Best Gouged Poems


Premium Member The Carcass

The shell remains
picked clean by hungry vultures
ravenous with greed.
Gouged-out eyes
now bare hollow sockets
vacant in their stare.
Morsels of choice parts 
deftly stripped or torn away—
and gutted vitals, furtively devoured,
have filled the wanton needs 
of scavengers who shared the feast. 
The carcass rests 
flat on bony frame
supported once by plump, round legs 
on which it mightily ran.
There it lies—
a brittle, empty shell—
the poor abandoned Chevy 
on the Harlem River Drive.


Sandra M. Haight


~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Bring To Life
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 04/14/2018

~3rd Place~ 
Contest: East Jesus 
Sponsor: Roy Jerden 
Judged: 01/02/2015
 
Note: Inspired by my many trips years ago in the late 70s, to visit my father in a hospital there.  I would see so many abandoned cars lined up as 'empty shell carcasses' along the Harlem River Drive in New York City.
Categories: gouged, imagery, urban,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Oh Baneful Yellow Moon

Oh baneful yellow Moon in fullest rounded sphere,
Bright as Summers Buttercups in abundant yield,
Coldly riveted upon Winters beaten, thin silvered panels;
Thereof: By ye mighty hammer doth great thoth wield!

For what fearful trowel gouged out thine far flung valleys
Whilst piling high upon yon monstrous heights?
Wherest, scattering the bare pebbles, a ghostly sower 
Coursing across vast cratered plains under Selenian moonlights.

Here once didst thou swelling tides ever invade long vanished shores
Dragged upon by some dwindling, exploded, far distant star;
An atmosphere girdling, warming and nurturing  -
Torn from this barren rock and cast way out afar!

Eternally ostracized and deviled, adorned in black swirling robes;
Drifting angular grains heaped - raked by hot solar winds;
Your desolate kingdoms lit in all seasons under heavenly lanterns;
Worshiped and foully cursed upon: for any amount - and all manner of sins.

And ere did erstwhile lovers that ever come forth on bended knee,
To traverse the pale beams that twist about the crooked stiles,
Pledge well intended oaths beneath high, impossible windows:
Their grandly draped balconies and balustrades bathed in luminosities wiles.

When across the recorded centuries of histories misted-veiled years,
from the quill of the old sage, from the high lilt of the bard,
Your pensive countenance disaffected and of a cheerless tilt -
Hanging upon sharply crested vestiges of reckless disregard!
Categories: gouged, moon,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Buried In Woods On a Snowy Evening

BURIED IN WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING (With apologies to Robert Frost)
Whose woods these are, mox nix to me,
both dead and buried, she must be,
to bother me, not one more time,
but sleep forever; endlessly.

Though thought of still, as perfect crime,
(it made my life a downhill climb,)
tis none the less, I must admit,
the joy of me, all of the time.

And smile I must, with thought of it,
the slicing of her throat a bit,
and struggling, oh! how she tried!
whilst I enjoyed her dying fit.

Her eyes now crossed, as if she spied,
her life and death on either side,
and so I gouged them both in fun,
for every time she ever lied!

She begged for mercy--there was none!
Her legs were dead, she couldn't run,
and with her throat cut, couldn't cry,
nor could I, whilst I had such fun!

Her pleas are still my lullaby,
I've lots of time to wonder why,
and years to go before I die.
and years to go before I die.
       by  © ron arbuthnot
© Vee Bdosa  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gouged, appreciation, art, assonance, death,
Form: Lyric

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Delilah's Story- Part Ii

PLEASE DO NOT READ PART II BEFORE YOU HAVE READ PART I! THANK YOU! :)

She had been a modest woman
Had so desired a family
But that was all in the past now
And Samson was no guarantee

In the morning he would leave her
With his voice playing in her mind
No, she needed to secure life
“Delilah, don’t you be so blind!”

In the morning she stood beside him
Dressed in seductive finery
In the other room they waited
To see if Samson was history

“Samson, your enemies surround you”
He just smiled and patted the bed
“Come, let me take you to heaven”
Then he reached up and touched his head

Would she ever forget that moment
When he gave her a betrayed look
Tears did slip down as they bound him
Her man and all her dreams they took

She heard that he had been blinded
They had gouged out her man’s green eyes
All the money that she had gained
Was tainted red with crimson lies

There was a great celebration
Through her veil she saw Samson there
No longer lion but a lamb
All she could do was gawk and stare

They placed him in between pillars
Of the temple to their “strong” god
They kicked and spat and they hit him
They treated him worse than a dog

She rushed passed them in a minute
“It’s Delilah,” murmured the crowd
For her flowing veil had fallen 
How she wished now it were her shroud

She gently touched his haggard face
And he smiled a sad knowing smile
“Your beauty I can’t see, my love
But I’ve waited for you all this while.”

She sobbed, “I tried to buy you back
With much more money than they gave 
I’m sorry, dearly beloved
Please, be strong now and do be brave.”

“Leave me now,” was his coarse command
“My kind God will still set me free
I’ll bring this place down on their heads
Delilah, please just let me be.”

“My lover….my eternal love”
On her breasts she now lay his head
“Pull down this building forever
I’ll lie with you in our death bed”

How the story ends is well known
Samson was given strength once more
That strength stolen by a woman
Delilah, whom his did adore!

Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories: gouged, death, devotion, passion, me,
Form: Epic

Of a Virgin God

Partly clad
full moon
was taking a bath on hills.
Trees were waiting
for the curtains to rise.

Scented stars would make
giant scars on the clouds,
I would make peace with the sky.
Lids of human greed were laden
with golden dust, I was hoisting the skull.

Of a virgin god who did not
want to live for the blotched up creation.
The decline was obvious. Truth 
had refused to climb
on the sky-blue, salted peaks of springs.

Body had arrived,
mourners quietly wailing.
Gouged eyes could not decipher
the script on the halved pyramid.
Sun was sucking the clay.


 
SATISH VERMA
Categories: gouged, death, food, life, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Boyhood

Boys carry their snow sleds
         up, up
                  to the highest peak
                               scaling risk

their voices pitched
          chattering noise of expectation
          frozen giddiness on snow packed hills
boys belly flop onto plastic sleighs

bubble-headed jauntiness launches them
           lunging down, down
bewildering "swish" of speed
           smashing white drifts
                              projectiles scattered
boys tossed in snowbanks like pizza dough spinning
                                                 baked together in joy
pushing the balance of extreme

runs repeated
         brash, blunt, bold
                                epic span of freedom
ignoring downfalls from ill timed moves
                                in a lost sense of direction

gleefully tired
                snow flecked
                boys wheeze the icy air
                          make their way home
their talk clotted with bravado
beneath it, the unspoken promise to never tire
                                                                 of boyhood

in twilight, the slopes gleam
                    gouged by sled marks
                    that clear a path for growth
                    targeted direction

and if boys fall from the path
                      are there souls
                                      who'll notice?

when ruts threaten
when sleds teeter
                      in unruly spaces




Poem composed February 2, 2022
Categories: gouged, addiction, boy, children, confidence,
Form: Free verse


Someone To Care

mossy vines served as camourflage
on a decaying  gravestone, in old graveyard,
time not revealed the names on that stone,
was this the one for which I had been searching hard.

been looking back in history at my family tree
some I have found, was a pleasure to see
names of old folks that imaged me,
I am what I am, because of history.

this one dirty and unkempt, hidden away, seemed no one cared,
two names are gouged out of the stone
as though their life they hadn’t shared.....yet
someone had cared when their life was done.

what crime had they committed to be left alone,
had they gone against family rights and wrongs
looking up the names in history, it is shown
falling in love, to each other belonged

a hindu and a muslim so much in love
they married yet had to hide this fact,
shamed, their family no longer proud of,
died together in a suicidal act.

no one to care for their blessed names
on this gravestone, covered in vine,
who are the guilty ones who bares this blame,
caring in future for this plot, will be mine.

Contest : camourflage me a poem

Theme used :mossy vines served as camourflage
                    on a decaying  gravestone, in old graveyard,


This poem to be entered in Take the dagger from my heart, please Contest


penned  4 August 2016
"
someone to care  	N/A 	
Contest Camouflage Me A Poem 
Finalized 8/10/2016 12:00:00 AM
Categories: gouged, family,
Form: Free verse

A Grain of Sand

I tossed a pebble
in a placid lake and
caused roaring ripples
in the vast seas;

I blew softly on the
breath of a passing breeze
and spawned raging storms;

I gathered high mountains
in  a warm embrace
and set their hearts ablaze;

I scratched on the face
of the earth and gouged
these deep canyons;

I kissed the setting sun
and sent tremors through
the core of the earth;

I set the remedy 
for all the ills of mankind
within the realm of nature;

I replicated 
the laws of the universe
in a drop of water;

I garnered 
these profound secrets
and locked them in
a grain of sand!


~Maytime Standard contest by Brian Strand.
Categories: gouged, inspirational,
Form: Free verse

The Tear Collector

The Tear Collector


Tears they fall, sometimes bless-ed
In their burning
Watered reminders of a hearts capacity
To connect emotions
Soft welling they sting
And find their language of wet lashes
Run their courses
As ancient rivers carve their way
Through stone barriers 

Tears collected vanish in vanquished aches
Evaporate to silence
Leaving their mark, their fragrance
Breathed in the molecules dispersed
Cut to the edges of wishes
Images of longing
Hearts slowly breaking in two
Still holds you
Weep for you
I do

Behind the hard choke rasping and sobs
Moans sniffling for a beauty
Both found and lost
Delivered Jesus to red rimmed eyes
That see beyond and into the sanctity of pain
It cried; I; not for myself
But for you, for her, the rest of the world
Broken by innocence
And ignorance

The heaving heavy chest digs its well of sadness
In slow counted beats of blood
Grief for love
With these sickles gouged deeper to the flaws
And spread their knowing further
Into the fathoms of your soul
Tears; the reflections of venerated smiles
Become the augury of responses
Of sight pierces the darkest, fallen pool

Tears; the written messages of sorrow and laughter
Covert their collection of sacrifices
And fall bless-ed humane
The merciful and pitiable denizens
Of a stronger more courageous face than Gods
They beat with the bravery of flesh
More holy; than heavens sacred
Have these tears
For more sure they are in their tactile salt
Are these tears
Have lived

And in your tears a more profound betterment exists
More, much more of life
Stronger
Braver
And more courageous
To face their own existence
Than the pretence of their presence
In God
Categories: gouged, life, love
Form: Free verse

Harsh Cold Winter

It’s a harsh cold winter
You’re gone and I’m so bitter
I sat front-row seat
As I watched our love wither

Heart gouged by the splinters
You’ve silenced your ringer
And my feelings for you
Oh, they still linger…

It’s a harsh cold winter
Choked sobs and silent whimpers
Sparks of love burned out
Leaving ashes and cinder

Sleepless nights
Bottles of whiskey 
Skipped meals 
My love, do you miss me?

It’s a harsh cold winter
I’ve always been an overthinker 
Should I move on? Or reach out?
letting my healing progress hinder

Week old sheets that smell of you
Tears as wide as the ocean
People come and go 
But all I ever wanted was your devotion
Categories: gouged, angst, blue, break up,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Things That Break

A broken vase
is mendable
with a bit of glue.

Silver solder
repairs a rip in metal.

New parts often
keep the car running.

A doctor plasters
a broken bone.

New shingles replace
a worn-out roof.

Road crews pour asphalt
into dangerous pot holes.

Planks of wood
restore barn doors.

No substance on earth
can mend a broken heart.

Time is the only cure;
 healing is slower than molasses.

Sometimes, grief-gouged wounds
leave shadows
reaching into eternity.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gouged, break up, recovery from,
Form: List

Premium Member These Lakes

These  lakes are scratches 
gouged by glaciers
from rocks new 
when life began.

Life is hard here 
soil  thin, fire common
yet Thompson's West Wind
is but a paddle ahead.

Blood flows thickly
o’er flesh		
to knit a healing scab
leaving just a faint scar.

Stir not
these calm waters
nor linger 
o’er faint lines.

Paddle lightly
to the sunset
sending ripples
to the dawn.

May 19, 2014  - The Perfect Painting
__________________________________________________________________
Categories: gouged, art,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Limerick: Once a Born Blind Man Was Promised Full Sight

Limerick: Once a born blind man was promised full sight

Once a born blind man was promised full sight
By an ophthalmologist fully tight
     Two slits and dabs all told
     Saw in wonderful world –
Beauty Contest: gouged his own eyes outright.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gouged, beauty, fashion, women,
Form: Limerick

Still

I have developed a temporary dislike of the things that I’ve convinced myself have been keeping you away from me. Mere substitutes that admitted to the murder of your mind.

This phone, and this 11 o’clock moon have slayed my reason’s for not just blaming your wandering eye.

Most of these nights I’ve tried Ctrl.Alt.Del.(ing) any ridiculous thoughts, by selecting all of the frequently frustrating things that know just how to push my buttons. I don’t know why I’m speaking in computer terms, but lately I haven’t been able to function quite right unless I’m near one. It’s the only way to get near you.

Most of these nights, this phone has been the entire left side of my brain, but now my mattress has memorized the rhythm to a ringtone it should’ve never been introduced to, and now the stupid cushion keeps me awake until it has made sure that I’ve felt it vibrating up my spine. My intuitive, creative right brain seems to remember being together with it’s brother each and every time I remember laying together beside you.

I wait for a wanting of your wanting. Muscle memories of warm bodies wrapped up in positions that make your mind say ‘what the ****?’ I am missing you. The you who remembers that the other members of her body are always here to help; no need to amputate a listening ear, or an gouge out an attentive eye. I still see you.

Sometimes, I forget that the phone’s main function is to send a signal of information to someone you can’t see. Whether it be via text, twitter app or vocally, you want to reach someone you can’t see. I still see you.

Sometimes, I swear I can see each of the moon’s phases during the day;  completely filled with life during the time when it’s nearly invisible. It’s sad though, because New Moon, you show yourself to everyone else except me on the nights I always expect to see your face. Is this a trick man? or have my eyes been gouged out already, and I simply missed the painful message via text, twitter app or vocally? But still, whether with two eyes, four eyes or no eyes, I still see you.
Categories: gouged, confusion, depression, life, loss,
Form: Free verse

A Visit From Massacre Fairy 1st Half

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town
Not a creature was breathing, not one to be found.

Bloody hand prints swept the walls which once were white
Darkness overshadowed anything that had light

Little boys were decapitated and sprawled across the floor,
While little girls were skinned alive; hung as décor for every door.

Mothers had their jaws ripped straight from their heads
As their children screamed for mercy from their very own beds.

Panic and pain ricocheted off the walls
Pets were brutally butchered then stretched out in the halls

And Fathers were kept alive long enough to observe
Then their eyes were gouged only to dangle by an optic nerve

Fifty-six minutes is all the creature takes
To slay the whole town with its massacre earthquake

Agony rained something fierce this night
For this town was caught in the worst of plights

And the echo of dripping blood is now all you can hear
The stench swimming through the air is encapsulated fear.

To have dodged this slaughter would have been transmundane
For this monster, this beast was most definitely inhumane


It came through the windows and tore through the blinds
Grabbing any human or beast it could find

Then Slash the body! Gnash at the body! Bash them in the crown! 
And Thrash the body! Lash at the body! Mash the body down!

Then it rips out your tongue and swallows it whole
This fiendish freak has a heart made of coal

When wondering eyes caught a glimpse of what did appear
They knew it wasn’t Santa and his flying reindeers
Categories: gouged, death, science fiction
Form: Couplet
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