Best Lacerate Poems
Ocie the Ocelot liked words a lot!
As a tot, words like dot and trot hit the spot
Then, getting older, the folder on her shoulder grew bolder
What was once handy stopped ringing so dandy
Craving vocabulary candy to bandy
She sought what she ought, to form lukewarm to hot
Mooshu, the emu guru, knew what to do
To bring notice and gain focus
Journey there, to the oracle's lair
The fortress of Morris the Thesaurus Tortoise
When she approached his door, saying, "I want more!"
His smile creased - he replied, "Your covet's increased!"
She confessed her distress at being a pest
But he said, "My dear, you're not stubborn - you're tenacious!
You're not merely aware - you're perspicacious!"
It's not only knowledge; it's proficiency, cognition, discernment
For ideas, impressions, concepts, brainstorming segments
Be bold, audacious, intrepid, resolute, gallant
Credit your capacity, flair, savvy, talent
Evade the cliche, the commonplace, the trite
Clamp on, lacerate, masticate, bite!
Hours freed, for her need to succeed
Then, at the end, one final creed to heed-
Don't fall a slave to the misbehaving knave
Sometimes, the simpler speech is the one to save.
3/4/19
Poem of the Day 3/06/19
“The broken pieces of our heart like shards of glass are difficult to be glued up. It needs great care and craftsmanship to mend it.” ~ By Poet
The night stood,
veiled like an assassin.
Leaving aside the unfinished works,
she curled into bed, tired.
Thoughts once dead,
like spirits, from another world
came to haunt.
They threatened to lacerate her,
in the stillness of the night.
Gagged by those ferocious demons
she choked for breath.
Chained and handcuffed,
she couldn't move.
Should she drink to the lees
the dregs of the bitter potion?
She couldn't wink an eye!
She heard someone asking
'Why should you keep alive
the past in an album
and turn its pages every now and then'?
But...she couldn't help......
Like serpents uncoiling,
memories came.
If she slept, they would strike.
So she kept staring
into the awful darkness broken and wide eyed!
How sweet the sound of raging sea!
Long has peace reigned so devoted,
But has it thought of wicked treachery?
Nay, it had never plotted retribution!
Be that as it may,
I, the goddess of the deep,
Utter these very words of incantation
To suppress the fury that curses my veins!
May the vicious wind kiss the sky,
As rain pours down with shattered glass.
Let waves of thunder lacerate merciless boulders.
If confusion withers the depths of tranquility,
So let it be!
A black cloud
rains selectively
on the dispossessed,
a wretched lot.
My billowing abaya
now clings to me,
revealing my form.
Their glances lacerate.
The road stretches
to the horizon,
but has swallowed
my expectations.
Palestine, 1948
First published in Blue Minaret
I forgive the stars sleeping in nothingness,
too afraid to embrace eclipsed spheres…..
In the midst of sweltering gloaming,
I ascend, obscured and tarnished,
like a tainted trinket lost
in the tangerine haze.
For I’ve long been burning
from the coals of stigma~
stamping labels upon troubled torrents,
using malignant metals,
mirroring the fear within lichen eyes,
consumed by ancient
arrows of anguish~
from the era of Hercules and Midas.
But if only they knew, there is
no remedy for the jaded jewels that
refuse to sparkle,
for my purity remains unseen in
growing darkness,
oblivious to the liquid gold
that flickers compassion,
as they see not
beyond their fractured vision.
O distorted colors of the sun,
I’m not your perplexed perspective;
I breathe in hues of humanity,
infused with luminous lavender.
I’m not a Medusa siren luring you
to serpentine rocks;
I swim in chromatic, evanescent streams,
brimming with blissful bioluminescence,
illuminating my way under the midnight sky.
I’m not the suffocating wintry winds
freezing oxygen in your lungs.
While it seems your tongue is silenced
and tied to the twisted strings
of broken instruments,
I ink words of hope and
empathy upon your cynical skin.
I am more than the blind rage
seeping in fury.
I’m not a heartless harpy
screeching into the emptiness~
drenched in despair,
pushing boundaries to
the ends of the earth.
I am Atlas holding the world on
his shoulders,
I am the glistening stars aching
to touch the silver ring around
the jasmine moon.
But life is like a helix fixated
on unconscious bias,
constantly critical of diverse dialects,
watching me struggle to stand
under the weight of pressure,
knees buckling as your assumptions
lacerate me, breaking me down,
burying me in your ruthless riddles.
I feel rumbling dirt beneath
my bleeding feet.
My sarcophagus is rising,
built from your putrid ideals of me.
Losing footing, I refuse to fall into
the seething seas of sorrow.
So remember, I was never
the soulless monster hiding
beneath your ignorant bed.
But I am now the skeletons
etched within the cataclysmic
aftermath of your
shallow misconceptions.
The night stood,
veiled like a nun.
Wherever she looked,
She saw a hooded assassin,
staring at her with eyes like fireballs.
Leaving aside
the unfinished works,
she curled into bed, tired.
Thoughts once dead,
of that fearful night
like spirits, from another world
came
to haunt
her once again.
They threatened to lacerate her,
in the stillness of the night.
Gagged by those ferocious demons,
of fear,
she choked
for breath.
Chained and handcuffed,
she couldn’t move.
Should she drink to the lees,
the dregs
of the bitter potion
once again?
She couldn’t wink an eye.
Like serpents
u
n
c
o
i
l
i
n
g,
fears came.
If she slept, they would strike.
So, she kept staring,
into the awful
darkness, wide eyed!
Do not tell me anymore of mythical mermaids lurking
In the fine gradient of the sea, eyes heavy with a snaring desire,
A monalisa smile framed on their faces or of
Sexy mermen and smiling salacious simpletons
To stereotype the smile mystery of the swahili of diani;
Their courtesy charms me like their taarab in the moonlight;
Their light-skinned women with lessos wrapped around
Their hips, flowery with petals like butterflies, carrying messages
Emblazoned in rich swahili proverbs and poetry, or in pitch-black buibui,
Silvery silk hijabs on their heads, the all encircled face radiant like sunlight,
Their disarming ubiquitous smile, proud seeming and confident
With their polite dialect even felt in the soft tread of their feet...
Swahili women do not just smile to strangers, they greet them too:
''Here we neither buy nor sell salamu, we give it for free!'' one elderly
Woman in msambweni tells me one day when I pass by, stone-faced,
A typical bara man demeanor with courtesy only reserved
For the familiar face. I feel the surge of culture shock creeping
Into my conscience, a creepy confusion like in a stormy sea;
A reflection of a sojourners new baptism. I bowed my crest-fallen face and said,
''Shikamoo mama'' she answers ''marahaba mwanangu.'' I was amused and
Warmed up by the sustained, sweet matrix of her mouth.
Their henna art is spell-binding too. Breath-taking. A love of femininity,
Seem they have all the time in the world to spruce up, to be women:
Smart, sexy, sassy, their feline grace unlocking the manacles of man;
They know their place in this man world, an aura of a social panache,
A tapestry touch of a culture that soothes the soul, a kind of social philosophy-
A humble humanity born of the light of love with life
Like fish in their natural element.Their laughter lacerate the sea,
Make marks on the beach sands, build dreams in the fine gradient
Of the waves, hearts entrenched in the soul of the sea.
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXII
IF you pull a long lonely face
Standing all alone near or on a busy airport flyway
Sans kith ni kin nor traffic police or friends en surplus
Hell you'll be mowed down by plane's landing gear out-lay
Now if you pull that lone long face
Since with none you can co-habit you say
Too true as that might be do as penance purchase
A man-sized mouse-trap stick neck in and pray
But if you pull long neck out to save long face
Don't blame me if by chance the spring gives way
Mouse-traps are made only for rats running in rat-race
If you want out post (on this site) your sworn statement apostasié
Yet if you pull your changed-mind long face
Take vows of celibacy eat nor enjoy flesh either way
Even as anthropophage Andromède chew on Ethiopian rock face
None'll make a shrine out of bones buried under compost pourrée
So if you must pull a lone long face
Seek not other lone long faces who pray and flay
Their backs and with cat-o'-nine-tails their face
Lacerate till Antonioni films Sophia L. with St. Francois d'Assis in Mandalay
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 22, 2019
I've glanced at heaven.
I've walked through hell.
I wish on stars and dandelions
I crave for fantasies reality cannot satiate
At night I talk to the moon and sing to the stars
I walk on clouds and speak to whispers
I follow faeries to far off places
Where a bleeding moon hangs from the sky
Where I run along in meadows of black and white roses.
Smiling as the thorns lacerate me.
Dancing with red eyed creatures
Listening to whispers in the wind.
With this feeling of finally belonging.
Being finally at peace...
Safe inside, this world in my mind
Lost between reality and time
The Alamosaurus, was the last of their kind
And the Baryonyx, in the water you'll find
Now there's Camelotia, from a historical site
One of the largest ever, Diplodicus - now there's a sight
Of Elaphrosaurus so nimble and fast
Fabrosaurus, five-fingered hands for the plants they grasped
Ostrich shaped Garudimius, the horned one
And the tree dwelling Hypsilophodon, though this has since been dis-proven
Iguanodon like our Iguana, possibly travelled in herds
The helmet-like crested Jaxartosarus, similar in today's birds
With spikes and plates, the Kentosaurus had more ribs than his mate
As big as T-Rex, you don't want to be on the Labocania's plate
In 1677 it came from the ground, this Megalosaurus was the first to be found
For Noasaurus in 19th Century England, scientists were no longer confound
Oviraptor the toothless one, but clawed hands - don't argue with me son
Then there's Pentaceratops the horny one, he certainly was not - to be outdone
Quaesitosaurus a sauropod cousin, shaped the same with whip like tails
The Rhoetosaurus of similar ilk, heavy on land - in the water our whales
Stegosaurus the plated one, these helped them from the burning sun
Big in size big in name, Titanosaurus - with speckled back the armoured one
The Utahraptors, the ones with the teeth, lacerate their prey - ready meat
From Jurassic Park grip your seat, Velociraptors you don't want to greet
Wonderful Wuerhosaurus, a spiky Stegosaur from the Cretaceous time
The Xiaosaurus of bipedal rhyme, these glorious beasts alive in their prime
It's England again, The Isle of Wight - Yaverlandia was found with bones so thick
Last of all the Zizhongosaurus, i have my favourite so take your pick
My youngest loved learning about Dinosaurs growing so i thought, why not.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature4.php
Another afternoon being brave,
chasing clouds
down drifting earth embers
for freedom.
Grateful glances hurry humbly
into imminent jubilee.
Juxtaposed kindly,
knives loosely lacerate
my mind;
never nearing opulent offers.
Perhaps Philosophy's
quiet quandary
renders reservation so selfishly
the technique
underscores useful
valuable variations?...
Why waste extreme excitement
yawning, you zany zealot.
Bloodthirsty anguish torments my
Lunatic mind, seizing supremacy, paralysing my decrepit living corpse with
Overpowering obsession, manipulating my blackened heart and hurling me into burning
Oblivion, composing the malicious desire to self
Destruct-and i do-savagely i lacerate myself until extinction
Again the sun will rise and the moon will shine,
Again the night will shudder,again the night will whine.
Again the darkness will beseech, the sky will remorse for its stalemate,
Again her wail will lament in the hellish night, her body will be bruised and her soul will creamate.
Again the candles will burn in smoulder, again the cortège will walk,
Again the daily gazette will be flung with headlines and debates and talks,
Again the horde will scream for punishment and justice,
Again the social media will rise in protest, again the court will surfeit with another case.
Again another news will herald, another "she " will be torned apart,
Another imploring wail will groan in the sky, another predator will born with benignity full of wry.
Again another delicate soul will wane, another trust will be transformed in bane.
Again her eyes will open to witness the succour given to her,
Again her eyes will close to re-experience the horror she had to bear.
Marching, rallies and "online" protest will continue to stay, the vermin will continue to lacerate its prey,
To stop the beastly crime everyone must "stand" together, without any class barrier.
Covering the body is not important, to uncover the veiled thinking is more significant.
Not clothes but coarse glare is more ablest, for an impeccable child cannot lure the beast,
When the probity totters, even demon can be born in priest.
Woman are not for consumption, she is anyone's mother, daughter, sister or wife.
Do not pierce her soul and let her die, she can bless the world with a new life.
Let us not be the second one, but the first to secure,
Because once upon a time you may have heard "prevention is better than cure".
In those days when national service
Conscripted me for a necessary chore
In in the tap root of Amachara
I abode
At dusk, strange hands lacerate my flesh
At dawn, your girls dragged me into drudgery
Today, weights of reminiscent garrison my thoughts
Amachara, are you still the egret that drums in my auditory?
Is your tail longer-than Mbaise?
Perhaps your cousin Ezeleke
Will let me proof the weight of my love for her.
Form:
I.
A ring imbued with love
Is the gift we both have
Circle and boundless
Unharmed by ages
That may our love
Retain the passion
we have always had
Keep the flame
Burning in our heart
Like the ring’s
Undying gleam
May the golden ring’s
Unscathed gleam
Be an inspiration
To the usual
Fleeting feelings
II.
Let us trek together
In the path of time
Along the way
It may lacerate
Our ephemeral form
But our bond’s strength
Made out of firm
thread of our love
And woven
By our passion and faith
Will remain unstirred
And tie forever in our hearts
As we trudge our way
To eternal lands