Best Singed Poems
Enroling you a worm (cumbersome and)
hairy, you- scimitar of leaves
Knows the pain ,writhing pupae
Abandoned and convicted
Constricted hanging straightjacket
Squirming like a jackrabbit
Gagged nocturnally - blindfold humility
Rejected by those mocking moths
and jealously believing left the key
Both found our grace on bended knees
..left there dangling from a tree..
Unhinge now those spinakers of glory
Pretty - flaky- flinder
Streaked in splatters paint
Dust of the fairies
Gaze at me with criss-cross eyes
Innocent beauty oh ye butterfly
Spiny antennae, stretching out transmitters
Taking flight so easily
Flitting off with no goodbyes
To a newer afternoon over there
Dashing in the sun
Kneeding and gouging all those zinnias
Joy! Slurping up the nectar
Whisky! Tequila! Brandy and Champagne!
Swops them for a chorus of pansies
Dancing blooming flowers
Crazy blessed colours
Bouncing delight.- erratic in flight
Dodging in between the bees
O enchanted mystic butterfly
Only pausing for a while
Hold me in your spell
For you walked that crooked mile
Linger in this dream
So seldom comes to see
Just as you, my timepiece too
Is coiled in spring
A dustpuff within the wind
Specked all over pollen confetti
Envied now by every moth
Suicidal circle - one kamikaze candle
Seared and singed and slowly fried
Getting what theyre vetted for
But the sun his laughing in his sky
Beseeching all the yet to open flowers
Awake !Awake!
An angel is coming by
The rain outside plays games with the webs that cloud my mind,
I think I hear a tune. A drum solo that heralds memories buried deep
and sealed in concrete. Even the locked safe with five feet deep of steel
can not resist the lightning strike of the Goddess of Thunderstorms...I
...i think of you.
A pain from yesteryears thought dead rises from the ashes...
I think...No!
No! I will fight this.
Forget when I flew too close to the sun
my feathered wings singed.
I fight...I do...I try...I do...but I...
i think of you...
You,
your fresh baked sugar cookie scent,
your China Doll moonlight white complexion.
I think of you...and I...I weep
I on the mountain, exposed
as vultures tear at my flesh.
Devour my organs like so much fodder
and everyday whole again...
the creatures hover to start anew.
In my sorrow,
in my physical pain
I attempt to resist...but I...
i think of you.
Iodine flows through my veins.
My screams echo.
My blood drenched tears
flow like a mountain stream
and i pray
and i whisper the word "mercy"
and still...
still...I
i think of you.
March 16 2015
Armand
Raging fires roared, yet nothing could hold her back;
she was born in flames...
Sadly, that which helps forge vitality, indubitably, burns.
Embers soon seek refuge in blanketed debris,
praying to fade as apathy attempts to nurture injury.
Mercy, I beg, draw near and peel back ashen veil;
enable compassion, tenderness, and understanding to elicit
tears of gratitude, for they are certain to ignite abandoned flames!
Let passion's fire forever radiate deeply within this and every soul.
May all come to know her warmth, be guided by her light,
feel her rapture in righteous endeavors, and
nevermore become singed nor devoured
by her eternal blaze.
PEACE, LOVE & JOY TO ALL
2020
Veterans Day Out..
"To all of us from America, and beyond.
We hold a connection that will forever bond.
The reflection Of Veterans Day,
We'll march with gratitude on this one certain Holiday.
Prayers and thanks will be filled with solemn pride.
To the heroism of those who died.
We'll praise and honor every name and memory~
To all the men and women who fought throughout history.
In celebration we honor America's veterans for their patriotism, of willingness.
For the love of our country, they served and sacrificed with their best service."
Victory ~History~ A singed Treaty~ 11-11-1918
Mends to an end of “the war to end all wars.” Welcoming 11-11-11
Dedicated to Veterans throughout the world and History...
In Honor and memory of all Veterans...
by;p.d.
Your wings aren't broken,
just bruised and singed.
From holding them too tightly
against the burning breast of indifference.
Battling storm, surf, sweet siren songs
blood fish praying for your falter...
but you fought them off one by one.
Atop the waves
you've seen many beautiful things...
that little patch of green dancing on the sea.
Where you landed ever so briefly.
Salted eyes tended by birds of paradise.
They sent you off with satchel ...
filled with shell and song.
Each offered a feather to blunt the alone.
Remember that smiling dolphin
the one with mirrors in the eyes
offering silver shoal and golden heart
to rest your weary soul and mind.
Then you sang a duet with him
a nearly perfect -pearly blend
of sweet chirps and minty clicks.
You almost stayed but fliers are not of the sea,
swimmers are not of the sky...
so, you just drifted by... on by.
Here you are today
perched upon a graveyard fence.
Huddled in a nest of pure blackness,
Isn't it time to unfurl those wings again.
Soar onto the next journey...
Wear the colors of paradise
offer a shell to the surf
to quell the forever hurt.
Another dolphin awaits you
this one has rainbows in the eyes
and the divine gift of gilded flight.
Abuses hurled and Alcohol gurgled,
In the vortex of confusion
And blurred vision.
Intoxicated pleasure from surreal leisure.
Fooled senses and numbed conscience.
Wiped existence of love and kindness cuffed.
Lashed at the one he once loved.
Cringed and clung to her faint faith.
She and her cursed fate.
Exploding paroxysm of hate.
Her whipped ivory skin and bleeding lips,
Eyes with teary tinge,
Has the harvest moon singed.
Stillness of the night, pierced
By memories of bitterness-sodden years.
"Hurt me not", she trembled with fear,
"let me live for my girl, dear".
The cries colored skies crimson.
Just one reason--Her little girl.
As her daughter stared
With flaming locks and eyes that flared.
By Angom Amy (15)
Finally, as afternoon sun splayed
through the picture window
onto wood floor and last pieces of furniture,
I packed that summer on the lake
into a box, mitering indigo corners
between squares of bubble wrap,
ripples appliqued with lilac jacaranda blooms
blown on the water.
Kids would leave for college and grandparents died,
but that year bees hovered in marigolds and violet alyssum.
The moon's marshmallow singed umber, impaled on a hanger
over golden flames. Dawn's opalescence would flicker
in pale aquamarine, receding shadows uncovering
beads of cerulean icing and pink lemonade shimmering
on shamrock and juniper.
Tiers of skinned knees and runny noses now framed
by cardboard and plastic were stacked like red velvet cake
atop a knotty pine picnic table as terns called in the distance,
then sealed with oak and concrete of our final day as we cannon-balled
off dock's end like it was the last thing we'd ever do.
Do come, my love, for I insist!
Within the darkest crevices of time, we fight, we cry, I die
As vision gives us knowledge, we descend farther into the grime
Curiouser and curiouser, we fall in dark crevices of time
Molded by imagination’s ink, the tentacles stretch outward
Singed from top to bottom, see the glorious coals sparkle
Yes, even before their completion into diamonds never comparable,
It is the very time in between the transformation that enchants the very soul
For in this time, I see the very worst of you,
How it shines without shame, aching to be tempered,
Crushing to prevail over its creators,
The tentacles squirming in hollow defense,
Ink spreading in the dark blue waters of deepest sorrow and agony
How your beak ever pecks upon its prey,
Dashingly exquisite, its sharpness—petulant in its purpose
And I say to you, as you destroy—come, for I shall not back away
When the weapons you hold fall upon my budding flesh
Growing despite the damages you have made
Come, my love, come!
See how my wounds have me, exalt me, trust me…
Into a reality I deeply fall, forcing you upon your knees
For how I know, through your destructing ways,
That together I will always make us be
Come, my love, for I die,
Heavy in the ecstasy of grief,
See how the fairy trees dance upon woes and lift hearts like plucked flowers
How demons with tempting eyes move as squealing moths crawl toward our fires
Wishing the burn of the coals, yet never touching such change
How the light floods through and through, to every dark corner and fissure
Licking the bonding surfaces with perfumed oils crackling
The black tentacles scatter outwards, forming a wall around the growing blaze
My eyes close—from those very eyes you came
Descending to ascend, my love you crave
Trusting the time I have tamed in last feat,
You rise into the everlasting restoration of our name
the unzipped match —
a flame that heats the tips of fingers,
those sensitive appendages
that linger,
upon the cheek,
the whiskers.
erogenous zones touched by the flame,
like candles arouse
compatible birthday suits.
the cherry red matchstick
plumps up her lips
making them magnetic.
his lips and ruby tongue
pulled into
the black hole of her being.
their own haven of forest
in flames —
no longer tame.
the full force of desire
moves over her neck
her shoulders,
lower and lower,
leaping higher and higher.
flesh singed —
in the end both become smokers
in bed.
9/25/2019
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I reached for it~
the way one gropes
for a light switch in an unfamiliar room,
fingers brushing the dark,
expecting edges, warmth,
but finding only air.
What was it?
A name half-whispered,
a key left dangling in a lock,
a joke without its punchline
dissolving into static.
Now it circles,
a moth with singed wings,
dizzying the periphery~
so close I taste its rust,
so far it might as well be
the shadow of a crow
passing over the sun.
I laugh, mostly to stop
the hollow in my ribs from echoing
the same old question:
What was I thinking?
But the mind is a sieve,
and some thoughts
are meant to slip through~
small, silver minnows
vanishing into deeper water.
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
singed by sullen Sol, not stayed by Poseidon's hand;
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Impenitent, sky rains ash blackening the night.
Fire sends a smoky pall upon the sea and land,
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Fire eats: the air, snuffs man's breath; highlighting their plight,
all hands on deck, the Captain calls, out his command.
Aflame, aflame, tall ship burns, see their masts ignite.
Hell's inferno comes calling on this sun lit night,
foul winds blow, fire roars, and so the flames are fanned;
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Without their ship, crews are lost to a debtors blight.
Up the went like scarecrows shriven by the brand,
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Cinder shower catch the dock; workers run in fright.
Pain and heartache fill the wharf; still, they must disband.
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Keelmen Heaving in Coals by Night' by Turner
Published by Dual Coast 2014
I'm but a frail bird tasked to bring hope and spread peace.
How shall I fly high in the sky with such a brittle burden!
My heart pounds in dilemma like a ping pong ball as I release
my wings in the air to take a flight at the height of a dark sky.
As dark as it can be, above me, the cauldron-black sky
with scary scars of blazing explosions emitting blinding light.
Beneath me, the brazier ground groaning with an outcry,
shedding tears of sparks that vaporize into nebulous smokes.
In between is the whizzing of weapons, excreting smokes
and urinating radiation that smothers the air with brutality.
Warhead rockets, firing aircraft, missiles, bombs...stoke
the fire of war for the sake of supremacy by killing morality.
Shrills of ruination buried under the roars of madness spree
while the two-legged demons having a bloodbath with big guns.
Colors of bliss faded away and helpless time trying to flee
as achromic misery taints moments with grim stains in gallons.
Ember red blood is the only bold color that flows in streams
dyeing the soil and water with a stench of rotting death.
Once cultivated verdant fields are now burned into coal seams.
Marred by violence, houses crumble like ashes in hearth.
Such horrific images I see all around me as the hearth
of fierce war burns with glaring flames and crackling noises.
I fly, hover and fly with my singed wings as there is a dearth
of safe shelter; my exhausted body trembles with fear.
Would I be able to stop the war? I questioned myself with fear.
Quite a hard-hitting answer I received in the form of a bullet
that pierced my heart and I fell on the ground with tears.
From my smeared blood, poppies bloom around me as I die.
Date: 11/12/2017
Beyond the skills of escorts
and the appeal of other playthings,
smolders the need of the soul
infused to best every man.
Twelve years have taken
the scars out of the memories,
from the last time I was
up and through
just to come down and out
to find every fairy tale
extends it’s hand
to some tragedy.
The odds don’t warrant
the time of practical effort.
Too keen to the liabilities,
always calculating ends.
It is not the demands of over
or having to start something new
rather, better to remain alone
than to be let down again.
But now I see you,
and it makes me pause
so still, with the whisper --
Are you sure?
Falls into a deafening singularity
forbidding even a scream, it’s escape.
I sit and can only see
the touch of Heaven
reaching across the Caribbean
to color your face.
As your smile holds the songs
of every dawn’s temptress,
under the soft disposition
of your eyes
rests a divine spirit’s symmetry,
smoothing features
while lensing each strand
the perfect frame.
That once moved a favored King
to murder a man, only to bring
the sword into his own house.
Enabled an army to take
a strong city with just one horse.
And enslaved the envy of Venus
to sharpen leaden arrows,
but fury slipped her hands
and bled her wrists out.
Blood clotted on the cold muck
of her grave, a suffocating cocoon.
Immersed the viewer becomes,
and timeless the window
of the heart that is God’s craft,
denying the deceiver’s forgery
of any singed carnality.
As if proximity has been given
within the mist of your perfume,
in just this one picture
of your face.
Resurrections lone fallen spiritual being, kneeling within the darkness of mine
Own tormented soul, broken, fractured at fetters ivory appendages, a flightless
Angelic Dark winged angel standing alone, weeping in the nights blackened clouds of utter blindness, a disarmed shield maiden of heavens grace!
Seeking the lightning storms final thrust of thunders rapture, my burnt scorched
Feathers descend cascading downwards, as melting leaves captured in the
Autumn winds of betrayals flame of the sinful heart, left unsheathed!
Virtue’s innocence lies slain in the battlefield of mercy’s shamed, shattered
Is the core of faith’s fragile child, lost amongst the hailing hurricane,
Battered and bruised, the white dove soars beyond clarity’s grasp!
Biting tears clash against the bare exposed flesh, stinging with malice’s
Hatred, as the face of God shuns this black fleeced lamb, whom broke
The vows promise, and interfered in the world of man!
Banished daughter of the light, unable to capture the winds of flight,
Transcendences none descendant trapped by the loving spirit
Willing to help the mortal being, begging for mercy’s compliance!
Yet shadowed by the dark illusions of the hastening storm of
Ignorance, she shed forgiveness tears on behalf of the unworthy,
For in the night humanities brethren turn away from the hungry,
Homeless, and the lost children that huddle within the darkness!
Thin are the clouds separation, as the storms rage begins to abate
Gods anger grows to the point of understandings loving, the grates
Of heaven casts shafts of grace, weakened by the hailing wake,
The lamb is unable to move amongst the silences eye of the hurricane!
Ever gently is lowered the cradle, the rocking crib of the healing
Miracle set at the flash points ushering of forgiveness, for the Shepard
Has reclaimed that which was lost!
In chorus spiritual assembly a small figure sings with heights
Reverence’s praise, and the master of the divine smiles
Upon this child of light, for her voice shines above all others,
For she is the fallen, now arisen with the wings
Of the outcastes singed!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
The wings beat against the cage
in an urgent frenzy tormented never defeated
within this half twilight zone of slow crawling time held victim
The allure of consequences nevertheless feeding the flames
where conscious thought and lucid emotions die
slowly singed away remains at the bottom rung
The wisest transaction is the covenant never made and openly denied
decadence should never be answered once a pulls so strong
becomes injured with pride in alacrity's foretaste for knowledge
Where even the wind no longer breathes urgent
madness with passions trait as the grand tempest storms
steamily blows a cloud of smoke
A haunting being hunts darkness pushing boundaries
towards cold unadorned blue abandoned
holding the oceans spheres in restless silence
Restrained darkness meets light but never crosses over
the divide scratching at a spirit so forlorn
restraint comes naturally to the craggy and torn
Under the echoes of a lion's roar
A thousand tears can never mourn
the destruction and sad beauty that you have borne
Inside this isolation un-embellished
Under an austere atmosphere
holds the wings of time imprisoned factors
Destinies commander oh so damaged in this stunted wasteland of emotion's
conception becoming the unconsecrated norm in an un-heeding barrier
where realisations stammer unknowingly into the humiliating wit of despair
Which darkens the very soul blindfolded
The overture of the dove dances on as vigilant oracle of peace
the internal struggles of temperament challenges
Memorable moments within the spirit quest
fear and love wrapped up in a sorrowful wanting
yearning which hurts without choice
The pinnacles of reconciliation
and the fragile stirring of wings
wanting to fly is the verdict yet to come
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid