Best Ferrous Poems


Premium Member When The Bed Burns

Tongues of solar flare  writhe  in combat kiss
     —flame-throwers unleashed
iron words  h a m m e r e d  in fire   
      ferrous words melt-morph into heart-welts 
  once under skin
               hear the fevered air burn with cheers;  
                
   c a c k l e s  of  c r a c k l e s  and  h  -i  -s  -s -s

bellies of tears full of fire; fire feeds on gasoline tears
  
     fire-eaters’ —bellies full of flames
               turn inside-out; fire-breathers shape-shift
      from love doves to squawk hawks

bonfire of marital bliss consumed by wildfire
desolation burns holes in lacy  i  n* t  i* m  a* c  y

  ashes 
              fall 
                   from 
                         s o l o     
                                   cigarettes       
  . . . nuclear winter in summer

t h r o a t s  of songbirds   c h a r r e d    

     .  .   . silence

follows blaring —w  h  o  o  s  h— of serpent fire
      
         purification in cremation of all OratiOn sound

     liability  and  liberation
animate to dissipate in snaky smoke of HeLL-wraiths

apathy clouds form   they rain on red heat
       smother a smolder       mother a cease fire
  ember-ice;  scalds    freezes     t–h–a–w–s
whets flesh   — and wets fire extinguished flower bed

ashes laid down  
    —passion’s quiet confetti  paves a path—
                          
                          w. a. i. t. s      

— s l e e p w a l k s                

                                      … d  r  e  a  m  s

A Rural Station

A former place this, a patch where roots rattle,
where stubble has a ferrous frizzle.
A long truncated railroad stop
humming still within a surrogate reality.
As dry voices on the wind, they return
- the homesteaders and journeymen,
the harnessed horses.
Pants' cuffs carry kernels
long planted elsewhere.
Caps, coats, and carts
employed again by the magnetic
echos of an iron labor.
The brown weeds are talkative.
Brown boots seem to shuffle.
A hollow clock clacks,
its guts a nest for ticking birds.
Dandelions anticipate
a faraway flight,
A mid-day heat 
thrums fragmented rails.
The station seems almost ready
to receive
as if its world
had not disembarked forever.

Ultratechnologycal God

Honoring the body
lets adore an ultratechnologycal god
a cold, swift and complex one
whom every morning
we will serve humble
glittering its “on” button
a  god  to whom we will caress
the polar chips
to cool our inefficiency
caused by emotions
love   hate   compassion  tenderness

Ultratechnogical god !
the  soul reflected on the mirror of your ice
shrinks tiny
while you grow
while start entering the drawer
of the museum of times
the poets   philosophers  psychologists
the arts  the irrental
to be visited
like collection objects
strange insects
incomprehensible  unnecessary
in the economic machinery

Ultratechnological god !
the night has arrived !
with panic lets turn off your button
we admire your rest in total death
but to us are left the dreams
that shout from their  ferrous cell
that there was once a feeling
a living  a loving
a being before having
a sharing
total and profound that was real
but is now part of the mnemic hologram


The Magic Bed

when another (anointed as lady lucky) 
 resident renter bequeathed her bed  
prior to that good samaritan deed thyself and spouse 
   slept on the floor like dogs dead
tired from another day acclimatizing ourselves, 
   especially when tummies got well fed
and grudging adjustment per lying supine upon the carpet 
   did upon arising found aches and pains from head
to toes, yet financial shortcomings disallowed this Jed 
eye wannabe to defer attending domestic chores, 
   cuz ma whole body felt like a Led
Zeppelin, and matter of fact oft times, 
   thy body electric,     
   though lacked no evidence of disease NED
for short, I near felt a need to relearn basic motor skills, 
   gingerly, and eagerly reached for 
   performance enhancing drug i.e. PED
which coded identification 
   exemplified the a rich color of red
this (and other) prescription medication 
   (about a half dozen total found me to sleep akin to a Ted
dee bear, many instances of snoring 
   thine wife claimed emanated – 
   probably no more than when we wed

if memory serves me correctly 
   twenty plus years a husband aye attest
and find peace of body, mind and spirit 
   most exuberant and best
cherished, when hen pecking wife (yup, this husband 
   got pecking, pock, puck size marks 
   to vouchsafe his sworn statement) 
   some visible on my slightly flabby and hairless chest
and if traced with a ball point pen, 
   the shape loosely resembles mount Everest
with evidence of what appears to be erosion, 
   but actually evidence of wifely cannibalism – 
   viz zit on par as with an unwanted guest
which at first found this pop (sic) hull 
   averse to share the same firm mattress lest
she arise like a flesh eating zombie 
   during the wee hours of the morning and taking nest
ling to another level, whereby teeth 
   and scratch marks sure testament asper a pest 
stiff ferrous mate, this husband would sooner bid adieu, 
   letting fate guide  terrestrial quest
that might incorporate undergoing 
   the electric kool aid acid test
perhaps buffeting this corporeal essence north west
or maybe the unforeseen sojourn 
   would spirit thyself to a distant alien nation
one where each day of soundness of mental, physical 
   and spiritual growth will be reason enough 
   to celebrate with élan and zest.

An Overabundance of Words - An Add Anthem

Entice the essence of the word 
A lexicon of value heard 
A luxury of words astute 
With salutation and salute 

Inside this circle, only squares 
And children point with double dares 
A solo singer comes in pairs 
While stepping down to climb the stairs 

I'm sending letters without stamp 
A street light stands without a lamp; 
Deduct the darkness from my bill 
My empty tank too full to fill 

A centimeter is no inch 
Before the punch it's time to flinch 
A baker's dozen has thirteen 
And what you saw you've never seen 

When I get home I've gone away 
I work too hard when I'm at play 
Tomorrow is my yesterday 
My ferrous feet are made of clay 

I win the race when I have lost 
Find out the price but not the cost 
My brand new plane is highway bound 
Square holes I own are in the round 

I guess I've got a problem here 
I ask for wine and got a beer 
I know the words but cannot write 
I have my eyes but have no sight 

I think it's time to go to bed 
But when I do I'm getting up 
I did not say what I just said 
So pour my saucer in my cup

A Poem Is Brewing...

Stolid, terse
Ferrous verse

Raw, crude
Pressing lewd

Fiery, rage
Warring sage

Wild, free
As the open sea

Clever, deft
Mindful theft

Longing, attentive
Yet pensive


Rosa Canina

Of Radiance
Red fire and blaze, locks of shining scarlet
Emerald intrigue, gems of such precocity
Soft half-moons upon a perfect helix, temptatious
And a helm so bright, so sweet, so tenatious

Of Pleasure
Anticipation weakening me, I find myself helpless
The gates open and the hounds are upon the fox
The world peels away and there is nothing to remember
All wits lost about me, lost to the slow burn

Of Pain
And yet this primal heat cannot melt my ferrous hold
As I clamor about in this days lap
My abysmal core is unwilling, entrenched and stolid
It will not be moved behind the furrows of love

And so I can offer myself as nothing more than the Rosa Canina
The heights of pleasure entangled with the depths of pain


Symbolism:
According to Victorian Floriology, the Rosa Canina or Dog Rose has the meaning of "pleasure 
and pain" (felt at the same time).

The Pain of the World

Saša Milivojev

WELTSCHMERZ ("WORLD PAIN") - THE PAIN OF THE WORLD



In this century withal
Rivers of blood still flow
Bombs echo
Children are being killed
Heads are being severed
Millions are starving
Diseases are devouring
And you are singing

The gallows are trembling
In the valley of the fallen
In the salty tears
With our putrescent sores
We fall prey to the crows

Our festering entrails
For the starving wolves
 
A shattered house
Little boy is weeping
Over the body of his Father
That forever now is sleeping

Schools Temples and bridges bleeding
bloodstained wedding guests are screaming

Little white coffins
Maternal howls
Above Uranus
Hear the painful growls
Delirious poets are prattling
And not a word are you uttering

They blinded you
When they raped your daughter
Strangled ‘er with the wire
They abducted your brothers
Tortured in the cellar
Shattered their fingers
With ferrous clubs
With a saw agape their skulls
Their legs wagons lacerated
Their limbs with machete dissected
Flayed the skin of their backs
Dumpers of corpses
Bulldozers to the grave consigned
Roads run over their bones in cement confined
Bodies filled the bottomless well over the brim
Come closer
Look within
The infinite darkness of the abyss
To hear the silence of the universe

A spark is glistening in an innocent eye
Children are helplessly falling to the dust
Venomous saliva dripping from their mouth
As their rosy intumescent faces bust

In their closing prayer
Reverends to a cross immured
Laughing at the stake they burned
 
Tender ivory cherubs
Flew away like a flock of birds

Rip my heart out from my chest
As I am unsleeping
May your golden ship catch wind away from shore
To raise your glass of blood once more
As you feast your eyes in silence

 


Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska

visit: www.sasamilivojev.com

Premium Member Silent Anonymity

Who can view me behind the fence ferrous! 
Those infiltrating eyes bear me desirous! 
Unveiling what was previously hidden. 
Keeping this same watcher has striven.
 
I figure you should say, "What's in plain view!" 
Penny for your ideas as they decay in a dark row. 
Truth is a precursor to the hotly slated freedom. 
The spilling from torn gum is giving a storm!

Am I a true enchanter worthy of notice? 
I feel you crying, so please, let me focus. 
I never set up in front of an audience.
I starve to escape the irritating sequence. 

But does it work to retain me from leaving? 
This clutter adds to the overall styling. 
Do they have any considerable difference?
Do I cave in, or do I dazzle with my openness?

What has me scared! How am I striving to hide? 
None, however, can bear reality inside. 
After the Inquest, I cast the net vast and bleak. 
Induce them all to cave up the skill to peek!



Written: October 3, 2021
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Iron Clad (Part 1)

A young man eager with intentions but shy at heart
The sun had nearly dried his soul, yet he held
And her violent sickness still lingered in the darkness
He dwelled quietly in the basement under warm blankets
Alone apparent in the empty evenings pining for everything

And then a jerk, hard and firm, like a helpful noose
To the crucible of command, burning over his men
His voice strained in the dust and drought
As the sun once again flailed fat from his flanks
A ripe piglet for the blades of men, a hard path
 
The red ran out of the rose, and much for misery
No more simple smiles, just pain and pressure
His skin began to blister, there was nothing left to do
Late one night he gave in and the shell began to form
Wrought iron, his soul would forever be tempered

Harder it grew, though he wished to remain supple
There was no choice, no option, and then the return
A gap in guard but then a new blaze on the horizon
No rest, no hope, no more candles, just more iron
Complete armor for the onslaught, just to survive

But with that iron, with that protection came a darkness
Ferrous parts drew out from the air an ill corrosion
It grew and grew on the outer shell, but he could not see.
Another ally? They would not mistake his kindness
This darkness would speak for him, speak his piece

No need for love or selflessness, no need for others
Just his own needs, no one else matters, only him
The darkness spoke volumes and he relented
"Take what you want, the heck with the rest, they are weak"
And he allowed it, he indulged it, he became It

Premium Member Aureate Dreams


Flood of anonymous agony 
inundates the debris of hope, 
weed-webbed wasteland
of receding reverie
erodes in delirium  
within turbulent essence,
wreckage of life piles up,
            unlived,
transforms rapture garden 
into winter badland 
of foreboding discontent,     
            perceived.
 
Future meadow waits 
to be sauntered
            sanguine,
invents fantasy alchemy,
making magical gold
from ferrous aspirations,                            
gilding rusted crust 
of weathering present,
           metamorphosed,
marigold ecstasy blooms 
in the Midas-touched mind,
           mesmerized.
 
Wrapped by golden rays 
of garnet sun,
setting sublime  
beyond the content ocean,
entranced mind rolls
in twilight zone 
on sapphire life waves,
            broken, 
yearning psyche is drawn 
within the anguish trough,   
crashes on existential shore, 
shaped by the shadow 
of pearlescent past,
           petrified
in the collapsed sandcastle  
on the beleaguered beach
of the stilled time,
enfolding the blanched grains
of aureate dreams,
          d i s i n t e g r a t e d…..

Premium Member I Saw A Woman Emerge From A Shadow

I saw a woman emerge from a shadow
   With a sly demeanor and look about.
Her sequined dress was aglow.
   She didn't know I was also out.

I watched her remove a silver shoe
   And stick her foot into the mire -
One of the darkest ferrous blue -
   As if testing the temperature.

Her dress was even more brilliant -
   After a countenance of approval -
When she crossed the bleak horizon -
   Careful not to soak her lunar veil.

Premium Member Acme

Written: July 5th 2024 For Edward Ibah contest

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We didn't wish to climb afar and face rattlesnakes. 
Sanguine torrents cling to an impact for life's sake.
A ferrous soul gulps to be coveted as I decry.
Pearl Rivulets will smile if my name arises after I die. 

Horrific epiphany may I be an independent man?
Having the charm of a heart to incite a warm span.
How could I escape the cryptic cenotaph misery?
And how my life can brim vermilion vesication jittery.

Escorting as a scarlet orb underneath the surface?
A rebellious breach of nectar threatens my life.
That elevated me from Venus thrall to strife.
Yet the battle was doomed to fail furnace.

O bestow upon me a heart of gold.
Through the tangled web of stings, withhold
And relieve the pollen pain that keeps me down.
Raising the radius of a field by slowing the iris crown.

I have a jar of venom at Fastigium or Acme.
Pulchritude lips fall on a mirror in front of her.
Etching her jailed irade within a tenebrous lair.
I can't bear her veil of solipsism to drag me.

My feral nature shatters reality into a kaleidoscope.
None will offer a free zenith or a thrilling scry scope.
I will be driven into styx abyss if I sit and dream.
Rage will ruin me as soft linen on the insane seam.

Ferrous flavor fetches my soul into a frightful scoff.
My zenith is over; I am ready for an elf metamorph.
My lost spirit is drifting away in the maelstrom.
After pure bliss, it's time to escape this chthonic dorm.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

I Heard Tell


Rumors flew
faster than kindling lit 
Pieces of half-truth and falsehood,
pure self-interest mixed
Vex message sent ashore by a ghost face snitch

I heard tell of some bad news,
some good ol’ boys
spreading the combustible fear colorfully

Saying hide the woman and the children;
there some killing coming,
riding eagle wing swiftly
on a Pegasus breeze
Manifest Styx myth is a Valkyrie spiked crown destiny

I heard tell of the blood money whispers,
J.I.’s lurking everywhere — 
Tarnished silver coins flipping,
breath mint loyalty tossed in the air

Saying cotton-picking treachery was found:
Nappy heads 
planning evil behind the 
blacksmith shed

Wanted posters screaming:
Traitor tracks in the water; 
ivory smiles full of ebony guile, 
feet flying monkeys with organ grinder ears 
It’s the itchy trigger finger witching hour,
so be an info war/lock em up Volunteer

I heard tell of some really bad news,
some good ol’ boys
fanning the flaming fear colorfully

Saying stately, the dyed cloth they were burning
was the Stars and Stripes of unity
All the rebel owners of skin property 
was falsetto singing discord harmony: 
Ferrous ink bars of invisible chain captivity

I heard tell,
the flagship song they were singing
was “Capture and No Release”

50 Shades 0f Blood

1..A rusty door-nail leaks a drying crust.
2..The taint of copper pennies.
3.Salt licking the scars of the unhealed.
4..A sunset burning dry corn.
5.Eyes bruised by anger.
6.Lips cut by stinging words.
7.Money burning holes in red letter days.
8.A fledglings mouth bleeding hunger.
9.The abrasions of fiery passions.
10.The plasma of inflamed desires.
11. Poinsettia’s in a snow storm.
12. Droplets of deep regret.
13. Squashed cherries, red berries, and ladybugs.
14. Clawing finger-nails.
15. A surgeons restless dreams.
16. Iron oxide in ferrous rocks.
17. A bull, a matador, and a slashing fear.
18. The breath of a bucking bronco.
19. Poppies thriving on a battlefield..
20. The face-paint of warriors
21. The face paint of the murdered.
22. The skull stomping feet of Kali.
23. Daily pinpricks.
24. A wet dagger in the dark.
25. Prints in a crime scene.
26. The blushed snorts of a wounded deer.
27. The prayers of a sorcerer.
28. Hands washing away guilt.
29. The chaotic splatter of magic.
30. A thought tied to revenge.
31. The spurts of feeding frenzies.
32. Gills caught in unbreathable air.
33. The dark secrets of vino veritas.
34. Rubies bathed by candle light.
35. An aroused areola and nipple.
36. The pulse of a ********.
37. Sandstone at sunset.
38. The nightshade luster of tomato skins.
39. A bad moon rising.
40. The froth and suds of a punctured lung.
41. The tears of a Sufi poem.
42. Menstrual flow in the time of the moon.
43. The eyes of a night hunting cats.
44. A mime artists poking a tongue.
45. The lining of a dictators coffin.
46. The simmering heat of fevers.
47. Reflections in a sleepless eye.
48. The body heat of love.
49. Birth and the open womb.
50. The end and beginning of all that live.

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