Best Notches Poems
Rust on padlocked factory gates
from tears of broken men.
Time has stopped on the golden watch,
freeze framed memories of a better past.
Scattered faces breed sour looks
for brothers of nepotism
with handshakes that nearly broke arms.
Crouched in side streets
observing worldly peasants passing.
Slave ganged with vacuum eyes
tripping through life's labyrinth.
Putrid stares of jealous intent
drooling venom; casting adjectives of annihilation,
gouging notches from the family tree
with a calm, icy incision.
Family values dead
incestuous intent
breeding dole queue bastards.
Underground society of leeches
bleeding optimism.
Ghetto laws written in cordite rooms
Switch-blade; preferred method of payment,
for dreams inhaled from crack bongs.
Joining dots of needle tracks
reveals a picture of despair.
Deaths lottery, depression, calling out your numbers.
Jackpot being long awaited sleep.
Categories:
notches, people, social,
Form:
Free verse
Where have you been! you silly man!
don't blame it all on tryptophan!
Maladies from Malta mutATE and Gur G....itate!
as Jimbo watched the Vikings dominate!
It's true my kind heart is totally fake!
football first sweetheart!.... hope your fever breaks!
Dear Charma, you've got snow! make an ice-pack!
it's almost halftime!...... then I'll be back!
And if you grow weary of my attitude!
I'll level a few notches, and be a sweet dude!
The Ref blew his whistle!.... #4 is quite grand!
our sinking tag-poem is back on dry land!
So without much ado!
no need for a chorus!
I tag you my friend, Miss Culverhouse! Please Doris!
(Phyllis tagged John, John tagged DaneAnn, DaneAnn tagged Charmaine, Charma tagged me! and I tag Doris!)
Categories:
notches, funny
Form:
Limerick
A lone desperado rode his lathered cayuse to old Santa Fe.
It was high noon, sweltering hot and dusty on that fateful day.
The handsome young outlaw wore deadly forty-fours on each hip,
And there were multiple notches etched on each pistol grip!
He dismounted and brushed men aside as he strode to the saloon.
By the look on his face, someone faced doom that sultry afternoon!
He ordered up a bottle of whiskey to wet his sun-parched throat,
Downed a couple of shots and gazed around taking note!
For days he had ridden to find his roving sweetheart LeNore.
Now, he spotted her with a cowpoke in a dark corner near the door.
Their eyes locked briefly and she quickly turned away.
Knowing what was to happen, she sensibly got out of the way!
The enraged desperado fingered his forty-fours and lit a big cigar,
Roaring, "You stole my woman and you know damn well who you are!"
Men scattered, chairs toppled and the two men fired their rod!
When the billowing smoke had settled, one had met his God!
Alas, the lifeless young outlaw lay sprawled upon the barroom floor!
Clutching him to her breast with tearful supplications, knelt LeNore.
They buried him in a lonely grave atop a knoll in Old Boot Hill!
Lenore placed petunias upon his grave, declaring her true love still!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
notches, cowboy-western, old, men, old,
Form:
Rhyme
Take watercolour peach, lavender blue
a canvas morning sky, the clouds a frame,
gilt treetops harvest fire, leaves brightly hued
awakened now the arbor tips became.
Lone footprints in the dew on virgin track
save leaping of a brook or crossing stile,
the journey was for now, no looking back
just savouring a moment for a while.
Beyond the Churchyard, entering the glade
across the tired bridge with rusty nails,
stream cuts its way through earth, a gentle blade,
carved notches from my youth upon the rails.
From here onward the footpath comes and goes
it hides and peeks just like a timid child,
in stretches bare, the place each walker knows
and where a hedge gives choice it blossoms, wild.
Now finally the sunrise takes a hold
and burns away the morning's misty glaze
the speckled droplets revel in their gold
on bark and branches clothed in mossy baize.
Adam's masterpiece comes into view
Palladian and clad in smooth dressed stone
beyond, the bridge where Cutler Brook runs through
where ends this walk since childhood I have known.
Switch on the phone and head for home again
thus ends these precious hours of feeling sane.
Categories:
notches, morning, nature,
Form:
Quatrain
with gnarled fingers you fix a bow
gently touch a little nose
hold her tight a second more
before she's running out the door
reading stories till it's late
worrying about her very first date
thinking back when she was small
seeing notches on the wall
a mother's love with all you do
this was once all done for you
close your eyes when all is safe
worry lines that won't erase
no longer can I touch your face
gone for good your warm embrace
I would like just one more time
to feel the love that once was mine
Categories:
notches, love,
Form:
Ode
From fathoms deepest keep, where man,
Shall not dare go, a white toothy giant
Dwells, with hatred's malice, this is a living man
Eater, whom lies at the bottom of the ocean.
In this striking zone, of deadly encounters,
Here where dead men tell no tails, crimson
Currents of the lifeless, float to the top of the food
Chain, and their last breaths of air explode, as
Bubbles above at the surface,
Leaving nothing behind but a bloody residue,
And the wreckage mangled life raft, and one word
Still lingers on the foreboding breeze, as a screams
Echoing drowns into whispers in silences last refrain,
SHARK!
Nay this aquatic Phantom, called Submarine,
Is the gray ghost that stalks within every human
Beings nightmares, just below the waves of our
Subconscious fears, a demon lurks in the darkness,
Of the murky shallows, waiting to take a bite
Out of us.
A thirty-seven foot killing machine, with razor
Blades of jagged ivory's, moving at velocities mega
Speed, heading straight for humanity's beach,
His favorite hunting grounds.
A leviathan of a shark, highly intelligent,
Circling his preferred prey called man,
The hunter is ready to appease his
Insatiable appetite that is never satisfied,
In a carnivores blood bath of mayhem,
Just off shore of paradise.
In hell's kingdom many souls scream from
Below one word that echoes through the
Chum filled surf above, SHARK.
For these are the latest victims, of
The Submarines wrath, and now they do
So warn the living, beware of this sharp
Toothed Giant!
Look into the black eyes of death, take
Notice if he bares the scare of men,
And notches gouge mark on his dorsal fin,
For than thee shall know for sure, if
It is truly the gray ghost,
Known as Submarine.
If thou’ art sure, than say your final prayers unto God,
And inhale one last deep breath of air,
Than swim away, as fast as you can,
For humanity is now on the menu!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
notches, animal, dark, evil, halloween,
Form:
Free verse
Through the lens of a scope,hate watches,
Bam,bam,on the butt,two more notches,
In front of their eyes,life flashes,
The weak at heart,it snatches,
A mustard seed to a melon it grows,
Slowly but surely,engulfing souls,
Cold as snow,consuming flesh like crows,
Demolishing friendship,constructing foes,
Bursting hells door,into our world hate pours,
In the heart of evil,hate soars,
Knocking the LORD,children doors,
TRYING to conquer GODS' Kingdom,from shore to shore,
GOD stretch out his hands,flowing galore,
Love is the challenger,Love is the cure,
Love is the victor,hate no more.....
{Trying} is capitalised intentionally....
Categories:
notches, faith, hope, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
Slipping through the fingers of my mind,
all those vague perceptions
of the "I" inside this body
will provide a strange parade
behind the mirror of my life.
If I have learned from growing old,
the fallacy of endless plodding
from one victory until the next--
celebrating notches carved
down to that last bouquet upon my grave,
then it's no journey after all,
but an immersion into truth.
Make of the day, the captaincy of night,
a starship traveling from light to light
when time is one. Let wonder settle in
where hammer blows are dieing.
Stand off upon the crest of doubt
and watch creation groan,
a universe in manifest;
see the one, the present moment
coalescing in our hands,
for that is where the glory lies.
That is where the resurrection waits,
and only there beside the hidden God
the Alleluias ring.
~
Categories:
notches, philosophy, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Work makes free, a lie
Notches on a sickle, a tally
Death's head obliterates
( Yes, I know that this is not a true Haiku, if we all follow the rules...5/7/5 words per line )
I chose to tweak the "rules" to make the grammar flow better with commas, etc,
If anyone objects, I am happy will delete this haiku. )
Categories:
notches, holocaust,
Form:
Haiku
milestones are marked by photographs
by notches on door casings that show just how grown up we are getting
by midnights spent on front porch stoops with people we only half know drinking mixtures that taste as awful as they should but let the words and movements come fast and steady knowing that it's the only time loose lips are the only things sinking ships
We were children growing up in the backseats of parents who rarely spoke to each other
the children who blossomed into the worst love poems we only pretended to read
As children we played games in the backseat
I spy
middle seat smash
guess which song
then, sometime during the middle of awkward slow dances with fresh braces and clothes our parents picked out we stopped getting up early in the morning
we stopped counting down the days until christmas
we started playing games in the backseat
feet tucked or feet spread
windows down or windows steamed
i've never,
that time changed from clueless to reckless to clothesless lasts only the length of a song
the radio cuts out in some spots around French Hill but still plays Freshman by The Verve Pipe
as we close our eyes
mouths open
breath fluttering like heartbeats
we were no longer children
not yet adults but we knew every line to every song we liked and we knew the most honest places we had and what happened when we held our breathe for too long during the bass line
Categories:
notches, giving, goodbye, heartbroken, high
Form:
Prose Poetry
My mind is already at the finish line
Right before the gun fired
My mind is already at the finish line waiting to foresee
what
the
hell
you
got
beneath that skin
That thin skin gets torn with concealed hell in my eyes
Get out of my way
Relax because it's over before it started
It's death before dishonor
Tarnish my body but don't touch my name
I'd sooner be starving then ask for your aid
So let me constrict my belt
three more notches ‘til hell
It's my dignity that gets me through these
rough times so keep your sleaze to yourself
I keep my head held high when the options are none and all I can do is walk
away from the grim reaper himself
I have never ran from anything in my life and I on no account will
I'll never ask for you to do something I won't do myself
I put my only faith in my death and God because that's the only thing that's certain
right now
Man, your trying too hard
With your hat tilted to the side and your faded eyes
Drugs coursing through your jugular vein
All you can hear is the rhythm of your death in your ear drum right before the
warning shots Lucifer makes to call you home
It makes me sick how you make your girl paint her face every morning
what exactly are you making her hide?
After daubing off Maybelline Eye-shadow and MAC foundation I realize it's me
Damn, it's really me, isn't it
What do you like the attention my counterfeit face attracts
Nah man your just afraid
of the hate in my every pore
before the warning shots I’m going to be waiting for you at the finish line to show
you what the hell I got
Categories:
notches, inspirational, uplifting, urban, death,
Form:
Free verse
Maturity "For Adult Contest"
I walked in to the truth, when I became a man; maturity hit me
Like a cotton sock filled with sour notes and hormone-hubris shouts,
The Women I’d adored I saw as more now; poised and wise with hearts, coal
Mine deep; and best of all now, friends, with whom to speak and leap and laugh
At life, like planets to their crisp earth’s Crops, to reap and play and listen to
A woman’s many layers, complete yet changing like a cyclone, or perfume’s
Flowery flame: but: there’s the sexual thing, a man’s God; the angels his beds, and notches
The fiction that he is boss, and cannot ever cry, or talk about the pain within (a sin) thus
Shields his contrite speech, to favour stormy bluster, with she, his partner in their fair
And stormy lair; but now, the beasts gone out I’ll say, my wife, my lover, my gorgeous friend,
Tougher then a car of shot gun-crazy cops; we’ll rest a while, and now, unlike before, we’ll Share your favorite sugar, your sweetest loving cup; I’ll do for you, what came so hard, for me, in years gone by; before growing as a man:
I’ll listen.
Categories:
notches, growth, love,
Form:
Free verse
several formica red tables
glass shakers of pepper and salt
big plastic tomatoes I wanted to squeeze
and shaped bottles of sarson’s own malt.
netting on all of the windows
scratch marks from chairs on the floor
ashtrays with notches to rest cigarettes
and 'open' and 'closed' on the door.
menus upright in a v-shape
the 'royals' adorning the wall
food through the fog of benson & hedges
with no one complaining at all.
my past was a foreign country
before chains, regulations and brunch
places I knew from those misty-eyed times
are no more and have all 'gone for lunch'.
Categories:
notches, appreciation, change, england, food,
Form:
Rhyme
I've never understood how things work
gears turn and cranks crank
circuits connecting and forming a link
all of this stuff is out of my reach
its all so confusing, fuses and plugs
that plug into sockets
and HUDS that have numbers and belts that have notches
motors that whirr and shake so profusely
only do more to stump and confuse me
I'm not at all mechanically inclined
trust me I know, I've tried many times
I can't understand battery's without power
have to charge for almost a whole half an hour
drivetrain won't drive, forward or reverse
transmission whats that, this sticks stuck in first
the bumpers don't bump and the flashers won't flash
speedometer and fuel don't work on the dash
there are spots under the hood for the fluids it takes
and I don't understand how a carburetor.. carburates?
mufflers to muffle the sounds that it makes
drive shaft to control the turns that you take
key to ignition
ignition to starter
starter to the whatever the hell that you call er'
it's all so disturbing, it bothers me bunches
gas pedals, brake pedals, what are these clutches
automatic and manual drives drive me crazy
has anyone checked the oil here lately
the tires have tread to catch on the ground
hydraulics to make you go up and go down
there are switches and knobs
that serve no functions or jobs
there's gearboxes, spark plugs, fuel tanks and handbrakes
and I couldn't even tell you which one keeps the car in place
how it all works is way beyond me
I have a hard enough time just finding my keys
Categories:
notches, car, crazy, fun, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Any (every) man
can brag about his conquests,
the notches in his belt
little rungs on a ladder
baptized in ********.
Any (every) man
can regale you with stories
of their swordsmanship or cunning
linguistics.
Any (let's just be honest and say all) man
can try to hold a woman down
while pretending to hold her hand.
But it takes a REAL man
to look a beautiful woman
in her emerald moth eyes
and say;
"Will you teach me how to fish? "
Categories:
notches, woman,
Form:
Free verse