Best Laceration Poems
Snatching them by their head
Pinning them to the ground
Tearing off their limbs
Pouring water on their wounds
Standing up and carrying them inside
Showing them to your mother
She stares and says:
“What did you do to those poor ants?”
A sick addiction.
A moronic infatuation.
An idiotic restriction.
Grotesque laceration.
It's not safe to keep dreaming.
While fate hangs into my face, gleaming.
The tears from my eyes, streaming.
Locked within my own screaming.
An artificial love.
Sent from the Heavenly above.
Giving my faith something to shove.
It's wrong to like this.
Cutting away from this kiss.
Bleeding from the lips.
Inside these lonesome acid trips.
You're so bad and pure.
Your addiction gives you something to allure.
So loud, yet, still demure.
Do your drugs give you a cure?
Do you remember the way it used to be?
You and me.
So together and so free.
The truth can finally see.
Figment of my imagination, given to me, to fall.
To watch myself crawl.
While, you remained with with it all.
“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what we told my mama
when my daddy had his strokes.
Seven long years by his side,
caring for his body, paralyzed.
Fearing for her health we said:
“You can’t take care of daddy
till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what we told my mama,
until my daddy died in 1985.
“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what I told my wife
when her mom’s simple operation
became a septic laceration.
As she tirelessly cared for mom
I feared for her well-being.
“You can’t take care of mom
till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what I told my wife,
until her mom passed on in 2011.
“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what my wife told me
as my mama slowly wasted away,
physically, mentally, emotionally.
And we willingly provided the
loving care that she deserved.
“You can’t take care of mama
till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what my wife told me,
until my mama left the scene in 2015.
Take care of yourself first
when you experience the worst,
for if you fall apart, for certain
you’ll be someone else’s burden.
A seaman sails east,
trailing the sight of dawn,
as the seagulls dance in the wind.
He stands with a smile,
watching them flutter
with their bright, beautiful blend.
The sailor is brushed
by a comforting breeze
while looking at an island ahead.
He stares it in silence,
with its ominous clouds
hovering with a glow of red.
Drifting closer,
he sees a woman
just standing in the island's sand.
She’s a georgeous lady
wearing a long white dress,
with a red rose in her hand.
After reaching the shore,
he leaps off the boat,
then the woman starts walking away.
He hurries to catch her,
then touches her shoulder,
and kindly asks her to stay.
She snatches his wrist,
and faces him quickly,
with a knife in her other hand.
She slashes his arm.
He yanks away swiftly,
then stumbles and falls to the sand.
Rushing to his feet,
looking over his shoulder,
he sees her skeleton face.
She rushes toward him,
and the seaman runs away
like a victim of a horrifying chase.
After climbing the boat,
he looks back to the sand,
seeing no one there anymore.
The only things present
were the rose of red
and beautiful white dress she wore.
His blood disappears,
the laceration heals,
and the island fades away.
Standing in silence,
he stares where she was,
wondering if he's gone astray.
The seaman returns
to the wheel of his ship,
and steers quickly to the west.
While catching his breath,
he looks back shivering,
fearing to continue his quest.
Copyright 2007 INSIGHTS by R. A. Jones - Book Published by Publish America
My father waits at his table
for my delivery
a carton of cigarettes, some booze
to patch places of laceration
his health waning, piecemeal, like a trail of crumbs
dismantled independence
the coldest solitude of age
he lifts the cigarette carton I bring, crashes it to the table
"I told you regular smokes, not King size!"
flawed purchase on my part,
catching his smoky torch of rage
my father, no longer a full self of goodness
his prostate cancer, a derailment
our scripts dysfunctional that divide us
like broken cement
still, I shop for him, a life alone in a gray wasteland
my duty, a quest for inner peace
the familiar charity in my father drifts from him
like cigarette ash, up in smoke
I kiss his cheek before I go
unguarded moment
to heal battlefield wounds
to open barricades between us
the battered stumble of hope
Poem composed: January 23/2022
the tattoo on her eyebrow frowned
at the sight of yesteryear’s cutlass
the well-rounded blade had become
blunt dull and worn down from overuse
and yet straight to the point of salvation
the pain cut unceremoniously deep
like a double-edged sword that
protracted the kill in anticipation
of slicing from a lacerated mind
saw teeth serenaded an ode to demise
one more incision and the blood flow
would take her across the river of tears
lacerated dreams punctured and carved into
her epitaph a forgone pleasant conclusion
the point of no return loomed un-capriciously
her wounds had festered in purulent beauty
and she appealed to her inner resolve
why prolong the inevitable release
and she was calm with no tremor
as she faced the extinction of terror
her glance fell upon the scalpel
next to the toothbrush and lather
and the mirror liked what it saw
cracked glass a few shards missing
a borrowed fantasy and reflection
of a bloody life unwanted as she
pondered upon what message
to inscribe on her tombstone
the shower curtain ready for a last splash
cheered her on ‘don’t you worry’
‘I’m easy to clean the mess will abide’
grout bleach and tiles lured a whitewash
and the toilet brush smiled in applause
cacophonous bristles caked in foul smell
took her closer to the crappy memories
which had darkened a life not worthy
of living and she let out a flatulent moan
ultimate and terminal the fizz pounced
and she gripped the rapier with
surgical precision and intricate joy
then Occam’s razor pleaded for parsimony
and she went back to self-laceration
prolonged suicide suited agony’s hurt
much better than a knife in her heart
17th May 2021
Knife’s Edge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
In the darkness of the night
I see your star shine bright
I hear the cries of our people
trying to be seen as equal
I feel your resilient heart
being torn apart
the desperation, indignation, exasperation
They insult us with their words
their ignorance, unconcern, and condemnation
but despite it all, we shall rise
and never compromise
The pure hearts that we share
The proud people of this nation
We shall overcome despite their laceration
Since industrialization there’s been agitation frustration palpitation trepidation vociferation
And unequivocal asseveration in favour of our planet’s welfare glorification and protection
Premeditated or not, the results on the planet are nothing short of brutalization and martyrization
Damage is irreversible and orchestrated with acceleration towards matricide and genocide no question
Axiomatic domination exploitation contamination violation decimation decapitation
Take their toll from appropriation to deforestation, amputating earth’s lungs without arbitration
Patronizing politicians greedy for ovations ignore aggravation assassination brutification asphyxiation
Not fooling anyone with altruistic motives of lavishing ones with undue admiration and accreditation
We’re beyond allegations and accusations of criminal irresponsible desensitization and legitimation
Way beyond denials repudiation vacillation and claiming a convocation for immediate restoration
The truth is we’re an actualized and glorified civilization cohabitating with vegetation and crustacean
We claim to have more intelligence yet all we show is irreverence greed alienation and agglomeration
The truth is the damage humans have created in the last hundred years amounts to irreparable laceration
Optimists say it’s not too late to opt for self-preservation with inspiration adaptation and indoctrination…
AP: 1st place 2022
Submitted on March 26, 2018 for contest TRIPLE A CHALLENGE sponsored by ROBERT HAIGH - RANKED 8TH
Those words that cut so deep,
Flayed my skin left me bare,
Still echo round when I sleep
Even though you not there
I keep bleeding I keep weeping
I'm wounded to deep to care
These scars I am keeping
To remind me you not there
Changed forever by the terrible poison,
That I took from this laceration,
Settled in my bones in my reason,
Beyond redemtion and renovation
Fallen beyond my hurts and injury
My anger rules my heart
It rages eternal, permanetly free
Love no longer a part
A black and broken thing i've become
Free falling away from light
Forgetting the heart love came from
In the dark out of sight
Resigned as I am to my dark fate
I curl up and around my agony lie
Lay quietly down I start to wait
For the cowl and sythe to let me die
But my dark friend finds me not
No matter how long i wait upon the floor
I must find him before i rot
Even if i journey ever more
Fairwells are made to those that care
Careful to hide my last destination
Few will note that i'm not there
So i set off without a reservation
I travel now to meet my friend
With cowl of night and boney stare
I'll welcome his embrace come the end
But i'm glad i will know no one there
I hope to see such pastures green
Sunsets red and seas so blue
All the sites the can be seen
Do all the things i can do
For before this trip i can complete
Before i reach my family home
I will find the friend that i seek
I will fade away all alone.
jilted
a bone deep
laceration
profusely bleeding out...
sudden
Lines 35 words 374
Version 1
To my unfaithful beloved lover, my unfaithful spurned lover
I’ve been placed in the heat of love's passion gone
Betrayed since love's first kiss perceiving you were my heart’s desire
Always begging me to come over, yearning to hold my hand
I’m not taking this anymore, I’m the one to blame
From the heavens above, and the earth beneath
My soul is torn in this emotional game
Was it once love or is it now hate?
I am drowning in my tears, I am suffocating in my fears
All of the false hopes and dreams dead and gone
All Melted into ashes to rise up and to be strong
I am seeking for the remedy, the elixir of a new beginning
My mind wants to scream, my voice wants to choke
Pick me up, sunder my heart, I’m living alone in the dark
With each drop that falls from the sky, I’m bleeding away your love
This corpse of decay that once beat your name is setting me free for another love one day
Was it once love? I’m experiencing hate,
I’m drowning in my tears, I’m suffocating in my fears
All of the false hopes and dreams dead and gone
All melted into ashes to rise up and to be strong
I am searching for the ray of light for a new beginning
After being lost in the desert of scorching lies, I fall into a bloody gushing river, a river of life
Washing away the bruises from yesterday
Peeling the vivid masquerade clowns from my face
I see the reflection of a pulchritudinous figure being carved out of stone
I’m swimming in my tears, I’m overcoming my fears
All of the false hopes and dreams dead and gone…
Gentle hands upon rock foundation, the water flows freely
A sanguine drop on the rose petal nurtures a new creation
Feel the warmth. Start moving. Feel, take the breath of life
Out of the ashes from hearts laceration, I’m resurrected in the light
I am swimming in my tears, I am overcoming my fears
All the false hopes and dreams dead and gone
All melted into ashes to rise up and to be strong
A new beginning, crossing the boundary to a new frontier
Pigments of color,
form the shapes,
that create an image,
of you,
within my mind.
The first aspect,
I view within your portrait,
is the permanent smile,
etched upon,
your blissful face,
cloaked with the,
celestial aura,
that captivated all,
who have the privilege,
of knowing,
the beauty,
of your soul.
As I glance,
into your deep,
brown eyes,
that shimmer,
with enthusiasm,
I am reminded,
of your passion,
for all aspects,
of existence,
that expresses,
the lines,
that unite to demonstrate,
how you always,
lived life,
to the fullest.
Your humor,
echoes through,
my ears,
as I reminisce,
of how you place a smile,
upon the faces,
of your loved ones,
who were brightened,
by your personality,
unique,
bold,
compassionate,
affirming,
kind,
and irreplaceable.
The heart of a saint,
courage of a lion,
don’t come close,
to describing the values,
that distinguish,
you from,
anyone else.
You changed,
lives on a daily basis;
you gave me,
memories to last a lifetime.
You strum,
my heart strings,
in a way,
that no one else can replay.
I now notice,
hues of your portrait,
are fading,
from vibrant,
to banal neutrals;
the colors of my life,
began to vanish,
leaving a laceration,
of despair.
Out of sight,
sound,
and touch,
though you are intangible,
you shall never,
escape my heart,
nor depart from my mind.
The brush,
never forgets,
how to paint,
a masterpiece;
an illustration of you,
shall remain within,
my spirit,
through actions,
that delineate,
your legacy.
My finger throbbed, sliding red water splashing upon the slick topography, it was almost impossible to hide the laceration from these half-breed hybrids. Horns and ties, flesh costumes and ash shoes these monsters shifted between frames of realm breathers and daemonic vampirism. Cold cropped stares strung to petrify the weak hearted. She displayed elegant opulence in impervious form. Shadows among and behind me I could not touch her. Sadness dampens those cheeks of blush. If I could I would dry them but these minions of yours continue to bite my hand.
Can you hear my screams?
They tend to drown out your cries. Why are you hiding inside that mentality of flawed construct? Your lashes of sorrow blessed of the memories of a past swallowed by pride.
Look in the mirror, who is the most jaded of them all? Perhaps it is you who continues to bite my hand.
Without a tongue I no longer can scream, you made sure my words would be no more.
I only wanted to ask you if my heart still beats, or have you abolished it as well?
-Mitch
No one looks both ways here
desolate grounds call for desolate hounds
Creatures of the night landscape
Wait, up in the trees
a hint of jealousy
is swinging from a limb
tempting but i’ll pass good sir
Thank you for the invitation
thank you for the noose
Thank you for the laceration
thank you for the truth
In from a morning jog is a bit of grief
a bitter leaf he is
a hiccup in the birth place of loss
everything is not about you
it’s about the dead
it’s about a souls extravaganza
a rush of blood to the neck
the head takes care of itself
Back from a vacation is relief
sweet relief
too smell like the Earth
and soothe like the sun
I remember you relief
in the end
you’re a proper shoulder
the only one
who is there for me
The only one that cares
until I inhale temptation once again
falling right back down the stairs
(Thy lovely lasses unwittingly
unstintingly unexpectedly
taught me selflessness)
Every Holiday time each year,
a rocketing increase asper
doling out Uriah Heap ping
largesse imposed upon each
citizen banker (coerced, forced,
induced to buy baubles,
bibelot, curios, et cetera striving
to outspend a competing
shopper, which faux grand
handedness, and crass exhibition
generating mega sales (as Tale
of Two Cities, or more)
earns management stripes viz
embracing the Christmas spirit
(via blithely deftly, frenziedly,
et cetera) per avidly boasting,
coarsely displaying, eagerly
flaunting, et cetera prices paid
for the latest curiosity, doodad,
gewgaws (whereby un
avoidable advertisements), flood
mass communication airways,
causeways, driveways, et cetera
to plug reduced priceline sans
gaud dee, knickknacks, gimcracks,
encompass companies blitzkrieg
for those, who disparage being
labeled Scrooge plunk down
every red cent, and empty
their pockets, purses, wallets
to snag the title of topnotch spender
no matter no need exists to snatch
every last kickshaw, novelty ornamental
tchotchkes, (which modus operandi,
(visited upon the populace, a tidal wave
vis a vis figurative manifestation,
laceration, inundation, whereby tenet,
maxim, credo, et cetera broadcast
to general public amply expending
fistfuls of dollars fulfilling
Great Expectations
(for family, friends, relatives)
buy giving liberally,