Best Recoils Poems

An Ode to Femininity and Romance -

The background music of this delicate poetic arrangement is intended to be played softly as you sit back and reminisce on romantic memories while creating new ones - Perhaps with a glass of red wine and - Oh! Don’t...

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In seventy-eight, my steel-stallion, KZ1000, 
   pride, wind in my hair.
Its Sissy Bar, firm tether, bag secured, 
   my wanderlust's prayer.

Where sun, snow, wind sculpt my journey's theme 
   my odyssey untamed, my spirit free.
No car to claim, just...

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The dense stratus manipulates the sunlight
Rugged heath fades as day turns to night,
Solitary tree recoils
Unaware embroils
In respect
Toils,
Self respect
In winter’s turmoil's
Evokes and then disembroils,
When with groans of naked limbs doth fight
Sees off the weary wind on its way in flight.

© Harry J Horsman 2021

An Andaree form...

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The Doll Collection



The necklace scattered: all into little pieces
Another quiet doll for my collection
I twisted her throat until her eyes shown dead
Into the night they stare so very red

I stand her up, on a small doll chair
Crafted with loving hands that freed her from breathing...

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I stand naked wrapped only in the truth
you vile, loathsome reptile.
My contempt of you is limitless
as I have been force-fed your hypocrisy.
Your postulations are lost on me
as my insight into your repulsive nature
is exceeded only by the palpable stench of your aura.
Eyes opened to their...

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Emotional scars can cut deep,
manipulating how you feel.
And at night, when you try to sleep,
phantom tears suddenly turn real.

Everything seems so surreal,
when demons empower the blade.
And exonerating the steel,
your inhibitions slowly fade.

With every cut, blood oozes thick,
while the tides of guilt ebb and flow.
And time,...

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WHY DO WE DREAM IN COLOR

Slime-green jealousy of serpent,
Recoils around forbidden spread.
Eve’s curious of its foul scent.
Why do we dream in apple red?

Eyes look up at the dying sky.
A plethora of silent doom.
Each new dawn causes tears to dry.
Rainbow petals of dreamy bloom.

Dried red resin...

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Lovely, you’re lovely—
Your heart is full of lovely.

You are growing within my life;
All without of you just pines.

My lovely, my inward gash before others recoils so tight—
Only you can veil my heart in your lovely sight.

Your known Rosetta failed my dark—
Colored you instead on every...

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Her touch is gentle
Seeking only to comfort,
To search out the source 
Of their trouble, their pain

They lie at first, silent
In fear of what dark form
Has sent this suffering
To disrupt their peace

The worry tears at their heart
Speaking only to their ears
Painting pictures only for their eyes
For...

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If I will talk to myself, well I will
And I do,
As the spring of my mattress
Recoils; I get up
Put on my shoes
Left,right,left,right
Tight they march
At my words
O my word
Three-hundred and,
and sixty-five
The tears held back
What is the point
To talking to you
When the peas
Deep dived, from the oversized...

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You are King of the Hill!
A full eight years done with teachers in a private school!
You are not foul-mouthed nor spoiled.
Everyone you meet, thinks the world of you, nobody recoils!


You are not going to an ordinary high school,  
Where you have to apologize for being...

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Winter scatters moth bones.
For a while,
it refreshes the turgid and lax.
Then the chill legs of small dancers
pirouette over warm bodies.
Flesh recoils, lungs curl around 
each breath.
Hedgerows offer their huddled masses,
to the underground and hidden.
The light is going color blind,
Wind-crones whip rabbit hair
into wickiups 
for the...

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“The fog may come on little cat feet”*
But Autumn eschews silence
The thick crunch of crisp fallen foliage
Hastens the homebound honking of gaggled geese
Soft whispers of falling rose petals
Fade into the haze of hoarfrost
Cold winds whistle wildly through naked Maples
Flags snap loudly to attention
A brutish barn...

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| I Dream Poetry in Darkness and Light |

Unbroken, my light rises like deep alluvion of sweet rivulets,
Craving passions and tragedies like written poetries of Juliet.

In softly spoken words I quell, of streamed sheen of sunbeams and spells.
Where worlds of fallen reality and fantasy live...

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Whoever might with just free words beside
Speak of the blood and in full too of sores
Which I saw now, with a narration wide?

Any speech will sure fail to open doors
To our sermon and for the mind indeed
Which offer to such grasp so little score.

If one...

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