Best Lesion Poems
Each walk along the cobblestone of night
reminds me how gladness becomes gloom
a despondent lesion from a heart,
while star-beam winks without a flare.
Here trembles a skyscape in the cold
as our affection in gradual leaks drains ,
and near winter too icy lingers,
that numb senses against it endure.
Although this moment denies to grip
one dedication tainted with a stoic end
as forward crawls our harrowing rift,
where a vanished dream lies , concealed.
For with this acceptance of loss, I pause,
yet, a graceful beat remains in frost that glows,
to triumph over reminisces stinging,
and stumble down like passion undone.
Ambedo Contest of Silent One
11/3/2020
Categories:
lesion, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
I love to sit under a tree
And smile as songbird sings,
He cocks his head and stares at me
And drops white slimy things.
And now behold, the leaves above
Reflect a change of season
A touch of brown, a flare of red
A dripping, sappy lesion.
Migrating robins from the north,
Their song too sweet for words,
Awake my soul; my heart calls forth,
“Shut up, you idiot birds!”
My eyes are like a dried up sponge
And soak in scenes of nature,
The tree, the brook, the winding road,
Some dead, runover creature.
And with my love, in peaceful bliss
As frequently I am
She shares with me in one sweet kiss
Her life, her soul, her phlegm.
And in a flash of brilliant truth
When fireflies start to dance,
I relive golden days of youth
(And promptly wet my pants).
Happy April Fool's Day, everybody!
Wrote this in college the night before a final
when I should have been studying...
Categories:
lesion, bird, love, nature,
Form:
Quatrain
Hard knuckles punch young boys--
to drill batchmates with madness
where innocence lays bloodied, done--
from a quickening of fear, a groan of oppression:
Our children silent as unfinished dreams,
in this wasteland of vicious apathy-
As hunters' whims injure meek lamb
through their rabid sense of entitlement…
Is it about a fancy of being anti-heroes
or alleviating youth's untold pain?
Tell us sheep, hearts of black;
for each lesion pierced, your own essence...torn apart.
-------------
For Lu Loo's NA the Day Away Contest
Submitted 9/4/2019
---------------------------
Re-post: 1 -12 lines ONLY - A Poem That Did NOT Receive
A Ribbon Placement 1-3 Contest
Categories:
lesion, 5th grade, bullying,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
This barren night along dim street
where lamp posts hide drops of gold flakes,
and thorny weeds crack at her feet
to sift death's crumbs, throwing keepsakes.
Yesterday's thoughts scream much bolder
alone now, pinned by heart’s lesion
missing groom's compassionate flair;
as anguish sigh in procession.
Fractured mind plays a tortured game
that sorrow drifts without relief,
chasing lost hours in timeless frame
while bleak clouds linger like a thief.
And darkened soul pours acid rain
till beads of moonlight kiss wet eyes,
stars dripping bigger than tears’ stains
to wake faith’s songs, new quests arise.
Grief Contest of Black- Eyed Susan
Categories:
lesion, pain,
Form:
Quatrain
Azure blue skies weep in rent glacial torrents,
iridescent earth sun trap poised to garner sympathy,
dark red cloud’s indignant float might yet rumble,
toxic deluge drenches mudbank plot as toilers whine,
thunderstruck I gaze at wild indigo sea mist on brine-fleck shore
Edge of seat terra firma species orange alert mere bluster,
grim altitude apocalypse for amber moon orb,
rampant shower pockmark with visual scar as trenchant plague,
vapour trail from lachrymose horizon now a shrunken haze,
alarm bell’s doleful peal across an impact cratered expanse once sumptuous mint green
Stream of gurgling silken brook upon reciprocal bright cadence,
otherworldly pine from volatile nebulae’s damp swathe,
vapid biome acreage a gaunt reflection though surreal,
despite magenta stardust twinkle whose infant phase corralled
by wayward drizzle
Hemisphere by half redolent of sombre devastation,
yet exotic visual haunt is that vaunted shadow zone,
sweet maple leaf ether bound refuge from monsoon rife,
pot of gold opal strewn paradise escape hatch,
from lesion blight topsoil or open sore empyrean
Purple leaf and bell pepper cascade swirling o'er panic stricken globe,
perfume clad hillock under hawk-eye squint,
denizens idyllic foster atmospheric canny urban vault,
they hobble gingerly on salmon pink stone bridge en route to harried terrain rescue
Categories:
lesion, anxiety, art, august, care,
Form:
Free verse
moon …
beams that burn -
that turn my surgings to slag
my teeth to serrations,
hungering …
can those silly sentients not see the
verity in my veneration, you?
do they truly think it’s only art,
only … verse?
that my blood runs in
these inky scratchings alone?
‘why pen these dark tales with such legitimacy -
such … clear scope?’
oh … why, indeed!
for were they but tales, they would
hold their own undoing -
such silly stories spatter the centuries,
but my secrets speak from the dark
of nightmares, whispered
they move with the muscle of truth
and bear witness to
the fiery curse …
I wonder, is my affliction as
ancient as your mares and mounts?
do those careworn crinkles hint of
a lifeblood unseen
that drips its poison to my arteries at
each milky plenilune?
with a single ruddy lesion you
tore the sun from my sky -
drove my days to the shadows,
the beast, blossoming …
did you entrance her, too, the one who
broke my skin to weeping -
who lit this pyre?
am I now but another minion of
your pale presidium,
bound by iniquitous urge to sever other
souls from the daylight?
if only that laughing lad I was
could’ve known why you tugged so
hard, his verdant heart …
why your shimmer ‘pon the sea
timed its cadence,
out-dazzling the sunrise …
why every kiss - every lass’ fair dermis
required your blue baptism to persuade -
to pique my passions …
perhaps then, with such portent,
I might have learned to silence your
alluring murmur in my ear,
and hardened my marrow to
your warm, wicked drug …
but the truth hid from me in the shards of
your strangling shadows
until your diabolical delirium flooded my
blood, thick as mud
brought by a human far too
exquisite to spurn -
a warm wound, opened in burgeoned intimacy
your scourge, igniting my veins -
mixing serum with torment
and ripping, like unfettered flesh,
the bright-born sun …
from my days.
Categories:
lesion, analogy, fantasy, horror,
Form:
Free verse
How the deceit in his eyes blinds like ash,
It clings to me in deafening silence
As I wail aloud only the moonlight hears...
This lesion from summers ago comes, blunt
That now whenever dusk burns a flame
I review embers of memories crackling
Within a buried voice...raging, raging
Like an explosive, thin gas that devours
All the coal within my scorched plight...
But then, his fraudulent gaze now heals my heart.
Re-Entered: 9/21/2016
100 in a ROW CONTEST: For PD A
Categories:
lesion, celebration, freedom, pain,
Form:
Free verse
She's my ebony princess
With an asian twist
Such a heavenly mistress
In a blasian mist....
That rises above me
To take the place
Of what doesn't love me
And fills the space...
Becoming each reason
To wake and breathe
And heal any lesion
That made me bleed...
Re-tying the heart strings
That broke apart
Denying the one thing
That made it start....
Shes my ebony princess
With that asian swag
Inevitably impressed
Just to be her dad...
Terry
WWW.WhiteLionPoetry.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=AAmJyyEDOWw&feature=youtube_gdat
a_player
Categories:
lesion, daughter
Form:
Light Verse
The lesion was
spreading. From
inside, I hear the wails.
Past and present
of time, plows
the furrows, in future.
Seeds remain
unplanted. I seek
justice from the earth.
Turn off the lights
I want to see-
the moon in its full glory.
Someone has left
the message for us.
Go out to face the wolves.
Satish Verma
Categories:
lesion, art,
Form:
ABC
Slither in, slither out, and look inside;
my borders are locked, the pale curtains thin
yet flames of vengeance stir from battered pride,
and rage is the owner that lives within.
The floors smell of acid, my betrayed past
a tear, a deceit from one scheming rake;
when nights’ lesion nips this maiden, outcast
as fury whips from a spirit’s mistake.
My gate at the front hides a moonlit view
that cracks with rust without making a sound,
it’s latch of distaste I can’t share with you
for heart is numb ; the key is not around.
Though empty this place of anger may be;
Iron are the walls, now it handles me.
Mad As A Hornet--Sonnet Contest
Sponsor: john lawless
10/29/2015
Categories:
lesion, anger, conflict, introspection,
Form:
Sonnet
Your black hair shimmered
I knew not the reason
I watched it every little season
My heart and head simmered
Your shapely body twinkled
As if never would it be wrinkled
Yet it had a little lesion
Which never ever rankled
You were my heart`s queen
Those organs of sight
Just witty and bright
They caught me off guard
An angel is all l had seen
I zoomed heavenward!
Categories:
lesion, dedication, love, song-uplifting,
Form:
Rhyme
Their numbers drawn, the backwards lottery
Almost none were aware they were playing
Assaulted by the poisons that save them
Hairless children with steroid-swollen cheeks
Feared stigmata of chemotherapy
Daily valiance, heroism unsought
Magic bullets are a relative thing
Modern wonder within the foulest curse
Not many years ago, a death sentence
Now, survival rate of eighty percent
It’s miraculous,
but if it’s your child
Then it’s a slow round of
Russian Roulette
Our own bullet burn unforgettable
Swelling in his eye, excised then regrown
For those of you playing along at home
Regrowth is a very ominous sign
Mucous Associated Lymphoma
Our newest demon, bane of our baby
Based on looks, it’s sixty percent likely
The microscope will have the final word
Sword of Damocles hangs
for six long weeks
As a succession of pathologists shrug
I can do the math much quicker than that
It’s sixty percent times twenty percent,
Probability times mortality
Twelve percent chance he will not live five years
Our sweet baby boy, turned budding young man
A gun with eight cylinders, one cartridge
Facts melt like lead into a bullet mold
Neither dead nor alive, Schrödinger’s cat,
His fate, an unseen quantum paradox
Not resolved until we open his box
And create life or death by witnessing.
Savoring the taste of each day as a
Maddening flavor of infinity
As we wait for a loud click or a bang
Finally the word arrives:
no cancer.
Spared, this fate of others,
no good reason
Not a part of God’s plan for us
this time
5/22/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Categories:
lesion, cancer, childhood,
Form:
Free verse
Stare beyond her shoulder, long for more,
Capacity is reached, you pour more.
Hitchhiker smiles broadly, climbing in,
Seeking new horizons, it bore more.
Cross the bridge tomorrow, pull the blinds
Sewing up the lesion, it tore more.
Rubbing out the damn spot to conceal,
Sun succumbs to darkness, there’s four more.
Reflect on no return, feel time’s breath,
Transgressions stain your hands, but you’re more.
Categories:
lesion, longing,
Form:
Ghazal
Carcinoma, melanoma sick twins
Inside their innocuous hosts grin
For surface tension brings no chagrin
Another, common diagnosis will time lend
Healthy cell structures to amend
Immune systems with guile befriend
In state of denial, journey begins
Signs not to the human eye hidden
But worry has healthy mind forbidden
Asbestos, carbon dioxide, dioxin
Immune filters will certainly fend
Smoking, over eating, years of gin
Only near life's end wages will append
Per chance through pore seeps pathogen
To rally antibody troops always an antigen
Discolored figment under skin
Bright pigment from allergen
A red rash can dry with benzine
Yellowish splotch need carotene
Brownish bump harmless toxin
Black mole surely genetic origin
Benign cyst lacking needed vitamin
Purplish lesion can cure with Neosporin
Small lump only a gland that's swollen
Goiter rarely takes malignant spin
Categories:
lesion, angst, cancer,
Form:
Rhyme
pioneer esprit de corps front tier brisk.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Open arms and clenched raised fists raise
masquerade diametrically opposed to rodomontade sways
spewing threatening sacred constitution
expounding vaunted values déclassé 1968 degreed phase
Wharton alumni now on warpath to raze
via his bull dozing wreaks havoc on coven daze
ruining complex edifice
usurped storied super power craze
thru humiliation, liquidation of dredging bays
* * * * * * * * * * * *
and justification (viewed thru his warped vision)
scotching inalienable rights reducing to rubble bedrock division
with remainder of flinty stones,
and unlovely bones a wasteland fission
absent without a trace any evidence of Halcyon days,
which abomination, decimation, and gangrenous lesion
joie de vivre, when martial law decree deep incision
heil come rolled up (frightfully with egregious decision.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
the venomous, tenebrous, and rancorous white house
Head honcho viz prez) inside checkered hookahs lighting
one end per slow burn as hoary smoke emanates
in shape of Taj Mahal, then harmless as Mickey mouse
he iz well singed, seared, and scalded like a cook grouse
(yet of course still alive) sent to further douse
him into initiation righting tis basic human coup laid louse.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Acid test whereby he will be sold to Vladimir Putin for bunk
her hilled feather bedding rubles on the dollar, where clunk
key interim held up by cadre of well comb pence dunk
key Kong sated marionettes, which will carry fleshy lunk
dirty deeds done dirt cheap of this unmentionable monk
key villainous uber trumpeter, scabrous, recalcitrant querulous punk!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
keep your finger and toes crossed for the next four years
aware that such laughable ruse and superstitious scares
not one impish bot of fate, but more so gives false cheers.
Categories:
lesion, betrayal, dark, heartbroken, house,
Form: