Best Stain Poems
an early morning rise,
up the stairs
walk into the bathroom
in the sink
a small stain of blood.
less than a measure of yesterday
pulling a baby out of the womb into my arms.
on the sheets
a small stain of blood.
midwives wrap
my first born
snug and warm.
when her mother
finally gets her initial fill
she hands me this precious
new life.
i hold her knowing
there is nothing,
nothing!,
nothing...
nothing.,
nothing-
better then this moment!,
sweet scented perfection!,
lulls me into a peaceful bliss.
as she grows,
i spend my best times with her
and later her sister too.
my daughters own me
lock,
stock
and
barrel.
Ali?
i still see your
baby green eyes
reaching out to me.
i still smell your
childhood scent.
i can still taste
your hopes and dreams.
i can still touch
your youth as if it were now,
hear your tiny voice
"daddy i love you but you're my best friend too".
there is nothing,
nothing!,
nothing...
nothing.,
nothing-
better then this moment!,
you're now twenty two.
in the sink?
a small stain of blood.
in your bedroom
cocaine,
syringes,
...everywhere.
i clean
carefully picking them up.
i know you know you're playing
russian roulette with your life.
the drug convinced you
your life isn't worth living.
that's what drugs do.
they're that snake in the garden of eden
and you know eve ate that apple
and you know she sacrificed everything
for a fruit that would never taste that good again.
evil always presents itself as the only choice
while good seems too tough an alternative
but the truth is, the harder you have to work for it
the better it feels and it holds its feel with nothing to chase.
you can't hear me
the monster deeply
imbedded in you.
but Ali i love you
and Ali my heart weeps
and on my chest sits
a small stain of blood!
June 3 2015
Armand
skies of rainbow blue as ocean moves
girl’s sassy swirls of soft tangled hair,
where pearls would dare clasp its curls
glow in her eyes special gentle blue
waves flow of tear drops buckets full
beautiful mud stain blush cheeks
Oh, such a handful only three feet high
arms full of endless hugs and pretty please
barefooted, dirty, and grass stain knees
while magpie explores the world never to say good-bye
double bubbles scents of lavender berries
pink and blue little ponies warm and cozy PJs
night promise dreams of fairies,
flowering ponds, bunnies, and butterflies
over and over stories whispers lullabies hums
sleep little angel in clouds full of stars
wishes of rainbow bridges to the moon
fairyland castles held by balloons
where little ponies play musical tunes
yesterday’s gardens today and tomorrow
fairies glimmer flittering amongst its blooms
enchanting flavors of snow cones,
bubblegum and cherry plums
unicorns, maidens, and gnomes chuckles
sleep till morning when you rise
to endless hugs and pretty please
explore the world never to say good-bye
2/2/2016
in an
angst- saturated
moment i find you there in
my travel bag, injured by the neglect of
a poorly screwed-on sparkling water bottle cap:
my beloved poetry notebook of fifteen years. You are
now one-third soaked and stained at the top. I shudder to
think of throwing you away or burying you in the cemetery of
old college diaries and love letters. You were my faithful collector of
anxiety and pleasure, cleverness and drought, loneliness and victory;
oftentimes tucked away for months at a time as creative energies were
diverted to other outlets. Like a loyal dog whose master travels away, you
never gave up on me. How many times the tears stained your inky pages
long before I even knew that sparkling water was a thing! When friends
moved away, or betrayed me (how i wished THEY would move away), when loved ones died too young, or old ones lived too long (how they wished THEY could die instead), when my son was slaying dragons and my daughter was breaking up with an inattentive boyfriend; when my wife struggled with her sisters, or when I agonized through physical therapy or cancer surgery, you were patiently there for me. Even as my joints and stitches eventually healed, you continue to be my invaluable companion, both for my history you contain to the left, and for the blank, hope-filled pages to the right. Like me, you are aging, stained, lumpy, scarred, but two-thirds useful as i write under the stain.
///NOTE: the shape above roughly mirrors the unstained portion of my notebook, which I will continue to use in its deformed and lumpy new state!
Also, no poems were harmed in the making of this poem. I write in pencil, so the water didn't render any previous pages unreadable, thankfully!///
Stain on the coffee table.
Where did you come from?
Your brown halo. From overflowing
cup? Maybe clumsy stumble.
I don't remember seeing you
yesterday in this place. Since I
don't drink coffee
you're probably a tea stain
that I need to clean again.
The Stain of Death
Going into that terrible place
A living dust-bin, black bags
With clothes and books inside
No sign of individuality
Packs and stacks of anonymity
Nothing there to define her personality
But a big stain of vomit on the inside of the toilet
There she made her mark in her last hours
Nothing else in her house of horrors that lets you know
She ever lived there
And even that vile stain is only a sign that
She died there
The swivel of her skirt casts
a pale silhouette around a thin frame--
her face riddled by a strange look
obscured by dazzle of yellows
from a moonlit skyline and lamp posts:
Bright cluster of blooms dwindles
against her stoic gaze,
her dark blouse stained by some
gauze of grief-- she walks
poised ... yet anonymously alone.
Wabi-Sabi stain
Wabi-Sabi stain, our soul wears
We review in wonder
We are healed when love with love pairs
Birthing soundless thunder
We feel magnetic heat
Benign burn, head to feet
In sync with God’s bliss beat
Heart’s now free from pain
Wabi-Sabi stain
23-July-2022
Quietus
On indigo skies, there was sunlit stain,
Exotic hues, that ever clash and blend,
For daytime's loss, had become evening's gain,
And all golden days must come to an end,
Like the green bird that's flown around the bend,
Vividly lovely, on skies of twilight!
Orange and red stain, of vision's delight,
And wildly eclectic, like fields of blooms.
Such bright abstract stains, at the sun's last might,
That lingers, like full bloom flowers' perfumes!
The intentional infliction of pain on a living being the agent's soul eternally stains!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
11 August 2018
"The Stain Crusaders"
Plath left the pages long ago
and Bacharach’s Blue-on-Blue
is an ineffectual softer numb-shade-of-Blue
dear green green Anthropocene
this much is true
with all the I love you’s
the wandering crusaders
are far far removed
sitting atop their soap boxes
sudsing up all the rooms
the silent stains in the poetic
are hard to remove
Ajax came coding unseen
like anticeptic borax
scrubbing out the irrelevance
dear green green Anthropocene
Shakespeare was never here
just a codex with a recipe
we seldom heed
most never read
the page book marked
dog-eared
maybe tomorrow
for the forget:
“My words fly up,
my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts
never to heaven go.”
Candide Diderot. ‘24
“We know what we are, but know not what we may be.”
“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Living amongst
Hell's battles
with little to gain
aftermath brings
stinging rain
as beauty dwells
in the blood
of the stain
Villanelle: Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Which mortal mammal’s primal address the rapists desecrate
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
Seeds of life ever come tumbling from out the sacred temple
There to greet in meiosis and in secret reverence gestate
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Do heathen women toiling in the dark draw the blinds on hell
And Gorgon heads of demons deep in them shudder vibrate
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
Yet deafening tunnel shrieks of the human species’ s carousel
Re-winds obsessive tinnitus ear-pounding thuds to celebrate
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Who keeps the sanctum sanctorum well-cleansed spiritual
But the defiant procreator linga tireless distending inebriate
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
He who bestial disembowels the temple in a frenzied spell
His own mother disowns and hysteric squats on life’s dictates
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
© T. Wignesan – Pars, 2014
I did not have sexual relations I swore
but my mouth organ and horn she asked for.
No one played like Monica
and she loved a good cigar
but now she won’t blow my nut sax anymore!
All my interns played it for me I confess
and with me pass an act of sexual congress.
That woman, Miss Lewinsky,
sure stained my Presidency
but Holy BJ, I sure stained her blue dress!
Written: July 2016
I wonder...
Wherever this nebulous varmint is
Here, there, everywhere
Does he ever look to himself in shame
He who leaves his iniquitous stains
For all the hatred he lays claim?
He gives tongue to the anemic, weakened mettle
Wheezing his nidorous, putrid breath into its chambers,
Leaving behind his dark black, deadly whispers
Of desolated emptiness- this demonic mister
He entombs them alive, those he perversely abducts
In his Cimmerian, shadowy hell
Slither back to your bottomless pit
You tenebrous angel from purgatory
You don't deserve a capital 'A'
In your God forsaken name
Demon of greed and endless shame
Conjuring up ways to wickedly ensnare
Those who've weakly stumbled to their knees
You were cast down from the Great One's Home
You don't deserve this world to roam
This is 'Lights Out'...
The demise of you and me
And everything I used to be!
Don't hurl me your meager crumbs of wretched love
As you wickedly tally my teardrops in The Mighty's rain
You menacing angel- I'm aware of your despicable fame
I'm through dancing to your stygian, sooty song
Go back to Hades where you chose to belong
You cheat, you lie with your unlit callous facade
You cerberus hound from hell- you are not from my loving God
I see behind your lurid, false masquerade
You, malevolent angel cast from Heaven above
I pray...
You incubus, you succubus
Recoil back to your wicked, burning inferno
Go crawling back to your lake of fire
Ye who chose crepuscular, selfish desire
And... Pathetically became you
I got green banana stain in my heart
I got Lacatan, Gros Michel, and Robuster
And payday tomorrow, sweetheart
I got big fields and dreams in a cluster
I got banana stain
Flowing in my Elderslie vein
And all I want is rain
To come on top tomorrow again.
I clear the land, and terrace the hill
Rid me of the nematodes and fungus there
Clean seed my corms, my day I fill
With work songs that from childhood I hear
I got banana stain
Flowing in my Elderslie vein
And all I want is rain
To come on top tomorrow again.
My children are gone to England to see
A new world without banana trees and blues
To climb ladders of brighter literacy
But me, this is all the kingdom I will chose
I got banana stain
Flowing in my Elderslie vein
And all I want is rain
To come on top tomorrow again
Government take my fruits from boxing plant
And move them by long boats to ships
That's when mscles churn like water, they pant
With oars that make sweet sweat drips
I got banana stain
Flowing in my Eldersle vein
And all I want is rain
To come top tomorrow again
I got green banana stain in my heart
Short nights an long days swaddling the bunches
And payday tomorrow, sweetheart
Pot to boil, and child dreaming while he lunches
I got banana stain
Flowing in my Elderslie vein
And all I want is rain
To come on top tomorrow again