Best Spinal Column Poems
I have the rhythm of a winding road
how do I consign myself to being confined...
rows of poplar pillars prop
rendezvous canopies beneath we meet
—I self-cajole on ooh-la-la afternoon
yellow eyes; daffodils watching
lean into gossip groups nodding
a prodding breeze instigating deep-freeze—
I am a sweet weed in this place of sway and betray
with a stranger I stroll my arranged betrothed
height of his black top hat challenges trees
much like Corinthian columns
guards of an aisle I must walk —dear God! must walk
trepidation trips down my bridal spinal column
tiger eyes; lilies watching wish they were me
dare they dream they could uproot their roots like me
wish they could wedding waltz like I must —like I must
but their envy-leaves remain embrace-less
—I secretly envy lilies’ arms empty of yet unmet love
daffodils; empty-headed —laugh
they try to read my mind to fill their own
what do I care of their curdled thoughts lemon tart
and orange lilies’ with their brocade brimstone
what do I fear of fire-breathers burn of words
undergrowth feels the square heels of my lace-up boots
post impression grows more expressive than first—
beware French tongues of sundew and burdock burr
marriage-carriage rolls in ruts to Versailles
where my coerced corset of hooks and ties lie
rhythm of a winding road dies in minuet strangle-hold
dolphins
grey ghosts surf the waves
leaping up in laughing fun ~
gymnasts of the seas
4-12-22
Contest: Wil Animal Haiku
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Syllables checked: www.howmanysyllables
According to A-Z Animals List, Dolphins are mammals and therefore animals who give live birth, have a spinal column, nurse their young and are warm blooded.
Sometimes to no avail
You struggle to be different
Like snowflakes you fall
Believe you are vindicated, distinct and exclusive
With innovative design and crystallized mind
Attempting to impress everyone with the hand you have
only we all have the same cards
Razor sharp edges and frosty images
We are slush after a too many Sunday afternoon
Deteriorated with a warped spinal column and a stone-washed mentality
Liquefied by last season's snow boots and plowed to the side most of the time
Human quality is overstated and overrated
the world is far too over populated
we are all the uniform
snowflake
with carbon bonds, hydrogen and oxygen
I doubt my DNA complexity is what makes my soul mine
We are all hypocrites, benevolence is only to benefit ourselves
When you come out of the cloud your eyes are misted and your judgment’s
twisted
With age it doesn't get better only you assume you grasp what you require
But really you've been programmed and proselytized until you do not know what
you desire
We come out with different intentions and modifications but I’ll see you in the end
Still that damned snowflake condemned
Painting in my art studio is a relief to me
My breathing changes the minute I sit in my chair.
Facing a field of snow-covered woods, my body calms down
Tenseness I did not consider all day is released into the vapor.
Stress and anxiety ease out of my cement spinal column
The perpetual neck ache I had not noticed is instantly gone
Meditative state gently picks me up,
embraces and loves me I reach for a canvas and
begin my artistic heart dance.
Color begins throwing herself into my essence
Choose me!
Pick me!
I smile.
I do have my favorites.
The begging does not hurry me,
I am centered.
I take my time,
surrounded by a natural blissful calmness.
My adoring angels and fantastical faeries visit me here.
They know I am vulnerable, and at my most receptive.
All frenzy, stress, and pain has dissipated.
I am my me-self here, crazy happy, lapping up their inspiration,
Feeling loved.
Set up the hour glass to slowly time us
Put it on its side and make it endless
Shake it up to add some minutes
Break the hour glass on the floor
Hear it shatter against the door
Watch the time fly out the window
Hear the grandfather clock start chiming
Tell me when did it start winding
Break the hands so the time remains
Show me how to stay the same
Take the hands point the direction
Walk the path of broken glass
Pick up the ruined pieces of the past
Why couldn't our time just last
How could it be so hard to grasp
Hear the clock stop and let a gasp
Watch the room slowly go black
Hold my hand please show me how I can get back
Find a window to climb out
The door is blocked no one can hear us shout
Climb down the clock tower to the ground
Keep it steady we'll soon be found
If you fall I've got your back
I'll be the spinal column that you lack
Because I know you'd do the same
As time runs out we go insane
Once we make it from the tower hight
Keep our time forever and hold it tight
From base of spine to medulla
And then rising up to vibrant crown
Dipping down to glistening single eye
Over front enlivening throat and heart
Before grazing navel and sacral centres
The magnetic energy loop splits us vertically
As the higher aspect of self propels body form
Positioned along the spinal column, hence hidden
And so we thus literally witness in-form consciousness
Moment to moment, all moments in flow of time entwined
Our soul transmutation thus assimilated, known to us alone
As our bliss drenched presence breathes gently in equanimity
24-December-2022
Look here, Tiger.
Back off,
or your tennis
balls might get caught.
In my own talons,
of course.
Stronger now
this rubbery
slope.
And I slip inside
my spinal column
to avoid your
spitfires.
____________________________
More of my works at alexfalls.com
My spinal column was extremely painful.
As a believer in bodily regeneration
I had endured for long, hopeful
For a natural recuperation.
However, the condition kept getting worse.
Changing sides in bed waxed hard.
The back felt any sudden force
On the ribs if pushed outward.
It being then several weeks of this ordeal
I was forced to seek medical help.
I figured that if at all I would heal
The pain would nonetheless take weeks to dissolve!
I walked into the doctor's checking room.
I was asked to explain the problem.
Suspecting that my ailment might spell doom,
I explained, disability to stem!
I was ready for a prolonged treatment,
Willing to endure for as long as necessary,
In a way that would be congruent
With the virulence of my misery.
The doctor asked me to stand up facing back;
Then he stood with his back against mine.
He had us hook elbows and like a bag
He lifted me by bending forward his spine.
By bending like that with my back against his
He caused my back to gently stretch.
He stood me on the ground again and this
Short procedure ended my rough patch!
From that moment I was a fit man!
I can't recall if he prescribed a drug.
A pain free lease on life began!
I was so happy the doctor I could hug!
In the valley there is a boat
I gloat at this discovery
And look for the crests
That shook my spinal column
It is the curls of dreams there
Pearls of turquoise delight
For which aspires everyone
While swimming in English channel
Thanks to the bliss in the current
In pink yellow and orange
Van Gogh blooms in the valley
Natural flowers get envious
Embroidered waves rise and fall
Story of valley never ends
Heartbeats on the mountain tops
Skip a beat of yours and mine
September 24, 2017.
Contest : Form V - Verse Me a Poem.
Sponsor : Broken Wings.
deadly college campus at night
only thing moving are leaves
pick up pace, skirt brushing my legs
feeling highly vulnerable
drop a Kleenex but keep walking
of course hypervigilant now
have they caught the rapist yet?
why on earth did I wear a short skirt?
kind of night you expect to be murdered
ebony shadows make my spinal column shiver
heard a footstep, dared not look behind me
sure I will momentarily be killed
I take a sip of pinkish liquid – White Zin.
Will I be able to drive home now?
The goblet seems much more fun than it should be.
I am horrified by her fullness. It shocks me. Too much liquor!
My brain screams at the young waiter, who is probably new,
Does he think he is helping out an old lady without friends?
Without a home? A crone who lives under a bridge on a storm grate?
The bar and grille’s loud music no longer bothers me.
One sip of White Zin wiped out my irritation station.
Spiders who live in my spinal column scurry away for
An evening of “who cares?” We are unconcerned.
My back cord is relaxing into a pudding pop of herself.
For the first second I realize the music is Country Western
and I am not cringing. I reach for the glass goblet. The
White Zin sloshes into my mouth, with a happy war cry.
I know my mouth is now in her “ugly-fat-protruding mode”
I do not often take this mouth out in public,
But the white zin has convinced me I do not care.
I do not know these people, nor do I want to know them.
A gaggle of gabbing women two tables down are laughing now.
Someone has recently left this earth-plane. They are
celebrating tonight to honor her memory. By the time
my friend arrives, I have used up all three of the dinky
napkins, writing words willy, nilly and yon.
None make sense.
Care I?
No.
We have a lovely time, out-cackling and out-laughing
the grieving table, my friend and I. She has a liquor drink
too so she is insanely silly.
Some old geezer wanders over and says he is sitting down.
We hold firm and he falls off the seat onto the floor.
Oops. Maybe I was the one who held firm.
We promptly leave. Hug goodbye. No kissing.
I let her pull out first. She can barely see. She has
hit lots of cars. I wait for a bit.
White Zin and I are not the friends we once were.
I throw up promptly when I arrive home.
Second or third reminder to me that I should not drink alcohol.
Gentle throbbing in our spinal column
Caress sublime by Divine Mother
Energy transfer, steady hum
Empowered by Father
Root to crown, dipping down to third eye
Our pranic conduit is magnetised
Into the void we wingless fly
God within is realised
20-December-2022
Fantastical monsters. Real or imagined? No difference.
Gangster style, their grim gargoyle faces head straight toward me.
Served with a bit of terror, they surround me.
Devils? Demons? Anti-Christs? Does it matter?
Wicked and evil, they crawl up my body.
I feel them on my back, ripping into my spinal column.
She screams, but no one cares.
The hairs on the back of my neck are saluting,
Waiting for them.
Preconceived notions be damned.
Life as I knew it is over.
They are slicing away at my hardware.
My software is shrieking in abject fear.
They do not stop.
Sinister?
Are furies from the bowels of hell sinister?
They begin to devour my gray matter.
My heart howls like a wolf.
One of them scalps me.
Rips off the top of my skull.
Which one?
How the hell do I know?
Does it flipping matter?
Where did go the amber gold ring
That my gaze met on that evening
Magnificent purple centre
From where in bliss dream moon blooming
Ah if I had now got it back
From the elusive gray time rack
For rush in my spinal column
Once more I could ride on horseback
As I look now from balcony
All leaves turning gray on oak tree
I seek to hold it in my palm
Laughs at me a curt vacuum
The ocean has stolen the ring
A bird took it within its wing
To pink memory I still cling
Until ceases my ringless swing
October1, 2017
Wisdom implant, influx direct
There is no room for doubt
Essence of presence stands erect
Prayerful and devout
Spinal column vibrates
Each node within gyrates
Tingling never abates
As of soul’s want
Wisdom implant
30-October-2021
Quietus
(HMS for syllable count)