Best Scald Poems
In a warm restaurant interior
Lazing away, coffee in hand
A hot form sitting across, a platter of fruits
My heart skipped a beat, as she lifted her fork,
A berry making its way, unto her luscious mouth
Gentle a bite and the juice spill, I wish to devour
My chest searing hot, a sweet feel that caused
Approach her close, offered a wipe
She laughs in answer at my sight
In awe I find the reason for her mirth
a murky brown spot on white
My face blushed I retire, empty cup in hand
For the result of the scald on my chest was the cause.
© Nadiya (5 Feb 15)
Categories:
scald, humor,
Form:
In perpetual slow motion the wheel of fate will turn,
What is given in abundance will surely be taken away.
Leaving only questions of why that scald and burn
When the bill seems so unfairly high to accept and pay.
For the lean will yap on the heels of prosperous fat
A dire warning that silver linings are a one way gate.
For when I blindly come out to take my turn to bat
I'm unaware of the curve ball thrown by fickle fate.
So I bargain with God and Fate and Lady Luck
Omnipotent in some far off nebulous recess.
In rules beyond my understanding I am stuck
A helpless pawn in their intricate game of chess.
For fortune can shatter and turn on a simple dime
I search for meaning in a game I don't wish to play.
In the running sands of my life and remaining time
Illusive hope the only constant I pray for today.
In perpetual slow motion the wheel of fate will turn,
Surely giving back that which has been taken away.
Everlasting hope and despair that evolve and churn
As I drink deeply from the cup of maybe-some-day.
Categories:
scald, hope, introspection, lifehope, ,
Form:
Rhyme
I revere you here, in the midst of the flames
Which scald incinerates and purifies the faith,
And hurled ash and smoke into the frames
Where flowers blossomed before our birth.
Which scald incinerates and purifies the faith
Where you swear me words as we escape,
Where flowers blossomed before our birth
Sorrow lurks in oak limbs, safe from gape.
Where you swear me words as we escape
Where the wind twirls ice veils across hills,
Sorrow lurks in oak limbs, safe from gape
On flows set in motion at creation's chills.
Where the wind twirls ice veils across hills
Where somber seas race moon-mad tide,
On flows set in motion at creation's chills
Ancient sea-tossed stones once men reside.
I revere you here, away from fire and grime
And hurled ash and smoke into the frames,
You and I are linked in a spiritual sublime
I revere you here, in the midst of the flames.
Written: May 05, 2022
A RHYMING PANTOUM OF FIVE STANZAS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Checked by: Rhyme Zone.com
and: HMS.COM
Categories:
scald, analogy, appreciation, cheer up,
Form:
Pantoum
Isaac's son
saac's son
Saxon
O Israel where are you
I know you are not a Jew
Joseph come home
come home O child come home
I spy David's thrown
we'll have to make preparations
to bring it back to Jerusalem
so that when our savior comes home
he will have a proper place to sit
there upon his fathers thrown
for sins the Lord with held the blessings
over twenty five hundred years
and then we suddenly received them
swiftly they fade away
think we will ever learn our lesson
think we'll ever straighten our ways
"Be sure to observe my Sabbaths
keep the sanctified day
do not go around worshiping idols"
now blessings are fading away
does anybody else know
what does the word of God say
soon the skies will be iron
and the land will turn to brass
plagues shall scald our people
and our cities will break like glass
that fell down from the heavens
shattered and scattered all to pieces
we should have obeyed the laws of our father
like we were told to by the great king Jesus
O Ephraim, O Manasseh
I pray we learn our lesson fast
so that the pain doesn't have to last
we will all soon be slaves
God's will and try to be brave
still I pray
my God have mercy
and I pray to see the day
when we all learn to live
within God's laws and learn his ways
O America, O Britain
nation overseas and mine
don't you know God is going to punish us
time after time after time
until we learn the way to happiness
and inherit eternal life
we will walk by the river of life that flows
I guess we’ll have to learn the hard way
I guess that's just how it goes
they don't believe God and they wont believe me
I guess that soon enough
everybody in the world will know
everybody in the world will see
(Jer: 50:4-6)
In those days, and in that time, saith the LORD,
the children of Israel shall come, they and the children of Judah together,
going and weeping: they shall go, and seek the LORD their God.
They shall ask the way to Zion with their faces thitherward, saying, Come,
and let us join ourselves to the LORD in a perpetual covenant that shall not be
forgotten.
My people hath been lost sheep: their shepherds have caused them to go astray,
they have turned them away on the mountains:
they have gone from mountain to hill,
they have forgotten their resting place.
Categories:
scald, faith, children, forgiveness, history,
Form:
Rhyme
A priest once told me that the lump
on my hand was a ganglion,
a fortress of fat besieged by health.
At last it burst and the hand swelled
like an old man's,
shovel shaped and splayed.
It was her black pan, butcher's meat,
too many eggs; backed up
on a plate like silage.
It was her slight hands shaking,
the constant poking with a bread knife,
the endless journey to the
first biscuit from the pack;
a menace that caught our hearts
and buttered them,
teeth marks, crusty.
Moreover, tomatoes,
pulpy and bloodlet,
burnt my wicked tongue,
purged a shard of shame,
dare I eat a box full
bedraggled in juices
and spitting at the angle of a chop kept?
Caked at the start in the corner
of the pan, beached in lard,
over fried, sole fit, chewed in discontent,
longing for more
between the acceptance of juices;
hope swallowed with brittle rashers,
timbered and gathered.
It was the thought, the deed,
the plan, the wait and duty of it.
Potatoes, eschonced in the pot, sullen, strewn;
a flaky hand sliced them deftly,
washed the starch off and raked them in.
It was sausages, flame ripped,
dashed, blackened and wedged
on the barbs of the fork,
heaved in with fried bread,
salty with froth.
It was puddings,
sinewed and cut crooked,
corpuscles of grizzle
congealing the blood,
jaws working the skin like the cud.
Eggs like ignoble sea creatures,
speckled and stiff,
surviving on the rise and fall of breath,
morphing into another gender
or something to wonder,
to chew on, to mention, once.
Perhaps a bean to lubricate,
to allow a channel of liberty
but still reheated to a lump,
a thankless sweetener to a morsel,
not unlike news.
Tea, besugared and welcome,
a scald to erode stubborn detritus,
a wash to emerge from.
Between mouthfuls of talk we glided,
sometimes low to the ground
near silence, seldom
scuttling to any real height.
I suppose that was left for
pipe and ***, in the latter end,
when all offence was shut up tight
and we had regard again;
the smoke curled up
and carried our souls,
and mingled, indiscernible
and flowed away.
Categories:
scald, food, friendship, loss, memory,
Form:
Elegy
It was a lifetime ago...just yesterday,
when rain fell softly upon my face.
That spoke to me of younger years,
with all my innocence thus encased.
I could feel the rainbow...just out of reach,
all the colors of moments passed.
Where truths were lies and lies believed,
countless grains in an hourglass.
I can bear forth the torch...yet not burn the eyes,
to scald away truth's stench and decay.
Why can't we hold to the dreams of youth,
that was a lifetime ago...just yesterday?
Categories:
scald, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
Alligators bleed a passing style.
Shot birds freeze in a look of disbelief.
Leopards fall in wraps and cooling guts.
Snap and clack of traps grind mental teeth
In living bone. Flash and zing of wire
Scald ruts in moving flesh.
Whoosh of nets and sudden crack of guns
Hold down the gelatin that was an eye--
And heaps of trinket feathers and trunkless hides
Are lain on altars for a current god.
Categories:
scald, fashion,
Form:
Free verse
Which Poison do You drink?…………By Peter Onyancha
Which poison do you drink?
When you open your mouth
Your fangs!
Each word is toxic
It leaves a septic wound
Which poison do you take?
When I see you
The shaken body aches
I coil and shiver
From your venom to my fever
Which poison is it?
Raise your arm with brim anger
Bruise me with rancor and scald me
The surgeon and blade
Will piece and stitch
Degree after degree
But your unmetered spittle
Is mortal my Husband!
Which poison do you drink!?
Categories:
scald, depressionme,
Form:
Free verse
I am a dare-dreamer, a mask wearer
a soul bare-r (but not always my own); a word-weaver.
I pull at thoughts like strings. Strings of cobwebs
and cirrus, frayed dungarees and threadbare memories
until I warp and weft strings of thoughts into poems.
Sometimes I get caught in my own knots—
I cut myself loose of those naughty strings.
I hold onto kite strings… oh, and rainbows strings.
They connect my soles to the realm of my soul,
but at times, I lose sight of my kites in the gale.
Was I irresponsible with responsibility for my strings?
I think thoughts need to get lost in clouds and wind;
lost in clouds and wind to find the eye-of-the-storm
where I rescue kites and make a poetry page my stage
and my arena. I twine strings into a heavyweight rope.
Fasten it to four corners of the contest page. I enter,
incognito, with Apollo imagery and Dionysus metaphor;
a masked prize-fighter filled with creative pangst.
I grin for wins in poesy masquerade parades
but when I fail, strings break off of my drama mask.
Revealed but unrecognized, am I just a fractured rainbow?
My inner balcony critic reprimands:
“sunlight through raindrops must be flawless
to create flawless strings of prismatic color”!
Alas, lack of refraction left white words non prismatic.
I restring my tragedy mask; the ego sphere of a versateer.
I create poetry because I love to pluck things;
pluck things like harp strings and heartstrings.
If I no longer make readers cry, will bleat cred be lost?
Don’t think I won’t pluck nightshade petals, fly wings
and cello strings to make you feel my tormentia!
I’ll quiver the lips of lost-in-loss verse. Coax your soul
to sip the pale ale of sorrow —as scents of strawberries
scald your skin. I’m not unhappy to gratify your senses.
I loop a maverick string whirl it and throw—
lasso a funhouse mirror and rein it in.
Imagination dances on stilts in looney glass gaze.
I use my muse strings to hang mirrors and I ask;
who’s the puppeteer and who’s the marionette—
the poet or the reader?
Categories:
scald, art, conflict, identity, inspiration,
Form:
Free verse
The cash and carry of love
Which summer doth requisite
When will thou birth me a dove?
Soon autumn will bid for hunt- 5
To gratify winter’s drudge
Oh! Far is the sight of spring
None can pacify better
For season flies without wings
And quick does it charm scald beauty
Of whose time shall be pleaded? 10
As vaguely summer doth leave
Crow beckons with a caw
The womb that is long barren
Whom for eon is not loved
And in earth’s hate it joy is lost 15
Quick drains life off it victim
Categories:
scald, death, grief, loss, pain,
Form:
The blind self righteous scald dreams
The rotting of robotic conformists
Shadowing every new dawn
Weaving the web of lies snaking around the necks of the sentenced
The punishment of invisibility
A life confined to the masks of the ball
While the truth overwhelms
Alive in the hearts of the condemned
Shrunken beneath the shadows
The intensity of their happiness hidden
Their secret suffering in shrouds
As they are painted grey
The truth in their eyes removed
And shackled to the lines of society
Marching the imperceptible boxed walls
It is melancholic march of the heart wrenched
The unjustified price in avoidance of the public hanging
At the revealing of our truth
Categories:
scald, character, courage, discrimination, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
The new sun hath risen again and shone
O beauteous sun, its flawless perfection it hath shown.
Thus light from it wast of haven impeccably urged,
For the destiny of its evil deeds’ concomitant wast yet purged.
None hiatus in the mist of its smirk to bepaint its gross,
Nor that that it loved so dear, so soon in oddly loss;
To shine t’other side wast its splendour but nought its wish
Nor to scald so deep to clear mistemper’d waterfalls upon earthly dish;
And never to wither the grass in the rejoicing forest,
But to make it lucid of aridness in the brawl against the worst:
The sight of its rays hath misgiven yet some consequence of despise,
Which somewhat didst profane pilgrims all made to paradise.
God asked: ’Sun, would thou likest to pray and die or livest and eat pie?’
The sun smirked, portentous in its tyrannous chariot; and chose to die.
Categories:
scald, sun,
Form:
Sonnet
Bound by the unchained*the brave Scald Behold though pain*knows sacrifice waters hot falls*desires run cold a thrust through awl*thrice the hellish hound Poe with poem*pen the ode scoldDestines rhyme chimes *road ends for death wail flail crux impels*Prince of Life Logic of death's* dawns self -destruct Had they had breath*would not design
Categories:
scald, christian, courage, death, forgiveness,
Form:
Alliteration
blackened sun, miniaturized pencil-point, glued
to an expanse where pillow-clouds once lay in repose
caftaned, toothless droids on broomsticks whiz by, cackling
anvil-hot, clay-red rains scald cracked turf, vapor rising up
where phantasmagoric ice-pellet fireworks burst in the night
~ darkness and death descend -- the final curtain
Categories:
scald, dark, death, science fiction,
Form:
Free verse
Today, Hubby came home with a shaved head
At first, I thought a stranger I'd bed!
The reason he's bald
Our heat wave does scald
At least it's better than locks dredg'd!
Categories:
scald, funny, hair, husband,
Form:
Limerick