Best Stiffness Poems
Sam Ebenezer
a sad ol' geezer
was lamenting his shrinkage of late:
my worthless ding-a-ling
is a bell without ring
my manhood in diminishing state
From whence I salute
is thin as a flute
and soft to the touch as cashmere
I search with persistence
it offers resistance
on nature's call to appear
On heeding that call
no waterfall
a few errant droplets at best
where once from the middle
I gushed, now I piddle
and half of my load veers west
Both feet on the urn
pushing forth from astern
I chant 'emerge hocus-pocus'
with my punctured esteem
watch the pitiful stream
dwindle to drops as Limp loses focus
Our wee-membered friend
wished his size to amend
the stiffness rerouted from his joints
have it rise to occasion
and stand to attention
consulted ol' Doc for his viewpoint:
My snake is dead
no flesh; just head
lies comatose and useless
my garden hose
once warmed my toes
now wrinkled, dry and juiceless
The senile old doctor
by name Alfred Proctor
had most of his wit in absentia
his breath smelt cheesy
Ebenezer felt queasy
Doc clearly suffered from senile dementia
Doc's hand took a dip
to just 'neath his ribs
as Ebenezer voiced his concern
Doc smiled all the while
said: your hopes are futile
there's no cure for your vanishing organ
I lost my virility
before my senility
long mourned my lost pride-and-joy
put my plight to rest
on realizing I'm blessed
to have in hand my own built-in toy
**************************************
Categories:
stiffness, funny, lost, lost,
Form:
Rhyme
We don't talk about it, I was mutely told,
Schooled in your nonverbal narcissism, I Attest
I became a linguist in the language of silence;
The tightened line of your mouth when a speck
of childhood play leaked through the Aperture
of your wall of control; the Nuance of your slit eyes,
the stiffness of your shoulders when I disturbed.
The famine of your brevity, starkly juxtaposed with
the Proclivity of your friendly words for the neighbors;
Your perfunctory weak praise, more to lessen your guilt
than lift my esteem.
Even as I write this Saga under the weight of betrayal
nearly undone by our mutual oath of avoidance, and
after decades of delay, you have the Temerity to now
charge me with building the distance, keeping the barricade.
I am bluntly surprised, by your surprise; to accuse me of
this Barren contact, is to blame the clay for the cracks
in the hands that molded it.
And you dare say, why am I this way?
When I inherited the Marrow from you-
10/27/18
for John Hamilton's Eight Word Challenge contest
required words: Aperture, Attest, Barren, Temerity, Saga, Proclivity, Nuance, Marrow.
Categories:
stiffness, father daughter, hurt, language,
Form:
Free verse
~Look At Me~
Look at me,I will wait until you can overcome your shyness,
I will wait until you become positive.
Look at me,I will wait until you overcome your touchiness,
I will wait until you become fearless.
Look at me,I will wait until you overcome your stiffness,
I will wait until you become loving.
Look at me,I will wait until you overcome your emptiness,
I will wait until you become blameless.
Look at me,I will wait until you overcome your nervousness,
I will wait until you become indispensable for me.
~I Will Not Wait~
Look at me,I will not wait because I felt you have a captivating
charm hidden under what you show as your authority.
I will not wait,because I am eager to become part of your life,
you gave me the impression that you have a gift of making me
feel imperishable.
I will not wait,because you are generous with your time and friendship,
you are generous with your love so it becomes durable and loyal.
I will not wait,because you gave me the impression that your enormous
sensitivity becomes your enormous strength to achieve your goals,and
help your partner during a lifetime.
I will not wait,because you gave me the impression that you bring
strength and intensity to your surroundings,you encourage your spirit
& soul to remain persistent and ambitious.
I will not wait,because you gave me the impression you are so powerful
and tenacious,nothing will stand in your way until you reach your
goals, as you do not like to be a failure.
I will not wait,because you gave me the impression that you can love me,
I will wait no more to manifest my love towards you beyond belief,
its unavoidable,its powerful,it needs no introduction anymore as my love
is instantaneous,endless,may I become your lover tonight. WOW,Yes.
Therese Bacha
9/4/2013
Categories:
stiffness, emotions, happy, i love
Form:
Prose Poetry
Child , stand up
Clothes deemed unfashionable
by followers with no individuality
Kinky locks not straight enough
according to those with no self realization
The stiffness in your tongue bearing testament
to your mother tongue, to which they laugh at, why?
You're Mahogany, sanded and buffed
well crafted and glossed to a high sheen
Vulnerable yet resilience is you
Intelligent yet humility is you
Poor yet generosity is you
Yes, you are all that and more
because you have captured and nurtured
a knowledge and pride in self
Your smile glows from within
as it brightens your surrounds
Don't be shackled with self doubt
for your strength feeds multitudes.
Your gentleness comforting many.
As you wear your head gear to dance,
dance till you turn up the dust
each muscle sinew in perfect coordination,
sweat weaving in between the seamless strings
of those beads crafted and carried with pride.
Roar with song!
Share your history through lore
Ululate till the sound carries to the heavens,
breaking the skies open with torrents of nourishing rains falling,
falling.
This ,Africa, is what you are...
Categories:
stiffness, africa, birth, blessing, encouraging,
Form:
Free verse
CITY GEOMETRY
I’m on big town
Inserted
Yea, transplanted
Within its swaying wave
Of box and angle
Where my self-identity
Is something throbbing
Upward gazing
Arrowing
To sky points
So, it’s confusing
The hate-love factor
Stiffness
Restriction
Formal sharpness of angle
A quite eye bewildering sight
This swirling circumference
Of a giant
Fractured
Circle
And oh!
The Stravinskyish
Jagged continuity
Of line
Of dissonance
For distance
I follow parallels
Lines receding
With absolute straightness
There a promise of
Those cherished
Fading meadows
Of nature’s roundness
Her natural sweetness
Suddenly!
I take a ninety-degree angle of turn
With mandatory city goose step
Toward sanity
Toward home
Dave Austin
Categories:
stiffness, corruption,
Form:
Free verse
In deep slumber madness, she comforts me
Appearing, unencumbered, from the mist
Subconscious suspension our nightly tryst
Erasing my mind of bad memories
She mends and warms my soul so tenderly
Imbibing my thoughts and heart with her kiss
Lovingly fulfills a long ago wish
Thankfully restoring my sanity
Regularly she visits in silence
Enlightening my dreams with wholesomeness
Wiping my tears of angered betrayal
Exchanging her love for malevolence
I awaken with renewed happiness
Refreshed from the angelic portrayal
**********
Rest easy, dear one. Night Angel is here
To ease the worry from your furrowed brow
Kiss to the cheek, I lay upon you now
In your sweetest dream you will feel me near
Memories of your past no longer live
No need for tears to fall from pain or stress
Tender love I offer in my caress
Gift of my thoughts to you this night I give
Wake on the morrow, glad to greet the sun
Knowing night has me coming through the mist
To comfort once more when your cheek is kissed
As Night Angel hovers o're her loved one
Though I must wait till night sends its moonbeams
I shall never leave you lost in your dreams
**********
Undeserving am I, for such mercy
A sinner and tormented vagabond
Cavorting with strumpets in Babylon
Rendering my soul hungry and thirsty
Yet nightly, through the mist you come tersely
Descending with your kindness from beyond
Blessed with your kiss my memories abscond
Overfilling my heart with love firstly
Night Angel, I have prayed for forgiveness
From the midst of my dreams, am again whole
By the magnificence of your meekness
My conscience is now bending from stiffness
The morning sun brings new light to my soul
Now no longer will ever go sleepless
Original Sonnets by Lin Lane and Daniel Turner "poemdog"
Categories:
stiffness, dream, emotions, feelings,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
This is presented in a series of three sonnets in a collaboration
between Daniel Turner and Lin Lane.
They are based on the original sonnet of Daniel's "Night Angel."
Thank you, Danny, for the inspiration and for allowing me to
give poetic voice to your Night Angel.
In deep slumber madness, she comforts me
Appearing, unencumbered, from the mist
Subconscious suspension our nightly tryst
Erasing my mind of bad memories
She mends and warms my soul so tenderly
Imbibing my thoughts and heart with her kiss
Lovingly fulfills a long ago wish
Thankfully restoring my sanity
Regularly she visits in silence
Enlightening my dreams with wholesomeness
Wiping my tears of angered betrayal
Exchanging her love for malevolence
I awaken with renewed happiness
Refreshed from the angelic portrayal
**********
Rest easy, dear one. Night Angel is here
To ease the worry from your furrowed brow
Kiss to the cheek, I lay upon you now
In your sweetest dream you will feel me near
Memories of your past no longer live
No need for tears to fall from pain or stress
Tender love I offer in my caress
Gift of my thoughts to you this night I give
Wake on the morrow, glad to greet the sun
Knowing night has me coming through the mist
To comfort once more when your cheek is kissed
As Night Angel hovers o're her loved one
Though I must wait till night sends its moonbeams
I shall never leave you lost in your dreams
**********
Undeserving am I, for such mercy
A sinner and tormented vagabond
Cavorting with strumpets in Babylon
Rendering my soul hungry and thirsty
Yet nightly, through the mist you come tersely
Descending with your kindness from beyond
Blessed with your kiss my memories abscond
Overfilling my heart with love firstly
Night Angel, I have prayed for forgiveness
From the midst of my dreams, am again whole
By the magnificence of your meekness
My conscience is now bending from stiffness
The morning sun brings new light to my soul
Now no longer will ever go sleepless
* * * * * * * * * *
February 22, 2016
Categories:
stiffness, angel, hope,
Form:
Sonnet
Hand Puppets
Hard, calloused and dirty, it pleaded with me.
It had no eyes, no face, no soul. Or so I thought,
or didn’t. Yellowed fingernails, dirt covered and
trembling faced upward as would a beggar’s
face. A sound, perhaps its voice, startled me. I
heard nothing but the plea from the open, soiled,
begging hand. It seemed to say: “please, sir, please,
I was once like you, one of you. I worked, as you can
tell by the sinewy strength now buried in despair’s dirt.
I touched – the cheeks of loved ones. I held – an infant,
a child, my child, and somehow lost my grip on all.
I have felt tears, my own tears, running through clenched
fingers yet not knowing whose tears they were or for whom
they were shed. I know cold, bone chilling, painful cold
and stiffness borne of pain, yet cannot, or will not,
reach for help and so I beg. Namelessly, facelessly,
but not shamelessly. For if I had eyes, I could not look
you in the face, nor could I smile or frown, or say thank you.
I am but a proffered hand in need, not of help but of
sustenance, not of kindness but of indifference, not of
awakening but of oblivion.”
I listened to the hand, looked not upon the face, and placed
a pittance against the enormity of the lifelines torment
and walked away. I looked at my hands and wondered
what story they told to those who took the time to look
at them, to listen to them. I covered my face with them,
and I too felt tears running through clenched fingers,
not knowing whose tears they were
or for whom they were shed.
John G. Lawless
2013
submitted to – Your best free verse poem –
sponsor – SKAT A
Categories:
stiffness, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
I look in the mirror and see my life
a young girl running and jumping
picking wildflowers for mother
helping daddy in his workshop
(well, on his bench anyways)
sitting on grandma's lap in the kitchen
listening to her tell stories while I pet my kitty
I watch her lips and expressions in awe
(in the end she did not know my name)
but she liked me a lot- I guess that is life
I see myself at the funerals of my sister, brother
father, mother, husband, baby and grandma
I just close my eyes and I am there again
my grandpa had left me long, long ago
life goes on and I grew to who I am
I became a writer grandma because of you
now, I feel an ache and stiffness in my bones
it is hard to hold a pen for very long
I am not very fast anymore
and often misplace things in odd places
cannot remember names and only the past in fragments
but life still goes on
I look in the mirror and wonder
who is that old lady looking back
because in my mind I am a young girl
_____________________
May 06, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/the mirror of my life
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1453-964-06
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, In The Mirror of Life
sponsor, Anoucheka Gangabissoon, Judged 05/13/2022
First Place
Categories:
stiffness, life,
Form:
Free verse
It all began in innocence:
A glass of wine, or was it three?
Euphoria and sweet release
That set this thing inside me free.
The very nectar of the gods
splashed forth, producing mirthful joy.
To loose the tongue, the stiffness too,
Give liquid courage to the boy.
And so it was, the hook was set,
yes, thus began the long descent.
Slow journeying from light to dark,
Insidious, malevolent.
The tale is one that’s sordid, long;
it does not happen overnight.
By steps, by turns, one finds oneself
unable to resist, to fight.
The years went by; the first were good,
except the excess: always there.
Then later, shocking none but self,
one’s lost capacity to care.
There was no God, or so I thought;
I scoffed at those who did believe.
In secret, doubt, anxiety,
And no way to obtain reprieve.
I had no outlet or escape,
So I would run for miles and miles,
And run and run and never stop,
except at stores with beverage aisles.
I had this hole that could be filled,
Or so I thought, with alcohol.
My go-to brand was Steel Reserve
‘cause it was strong and cheap and tall.
Twelve-pack a day for endless years,
Yet wondered why things weren’t alright.
The nightly stupor, morning tears,
And long since gone, that first delight.
You hate yourself; this is your lot.
You push away your friends, your wife.
That drain you circle: very close.
It’s what you got; this is your life.
And though you’ve kept a job somehow,
Your work declines; you’re pretty good,
Still doing more than most you know,
But far, far less than you once could.
Your kids, you can’t look in the face.
Pride chips away a notch each day.
They know what’s up; you’re a disgrace.
Time passes thus, just slips away…
And then one day… you hear a voice;
It’s coming from between your ears.
My conscience died long years ago.
The voice of God? That’s cause for fear…
“Your life’s a mess, now go get help!”
And so I did, outside of me.
From there, it seems the heavens part;
A sweet release, my eyes can see.
I often wonder why a God
Whom I despised would call on me,
But that’s a joy He loves to do:
To find the captive, set him free.
Categories:
stiffness, addiction,
Form:
Rhyme
How vast and pervasive is the Moon?
Hugeness hints there stand two
Orbs and a turbulent stream
Simply like the dawning sun
All over the half-moon horizon.
On the shore of credulity
The froth shed detritus and sea salt
Carving a path into level sand
Slicing the weft out of silk
By cutting across the fabric kernel
The waves were sealed on the scanty shore
The furor was in harmony with the dust
Pearl-like seaweed and scrubber.
Moonlight over the Sea at Dawn
It is ideal and so spectacularly tempting
The churning water bred white foam
I am enthusiastic to have the plunge
The tendons, sinews, and guts were all wary
A season invests these twilight hours
Fetch the ache and gentleness
Misleading magnetism
My inner mermaid is hopeless
The moon was merely out of the embrace.
It related me to a no-blue world
Spume was kicked by white ponies
As they did in our fourth year of dreams
Cantering toward the welling of time
In the utter stiffness at the two ends
Do not feel dire about shedding tears
The spectrum of the dull light
We never noticed.
Written: October 29, 2022
Categories:
stiffness, adventure, destiny, dream, moon,
Form:
Free verse
Freezing ...
in my bones
Purple fingers and toes
Twenty-eight finger bones X two
Twenty-eight toe bones X two
A large base with pain
Stiffness, can not be bent
Six hundred muscle cells
will not cooperate with the brain
Next minute;
Burning heat
Reading glasses ... fogging
Drops of sweat in the forehead
Red fingers and toes
The eyes sting
The letters doubles
Throat dry and sore
Cough that feels suffocating
Rib bones turned inside out
like an umbrella in storm
Feel ;
Trapped ... need oxygen
Parts of the motor nerve fiber
out of balance
The body feels ...
as a old donkey .
I have no patience .
to have the flu ... it's boring .
"Flue" mean fly on Norwegian .
A fly buzzing in the window frame .
.
.... let me out ...(!) . .
... it's spring . . . .
.
02.04.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Categories:
stiffness, cinderella, how i feel,
Form:
Narrative
I remember Grandma’s beauty
The way she’d grace her smile at me
I remember Grandma’s duty
Holding family together
I remember the old large home
A large yard with a cyclone fence
I remember no small kitties
Couldn’t afford the extra expense
I remember no TV set
To watch Dragnet or Lassie shows
I remember a radio
Latin Music she always chose
I remember the Impala
Cool 1950’s model rove
Crazy grandma behind the wheel
Had to close your eyes when she drove
I remember her kindness
Her home was your home to visit
Stacks of warm homemade tortillas,
Tamales, warm food in the skillet
I remember gradually
With small tremors, slurred speech, stiffness,
She had uncontrollable shakes
Parkinson’s disease her illness
I remember Grandma’s beauty
I remember Grandma’s kindness
I remember Grandma’s caress
I remember Grandma’s illness
Categories:
stiffness, car, food, grandmother, growing
Form:
Quatrain
A simple god so slender and symbolic
having a one way onslaught in his approach
and toiling with the master-class of the game
to revolutionize an entire country away from his.
He bastardized his inheritance of stiffness and a crunch system
To transmit the pleasure of a video game to a live coverage.
A believer of his approach, a missionary in his style,
legendary in his execution, but often blind to its short comings.
Going an entire season without a fault
and giving the possibility to travel cloud 49
makes his glory carry such schoolbag of mysteries and awe.
From the African prince of Monaco, to the great George Weah
and the Dennises, Thierrys, Vierras and Anelkas,
he converts a dusty wood into a luxurious boat.
Academy is his bedroom, ventilated by continuity
even though some megastars were short of understanding this.
Maintenance of a certain threshold even with half loaded guns
is very difficult to achieve and impossible to maintain
but not at all to this attacking minded General.
Spending a decade to shoot regions near the actual target
under the stuffiness of limitations both in finances and talents
shines the stadium light even in the darkness of his underachievement.
Prudence and a closed fist was his personality’s widget
b’cos glory on the pitch alone isn’t his mental gadget.
Placing a repercussion of a very stiff budget
and his command, downgraded so low to a midget.
All these because he’s carried the club like a personal object
placing the short sightedness of instant glories to an eject.
Stability in his empire is now a complete project
As his winning dominance was once a European subject.
He’s now back with an intimidation which will make opposition fidget.
Back to his rank, as he wears all the colours
rising in significance after all the hurdles
heart poured out to a club glorifies him beyond a mere coach,
the riches of such dedication influences the staff of his reputation,
winning and being a champion has always been his signature.
He has once again proven it,
as the world of sports stands still in ultimate salute.
Categories:
stiffness, identity, image, sports,
Form:
Ode
How do I pen a cliche’
so it isn’t the cliche’,
but the reality.
My skin has soft little wrinkles
that look like ripples on water.
Yesterday it didn’t.
When did I start needing naps,
that have now become mini comas.
Yesterday I was working until I got my second wind.
The mirror seems to feel the need to taunt me
with an image of someone I do not know.
Yesterday the image was 18.
When I forget and sit too long,
it takes the length of the room to work out the stiffness and pain.
Yesterday, I didn’t have time to sit.
I won’t think about this today
I’ll do it tomorrow
But, tomorrow was yesterday, and the year is gone.
I must have blinked while laughing in the face of spring,
a brief summer warmth on my eye lids as they go down,
and as they started up again, fall is turning to winter.
Categories:
stiffness, life, philosophy, seasons, image,
Form:
Bio