Best Pincers Poems
When sleep deserted me
I crawled out of my bed unseen
To delve into the crevices of the dark
With the curiosity of an explorer
And the near comatose of a somnambulist
I walked up and down the steep slopes of the night
Like a night watchman
Without a lantern in hand.
When my legs grew weary
I sat on a rock
Covered with moss and lichen
Staring into the dark night sky
With no constellation of fireflies
Flashing their torches anywhere
Sitting there, in that bewitching night,
I listened to the song of night birds,
The rustle of leaves,
The howl of wolves,
And the night wind’s rave.
Looking into the dark pockets of the night,
I thought of human mind, a deep gorge
With many an uninhabitable corner
Where serpent desires lie coiled,
Scorpions crawl with toxic pincers
And predators roam to prey upon helpless victims.
The mystery of the night absorbed me,
Her muffled sounds, her dark beauty
And her elusive charm, like thick night fog,
Percolated deep into my consciousness,
And I floundered in a fathomless sea,
Swirling in her eddies and currents.
It whisked me away to lands far…far!
But on being washed ashore,
I was in a creative delirium.
I am now in No Man’s Land,
Where everything is in a coma of stillness,
Where no light glimmers,
No door ajar
And no one in sight!
Here the poet in me breaks open,
The somnambulistic comatose,
And down way flow my thoughts in indelible ink
Which only I can read.
Like a night bird,
Roosting among the branches of a tree,
I sing of my heart aches,
Of my yearnings and longings.
In the barely audible whispers of the night,
My song reverberates in the eyeless abyss down,
And in the dark desolate valleys below.
People say, ghosts walk the earth at night.
Oh! I am not scared!
I am not eager for the dawn to break,
Nor want to put my pen down!
I toil and I slave
in the shadows—
exhaustively I emerge
to your rescue
when you feel
the sting of grief
and the hot torrent
of tears.
I cry out to you
to behold me in the light,
but my mouth is closed
to pincers and restraining webs.
How it hurts
everything that I am—
that you see me only
in your pain.
Unswallowed lumps of lobster immodest
Crustacean returns to pincers persimmon
Waitress whisk indiscernible clears linen
Custom of one equates her eight hour day
Has It All Paul wipes away gourmet residual
Exhaustion frightened by frothy latte
Fingers in pies finance necromancer denies
Bulging funds fail to complete, coins conflict
Periphery rebuffs, enough is finite, endless leers
Goblet of gluttony grape broth overflow inflicts
Victim of vanished virtue, bon vivant declaration
Transmutes rules, outruns consequence
Guidance glued in buttery dough glides rhetorical
Yacht reined in quay quiver, another arrow for Cupid
Entertainment timed to change with shifting tides
Inglots tossed overboard drown in debauch
Drunk playboy Paul while vulnerable divulges
Disdain for greeds' steep scrag, perpetual pursuit
Outdo, prove prowess for those who never realise
Incongruent grapple for further forgets to cherish
Partners relent, resources force caucus to submit
Patronising Paul procures boardroom obedience
Inundating debt retards bombastic boon reward
Promise of association silences indulgent sin
28th June
Plenty Stimulates
I am a self-portrait
portraying myself & second self
though, I am just of one flesh
one mind and soul,
I've expressions
of two psyches, dualities
two distinctive women
of two heritages
Didymous are the
liking's of Castor & Pollux
deluxe in statuesque, in alabaster
we are spiritual twinship
thunder & lighting, two-fold
from left to right,
in Victorian elegance
a wedding gown
On the right of me,
in Tehuana frock, fabulosa
I arose from the overworld
one of Northern celestial
the other southernmost
we are twins separately
by surgical pincers, bleeding hearts
as crimson seeps onto white cotton
it stains with the past & present pains
we share one main artery
torn up, broken down
yet are countries apart
with hands clasped
together, we are Gemini
I've been caught in a web of lies
As filthy as that beast crawling;
Along each thread, I wonder how
It flexes; does a lie retain it's shape
After stretching to the limit?
Or does it snap and free the prey?
Look closely at the silk
Do you not see that all its ilk
Bears resemblance to the one nearby?
Just pluck at the string
And hear it ring
And listen to them mutter.
Sometimes the web of lies is spun
Not by many, but by one
The one that snags on the sticky thread;
And struggles, then the web is woven
You can't escape the tightened net
It only narrows when you push
Notice the geometry of the intricate web
A Devil's star; the molecules stab
Across the middle into an anvil
It reverberates; then entropy wipes out
The vibration you'll always hear and spout
Until the pincers go right past your chin
A centipede found its way into our home
My hairs stood on end for hours on end!
And while we tried learning about it on Google search,
in a dark and damp crevice it made its perch
All the cyber net did was to amplify my fears
It also yielded that our azure electric-blue vermin
was quite hot on the market
Making me wonder how people could fancy
such a nightmarish pet!
For this wasn't just any pest
This had hazardous venom
I fearfully wondered if they had
its antidote serum.
We couldn't just ignore
a pair of painful pincers on the loose
There wasn't way to rope those
like bull horns in a noose.
Here was a venomous predator
complete with stinging apparatus
Its bite portended pain
and complications humongous!
It did appear to have those rumoured hundred segments
but count scaredy me out from counting those myriad ligaments.
This insectivore when we tried then to shoo,
with lightning speed it zig-zagged out of view!
So now it lurks but we can't find it anywhere
and gosh its stingers triple their size in my nightmare!
besides leaving us with a proliferation scare.!
And but timid me thanked God once again
to my great relief how thoughtful of Him indeed
to create venomous creatures that inflict stinging pain
but atleast are unable to zoom in flying at us at flying speed! .
(a flyin scorpion, centipede wud have been far more terrifyin n dangerous eh) .
And you explore me-
to the limits of enchantment.
As I was-
dying in a nonfiction.
Half brothers-
were moving like pincers
to catch a pen
like a little solidier.
Sad little god was telling
I do,
I am moving in non-existent darkness
for a sundial.
A lobster-
was trying to climb on
an ancient throne.
He wanted to become a neoking.
And throw his weight for the kittens
and unborn dogs.
Satish Verma
In many colours I come and many places inhabit
when in South America crabs are my favourite
I chase them with great glee and delicately
Their flesh pick out of their shells and pincers
Come to Africa, when I reside here I have bat ears
that swivel around as I listen for my prey
a tasty rabbit, a guinea fowl even just a mouse
I hide any excess and return to dine in leisure
When living in Russia I am silver in colour
a thick pelt and bushy tail which I display
with such great pride to attract the vixens
then in a matter of weeks new cubs join me
England not quite so cool here the hunt
dogs baying for my blood as I am chased
uphill and down dale, cunningly I head downstream
then hide up in some trees, yes I can climb them
Arctic is where I the Alopex live with my tiny ears
to help me not to lose too much heat in the snowy Tundras
here I eat whatever I can even a fish when it's salmon run
with my vixen we share the raising of four to eleven cubs
Known world wide as cunning and sly, I am a survivor
overcoming different adversities as they arise
Reynard is the name most men know and curse me by
especially if I have raided their chicken coops
I WISH I WEREN’T A CENTIPEDE
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I wish I weren’t a centipede, a lowly arthropod
I need a transformation into something much more mod
To obtain status, with a much higher species standing
Not be straddled with an enervating task so demanding
I get no praise for my control nor multiple coordination
None can match my velocity nor perfect synchronization
Hard work, sweat and practice, I never need to hedge
Only I can manage and direct hundred pairs of legs
There are numerous phoney imposters of me
The most common, of course, the millipede
We both scurry about after the sun goes down
I’m known as a deadly killer, he’s just a clown
And when he is frightened, curls up and plays dead
Me, when confronted, a venom I’ll promptly embed
He subsists eating dead leaves and rotting flesh
Me, I go hunting I like to devour my protein fresh
I’m really scary, so I stay hidden during the day
But at night is when I’m active searching out for prey
I’ve got a couple of pincers, positioned near my head
I reach out to find you, once located, you are dead
That’s my routine, residing in wet n gloomy sites
Venturing out at dusk to procure a couple of bites
I’m not a gourmet almost anything fits my diet
A mouse, a rat, an ant. If its warm I’ll surely try it
Each day mimics itself, an unremarkable occurrence
Repeating the same sequence doesn’t really make much sense
After due deliberation, I have decided to fill my day
With thoughts of being a condor and just aviate away
I will soar over the Andes riding endless thermal drafts
View the Nazca Plains, take in the mysterious graphs
Alas, it’s a pipe dream, that each night I’ll need to cede
I’ll scurry out, repeat the hunt, cause I’m just a centipede
Of all the world this century I see
What shimmers – artifice devoid of soul.
Pneumatic truncheons burying dreams of She,
The Mother, under satin sheets of coal.
If would mine eyes deceive me not I’d think
It just a putrid fantasy, from which
The shadows formed by tortured lids could blink
Awake into the rays from which no niche
Could cling like pincers holding darkness gripped.
Inverted it would seem the very Laws,
When God can’t stop in poison water dipped,
The baptism of Earth in fossil maws.
I pray that life – eternal Hope so fair,
Can snatch redemption from morose Despair.
All my life,All my days
Wolves and sheep alike flock with me
Like a magnet,they are drawn to me
Like bees,they swarm around me.
Sucking my honeycomb to Sahara
Like mosquitoes,they bite and go
but like Twist,they want more
Vampires,what a befitting title.
They've built roofless shelters
Right in the corner of my pocket,
the home of my juiciest fruit
believing in its strong cover,
when the rainy days roll in.
They milk me dry with their pincers,
Descending on my defenseless self
Pouncing on my vulnerability
Like a relentless leech,
they hold on to my apron.
Ripping me has become a hobby.
Till i am as dry as the fig,
my udder will be home to them.
Venomous blood sucking parasites
They will follow me to the end.
A Sting From Hell
Making its round in social media group thro Whatsapp...
A picture of a tiny black creature hellish enough alright...
Typically out of sight, hiding between the many fruits on a bunch of langsat......
A shimmering blackish creepy crawlie with a sinister looking spiked tail...
At its head grow 2 formidable appendages capped with pointed pincers...
Held high and in readiness to inflict maximum damage on its unsuspecting victim..
For the many urban folks that we have morphed into undoubtedly ...
This arachnid is a scorpion, with protective armoured plates for a skin...
And poison in its spiked tail to release a most painful and deadly toxin...
Ain't surprising a tiny scorpion prick can give rise to a great health emergency...
But for the rubber tapper folks and background we are from...
A scorpion bite, even from the big bad mama herself....
It is just another painful reminder of a rubber tapper's lot in life ....
Once bitten, there is naught you can do, just grit your teeth and all you want....
Got to withstand the throbbing pain, there are hundreds of tree tapping yet to be done....
Another hidden peril is that armoured crawling centipede...
Man, just talking about either of them is giving me anew the creeps....
Cos to this day I remember how painful the bite was...
How it stung and throbbed ever so painfully....
You wouldn't want to wish it on your worst enemy..
Hohoho....
Lived that, survived that, didn't relish a bit for the experience......
Scorpion sting or centipede bite, it is pain you can do without...
I simply cannot get the world off my mind,
Its angels and demons should be left behind.
At a slugs pace, my insanity races,
My mind wanders off to all these dark places.
Just when I start thinking all hope may be lost,
I realize madness ' s cure has a cost..
Your body's involuntary reactions,
They've proven to be a worthy distraction.
Your thinking processes grow painfully slow,
As I funnel fire ants deep in your nose.
Tickling, prickling, burning and searing,
Thousands of flaming pincers numb your hearing.
Undeniably sore, they pour from your pores,
You once thought you knew pain, but now your brain soars
Higher than clouds, and yet your sanity shrouds,
While mine has only begun laughing aloud.
The further you crawl from your coherent mind,
The closer I come to rationalize mine.
Dragging you down stairs by your beautiful hair,
Blood stains caress your best lace underwear.
Slowly, but surely, both time tested and true,
My brain won't be bested by the likes of you.
I'll fight for my sanity, logic, and reason,
Each pain filled plea leaves something to believe in.
Now in my basement, we can finish the job,
"Quit blubbering you slob" I shout as you sob,
I yank out some hair from your luscious blonde bob,
I finger your scalp as my genitals throb.
You're barely awake, so I knock out your teeth,
As you gag on your blood, I feed you my meat.
As the rhythmic gyrations slow to a stop,
I look in your eyes as a final tear drops.
He would see friends of his past,
Turn to foes of the present,
They would chase behind his back,
Human shadows, both crooked and unpleasant.
His eyes felt and saw differently,
No longer a need for a nose,
He had new red-colored pincers,
And eight legs with no toes.
Amidst his panic, he felt the waves,
The sandy waves that lured him,
Deep into its treacherous flow,
An opportunity to escape,
Only to that side could he dare to go...
He couldn't move back nor forth,
Was it his imagination?
He could only move in an axis,
The first human to succumb to carcinization...
You wish me to say those words,
To love you
Surely you mean to win me
As I exhale my expostulations
Some hidden truth
That you think you understand
You mean to squeeze out of me
Some sacred confession
As I engorge your pride
With poisonous lies
You want me to love you
You demand it of me
And I pale!
I pale at the thought of such a declaration
I pale at the past
As it stings me every which way
I cry out and bleed over it
I remember his sweet voice
I remember his hands
As they held my love
Soon all of it was his own
All of it was there in his palm
He watched it crumble away on him
Dead orchids destined for earth's soil
They fell away, inevitably
And my dust left no blemish
You want me to say it still
But I pale as I remember
The promises he made
To me
They meant the world
And yet,
It was I who begged in the end
It was I who reached out
A planet orbiting a star
With no reply
With no reaction
And he blamed depression
He blamed himself
And all of life's bustle
I let the currents take me
My voice drowning in the universe
I have grown accustomed to these ghosts
Passing through irrevocably
Trusting only in themselves
Indulging in their pleasures
I go through them everyday
They only exist
Because I scream them
And you, the crab
Retreat into your shell,
Ostensibly wounded by my refusal
You save your pincers for another day
I will reach inside your core before I say it
I will cross ecstacy's shore
I will lace my fingers in your softest part
And I'll watch your eyes
As I find the glimmer where it lies
Feb 25, 2018