Best Knotty Poems
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” - Khalil Gibran
I am a delicate deck of cards,
alabaster roots, tossed
across time’s yard
from foolish patterns
of poker promises,
like the days
when scorching summer
was an ace of solstices.
You’ll find my name
in numbers where
the perfumed forget-me-nots
in pressed pages slumber;
defined as the black hearted
queen of blood diamonds,
soaked in vintage
murdered lies-
fallen angels, singing
solitaire’s sorrowful sirens.
For I have long earned
the straps
within mystical corners,
crumpled, placed
to breathe in a crystal coffin
with no escape,
and no mourners.
Yet the moon subtly smiles-
at our sin, through
rose-colored everything.
And I swim
in my own darkness, wading
through wet waves
of black spades,
washing wounds
in the nothingness,
crashing unto gates
as heavy as
a raven’s wing,
whilst I’m clawed
and transformed
under betrayal’s sting.
So take my scars
as an offering,
feeding the knotty cracks
in our foundation, paper thin;
there’s nothing left
to take, or give in
this facade we maintain
of this kingdom
of an immortal harlequin.
Rolling in
Meadows in her hair
A tango mass of
Butterflies
And what knots
Roped in
Tongue tied
With a pollen smeared smile
Smack smitten by every cinch
8/22/2019
Wow Me Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Nina Parmenter
the pair stood together by a warm hearth
strong andirons of wrought steel
shared log, a charred remnant
(7/30/2020 – ‘00 Destination 53 DMS)
"Serene is the green of the sculptured knotty pine, arms uniquely reach and none the same, with woody scent of heaven." Quote by poet
Knotty pine enfold in the sate gold sun
stands stunning in an arboreal view.
Bound by forever changing blend pale blue
pure air of homespun charm, unflagging none.
Upon the pine needle and pine-cones
carpet, dappled shade awakes most active
nature, from blackest more lord attractive
noble to the whitest of daylight tones.
Rhythmic chants echo veiled in sound and light.
Steps over roots and limbs nature does put
and silent subtle shifts that are afoot.
The howl's that calls of invite at twilight.
Yielding nostalgic sylvan scenery
natural quotient colour greenery.
MY LOST ROMEO
You're my only love
And I call you my love
You are my Romeo
And my inamorato
I feel so captivated
To be loved by you
All I ever wanted
Was to be with you
And finally will you marry me
You asked me
Yes I will marry you
And live my lifetime with you
I gave you wholly
I loved you unconditionally
I gave you totally
I loved you solely
Everything happened so fast
Present turned into past
It was not meant to last
It just needed to past
You became cold it was rust not gold
Beautiful memoirs turned spoiled as mold
Not even our friendship was saved
You just turned your back and faded
Tears left falling
Never heard my heart's aching
Leaving without talking
Your heart's not beating
Into the bliss fading
Into the dark not worth remembering
Goodbye to you my Romeo
And my inamorato
August 23, 2015
"IN RESPONSE TO MY FIRST POEM"
Till we meet again
I said to ease the pain
To someone who turned his back
Who shall never come back
Pain can last
But time should pass
This feeling must end
But up to what extent
Till we meet again
When will I see you again
My Heart aches deeply
My Heart breaks softly
Gone are the days
Of the coffee for two
Will surely miss those days
At the cinema too
The smiles on your face
The sweet words from your lips
Like the sun that rises
As crisp as your kisses
Till we meet again
see you again
I will wait for that day
As long as the sun has its ray
@Copyright Meline C. Ngo September 28, 2015
half smile of caged concealment
Mona Lisa like, kindling desire
awash in pixelated illusion
your dark dreaming eyes preserving secrets
the glow of an image, layer by layer
my wish to un-knot the shifting shape form
with its unknown gravity
a stance
painfully inscrutable
till your voice, dusky, breathy
washes over me like smoke
reassuring in a kilowatt smile
telling me our lives unfinished
are an art installation
ongoing
knotty
that rarely fit effortlessly into the scheme of things
your repose
my white knuckle ride
A ten-foot-high sunflower man
with a gold-capped tooth in his mouth but
there ain't no plan
yet he wears the same old knotty
dreadlocks again and again
While walking himself through
Black Folk's yard in that bebop-style
no doubt along the avenue road
while smoking some of that sweet sweet Gunga
Yet, him so full of himself
rasta man young rapper
you rapscallion, did you bring the juice
There once was a knotty couple
She had an eye made out of wood
He was as fine as finished pine
As was one leg, on which he stood!
They met in a park one morning
He walking with a cane, plop, plop
She failed to see his broken gait
Bumping said cane, which would drop!
She said, "You're on my, wooden eye side,"
"I'm sorry, I did not see you!"
He replied, "Lady that's quite all right,"
"You're on my, wouldn't I, side too!"
His intentional play on words
Was met by her tried resistance
She said, "Here", handing him his cane,
"Are you in need of assistance?"
He said, "All you hurt was my pride,"
"I walk here for sport, not to beg"
She said,"I'll keep my eye out for you!"
He hoped, she was not pulling his leg
More than once this couple would meet
He playful and she a bit haughty
With all said and done, they became one
And yes, sometimes they were naughty!
Darkness descends and most folk
Are slowly wending to their bed
But, across there in Knotty Ash
Some Locals are stirring instead.
The residents of Diddyland,
Where the sun always shines,
Are pulling on their working gear
For night shifts down the mines.
The Diddymen of Knotty Ash,
That dedicated working band
Who supply Jam Butties to
Buttie shops across the land.
Ecologically efficient,
Cosmetically sound,
Jam Buttie mines are carefully
Landscaped to the ground.
With a bus service to Bootle,
One as well to Liverpool,
Not far from the motorway,
So the Nation’s favourite fuel
Butties of class and style
Can be shipped off to feed
The band of gastronauts
With discerning dietary need.
There’s an outlet store in Liverpool
Where one can sample the stock
Conveniently situated in
The shopping park on Albert Dock.
And all those happy residents
Looking for amusing things to do
Can ride the National Network,
Called Cycle Route number 62.
There’s contentment in Diddyland
And the area is rich in cash
Thanks to those Buttie miners
From their suburb of Knotty Ash.
In remembrance of that comic genius, the Late Ken Dodd who created and peopled Diddyland and its Jam Buttie Mines.
A naughty knight, his maiden sought,
Had high hopes they might tie the knot.
And though they ought, or so he thought,
’Twas all for naught, disaster-fraught,
Forgot how tied her nightie knots.
She, humored not, said Gute Nacht!
----------
SECOND PLACE WINNER
for the "Naughty Yet Innocent" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mohan Chutani
Written on 03/01/2022
Is my life getting knotty!
Which was once simple and fun!
Love came like blue ocean-waves,
lapping on my heart!
When your thoughts aglow in mind,
Shine...flicker of a moment,
Hundreds of bright sunflowers
Blossom in my dream!
I utter a gasp...oh no!
My heart was never missing,
I left it in a safe place,
With you, for ever!
Don’t Get Caught
Games of yester’s busy bees
Flattened farthins off the tram track
Ticklin trout and snarin rabbit
Sailing stick boats in the gutter
Stealing one stop rides on trams
Throwing stones at slow train firemen
Collecting coal he’s throwin’ back
Home fires carried in a sack
How to tickle trout
Find a nice welsh trout stream
maybe in llannraedyr
With an over hanging stone
Lie down and slip your arm
Into the freezing cold
If you touch a trout
He’ll shoot away
Don’t move just wait
slowly moving aching fingers
Six times in ten he’ll come back
when he does he’ll stay for a second
Then come back faster
soon he’ll stay
Grab and throw him out!
Snaring rabbits is easier
Dirtier but that never slowed us
Up or down
life knobby knotty
does not run smooth
but tangled in thorns, weeds-
winding twisting curvy-
complication confusion
perplexity on enmity
always to confront
with confidence and courage
accepting life as challenge
not always uneven
all along life does not show
dark charcoal night-
bright full moon also illumines path -
sometimes you can untie knots
though mostly get chained in shackle
yet not to give up
but to rise above
having patience to win
unfastening
unleashing
knobby knotty
life
An heart is a handy thing to have
except when its not -
Hands are of course handy as a glove
Except for ties that knot.
(c)Deo, Fort Beaufort, near Newtown "mixed-race" (In RSA English, "Coloured") Township. May 13th, 2021
Crone arrived masked as crescent moon.
We knew her by her star cape and her attitude.
I was wearing a warring pirate ship as a skirt.
The day was ripe for all kinds of shenanigans.
A trumpeter arrived to announce the next eclipse.
It’s one of those knottsy-tottsy-rottsy days.
I put on my star gazing hat, and tried to look average.
Difficult for someone as creative as me.