Best Mysteryme Poems
Almost a month since that fateful night
That I was bitten under the full moon's light.
I am still here but with a yearning
And wonder why a fever is burning.
I feel pulled out into the night's air
Hoping that someone will hear my prayer.
I look up into the nights black sky
And realize why I so want to wail and cry.
For there I see the full bright moon
Hanging there like a golden balloon.
As I look I feel like I am on fire
And know my situation is most dire.
Oh god... most agonizing pain!
As my bones begin to strain
And my flesh begins to rip.
I cannot seem to get a grip.
I open my mouth to scream
But from me that does not stream
Tis something that is so foul
As I recognize it is a howl!
Oh god ...this..can't...be
What is happening to me?
Blood pulses through my veins
As new thoughts slam into my brain.
I have a brand new vision
One that gives great precision.
Oh what a great sense of smell
A feeling of anticipation I can't quell.
I can't even believe my new speed
But it is blood that I do so need.
Time for me to go on the hunt
As I begin to run, I let out a grunt.
I stop and sniff as a scent comes to me,
Oh me oh my who is it? Let us see.
I turn in werewolf form to see who is here
As I thought I caught Mr. Loving's fear.
Tis blood that I do need
Time for me to feed.
He senses me and runs away
I smile as I give chase to my prey.
Mortals mortals everywhere
Of all immortals do beware
Run and hide if you can.
On the loose is this very lycan!
Just for anyone's curiosity this is not being mean to Mr.Loving the III this is my respect
for him as he tapped me for the duos and gave me the challenge for the Haunted
Poets....thanks John
Don't leave me hanging sis !
I came out of no where with an agenda on the mind.
Joining the soup to be near my favorite one
knowing she is not hard to find
a game I did not plan to play
Until he called upon the first round.
giving it my best shot
than came round three and more.
The poets here I started to explore
Not taking my poetry seriously
The writing just happen naturally
now I see why she visits everyone at the soup.
My sister who puts on a show with words
Is adored by her very own group
the Destroyer was my pet name
She gave me when I was young
So envious of her, I broke the head of her only dolls.
using her poetry was the way she tortured me
sitting me down while she read me her stuff.
Inside me she bestowed a poet of mischief
Now I like to tease everyones mind with words
I hate this poem..... Lol..don't read it... It was a joke way back than
(((for contest**Leave me hanging)))
Everyone meets me for certain one day.
I appear when you least expect, and lead you on your way. Don’t ask me any
questions, as I have nothing to say, but when I finally meet you, it will be your final
day.
The job I have is hard, but work will never cease, for I am the one who leads you to
everlasting peace.
I show up when your name appears, be you king or queen or pauper. I must lead
you to the light, father, mother, son or daughter.
My name I hear you ask? Some call me death, or the gate keeper. But for most of
you I am simply known as the GRIM REAPER.
Form:
Again, this time comes.
I shall undress these freckles
and wear your youth in honor.
Long journey of life.
Seconds of sand in my glass
shall fall upon your small hands.
Young beautiful nurse.
My husband older than I;
paralyzed and mostly mute.
My son, young like you;
if you only knew- my son
taught me how to save his youth.
Magic of black spells
decorate my husband's bed
as I touch his head and smile.
These superstitions-
you ignored while in his room,
telling me that I'm the fool.
Soon in you was change.
As a home care nurse you felt
lack of faith would cause him death.
So then you believed-
garlic, myrrh, snake tongues and hymns;
anything to save his life.
Now your sacrifice
is complete; my freckles lost.
Take this mirror and see me!
My son; my husband-
reversed himself with he, just
as you are me and I...you.
Rhythms of Glass
These shards of you
Broken from the whole crystal you
Glittering razors
Of soft defenseless
Leave me begging their wounds
To pierce me more
Each slithers delicate reflection
Holds you
With prescient
To my soul and heart
Longs
With darts and bards of blood
The fragile formed
Such succulent tortures
Dreams of you
Palpable
Fragments slide between
Such pulsing wants
Holographic dust
Of you
In fluid font signatures
Trammel through me
On tiny claws
Of bliss
And their ache
This needle points petal
In these shavings of you
Wafts electric spirit
In me through to you
Suffers desiderium willingly
My collected motes of a star
Burning kisses in my palms
A stinging draft of love
Slake my thirst
In quenching rhymes
Of you
Palpable
Fragments slide between
Such pulsing wantings
I need it all the time
I hunt for it.
I advertise for it.
I answer ads for it.
Anyone else need it as badly as I do?
Oh I'm sure there are a few of you
that would do as I have done and
maybe even worse.
But you can only go so long.
Then that urge will catch up with you again.
This is a never ending thing.
You have it maybe three or four times a day.
Maybe more. Who knows what each person's
need's are but themselves?
But you sleep and get refreshed and BOING!!
There it is again! That urge!!!
And that urge gets greater everyday!
"Oh sure," you say to yourself, "it will soon pass!'
RIGHT!!!!! That need is only satisfied
if you find it and have it!
And have it more than once a day!
I'll bet if I took a survey, more than likely
all of you would confess. You say,
"Not me!" but believe me!!! You have!
And I can prove it if I have too!
Please don't ask me what it is,
because if you do, I'll have to explain
this poem and that's something I could
never do. This poem gives me the willies,
as it should you. GO AHEAD AND ASK!!
JUST DO IT!! And see what answer you
get!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lying on new mown grass
looking up at a starry sky,
the Eye of me cannot see
where the "I" will go when I die.
Believing in neither heaven or hell
within this mind I've had
but only in the Power of Love
that judges no good or bad,
yet brings light and coincidence,
mysteries that can't be explained
like where will I be, this dust of me
when I am no longer contained
within a body form passing
into another life phase.
With all the treasured memories
within me, it surely does amaze
to think its all to nothingness
as "I" become part of The One
and all these eons we all have lived
will be swallowed up in our sun.
It is eternity I seek as
this ego cries out for more
of Me and Mine and never, no never
to land on any distant shore,
but only to always stay here
forever and ever in this world
of beauty and magic and all its
mystery as it is unfurled.
------------------------
Inspired by the following quote from Woody Allen:
"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work;
I want to achieve immortality through not dying."
* There was one midnight hour when I stood alone
Beyond my bed, and before the window of the room
I was the child in the white flannel gown
Watching a white moth fly and a white moon rise
The whole family slept..except for me
They never heard me steal out onto the porch
And climb down the steps into the fresh night air
Under the sequined sky crowned as mistress of our valley
Something whispered to me, in a voice dimmer than words
It spoke with the drum of the cricket's thunder
Faintly capricious, lulling my steps upon the concrete slate
I struggled to learn how to breathe again this hour late
But trepediation vaporized, soft and cunning, wise
Temptation embedded my bare footed quest
Without hesitation, no fear of unknown
Lit by bleached crescent moon,
I knew I was not alone....
Inspired by Gareth's contest "Leave me hanging"
My words are lost on the wind
My steps erased by the sea
Thoughts evaporate in the mist
There is nothing left of me....
Perhaps you'll hear me in an echo
Or catch me in moonbeams that you see
But it will be a fleeting thing
For there is nothing left of me....
How can I begin to say…
to tell…
to bring forth from lips so long sealed,
the silent shiver your touch reveals.
How can I give voice…..
to the sigh held, so tight inside
to the fearsome fear of longing,
the silent shiver of momentarily belonging.
How can I, how can I, speak;
to the gaps that your touch leaps,
to the simple silvery spaces ………
filled by your fingers traces.
Should I? Could I? Will I tell?
of all the many and varied hells….
that the loss of your touch takes me to?
Or just enjoy the momentary spark
of me and you?
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind
Where am I? What’s happening to me? What am I doing here?
I try to remember, my mind is clouded with a terrible fear.
I remember!
I was lying in an operating theatre with lights shining down on me
Slowly I recalled what had happened. I saw the oncoming tree
Headlights blazed and then the darkness. I swerved but couldn’t stop
I saw myself lying in the road, and then I saw a traffic cop.
The light, the bright dazzling light was blinding me.
Wondering in the ether, a restless nomadic spirit free.
I moved in a slow and airless motional way
Following my instincts I fought to stay
The surgeons were trying to save me, I knew this
But now I was free from pain and that was bliss
I remember!
I don’t know how I knew this. I was numb from the shock of it all
I floated along the ether I heard the heavens call
I was out of body and just a soul, a lost soul without a doubt
I wanted to tell the surgeons, I was here but I couldn’t shout
Was this the end? Oh no! This can’t be happening to me!
Here I am I haven’t gone, I am still here can’t you see!
The three magic rocks will save me won’t they? Where are they now I must find
Were they just thoughts in a dying dream or a figment of my mind?
The light is calling it wants me to go I follow the heavenly glow
I am too young to leave this world oh please don’t make me go
I remember!
My journey isn’t over and I plead with the powers that be
You don’t want me to go there yet, you really don’t need me
I may not have been an angel but my heart is in the right place
You can’t take me away from here; I am part of the human race
As I travelled along to my destiny, whatever that may hold
I felt myself being dragged along, I can’t die! I am not that old
This is the end of my journey; I fear I may have died
I don’t know what is in store for me, I really could have cried
The light disappeared abruptly; drawn back to my body so
Did those magic rocks save me? That I will never know
(Entered in Constance La France's contest)
Black and white
two beautiful shadows in the night
I am waiting on mine
in my window, I wait for thee
once the clock strikes one am
then two, then three
I feel a deep rush within
like a wave hitting the sand
where are you?
I am waiting
the thought of your lips
so close to mine
wrapping me, in a bind
your love
your spirit of love
enslaves me in secret chains
nowhere to leave to
but wait here for you
in my window, I wait for thee
the cold, old house creeks
the hush of my sleeping dwellers
I dare not speak your name
into existence
until I see your form
creeping, slowly
toward me, boldly
like a lion stalking its prey
circling my heart, ready to pounce
covertly crawling your body
onto my woven nest of wool and feathers
you whisper, "How I have missed the taste of you"
my body has ached for such familiarity
waiting with the moon
for you to return to me
in my window, I waited for thee
Silent solitude no more
my window is my lovers door
hold me in such tender embrace
no second of tonight
available to waste
his hands trace my body
like a painter with his brush
the moon casts a silver glow
over our warm naked bodies
fingertips graze my lips
gently, as if glass that can break
"pull my hair" I tell him
all my waiting, I want him to give me
all that I can take
every winter kiss
he plants on my back feels
like frostbite
the clock strikes 5 beats
too soon
as we watch the silent moon
shine over our love
in the window I waited for thee
Migrate into the darkness
from this cold dark mansion
only to return tomorrow
a warm kiss to keep you warm
into the night in which you came for me
midnight madness will strike again
tomorrow, in my window, I wait for Love...
Mystery of the Shoe
Dad, I love my old brown shoes with their lace-up strings.
They feel good, and they should
For I wear them everywhere.
You remember them. I’m sure you do.
They have five eyelets on each side,
You always remind me to keep them tied.
Dad, I have a question about these old shoes—
One string always works short.
How does this happen? It was okay yesterday.
It makes me work it back again,
Pull slack from top to bottom and up the other side.
No one seems to know what causes this. Do you?
Perhaps it will always be the mystery of the shoe.
Note-- This always happened to me as a kid, and now as an adult it still occurs.
Does anyone have the answer?
THE JOKER
Come at me Joker you will.
Got your eyes following me like steel.
A piece of me do you need.
Hell, take a limb off my tree.
Why did you leave that note on my wall?
Now I fear this echo-y call!
You left (ME) P.D. afraid of the dark.
"LOOK AT ME!"
I'm hiding under my covers, trembling at your weak bark.
I'm so scared I'm sleeping with one eye open~ and the lights on.
Sigh"
A break in the wind,
Did you follow me again?
I hear this tune playing in my head.
Laughing and Laughing!
I panic with so many tears to shed!
Like a little girl, my hair I twirl.
Why is it me you dread?
This tune is making me shiver and quiver like a kid.
Your watching me slither back into my bed.
This laughing!
This tune I fear!
My face is turning white like the dead.
I keep pressing my hands against my ears.
This tune starts to thicken the flow of my red.
"FINALLY!"
I get the nerve to look under my bed.
What the FUDGE, is this doing under my bed??
Is this a jack in the box??
Joker are you FREAKING with my head??
A joke a laugh this DESTROYER has lied.
You don't got what it takes to make me hide.
Your trap fell into the pit of my abyss.
I've been waiting for you behind close doors.
We both hide behind a mask.
Your head falls upon my checkered board floor.
I am still P.D., and your masquerade is over my friend.
I've come to destroy the joke you left on my end.
A trick--A riddle--A joke--A game--
Lets call it your death sentence.
I already singed my name.
The POET DESTROYER was here : )
And left her name on your headstone of shame.
from: the POET DESTROYER
to: the JOKER *from the pub*
I apologize the next time you see (**). in my poems, such as (SH**T),
Ha Ha that is (shoot) not what you think. ///THANK YOU/// Have a good day...
and enjoy the re-posted of my poem,..LOVE p.d.
Footsteps on the corridor outside my cell.
Thank goodness it's time for the mail.
Been waiting all day long for a letter.
I've seen many days that were better.
March madness has me stressed to no end.
Now if only I can receive a letter from a friend.
Letters calm me like nothing else can.
Even in the sun I couldn't relax and tan.
Maybe a friend from Poetry Soup will hear my prayer.
Do you think there is anybody on there that will care?
Don't cause me more stress my friends.
Write me a letter and we will make all amends.
For Carolyn Devonshire's "March Madness" contest