Best Skeletal Frame Poems
My body’s friend, the Chiropractor
gives me exactly what I’m after.
A reduction of serious pain
in my skeletal frame is my aim.
To be enabled to be able
keeps me mentally stable.
For years in my pain, Doctors said “no don’t go,
those Chiropractors are your foe!”
So doctors fed me pain pills and charged me too much,
talked of expensive therapy, operations and such.
Possible fusing could be motion losing.
The therapy never did the trick,
And the pills just made me sick.
So I tried to be believing and nice,
but went against the Doc’s advice
because I could barely walk
and had to work,
my body in shock.
Saw that Chiropractor, took his advice
and at a very reasonable price.
That was my first whose name was Dr B.
He helped me immensely.
The pain left quickly.
I was no longer sickly.
My current Chiropractor uses an activator,
He’s a dedicated rejuvenator.
A friend recommended him twelve years ago,
For needed maintenance, I still go.
So many times to my elation,
he’s saved me an operation,
because of the sensible characteristic,
That his Chiropractics are holistic.
Doctors have their place and if it needs be so,
My chiropractor will tell me to go.
So Doctors, curb your pride and make the confession,
CHIROPRACTICS is a Most Noble Profession !
copyright : Written by Robert A. Dufresne 7/23/11
( A heart felt thanks to my Chiropractors, Dr B. in Vt.
and Dr. R. S. here in Florida. God bless you both. )
Categories:
skeletal frame, healthme, pain, me,
Form:
Couplet
While looking far beyond misty gale
until convulsion of night quavers--
just remember, in spite drizzles
new morning salves torment:
I watch those gentle eyes roam
against a skeletal frame--
yet, lightness around you glows
more precious than dawn.
Cherishing you this way
soothes the vicious gush of hours;
and that raindrop upon a sallow face
trickles down onto a furrowed neck,
defying the tumor of pain its mortal ovation…
Although brave those eyes are, white cells
invade an exhausted gait like thinning hail.
I watch you smile heroicly at night’s downpour, Mama--
You are beautiful fragile as the raindrop.
11/20/2018
For Craig Cornish’s The Raindrop Contest
Categories:
skeletal frame, courage, sick,
Form:
Free verse
It is the craving never satisfied, the malformation
Of gluttonous starvation, the disfigured beast of emaciation.
Hell's spiritually depraved wind walker, feasting on the
Lingering slowing pulse of the flat liners final vibrations.
Engorging itself on the fiendish terror, unleashed by this
The devil’s own kindred son!
Dare not look into his hollowed out eyes, turn away from
This misshapen abomination, with its tautly pulled
Flesh, stretching thinly over its boney skeletal frame, it so
Lurks in the night shadows, waiting for a moment of
Unconscious weakness!
For it senses your revulsion, yet it excites and stimulates
Its inner bloods thirst, and desire to feed, awaken from this
Realistic nightmare, quicken your pace, hasten your steps,
Run mortal fool, run!
But there is no safe place to hide, once you bare his
Mark as prey, the predator by midnight follows the
Unrighteous footprints, this blackened satanic beast!
Beware the wrath of the Wendigo, for it has no soul.
This demonic sadist, hiding within the arms of darkness.
Behold this Insatiable cannibalistic hunter,
Taboo’s flesh crawler, stalking on the edge of reality,
Thriving on the hatred, and malice of your civilized society.
This demonic boogie man, whom dances on the grave
Stones of the innocent backwards, wearing a mask
Of lies and deceit, spitting forth a foul odorous
Stench, repelling the living, attracting the undead!
Beneath the chilling air, a creature so slithers, undetectable
Turning into vaporous mist, sniffing at the shifting winds,
Seeking, testing its keen awareness against the night breeze.
Kneeling in the holy church, the sinner begs for redemptions
Shield, to protect him against this foul monster of evil,
But it is too late, for the devil owns this fallen soul,
And the wendigo, is here to collect on his dark fathers
Unconsecrated debit.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
skeletal frame, culture, halloween, holiday, horror,
Form:
Free verse
Oh what have you done to me,
A city built in the name of Christ.
When an earthquake struck,
Destroying all my pretty clothing
And shaking the flesh off all my bones.
Leaving only my skeletal frame ,
Half submerged in sewerage raw
And liquefaction adding to my woes,
Threatening to make me completely disappear.
No one with water to spare as I began to choke
On air now so foul.
When you felt safe to come out and see my plight,
You drew lots for my last vestments of dignity,
Before inviting others in to help you pick over my bones.
You even looked the other way when the Vultures started gathering.
You filled my streets with low life's and vermin knee deep.
And patched my broken bones with cheap plaster.
Watching as those who yet stood by me grew weak,
Bled dry by insurance companies and their red tape, con artists,
And Cowboys posing as builders,
Supplied by rip-off merchants of every description,
All overseen by government official with no idea what to do,
Except find ways to spend their money unwisely.
You raised $50 million dollars to build a playground
For children without proper homes and not enough food to eat.
Another ten or so million was found to build a marble wall
In memory of of those who fell beside me as the earthquake struck.
Do you think that will give them eternal rest.
No future do I see worth having here,
Can you not just let me sleep,
So Christ can rebuild his beloved garden city,
Away from this foul swamp,
Filled with indifference and despair,
That the rest of the country has left to rot.
Categories:
skeletal frame, abuse, betrayal, bullying, business,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Skeletal frame this autumn rose has lain,
through bitter chill that wore her glory down
for only whittled veins of time remain,
of what was night's luster and wondrous crown.
Laying on breast of final days, a brown
skin crumpled from moon's sheen to air's foam,
to rest in a cavern of whitened tomb.
Oh, her fragile petals hovered mid-air
releasing the hint of dark-tinted chrome
and extinguish the grandeur that was there.
Contest: Sad Poem- Dizain for Laura Loo
5/18/2016
Categories:
skeletal frame, loss, rose, sorrow,
Form:
Dizain
.
Boulder shoulders, bursting biceps,
terrifying to see.
A menacing mountain of a man,
well, he used to be.
He would brutally barrel through each
frightened, fleeing foe.
Many feared him so, although that
was long, long ago.
Now, from beneath the bony, bushy
brows of his frayed face,
He casts a ghostly gaze at his veins,
I.V. needles in place.
His shrunken, skeletal frame sinks
stolid in the stretcher.
His skin, the tinge and touch of the
back of a peeled wallpaper.
Here he must wait and wilt away
the weeks till the end arrives.
Behind this nursing home's closed doors
hide closing and closed lives!
Categories:
skeletal frame, life
Form:
Tail-rhyme
written a long time ago
Aghast
Sans shutting the dresser fast
Lest drawing to cloths to the past.
Akin to dredging up sedimentary muck
That metaphors me whence getting stuck
During adolescence – which lasted decades
each 'n to barreling driverless
heading toward
a garbage disposal dump peed truck
when me entire being felt utter yuck
Holograms of former life inhabit
childhood each dresser drawer
Which furniture about five feet from top to floor
Encapsulates invisible fractals
of me and contrived lore
Iron nick lee, the latter increases
as sands of time increase more
Find mine gaze drawn to hash marks
(from Matthews’) fingers did score
Within the veneer epitomizing strife that tore
And rent psyche asunder
exemplifying unseen civil war
That raged within façade of placidity
Hosting mailer daemons in this yahoo –
nobody could see
Re:
Clawing to cleave copper handles of me
Synonymous with malevolent genie
Hell bent of wreaking havoc
and thus clamored to break free
From shuttered jumbled wardrobe
stale garments some mold e
bereft of taking a tumble
in washer and dryer to air
Perspiration from boyhood pores,
with a skinny body when bare
As would be immediately clear
By many I did fear
Whose gaze akin to a scorching glare
Exhuming a suffer 'n soul silent leer,
especially when viewer near
Gaze glued at tchotchkes
like skeletal frame, with palm sized rear
Analogous to that boudoir – over there
Where housed baggy garments,
yes even under wear
Ill fitting hardly worn hand me downs
a haunting clasp from yesteryear!
Categories:
skeletal frame, absence, age, boy, childhood,
Form:
Elegy
A MODEL PERSPECTIVE OF THE PERVERSION OF LIFE
(Apropos Models on Parade)
Mocking humanity and the children of death—
Hunger and starvation—
Her frail skeletal frame of a body
Wrapped in cloths of richness of life,
Strode and glided across the flushed runway.
As she faded away like smoke of a dying fire,
Thunderous applauds echoed throughout.
Across the parched desert-like clods, bloated bellies
Wearily trek alone the barren trail that seems to lead nowhere;
Overhead, winged angels of death glide to and fro—patiently.
Dry winds echo over the exodus of the walking dead.
Strange how the rich pervert starvation and parade themselves
To a distorted mocking beauty of lush living;
While bloated bellies are fatal victims of starvation’s perversity:
Shamelessly paraded as “Breaking News!”
Categories:
skeletal frame, africa, allegory, america, analogy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
From tottering infantile footsteps
Gangly adolescence and vibrant youth
Desire to taste forbidden fruits
Hobnob with society discards
Ever beckoned by distant drums
Weird people practising witchcraft
Entranced by strange rituals
Rebelling against established norms
Corrupted by wild flights of fantasy
Urge to attain impossible dreams
Sermonizing on unknown subjects
Engaged in creating hell on earth
Shunning filial ties
Ignorant of the anguish of loved ones
Reviled by all but the ignorant
And pitied by a few
Unwashed, malodorous, skeletal frame
Vacant eyes a fiery red
Registering no events, recognizing none
A pitiable mannequin in a dynamic world
Ever shrouded in a haze of acrid smoke
From endless cannabis trips
Unhinged from his roots
With no conclusion or hope
Categories:
skeletal frame, loss, sad,
Form:
Subconsciously I'm alive in this skeletal frame
Why I am here belongs to this living worlds fame
I was but a child, when it all happened years ago
At the place called the Ness, that stemmed my younger grow
Please look through my eyes and picture what I see
Live with me the feeling of what life is supposed to be
How fast can you run if you have a sibling chasing thee
Do you give into him, and be the weakling so dad can see
Being the faster allows the luxury, to look back and view
To be the one who's ahead as he turns his head askew
For he can no longer indulge, in front is where he's to be
To allow his younger brother to play catch up, oh we'll see
This moment is about to haunt me, it's scary for I shall know
No boo! can ever rival, that will stem our younger grow
As I sail the clouds of gone and retire to where I now live
I happen to come across another sibling who may be sieved
Looking down from the heavens as I trawl the unfortunate
Like a Praying Mantis in hope as we ready to deliver wait
Just at the moment of strike, I lure his head to see
My brothers son called Liam, is he who stares back at me
Categories:
skeletal frame, family, life, loss
Form:
Couplet
.
Boulder shoulders, bursting biceps,
terrifying to see,
A menacing mountain of a man, well,
he used to be.
He would brutally barrel through each
frightened, fleeing foe.
Many still fear him so, although that
was long, long ago.
Now, from beneath the bony, bushy
brows of his frayed face,
He casts a ghostly gaze at his veins,
I.V. needles in place.
His shrunken, skeletal frame sinks
stolid in the stretcher.
His skin, the tinge and touch of the back
of a peeled wallpaper.
Here he must wait and wilt away the weeks
till the end arrives.
Behind this nursing home's closed doors hide
closing and closed lives.
.
Categories:
skeletal frame, sympathy
Form:
Tail-rhyme
flood waters rise they get higher and higher...i'm stricken with fear and fast going under
twisting and turning,insane and i'm ill
i cry out to God and He speaks what's real...
PEACE BE STILL
i watch the devil gettin dropped
i watch his demons gettin drilled
running in fire...flame's gettin hotter
i'm blinded by smoke and choking on sin
third degree burns take me to a dark land
my flesh starts to melt and i think my fate's sealed
i cry out God and He speaks what's real...
PEACE BE STILL
i watch the devil gettin dropped
i watch his demons gettin drilled
feasts turn to famines... once strong...now a scarecrow
i wither to nothing...like a leaf the wind blows
hungry and haunted and needing my fill
my skeletal frame needs a potient or pill
He brings manna from heaven and saves me from hell...
i cry out to God and He speaks what's real...
PEACE BE STILL
i watch the devil gettin dropped
i watch his demons gettin drilled
anthony_beesley@yahoo.com
Categories:
skeletal frame, faithgod, cry, god, me,
Form:
Rhyme
" Senses Consensus ... "
Five Fingers and Five Toes
Two Eyes and One Nose
Two Ears and One Mouth
Senses - Figure Life Out
One Backbone, One Brain
Lots of Nerve and Veins
Guts and Glory, Fraction-Rib-Cage
Sum: Muscle and Skeletal-Frame
Take An Embryo-Egg
Carry Two Lungs, Two Arms, 2 Legs
Math of: Mind Over Matter and Heart
Add Up: Other Body Parts ...
Together - Total Amount
Don't Divide - Whole-Soul & Skin Count
Subtract: The Waste & Anatomy Doubt
Spirit Equals: What Ledger's About
Five Fingers and Five Toes
Two Eyes and One Nose
Two Ears and One Mouth
... Should Figure Life Out
Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/8/2014
by: MoonBee Canady
Categories:
skeletal frame, deep, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
All I can do is sit and stare.
All I can hear is the clanking of silverware and people chewing...
people enjoying.
My teeth grind back and forth...my jaw begins to hurt although I've been given
nothing.
My tongue wrestles with the tasteless air,
and I pretend it's something.
My hands are permanently glued to the table,
with my fingernails stuck deeply in its wood.
My face looks emaciated
with my cheeks sunken into its skeletal frame.
I even FEEL worse than I look.
I guess I can't hide it afterall.
I sit here and stare...at all of you.
Wondering how I got pushed so far away from the table.
It looks so good...what you are devouring.
You tell me it is
which makes me want it even more.
Oh, but I've had a taste before,
it just turned so sour that I can't seem to taste anymore.
So, I just sit here and wonder when it'll be my turn.
My turn to lick my plate and taste the fulfillment that all of you do.
But until then, I guess I'll stay here with a napkin in my lap, silverware in my
hands...
and an empty plate.
My eyes will just continue to stalk yours-
those plates heaping full of love-
the serving I just can't seem to ever receive.
Categories:
skeletal frame, confusion, depression, love, sad,
Form:
Free verse
i am...
without mercy!
my thirst is
unquenchable.
i'm a predatory organism
inhabiting
and feeding
off your flesh;
latching on
like a leech,
slurping your blood
like Count Dracula
then licking my lips
with delightful glee
your blood is
my nourishment, you see.
i suck you
bone dry
steadily;
draining life
out of you
as I'm cackling
at your skeletal frame.
you are...
my host.
Date written: 01/22/2021
Categories:
skeletal frame, dark, evil, poetry,
Form:
Personification