Best Muffle Poems
She storms into the room
there is fire in her eyes
and thunder in her step
rage rumbling reckless
She's livid
a live wire of fire
charged
She's on the move
To punish
Is it a rumor or reality?
He has explaining to do...
She rushes at him
Pounding on his chest
words pent up all day
rush out in deluge
drenching him
he tries to pin her hands down
to make her understand
to undo this "misunderstand"
but she pushes him
her pride scorching him
her eyes sparking
passion raging
~~~R*A*G*I*N*G~~~
He pushes her against the wall
pins her hands above her head
"Listen to me!
You got it all wrong!!!"
she pushes against him
breasts heaving
legs kicking
and he's inflamed
her passion burns him
combusts in his mind
and he crushes her with his body
she bites his lips
as they close over hers
he loses his grip
her fingernails dig into his bare chest
trails of red
Growling in pain
He forces her....
kicking and screaming...
down to the floor
Pins her again
"Listen! WOMAN!"
She looks up into his face
breathless
and he goes for her mouth again
Taking her lips into his mouth
sucking fiercely
his tongue tames
fierce...his need to possess
to claim
She fights to free her hands
and they are on his neck
Pulling him in...in
Her lips respond in like
his hand finds her hair
leverage...a grasp
he pulls to expose her neck
And he attacks
kisses...bites...His revenge
His innocence turned to intensity's indignation
she sighs...she moans...
the sounds goading him on
As he loses himself in her cleavage
licking up her perfume
His favorite scent...
sensuous sexy sweet
the storm is fever pitch
in a flash of lightning speed
He lies her bare
and thunders in the thighs
she opens for him...wide
eyes closed
she bites her lower lip
to muffle her cries
as he rides....rides
His victory ride of righteous pride
and she's left
breathless...spent
in a storm of tears
released...repentant
of her insane jealousy
the storm passes over
and in the stillness
he speaks...
his voice shattered...weak
in her presence now calm
meek
"Your anger is beautiful
your rage my relish...
but now...come,"
His voice a whisper
as he pulls her in to him
"Come into my arms
and know the truth....
You're my one and only
My Passion STORM
Is YOU....YOU
Serenity...is overrated."
As unfocused and natural as breathing
As unrestricted as dreaming
Creativity derives from formless –
From liberty
Don’t think
Write now
Correct later
This is poetry in its most perfect form
Just like when you’re taking a test and your first thought is most likely correct
It’s okay to jump from one thought to the next
As long as you have a trail to look back on
You can recall information
Don’t abandon your first thoughts of originality!
Flow and flow with your original thoughts filled with your unique personality
Be free
Be you and you will be surprised at all who will be inspired by you
Don’t muffle your emotion
Don’t muffle your first original thought
Be free
Be you and you’ll be amazed at the hues that leak on paper from you
A collaboration between Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT & Brittany MAD POet Caldwell
No one to talk to
No one to go see
Not even a saleman
To come visit me.
Don't hear from my children
Don't hear from my ex
My life is so empty
My life is a wreck.
I try to look happy
I try to seem gay
But long empty hours
Encompass my day
My life is just mem'ries
Of days long gone by
My head in my pillow
To muffle my cry
I seem apathetic
I seem without heart
How can I continue
To live life apart.
I feel segregated
Alone on the page
I feel oh so lonely
Because of my age.
My mind is still active
My body is strong
But living alone
Is living too long
I sit here and ponder
My heart full of strife
Is owning 3 cats
A reason for life?
I could not see anything wrong
With getting a tan in a thong
But it made Jan ruffle
when it failed to muffle
Spicy chili con carne pong
House just turned one hundred years old.
Wooden floors preserve foot-fossils of ancestors.
A fresh coat of paint cannot muffle yesterday's fireplace carolers.
Our stockings hang beside the stockings of ghosts.
House has a heart- a pulse- layered in golden life tones.
I feel at ease in every honey-smoked room
and perfectly balanced on the uneven floors.
I don't mind the infinite cobwebs
that once were catchers of dreams.
Its three peaks and thirteen stairs
had significant meaning to past tenants.
It means nothing now for certain -but it doesn't matter.
I respect their strong marriage to the pastel past.
There're pockets and niches
whose purpose is long forgotten.
Just like I will soon be.
A discarded tin can in a wildflower field.
Winter evenings that I spend with house
are the warmest I've ever had.
I pray it feels the same about me...
Hanging a stocking filled with endless gifts
from a pale, blue-collared memory.
no more ringing
in my ears always
being Quasimodo
screaming about
the bells
i set my house
phone ring tone
to play a MIDI
Wagner Ride
of the Valkyries
and my cellphone
wake up alarm tone
is Bach's cello
bourree which
peacefully draws
me from my sleep
but the machines
at work later take
over so yelling
becomes
the norm for
speaking so
now i adorn
headphones
after work
to muffle
the rapid
discharge
of shots
at the shooting
range
It is the longest night.
We tread gently through the wood,
Feather moss and beech leaves
Amber soft under foot
Dampen and muffle the rustle of our winter coats.
There's a snap of the twig
And a flutter of woodpigeons lift,
As if applauding the return of the sun.
We watched them fly
Through the crackled glaze of bare branches -
“As our lanterns burn bright,
Our feet seek safe ground.”
We bow low to the Holly,
King of the winter,
Bejewelled with berries and crowned in thorns,
Hosting a chiming of wrens,
Who herald our journeying
In bursts of sing-song -
“Fa-la-la-la-la!”
Onward through the valley
We step into the footprints of darklings,
Deer, fox and badger.
Cross pilgrim paths where flints glint,
As if iridescent tiny tombstones
For the butterflies and dragonflies of summers long passed.
“Our lanterns shine bright,
Our feet find safe ground,
We walk without fear
In the dark all around.”
At the heart of the wood
We gather near the great oak,
And together we light a fire.
Watch as ribbons of flame
Caught from flashes of sparks,
Illuminate our faces in the cinder glow of midwinter.
Alongside us, pixie-cup lichens wassail a promise of spring
An oath as unbreakable as our human cups of plastic and tin.
With mulled apples, honeyed and spiced
We welcome light in.
Feast upon pastries of fruits in a marzipan of delights.
Feeling blessed with good cheer,
We start the new year.
Driving home in the car,
From the road I see stars of wonder.
I see trees a-glisten with tinsel.
Windows lit golden under twinkling eaves.
I am sure I can hear, and the wind whispers, “listen”
As I opened the door,
An echo once more, held soft in the still of night –
“May your light shine bright,
May your feet walk safe ground,
May you seek without fear,
May you like what you found.
Stay near to each other,
Offer comfort and cheer,
Come back to the woods,
Each solstice, each year.”
A vision for the hope of new tomorrow
Though path of faith is often deep and hollow
The dawn will muffle all the pains and sorrows
That sun will light the joy of bright brand new day
In silence, the thick black clouds will come to lay
'Round & round the block she goes
Whose house she stops nobody knows
Curtains are drawn lest darkness appear
Clip-clop the lady in dark we all fear
Neighbors are heard, sobs distant muffle
Drones in the sky cause quite a kerfuffle
What evil minds invent such horror?
I pray Mother Mary help us! I implore
"Cease-fire for one-day" he exhorts with mirth
"Bombings will resume" just after His Birth
12/25/14
© All Rights Reserved
In the morning I was impatient as you dawdled
and I told you to stop being so slow.
You just smiled sheepishly and said,
"Bye Mommy, I have to go!"
In the afternoon I spent most of my day on the phone
while you sang aloud and put your toys in a jovial row.
I motioned irritably for you to be quiet,
"Get your homework done right now!"
I rattled off like a sergeant.
"Okay Mom", you said seeming to understand
and sat straight at your desk with pencil in hand.
After that it was quiet in your room.
In the evening you approached me hesitantly and asked,
"Will you read me a story tonight?"
"Not tonight. Your room is still a mess,
how many times must I remind you?" I said in a muffle.
With your head down you wandered away from me,
but kept your dance-like shuffle.
Before long you were back and peered around the wall of stone.
"Now what do you want?" I asked in an agitated tone.
Without a word you threw your arms around my neck,
kissed my cheek, then "goodnight Mommy, I love you"
was all you said and hurried off to bed.
I felt a wave of remorse come over me.
At what point did I lose the rhythm of the day
and at what cost? I couldn't say.
You had done nothing to provoke my mood.
You were just being a child, busy
with the tasks of growing and learning.
I got lost in an adult world with responsibilities,
burning demands, and flip flopped priorities with
no energy left to give.
You became my teacher even after an arduous day
of tip toeing around my moods.
We have one life to live and I yearn to start the day again.
Tomorrow, I will treat myself with as much understanding
as you have shown me today. I will remind myself that you
are my baby and I will enjoy being your Mom in every way.
Your resilient spirit has touched me so I come to you,
to thank you my child, my teacher, my dearest friend,
for the gift of your love that will never end.
Sestina for a Forgotten Cousin Midget
Kids are midgets
Like gnats, infested around the water
Melons buried in ice
Moms mixing up grape and lime Kool-Aid
Smoke smolders from reddened charcoal
Hot dog buns muffle family reunion noise
From the bath house comes a noise
Like some frozen midget
Who is lost, not smelling the reunion-warm charcoal
Small eyes water
Cousins curl their necks swallowing Kool-Aid
That slips down their throats like ice
The bath house midget shivers, turning to ice
Blue, making a whining noise
He doesn’t beg for Kool-Aid
He was with the other midgets
But didn’t leave the water
Until he thought of barbeque charcoal
Eyes wide, black and warm like charcoal
He doesn’t see the watermelon on ice
Or the purple and green water
Cousin midgets’ fingers play in Kool-Aid with slurping noise
Frightened wet midget
Doesn’t see the hotdogs and Kool-Aid
A parent drops her glass of grape Kool-Aid
Another slips his fork into the charcoal
Runs to the soaked, crying midget
A small cousin sucks on ice
His is the only noise
The sound of slurping tongue and water
The crying one looks at the swimming water
And at the grape and lime Kool-Aid
Picking his nose, a sniffling noise
Hungry for hot dogs over charcoal
And watermelon over ice
Feeling like a forgotten midget
He was in the water when he smelled the picnic charcoal
The others ran for Kool-Aid and melon ice
Reunion noise forgot their cousin midget
decided
to take a look
within
scary bones fighting
trying to escape
dim
sounds of angels flying
just outside my window
to places
that pissed my bones to go
So what
i forgot how to see
i’m trying desperately
So what
heels on blocks of concrete fever
now just sinking into a lotion
of grey lather
click clack click clap
there's my tribe
bowed heads praying yes praying
into cells
containing minds
distracting from
reality or maybe fantasy
or
may be
we’ll never
know
one
ever came back
to say so
So what
that I make my bed every day
So what
no one ever comes
to feel the sheets
of my stretching
So what
that no one knows
at the metro
there was a dusty young girl
trying to pull her pant legs up
over her waist-ed mind
red wild hair
that would scare
red hair wild
glances met
she knew my name
she floated it as we passed
i heard
her see
when I was there
you remember
of course, you do
And what
i heard the clarity
in the attempted muffle
she stared at me
sort of growled
i don’t
remember
choosing this
do
you
how long
is this mess
supposed to last
do you
remember
standing in that
angelic line
wait a minute
So what
i know the place was divine
So what
but I’m surely pissed
So what
was I drunk to accept this
So what..
you
were first
to say yes
The Nefarios Scream
Camping in isolated lands of parks and creeks
Untold experiences of adventurous beauty
Nefarious acts eclipse joys of freedom
Blowing up cars to bar any escape
Tents knifed through in the darkness of the night
Wakening frightened sleepy eyed tourists
Throats slit of those who rebel and abuse
Serial killer chases the gutsy that escaped
Muffle the defiant eye to jab out screams
Clanging chains, barrelled guns, hammers et al
Adorn his barricaded blood stained dungeons
Adventures in foreign land turn uglier than nightmares
Destinations of destined stumbled into zones horrific
Families and lovers pine with unrequited inquiries
Investigators baffled over the ambiguous maniac
Who finger by finger tortured the life out of tourists
Exulting over his power of creating a world of zombies
A bomb he carried to blow up the next tourist van
Helpless travellers plea's rippled his blood
Slow and steady steps he came closer to van
An unseen rattler uncoiled rattling his next step
Hissing his breath away in the loudest scream
Balveen Cheema
September 20, 2015
Contest: The Dark and Twisted
Sponsor: Nathan D
I'm
I propose a toast, will you hold up your glass?
The past has clouded both our minds, but also it has made us wiser.
So here's to the future, but what does that hold?
The future is a door of mystery.
It will knock and you will have to decide if you want to open it.
The knock gets louder and louder, the louder the knocking gets
the more you stop to think.
The past hurt so much, the decision is hard.
Wondering, what does the future have in store for me?
Is it anything like the past? For if it is, leave me alone!
Then you expand your mind, your thoughts ring out.
The knocking gets louder and louder with more speed.
Your hand is reaching for the door knob, suddenly the door blows open
throwing you back, you look up to only to notice another door yet,
this door is bigger, and the knocking begins once more, this time its harder
than before, you cover your ears to muffle the sound.
then the door opens slowly.
Fragments of love, lust, hate, and hurt fly from this door.
the tears running from your soft eyes trinkle down your face on to the floor
you look only to see three more doors. they are labeled love, hate and hurt;
but there is only one key.
Love your afraid of, hurt is a friend, and hate is a mixed emotion.
So, now your left on your own, many questions need to be answered.
The decision is yours, but which door am I behind.
Pardon
From dawn's early light, a gradual state takes flight
Idiosyncrasies dance in my head
Break in prayer, then back again
Could it be the past or is it the present?
It's this part of me I've come to resent
Call the doctor, no call your mother
Call on God there is no other
Do the finest work you've ever achieved
Then admit to the world you have a disease
Take what is prescribed and you will be stable
It's these in between times that destitute my cradle
For a day like today is like the life of a snail
A woodpecker in a steel mill, a beach, a shore and a whale
To spade the ground and go deep would be trouble
With images so vivid, yet the present they muffle
To give light to all that I have seen
To dare to reach an infamous, perfect dream
Is the life that I would choose
Where in it no one would lose