Best Jolting Poems
These are the times you wish
you could pack it all up and be a kid again:
Take me away from the Now
and into the Then
(that's where I wish to descend)
Back when it was all so crystal clear-
just one emotion to steer the gears,
whether wafflewonder days
or weepywillow nights
(no nuance, no twilight)
Just perfect joys and poignant fears.
Happiness like butterflies-in-sunshine,
hopscotch-in-the-rain;
sadness a gray cloud to shut out the world
(the dust getting blown away, like autumn leaves,
from Monopoly)
The world was something to See.
Yourself someone to Be.
From the moment the eye closed
to the instant it opened...
... resurrection.
The monsters were beneath the bed, or in the closet--
(never once hiding in our reflection)
No possessions to speak of or concern us,
but we had Gold in our laugh,
a Sharpness to our gaze,
and a Sureness to our step,
from one emotion to the next
with no discernible causation.
"I am HERE!" shouted the feeling
without hesitation
(this, of course, the norm
before they gathered in committees
to make a sensible decision)
We were Fireflies--
sometimes on,
sometimes off ... but we always BURNED.
Didn't care a lick about the darkness
that grew weary of our light;
because we said what we meant
and meant what we said
(didn't hide from the Truth--
we were already free
to be Me,
to be You)
But the years soon passed as they so often do.
The adrenaline rush to adulthood finally came,
I can see it peak over the horizon
(...but I'm not Roller-coaster Ready...)
Yet here I descend into that maelstrom
where the colors twist and blur with every turn, jolting us here, jolting us
there
into that rickety reality,
reminding us our mortality
(Death just sitting there smiling that ancient fear)
We are all of us, strapped to the cart,
with nothing but our beating hearts.
And no one knows where it's going, but we're here.
Arms raised high until we die
(at least that's what my intuition is showing)
--
I now wave to the school bus
filled with adults-in-waiting
wishing I didn't know what I know
(someday soon,
perchance tomorrow, perchance the next,
that sunflower certainty
is sure to go)
"You're all too young
to not take in the sun.
Don't shed a tear,
enjoy it while it's here."
The Eagle of Isaiah 40:31*…
Activating achievement-appearance
Blowing blessings’ brilliance
Carrying changes’ chance
Directing drive-dare despite distance…
Extending endurance effortlessly
Fueling faith-fervor fully
Greeting God’s goodness’ glow graciously
Hoisting hopefulness-height hastily…
Increasing influence in instructing
Joining journey’s joy-jolting
Kindling kindness keeping kindred-knitting
Leading love’s lighting…
Moving miracle-magnification mightily
Nurturing nourishment-needs naturally
Optimizing obedience-opportunities openly
Pushing productiveness powerfully
Quickening qualm-quakes quickly…
Refreshing revival-rejuvenation
Satisfying secured salvation
Tossing triumphant transformation
Unleashing understanding’s utilization…
Vanquishing villains victoriously
Working well worthily
Xing ‘xcuses ‘xcellently
Yelling Yahweh’s yeas yieldedly
Zooming to Zion’s zenith’s zealously!!!
*Isaiah 40:31 But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
May 3, 2018
5th place, "I Wish That I Was Poetry Contest"
Sponsored by Viv Wigley; judged on May 6, 2018.
From a list made long ago
I’ve kicked my bucket many times
Yet, I’m still alive
Night’s impetuous canvas
Memories painted in broad strokes
Bold images color my dreams
First a brisk zip line
Snow flurries gathering on my nose
New Hampshire’s White Mountains
Majestic, tranquil setting
Gliding in a sail plane over Tallahassee
No engine; jolting air currents
Finding relief in a smooth landing
Indoor sky diving in New England
Exhilarating, feeling like a super hero
Smile never left my face
Parasailing over the Gulf of Mexico
Peering below to see sharks near bathers
Calling out to warn them
Catching a 50-pound Goliath Grouper
Endangered specie
Set free to live another day
Only one item left on my list
Traveling abroad
Seeing the castle that bears my name
Waiting for the pandemic to end
I tell my Maker
“I’m ready when You are”
Life feels nearly complete
What a joyful ride!
November 9, 2020
For Chantelle’s “What Have You Kicked Off Your Bucket List?” Contest
The poor little thing, he was just a’shivering
Scared right out of his wits I’d see him jolting
Bewildered, seeking strong arms to hold him tight
To make him feel a little safe and calm his fright
Though at times I’d feel earth’s sudden trembling
To me t’was but torrential rains with bolts of lightning
Everyone knows I’m deaf since birth just like my aunt
But my dear little dog didn’t buy my being nonchalant
He shivered violently with those pitiful large eyes
As viciously outside the storm continued to terrorize
I took my pooch into my loving arms, got warm
Curled up and together waited out the storm
Tried to appease his pounding heart
Confident was he we’d never be apart
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on February 14, 2018 for contest DESCRIBE A THUNDER STORM WITHOUT THE SENSE OF SOUND sponsored by BRENDA CHIRI - RANKED 3RD
Evoking sullen quests of a lonesome mind
She stepped outside under the starry skies
Only to find, one more time, no one replied
It was a vibrant sky celebrating moonlight
Wanting no part of her gloomy trespass
Jolting her entrance in thunderous clouds
Being self absorbed within grim thoughts
She rewrote the vows engraved in hearts
Ignoring sensuous past that longingly recalls
Refusing feelings that once she cherished
Courting indignation of a senseless voice
Asserting obliquely, she made her choice
Unwilling to acknowledge her cries forlorn
Silence she heard was the galactic response
Rejecting her plea to renegotiate what was
May 10, 2019
HM: Strand select M contest by Brian Strand
| I Dream Poetry in Darkness and Light |
Unbroken, my light rises like deep alluvion of sweet rivulets,
Craving passions and tragedies like written poetries of Juliet.
In softly spoken words I quell, of streamed sheen of sunbeams and spells.
Where worlds of fallen reality and fantasy live in parallel.
Playing with dreams and it's ruinous luminosity,
Through my skin, I feel its pale softness glow.
For, my ferocious heart beats for disaster and catastrophe.
Between the beginning of dawn and it's closing dusk evenings.
Reaching with ardor towards it's warmth,
The bitter transparent wind on my lips, I kiss.
Nevertheless, the dark reminds to hide all my mess.
But, this febricity itch with within my hidden fears,
Recoils and quivers like a mournful Mimosa.
Hiding under midnight treacherous treasuries but, I falter closer.
Let me lay in darkness; between these verses.
Let all hatred consume me with unbearable curses.
Let me die within these spiralling pages and vortex verses.
But, the scintillant light lends it's chi,
reminding my lungs; inhale deep; exhale free,
Like a pretentious vapour; I keep climbing.
My senses swell; atmospheric rising with spring tides fluorescent rhymings.
I move through like osmotic whispers; jolting with winged feathers of sweetened writings.
Because, I dream poetry in darkness and light.
And mourn with unspoken words; simultaneously, day and night.
On the energy waves of the eons,
Of lyric and line ever-forming,
One is injected, transported,
With all vibrations bursting
Through the human heart and mind,
The jolting edge of innovation
And every positive passion.
Even the cynic or child may sense,
When riding such a current,
The power native to humanity.
Synapses now malfunctioning
Cannot forever thwart their charge.
Mankind has the voltage needed
To mobilize all the connectors.
the coastal train began to slow
as two tracks merged together
it stopped at the end of a single line
in freezing winter weather.
the arrow on the 'way out' sign
led me through a covered hall
but my ticket proving I had paid
was never checked at all.
I walked downhill towards the sea
and left behind the train
motionless at its terminus
and exposed to driving rain.
a small boutique was “CLOSING DOWN!!”
on its "FINAL BIG SALE" day
but despite saying “OPEN” on its door
it had long closed anyway.
I walked past moving spinning lights
that chased and made a noise
inside a place where grabbing cranes
missed grabbing plastic toys.
a gull perched on a wet sea wall
shrieked out its gull like sound
it never moved as I walked by
but stared and stood its ground.
the mist and sky were grey and one
and rain was teeming hard
as thick wet sheets of 'nothingness'
blanked out the promenade.
a man head bowed against the storm
and dog chasing its tail
were at the mercy on the beach
from rain that morphed to hail.
and all those places I once knew
'were on a different street'
with signs that stated "VACANCIES"
and "BEDROOMS ALL EN-SUITE"
I never found that B & B
recalled through misty eyes
and the park that I remember
over time had shrunk in size.
there were parts of town I recognized
and parts that I’d forgot
the cinema had disappeared
but the beach café had not.
with all its red formica tables
and warm and cosy light
the small café dispelled the cold
and put the rain to right.
there was beauty and some sadness too
jolting memories by the sea
I’d reached out to a time long gone..
..and it half reached back to me.
Corals
erubescent, effervescent
proliferating, enticing, embellishing
Acropora, Montipora, Isanthus, Actinia
tickling, electrifying, jolting
grotesque, virulent
Anemones
19 August 2022
Dazzling Dizzy Diamante Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
1st place
One dark and dreary night many, many moons ago
myself and a friend coming home from the local disco
no names mentioned smiling . . .
and in the far distance we could see and hear three girls
laughing and giggling and having fun
This was Halloween Night or All Hallows' Eve . . .
and so we climbed up the nearest evergreen
barely breathing, holding our breaths . . .
so they would not hear us and sense our presence
the one directly in the middle as they neared us
in passing a quick clip at the back of the head said
do you want to hear the screams roaring out of
them away hammer and tongs up the road
We could hear them shouting and carrying on . . .
I'm sure that place is haunted
to this day they tell their story claiming it to be real
well better still was to come for both of us
laughing our hearts out giggling like madmen
I felt like a gruesome hand of ice just touched me . . .
the tremors ran down my spine
jolting me in a most terrible way
almost felt like a gripping sensation on my shoulder
almost falling of the tree with a roar
My good friend starting screaming making it worse . . .
saying somebody must of touched us the same time
we looked at each other and made a race to get home
just got really spooked and ran the whole 3 miles home
in a record time ever saying my holy prayers every stroll of the way . . .
a most hideous and macabre thought -- a ghost touched me
as the cold ran right through me chilling me to the bone
never was I as glad to see holy water in the house
I bless myself for being lucky
never ever have I pulled such a prank
from that night to this . . .
It backfired on us so we chose never to say
a word about it ever again!!
And now we can only say: BOO!! BOO!! BOO!!
And Happy Halloween!!
Liam McDaid and Gary Bateman, Free Verse Collaboration (October 13, 2014)
(Contest Entry for Halloween Co-Writes, 5 Nov 14, Diane Locksley - Sponsor)
A long, long time ago, three children met
this old, gentle lady in an ancient farm,
bidding them to enter her large kitchen
with a sweet flavor of gingerbread and ale...
Beside her , a huge, dark rabbit jeered
as the children merrily romped along.
From where she stood, the lady began
looking like a dingy hag with a pointed jaw,
and warty despicable face. Oh, no! She was
the village hag crackling with delight as her
quaked hands pulled and dragged the kids
in a rush … “ Come along, Kent, Iris, Lynn”,
whisking the youngsters toward a boiled pot.
Suddenly, at the height of terror, one jolting
kick burst the door open. A large giant
of a man howled.” Now, listen, I am
the rabbit under a spell that quickly seized
a magic potion from the crone’s hidden kiln.”
With a blow, he crushed the evil witch
then gathered the kids in his arms.
Under the red of moonlight, three children
and a lumberman hummed their way
out of the woods… victorious finally free!
.....................
3/8/2017
Eve Roper’s Fairy Tale For Children Contest
The Most Offensive C-Word
By Elton Camp
The F-word is just revolting
The awful N-word is jolting
The way things have been of late
There’s another one that folks hate
Cruel is a word that most despise
For great evil it most surely implies
Crazy is very politically incorrect
For disability bias we easily detect
Yet another C-word that is even worse
Its very sight makes lot of people curse
For the word immediately does convey
Thoughts of leading the economy astray
If you have followed events of the day
Then it is “Congress” you likely will say
The roof is leaking, and the heater is out, the kids are awake jolting about, the
windows are ajar and the door is cracked, and the toast is
burning really bad. The car is started and its leaking gas and the kids just won't
stop jolting about, the windows won't shut and are slamming about, The kids just
won't quite running around. The door won't open more then an inch and is
hanging up by just one clinch. The kids are already jolting bye eating there
breakfast as they go bye, out the door they all go to the car that has a FRO , down
the road to the left, pull a quick-e- and make a left, just in time for the bell, the
kids are all gone in a dash almost faster then a mouse. Off mom goes in a
smash to finally go smoke her stash!!!!!
She had beautiful hands, I remember
Strong and brown and crude under the choking lamplight
that wintry autumn of the potato blight
I saw them cringe and turn over and over
She thought I’d fallen asleep, but no
I watched her silently in the dark, well past midnight.
Her hair was rich and long, I remember
Coarse and uncombed and tangled on sweaty afternoons
One sweltering midsummer before the monsoons
we crouched in the fields and together worried
Masses of hair spidered across her wet cheeks
Sweat or something else, running down those weathered prunes.
She had eyes like the sea, I remember
Stormy and clouded and murmuring of a shipwrecked sorrow
That spring day the wind swept away the morrow
she stood with her back to me and hung her head
I saw her weak frame jolting and stiffening
and my infant heart was splintered by an invisible arrow.
Her voice was a melody through the reeds, I remember
For fifty years her lips could give only sighs
Unbroken silence shivering beneath frozen skies
Her throat rippled when she looked at my blossoming face
Quivered and quivered in a song of muted melancholy
Then one day away she flew, like a flower, without goodbyes.
There are days like these when life patently doesn't come easy
like peas and carrots, tea and biscuits, moonshine & sun's resign,
more so resembling ill-assorted poked chocolates' wrongdoing of
dissemblance discombobulating conceivability mid hokey designed
disorderliness, inasmuch mute poetry impatiently awaiting lavishly
gifted muse's breathlessness to transform convoluted unreasonable
fractals pon escaped tauntingly mundane madness, twixt brass-tacks
wracks daunting tribulations throughout intervals of immoderately
spun matter-of-taxing challenges and perplexing puzzle pieces,
sans instructions far-side nonexistent proportions affixed with sticky
hot glue gun drivel or coffee pathetically absent jolting caffeine...