Best Spindly Poems
Italian restaurant; pasta and wine - red, like the eyes of a bat,
Screeching from a cave, dark as the eyes of a snowman,
Coal plucked from a bucket, the mop was deposed -
By the broom, new sovereign of all instruments
Resound with the trumpet on Everest’s peak
High as a clown doused with vodka,
Watery eyes drip deep to the void.
Abyss without meaning that threatens to consume all life -
In an Italian restaurant.
Makeup: lonely face and painted smile
Dark hole: crying into nothing
Hell exists after all. It claws towards me,
Dragging me down and holding me tight.
Then I am lifted, eyes flashing.
It is my turn at the abyss….
Another stares down to me as I reach up with spindly hands.
Seaweed turtle abyss
Smoke, Poodles! Mystic Weed.
Touching on my friends tweed.
Baloomp he goes as his red nose falls off.
Falling to the ground forever like a knife at my throat.
Help me the glassy shine remains, slicing through the endless vacuum of time.
Below may be aliens, enemies, frenemies, or even God? But all I know is the megladown stops me from reaching thee in the black hole below and above- an abyss of loss an abyss of soul an abyss of time has made me its fool. Baloomp he says to me. Awakened I see nothing. Nothing. Nothing and me.
28 February 2020
Written for "Clown at the Abyss" contest, sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Categories:
spindly, allegory, conflict, confusion, corruption,
Form:
Free verse
A BUSH FIRE
One scorching afternoon,
A sudden splintering sound was heard,
The nearest was the buffalo herd,
They smelt the smoke and felt the heat,
And began to charge, they had to beat,
The, scorching red hot fire.
The monkeys who swing and never tire,
Screeched loudly in tongues,
Whilst smoke, stole oxygen out of their lungs.
A mighty midget the porcupine,
Warned chancers that his quills so fine,
Would incur great pain
Not only a red blood stain,
For he dreaded to be turned belly up,
And had no intention, of being anyone’s sup!
The birds began to fly very high,
Away from the smoke, in the sky.
The unfortunate tortoise lost his way,
And sadly, with his life, had to pay.
The giraffe with tall spindly legs
Ran wildly destroying nests and eggs,
His wildness came from his wrath,
And, the chaos along his path.
The animals ran faster away from the fire,
Whilst the flames leapt higher and higher.
A mamba slithered forward next,
Whilst a frightened cub looked on perplexed,
A Zebra, tripped and broke his back,
Causing more confusion in this race track.
The springbok and hyena together ran,
They were now close to the water pan,
The pan was next to a river,
Would they make it,
Each animal began to quiver,
Could the springbok be tomorrow’s lunch,
A tree falls with a thud and crunch,
Distracting the hyena from his would be munch!
The fox cunningly glances from side to side,
Nimbly a burning log jumps wide.
The lions mouth their cubs gently but tight,
As they run from this horrendous plight.
But water is in sight!
Everyone is close to the finish line,
This race has become competitively fine,
The crocodiles are savagely waiting to dine!
They have spotted their first meal,
The frightened perplexed cub hurriedly steal.
Only a quarter,
Can get into the water.
A stampede starts, animals clamber over each other,
The young ones protected by their mother.
Unfortunately only the strongest will survive,
To tell future generations of their strive,
Of what it’s like, living a bush veld life.
Categories:
spindly, animal, fire,
Form:
Rhyme
Spotted Fawn and I
I whispered quietly to you, just a foot away
"I am not here to harm you, just gathering
wild ramps on this limestone bluff" curled up
next to a beach tree, one eye peaking at me
near the ground, ears alert, you lay so peacefully
enrobed in golden fur with brilliant ivory spots!
I will never see you again, dear one, but I know
I will always remember your ebony eye looking
at me revealing the wonders of our universe,
for that I am in your gratitude.
As I moved away, she gently lifted to spindly
legs & effortlessly hopped away, leaving me
alone on the bluff, tired, weak, a bit dizzy
from effort, filled with solitary silence, inner
peace I only feel after talking with animals
in the wild, knowing I belong.
Categories:
spindly, animal,
Form:
Free verse
Acres of lush emerald meadows
burst forth from pregnant earth,
creating the perfect background for a
dazzling array of wildflowers.
Expectant mothers of beast and fowl
fill the countryside with new
generations, eager to find their way.
Honeybees and hummingbirds
in frenzied competition for sweet nectar.
Jasmine and gardenia blossoms
kindle their senses with a
lustful, pungent fragrance.
Mares, folding new colts,
nudgeing them gently up
on quivering, spindly legs.
Ponds give travel to ducklings following in the
quake of proud mamas.
Rainbow trout rush upstream to
spawn, before laying eggs in lazy pools.
Throughout floral scented air,
unfettered birds soar freely,
voicing a revival of hope and joy.
Whimsical butterflies take a rest on
xylem, between aireal ballets.
Young babes everywhere, renewing our world with a
zest for life's adventures, awaiting.
02/16/15
Contest: Abecedarian
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
spindly, hope, nature, spring,
Form:
Abecedarian
A woodland path in the dappled sun- hushed and quiet
where I come free my breast and silently ponder.
I gaze upon a spiritual calm and listen to its quiet song
releasing tranquility of mind that does wander.
Between branches of towering mixture of spindly trees
encased in morning sunlight smoky haze;
I hear the rustle of hanging leaves falling gently as a sigh,
conceding tired mellow heart to praise.
In far distance echoes soft cries of lonesome blue jay,
quickly taunting squirrel gives harassing reply.
In shadows of bushy foliage, sunlight fails to cast
hides ground creatures that have come to spy.
A cool soothing breeze sweetly lulls an inward peace
capturing solitude within fractured soul.
Suddenly troubled trapped mind feels timely at ease
when moment seized a woodland stroll.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
6/6/2011
Third Place Winner ~ "A Woodland Path” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
July 6, 2011
Categories:
spindly, inspirational,
Form:
Quatrain
In my bed.
Winter blahs.
Colorless ground
Icy jaws.
I poke my head
Timidly forth.
I see some green
I feel some warmth.
I stretch my tendrils
Toward the sky.
Spindly spikes
Reaching high.
Slowly my body
Unclenches, unfurls
Displaying a wonder
Color and curls.
I dance in the breeze
In joyous abandon
I bow and I spin
Appearing quite random.
But when I pause
In the sunshine of life
I see the most wondrous
Sight of my life.
Right here, in my bed,
While I flitted, oblivious,
Was done a miracle
Not usually privy us.
For far as I looked
To my left and my right
My front and my back
In day and in night.
Fields of color
Pastel, neon, bright.
All posing and twisting
To find the best light.
I bow to their beauty
They bow back in kind
Diversity fills
My sight and my mind.
Some neighbors are dark
Some shorter, some tall
Some petals reach up
Some bend, swoop and fall.
Some dropped by a bird,
Some planted with love,
But all finding life
From the Source up above.
I'm thankful for color
In every direction.
I'm thankful for difference
Not boring reflection.
Joyful integration.
But more work ahead.
My neighbors and I
Hope to make our bed spread!
So take it from me
The humblest of flower
In difference is strength,
A rainbow has power!
Love is the key;
With light always sow.
And life will be fruitful,
Your kingdom will grow.
2nd place in theme #7 colors, judged 1/28/2016
Categories:
spindly, anti bullying, character, discrimination,
Form:
Rhyme
Don’t Get Me Irish Up
Me glasses were sitting a-top-a me head
the jam I was spreading was next to the bread
my knees were together but me spindly legs spread
I’m either half way in ---or out of the bed
I have to look down when brushing me teeth
and glue them in tight before chewing me meat
and as for the callous that grows wild on my feet
I find sanding them a sensual treat
Me fingers resemble cold, wintering trees
aging icicles hang from my elbows and knees
the slightest of movements puts a scent on the breeze
and to make matters worse I pee when I sneeze
Me back’s slightly bent, me forehead is wrinkled
when reading a menu, me eyes, yes – they’re crinkled
when I fall asleep they say “ the old boy’s Van Winkled”
and me stories they say are all “Blarney sprinkled”
Me slippers are worn, me legs freshly shorn
the skin of me cheeks soft as the day I was born
but when they break out the corned beef and stout
all of me parts start to dancing about
John G. Lawless
© 3/6/2017
Categories:
spindly, humor, ireland, music,
Form:
Rhyme
A short pleasant drive through the pathway
Between the impenetrable woodlands lying untamed -
Cradled by soft wind, the scenic lush foliage I gaped at
During my recent visit to my homeland
Enriched and cheered my dreary mind;
Fresh breeze, so pure, gently tousled my hair
Giving me a feel that right then I was
Heading towards a heavenly hamlet; the
Idyllic green cover was embellished with mangoes, enormous and
Jackfruits, huge. The flowering trees with vivid blooms formed a
Kaleidoscope of colours glinting in soft sunlight after a drizzle;
Lofty trees shaped a canopy of leaves, so artistic, and glued
My eyes to its pristine rustic charming beauty:
No wonder this land is called ‘God’s Own Country’ -
Of all the beautiful places, here is Nature at Her best!
Ponds, lakes and streams were fringed with long
Queues of coconut trees, some leaning over the lakes -
Reflecting and glistening in the water below;
Shh! The soft silvery clouds and the misty hills seemed
To be engaged in a cosy-chat - so dreamy and enchanting;
Upon the luxuriant land sprawled large spindly rubber trees -
Verdurous, lined up in orderly rows - so mystic - as if
Wishing to whisper a secret in my ears. Listening to
Xylophone music from my son’s mobile, so peaceful, my mind
Yearned to glance more at Her graceful face!...as the
Zig-zag road, untiring, unfurled before my eyes, with its twists and turns.
Date: 06/23/2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Categories:
spindly, nature,
Form:
Abecedarian
I prepare myself for a deep relaxing bath
but that dratted spider was out to have a laugh
As I pour scented bubble bath into the water
Spidey climbs the wall - he’d also bought his daughter*!
He raises a spindly leg as if to wave hello
that pesky crawling spider really needs to go
It's a living a nightmare, it isn’t a dream
So I emit a very loud ear piercing scream
My heroic hubby dashes to my aid
as my distress was clearly displayed
Whilst I stand their screaming like a stupid bimbo
hubby tosses the weeny spider out the bathroom window
Alas the daddy spider he has other plans
and wriggles his way out of hubby’s hands
Hubby drops the creepy critter onto the floor
spidey plans his escape, he's heading for the door
Hubby pounces on him at breakneck speed
and squashes him flat ... he’s dead indeed*
*A great deal of poetic licence – thankfully there was only one spider and he was tossed out of the Window* I think the warm weather is bringing these pesky spider’s out from hiding:-(
Follow up poem to www.poetrysoup.com/poem/i_confessed_to_a_cold_blooded_murder_1029155
6/9/18
Categories:
spindly, home, humorous, insect,
Form:
Couplet
Gourmet Spider
Please, please, please don’t eat me
I am so tiny
Not a meal at all
Eight spindly legs and no abdomen to speak of
So please, please, please don’t eat me
I have tapped and drummed on your web
To soothe your voraciousness
Now let me crawl stealthily to the back
Move aside your spinneret
And copulate
But please, oh please don’t eat me
I am not a meal you would call worthy
Of those ferocious mandibles
And the glinting cold gems of your myriad eyes
Please, please don’t eat me
Not this time any way
And if you like I will promise to be a ready meal
Just add water
And you will eat your fill
But not this time
Ok
Not this time
This time let me escape
The deed done
I impregnate
You
And as I scramble over the treads of sticky silk
The panic in my heart
Is a treacherous mistake
For she looks always for the perfection in her lovers
ESCAPE !!!!!!!!
AAAAAGGHHHHH !
What was that
Oh no……
You beautiful …………………………………… cold…………………..
………………………………voracious……………… Bit………………………..
Categories:
spindly, animalsme, time,
Form:
Free verse
Mint in the eyes, metal in mood
buckled in sunshine, burning in brood
You represent all in life that is good
I long to be in your presence.
Sipping your whispers, earful and shine
standing like I still believe you are mine
Sappy and spindly in limbs while I pine
I miss your touch with a vengeance.
Wind in my mouth, catching my breath
pulling me forward until I accept
we are a mist from our birth to our death
We are the virtue in essence.
Categories:
spindly, family, introspection, life, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
veils escape the province of the sea
like sea lions bouncing balls
presenting their accoutrements.
the silken fare, in the center of the square -
everyone sees the princely dyes.
off to the side, a nun, on her knees
tying shoes, wiping tears with her scapular,
the forlorn child formless and empty, like the earth
in the beginning, until God said, “Let there be light.”
Dorothea, a gift of God, reveals that glory
unseen, untouched by the ladies of the night.
the child swaddled in the nun’s habit, like an embryo -
she hears the mothering heartbeat — as if the ocean,
clear as glass, showed off its icons broadway style.
the child overwhelmed, has no name
for the empirical pounding in her chest.
Sister David they would call her in the penguin house,
a woman after God’s heart, but Dorothea herself
made the covenant.
the veils like clouds swirl all around
in a seaside mist, the dustbowl urn,
“ashes to ashes, dust to dust,”
her mother’s breasts like a harbor
to the seamen, so many of them —
did her father arrive with the rest?
she would never know,
but of this she did — this gift of God
looked into her spindly eyes, made
her habit a boat that sailed far far away
to an island that would shine all day.
children of the silken winds,
battered by retreating shore
found solace together, overrun
by the habits of nuns, with
hands that soothe and discipline,
teach that the flipside of the beach
has warmth and a perfect soulmate.
Be she a fiddler, a thief, or kind —
Dorothea has saved girls’ lives.
5/19/2020
NUN POETRY CONTEST
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Categories:
spindly, character, children,
Form:
Free verse
Wings are eyelids.
A mind can be left aside on a workbench
while the brain teaches the sky to sleep.
Mother lives in a jar in an old curiosity shop.
Father enters the world bringing extinct words
he has found in the future.
Your child is not yours; it is a god you found
in a self-help book. You create symbols,
give them meaning, sell them for nothing.
Invisible pennies drop from the hands of a beggar.
The laboratory smells of lilacs it is your mothers
favorite color, purple gives her a headache.
You build talking machines, they march up and down
on spindly metal legs, their feet tap-dance.
Here you are a family of one, the solar system
lives in one eye, the other is a deep space
where poetry births its many ghosts,
they arrive as a blue flame when you ignite
the rocket fuel in your Bunson burner.
Categories:
spindly, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
The leaves whisper in the trees,
They crackle like fire underfoot,
They spoil and rot,
The color of their skin turns,
As they die in a brilliance of color,
Their crumpled bodies lay sprawled across the grass,
Waiting to be collected and put in body bags,
Or cremated in burning barrels or firepits,
The death of a season,
They take away the green of the grass,
They leave the trees bare,
Their spindly skeletons stand rigid,
Having lost their sway along with their leaves,
The leaves take away the flowers,
The birds begin to dwindle down,
Their trilling growing quieter and quieter,
They consider leaving for warmer air to fill with their song,
The leaves take so much,
But give our world a flash of color in return,
Shiny, eye-catching gold,
Like jewelry dressing the trees,
And fiery orange and red,
Bursting with the color of flames,
A wonderful gift I sometimes take for granted.
Categories:
spindly, seasons,
Form:
Free verse
apple blossoms
fall from spindly boughs
to browning grass
squirrel digging
for nuts
2-18-2022
A Brian Strand Tanka Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Categories:
spindly, animal, nature, poems, poetry,
Form:
Tanka