Best Snarled Poems
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate was a very evil man,
He used to eat his dinner from a filthy frying pan,
And when he’s finished eating he’d play “catch me if you can”
With his desperado first-mate known as Dirty Deadeye Dan.
Now Dan was quite a ladies man, but also fond of booze,
In bars and streets and hotels he liked to drink and cruise,
He used to taunt old-Peg Leg Pete by dragging up old news,
Like Pete had only ever needed half a pair of shoes.
One day Pete had quite enough and things got pretty scary,
Confronting Dirty Deadeye Dan whose mood was always lairy,
A sudden hush fell on the room when Pete clumped in the bar
And Dan called out: “Hey, Peg-Leg, hop on over, have a jar.”
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate clasped the pistol on his hip
And snarled at Dirty Deadeye Dan: “Enough of your damn lip.”
The floozy sat upon Dan’s lap was dumped onto the floor
And Dan rose to his feet and hissed: “You’d best limp out the door.”
Across the sawdust, blood-stained floor they faced each other down,
And you could hear a pin drop from the other side of town,
Eyes were locked and fingers twitched and seconds seemed like days
The tension burned unbearably and shimmered in the haze.
Both men drew their pistols and both men fired fast,
Flame spat from the barrels with the bullets roaring past,
But neither man could aim for squat and when their guns were done
They’d killed two people in the bar but they weren’t either one.
The barman Blind-man Billy Bragg and the floozy Scar-Faced Sue
Lay dead as dead as doornails, as doornails tend to do,
And through the pall of gun-smoke and the mist of rum and beer
Deadeye Dan called out to Pete: “We’d best get out of here.”
And so they did, they fled the bar, and vanished in the night,
Back to their ship, The Crippled Cock, and sailed on out of sight,
Never to return to shore, and never seen again,
The rumour is they sank and drowned just off the Spanish Main.
The moral of the story is that when you draw a gun,
Be prepared to end your days always on the run,
“Or in your case, always on the limp,” said Dirty Deadeye Dan
To Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate, that very evil man.
Categories:
snarled, funny, evil, men,
Form:
Verse
Outside of civil man’s well tended garden,
A field of briars willfully encroached,
Threatening the peaceful flowers without pardon.
Oh these gardeners fought hard as the briars approached.
“You don’t belong here, you’re not good enough!”
“You are snarled with iniquity and with thorns.”
“You live a life so very harsh and rough…”
“What good can you bring?” they said with deep seated scorn.
And the briar replied that hot summer day,
“Deep within these unforgiving boughs
Lives a flower who doesn’t have much to say
Except a story concerning what you espouse.”
“You see there lives a dragon scorned just over the way,
Who tossed opportunity and harbingers to the wind,
Because life is glorious and he loves to play…
Carefree and cavalier is how his days were spent.”
“He playfully trampled gardens carefully tended,
By pious gardeners without wings who would never fly,
Until he happened upon a flower wonderfully scented,
Crimson in color, the flower reflected beauty in his eye,”
“Eagerly he reached forward to make it his own,
But this glorious flower was protected by thorns,
And gave the dragon a prick to change his tone,
And it was in that prick that true love was born.”
“Now the dragon is older and has spent his days,
Watching over this rose, the love of his life,
Learning about beauty and awe inspiring ways.
His world now protected by thorn and briar.”
“He has discovered great beauty and learned much,
And no longer does the dragon destroy with fire.”
“But should you gardeners even dare to touch
A single branch or bough in this tangled briar…”
“You will face both the Dragon and the Rose,
Who with great love now protect each other,
From pious gardeners who would have them go,
Because neither can be kept on a tether.”
“So snip your lilies and pluck your weeds,
Make your lives as perfect as they can be,
For in this harsh briar we continue to watch love grow,
That of a magnificent Dragon and the beautiful Rose.”
Categories:
snarled, love, passion, beauty, flower,
Form:
Ballad
We quarreled, argued, fought but she was unfair,
"Write me a poem then Shakespeare", she taunted.
Then threw pen and paper on the table as a challenge.
"C'mon Lover", she snarled trying to hurt me, "get busy."
I picked up the pen and tried to think of something to write.
I glanced at her and saw her victory already shining in her eyes.
"Try that thing you're always counting syllables over. Seventeen only.
You should have that crap down and ready by now."
No haiku would flow from my pen no matter how hard I pressed.
Realising for the first time that no one ever wins a quarrel, I paused.
I wrote for a moment, not needing verse or count or rhyme.
My poem for her was brief and cruel and compassionate and true.
I folded the paper and handed it to her. "You win", I said walking away.
On the paper I had written; I love you.
Categories:
snarled, passion
Form:
Narrative
Screen of Awareness
Look up!
From tedium uncertainty -
Focus on an impartial pure lens -
Blank screen of nothing shows pulses of the soul,-
Flashing test patterns of unbiased ambivalence
And the veracity of a changing diorama.
Pause
Before the imagery in reflections
Of history’s emotionless mistress
Moments hidden
Held captive in blinking time windows -
Independent sentinel of a detached empirical.
Open
To the neutral sentience
Of a silent silvered screen
Devoid of snarled motion pictures,
Curved dolby lacking judgements,
Conscious docudrama premiered on perpetual loops!
Witness honesty
Shadowing boxing with equivocal revelation
Heartbeats captured in subjectivity’s vertigo
See screen tests of impartiality,
In amber awareness like clanging signals
For a slow train of approaching objectivity.
5-20-23
Contest: Screen of Awareness
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Categories:
snarled, angst, life, perspective, truth,
Form:
Free verse
I walked upon an empty step,
Where a shadowed body was kept.
The shadow was beat,
Turning as cold as winter sleet.
It had bright blue eyes,
That extended all through the skies.
The shadow was nine,
Living to be blind.
I walked to the figure,
As it would evilly linger.
People would laugh at it,
As it snarled and bit.
The shadow diagnosed with
schizophrenia,
Beating itself, the others, as if a
mania.
No one could reach out,
No one gave it water, as it was in a
drought.
I was determined to bring its colors,
Be the one to treat it like no other.
The shadow hated me,
Told me Hell is where I should be.
Not giving in,
Not creating one other sin.
I drew it pictures, wrote it letters,
Tried to blossom its feathers.
Then the day came,
When there had to be an end to the
game.
Not wanting to leave,
Not wanting the devil to its thieve.
As I was bout to walk through the
door,
The shadow came upon me, on the
open floor.
Held out his arms,
As I smiled and lowered his alarms.
The shadow had a name,
Brought about with little shame.
The shadow was a boy,
Played with by the devil as if a toy.
I played with fire,
Burning loosely like a run away tire.
But he finally knew I was there,
Someone who was willing to care.
Categories:
snarled, caregiving, childhood, dedication, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
I sat beneath a Veteran-oak,
In awe of His strength—
Here was a solid spirit!
Sympathy you get from Willow,
But stiff upper-lip from old soldiers,
With forged bark —
His limbs flexed, cut, rippled against the wind…
No chinks in this warrior-wood…
“Divide and Conquer!”
Then I thought of my Father—
A cook at the end of the war—The Big One!
You know the One I mean, as if there are small ones—
When the commanders were through eating
He was instructed to toss the leftovers
From the belch of plates—
Trashcans were in the alley,
The steel that seems intrinsic to battles
In one form or another—
The hungry German children
Would sneak pass the guards
And line-up;
My father would sneak pass his superiors
And his honor
To dispense carefully wrapped scraps…
Well, soon the line was out into the street
As my father was compelled to seek food
From wherever he could steal, beg or barter
To procure—This brought attention—the cat-out-of-the-bag,
And all hell down on my father,
As the captain screamed: Gus, these are the enemy (the children in the alley),
What in God’s Name are you doing?
He was forced to stop—no Court Marshal though…
I looked up again at the old oak,
Through the snarled branches
Deep into the staunch soldier,
Where I spied a nest
In a small, compact fork—
Having a canopy of extra leaves
For shade and shelter from the wind—
I smiled—hum…
His bark reddened, but like my father, no apology from this weathered soldier…
Categories:
snarled, allegory, allusion, father, history,
Form:
Free verse
Old Mr. Oak
Old Mr. Oak had bumps on his sides.
In his tired arms, black birds did reside.
He had seen all kinds come and go,
watching the young become old and slow.
The largest and king of mighty trees,
for 100 years, he’d danced in the breeze.
Children had used him to play at their games,
and he laughed at snowstorms, ice and rains.
Seasons came and time passed by.
Many have stood under his watchful eye.
Lovers carved their initials in a heart.
Smiling, he knew he'd always be a part.
Old Mr. Oak’s bones creaked when he swayed.
Sometimes an arm or two would give way.
One day the owner built a pool in his yard.
Earth movers’ trauma hit Mr. Oak hard.
In autumn his leaves turned but didn’t fall.
They hung there brown for an expert to call.
He said he was dying from shock and such.
The shifting of his roots had been too much.
Old Mr. Oak had to face his life’s end.
To the last ounce of living this tree would defend.
His limbs hit the ground and jarred Mother earth.
Saws snarled as they grappled with his thick girth.
He closed his eyes on the green garden world,
and sighed as his life began to unfurl.
That glowing fire of a room so warm,
comes from old Mr. Oak, all the years long.
1/6/16
Categories:
snarled, age, tree,
Form:
Personification
Divorce
Let me start by giving you a small anecdote
About a husband and wife at the divorce court
Ranting and Raving till the judge ponders why
Screaming “I hate you “, An obvious lie.
The wife began yelling, I’m so glad that I left
The husband then sneered “Oh I’m terribly bereft”
The counsellor knew this wasn’t a different case
Just two people trapped in love’s crazy rat race
The love there was evident though cleverly disguised
Refusing to see things through the other one’s eyes
“His temperament is terrible and he’s really unkind”
He snarled at judge, “She’s out of her mind
Before I proceed to grant your decree
You have to be more specific with me
Was each moment unbearable these seven years?
The husband shook his head and the wife was in tears
Was your journey together horrible from the start,
Arranged Marriage perhaps, not matters of the heart?
They sheepishly mumbled “It was our very own plan”
Back then she said, “I loved this man”
The counsellor sighed, “ then I must request you
To give it six months before you are through”
You have to live together before you part ways
I’m really not sure we’d survive six days!
Well coexist you must and peacefully too,
Though the task ahead seems arduous for you.
“For an hour each day, put your phones aside”
“No TV for him too”, the wife cheerfully cried
You may sit in silence or do a household task
But It must be done together, is that too much to ask?
Separation is assured when you return to this place
I will ask for nothing more before I settle your case
They went away pensive about the situation at hand
Live together they must at the judge’s command
At the end of six months they walked back to court
Well you‘ve certainly come back on a different note.
Our disagreements back then seemed larger than life
The counsellor laughed, what’s a marriage without strife?
The judge then wondered where he would be now
If he’d tried in his own life to stay wedded somehow
Every day he regretted his decision to separate
It’s a sad revelation when you realise “It’s too late.
Categories:
snarled, change, feelings, introspection, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
IV.
I believed I was done with the vampire ways
and gave thanks for all that had transpired,
but before three months passed, from just outside
I heard the vicious insults of my sire.
Cannot say what pushed me to go out there,
all my brothers urged me to remain,
just given back life by a miracle,
to face such a creature seemed insane.
But on I went to that familiar form
who sniffed curiously at the air.
He snarled,”How is it you smell like a man?”
I said,”His power lifted me from despair.”
My sire laughed,”Do you expect me
to believe you prayed yourself back to life?”
“It wasn’t my prayers, it was His grace
that saved me from this unholy blight.”
Then he roared loud, teeth flashing horribly,
cried,”Your god has just wasted his time!
I will not let him take you from me,
Your life and your soul are both mine!”
He leapt forwards, and I did not move
as his fangs sank deep and he started to drink,
in two dozen seconds he leapt away,
and back from my presence he did shrink.
He screeched in pain and shouted wildly:
“What’s in your blood! I can feel it burn!”
As his body slowly started to decay
I said,”It’s nothing that you haven’t earned.
“You know vampires have no blood of their own,
and must feed on others to survive.
I had none so the Lord lent me His,
it’s something holy that now flows inside.”
My sire fell back, and his body dissolved
to the corpse it long ago should have been,
the vampires he sired, they all died too,
except for me since I was now human.
A final weighed seemed to lift off my back,
and I turned without another word,
walked back to the brothers, glad that I had
three or four decades before me to serve.
Categories:
snarled, change, dark, evil, faith,
Form:
Epic
Tender
emerald realm ...
lungs of the earth
to span a continent, wide -
jade labyrinth of wonder and mystery.
Like a serpent, its watery namesake winds and slithers,
the strength of its back, untested,
colors and creatures of limitless kind and contingency,
peoples yet untouched by civilization,
and drowned in an ocean of foliage ...
its bounding abyss barely plumbed,
extraordinary species, as uncounted as counted,
and a tangle so snarled ...
that it hisses only at the grand Atlantic,
its mighty meandering coaxed to current and tide.
Beast of brute and beauty,
begotten of the Andes and the heavens, high -
a world begs your precious breath
and bold, boundless breadth ...
dangerous and delicate,
wondrous and wild,
untamed ...
tender.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Wild Country" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Judge & Sponsor.
~ Honorable Mention ~ in the "Strand Pick A, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
snarled, animal, appreciation, metaphor, nature,
Form:
Free verse
When I had just turned nineteen,
I then caught the travel bug.
The urge to travel the world,
was similar to any drug.
But I lived in a country town;
quite green and very naive,
and the world is a big place
that was hard for me to perceive.
First stop was merry old England,
and tap into warm English beer,
when visiting small country pubs -
I could do this as a career.
It was in the village Woolston,
imbibing on a local brew.
And after drinking two pints,
I near made a fatal blue.
At least I have recovered.
I no longer eat with a straw,
but it was a lesson I learned,
and one I will never ignore.
Two ladies entered the pub,
who’d really let themselves go.
Weight-watchers is needed by them,
but I’m not letting them know.
They sat at a table close by.
I'll declare the converse I heard,
was English spoken as such,
I could not understand a word.
Then a sheer misunderstanding,
from a question I posed to them;
‘are you two Ladies from Ireland?’
that started all of the mayhem.
One snarled at me ‘Wales dumbo!’
And from that was my big mistake.
‘Are you two whales from Ireland?’
From then I’m no longer awake.
Categories:
snarled, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
I pissed my dog off today
He wouldn't listen to what I had to say
He didn't have to be such a grouch
I just wanted him off my couch
Why is he so mad, I didn't even holler
I just pulled on his collar
He was being such a jerk and wanted to fight
Snarled and growled and gave me a bite
We had one hell of a brawl
Across the floor and half way up the wall
I don't think I can take it anymore
He's on my couch while I'm sleeping on the floor!
Categories:
snarled, animal, fear,
Form:
Rhyme
You know not about fear
when in the spotlight of
your rage
snarled in distorted
ugly
your hatred
twisting
my unguarded spine
stunting small bones
blustering
bluffing
concealing weakness
too plain to miss
as
you pound down
walls
and
hammer
ineffectively on
my resolve
to
leave you
to
your
own
creation
Categories:
snarled, angst,
Form:
Free verse
Written: September 07, 2023
______________________________________________________________
I can't sleep at night, so I stay alive.
I am awake, and I search and strive.
I'm no warrior, just a bumbling scrambler.
Restless nights render me a rambler.
I crave a paladin, a light to guide my way.
Yet, gloom reigns, and all hope wanes away.
Into a cloud of tedium and torpor of a tongue.
I long for silence, for optimism to be wrung.
Capsized in an abyss of frustration,
For solace, a catalyst in this desolation.
My gloom clings to such a symbiote spawn.
Snarled metastatic root quotum-dot drawn.
Hush, my tired soul, and let illusions fade.
In this darkness, all that is a masquerade.
Seek not the light, for it is only a gleam.
Rather, apply the recess to deem it a dream.
In the gloom, where shadows dance and play.
It is a quiet oasis where anxiety withers away.
I need faith, resilience, and perseverance.
To explore this squalid earth sans inherence.
Categories:
snarled, allusion, anger, bereavement,
Form:
Rhyme
Drifting darkly, memories swirling upward
snarled in spiders' frightfully webs spun, hoping
peace comes soon with fierceness. Her anti-venom
saves me from bug bites.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By: Nancy Jones
Sapphic Stanza Contest
9/17/13
Categories:
snarled, night,
Form:
Sapphic stanza