Best Stains Poems
My words are lost in ink stains
Verses smudged in prints of you
Illegible scribbles soon fill in lines
Once paved with love anew
Now only paperless pain ensues
An unnatural sequence of thoughts
Scribed in distressed hues of blue
Will re-actively release your grip
But the pain it can’t undo
Now only agony grew
My heart hands weep writes of tomorrow
My paper and pen are tempered in sorrow
My emotions bellow wallows
Of a mournful mind
I pray
This too
Shall pass
In time…
Categories:
stains, angst, introspection, loss, lost
Form:
Free verse
STAINS OF BLOOD
I heard the cries from far away
The sounds of anguish all the way
The tears had flowed like Tsunami floods
A plague has led our land awry
Scenes of passionate rages reigned
Heartbreaks, shots of depression rained
Like an abattoir filled with bones and blood
Our lands became awash with blood
Heartless hands that maimed our men
Have struck our land with darts at will
With gruesome tact their tasks were done
The task to slay our men away
We saw our warriors staggered and fell
With bloodied limbs and heads and being
We saw our kindreds breathe their last
And could not awake to our calls and groans
Can you hear the helpless orphan’s howl
Their mothers struck with shock untold
As their losses, pains and grief unfold
Oh, who shall mend their hearts apiece!
…Dedicated to the many lives who have been devoured by sectarian terrorist attacks in my nation… and beyond…
Categories:
stains, death, horror, sorry, sympathy,
Form:
Free verse
Tried not to look back
For the past is already in the past
But the past left a stain
Which I cannot conceal nor erase
A stain of blue and red
From the pains I’ve been through
Blue for the lonely road I took
And red for the sorrow that tormented me
This stain will dwell forever
And forever, it will be a hassle
Let it stay though
To remind me that I am a survivor!
Categories:
stains, loneliness, lost, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
the drink
that greets me
with a good
morning kiss,
the smell
that awakens
my hands as
the fire
slides down
my throat
is nothing
compared
to the
comfort
I feel in
your arms.
you
touch my
imperfectly
bruised body,
you accept
my coffee-
stained,
crooked teeth
as they
smile at
every joke.
in my eyes,
you see
flecks of gold
where I see
constant worry.
you see my
soul, the
person I never
before knew.
Categories:
stains, feelings, fire, love, metaphor,
Form:
Lyric
Tear Stains.
My heart so filled with missing you
it's the middle of the night.
Teardrops stain the paper
on which I'm trying to write.
It feels just like I'm lying
when I say I'm doing fine.
I'm find so little comfort
for this old heart of mine.
Loving me loving you
one thing I know for certain.
I cannot let you see me now
or tell you how I'm hurting.
So I tell you that I'm doing great
and how the sun here shines.
And hope somehow you see tear stains
and read between the lines.
Fighting myself one more time
a battle I can't win.
As I rush toward tomorrow
when I'll see you again.
Edwin C Hofert
Categories:
stains, absence, adventure, conflict, encouraging,
Form:
Rhyme
Ink Stains
I have two tabs open, forgot to eat, the studio has no lighting and it smells like cigarettes, but I don’t smoke
There's napkins piled by my library, but they’re not stained with semen, the desert is framed on my wall and my thoughts are written below
It's been cold way too long, I read the tales of madmen and junkies to feel comfortable, and at the same time having mild panic attacks
Sleep is only six hours long and I always wake up fully dressed, as seen with my own eyes from above
The Manhattan Bridge is abandoned, the Bowery looks lonesome, the paddy wagons are frozen, The Chrysler's forgotten, his brother is where people climb up to the roof, just to jump off
1st Ave is nothing but insane asylums and wealth, everywhere I go I'm surrounded by trust funds, who make it hard for me to go anywhere,
The East Village used to be Punks, now its cunts
I leave my stain everywhere I go, I am now the older generation
Every morning I'm by the East River, my heart is lost in Europe, and my writing is stuck in New York
My muse is an angel, and I am possessed
I am a drinker, and a romantic, I'm a spic, but also human, I cry because I'm sensitive
My hair is messy and my eyes are fire bombed, my breath is rotten and the paste is clay
My pockets have bled in Washington Square Park, my pants are now stained, and my screams remain silent.
Categories:
stains, city, depression, me,
Form:
Verse
The night you tried
I was trying to enjoy a cheeseburger
I called your bluff blindly
I was bored by you
You decided to prove me wrong
I heard the distinct click
the noisy pop
my burger dropped
I had ringing in my ears
It landed on the plate
bloody with ketchup
ketchup splatters everywhere
Burgers remind me of you
I don't dare eat them
They make me sick.
Categories:
stains, death, depression, fear, sad,
Form:
Taste the ink
that runs from my veins,
through my pen,
staining this page
as I set
my endarkened imprint on society,
the signature
of a melancholy soul.
I spread my mists of verse
across this parchment
to tickle the emotions
of the masses,
awakening them
from the doldrums of routine,
encroaching
their own hidden thought
like I had clawed them
out of their heads.
Those destructive intentions,
severing flesh,
splattering blood
and little morsels of meat,
creating impressionistic art
on the walls
of their safe little dwellings.
Hellonic landscapes,
reddish smoke
seeping from fissures
in a volatile ground,
twisted trees
barely seven feet tall
hanging on
like a gnarled old man
on life support
sparsely scattered
about the sandstone bluffs,
spiraling dust devils
dancing about
spitting dirt
in the air
as if it offended them,
leaving dull tan voids
in the sky
distorting the crimson hue
that clings above
the deteriorating,
jagged spikes
that scratch
at heaven’s gates,
holding back
the water laden clouds
that have been trying to cry
on this parched earth
for eons.
The instigation
of my imagination
is a mere speckle
in the nuances of the night,
a slight glitter
that my cataclysmic mind
(a)
preys upon.
These stanzas
have been developing
since time itself,
I just snatch them out of the air
like an Archer fish
launching a stream of water
to score my next meal,
laying them to bed
as I see fit,
tucking them in with punctuation
and my unexplainable determination
to release expression.
Taste what flows
from my quill,
it might entice you
to be the next scribe.
Categories:
stains, angst, imagination, on writing
Form:
Prose Poetry
Years of washing,
yet the stains won't fade;
Washboard worn,
My fingers,
Bleed.
A cleansing of my soul,
is maybe what I need.
Bits of metal,
chips of wood;
years of washing,
yet still,
misunderstood...
Years of washing,
Yet the Stains won't fade;
Alone, unclean;
Feeling betrayed...
Years of washing,
the Stains,
won't fade;
Ready for the reaper,
Suit, Tie,
Decay...
Categories:
stains, death, life, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
Soul stains red
Red
rides high
on
temper
as denied
birth rights
to
females
stay rampant,
Blazing crimson
traverses
through my
veins,
tender
emotions
bleed fast,
stain
till soul's
depth.
Written July 3rd,2015
For contest "Waltzing with colour" by Kim merryman
Color chosen- Red
Categories:
stains, angst,
Form:
Verse
There is a place that I will never eat at again
I look back at the nightmare when I was ten
Back then not much of a strong stomach to endure what I did
This horror I couldn't keep hid
First of all, you know that back then, when they used the fly tape
It was full of its intended guests and dangling three inches from our plates
Some were buzzing and squirming to get free
The scene was already getting the best of me
Welcome to the eatery that leaves you emotionally drained
The name of it is Ketchup Stains
One paper napkin issued to you as you walk in the door
If your table is not ready, you sit on a dirt floor
Sometimes you see a bug or two
It is almost as if the bugs are not afraid of you
Everyone shares the same utensils and paper plate
That is why with multiple orders, you take turns eating, while other family
members wait
As you sit impatiently suffering from hunger pains
The place is crowded, with free bathroom admission at Ketchup Stains
You ask the waitress to refill the glass for you daughter
You watch as she dips the glass in the Horse Trough to get the water
You ask the waitress where is the ice
She says when that table there is empty, you can have theirs, now won't that be
nice
I ask her why do we have to share, this is insane
She says, this is all part of our hospitality at Ketchup Stains
I tell her don't expect a tip for your service
She says give me a reason to modify your food and make you nervous
I tell her it's time we go, cancel the food
She asks where did I grow up and become so rude
We have a history of everyone leaving happy, no one complains
Ya'll come back soon, share a spoon and enjoy some family time at Ketchup
Stains
By the time we left there, we had a car full of hate
It bothered us so much, that night, we took flight and moved to another state
Categories:
stains, food, funny, family, time,
Form:
ABC
Darkness lingers
on the other side
of the glass
Sweet disaster
rings in my ears
As I drink myself
to indifference
Tiny buckets
of amber radium
burn trails
down my throat
leaving craters
in my soul
Never reaching
the thirst or the
inviting darkness
In one-eyed splendor
I look up from my glass
to rearrange dusty words
and search my desert soul
for a sliver of shade
But the darkness remains
just out of reach
yet never more
than a drink away.
Categories:
stains, angst, depression, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
There's a pile of sullied threads
from our muddied yesterdays
of a life we stripped bare
to be thrown into the wash
a hoard of soiled toggery
too foul to be cleansed
I tried to bury all of it
but the shovel of hurt
blistered my hand
pervading memories
suffused in my thoughts
inured scent of us lingers
unbleached... unwashed
well worn and ill-used
how long before I can ignore them
gathered in an alcove in my mind
these dark stains of discontent
too tainted to be purified
with human hands
Categories:
stains, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
If you could underestimate her
then you could unwind
and take it all in without the divine
pressure, and nothing's missing. But if you find
a piece of her, then she becomes like an echo
singing in your ears, writhing on your skin.
Then as it goes you can't win-
out the sensations,
and she'll be present in every song, all the vibrations.
Straining soft chords and sweating relations
to attain the harmony of a basic instinct,
an urge like "rage against the dying of the light," If you could only blink,
flows alive and in sync into all the places.
You could live in every room where she's opening spaces
and laughing as you do. It's the natural way she chases
the light into your darkest corner,
in the very core of you. And it's crystal clear
how everything collides when she's near,
mimicking the fluidity of her.
It doesn't stop, you turn and the world is just her
playground when her eyes are watching
all the players
are smooth and unshakable, like the timing
that flows to anything,
and everything becomes covered with her stains.
Categories:
stains, love
Form:
Rhyme
Into the world, pure ~*~
we protect and shelter, whilst
life's avenues open ~~~
sadly, the fortunes of war
displays our lost, stains of life ~*~
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-7.php
Categories:
stains, life, loss, lost love,
Form:
Tanka