Best Scalded Poems
I once heard the whisper of falling snow,
saw a spark in the eye of a coal-black crow,
felt the power and awe of a swift river's flow,
the older I get, the less I know.
My hair was once braided in golden cornrows,
by Jamaican friends in an island below,
a psychic once asked me about Jericho,
the older I get, the less I know.
The hot southern asphalt that scalded my toe,
the rope swing that swung us, to and fro,
Christmas Eve and the tree in the firelight's glow,
the older I get, the less I know.
Everyone's gone, but where did they go?
Why is my spirit sinking so low?
Is it true we reap only what we sow?
the older I get, the less I know.
©2010 DanielleWhite
Categories:
scalded, allegory, angst, health
Form:
Monorhyme
S o many tears are paid with precious blood,
I mbued with promise, chaste and innocent,
G one quickly with a brash and frantic flood,
N ot worthy of their hopes or grand intent.
O h, how can any mind with senses, rife,
F ind pathways to such twisted rationale ...
T o wholly disregard the worth of life,
H ot on the heels of infamous morale?
E ach time a senseless killing claims a soul,
T he questions start again of who's to blame,
I nside the brittle bones of hate's control,
M ore marrow, scalded by an ancient flame.
E mpires are built and crushed, as Time defines ...
S o sad, we always fail ... to read its signs.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Sign Of The Times" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Sponsor.
Categories:
scalded, appreciation, hate, humanity, violence,
Form:
Acrostic
(after Alfred de Vigny)
He glided through the somber pines,
a shark in surly ocean.
In truth, I loved his sleek, low lines,
the danger in his motion.
Wild creatures do the best they can
to keep their young ones fed,
and I'm ashamed to be a man -
I shot the snow wolf dead.
The first ball doesn't always kill.
He'd need another round.
I tracked his blood up Cullen Hill,
to where he'd gone to ground.
To meet with death, he chose his place
under a dogwood tree:
as I beheld his handsome face,
he blazed fierce eyes at me.
He knew the game was up at last,
nowhere to run or hide:
but in that glare, a meaning passed
that's scalded me inside.
I saw acceptance in his look,
and dignity, and hurt.
And wonder, at the time I took,
as I knelt in the dirt.
"It's how it is," the green eyes said,
"to moan or whine is weak.
You've done for me. I'll soon be dead.
There are no words to speak."
I did it with my hunting knife,
then wept hard for my friend.
I pray I'll own his grace in life,
his courage at my end.
Categories:
scalded, animal,
Form:
Quatrain
Time--it moves like a scalded cat,
And I--I creep like a snail.
Like a long tailed cat in a lawn mower's path,
I am nearing the end of my tale.
Now, it's said that you're only as old as you feel,
And aging, they say, doesn't hurt,
But, try to believe you're as young as you feel,
When you feel like you're older than dirt.
Categories:
scalded, funny, life, time,
Form:
Priceless pearls scattered as the necklace
Was snapped, ripped away by greedy
Hands, envious of your sublime beauty
And even gentler encouragement. Bounc’d
Every one of them cross cobblestones, cracks,
And down the storm drain irretrievable.
Holding that golden empty promise string
Your fountain of tears so scalded my soul.
Could I but hold you, say comforting words,
I would have. But words are trite when the heart
Is blistered in injustice’s heat.
We gathered what we could, returning
To the Sea, knifing open more oysters
Restringing your dream, one pearl at a time.
Categories:
scalded, betrayal, heartbroken, hurt,
Form:
Sonnet
In the coffee shop
A mistimed twist
By the barista
Caused a hissing
Coffee jet to
Ballista towards
My sister and I
Worried it would
Hit her wrist and
Give her a blister,
But fortunately
It missed her.
The manager scolded
The ham-fisted barista,
But since no-one was scalded,
He didn’t dismiss her.
Categories:
scalded, humor, humorous, silly,
Form:
Free verse
Through change’s thickets,
a frayed and scratched soul bare.
But when they wanted my kids,
trust, the antidote of despair.
Mercy the sickle upon thorns,
wielded by a noble prayer.
Surprised by an Aunt.
Took her funeral for me to find
her shine, testaments to
a paragon, the selfless kind.
Legacies bleed stains
as life’s pages, we bind.
A poetry community project
betrayed its own art to declare
that for gold’s empty promise,
others mocked and did not care
Vanity’s absolute abstracts
spilled soup, scalded many there.
To Love, when it has you fight
or allows the sight to endear.
For as the vapor is a life,
our memories to disappear.
All but the three enshrined,
from the harvest of this year.
--------------------------------------------
Contest: My abiding memory
Sponsor:Viv Wigley
Written: 01.09.16
Categories:
scalded, appreciation, betrayal, love, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Modest swimsuits, bathing boxes
White-blue flesh ice cold
Scratchy towels, sandy sandwiches
Pots of tea being sold
Foxford blankets, picnic baskets –
A donkey ride on the strand
Flowery summer frocks, mischief brimming
A practical joke being planned
Hesitant breast strokes – high pitched laughter
Terror, delight ‘the cold’! -
Sunburn, windburn, scalded skin –
‘You’ll remember this when you are old’
Your mother is calling ‘the picnic is ready’
‘I’ll be there in a minute’, you say.
As you dive down again under –
The sea bed to plunder -
‘There is treasure down there, Mam’ you say!’
Landladies’ rules, pubs with high stools
‘– A large bottle, sir, if you please -
And may be a chaser?’ ‘You are a disgrace, sir -
The night will blow away with the breeze’.
A day at the races, smiles on mens’ faces,
Jingles in pockets, dinner in ‘Rocketts’ -
A beer and a ***, a joke and a drag –
‘This is grand, Sir!’
Which horse do you fancy – I think Mary Nancy
Called after his missus – and just as delicious
‘A winner for sure, sir
And what are you bettin’? Think of what you’ll be gettin’
When you win on the jackpot –
It is certain, sir!’
Sea-side rock plastic,
Coloured windmills fantastic
Naughty postcards to be hidden
– Their content forbidden,
By your mother –
The day’s nearly over –
You are tired – you’ll recover
For a night at the amusements – you have one and twopence
Clean clothes, polished shoes and a song.
Categories:
scalded, childhood, nostalgia, night, mother,
Form:
Prose Poetry
RED MAPLE MEMORIES
Winters have ravaged me
twisted and broken my limbs
scalded me with burning winds
I miss the birds nest
torn from my grasp
by an icy gale
Spring tickles my roots
sets my sap to percolating
awakens my purpose
I long for the mist filled dawn
sweet trickling dew dripping
on my budding blush
Summers have soothed and parched
my crimson canopy, acknowledging
the cool succor of my shade
I miss the boy
his laughter, his imagination
climbing through my history
Fall, ah beautiful fall,
cool breezes reddening my cheeks
readying a soon to fall quilt
I smile at the antics of the squirrels
hear the good-byes of the travelers
stretch, shiver, succumb to sleep
8/25/2015
submitted to – Trees Personified Poetry Contest
Categories:
scalded, memory, seasons, tree,
Form:
Personification
The untimed snow rushed insulted against the glassed shoulders on the poster,
and they were made of paper, they were bare…
It cried, scalded, on the painted, colorful faces,
and they were made of paper, they were bare…
Its outraged tears transformed into tears of joy,
and through them they were still smiling,
not caring for the bitter cold,
in defiance of the delayed spring,
Because they knew,
It could not wash away their colors,
It could not cover their bare shoulders.
Categories:
scalded, allegory, allusion,
Form:
Blank verse
I don’t take a buzz saw up a tree, no never,
I take a hand saw, it’s safer;
and it’s clear, right up to the sighs of the
intense, crafty-blue sky;
no pressing customers, no G-men,
no pressured decision making, just me
and the blue sky
and I’ve got all the gear, the goggles, the harness,
the hard hat, the special skin-sheltering gloves;
and between the scalded branches and falling
bird’s-nests, I can see the chicks pass by below,
on the cement-tickled street; and their high-minded
heels, and delectable, swaying boughs, say high-di-high!
shameful! you whisper; I know, I know.
Categories:
scalded, nature, sexy, space, summer,
Form:
Free verse
On a sofa we're lying
My true love and I
She's wiggling and sighing
She thinks I'm touching her thigh
She's getting excited and passionately we kiss
But I am most curious to find out what made her like this
I soon find the culprit who is making her sing
A beautiful butterfly flickering its gossamer wings.
The butterfly rises gracefully into the air
We carry on our passion without any care
Caressing each other’s bodies your words I love to hear
Whispering your sweet nothings into my waiting ear
Slowly you undress me I can feel my beating heart
Our bodies come together I hope they never part
Soon we are making love our bodies rise and fall
Gosh we better hurry up my mother’s due to call
We never heard Mum knocking and more alarmingly
When she came into the room you were sat on top of me
Don't mind me she whispers, Carry on oh daughter mine
Be sure to ride your stallion to the winning line
Then she went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea
Leaving us on the sofa, Giggling uncontrollably
We walked into the kitchen both wearing a deep red glow
She scalded, Don't be silly, I was young once myself you know.
That night as we lay in bed my hand cupping your breast
I thought I felt that butterfly landing on my chest
Then I realised it was deep inside where I felt those tiny feet
My heart was growing more content with every single beat
Next evening in your little black dress you look a true sensation
The night we had looked forward to exceeded both of our expectations
Everything was perfect, the meal, the wine, the dance
Forever we'll have memories of our butterfly romance
26th May 2014
Written By Jan Allison & Darren Watson
Categories:
scalded, butterfly, humorous, romantic, mum,
Form:
Rhyme
Since toilet tissue is so hard to find
He bought a bidet to cleanse his behind
With the very first flush
Cletus scalded his tush
To use again he was not too inclined
Categories:
scalded, humorous, scary,
Form:
Limerick
A stranger once offered me
A cup of hot chocolate.
He looked awfully familiar
So, smiling, I accepted it
As I gaze at the light drizzle outside.
But the boiling brew
Warmed my body not
Nor it unfroze my cold, lonely heart.
It was molten live coals. Furiously it burnt
On my tender pink.
Wincing, I
Drew back but, oh!
Too late.
Rich, milky, burnt-sienna
Had scalded pale pink
So badly it left a lasting
Sting
And an icy-cold heart.
I take no more hot chocolate
From any stranger ever since.
Tongues and lips heal
But not hearts.
Mine never thaws.
And what stings more
Than the bitter, dark, hell-brewed chocolate,
Bubbling-hot and vicious on dear lips,
Is how I now see that
Everyone is a stranger to
Me.
Categories:
scalded, chocolate, dark, drink, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Such an ugly thing
looking back at me
with your so-called eyes
conceived in dirt
nothing but a storage cellar
for the top green which itself
is less than remarkable
with a flower so
easily dismissed.
Who gathers potato seeds?
who even needs
potato seeds?
If they had them
who would plant them?
No one that's who.
Sexless reproduction is the
trademark of the potato
"just hack off an eye
throw it in the mud"
another potato grows.
Once a healthy food
now scorned
by fat and thin alike.
High GI you know.
Nothing but starch in there.
Not fried
not baked
not boiled, scalded, or scalloped
no sir
no thanks
no potatoes
no way.
And
isn't this cute?
when potatoes are in a group
they feel the need to put an "e"
where no "e" needs to be.
I'm sorry Mr. Potatoe
but you're no tomatoe.
Categories:
scalded, funny
Form:
Light Verse