Best Scathed Poems
In an abyss of mar;
I was sunk.
My thoughts swimming;
in a pool of masquerade shame.
A dagger in my head;
All I could see was an evening of score.
With a flip of a hand;
Like an angered red dragon.
I breathed fire and redemption;
In the midst of rage and terror.
I had blood on my hands;
All I could hear was a cry from the soil.
In a faction of a second;
My heart had raced.
Thoughts crumbled with confusion.
A wanderer in the desert of oz.
My legs felt like shattered glass.
And all I could think was vengeance.
He had tainted her hands;
Abused them in pain.
She had screamed inside.
A caged animal in a circus.
Unfamiliar territory scared her.
And all I could excrete were tears dry.
With a bow he had decorated her.
A misdeed he did.
It was physical for him,
Emotional damage for her.
Humanity lost inside a cave of bats and bears.
And all I could hear were screams.
Murder she wrote; the opposite.
Beauty like a bunch of roses; yes.
Heart like a garden of roses; yes.
A cactus environment she delved;
With eyes wide shut.
All I could hear were whispers.
With pique like that of a tiger.
I bore teeth, muscle and archery.
Blinded by a trim cloth of red.
A knight’s tale it foretold.
He had hurt my offspring.
All I could see was night.
Emotionally; I covered him with guilt.
Overt, I smeared him with shame.
Physically I scathed him; barbarian.
A man’s title he does not deserve.
Physically I had marked him for the world to see.
And all I could still see was darkness.
He had hurt my offspring.
All I could see was red.
worn glossy finish
corners and edges scathed and torn
layers of dust collected from the years
keys played down and worn
faint scent of old cigars
accented with a hint of alcohol
a beautiful melody slightly off tune
vocal chords of an angel
melodies unmatched even through the ages
Late,
the morning glories rise
passionate, royal, magenta blooms trumpeting,
helloes and goodbyes;
novice neophytes falling
into lavender blush dream states
succumbing to a mellowed change in weather
cooler days awakened by pale aging sunlight
soft, restless breezes
in the trees shedding leaves;
twilight for the foliage
a lurid golden year half-light dulcet dawns,
scarlet carmine sunsets, waning,
whispering not shouting
carnelian nights humming a lullaby,
serene, euphonious,
clouded eyes struggling to remain awake
buddings small and petite,
placid emollients of day;
shaded out of scathed hunter greens
falling to lemon camboge
limed colored oranges,
harvest time citrus afterbites
commencement to vermillion bleedings
September full blood moon phasings,
in crisp kaleidoscope etchings
of a well-painted palette
sepia rusettes, auburn,
ambered melancholia disturbances;
sanguine shortened days,
arboreal sleep, brittle and dry
les Feuilles Mortes.
Mystic Rose contest of Hello September
9/17/21
That is not my elephant
High-stepping in the basement.
Ardently preparing for her pachyderm placement.
Tapping her trunk on the window’s casement.
Instantly intriguing, oh, the fashion statement.
Surprisingly sprightly swinging resplendent pendant.
Nonchalantly swaying as she strolls, compliant.
Opulence sparkles one gorgeous graceful giant.
To top it all off, her temperament is pliant.
Metrical motion moves this perky pageant entrant.
Yesterday’s wildlife intellectually scathed though brilliant –
Ella is my elephant; she wears casual raiment.
Laughs and eats spaghetti, always thinking, ideas salient.
Endlessly explaining the elephant’s Bill of Rights, relevant!
Protecting second graders from every evil social rodent.
Heart-fully relating principles, she is strong and poignant.
An awesome able activist against any aggressive tyrant,
Nurturing each nascent one, noticeably effervescent.
Tenderly flapping her ears, because of pure love’s placement.
© January 15, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Form: Acrostic with monorhyme and alliteration
it had been predicted
the crime of your century
i would figure out
and do it justice
It was written
after many years of famine
and tragedy
the justice i did the crime of the century
would lead you to enlightenment
it was said
the lasting effects of my iron rod
would last for hundreds of years
known as the golden age
it was foretold
the last prophet of the world before jesus
returns at the end of earth when this was undone,
I would do this for you
and he would be annointed
so here it is
the mastermined war code
with potential to end your way of life
sucked into its center, a personal war against war,
in which war protests itself
spiralling out from the center of indifference
and miscommunication
to keep up with the supposed manipulation
the outside layers, a holy essence
as this beasts mission is to prevent itself
walking out with knowledge
to be scathed in your perfection
to take every good advice given in the mentioned cypher
to prevent the end of your life
in which your global enemies will be pinpointed
and peace on earth mastermined
My Iron rod
can be dangerous
for now i wield it with good intent
for now i teach you to come together in unity
to become a global success
this false prophet, dressed up as your historical legacy
this god complex, joke dressed in suicide
it was mentioned i would have an enemy
and with world peace for 300 years at stake
you would not tell them of this under rug swept prophecy
for your enemy to be realised
your global enemy responsible for all wars of earth
this warcode to protect everyone from their own foolery
walk away from this personal war with what is offered
for the next man i label as the antichrist,
may not be found as the blackmailed victom of your organisation
in the matrix of the underground,
the sleight of reality, belief and spirituality
the world deadlocked, and blackmailed for peace
I have an enemy
i t also happens that i have a rash
i am the prophet nostradamus predicted
the last one to be before the end of the world
i am here to lead you to the golden age
and then world peace
this will last for hundreds of years
but having an enemy
i am having difficulty accomplishing my heavenly task
I ask you, “Where might we go:
A land to, or a land fro;
Let the land like a river flow.
Leave yourself behind, and dare,
Dare to know Thoreau.”
Ahh, how the day is
The simplest of all revolutions.
The sun, bright - cannot be missed--
Once departed without ever departing; now
Obvious after lunar-evolution.
The plotting and seeking,
Groping and the hoping:
Blindly in the night
Seeing that which is apart from sight.
But now.
Now, we must depart
To meet our journey…
*Sigh*
See how the sun has risen to set.
Come so far without movement
Tell me: does it regress?
Or is it perhaps, progress.
Disregard my laughter;
For who is the fool?
The fool, or he who follows..
The room takes shape
Darkness illuminates
Like light cracking drapes,
Bare or not, it stimulates..
A stairwell brings inquisition,
Beckoning steps toward the next
And the next and the rest!
Ah yes, the rest,
As many interpretations as a note.
II
See the equations before you,
Like onions-- keep your eyes peeled.
Wryly dancing around thy head.
Stall you tears; fears be shed
Forget the illusion
And any a delusion.
Logic and feeling rotate to portray
This sage's mental ballet.
Voodoo of the mental juju,
With "x2 +y2 = 1" as the tutu.
Confidence in that knowledge
Shall blend solemn passage
For the minute hand is spinning,
The hour hand a'twirling
Let us make haste for:
There was never any
Now will there ever exist
Any time to lay to waste!
Approach the stairs,
Harken that specter-stare!
Alas, in the dark; notice be absolved.
Yonder face far from sight's resolve
Dare to describe it!
A head with shade as pigment
Dark & rich like the night
Translucent in sight.
Eyes leer like pearl
(Allow peace to unfurl)
A face serving witness:
Purely as a pittance
Dread not the shade;
Light astounds from dark's fade
Virgil kept Dante from Oblivion
With true, epic passion
Do not think that face: death
Quotidian rhythm is life's breath.
Leave that Specter
Come, follow your mentor.
See how he fades;
And you nearly bowed, scathed.
Now ascend the stairs,
To who knows where...
Go, before the clock begins
And forsake no secular reins
Buy the ticket. Take the ride.
Quite simply, It seems
Sunken jewels always gleam
Depart into the unknown
No need for any asylum
I lie,
on my large comfort bed..
counting seconds,
syncing my heartbeat,
with the tick of the great white clock,
above my head.
What I'm thinking,
even I do not know..
Clouds have formed on my thoughts...
Fogs have scathed my vision,
hence, I cannot see beyond
the goose trail of old memory..
The wind whooshes in uninvited,,,
with a knowing air,
It tells me...
Oh.... I have forgotten..
I sit up.. and shake my head ruefully..
This blankness,, this emptiness..
This menace of internal unknowingness...
It eats me up...
I know something pegs at my unsettled mind.. But what??
Oh!!!! I remember now,,, only vaguely though..
The wind,, it had said something..
Something about sunshine..
Sunshine on a rainy day..
I stand up... No longer able to contain
the powerful synergy of energy..
Inside me, this surge occurs..
It jolts me, it jostles me here and there - So I walk
Up and down the entire bedroom..
I'm getting something..
Hazy formations,,, silhouettes,,, outlines....
Then, the first images appear..
Blurry at first, but..
as time passes... clearer they become..
I start to understand..
But....
Suddenly, I'm drawn back into the past...
I recall,,, I remember... The hindsight is too powerful for me..
I jump up!!!
And in a matter of seconds,,,
I find myself dancing..
This thing,
that boggled my pristine mind..
I finally know what it is..
But I do not have a name for it yet,,
It's,,, it's a tune,,, it starts with a rhythm..
A konga drum,,,, chimes,, gongs...
Then,,, larger, thicker, hide-drums...
Then... A beat,, syncopated and enthralling..
It's fast... Strong,,, daring...
Then...
Dancing steps..
Dancing...
A voice, raised from a variegated population...
Heart,, beating in sync..
I discern,,,,
Yes...
Sunshine on a rainy day..
Hmm...
My mind is full.. It's near breakpoint..
I am now eager to name this anonymous sensation..
I think...
I think...
Yes...
The name falls to my small ears....
It startles me... But,,, I receive it
with a heart full of dire hope..
I breathe a sigh and let the name out...
"Yuletide", I say..
And as I pant, recovering from the exhilaration,,,
A figure, in red and white
crosses my window...
Merry Christmas....
Just beyond your focus, came a fallout of rage.
There was a silance that had ended by the look on your face.
And I could swear_____ I saw you fall apart, your strength
had turned to weakness as you through up your arms.
I CAN tell when your losing your way.
And it's not fair that your running away.
Your dispositions faded like the jeans that you wear,
and by this challenge thats forsaken because you really don't care.
It's about this matter of dependance that you've already scathed,
so lets head back into the silence so that we don't BREAK away.
And just follow me if you don't know your way,
and I won't tell...........when your running around in circles.
Music leaps from open windows,
gliding down steamy summer rays.
The notes have loud mouths, shouting
out bold, rude barbs of reality.
Hip-hop, rap, heavy metal, all crash...
clanging onto the pavement below, then
flip-flop like a wounded bird.
Dancers trip the light fantastic,
cyclonic feet never stumbling,
shuffling along chalk-marred sidewalks.
Words jumbled in banging heads-
buds in scathed ears, burning hissed tunes
bouncing off graffiti bombed walls.
Pungent fog from strange smoke
crawls out of long black cars with
rears jacked up, rolling down scarred streets,
bouncing up and down with a bad rhythm
from a sad. raucous concert, jerking like
a drunk chicken strutting and kissing the ground.
Pig-tailed girls jump rope, chanting the
"lady with the alligator purse," paying no
attention to strangers staggering by with
lecherous eyes and brown bags holding secrets.
Young boys play stick hockey on cracked walks,
teething on puberty and swearing like crude sailors.
The old woman watches from a top step,
hoping someday the broken bottles will cut
through the chains and lead to a better life.
Ignorant, she walk
As stealth shadows stalk
Pure was her name
Misfortune, her mane
Then out of midnight's light
Comes the wicked of the night
Her desperate struggles
Are flooded with pain
Lost in night rain
The echoes of disdain
Her innocent fears
And unsung tears
Masked in raindrops
Her womanhood scathed
Glowing dreams quenched
As her body lay drenched
Cold, yet hot
Till all hope is lost
Passions unwanted
Pleas neglected
Blood sheared
Whereas evil cheered
O poor soul, have mercy I pray
Saying there is a rock bottom
Absurd to me
One well versed being in pits
I never felt rocks beneath
Hitting rock bottom
Different for each
You might sink down
To a sandy beach.
But that would be
To easy a fate
To be in a pit of hell
And only scathed
On the way down
Rocks of hate
Ripping the soul
Self inflicted as you know
But the sandy bottom
Please don't tell.
It's my secret, I only attest
That it is cold.
I awake and i see the sunrise just as you do.
But at times i feel these clouds cover my mind.
My desire fades and i long to sleep.
Why won't you come and lay beside me?
I feel like it's time to save someone.
To save myself.
Come.
Place your hand in my hand.
Wear your heart on your sleeve.
I guarantee that i will guard it with my life.
Can't you see that i'm here to serve my purpose?
Born an bred an optimist.
I became a chosen pessimist.
I wandered down a broken path.
Unbreak my heart.
I'll show you something that will last.
Forever.
Take a breath.
This is all that i have left.
Broken promises have left me scarred.
Tragedy has locked me behind these iron bars.
Come set me free.
Give me something to believe in and i'll show you a bleeding heart.
Full of passion.
My patience has worn thin. I've been abandoned.
Lead astray.
Now take my hand.
Let's walk this way.
You are the sun and you are the stars that wipe away the clouds.
You are the drug that keeps me calm and sane.
A light in this darkened world.
The Hell i have created for myself.
The trials and tribulations that have left me scathed.
All the times i have been betrayed.
Trust lost.
I know you are not the same.
Trust in me as i have trusted in you.
I'll take your hand and no longer tremble in fear.
I'm not asking for much.
Just for a few moments to pick up the pieces.
The clock is ticking.
Distance has separated itself from me.
As you draw near i have nothing to fear but fear itself.
What is there to believe?
Have faith.
Find hope.
Believe in something.
Someone.
Do something with the cards you have been dealt.
Make a move.
The only thing you have to lose is time.
A restless soul.
Sleepless nights have taken their toll.
Break the cycle.
This is our time to pursue the hopes and dreams you have held close.
The hour glass is spilling.
Look me in the eyes.
This is our time to rise.
You are a friendly face in the crowd.
Hear my heart beat loud.
You have repaired the damage.
Let's take advantage of the time placed in front of us.
Outnumbered
1756 to one
I stood alone
I stood
Alone
In a culture of music
Unlike anyone else's
Flogging Molly
Scathed my back
With mad plaid in my mind
And Was Beder Das
Youth of rebellion
I stand true.
My feelings are in express
Of the unfathomed inside myself
I find that I am in pain
Of a friendless battle alone
Lost I seem to wander
Going from one spot to another
But I am not emotionless
I just am in painful spouts
Feeling alone can hurt more
Than anything else, a wound
That carries much more salt
Than it does a cool gentleness
Hot stabbing pain enters me
From all corners of my heart
For alone I am in this life
And no one to care about me
But even more than that
No one that I can care about
This emptiness grown more
Each day it rips me apart
Till I feel the gapingness of it
And nothingness abounds inside
This hollow soul rests scathed
And bothered by the endless
Rattles of this unfriendly Earth
Battling the demons of my past
As well at the loss of future hope
That I may find somewhere a friend…
Russell Sivey
I saw Him,
The man I killed;
Wrapped in shame and pain;
Dejected and rejected by His own!
Surrounded by a vicious brood of vipers
Their vile tongues
Ululating doom;
Profaning the Holy of holies,
Blaming Him for innocence!
We saw Him,
The man we killed
A huge tree on His back;
Scathed and battered like a thief!
See how He stumbles and falls.
A sad sight!
Globules of Holy blood
Dropping on unholy ground,
Soaking the desert dust;
Sacredness mingling with profanity!
An indescribable spectacle!
See Him;
The man you and I killed!
See how they disrobe Him,
Exposing impaled flesh;
Dust, splinters and blood on His back.
A sight too awful for words.
His garments peeled off,
To expose nakedness that reveals perfect love
Of a father for His children.
Willingly He lies
On a wooden beam!
Passionate to trade His life with mine!
Lovingly He spreads His arms on wood.
Nails so sharp
Tear through the wrists
Of the Saviour of nations!
Pain throbbing through
His arms and legs!
Holy blood gushing from all sides
Of the body of the Saviour of men!
We see Him,
A man who fills our eyes
With swamps of tears,
Even as His head falls
In total acceptance to death,
He still looks beautiful!
For He trades His life for mine!
Hardly knowing what we did
We killed him!
You killed him!
I killed Him!