Best Knifing Poems
Priceless pearls scattered as the necklace
Was snapped, ripped away by greedy
Hands, envious of your sublime beauty
And even gentler encouragement. Bounc’d
Every one of them cross cobblestones, cracks,
And down the storm drain irretrievable.
Holding that golden empty promise string
Your fountain of tears so scalded my soul.
Could I but hold you, say comforting words,
I would have. But words are trite when the heart
Is blistered in injustice’s heat.
We gathered what we could, returning
To the Sea, knifing open more oysters
Restringing your dream, one pearl at a time.
Had enough of fear of shock and awe, so let me say something now
Lest I get stifled of shut in, let there be some opening somehow
The fish of mind keeps growing in the ocean of thoughts moment to moment
By closing thought process how can you let it survive even for a moment?
It maybe good to wine and dine and have a good sleep
But anyone who’s devoid of concern is just like a sheep
You sold your freedom of body and mind just to feed yourself
You knifed your mind enough; let body suffer some pang itself
Chris Risum
1865 – 1920
She was the only woman who listened to me.
The only lady who cared enough to care.
For within my own dead marriage
I was sadly alone, pathetically ignored and ridiculed.
For while I was alive, I was an afflicted man.
A man dead inside himself.
A man endlessly looking for absolutely nothing to find.
With clenched fists and thrown shoes,
I was the man dodging the vitriol.
The man who felt absolutely no love
For the last twenty years of his life.
But alas, I met her.
The only woman who ever listened to me.
My lovely Gertrude,
The tall busty eucalyptus tree
On Rideout Way.
And there I would sit in her sensual shade,
On warm summer afternoons with my thoughts and desires.
And with the presumptuous winds
Streaming and knifing from the west
She would reach down with her long leafy flowing arms
And allow me,
A mere man worth absolutely nothing,
To touch her.
To feel incontrovertibly,
Her scintillating life force!
JACK FROST
January crushed the life of all
Angrily encased winter in the silence of ice,
Caustic cold burning the surface of the lake,
Knifing winds severing the threads of sunshine.
Frozen - in the moments of their hesitation
Ragtag groups of flaked snow mold themselves
Onto the shivering frames of twisted trees,
Silvery statues glistening in the blue moonlight
Traced by the fingers of the artistic Jack Frost.
11/26/2015
submitted to – Acrostic : Jack Frost – Poetry contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
Ethereal, fleeting, incandescent
I grasp loosely at the airiness
So vibrant on the escarpment
X-rays pass through bone and flesh
Leaving no mark
I hold emptiness
Where are the diamonds?
Filling my fingertips?
Brushing my lips?
Tickling my tongue?
Lingering within my heart?
Eternity breaks open
Inverting itself within dark holes
Moons, planets and stars swirl
My amazement blazes anew
When the jewels reappear
Woodland sprites alive on the bark
Knifing through the trees
Frolicking on the ground
Dancing amongst the foliage
Daring me to catch them
Clay vessel opens
Alas, it is a porous jug
Absorbing but not containing
The warmth of a brief embrace
My skeleton’s soulful journey
Light twinkles
Passes through
Leaving no pathway
Psyche refuses defeat
What has been will reappear
Eyes to see the invisible
Kathleen D Kroll
March 19, 2016
Inspired by light in Yosemite National Park
Famed gold crepuscular rays angling down
Knifing in between, through volcanic haze
Hualalai and Mauna Loa’s crowns
Fire Goddess Pele greets fresh island day
Fuchsia blooms explode, steal attention
Pollens mingle on zephyr coastal breeze
Hallowed entry, this tropic dimension
Surf thunder backdrop, soundtrack of the sea
Running shoes crunching the roadside lava
Kaleidoscopic blooms, soon to transmute
Mango, papaya, lilikoi, guava
Untended harvest of paradise fruit
Slow tempo set to the island perfume
Soul dances in the fragrant sensation
Unbridled speed would be this journey’s doom
Not to give in to the exultation
Entering town, the cast of characters
Pungent whiffs of spoiled fish atop stale rice
Green Shangri-La’s dingy inheritors
Tropical Bukowski's frayed paradise
Amphetamine native, drawn skin and bones
Wincing eyes, loose grasp, cigarette homespun
Tribal markings long burnt, faded blue tones
Completed journey, dark side of the sun
Manicured denizens clutter the way
Fair guests at the Royal Lik’a’Heini
Young surf seekers grimace to greet the day
Pakalolo Hostel, skunk-and-briny
Volta at the pier, Triathlon’s temple
Hallowed asphalt, footfalls of history
World’s smartest man living life so simple
Broom pushing, tune whistling, smiling at me
I should run faster; it's Ali’i Drive
Temple of Ironman’s Marathon pride
Vainglorious dreams have boiled alive
Burgeoning pace, a seaside suicide
Fair breeze has halted, sharp rays now reigning
Blanket of torpor fights progress forward
Through fragrant pillow, all fight is draining
A ballistic migraine arcing southward
Demons exorcised, sultry purgation,
Epic journey ends in clear sacred brine
Feet dive in wet sand, a bless’t sensation
Gaia’s ocean of sweat swallowing mine
4/28/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
"Love, Blood Red"
I trusted with you my heart.
I trusted with you my Special Love.
I trusted with you, with YOU..
Everything I'm made to, for, and of...
I was willing to wipe all your mistakes entirely away,
Your Light to keep shining dissolving all the grey.
But while I was busy Loving you, your mistakes and all,
You were busy knifing my heart, enjoying every fall
Of every tear, of every drop of blood you could drain,
Drinking from my misery, guzzling down my pain.
As you lick your lips, sucking my blood of rosy red,
Are you dreaming of the day when I'll at last be dead?
Are you looking for hatred in my heart to find,
While shredding it and torturing my mind?
Sorry to disappoint you dear, sorry I'm without,
But my heart is filled with Love, keeping hatred out.
In my heart I grow Love, Love grows just for YOU,
With forgiveness and understanding, always on renew.
But in your heart you grow hatred and ego fed pride,
So abundantly there's no room for Love to reside.
Because your heart for Love has no space or room,
Destroying mine became your mission to entomb.
As the last drops you suckle from my bleeding heart,
With my last breath I'll say I Love YOU as I leave, depart.
As you taste the final drop, will you smile at your victory then,
Knowing it's my last drop, you'll ever drink again?
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2014/04/26 22:00:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
I fall a raindrop from stratus to stratum
birthed from clouds pregnant with thunder
a lion’s roar —a pride in the sky— fierce!
armed with lightning’s rip and slit
the scythe of claw and tooth finds its prey
knifing sunset’s skin desecrating cranberry rays
it’s red demise fills my see-through-eyes
Sun’s canvas shredded
I fall through tattered pages of watercolor-layers
accumulating dust and blood of the slayed day
I arrive not a predator but a peace-maker
my raiment fleece of lamb not mane of beast
I come to rest
a drop of rain who clings to a windowpane
… translucence transforms me
inside a room I see myself with my possession-pain
a swaddle-bundle I rock to soothe
pain held against my breast like a newborn
crying to be fed
nurtured with lemon-squeezed tears
and sticky sick-sweet milk of revenge
my fingertips trace my descent down the glass
I pray not to let the dark moon be my doom
I know myself like turmoil-seas know the shore
let the salt-sea’s seethe meet still grains of sand
abrasions cleanse one of crime and grime
I know myself like the night knows the morn
let the night be a knight
and capture rapture with light-swords of dawn
I know myself
the games I played with leather fringe and lace
his Marlboro face the Moët taste
the magnet attraction pulled my limbs apart
I am a tear liberated from the storm
free to fall free to fall oh I had to fall so far to be free
fall from heights where lust-wishes glisten
slip the stardust handcuffs
fall from nimbus find the limbus of self and soul
find a way to rise above black seams
and wanton scenes of my scream-dreams
translucence transforms me
I let go of the windowpane
and die to myself casting off pleasure of pain and sin
I fall to silent-sister soil inhaled to be exhaled
on dizzy wind-whimsy-warmth of first light
I fall a new drop of dew wet with sky light
as I bear Love's cross like a white lotus bears its muddy birth
Every time I lose your love,
Every time eyes open to dreams
That can't corral your quiet flame,
The silent corners of what’s real
Wash out, their angularity softens
As before a clear night sky
That has no moon or stars...
Still infinity surrounds me
Feels as close as my own heart beat,
Its darkness surprisingly light.
In this space the hum of fireflies
Becomes an almost tactile force,
(Possibly the sound of your breath beside me?)
And so much softer than a fan knifing air,
Almost like gnats trapped in your ear.
So lost am I in my “little death” that
The fireflies’ extinguished flash
Is really the only warmth
That calls me back to hope that
The sun will rise again.
But I suspect that all dark dreams must turn
At last to song, where petals
Touch is anticipated with joy,
Rainfall’s coolness floats God’s ark of souls,
And His promise shines in a rainbow...
For always when my dreaming ends,
I wake to find you there!
Brian Johnston
February 23, 2016
Rage fills my brain
As these fists come up
Regrets visualize
Suicide some
Anger overtakes my body
Evil complicates
Goodness fades
Waking the death
Upon these grounds
I bring back those
Who once stood around
Knifing your gut
Slicing your skin
Opening cuts
Bastard sin
Evil communicates
I stand by
Listening
Waiting
As you die
Last moments of breath
Last moments on Earth
Find your way out of step
Daggering threat
I visualize
Your sacrifice
For your kindness
Angers me
A Winter's Retreat
Snowy week here we come and go
Knifing thru the days with a nice flow
In time our skis find themselves fine
It's a cut above the week and forest line
Naturally, we take to our newfound hills
Garnishing the trails with thrills
1/16/23
Skiing Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Julia Ward
2nd
The sky is a lesser blue now,
but the same winter-knifing wind I remember
off the ridges, across alfalfa fields….
Just condos now, impervious to weather.
Cantering bareback on Molly –
saddle on its sawhorse back in the barn –
I was Lone Ranger, last of my breed.
A flake of hay for Molly, years gone by….
imbedded in memory
unknown
Suns crossing sky
just before silken slide
of evening's light into dusk
are like a string of moons
skimming an Alaskan winter-
during the year after her passing.
As the great glaring orbs
pull the tides far away
her spirit sings above
the green black waters
as the wind:
caressing, stroking, sometimes
knifing the ocean's surface.
The final day of grief,
gulls' cries echo into
sky, as the sun sinks-
giving birth to a violet
tinged, pinpricked sky,
cracked in the corner with
a sliver of moon- a sky that drapes
over a fluttering heart,
his courage flickering like a candle flame:
the color of dark embraces and the wind
stirs the long grasses touching his bare
black legs as he runs from the dunes
to the sea, a mirror reflecting the white sliver
of moonshine,
shattering with shards leaping to the shore
as he dives in for a night swim-
His is the only flesh
not imbedded in memory
Why Crippled America?
Any presidential nominee thus far,
Anyone ever in long history’s past,
Could’ve called America crippled,
A high look upon disability to cast.
Disability is now curable sometimes,
And healthcare stands sturdily tall,
As a nation’s proudest profession,
As our greatest step and tribal call.
So the analogy to disability power,
The relationship of doctor/patient,
Could be used by any great politician,
To explain his policies and argument.
But I believe that any candidate knows,
To deliberately dismiss this slogan,
To in determination bypass disability,
As a succinct method of explanation.
It’s what goes to make a man great,
A politician tick and get it right,
A women see the good and justice,
Of the Syrian migrant’s plight.
So Trump should be sued, slammed,
By disabled people in a law court case,
For debasing their physiognomy,
For knifing their contributive face.
He does not pertain to disabled people,
Now, after all of that in any way,
And if you are aware of disability,
Then don’t give him the time or day.
A STORY OF TEENAGE THUGGERY, JEALOUSY, TEASING AND TAUNTING -
THE DESTRUCTION OF A PROMISING LIFE ................
Staggering down the rain-drenched street
I see you, reeling drunkenly
like a sailor trying to keep his balance
on a storm ravaged ship.
You stop only to vomit your intoxication,
falling to your knees, then wobbling back to
tottering unsteadiness as you roll
faltering, aiming for the safety of home.
Your friend tries to steady you, but
you push him away in a tirade of independence.
Sober insecurity magically transformed
into inebriated confidence.
Then, there she is - the teenage focus
of your immature passion. She doesn't see you -
she never does - she ignores you
as she teeters on her too-high-heels
staggering, like you, over the rain-drenched cobbles,
taunting her hormone packed companion
with her pert breasts and pouting lips,
until she stops to kiss him in your view.
Sudden sobriety steadies you as you watch
them jealously - touching, kissing, exploring -
you call out angrily to distract them: you swear,
you name-call, a juvenile torrent of verbal abuse.
The reinforcements appear from the shadows:
his mates, jumping to his defence.
They grab broken bottles, discarded wood, one has a knife,
and they chase you, full-pelt, down the rain-soaked street.
You are easy meat: your reflexes and reactions
still laggard with drink. They floor you easily.
Blows raining down in a frenzied downpour
of merciless, unceasing violence......
kicking, beating, spitting, knifing, wild,
like a pride of lions decimating their prey.
You sink into unconsciousness, your lifeblood
draining, trickling with the rain down the pavement.
She watches, silent tears snaking from
mascara-laden eyes. She notices you now:
for the first time she acknowledges your existence
as your very existence is snuffed out ....
snuffed out like a near spent candle.
Seventeen years obliterated by youthful hatred.
Seventeen years annihilated by needless thuggery.
What a waste. What a bloody, bloody shame.
....did I say this was a 'story'? No, sorry, it's true......