Best Savaged Poems
Pick a Title – Wild Is the Night – Sponsor: Edward Ibeh 1-9-25
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Wild Is the Night
Night wakes
In atonality of imploding infernos
Stretches,
Tossing matted tresses,
Throws off serene quilts
Of winter’s full golden moonlight
To thrash about with bare feet
On icy floors,
Tripping over the remains of dawn
Where shreds of crumpled thoughts,
Like shards of icy hailstones,
Claw at windowpanes
Clothed in nakedness.
Night shivers
As jumbled fangs of hunger
Rattle chimes and unbroken stares
When gusts of darkness ravage lullabies,
Gnaw on jawbones of savaged dreamscapes,
To race through hairpin curls of obsession
Night huddles
In tempests of dead ends,
Decorated by fixations,
By graffiti of the grotesque,
Where despair masquerades in cyclones of deception,
Storms of mania as solutions.
Whispers of wind driven earworms hatch,
Step in front of Heaven’s voice,
Cutting into Heaven’s heart
With blades of infected gales;
As the blood of angels stains doves
Anxiety floods in downpours
When the litany of the hours tosses and turns
In explosions of black noise;
Wild night paces in midnight,
Caught by scurrying tornedos,
Waiting
For the first light of resurrection.
High upon the highest heights
I see the most tremulous sight
A small girl, fair and tranquil
Smiling strangely, sitting still
Beneath a sobbing willow tree
She recites a verse upon her knee
She sings a rhythmic hymn
Not of death, nothing grim
But prays that life will return
Even for those who are doomed to burn
The girl is a woman now
Beneath the tree and upon the cloud
She whispers, “I am watching you”
Why then are you so blue?
A single tear of sadness and joy
Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy
Who sits down beneath the blooming tree
Listening to her silent voice attentively
She reminds him she was once young too
That she also was a misty shade of blue
But when the boy grows into man
He has come to ignore the fair woman
Who watches him still from above
Burning and swelling with disdainful love
The ways of the world have sweltered his heart
And time has torn his soul apart
Thus he has lost all innocence and light
Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight!
I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears
Reducing the vigilant woman to tears
The prayer of the innocent has been ignored
Life has died and hellfire stored
Into the hearts of the impotent
In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent
Toiling in misery and lament
Savaged and severed by our regret
The heavenly woman grows old and frail
And the man still treads the sinful trail
As the rotting tree withers into dust
Can I revive it? –I must!
Low as low can possibly be
I watch myself condescendingly
A tombstone, gray and hell-bent
Frowning knowingly in bewilderment
Above the dust that once was a tree
She cries out a verse anxiously
Faintly she whispers the undying hymn
Not of happiness, nothing of whim
And prays that life will come to end
For those that break instead of bend
On a path laid as a snake,
Trodden down a winding wake,
Curls and slithers into night,
To thrones of ever-dimming light;
I hold still and gripped with feeling
In a mist that wraps concealing,
And I glimpse her flicker by
From the corner of my eye.
Heartless granite fissures break
At prayers to God of souls to take,
In their vessels bled to white,
Shells of failure and of blight;
It snares and snags as ivy veins,
Upon the brickwork, grasps and strains,
And I catch her ribbons fly
From the corner of my eye.
Set adrift in this domain,
The dead volcanoes that refrain,
Never smoking nor erupt
For the end was sharp, abrupt;
I feel the ether of despair
Envelope skin with frosted air,
I spot the crystals melt and die
From the corner of my eye.
No space for sorrow to explain,
To tell how love was savaged, slain,
The stir of breath can bare disrupt
Or wall of silence interrupt;
A fear of days, in truth, compare
With nights that always hunger there,
Unguarded moments, her I spy
From the corner of my eye.
“Don’t turn your back on the water...” my grandmother told me as I
skimmed stones across the tiny ripples of rock pools.
Small scaly creatures and stones sliced toes like knives but
we were full of excitement then,
craning necks and nets at the alien life under water that
swilled any blood away in a salty sting.
Until that day.
My rock pool filled with tears/spit/teeth from savaged parents
covered and muddied by seaweed from miles out - dragged against
flotsam and jetsam from the seabed. It all tipped endlessly into my rock
pool in a careless hurry/rush/smash like workmen at skips.
I went back to those pools and streams, like tears, crawling from the lake.
Found it was lost and
drowning within its own water:
a roof slate, a car, a swing from along the coast. A doll’s
head that just bobbed and plopped.
It would have been sucked and spat
upward, surging towards the sky with plastic arms praying,
in the deluge just moments (days?) before.
It’s not my rock pool anymore. It’s not our town.
People killed by geography:
Subduction – Subtraction of me from my family.
Subsidence - Insidious silence that lulled people to exposed sand with palm trees over heads like question marks… before the wave even Noah would struggle to sail.
Tsunami… you and me.
“Don’t turn your back on the water...” my grandmother told me
It was long gone midnight, and nervously I walked
There was something in the bushes, I was being stalked.
I could smell it's fetid breath, It was lurking in the dark
It scared me half to death as I hurried through the park.
My step quickened, my nerves could barely cope
For above my head the moon was full, the night of the lycanthrope.
Now my heart was racing, I began to flee
I could hear the slavering beast, and it was coming after me.
I was nearly at the gate much to my relief,
Thinking I was safe, that's when I felt its teeth.
It was ripping at my skin, tearing me to shreds
There I lay bleeding, amongst the flower beds.
It fixed me a stare, through furious blood red eyes
It left, I lay savaged, as daylight filled the sky.
I staggered home wounded to the safety of my room,
I couldn't know how things would change, come the next full moon.
Weeks later it was dark, the moon was full and bright
I was going nowhere, I'd stay in tonight.
Then I heard a noise, so guttural, so foul,
Horrified, I couldn't stop myself, I began to howl!
Entry for
Scary or Spooky poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
19/9/18. Placed 1st.
Apparently Soup finds the Latin word for ‘Human’ offensive;
about as ‘P.C. gone wrong’ as it’s possible to get. I have had to
include completely superfluous hyphens in order to get the word
accepted.
__________________________________
Our home in the stars so often ransacked
Homo-destructus had forced us to act
So quick to breed
Killed - not to feed
Our ancient ancestors counter-attacked
All rounded up for a new rebirth
Transported far to a fertile Earth
A gauntlet they ran -
- Neanderthal man
Homo-destructus; victor or serf?
That was a million Earth years ago
Call us inquisitive, we need to know
A long stellar trek
In order to check
What occurs when you let primitives go
Five light years travelled to view their progress
Earth is an angry and war tangled mess
Our crew now lay savaged
Our ship also ravaged
Homo-destructus sees no welcome guest
That primeval race that we once left to swarm
With clubs and flint axes their weaponry norm
Strangely ironic
They’re now atomic
And Homo-destructus remains true to form
Contests! good for building egos up
great for knocking creativity down
as I pore over words and sounds
to make my poetry jump off the page
to come alive in others minds
in the most imaginative way.
Contests! we don't need them
they drive us crazy every day
putting our best foot forward
and doing something that is brave
putting your art out there for judging
nurtured and created with much loving
only to be brutally dimissed
or even worse maybe even savaged
Contests! Huh, well this I find an interesting challenge
maybe I will just have a go at this
rise to the challenge and try to win it
not because I don't think it still stinks
but because in my own way we become
ever so slightly addicted to it
looking for some kind of justification
for writing poetry and putting it out to the nations
or just because we have a competitive edge
contests! I've won a couple so see what's next
see if I can be the best, I mean i wish everyone all the best
I just enter for a bit of fun, not to be just number one!
but being unplaced leaves me undone
but hey, let's show a little grace keep a smile upon our faces
swallow this bitterest pill and compete until they lose the will
to misjudge my work again, I am the top contestant man!
enter contests or be dammed, stinking contests drive me mad
Argh!!!! is that even a word?
17/7/18
With The Fleece Torn From A Fallen Suitor's Heart
Where were you, as cold winds ate these aging bones,
away counting your wealth, your precious gemstones;
a marauding mist that surrounds its weakened host
tho' cherished, your heart remained as a fleeting ghost.
Life lesson learned, the weak become the prized prey.
Time says, the predator will someday have to pay.
Where were you, as dark nights- savaged a hurting soul,
idling in wanton lust- polishing your golden bowl;
with the fleece torn from a fallen suitor's heart
in a blind cave, far from what wisdom could impart.
Life lesson learned, the weak become the prized prey.
Time says, the predator will someday have to pay.
Where were you, as death sent its dark to make calls
parading in your cold heart talking to empty halls;
a lost and vain entity, few could recognize
no longer the tempting beauty, once thought a prize.
Life lesson learned, the weak become the prized prey.
Time says, the predator will someday have to pay.
Robert J. Lindley,10-14-2018
Rhyme, (Fleeing echoes from a heart broken past)
edited from an old poem fragment.
Arising, splits the purple nuclear sky,
Rends the dark valleys with light,
Spills along footpaths and alleys,
The glory of morning, ending of night.
In sanction, closing of the chaos,
Soothes the hot valves with dragon-heart balm,
Beams with serenity and salves,
In silvery moonlight, infinite calm.
Above, my ascendant sun and moon,
Arc-light searing and platinum white,
Adoration eternal and endearing,
My wondrous morning, my glorious sight.
The land of my fathers lays waiting,
Dispelling the lonely, the welcoming fields,
Whether industry savaged or verdant,
The hillsides of poets, their treasure she yields.
Bernard is writing Esther: "I have a family, a nice shed,
I always take the lead and have never in life been lead.
In the mornings I walk Jess, at night I drink rum, eat bread
But when I see you - can hardly breathe as if I'm already dead."
Bernard is writing Esther: “I have a pond nearby,
Children run there to swim, but often lie
That to swim. I’ve seen it all – Singapore from bird’s eye
From Iceland fjords to Somaly ore plies
But if you are taken away from me – I would die.”
Bernard is writing: "Income, finances, audit,
Jeep with a driver, stereo sound with voice of Edith,
And a thirty percent discount at favorite bar -
I can drink with no cards or cash or credit.
If you look me in the eye - God's staring from afar."
Bernard is writing Esther: "I'm forty eight like others of beau monde who are bald,
I recall who I am with help of visas, passport and driver's license - I'm old.
Flooded trench pit, nuclear grave digger scolds,
Subordinates like ninepins - I count their heads
But if words were also a currency,
Then you're out of my word league, flag of red."
“My little girl, you are just as beautiful as Banshee,
You’ve come to tell me I’ll die but not yet and not she.
Don’t write me, Esther, please don’t write. You’ll see
It's that I would not possess enough soul,
My old tired soul has been savaged by me.”
Fists flying people crying
On this crazy day black Friday
What a disgrace as the hunter’s race
Christmas bargains with a punch in the face
Dozens of brawls and 999 calls
From stores all around the country
These midnight sales just turned into hell
Behaving like wild animals that were hungry
Shopping madness hit the towns
Customers fighting like savaged clowns
Ripped stuff down from the shelves stacked high
And within minutes the TV’s and gadgets went dry
Reports came in from everywhere
This place is a battlefield they don’t care
Shocking behaviour and violence broke out
Some were screaming whilst others would shout
It was deadly like a war picture scene
People grabbing and pushing for just anything
They were having a tug of war over electrical goods
Rivals punching black and blue to snatch for their hoods
Supermarkets were forced to close their doors
When the crowds rushed in they forgot civil laws
It was a shameful site and the customers weren’t polite
Those black Friday shoppers they did fuss and they did fight
© Copyright by KC.Leake
29th November 2014
All Rights Reserved
I watched a shocking video today,
It’s an example of animal cruelty,
A variety of them killed without mercy,
Skinned to the bones while it breathing heavily.
A heart with no soul for doing this activity,
They are so scared shouting for their last day,
Pool of blood pouring to the ground of hell,
Small voices of dying animals, furs will sell.
The savaged men tossed them to the side,
A mountain of bloody creatures for sacrifice,
Looking at them begging to stop this inhumane act,
It breaks my heart and tears flowing down in fact.
The best thing we can do is to pray,
Show our love to animals every day,
Be vigilant, be concern, and do your share,
They are God’s creation, please show your care.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DE56fAD3HyE
This is the link
February 28, 2013
6th Place Winner
For PD's Contest
September 25, 2013
LAMB AMONG THE LITERARY LIONS
Housewives, secretaries, the odd pro willing to stoop,
All came, delinquents, child prodigies, derelict old men
“All welcome” – the Chair of the Writers’ Group
To those looking for support, with a love of the pen;
They were decent people bonding, scorning the pub
The roll call a hedge school of ancient fame
They read poems and stories like a literary club
And enjoyed playing the great writing game.
Anthology reviewed, the twelve year old took accolade
From the shyest to the most arrogant, all were shook
He was savaged by the grande dame in an envious raid
She was terrified someone so young would produce a book!
Even the chair demurred, and went to The Times
Requesting deletion of “all welcome “– young souls are stilled by such crimes.
Naked copulation embedded this one,
Before one imagined or everyone,
When the night was mostly savaged
And the light was damaged bandaged.
Blessed where the ones given a son,
Under a circular, an heir on the run
A sun that insist to be the only to shine
Transcended moves, in their eyes he always was in line.
Of everything, in anything, blood gun
Penetrated melanin, anger that weighs a ton
Ravaged a girl’s heart from denied love
Her blood covered her mind with a glove.
Energy exerted on her could no more stun
A winding period of torture, a moment for fun
A hiding when demur to a marital agreement
Denied knowledge, freedom of expression and all for her that was meant.
Sunk in thoughts, caged panther, her time held for someone
Caged panther, I became, with a slow motion that took a spun
I escaped the last days of inbound hostage, mind muscled and heart footed
My own family had a vision of my success, from the start, booted.
I try to fight them, those cruel clawing cold hands
that drag me from the pit, clawing, twisting, crushing me.
I must find you! I need to hold you, to be held by you!
So I fight, desperately, to break free, to find you.
I try to fight them, even as the feel of the ropes upon my arms
burning ever deeper, into my skin
. I fight desperately, as the leather collar bites into my throat,
and my breath leaves me. I try to fight, savagely, desperately, to break free.
Knowing I can never escape, that I will fail,
and knowing full well, what fate awaits us both.
I know not where they have taken you, but I can still feel you,
can still hear your voice, as it softly speaks of love.
, It is how I know you are still alive,
and that knowledge gives me strength to fight on desperately.
My body is ravaged, torn, the horrors those cruel hands have dealt, have broken my very soul,
yet I try, desperately to fight. I long for release into the void,
yet I can still feel you, still hear your voice, still know your love.
I know not, where they will take me, until the wagon comes to a stop.
Then, for the first time in almost 16 days, your eyes are the first thing I see.
You are alive, and when your eyes finally find mine, you look with such love, at me.
So again, I fight! I fight so desperately, but those, horrible cruel hands,
tighten their vicious grip, once more.
I reach for you, needing your touch, sobbing your name.
The pain, almost forgotten, gone, almost instantly. I struggle, oh, how I fight!
And so, I didn’t see. I didn’t see the first of the blows, that spilled crimson onto the snow,
at my feet. I screamed for you. I screamed your name desperately
as I watched blow after blow rip your body to pieces, in front of me. Your blood turning the snow to slush, scarlet staining my feet. I watched your soul flee as I screamed for you,
as the fight poured out of me. I watched, as they defiled you.
I watched as they ripped your body apart. I felt your soul leave mine.
I watched, as the light of the sunrise left your eyes.
My soul broken, my body savaged, I crumbled to ashes, there in the snow, at your side.
The numbness that overtook me, did nothing to save me, that day. I can still taste your blood.
Goddess above, I still taste your blood! No, More!
No longer, will I bear this well of horror, and tears!
Goddess, help me! I am drowning in it!