Best Scarred Poems
Born-torn, scorned and scarred.
Baby's thrown like a bone, choked and charred.
Raised by a mother shackled to Meth,
Dismissed by a father, deserted and left.
Itching for a fix, Mom hunted a high.
Twisting white truth, entangled in lies.
Selling sob stories with emotional pleas,
She abandoned her kin with relative ease.
Time ticked by to the beat of a tear.
Hate accelerates with the fleeting year.
Shattered remnants marked her absent roll.
Mother’s hiatus fueled a bitter soul.
A lonesome heart thuds with empty space.
A drug dubbed “love” was never replaced.
Despite the embrace of another’s clutch,
The kid still cried for mother’s touch.
Born-torn, scorned and scarred.
Baby's thrown like a bone, choked and charred.
Raised by a mother shackled to Meth,
Dismissed by a father, deserted and left.
Scarred and Blackened
In Tasmania’s rugged but scenic South West
Lies an ancient land of pristine wilderness
Protected by a World Heritage Listing
An eco-system a thousand years nesting
A land of Aboriginal spiritual dreamtime
Where rare native flora survives, like Pencil Pine
And fauna abound on the Button Grass plains
With rugged mountain ranges never tamed
Hunter Gatherers burned to reduce the fuel load
The protectors now heading down the wrong road
By letting the fuel build to immense dimensions
A massive fire just waiting to turn the land ashen
The spirit of storm clouds gathers up high
For the rangers this is pleasing to the eye
But alas, this building spiral of cloud is dry
Just building thunder heads in the sky
The inner circle of the clouds one big mass
Intermingle, then with violence they clash
Spewing bolts of lightning to the ground
But not a drop of precious rain to be found
A searing bolt of lightning grounds
Amid the drought-stricken pencil pines
An explosion of sparks, then flames
A fire is born the lightening to blame
Spreading quickly with the brisk westerly winds
The fire races through the dry Button grass plains
A massive cloud of smoke drifts east
Alerting the protectors to this massive beast
The call goes out for fire fighters and water bombers
As the black smoke causes concern to near-by loggers
For the fire now a catastrophic inferno
Consuming the wilderness like no tomorrow
The water bombers and man-power useless
Against this cataclysm of wild fire that has unleashed
Thousands of acres of pristine wilderness
Now blackened and scared, a nothingness
For weeks it burned, some 100,000 acres
Now tamed by remote area fire-fighters
But the scars from the fire yet to discover
A landscape that will take years to recover
Global warming, to blame many think
As this South-West area was always wet
Many years of below average rainfall
Perhaps Mother-Nature having her revenge
Feigned love cut you deep,
left your heart bleeding profusely
Blood red, rose-colored stains,
drip, drip, dripping trail leading out the door ...
time to mop up this mess of a relationship
Wring all the tears into the bucket,
flush it out of the system ... get clean again
Can't let hate infection set in,
your fragile heart has to mend
Stunned by the deliberate stab,
a betrayal of a lover's trust
It hurt even more
when a twist came with the thrust
No one ever told you that pain
would be a derivative of the pleasure game
In your weakened state,
delirious passions swirl in your mind
Flashing images of past sated desires ...
you moan feverishly in the night
Love withdrawal has such a narcotic bite
And time doesn't heal the wound quite properly,
you're left with scar tissue on the soul
Touch it gently with your mind,
and feel the oddest sensation ... like phantom arousal
It sickens you that you feel pleasure
from neural memories
of when your two bodies pressed together as one
It frightens you that you still have these type of feelings
for someone who merely regarded you as a sex toy
Then cast you aside,
and tried to kill your soul and steal your joy
You must face your fears;
the thing you desired so, almost was the death of you
But you lived on with a scarred soul,
and much wisdom gained:
from disfigurement, your true beauty now shines through
The window to my soul's barred ~
I had left it open once,
but you did not tread lightly,
you stepped all over my heart
and crushed my belief in love;
my tears made me stronger, strong
enough to bar it again ~
now all that is left are scars.
10.20.2020
Visual 2
For Nette Onclaud's "Impressions" contest
There she was, sad and bereft,
weeping hard with troubled signs,
lone, desolate she was left,
walking midst overgrown vines,
Love memories she did hold,
reminiscing them, she’d soar,
but that day, gloom did enfold,
as tears continued to pour,
The graveyard was neglected,
hued leaves and branches lay there,
it made her more dejected,
the feel of death in the air,
She would clutch on to grim thoughts,
when she did inhale his scent,
her heart would tie up in knots,
that fragrance made her lament,
He was alive in her heart,
but felt so tangible here,
where his grave drove them apart,
but where she could grasp him near,
Losing herself in mind’s maze
with a sob, a gasp, she cried,
she wandered there in half-daze,
in recollections she’d glide,
To this day, she finds comfort
when she visits his graveyard,
tears would clasp her heart in hurt,
her love’s death has left her... s c a r r e d.
06.29.2021
For Constance La France's "Writing Prompt - Grasp" contest
Mirrored memories, glaring shards,
beam countless points of light, glass hard,
about my mind. I did not know,
you still could reach my soul. Love glow--
thought dead--moons, reflecting off my heart, sun scarred.
Copyright, September 1, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Condemned to fifty lashes.
Skin split...blood flowed
from the quivering flesh.
Helpless, she suffered the pain.
Time healed the deep wounds
leavings ugly scars on her back
a stark reminder of injustice,
shouldering the blame for being
an innocent victim of male rape.
Permanently, she carries the scars,
ugly, yet beautiful....
when compared to the invisible
emotional scar that hurts forever.
--------------------------------------
24th November 2015
Contest: Beautiful scars
Author: Paul Callus
Sponsor: Laura Urbaniak
Placed 2nd
Grief that constricts my heart,
Cages its screaming walls,
Grinding its bars roughly into its flesh…
Where they meet, blood oozes,
Life does what it chooses,
Heart shies away from the pain of its mesh.
[unsure as to whether to continue]
the streets are scarred for good and we know it
after the hits of untamed hearts
after this abstract damage of cyclic returnings
there's a window in my chest
a sight of iron garden and crystal steam
where colour of poplars recalls
moss in the living room
and her veins in the dark
the skies are striped of equinox sabbath
over the cities full of empty people
cities full of mannequins
over the valleys of sordid poppies
perfumed mists and magnetic trees
as my shoes walk around the moonlit woods
through cobblestone plains, by mythic fields
the war of kisses rages in gravel pits
on days like these
these octagon days
and there's a storm in the kitchen sink
there's debris for dinner
the orchestra of germs in a room of dahlia
invokes all the nymphomaniac angels
all air rats and arachnid armies
with passion of cold-blooded lovers
oh, what a circus!
that's why my luggage is haunted
in floodlands, ready to depart
for the taxidermy heaven
for I'm the king of the sandcastle
just a smoke child on a paper planet
with glass floors and concrete shoes
and yellow lorries in umbrella lakes
with my brain lantern and pet mallacoderm
the rabid rooster will guide my way
down the bronze boulevard
with chocolate six-shooter in my hand
only because the streets are scarred by our love
and we know it
Two tragedies made a man bitter and hard.
Life became intolerable after he was scarred.
On Christmas Day his granddaughter fell in his pool and drowned.
Because of that terrible accident, that poor girl is no longer around.
When he found her dead body, he was horrified by what he saw.
Just six months earlier, he also lost his daughter and son-in-law.
Now he hates Christmas more than he would a plague.
Just the mention of Christmas fills this man with rage.
This man became so bitter that his heart is now as black as coal.
Those tragedies destroyed his life, they sure did take their toll.
His granddaughter was taken far too soon, she was only five.
Ten Christmases have passed since but he still mourns because they didn't survive.
(This is a fictional poem)
Beautiful Scars
At Nancy’s birthday party,
Before her friends came in,
She reminded her mom
Of the shape her hands were in.
“They’re so scarred and ugly
I don’t want my friends to see.
Cover your hands with gloves,
They’re as awful as can be.”
The girls were very happy,
It was such a joyful day.
Busy in the kitchen,
Mom’s gloves got in the way.
She smiled as she made the things
She knew her daughter wished,
Removed the gloves for a moment,
As she made a party dish.
She forgot about the gloves,
As she served the birthday cake.
But upon seeing Nancy’s face,
She realized her mistake.
Her friends saw the scars
And Nancy’s dreadful fears,
As she left the party
In a flood of tears.
She marched up to her room
Without saying a thing.
She didn’t know the heartache
Her mother’s hands could bring.
Mom rushed in behind her
While she sobbed there on the bed.
Her little body trembled,
And this is what she said—
“Oh Mommy, Mommy!
I am so ashamed!
My friends will never like me,
And you’re the one to blame!”
Tears came to her mother’s eyes,
As she breathed a heavy sigh.
She knew it was time to tell her,
So this was her reply—
“Nancy, when you were just a baby,
And times were very hard,
I suddenly smelled some smoke
While working in the yard.
“I turned to see the house
Was filling up with flames.
I ran real fast inside
And to your crib I came.
“I quickly grabbed a blanket,
The only thing I could do.
The fire was burning me,
But I kept it off of you.
“So, now you know what happened,
And how my hands got burned.
I didn’t want to tell you,
But some day you would learn.”
Nancy turned toward her mother,
With a look of sheer surprise,
Her heart was filled with sorrow,
As tears fell from her eyes.
She threw her arms around her,
And quickly kissed her neck.
She learned a life-long lesson
That she would not forget.
Mom told Nancy and her friends
About a Bible time,
Of other scarred hands—
Hands that were divine!
James Tate Nov 21, 2015
CH. His nail scarred hands shows me the way. His nail scarred hands holds my hand.
When I'm lost when I'm afraid. His nail scarred hands shows me the way.
VI. I heard Thomas didn't believe until he saw them for himself. Nobody else doubted
Jesus, 'cause His nail scarred hands was on the cross.
"I wear a mask so people won't ask, 'Why are you still grieving?' It's because I want to go on believing that I'll be with my loved ones once more." Quote by poem's author
This wounded heart of mine yearns to retreat
into a world where memories beg to entreat
the illusion that loved ones I sorrowfully miss
will return to share an embrace; a tender kiss.
In this imperfect world, where we mortals die,
death has darkened my happiness, and I cry
for those I've loved and lost. Bereft and torn,
I sail on grief's galleon where alone, I mourn.
I'll not bare my misery nor tears on my cheek.
I wear a mask to disguise that I've become weak.
A facade so my tears won't need to be explained
and why my broken heart is scarred and pained.
I will admit I'm flawed, damaged, and defective.
In my mirror I see a face cracked and reflective,
but no one knows I cry myself to sleep each night.
I keep my emotions well-hidden and out of sight.
June 21, 2021
Writing Prompt - Flawed - Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
(The Poem is about young love which ends after a one night stand.
The villain Rain seduces and makes love to the Protagonist, Young Earth, and leaves
her with a cold stare without even a word of Love)
It rained that night,
the summer respite.
"Dry days are over,"
my heart mused, forever blind.
Dew drop kisses,
caressed the tresses,
wet wave seeped,
hardening almond bunches.
During the darkest hour,
was the non-stop shower.
Winds with power,
left the deepest scar.
Bright Sabbath followed in vain,
couldn't conceal my pain,
when I saw through the rainbow,
the smirk of the grey cold sky.
Hush child, wipe those tears
The demons are away
They're not after you, I promise
It's just the cold weather.
Hush child, I hear you sob
The monsters are gone
They're not after you, I promise
It's just shadows in the dark.
Hush child, I know, you're hurting
These demons and monsters are mine
It's just me, I promise
And all my cold shadows.