Best Sticks Poems
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But your lies will cease to hurt me
You think that you have finally won
But don't think I'll let you burn me
I'll sit and smile and make you think
I know nothing of what you do
But secretly I'll make you see
The last laugh will be on you
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But your decet will hurt no more
You won't see me cry a singel tear
As I watch you walk out that door
Don't think that you can go astray
And plan on coming back
I don't believe in forgiveness
I'd rather have a heart attack
My love for you has slowly died
I buried it today
I built a wall around my heart
To keep all men away
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words can break much more
They can take your heart and leave the pieces
Shattered all over the floor
Catapulting ice
falling from my roofs gutters
dangerous to all.
Don’t walk or stand beneath it;
or you may end up impaled!
Sticks and stones, never hurt them bones
Names, cut him to the kwik
They hurt so deep, for to make him weep
More than any club, or stick
See the sun won't shine and it won't be fine
And it won't all fade away
And it don't seem right, that he has to fight
A world that calls him gay
So he'll hang his head and he'll live his life
While his soul is torn in two
Spend his teenage years, with his straight-laced peers
And a heart, so black and blue
The taunting in the classroom
The whispers 'round the bend
The vision of a cold tomb
Oh! will it ever end
My love it's not so different
My dreams are pure and true
Why do you stand in judgement
Of a heart, so black and blue
If you are cathedral of consecration
I'm the voluminous chime summoning souls
If you are the moonglade mountain peak
I'm the fedora of snow atop you
If you are the bantam flame of hope
I'm the mammoth lantern you sit in
If you are the magnificent crown of laurel
I'm the koh-i-noor glowing your majesty
If you are the whorly petals of the gypsy-sue
I'm the daggerlike thorns of flaw
If you are the bard of the Zambezi
I'm the first sonnet of your anthology
If you are the mythical firebird
I'm the scarlet embers of reincarnation
If you are the forsaken pirate ship
I'm the glubs of your drowning
If you are the ancient persian pearl
I'm the millions carats speaking your worth
If you are the sacred vial of eternity
I'm the gluck to the kingdom come
If you are cathedral of consecration
I'm the open arms of the door of mercy
only sticks
the bare will be
covered up soon
leaves that will bud
come alive
and make me feel
young again
2/27/2023
Those stupid words
The anguish they cause
So carelessly used
Without second thought
No sharper, these blades
Which stab from the tongue
Leave scars ever deep
The damage is done
They scrape off all skin
Bury under the heart
Tear down the soul
Ruin innermost self
Carving the pain
Sliced up so small
Pieces now lost
Scattered the wind
Build up, start again
Memories, new
Strengthen yourself
Look up at the sky
Ignore the noise
Breathe in the air
You are so perfect
Just as you are
***
June 14, 2017
Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White
CANDY CANE STICKS
bent little crooks
red and white
stripes
help us swallow
Christmascrass
hype
succor sugar comforts
stuffed stocking taboo
peppermint sticks
disabling treats
bow to licking
lips
spry little hooks that
stoop to bingecringe
stick sickly sweet
decaying teeth
succor sugar comforts
stuffed stocking taboo
tastebuds tingle
sleighbells jingle
cell-o-feigns
freed
Candy Cane
Christmascrass
creed
© Kim van Breda—1 December 2015
As needles on skin.
Mimic of rain on glass.
So are the razor blades,
of words without class.
As venom on tooth.
A winged creature's sting.
Of cutting knife's speech,
No good thing can bring.
As a lover's betrayal.
A friend turned foe.
Things tend to follow,
like vocabulary's blow.
As stones meant to build.
A substance from which is fed.
Take care what is chosen.
Rather, whats needed to be said.
-Angel Fatale-
Nothing is turning out like I wanted it to.
Everything is now black and blue.
Wrist cut up with a sharp blade.
Blood rushing out like it's being made.
Thoughts of death running through my mind.
Nothing is clear to me, I am blind.
What's going on?
Scissors are suddenly being drawn.
My end is near.
I can see it start to appear.
What you thought were funny jokes.
Made me want to choke.
Prank calls, blocked messages, statuses all calling me names.
You all have caused me so much pain.
Whore, ****, *****, cow, fat, ugly reappearing in my head.
I don't know what to do anymore but lay in my bed.
Who am I supposed to turn to?
I have no one but you.
I dream at nights about not being here anymore.
I don't think I'm a whore.
I have a plan now.
Explain it to me now.
I've got a gun.
It's all been done.
I'm leaving now.
Goodbye everyone, Goodbye forever.
My mama always told me that
"Hicks in the sticks"
was a thing way back when.
Timeless as mortar and bricks.
But who woulda thought
that someday she'd marry one?
Bet she didn't say hick no more,
her name itself was now and pun.
I'd always be jealous of other kids
and their long and extravagant surnames.
Mine might as well a cough or a sneeze,
p'raps I'll change it if I ever come to fame!
Sure ain't no Guadalajara
or Lamoureux.
Truth be told It'd sound more interesting
to just call me Mr. So 'n' So.
If you look far enough down the family line
you'll find the spelling changes... they ditch the C-K-S.
Can you believe that my already minuscule name
used to be a whole two letters less?
It's a running joke at work that it sounds
more appealing to the opposite sex.
So if I run into someone I like I'll be like
"Call me Mr. Hicks... with an X".
But I guess I'm stuck with it
'til the day they put me in the ground.
I'll be a "Hicks in the sticks" to you if y' fancy.
What's all this fuss about a sound?
NOTE: I wanted to write something reminiscent of Jack Ellison's quirky humor.
STICKS AND STONES
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Every epoch has its own bone chilling word
Causing great trepidation when ever its heard
If you wanted to destroy a group or anyone
This choice word would get the damage done
A thousand years ago it was heretic or heresy
Accuse if you had a grudge or coveted property
The catholic church was aware of dogma revision
So in circa 1232 the pope authorized the “ inquisition “
It started out as a process to unify the church
But morphed into a system to extort and besmirch
Corrupt authorities held trials on their own
Their final verdict guilty, was predictably known
The papal trials were mostly honest and fair
If found guilty the accused could pledge his repair
To follow the teachings and dogma each day
Do penitence, pay a fine and swear never to stray
Locals were more drastic with penalties applied
Burned at the stake even if the person had died
Males were accused of fornication with succubus
Females willingly sleeping along side the incubus
No one was safe from the envious of being accused
Tortures with painful devices were commonly used
Confessions obtained with torture an outright farce
Easy to admit anything with a hot poker in your ****
Forward to the present, does the devil even exist ??
We’re too sophisticated to believe in satanic trysts
But we want our own word to accuse and destroy
Being politically correct is the perfect ploy
One word can make anyone cease and desist
Just point your finger and yell “ racist”
Sticks and stones
May break my bones
But words will never hurt me
Obviously the man who said that
Never heard all the terrible things
That those kids said to me.
Stick and stones
Will break your bones
But they will heal faster
Than the words that hurt me;
Who ever said it the opposite way
Must of never been bullied like me;
Pretending to be strong,
Just going along,
Trying to sing a song.
But the words, they cut you like a knife
They made you,
Hate your life
And as a small child than,
You still understood
The cruelty of adulthood.
They called you names
And tried to beat you up in vain;
But the bullies never prevailed
You had caught them by their tale
And than the names stopped
And all the beatings they gave you dropped
You never got hurt again
But sometimes you still wish you couldn't make it to the end
But you kept treading water baby
No bullies could get over you love
For you are stronger than the heavens above
You are,
So loved
They will never look at you the same way again
The bullying has finally come to an end
Limerick: Once a delicious hen fed on rice-sticks
for Delysia Hendricks, with many, many thanks
Once a delicious hen fed on rice-sticks
Loved gorging herself on limericks
She pecked on a sweet line
It turned all alkaline
Now chicken’s served with acid on bricks.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Onto the blank page,
Pour forth thoughts; ink lines of black;
Thought forms of fluid;
A calligraphers ink-scape
A magical miracle.