Best Limbed Poems


Premium Member Blessed Outcomes

Decades of mystic dreamers have worn the path
trod across the leys, coupling pairs within Stonehenge.
Beneath the Wiltshire skies cornflower blue; they lust,
lotus-eaters, loose-limbed, seeking a blessed outcome.
With longing strides-- they reach, climbing earthen berms 
to add their lovers song to move with the cycles.
Some take the blessed day, others wait the pearly moon.
See her so fairy fair dressed in naught but moonlight?
Watch his black-haired beast rise once encircled by her arms.
Back pressed against the dolmens, her heels wreath his waist 
as virgin blood runs red like the holly berries
to feed the holy earth, she'll bear his child; she trusts.
Categories: limbed, desire, devotion, love, mythology,
Form: Alexandrine

Premium Member Under the Waxing Moon

The Moon is almost...

Sullen skies forewarn the frozen shroud.
 Gale November winds sway bare limbed
trees, whistling in chorus with arrows of
Geese straining to steer south.

The familiar sound of the revolving lead 
Goose never wavers, but for tonight.

 A strange howl emanates from the current
commander, abandoning the customary 
bugling, not elongated; like a hound dogs
lament, but crisp & short, a howl.

 Alarm bells ring in the memory recall of my
dna...built-in decipher mechanisms fail,
all of this happening in split-seconds.
What prompted this auditory change?
what does this alternate sound signal?

 As quick as I heard it this twilight fall
evening, the Geese passed, the course they
were set upon unknown, circumstances
they encountered, not of my world,
the only sure thing,

 is wonder.

12/01/17
Categories: limbed, mystery,
Form: Alliteration

Premium Member Undergrowth with Two Figures

after the painting by Vincent Van Gogh


Does she even exist? Doubting her own reality,
seeing herself vanishing in undulating undergrowth,

fading and merging into summer-scorched scenery.
But cold lurks there beneath shafts of sunlight, phallic trees...

He wears the night underneath, a fabric of dark and unease,
his hand heavy upon her arm, silver-tongued charm

smooth as the silver-limbed leafless trees,
disappearing now on a twisting breeze...

Sinuous stems suffocate, writhing and thrashing;
convulsions of shuddering green and yellow.

Enticed ever deeper into flailing flowers,
evanescing into foam of frothing flora...

Did she ever truly exist? It's doubtful.
The flower-frail faceless and nameless

will always be lured and laid, invisible,
dissolving, under bare, phallic trees.
Categories: limbed, abuse, dark,
Form: Ekphrasis

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Nature Heals

How blue the sparkling water brightly shone!
Stream depths of clarity held my stunned eyes.
I felt my smile grow full and skimmed some stones
while sun rays lent light ribbons to my tries.

The shoreline mixed rocks, clover, sticks and dirt
before it faded to soft, velvet grass
and endless trees grown full limbed, tall and pert.
While reaping all, I saw a jumping bass.

I loved how energy there loved me back.
Just nature gives such boundless lifts to me.
Her highs keep my esteem on healthy track
to heal since heartbreak thoroughly took me.

In earth's scenes nature aids all pain did hone.
How blue the sparkling water brightly shone!
Categories: limbed, earth, feelings, heartbroken, lost
Form: Sonnet

Outside Closed Circles

"Outside Closed Circles"



Tall limbed stories
are stilts
to walk softly 
aloft the shallows
casting shadows 
bruised in purple

a double degree 
in stray fellows

luxury is the 
comfort calling
in front of all the Lost
pressed between pages 
keeping safe between lines
transparent cowards

blooming now
between pages

kisses soft and velvet
like moist dew drops
on forgotten blue flowers 
that unfurl skywards
fresh and smiling 
lick the golden syrup
of his sun

Lux 
is 
Love

Could this be
Life again

Beginning 
again 

unravelling
before the feet
of the somnolent casual 

outside 
closed circles
and 
black shadows 
under the eyes of 
the thinned skinned

Is this the 
Begin Again?

the true story 
unravels


(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)







"Wake Up Alone" / Amy Winehouse
https://youtu.be/bS8-qQojlhA







“Drowned in me,
we bathe under blue light
His face in my dreams 
seizes my guts
He floods me with dread
Soaked in soul, 
he swims in my eyes by the bed
Pour myself over him, 
moon spilling in
And I wake up alone “









LYRICS/ "Wake Up Alone", Amy Winehouse
https://genius.com/Amy-winehouse-wake-up-alone-lyrics
Categories: limbed, journey, life, love,
Form: Romanticism

Premium Member Gifts From God

Her tears lost to rain ...
Dorothea stood in the cold mist,
her habit soaked through, though she cared not.
The gray markers spread out before her like stone soldiers at attention,
as if she were a commander of the dead ...
'No', he would have corrected, 'You are my gift from God' -
her soldier, as cold as stone, now long dead,
deep in the frozen earth at her feet.
She ached for his touch ...
it had been twenty-two years since he'd left for the war -
since he'd been killed protecting his platoon,
yet the wound was as raw as ever,
and the longing for his smile burned a hole in her deepest being.
God was the only thing that made it bearable,
and that devotion was for his sake alone, not hers -
not the children she tended to at the abbey,
not the twisted-limbed gentlemen at the veteran's center,
not the numberless parishioners she had comforted over the years,
not the long lines of homeless at the shelter,
not even the family members she loved and missed back home,
but his ... and his alone.
She read the gravestone aloud,
as she had done so many times before:
"Lieutenant Theodore James Crowley, Jr"
Theodore ... Gift From God, she thought to herself ...
Though she hadn't known it then, it was what her name meant, too ...
almost as if it had been planned, somehow ...
as if it was ordained by the heavens ...
almost as if God had created them ... for each other.
Which, of course ... He had.






N/A'd May 27, 2020, 4:05 AM
In the "Nun" Poetry Contest

N/A'd June 5, 2020, 11:24 PM
In the "Select 5, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest

~ 3rd Place ~  in the "N/A Re-Run 7" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories: limbed, death, heartbroken, loneliness, lost
Form: Free verse


Lady By the Sea

I saw her standing there
facing the sea.  Her diaphanous
gown draped with gentle folds in
harmony with the breeze.

She seemed poised for flight 
like a long limbed ballerina.
I saw the surf break into an
avalanche of foam and felt

fear that made me huddle and quake.
Tumbling waves licking at caves
mad and destructive.
Her gown became a black shroud

and her sins died in my bosom.
I could not look at her face
lest I see myself and
become astonished.
Categories: limbed, confusion, mystery, sea,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Mother Nature's Gowns

Nature changes her gown
to gossamer chiffon 
pastels to welcome spring.
Daisy wreath in her hair
when finch and robins sing.

Nature changes her gown.
A bright yellow sundress.
Fabric print with flowers,
blooming when well nourished
by afternoon showers.

Nature changes her gown
to dark shades of mourning
for all the falling leaves,
windswept from bare limbed trees.
For their loss, Nature grieves.

Nature changes her gown
as she dances o'er earth
in frock of winter white.
Snowflake crystal bodice
sparkling jewels each night.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: limbed, nature, seasons,
Form: Monchielle Stanza

The Perfectionist Is Listening

The Perfectionist is Listening

the rich are committing suicide
and taking us with them
the prosthetic limbed bastards
Fort Darwin tottering on fewer stilts
once the masters of the universe
presently picking through garbage
looking for an Icarus to pilot
some way back among the clouds
their telepathic goon squads 
armed with the hard on of God
squat in the darkness of doorways
lightning strikes all around
even their machines were clairvoyant
several thousand watts went up my leg
shorting out the only attention span I own
left me perforated but not lacy
wearing all my masks all the time 
fragments of self are selves
in a bulemic deconstruction
where form and content 
mud wrestle incessantly for attention
on the crazy train to 3 color hell
the protagonists the antagonists
fornicators masturbators liquidators
pariahs and unlicensed poets
preaching hellstone and brimfire
apparently the ancient gods still rule 
in their madhouse heaven
petulant and stupid gods 
thought their figures included all the angles
sword point conversions gun point perversions
now their carcasses are steppingstones
what quirk of an infinite being
makes this burning plague village 
of a planet so alone and necessary
of course none of this is protection
it's psywar out there kids 
better find where they hid your dossier
mesmerized of the world unite
you have nothing to lose
but your failed methods of addressing reality
said his twisting tongue
struggling for ratings like any media
the soul cannot erase it can only go sightless
a phantom trapped in melancholy
when we were built to dance 
with the twinkling stars
he finally learned to undestroy memory
being an ascended master of non sequitur
carried aloft in the arms of Mother Goose
his metabolic hurricane of why
an inferno of intrigue and superstition
our embryo-headed UFO ruling class 
have me inside their fence of skulls
an investment in diagram futures
the idiots



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories: limbed, slam, universe,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Virgin, the Villian and the Black Dog

When first freed from mother's skirt, still arrayed in white,
dew kissed, peach sweet, blush cored, I dove into
love,  Persephone pierced; where ox-eyed daisies grew
within a field abreast a Roman ... in daylight.
Dry merlot overcast the blooded spot on site 
where passion flowered upon the box stitched blue
quilt Grandmother with constancy had imbued.  
Yet, youth was not enough to make the man contrite.

An omen ran through red bee balm, a hound of black
long-limbed, loosed to pursue the brazen few who dared 
to lay unabashed in sunlight, the farmer stared back
from the porch; he saw them run, saw yarrow in her hair.
Ill fated yes, but first love is honeyed and that is a fact;
nothing's sweeter than a maid undressed in open air.
Categories: limbed, lost love,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Thirteen

One and three are 4; 
nothing is unlucky about the number 13.

three and one or one and three; 
it adds up to 4,
 when reduced to a singular digit.

Numerology reveals the truth about things 
and four is a healthy number.

The mystery of 13, is that so much can be conjured, 
in the human imagination.

four is power; 
four corners of the Earth have four angels,
to watch over them.

Four leaf clovers are lucky; 
the power of fortune, 
is a strong faith that manifests.

four branches complete the circle of the celtic cross; 
all crosses are four-limbed.

Four aspects, are the colors on the medicine wheel;
offering healing, to those who comprehend its gifts.

Four is wholeness; 
one and three, three and one; 
four is the offspring of the 13.

Divide it by twos and see the a duality of all revealed.
Categories: limbed, metaphor, poems, poetry,
Form: Prose

The Leaning Tree

The leaning tree has battled many a storm
The scars are plain to see
It's crooked trunk and twisted branches
are a living testimony

As I pass in dreary weather
I always take a second
To rest behind his broad limbed back
hidden from the wind

When at last the summer comes
I lean upon that curving bark
There to share my favourite book
Beneath his leafy arc
Categories: limbed, nature, seasons
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Abra-Cadaver

Drip, drip
Drip, drip
Melts the soiled soul onto
A dusty field of abandon

Fenced in by human limbed pickets
Yanked from the graves
Of broken hearts

Skeletal branched silhouettes
Clatter above the bloodless
Hole in the ground

The Ravens hide in the shadows
The shadows hide behind stone crops
The crops provide bountiful skulls

What is the illusion without a live audience?
Who, or what heard the solemn incantation of
Abra-Cadaver?
Categories: limbed, death, horror, magic,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Snowman-Iac

The snow lay heavy on the ground
‘Til just below the knee
Reflecting blue sky all around
As far as we could see

The temperature was just right
For the snowball fans
But we had set much higher sights
On building a snowman

After rolling the hefty base
Down a long, gentle grade
It moved to a different place
Then where it was first laid

Then when the lumpy head was plopped
That ball started to split
Yet became whole before it dropped
Without us helping it

Before adding the face or arms
We went in to get dry
And when back out we were alarmed
Coz somehow it had eyes

I took the carrot in my hands 
And jabbed it were it goes
But since so sharp my palm got jammed
So blood ran down its nose

The sky took on an eerie glow
And clouds were darkly trimmed
Then while we looked up, don’t you know
Our snowman became limbed!

I sprung backward, but was too late
Its arm grabbed my collar
And quickly I was forced prostrate
By, snowman-iac mauler

Just like that, my problems doubled
As I was no fighter
But, by chance to ease this trouble
My friend had a lighter

Next I felt a frosty river
Flowing right down my back
I cringed since the flame delivered
A snow melting attack

I struggled in its icy hold
Then punched it in the mug
Could anyone believe if told
We made a large snow thug

Its wood arms swung at us wildly
Knocking our teeny torch
That’s when my friend acted childly
Hiding below the porch

I yelled, “Go and grab some more wood,
To make this fire hotter.
And hopefully then, as it should
It will turn to water!”

There was some loss in faith and blood
Melting snowman-iac mauler
I then said standing in the mud,
“Let’s make the next one smaller.”

For Any Poem Number 31 contest
Categories: limbed, horror, snow,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Bare Limbed

bare limbed althea
waiting for spring's call...
red cardinal flies
Categories: limbed, beauty, nature,
Form: Haiku
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