Best Protrudes Poems


Old Man Time

Redeployed in an ugly skin
Pleated and spotted and grumpy within
What I call walking ,they call shuffling
I'm bending down to tie my shoe
While Im down here what else can I do?

When driving down my lip protrudes
Only for the dentist will I open mouth
Okay , Ill wave at you but I wont smile
The dog and the toilet are my only true friends
You get up to go and then you go again

Memories are yesterday
Forgetfulness is all over today
Ill tell you what it is
But forgot what I was going to say

Got to buy dogfood
Where are my glasses?
Who am I talking to?
They've all gone away

Premium Member An Early Experiment

The mirror reflects, obliquely,
a peculiar yellow butterfly -- it flutters, flutters
the specks of black my beard is made of
on the breeze.  A daffodil hangs down its treasure
and I spread shaving cream, in great white puffs,
shielding from the windy noise its yellow
across my face.  The nose protrudes, ridiculous
excrescence.  A leaf half green sweeps up in circles
in the whiteness all around.  A weak chin, think I,
of windy sighs.  Squirrels crack acorns, crunching,
down into a patchy neck.  Very unsatisfactory
remembering winter's almost famine.  The trees --
appearance.  Altogether so.  Oh well.
Quiet.  Steady.  Sturdy.  Oh well.
The mirror reflects, but not uniquely.

Indiana Jones

The passionate...pulsating rhythm,
   Of your tasty...temple of doom.
      Pounds a pummeling throb,
         While hunting for buried treasure. 

         A lustrous...look like acid rain,
      A hopeful...heart, a buried jewel.
   My whip...willingly...whips,
A love escapade unwinds.

I raid your beautiful...body
   Looking for the lost ark in the dark.
      Erotic...exploration begins;
         I explore a deeper crevice. 

         Solely...searching a secret tunnel,
      Investigating, probing, and panting,
   In the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
With my trusty archeological tool.

Hot wax poured...sizzling burns
   The crimson scented wax streams
      On this secret quest for love, 
         A stimulating last crusade.

         Drops of salty...sweat
      Bead from my fatigued...face  
   Dripping into the abyss of covers 
And on the glistening skin.

Contrast: hitting the shiny...skin
   The splash sound...is amplified.
      A magnified grimace of pleasure
         Protrudes the dark silhouette.

         Steamy...lava skin yearns,
      For a cool touch to extinguish 
   The heat of human friction while
Luscious...lips call out Dr. Jones.



 ____________________________
*Posted for an anonymous request
To write more free verse...


Finding Your Place

Silent in the darkness of each breath..inhaling this air we feed to the lungs within the beast of our inner torment, Ever cautious ever alert our presence creeps across the meadow as the mist protrudes from around us.. If only this demon could be sworn off, killed and defeated, left and feeling nothing to suffer in its own mindlessness, Yet we stand as it rips, tears and grows within us.. Changing our souls for everything it was once worth to something it turns into pure hate in a nightmare of a world, If we can't be ourselves...Then who can we truly be, We walk a fine line as the edge slips away from us we stumble to find ourselves within fighting off this beast...nothing we can do....nothing anyone can do...less we kill off the demon with the blade of our pure selves ripping its heart out and feeding it to our gorge of an abyss, If we can't be ourselves..then why try to be anything at all....haha..you will never be anything of any worth till you fend off the one thing that binds you to your own hate..your anger merely feeds it giving it strength as it grows within you, Stay strong and make the demon bleed...there's no rest for the wicked things that linger in your lives.

Premium Member Barry and Larry

One September morn, Barry is born, one day a little man that society will chastises every day, poisoned with dour memories of a life passing, staggers habitually along life’s broad way, yet still, he believes an ardent player of this earthly cast.

the mould human kind
every one naked the same
circumstance fate plays

One September morn Larry is born not a volunteer, into this place, no developing embryo given a democratic choice, but oh the joy the accolades, freedom of youth rampart significant, carte blanche credit card.

silver spoon protrudes
freewheeling society
so much to tire of

An unknown purpose aided each step, for Barry with holdall and worldly baggage around his neck, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, life’s hypocrisy filed against this frail oppressed old man, living with a menial existence inside prejudiced borders.

daunting are the nights
beneath a blanket of fog
soul destroying dawns

Here Larry the mellow fellow who toast, boast every night drunk with his host, cocaine his specialty, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, now his empire has closed the high life exposed a hobo a bench a lamppost his only light.

Barry and Larry
mix for the first time at the...
crematorium.


Entered 2022 Poetry marathon Mile 20
sponsor Mark Toney  12/11/2022
written 2021
Form: Haibun

Symbolistic Seascape

From the depths of choppy waters,
Emerges the shell of man.
Draped in an aquatic robe,
Deliberately...making his stand.

With New York at his shoulders,
And the Big Apple by his side.
His robust presence emerged,
Creating...the evening tide.

The sun boldly illuminates,
The way for birds to fly.
As the world protrudes the heavens,
Through an M.C. Escher sky.
Form: Quatrain


Mercurial Sunset

orange pinwheel twirls
circus of color protrudes
burnished tent hovers
Form: Haiku

First Love

A Sense of love protrudes my veins.
Echoes through my heart and leaves stains.
I do not know it yet,but it feels like a strain.
A strain of romance flooded my brain.
A sense to find her drove me insane!

But will I find her ever?
And if I do,Will she love me forever?
Or will She leave saying "Never!"?
Will I find her inside my Endeavour?
Will she ever think I am Clever?

But now She is soon in my arms!
She has such a charm,
To make me fell safe from harm!
And when we meet it will be an alarm ,
An alarm of love for this girl in my arms!

Rain

Retrograde- Sky Demon-
As the liquor protrudes fresh
In my capsule cabriolet
Near the mildew of my flesh.
Form: Acrostic

Guilt Free

Sharp pain from dark's letters
Cold days from bodies whether
Where silent haze will not show her
This face that covers
What tartar bitters?

With the knife of a blade
Strikes through cranium's waves 
Protrudes through the musculus fiber ways
Where the vines pound at the same
There, on the temple it breaches to stay
Pound above, all again

Attacks at the vest
Rapids at best
Tightens on set
In a Minor chest
Hear that red pumping yet?

By the hard tips; pink
Brush the skin weak
Where the flake spills to force a wink
Darkens the mark that cleared the weeks
Ready to bleed, wash by the sink

Seeking the night
To lose a fight
Destroys that only light

Fade back and dream again
To the emotion that is no pretend
Manipulated by a causing trend
See it yet fall, all till ten
By the numb of a limb
Ask
The end

Just Open the Window

Just open up the window
And push away the screen
Which so rudely protrudes your view
Look at nature, the things unseen
The things made openly too

Just open the window
Feel the cool breeze
Taste the honey sweet scent
Hear the buzz of the bees
Trace the paths to where the went

Just open the window
Allow nature to open your eyes
So you can see the world of grace
Just open the window
Strip the horrible disguise
That humans have laid on this place
© Jen H.  Create an image from this poem.

3am

3am
The rest of the world was asleep 
While your mind on the other hand, never is
You occupied it
with inhale of your beloved Mary Jane

I study every smoke cloud that leaves your body
As that same dumb couple argues on TV
when will they learn I ask myself

Suddenly I felt the weight
Of the bed shift
A cold bony hand
Grabs my shoulder 

Felt my flannel slowly sliding off my back
And without hesitation
I fall into the comfort of your touch 

Your breathing becomes scattered
As I trace every single rib 
that protrudes your dull skin

Dirty nails 
make its way up my chest 
And around my neck
Which is accompanied 
By your chapped lips 

Maybe we're both wrong I thought
As the adrenaline and sweat leave my body
I placed my body next to yours
Under the blue covers

You casually turn your back
So all I see is your silhouette
I did the same 
As the couple on TV made up again 

I stare into the dark room
Conscious of every sound
Every movement you make

Which forces me to catch my breath 
For I hope
You finally decide to hold me 

6:50am 
It came around
Just as I started to close my eyes

Felt the bed shift again
And the urge to sleep
Suddenly disappears

Your mother left for work
While your presence left me 
I roll over to see you up 
Already saying good morning 
To Mary Jane

I pick up my clothes 
that slept on the floor 
And I head downstairs to leave

I went to grab the door 
To the garage
I turn the knob slightly 
And look back up the stairs

You weren't there 
you never are

But you'll make the time 
To call at 2am
On a weekday 

And impulsively 
I'm leaving my twin bed
and climbing under your blue covers
© Ali Lynn  Create an image from this poem.

Painless Endeavor

Eyes untangles the twining nodes of your blouse
 Exposing nectar factories that taunt naughty minds 
As their mouths leak the righteous nudity of their oblongata 
Their hands stay restless while their nostrils sniff your underwear

 Pseudopodia protrudes between your two legs 
As rain shadows form behind your eyes 
With each and every pulse 
Silent cries of pain follows 
While their hearts jeers with excitement 
And their bodies shriek and wriggle 
To the sweetness of your pain 

To one by one destruction comes 
As their pseudopods are dipped Into the volcanoes of cold fire 
Because they understood not what wisdom meant 
When she mentioned that a tree falls only to where it leans 
Because HIV now cheers in their veins 

AIDS is real guys-be careful where you lean
Form: Imagism

Employee Blues

Sound the sirens, tell them to bring oxygen in their company 
I'm overdosing on apathy, forcefully devouring justified anger
Sound the alarm, I'm just a volcano waiting to blow
I can't bury my head in sleep
the world has ordered all beds made of steel
my head full of lead 
a magnet to the floor but a consistent bell nailed to the door
I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! 
In the monologue I've written for myself
the phrase that protrudes the most
yet the ears it needs to pierce
go on about their day while I bear the brunt of my words
in my blistered littered feet
shackles on my ankles
if they didn't want me to walk, they've been better off
taking a butcher knife to the shins
so I'd never talk again
but leave it to me to call it all my fault
embrace the flaws, force a smile
say I understand when I may
still not excusing the fact
that it's been my face on target they've been shooting darts at
numbering the days 'till I leave 
If I go down, I'm going down in handcuffs
It's been four months shy of a year
sound the sirens cause I'm throwing merchandise
sound the sirens cause I'm knocking over shelves
sound the sirens cause I'm shouting 'till my lungs collapse from aggravation
call the ambulance, call the ambulance, CALL THE AMBULANCE! 
I've caught the case of American Blues
I've caught the case of Ambulance Anxiety
because I can't excuse how this corporate society plan
has me by the throat, a death grip
I could transform into a masked vigilante
in full bat-like attire, fight my way out but beneath the mask
I'd be the same villain I'm fighting against
so who am I really fighting
Corporations or poverty? 
Don't listen to me, don't take this to heart
who am I kidding
just raise your fist in agreement
if you're suffering from the Ambulance Anxiety of American Blues
an employee who's just had enough of their job too

A Whatsapp Group

An island of memory forms in the 
                                   vast oblivion. 
Emotions froth with warmth. Minds 
                                  are connected 
through the broadband of nostalgia. 
                                 An everlasting
get-together of old classmates. They
                               wage war against
vices. They sob over sorrows that are
                                   not theirs. Pics 
of triumph get applause, while envy’s
                                    horn protrudes
from a pit. Origin of congratulations
                                 and consolations
is from the same key. Some purloin
                                 from philosophy. 
One buddy’s a marauder of wits. This
                              WhatsApp group is
 a life jacket to escape from drowning
                                              in ennui. 
	
First printed in The Literary Hatchet.

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