess
Crimson emaciated curtains descend upon the floor
Fathomless, eviscerated, veiled; the music is no more
Categories:
eviscerated, death, depression, heartbroken, lonely,
Form:
Paler than the hills I walk
I hear the bleat of sheep long still
and see the thistles of the Saltire’s home,
yet wear the weave of no clan’s name
The red of my discordant neck carries
the match of a thousand morning skies.
When shepherds take warning and
storms make wilful sport
And those same maelstroms
that play a dirge upon my soul.
twist my limbs like the elasticated
stretch of an eviscerated gut
So, let me taste this air of
bitter sweet remembrances,
and at last set forth toward
that brightest of lights
Categories:
eviscerated, history,
Form:
Free verse
Summits hypnotize,
Ardor, eviscerated,
Seeds defy the dirt.
Categories:
eviscerated, hope, loss,
Form:
Haiku
tear open the seal
thick folded papers land loud
eviscerated
like our forever, but how
soulmates aren’t supposed to end
9/18/16
Categories:
eviscerated, divorce, marriage, soulmate,
Form:
Tanka
I was reading Lakoff's story
of what he learned at Berkeley
about international relations,
when I found my RightBrain offering further nuance;
not to deny what is here,
but to add what is also here,
but not explicitly stated,
about regenerative ecopolitical health and safety.
"The 'rational' approach to foreign policy was governed by a set of conceptual metaphors,
taken as simple common sense,
as metaphors [of and for regenerative v degenerative systemic processes] often are.
As a special case of An Institution
is a[n Organic-Holistic-Interdependent] Person,
there was A Nation is a[n Organic-Multiculturing] Person."
"In addition,
a common metaphor for rationality is used,
namely,
Rationality is the Maximization of Self [as organic subsystemic part of MultiReGenerative Other]-Interest (or 'utility' [as health-wealth fertility]),
which entails that it is 'irrational' [and unhealthy] to act against one's self-[intergenerational WinWin multicultural]interest[s].
These two metaphors are then combined to yield:
A [Healthy, Happy, Secure] Nation is a Rational [Organic TransReGenerational Polypathic] Actor[ess]."
"...we get as an entailment
the central thesis of the [organic] rational [trans-regenerational evolutionary] actor model
in international [interfamilial, intertribal, interspecies] relations:
Every [healthy] nation
acts [bicameral] rationally
to maximize its [health-wealth] military [Yang] strength [prosperity],
economic[-ecological hybrid] health [and happiness, with long-term defense of safety],
and political [cooperative polypathic] influence."
"Rationality,
on this conception,
is taken as
[discontinuous, deductive-only, reified, either-or] universal
and occurring at the [technology, tool, framing, modeling] level
of the
[organic, living,
matriarch nurturing,
ego/eco-loving,
bicamerally mature-evolving] state."
I feel so eviscerated.
Get over it.
Both-and;
not either-or.
You still got all your parts,
just more integratively co-aligned.
Yes, ma'am!
Who got out of bed on the wrong side today?
Don't even try it.
I'm going back to my "Political Mind" without you.
Doubtful.
And, if possible, dangerous.
You really aren't going to let me have the last word today are you?
I thought I was your last word,
your everything.
Categories:
eviscerated, health, humanity, humor, power,
Form:
Political Verse
In the void lurks a titan.
The father of the gods themselves.
Though by now he wishes that he was not.
But the selfish titan lord Kronos,
The father of the Olympians named Saturn,
Must want to reclaim the life that he poured into his children.
As he stands there,
Crouched in the darkness,
The only thing that one can see
Is that among the titans,
Even the king has no honor.
One can also see the visage of Saturn himself.
In his mighty but frail old hands
He holds an eviscerated lump of his own flesh
Pouring out his own blood,
A son of a titan,
A god of Olympus,
Made a meal by the one who gave him life.
As this lord of Olympus,
Laid low by a bout of cannibalistic hunger,
Dwarfs a full-grown human being,
The titan that feasted upon him was larger by far,
As an adult man would be to a small child.
But on his massive frame he wears no kingly robes;
Only the pale, rotted flesh of a beast who has spent days
Consuming his own children.
His head wears not a crown,
But a face so animalistic that "face" does not describe it,
So vile that the lowest of animals would object to it being called animalistic.
His sunken eyes
Are a pair of eyes that are windows to a vacant soul.
From his red-stained mouth a godly entrail hangs,
And the same mouth is opened yet again
To bite again into the godly flesh
That he has now come to enjoy.
The dark, rotted mouth
Of a titan who has devoured his own son.
Categories:
eviscerated, art, evil, father, father
Form:
Ekphrasis
THE TOLLING BELLS OF INJUSTICE
Today
injustice runs wild
where liberty once bloomed
sweet flowers of liberty.
Today
rogue life hawkers
like famished vampires
roam child filled streets
seeking desserts of red velvet
blood of sable fruit
to satisfy their fascistic appetite.
Today
we march to the sound
of the death bells of justice---
oblivious that once tolled
it cannot be undone:
Today
another strange fruit
has been nipped in the bud;
Today
the tongue
of the freedom bell
has been eviscerated.
Categories:
eviscerated, allegory, analogy, black african
Form:
Prose Poetry
A never-locked door shut me out,
Forever, pounding, passion pleading.
I was a forsaken, eviscerated sprout.
If I hadn't spied the beast ... kneading
Her hands, her arms, her softened mouth.
I ran madly, logic and sense relinquished.
If I hadn't killed the beast -- I must shout:
"It was my best friend that I extinguished!"
Categories:
eviscerated, anger, emotions, feelings, friendship,
Form:
Quatrain
Avian Compassion
Revolting as the world can be
Another war another drought
No food no shelter empty shells
Displacement dire dereliction
Oblivious flies on broken skin
Macario the blessed one awaits
Knowing that there is no place
In agony has given up on life
No dreams no destiny just
Desert demise emaciated
‘Nothing’ forgotten cast aside
Eviscerated vulture fare the bird
Shares a mutilated random carcass
So much for human acts of kindness
28th January 2017
Categories:
eviscerated, horror, humanity,
Form:
Acrostic
I was adopted . . .
one morning in the mists of yesteryear
when the sun glimpsed over the pallid shone house
next to the abode of my mother and my father
on came a harbinger of desolation. . .
I died that day though I knew it not,
nor was I to understand,
comprehend
this death for many winters past and fallen to the way side.
I was five summers new,
five winters older . . .
I was born Patrick . . .
I was to have my name usurped
by those wretched things called Free and land
and this is all I have to say about them . . .
Therein lies the beginnings of my cursed life as it was to become,
and thereto
you have the birth of my coined out naming of Mishiimin (apple).
I was raised by whites,
in a white town,
had white friends, white schooling,
white church propaganda indoctrination,
and there under the unseen
but felt
fist of white society
was I to be remade into . .
apple.
My dreams were white,
my legends white,
my desires always for white,
my voice spoke and bled white,
my body was red,
my face red,
my hair red,
my past long forgotten,
lost,
ripped,
shredded,
. . .
torn from my heart,
my mind,
and thus eviscerated from my soul was red
and long thereafter
did this one Miskó Ki'zis (Red Sun) bleed and bleed
until
this screaming throat was heard no more,
nay
not even from my own lips,
my own ears
my screaming was silent. . .
And gone one morning did the red from my people slip away,
slip away till all was vanished leaving all this shell behind. . .
one barely breathed two legged apple.
So it was in hell,
I found my shattered soul,
splintered mind and ravaged heart
and there in the bells tolling of sorrows raked across all there I did see, found I,
of all things,
in hell,
that abyssal helix of despair dredged was . . .
this one sighted a glimmering whisper of hope . . .
It was in hell I learned to breathe,
it was in hell I learned to live,
it was in hell that I was remade into all that I am now,
will be,
ever aspire. . .
and never once did I dream. . .
In the city of desolation
I became one
all over once more as I was born to be
many empty nights of winter past;
from seven shattered corpses
I found
my way back into the whole of one . . .
Categories:
eviscerated, life, native american, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
THROUGH THE STORM...
Strange fruits no longer hang
from trees; they’re boxed and stored:
seeds left behind lie rotting in blood soaked streets.
Yet we have overcome the poverty of spirit
and still march in solidarity with a world imbued
with the blankets of fear and bleak confusion of purpose.
Today, the circadian rhythms of time weave us together
breaking bartered bleak silence of moral purpose
eviscerated by deceit: crusades and jihads are not the lessons
of the Shamans, Gandhi, Martin and Malcolm (Imam); nor what the Dali
and Pope would wish upon the human race. No! Let's not be victims
of the acid of despair; neither of the venom of those who say they don’t care:
Rest assured Brothers and Sister of the world, the time of martyrs
will not be bastardized; the blooded juice of strange fruits
will not be comprised; nor their seeds eradicated.
While sitting, standing, shouting and marching
along the river banks of history, there's no dam of injustice
the blood flowing waters of liberty cannot and will not overcome.
Though our feet be tired and our souls be weary,
let the world continue the prophet's march...marching
through the howling winds of pain---the jostling storms
of adversity...our faith stamping out the whirlwind of despair;
our bruised hearts stirring up warm breezes of spiraling hope:
nourishing bleeding wombs of peace, love and unity.
Categories:
eviscerated, faith, hope, peace, visionary,
Form:
Prose Poetry