Best Stilted Poems
Night stirred memories, once forgotten of the days
I burnt in love when you consumed my days,
and I carried you like a queen in the palanquin of my thoughts!
without forethought, to elbow out the marauding of memories,
I set out, travelling miles, my heart throbbing in my chest
my legs shaking and trembling, finally reaching your hermitage
casting away my stilted pride, expectant and anxious,
I waited at your doorstep to seize the moment
to renew a commitment and knocked hopefully at your door.
while listening intent for the approaching footsteps
and the sound of the key turning on the latch
did I see a face peering through the window, and quickly withdraw?
was it the face I longed to see?
time skipped quickly by, hours flitted
between limping dawns and staggering nights
how long had I waited there? Was it weeks, months, or years?
I knew roots had grown under my feet
and my body had vegetated into a tree
in Time’s eternal motion, the tree will remain there
as a trunk of fossilized dream till your love charges life into it!
Nov.24. 2022
~ Placed Second~
POEM OF THE DAY
Don’t Quit Your Daydream Poetry Contest
Sponsor -craig cornish
Dec.8.2022
2022, Marathon Mile.22. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Mark Toney
As I am growing older and life becoming lonelier,
The past beckons, and though I had almost tossed it out,
The idea of going back to my native land and my people
Now grows in me as an urgency with no trace of doubt.
I shall go, my soul flying faster than my supple limbs
To perch on my native land that I left long time ago
To see the changes, these intervening years have brought
And to revive the glorious past that in me still aglow
To listen again to the melodious tunes, half forgotten
To laugh and talk with my one- time bosom friends
To enjoy a life lighter and less demanding
Free of all finesse, rid of all stilted and crazy trends
I shall visit each of my lovesome former haunts
The parish church and my parents' forlorn graves
I shall go to the village school which I loved the best
That still resurrects in me memories, waves on waves
I shall go wandering through the country roads
Listen to birds' shrill calls, lovely and clear
Watch the smile rekindling old familiar faces
And enjoy the sweet rustic air, dust free and pure
I want to watch the Gulmohar in opulent bloom
Feel the scent of jasmines opening at night
Walk through the paddy fields stretching endless
Enjoy all the rural scenes that greatly delight
Climb the small hill where gooseberries grow
Wind down my way to my friends’ quarters
And travel farther to the river side with my pals
To have a dip in the river's cool and clear waters
Oh, I shall be away from the roaring crowd for ever
And relish the peace and quiet, free of all grinding chores
Cling to life's commonplace things and charms
Find my own footing there, never to be back to alien shores!
There was an elusive little guy often espied during World War Two,
And who he was and whence he came no one ever really knew!
He was a bald headed little feller with a very prominent nose,
And he always left the message "Kilroy Was Here" in very stilted prose!
You seldom saw his eyes and his hands were clinging to a wall.
Many G.I.s saw him in latrine stalls and in their greasy dining hall!
His origin and parting message are debated to this very day,
And no one has ever nabbed the graffiti artists who always slunk away!
He was portrayed in cruisers, battleships and even on submarines!
Kilroy's portrait was tattooed on the chests of a few diehard Marines!
'Tis said Hitler saw "Kilroy Was Here" and wondered what it meant,
Thinking it a secret code when found on American accouterment!
Kilroy became as famous as the mysterious smile on the Mona Lisa.
(I even saw his mug when I climbed to the top of the Tower of Pisa!)
Rosie the Riveter may have been guilty, if the truth were told,
Of tracing Kilroy's image on bombers, including the bomb bay hold!
Well, 'tis for sure we couldn't have won the war without the little guy!
Kilroy's antics lifted morale at home and overseas, that you can't deny!
But you haven't seen the last of him, for he is forever etched in history,
On the World War Two Monument in DC - how he got there is a mystery!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
For those a tad younger who may have never heard of Kilroy, go to your search
and type in "Kilroy Was Here" and click the Wikipedia notation and you will learn
more than you ever wanted to know about him!
My soul is lost
upon ice-blue crevasses so deeply!
help me my blue elephant
that lettuce is brave
like electrons always saying hello
and never goodbyes!
You slip on lice and break your arms
it's all so SCHIZOPHRENIC: tangentiality!
stilted speech and phonemic paraphasia
are mainly broken-minded poets
who use both sides of a pencil
-+95% of black eyes kill 5% of rabbits
and the bird whistles in Japaneses:
"sei shin bun retsu byo"
( mind split disease)
where logic and proportion falls
between the King & Queen
AND ALL ANGELS go to 7-Eleven
in their heavenly garments to buy
hot dogs and slur-pees
and writing is a socially acceptable
form of schizophrenia...hmm....
such is the paradox of delusion
and how are you? When you walk down
a sidewalk to the abuse of verbally
abusive birds chirping loudly how
dull and stupid you are. So you move into
a homeless shelter and make new friends!
:: 10242015 ::
Damn you, cursed covered bridge,
Damn your easy way,
Damn your timbers strong and high
That let her slip away!
Opposed by torrent moat she was
Compelled to wait and try.
But no! You let her ride across
And keep her corset dry!
Within her surrey black and sleek,
By dappled stallion drawn,
You let her pass without dispute;
Satanic stilted spawn!
We quarreled once or twice ‘tis true
But now she’s gone for good.
I’ve half a mind to strike a fire
And torch your rotting wood!
3rd Place
"Covered Bridge" Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
For the "Covered Bridge" Contest
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Life is like a nut,
Differs in shape, size, color or crust,
Life is like a nut.
For some, it’s like a coconut,
Beyond the reach, safe from gust
Very important, much privileged!
Whether unripen or matured.
For some it’s like a peanut,
Malleable, fit in budget
Widely spread, versatile no doubt
However, down and out.
For some it’s like a walnut,
You can see the eminence clear cut
Set comfortably in its dwell,
In a hard stilted shell.
For some it’s like a pine nut,
Gazes weird I tell you what
Shielded with strong beautiful woody cone,
Prevents you! to invade its zone.
For some it’s like a cashew nut,
Self-interested, pricy somewhat
Tightly attached with red pulpy drupe,
Be cautious! While shelling the fruit
For some it’s like a chestnut,
Down-to-earth, graceful but,
Surrounded with sharp spines called “Bur”
All adversities ought to conquer.
Life is like a nut,
Differs in shape, size, color or crust,
Life is like a nut.
In this arid plain of perennial drought,
as I stand transfixed with vexations rising in my spirit
and sadness lying mute as a stone,
I discern, I am alone with none to hold my hand
or share the burden that weighs me down.
Trudging through rugged paths
with my mournful shadow, tottering along,
the past sneers at me, breaking open
bottled up memories- of years spent in unbridled passion,
the smell of cigarettes, ganja and beer
wine and women, bet and gambling,
and the thrill of having won and lost
I used narcotic drugs many and they kept
gnawing into my psyche!
Once I walked with stilted gait
with friends and fans, amid laughter and haste
eager to please and to praise
Inebriated and effervescent were we
Fancied money could buy all we yearned
and turn this Earth-a virtual Paradise
But how swift was the twist of fate!
With no condiments, life suddenly turned bland.
The gorgeous castles I once built, burnt down to cinders
like dry leaves blown by the wind,
Friends, I thought never would desert,
flitted away one by one!
With dejection and despair warping me down
a rabid dog I strayed.
Grew irritable and vicious,
fled away from bond and bondage
spitting the saliva of my angst,I barked… barked at everyone;
“Where did vanish all the fabulous dreams
Whither gone life’s ritzy splendors?
But the wildfire burnt itself down,
now a passive stillness has settled in.
In this inert hush, as I grope,through murky corridors
with the sound of my footsteps falling like a thud,
a single query breaks out from within
‘Where shall I hide unseen
from this horrid loneliness staring me in the eyes?’
Heavily laden boats, rectangular sails billowing
Under seas of low cloud, braving the fierce Yangtze;
Held between snowcapped mountains, earth and sky
Indistinguishable from steaming mist and rolling fog;
A long drawn straggle of Grey Geese plummeting down
From breathless, rarefied air to stumble awkwardly onto
Plum coloured mudbanks; an unrestrained, excitable
Cacophony of frenzied honking! Then wild monkeys
Provoked into howling each side of the river.
There, at the juncture with Longjin Brook, stilted homes,
Half-hidden by bamboo groves, crouch at the waters
Edge; maidens will come to wash clothes
Whirling wooden batons, twittering like golden swallows;
Fragrant wildflowers enhance their sweetness.
At drab, pale, first-morning light, fishermen cast
Nets over the cooling, placid blue waters;
The fish that swim here are said to be the finest
In the province.
We will exchange Black Carp and Blunt-Snout Bream,
Wrapped in moist bamboo leaf, for glutinous rice
With the clans that tend the terraces inside the fertile
River valley...
Does not the Emperor insist upon good commerce?
If you are dissatisfied as a peasant
You can take the ancient "old tea horse road"
And burden your back with heavy bales stacked high
On a rail;
The road will take you all the way from Zigui
To Tibet...or even further perhaps,
And sombre ravens will soar overhead and taunt your
Every footstep.
But I will remain where I am, in the
Village On The Water
Nestled deep within the Three Gorges;
My life, the endless horizon stretched beyond,
Held in balance as if it were Shaseng
The Shadow Play Stone;
And each new morning awakening to slow,
Chiming bells.
Silently, he stood on the edge of a mirrored pool
For breakfast, he'd have to do a bit of wading
The egret's feathered image I wanted to capture
among wild cattails at this early morning hour.
He seemed to sense that I was watching him.
Stilted legs twitched, poised to take flight
but I was still as overhead, clouds hovered...
whiter yet, than this egret of the morning.
His regal head suddenly turned my way
but I dared not move, not to frighten him away.
His long, graceful neck turned from side to side,
as he tried to figure out if I was something to fear.
He took a stride towards me and then stopped.
A ripple on the pool caused him to change direction.
Breakfast was being served and so, he ate his fill.
I quickly sketched what I knew I'd have to paint.
GUESTS OF EMBERA DRUA
We are guests in this village on the Chagris River shore.
Tribe members of Embera Drua twist palms of Panama -
embrace us each, with this wreath of scented flora,
language barriers break down with food and dance.
In this jungle we’ve no need to be formal in dress,
the natives share achiote seeds to redden my lips and cheeks.
And fresh coconut chased down with sips of sugar cane,
plenteous Panamanian fruit, hot lunch served in banana leaves.
Before we position our eyes upon the treasured trades
we are invited to join them for some entertainment.
Our acquaintances in tribal wear, write lyrics upon
their dirt floor ballroom, with calloused feet.
Dressed in paloma skirt and cotton taparabo, men and women
invite tourists to dance with them, as drums pulse and flutes charm.
We will remember the stilted homes of our friends,
dogs lazing underneath the floor, abundance of fruit trees,
a school in development so students can remain with parents
instead of placing sandals upon feet and leaving their family home.
Our dugout canoe glides back to the shore of lily pads,
we swim with invigorated thoughts and gladness.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
I am enticed by the iambics felt
in tides between my heart, your tongue;
I know dark orchids hem your stilted voice
and yet your kiss unfolds me lip by lip.
Each line you've breathed has been exhumed before
by a more faithful heartbeat than your own.
Am I in love with practiced whispers pulled
from mouths of dead romantics, rhythm cursed?
with slow, stilted gait
neck bent and eyes fixed downward…
the smart phone zombie
18 Mar 2016
MY VALENTINE
In a stilted shanty
On a Gulf spring night--
There a ring lay shining
On a pillow white.
Jazz was in the moonlight,
Jasmine in the air,
Frozen was this moment--
Love beyond compare.
Empty are my arms now,
Years away are you.
How did lonely happen--
when one diverged in two?
January 20, 2013
Night stirred memories, once forgotten,
of the days I burnt in love
when you consumed my days and I carried you like a queen,
in the palanquin of my thoughts.
Without forethought, to elbow out
the marauding of thorny memories,
I set out, travelling miles, my heart throbbing in my chest,
my nimble legs shaking and trembling
and finally reaching your hermitage.
Casting away my stilted pride, expectant and anxious,
I waited at your doorstep to seize the moment
to renew a commitment and knocked hopefully at your door,
so far never opened before anyone.
While listening intent for the approaching foot steps
and the sound of the key turning on the latch,
did I see a face peering through the window,
and quickly withdraw?
Was it the face I longed to see?
Might not be or else, I would have been admitted in!
Time skipped quickly by, hours flitted
between limping dawns and staggering nights
Initially I knew the tedium of waiting
and the crushing weight of Time on me.
Soon I lost count of it….
Like an alien, how long had I waited there?
Was it weeks, months or years?
The wait must have been pretty long.
I knew roots had grown under my feet
and my body had vegetated into a tree,
but without leaves and fruits!
In Time’s eternal motion, the tree will remain there
as a trunk of fossilized hope, till your love charges life into it!
Above the palms I scan the ebon night
With crystal stars reflecting in the dark
The yellow moon is shining on the boat
A crocodile swims by without a sound
A cacophony of sound is stirred in the morn
A shaman greets us with a blessed hand
Three frontiers await us as we drift
In ageless waters of the deep
Pink dolphins leap as we move on
I see a capybara by the shore
The largest rodent in the world
The capuchins all beg for food
Piranhas swivel back and forth
Below the mammoth lily pads
Awaiting all the food that moves
Then pounced upon without delay
The thunderous rain has wet the forest land
Colombia, Brazil and now Peru
With stilted huts and cherub children there
Primordial, the Amazon and I
I'm filled with awe, a conqueror of life
primeval scenes in tense display
These memories will stay until I die
April 26,2015 Memorable Vacations
Shadow Hamilton