Best Gaped Poems
It started with one utterance
that grew into a shout.
That cry grew louder in his ear.
He could not get it out.
The bellowing prolonged itself,
and then one cry was two.
His frightened eyes searched faces on
the teeming avenue.
On the edge of reason then,
he gaped at strangers’ lips,
but mouths stayed shut and mocked the truth
of his apocalypse.
The cries that he was hearing came
a hundredfold or more,
a deafening cacophony,
an oceanic roar.
And nightmare revelations that
had brought this din in dreams
were now his actuality -
enwrapping him in screams.
The throng pressed on around a man
who crouched, with eyes half-dead.
And now inside a room he rocks
to screams inside his head.
Categories:
gaped, confusion, cry,
Form:
Quatrain
Furious wind from the north hisses louder,
banging against the gaped mouth of a sky, drenched…
Haggard, the night wheezes with quack
of birds waylaid; a time of unruly rainfall
crashing once more: and the moon grows bald,
groaning a jumble of cracked acoustics:
On and on, the roar of sleet
pierces through lush trees
in a noise that grates far into the dark horizon,
an energy fierce like a woman scorned.
How she blares a war amidst a company of men,
flowers, and all in one driven ride
that her wild thrill rasps zooms ---
until on ninth hour
a slow-motion of rhythm flows,
while she pauses to croon a mellow tune
as if... in final taps of a wail,
nothing ever happened.
For Shadow Hamilton:The Noise Contest
Written 3/9/2017
Categories:
gaped, howl, sound, wind,
Form:
Verse
Tears were rolling down his face, he told me.
I heard them in the sound of his sad voice.
Before today, we’d been so glad to know
my tumor was removed. We could rejoice!
Expecting radiation for six weeks,
I felt fantastic! Chemo I’d escaped.
Late test results came in. I heard with shock
the dread word “chemotherapy” and gaped.
I called my spouse. He could not help but cry.
I felt his tears as if they were my own.
He said I was too good to go through this.
His words will get me through. I’m not alone.
Written July 28 for the Three Stanzas- Three Only Contest of Broken Wings
Quatrain form with the rhyme on the second and fourth lines of each stanza.
Note: I am sure I am going to be ok. This chemo and radiation are all extra precautions to assure cancer does not return. I just don't want to go through it all, and the news the other day I would need the extra chemo was very unexpected! Thanks, my friends, who support me with your love and prayers. Thanks, Constance. Your special word was my inspiration.
Categories:
gaped, feelings, health, husband,
Form:
Quatrain
As scented air aroused my misty mind,
a shadow broke the early morning Sun,
aromas wafting from the morning’s grind,
assured the senses morning had begun.
I felt an airy presence from afar.
Unnerved, I sought some comfort in my joe
when then appeared this early morning star
with beauty that would set the dawn aglow.
She passed with nonchalance and without glance,
and as I gaped, she simply stared astray,
her exit, with a whim and fickle prance,
fanned arrogance that whisked my breath away.
I contemplated thoughts of giving chase
though in a haze I let her slip away,
but like the Sun, this path she may retrace
and destiny could pass again my way.
And as the morning’s essence ebbed and waned,
her image kept returning o’er again,
the vision twisted aimlessly in vain
as sunrise caused her beauty to transcend.
I finalized my mundane morning rite
then pondered how its remnants would unfold,
and knew… that I had seen the Morning’s Light
and hoped once more its beauty I’d behold.
Categories:
gaped, allusion, beauty, morning,
Form:
Rhyme
In meadow flowers, one June afternoon,
I lay beside a brook, and its soft sound
was lulling me to sleep, so very soon
I fell into a dream, where all around
me flowers bloomed so big they seemed like trees,
for I was a small fairy! Then I saw
two giant wings that fluttered in the breeze -
their hue so brilliant blue I gaped in awe.
The creature landed, and it let me slide
onto its back. Above the brook we flew.
How wonderful it was that I could ride
above the meadow into sky of blue.
I woke! The first thing that I saw was sky,
and then - like magic - a blue butterfly.
October 3, 2019
Writing Challenge, October - Butterfly- Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode
Categories:
gaped, butterfly, fantasy,
Form:
Sonnet
A short pleasant drive through the pathway
Between the impenetrable woodlands lying untamed -
Cradled by soft wind, the scenic lush foliage I gaped at
During my recent visit to my homeland
Enriched and cheered my dreary mind;
Fresh breeze, so pure, gently tousled my hair
Giving me a feel that right then I was
Heading towards a heavenly hamlet; the
Idyllic green cover was embellished with mangoes, enormous and
Jackfruits, huge. The flowering trees with vivid blooms formed a
Kaleidoscope of colours glinting in soft sunlight after a drizzle;
Lofty trees shaped a canopy of leaves, so artistic, and glued
My eyes to its pristine rustic charming beauty:
No wonder this land is called ‘God’s Own Country’ -
Of all the beautiful places, here is Nature at Her best!
Ponds, lakes and streams were fringed with long
Queues of coconut trees, some leaning over the lakes -
Reflecting and glistening in the water below;
Shh! The soft silvery clouds and the misty hills seemed
To be engaged in a cosy-chat - so dreamy and enchanting;
Upon the luxuriant land sprawled large spindly rubber trees -
Verdurous, lined up in orderly rows - so mystic - as if
Wishing to whisper a secret in my ears. Listening to
Xylophone music from my son’s mobile, so peaceful, my mind
Yearned to glance more at Her graceful face!...as the
Zig-zag road, untiring, unfurled before my eyes, with its twists and turns.
Date: 06/23/2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Categories:
gaped, nature,
Form:
Abecedarian
My flowers had not yet even bloomed,
But evil demons gaped at me,
Lust making their eyes sparkle
And saliva drooling from their lips,
Hungry,
For the shade that my garden
Could give to their scorching skin
Their thirst pushed me towards an abyss
Falling into which
I stopped living,
Existing as a mere puppet would,
Needing only my food and my sleep to sustain myself!
But the abyss loved me
To such an extent
That it rejected me back to the surface
And morphed into a man
With eyes so deep
That gazing into them while he cured me,
I felt like I was floating in the abyss itself!
Cured, I was taught to fly
And while flying,
The skies whispered to me
Of those same words that they had spoken to us
Eons ago, but, which evil demons would only
Care to pretend to laugh about, for,
Being what they are implies
Being protected, at all levels, physically and spiritually!
But the bells of time shall ring
The dues will have to be paid
Since I never wished for this experience with death,
I had been pushed into it!
And when those bells shall ring,
My poetry shall heal the world over,
And I shall swim in the cool waters of the abyss,
There where I felt like I was its ruling queen!
13th August 2022
For Contest This or That, Vol 13
Contest Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
gaped, strength,
Form:
Free verse
Urges ushered Est’bel out of her abode –
a cottage cobbled together from cobwebs and clapboard –
and she scuttled forth,
her nesty hair tousled
by a leaf-laced breeze
In her bony hands she clutched
dregs of a nightmeg broth
in a porcelain jar stoppered
by a coffinwood shard
Her bare feet stepped on thorny twigs
but she felt them not,
for her soles had been hardened
by countless treks across hot coals
washed up from stygian shoals
Leftward she turned,
meandering down the narrowing, twisting path,
where uprooted mandrake tendrils
clutched at her anorexic ankles,
while ravens pecked at her frayed follicles,
until she snatched a leaf
from a passing philodendron,
folding it into a tri-cornered hat
and plunking it atop her pate,
rakishly askew
Dewey sap from twisty-trunked trees
dripped onto the nape of her gnarly neck
and a raven on a nearby branch
cawed his amusement,
earning him her owlish scowl
She spied a row of rotting poppies
and plucked a bunch,
sticking them into a crevice of her hat,
then stepped onto a walkway of cracked shale slabs,
which shunned her footprints,
replacing them with snail streaks
to mark her passing
She made her way to a listing tombstone
atop a gnarled knoll encased in gelid moonbeams
and fringed by shushing sawgrass
She took a small vial of indigo glass
from beneath her shabby shawl
and pulled out a stopper made
from a finger bone of an unfaithful lover
whose pickled tongue hung from a
silver chain around her neck
She poured the contents of the vile vial
into the porcelain jar and
listened to the fizz.
It subsided into sloshes,
reminding her of the sounds
issuing from demented shells
snatched from the forlorn shores
of stygian shoals
She gaped at the sky
as an owl flew past the moon,
stirring the dark craters,
which broke up into swirling spirals,
sucking lunar beasts beneath the surface,
where they dissolved in the ceaselessly sliding sands
And Est’bel raised the jar to her lips
and drank a toast to the moon,
and awaited the enshadowed shades
drifting down the snail-slimed pathway,
propelled by a leaf-laced breeze
Categories:
gaped, magic, moon, night, woman,
Form:
Free verse
A girl called Lucy loved to trumpet lies
And idle gossip laced her lips with ease.
Tall tales tripped off her tongue to tantalise
Those twitching ears which reddened by degrees.
This filled her honest Mother with despair
‘You wash your mouth with soap’ she often cried.
Young Lucy shrugged it off and did not care -
To those who would do likewise, woe betide!
One day, when she’d amassed an eager crowd
Who circled round to hear the latest slur,
She stood there in the limelight, feeling proud,
When suddenly a fly buzzed near her ear.
How everybody gaped to see it dive
Right into Lucy’s mouth poised open wide,
Then heard her splutter, gasp and vainly strive
To cough it up - she choked and promptly died!
The moral of this tale is do not lie;
When tempted move your upper lip down south.
Then Lucy’s fate will surely pass you by,
Nor fly, nor lie invades a fastened mouth.
18.08.19
Categories:
gaped, death, insect,
Form:
Rhyme
Once upon a time...
Once upon a time, in France, a storyteller fella
Wrote of a girl named Cinderella,
Meant as a fairy tale romance.
Her daddy died when she was young, and she was forced to share his riches
With three monumental b****es,
A most unhappy circumstance.
For years her stepmom and stepsibs made her perform a menial's duty,
And as she blossomed into beauty,
They grew more hateful, mean, and cruel.
Each night they dined on fine cuisine and wore lace dresses with silk sashes,
While she wore rags begrimed with ashes,
And got just crusts of bread and gruel.
Then one day a herald from the king demanded entry
To the homes of landed gentry,
They were invited one and all.
It was the prince's eighteenth birthday, and the king and queen were harried
Because their son was not yet married.
Ergo, the reason for the ball.
The stepsisters primped and preened and wild excitement they exuded,
When Cindy asked to be included, they gaped at her as if appalled.
Stepmother sneered, "Look here, I'll show you!"
With self-righteous indignation,
"Your name's not on the invitation.
Just we elite are so installed."
So Cinderella went downstairs to seek some solace in the kitchen,
But 'stead of sittin' there and b****in', she started dancing with a broom.
She whirled and twirled around the floor,
Or else she'd stand there, gently swaying,
As if an orchestra was playing
Pretending they were bride and groom.
And then a flash, a crash of thunder, and to Cindy's stunned amazement,
There gliding through the kitchen casement,
A pudgy lady dressed in blue.
She said, "Hello, my dear, no fear, I'm here to grant your secret wishes,
I'll wave my wand and clear the dishes,
And make a princess out of you!"
She waved and tapped and flicked and zapped,
And what she seemed to make the air do
Was give her make-up, nails, and hair-do,
And then to make the look complete,
Out of those rags so soiled and worn and far too torn to drown a cat in,
A gown of gossamer and satin, and crystal slippers on her feet.
Without this timely intervention, Cindy's tale might have been tragic.
Could she have managed without magic,
And her dilemma be resolved?
But everybody knows what happened with a gourd and six white mice,
And how a smudgy scullery maid was made to clean up really nice,
When a fairy got involved.
To be continued...
Categories:
gaped, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
When a leprechaun tightly I caught,
I was hoping for gold in a pot.
But that trickster escaped.
At my hands I just gaped.
His wee britches were all that I got.
Categories:
gaped, ireland,
Form:
Limerick
T'was my foot that you grabbed when I fell,
fear-you seemed to dispel.
A drawing you drew to trigger a-new...
t'was my foot that you grabbed when I fell.
T'was my hand that you held when I shook,
a page was turned in the book.
The words that I caught from work of the thought,
t'was my hand that you held when I shook.
T'was my hair you caressed when I ached,
the warmth of your care how it shaped;
Eyes that had gaped from love that was draped...
t'was my hair you caressed when I ached.
T'was my lips that you missed when you kissed,
a moment in time in the mist.
You fell to the floor, I ran out the door...
t'was my lips that you missed when you kissed.
Categories:
gaped, humorous, i miss you,
Form:
Rhyme
Years have passed since i dreamt that night
Noises in my head, waking up to that sight
Overnight my city in desperate plight
Tragedies followed as the population began to fade
The strong wallowed, as the weak frayed
Mankind shown to be true, as their actions displayed
I found i was not alone, as others had escaped the curse
Their actions that i witnessed, man doing his worst
Abusing, taking advantage in their normal daily thirst
The ones who lost their eyes, never seen their end come
Even the deafened ones, never heard the sound of a gun
The muted ones just gaped, as they all tried to run
The fortunate ones had prayed, on the inflicted souls in strife
Targeting the weak, playing with their lives
The killings and the maiming in typical murderous rife
Eventually the fortunate, wanted more and more
They fought amongst themselves just like they did before
Everyday i look all around me, forever will i abhor
I walk our cities and towns, thinking what they used to be
The hustle and bustle of life, in the world of you and me
One day i will go to sleep, when i awake what will i see
The follow up too " It Will Happen Tomorrow "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-6.php
Categories:
gaped, angst, confusion, death, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Strutting down York Avenue,
Appearing in a hurry,
His face is beatific,
Showing not a drop of worry.
With one child in his hand grasp
And another at his chest,
He seems a modern father
But he stands out from the rest.
It isn’t for his man-bun,
Rather for the clothes he wears –
Not jeans or sweats or khakis,
For it’s leggings earning stares.
Today’s had printed donuts
Looking fattening and sweet,
While yesterday’s were swirled
With every color you might meet.
I wonder as his kids grow up
If they’ll think he looks cool
Or, as I perceived when others gaped,
More like a kingdom’s fool.
Categories:
gaped, dad,
Form:
Rhyme
Panic In the Vegetable Garden
By Elton Camp
The carrot turn from yellow to pale
“Danger!” it called out to the kale
The tomato gaped in great fear
“Caution broccoli, they’re here.”
Mushroom whispered to the squash,
“Beware for they’re here to nosh.”
Pumpkin felt of his hard shell
“If they touch me, I’ll yell.”
“Oh horrors!” said the peas
“How we hate such as these.”
Why did the veggies begin to shout?
Because vegans were roving about!
Categories:
gaped, humor,
Form:
Rhyme