Best Lower Jaw Poems
To Eat A Peach
Spring is here.
The delicate tree blossoms replace
the delicate white lights of Winter.
From the petals fruit will grow.
Pears, plums, apricots, cherries,
nectarines...
Peaches.
I set the unripe soft rose and yellow
orb on the windowsill.
Two days later I tenderly lift it
and gently squeeze its warmth before
I wash it.
Biting into it...
the sweet liquid is Ambrosia.
The juice runs down my chin onto
my tee.
I greedily suck the peach’s flesh dry.
I daydream as I munch.
Peach cobbler, peach pie with a lattice crust,
peach shortcake, peach muffins,
stewed peaches, peach tea bread,
slices on your cereal, slices in a bowl with cream.
OR...only for dessert?
How would a
chicken breast soaked in a peach marinade taste?
My taste buds begin chattering.
Summer’s here!
corn on the cob, okra, tomatoes:
small ones that pop in your mouth
and big beefy wedges that
garnish crisp celery slices, carrot medallions,
tender Bibb lettuce, sliced mushrooms, cucumbers,
asparagus, broccoli, Vidalia onions, cauliflower...
Watermelon, blueberries, cantaloupe,
strawberries, honeydews, raspberries...
Juicy hot dogs, spicy barbecue, thick charbroiled hamburgers,
hot German potato salad, 3-bean salad, macaroni salad,
potato chips and French onion soup dip,
soft pretzels dipped in brown mustard, popcorn...
chocolate chip cookies, Snickerdoodles,
strawberry shortcake,
chocolate cake with red, white and blue frosting for the 4th,
apple pie
— softball, Mom, doggies —
I awake with a start. There is drool
on my pillow.
Another day begins but it’s really
not another day.
It’s the same day I’ve been living
since 1 May 2017 ~
The day I let the dentist pull
out the last 5 teeth I had
in my lower jaw.
And as I come to consciousness
my tongue pushes
against and spills out over the
the soft toothless tissue that burns constantly
and is covered in a thick gooey saliva ~ place a
teaspoon of Elmer's
glue in your mouth ~ if
you care to have a taste
of my reality.
Summer’s here.
Clear your palate.
Clean your plate.
Barbara Dickenson
1 May 2018
- [ ]
Categories:
lower jaw, anniversary, body, change, courage,
Form:
Bio
In a canoe casting with a weighted rubber worm
Felt something aggressive thing hit my hook
Up it came through the water’s surface
And shot up more than three feet in the air.
After some displays of acrobatic leaps and drives,
I finally got him at the side of my canoe
Banging, thrashing like a bobcat in a box,
Whispered, “Hello, I believe in catch and release”
The bass stopped thrashing, listened intently
Then said, “never thought I’d meet one like you”
I grabbed the mighty fish by the lower jaw
Holding it up for a closer look. removed the hook.
Wiggled off to parts unknown of the cool lake
It was happy to be free, I was happy to catch.center>
+++++++++
Date: March 7, 2014
Free Verse
12th Place win
Contest : by Caleb Smith
Categories:
lower jaw, fishing, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Dr. Ronald is a well known sadist.
He hardly laughs to say the least.
He read poem by Hinshaw
And broke his mouth lower jaw
Laughing about with eyes veiled with mist.
20/11/15
For the contest: Funny poet.
My funny poet being Robert L. Hinshaw.
Categories:
lower jaw, humor, poets,
Form:
Limerick
I come up behind you
from the shadows,
laying my left claw
across your stomach,
the very tips
barely breaking the skin
and you gasp
as I slide
the backside of my right
down your cheek,
placing my lips
against
the back edge of your ear,
running my tongue,
delicately
down the back of it
sending a tremor
through your body.
I nip
the top of your ear
between two of my canines
hardly drawing any blood
and you flinch
into me,
pressing yourself
so tightly into my embrace
that we feel as one.
I coil my fingers
around your lower jaw
and turn your chin
away from me,
exposing
the tender skin of your neck
to my personal whims.
As I graze your moon white skin
with my fangs
you release a whimper
that sends chills
down my spine,
almost turning my knees
to water.
Sliding my left paw
down your right hip
and thigh
slowly,
my other
gripping the back of your neck
I spin you to the ground
beneath me,
press my lips to yours
softly at first
then almost viciously
as you begin to hunger
for the taste of me.
You bite my lip
splitting it
then suck on it
pulling my blood from it
and as our tongues
dance together
my mind drifts
in the euphoria
that oozes off of you
soaking into my pores.
Pushing me up
you cut into my chest
with a spike tipped finger
then sink your fangs into the wound
and begin to drink.
Throwing back my head
I savagely howl
from the pure ecstasy of it all,
shaking the very ground
we lay upon,
vibrating the moon.
You stop for a breath
and I snap my jaws
into your flesh
beginning my own feast,
biting into thigh,
hip,
belly,
breast,
and I work my way,
back down
to your inner thigh.
You tangle your claws
in my hair,
holding my head in place
and scream,
splitting the heavens.
Categories:
lower jaw, fantasy, passion
Form:
Romanticism
*Inspired by Cheryl Hoffman’s “The Skin We’re In” — Go read it!
On a turkey it's called a wattle
on a moose, "the bell," (not “the bottle”)
Those batlike things?
(too small - see wings)
dewlaps*, odd appendages we coddle
We're prisoners of the skin we’re in
some have it thick, some have it real thin
It may seem quite brittle,
when splatted with spittle,
it sloughs right off, again and again
So gobble some buffalo wings
fluffle up your wattle and sing,
“Don’t be obtuse.
I’m not a moose!
I’m a turkey, you big ding-a-ling!"
(*A dewlap is a longitudinal flap of skin that hangs beneath the lower jaw or neck of many vertebrates. While the term is usually used in this specific context, it can also be used to include other structures occurring in the same body area with a similar aspect, such as those caused by a double chin or the submandibular vocal sac of a frog. Source: Wikipedia)
Categories:
lower jaw, nonsense,
Form:
Limerick
We lingered too the passenger like
awaiting the snake that runs on dike
We sat, hands tied to lower jaw like
Mom waiting for her dour child to spike
For hopefully the rain which pours like
Husks husked, bowl tilted by girl old tyke
Alas! Drought came and left fields empty
Our leaves wildt too tired to agony,
offered by weather adversity
And we, seedlings, fold to sleep gradually
All my neighbours died too and early
They had said, 'Dying is birth, buddy.'
I defied and stayed alive like Odyssey
The sun scorched and bruised my everywhere
I came red and food I could not bear
I bent as though I was to crawl there
Searching for water my thirsts impair
All adversities devoured to scare
On me as was the one standing their dare
I can't again it's too much on me
My hands cut; I'm now an amputee
By burning blown winds by high degree
Like Othello, it's that now's my zee
Hoping to rise when a drop drops free
For dying is birth said my buddy
BY: Yussif Hassan Cissey
8/01/18
Categories:
lower jaw, confidence, courage, hope, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
At Customs
Delayed fatigued grumpy and miserable there was I
yet another queue at Oliver Tambo on arrival another
Check scan body search and
mind games in my baggage
Damascus had been an unusual holiday destination
had firmly attached a couple of splinters just a bit of
Shrapnel trauma displacement
on the movie of my soul
Amena breathing the rubble with one foot detached
collateral damage digitalised toes in my camera
Home still smouldering siblings
Riham and Yaman with Allah now
Sayid coughs up the message of
how the planes came planes came
again and again planes came planes
then mother and father had vanished
Assel unable to talk it is difficult to
speak without jaw when brain leaks
upper jaw lower jaw who
cares who minds the statistic
So many images am I importing the
injustice depravation guilt shame
‘Not in my name’ nameless no
frame in the hierarchy of evil
Destruction of a sovereign nation and
the king makers in the global North West
export and import in trauma and transit
memories narrative existential angst
In the queue at the airport OR Tambo
and the tambourine major plays human
beings sacrificed on the altar of a simple
custom of exporting terror and malice
I am importing so much on my return
from Damascus yet choose the line
‘Nothing to declare’ but sorry I cannot do this
there is no time and you don’t want to know
So much pain so much anger on my mind…
but I have too much to declare
Categories:
lower jaw, immigration,
Form:
Free verse
I hear that after she tried to break me
she herself broke down.
A friend of a friend said he distinctly heard
her main-spring go.
They say she broke
in the London underground.
while waiting for the West Ham tube train.
One of her many prodding elbows
sprang a leak,
a sharp knee ground to a halt,
a sprocket in her head
escaped out of her open mouth.
She just toppled there on that platform
into an oily mess.
If I had known at the time
I would have run to her bedside,
however she deteriorated fast they say.
Her lower jaw tried to swallow words
made of toothless cogs.
Her ribcage sprung, gaping open
to reveal the dangling prune
of her heart.
Eventually she was written off
and declared beyond repair.
It was all so very sad.
I also was damaged,
my mangled remains
were displayed for weeks
in a small art gallery
dedicated to avant garde
performance art.
Categories:
lower jaw, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Leatherback, murray river, matama
Hawksbill, common musk and spiny soft shell.
Loggerhead, Atlantic green, alligator snapping
Turtles are we, in every country we dwell.
The largest sea turtle reaches eight hundred pounds.
A leatherback whose love for jellyfish abounds.
Alligator snapping is one fourth of leatherback’s weight
Uses pink fleshy flap of lower jaw for bait.
The difference in turtles fascinates me.
I can picture the loggerheads running to the sea.
No matter what country you decide to make your home
There is a turtle close by, even if it is in this poem.
Categories:
lower jaw, animal, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
Everything is an issue with my friend
I hope she is a girl as she is known to claim
She thinks she is Marilyn Monroe so
Think on my pretty
In fact there is but one good eye
Like a lighthouse beam beckoning
About the middle of the head
Large with yellow, pus oozing on her tiny face
Sometimes it looks cloudy or milky white
Under moon light it stands out frightening
She orders me to give her money...a gun
It must be time to make love
Or take her dancing in the dark
That makes perfect sense for the digestion
A large tooth stands out yellow gray
Turning green and festering today
It protrudes from her lower jaw
Stands as a monument to former days
When there were plenty
From the vicinity of the mouth she shouts
Commands me be still while she takes aim
I am a target of her love
She screams at me to pay the rent
Slurs her words, most unheard
Pretending to be sultry
My girl is far from pretty
The distance is from here to Mars
Ugly defines her nicely
Skinny is her only attribute
Shoot me!…. Shoot me now my pretty!...
Categories:
lower jaw, abuse, appreciation, beauty, celebrity,
Form:
Free verse
Paleontologists collect
a lower jaw,
a skull
and ribs,
cleaving belly
of the Sahara Desert.
They provide the fossils
with flesh of fantasy.
This is
an artificial rebirth.
*Mansourasaurus was
not ferocious
like a fanatic
or a rapist.
It lived
with herbivorous mind
and showed
‘Might is not to fight.’
With a natural armor
of bony plates
in skin,
it traversed
the war-free world.
Mother never squirmed
under its feet.
The remains remain
with wisdom.
*Mansourasaurus – a giant dinosaur lived in the Sahara Desert
First published in The Literary Hatchet
Categories:
lower jaw, animal,
Form:
Free verse
Beneath the coat of icing, buried wrinkles squeak;
My teeth at misleading mirror - hotly clatter,
While an uprooted tooth on lower jaw – bewails.
I swear, this corroded mirror, I will batter.
Rhyming scheme: ABCB / 12 syllables in each line
Oct. 8, 2020
Rithimus Divisa 9 Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Gregory R Barden
Original poem: Decay Through Mirror
Posted on Sept. 26, 2020 for the contest: Writing Challenge – Decay – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
lower jaw, mirror, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
The night
has a bluish tint tonight
from the exceptionally
brilliant
full moon,
sky,
cloudless
with a slightly brisk breeze
coming from
the direction
of where the last cemetery
I passed was,
“the breath of the dead”,
I think it might be an omen.
Barely a sound
is heard
in this still end of day
as I reside
under a large,
scraggly scrub pine.
I survey the store front
where I have located
my last two targets,
it seems like yesterday
when I took down the first
and now here I find
the last two
(deserving)
in a pool hall ,
well,
I could wait
for them to leave,
but since
this might be it
for awhile,
I’ll just go in
and turn it
from a pool hall
to a slaughterhouse.
I extend six tendrils
down my back
Like a cape
allowing them
to sway in the breeze
as I chew
on a hunk of flesh
I found in my pocket.
Surrounding myself in illusion
I leisurely
walk to the front,
go in,
then press my right palm
to the glass
sealing it with a black panel
then allow it
to expand,
blocking all the windows
so slowly no one notices.
I spot one by the bar,
the second
on the other side of the room
with someone,
I lick my lips in anticipation,
oh I’ve finally
come into
what I deserve,
tonight I shall
make the walls run red.
Casually,
I head to my closest prey
and stand directly behind her
with an evil grin
spreading across my face,
when she turns around,
she recognizes
the old face I’m wearing
and she goes white.
Raising my right index finger
to my lips
to make a shushing gesture
I bring my left hand
to her chest
and encase her
in a restraining band
and push her
into a stool,
she seems about to scream,
or cry,
neither will do………..
yet.
With a finger
I send a pin of blackness
through her lower jaw
and silence her.
Almost strutting
I go to the back door,
send a restraining band
through the handle
and bury it
in both sides of the frame.
Categories:
lower jaw, angst, death, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
auditioning what I've never said before
imagining what I've never saw beyond my shore
my definition of making ends meet
once you've seen the obscene lift your lower jaw off my scene
the statue in me craved for some UV
can you ban the tan
seems like little more than ancient was the plan
fundamental lighting
very very frightening
passing life through alabaster
it's a melancholic disaster
running backwards
looking forwards
he's got nothing you need
yet for him you're gonna bleed
how do you wanna your pain
regular is the new plain
this is the future, no more blood man will run on rain
surreal tattoo looking just like real vein
things will never be the same
the day the stops witnessed the tracks leave the train
search in my eyes for your uncharted terrain
Tamer Hossam
Categories:
lower jaw, art, culture, emotions, imagination,
Form:
ABC
Concerns
silent bottom sound
passivity
totally paralyzed
anxious
Confusion,
feeling of unreality
the brain boils
drop the lower jaw
... lost direction
07/11/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Categories:
lower jaw, angst, confusion,
Form:
Free verse