Best Sting Poems
The grass
alas
is shorn
like corn
the dew
eschews
forlorn
this morn
the crowd
avowed
the ball
and all
then groans
and moans
clubs thrown
are known.
Embued
and hued
the words
like swords
wrong swing
the sting
bad lie
too high
the squeeze
on knees
in pleas?
to seize
the gold
and hold
glory
story
though droll
their goal
control
cajole
that ball
to fall
or roll
in hole
August 22,2022
For Brian Strand's Premiere Choice Contest
FIRST PLACE TROPhy!
POEM OF THE WEEK!
It was not my intention to ever post in PS again
but through an open window I've caught a glimpse
and smell of what's been dumped into the soup.
No pleasure to poets will cruel deception bring
through mendacious words with a venomous sting
Clumsy are the fingers thrusting a poisoned dart
Villany flows from the arteries of a wicked heart
What keeps one hidden in fear behind a mask
lurking in shadows whilst imbibing from a flask
It's a path encrusted with derision and pretense
One a fool walks when guilt becomes immense
What price for a soul that's died too many deaths
or a life once more restored with sinister breaths
How many graves dug when loose threads unravel
Move on before the judge wields his mighty gavel
Only the naive and gullible would dare to believe
such repugnant lines written and meant to deceive
A weed in a garden, secreted among stalks of wheat
soon to wither and wilt. Such is the fate of a cheat
Vinegar in ink from a pen's nib has been interlaced
Woe to a deplorable life when it has been disgraced
Jagged, the rusted edge honed by a dour personality
In darkness looms the lonely; a hallmark of depravity
They start thick—
not the polite kind you stir into tea
not the mild drizzle on breakfast toast
but the kind that runs hot
slow
dangerous
coating your tongue before you grasp
the price of its pleasure.
They start golden—
dripping off the comb
sun pressed into their marrow
too rich, too syrupy—
gumming up the gears of your schemes
too luminous for hands that flinch from light
too wild for walls meant to contain them.
You want squeeze-bottle love.
Clean.
No bees.
No stingers.
No buzz.
But they ferment in kitchens
where no one thanks them—
same way their grandmothers did
spooning fire into each serving
stinging their own tongues
just to stay sharp—
drizzling down your better judgment staining
Sunday shirts
unraveling wedding vows
spilling past boundaries
no one asked them to obey.
They get called—
too much.
too loud.
too open.
too shut—
like they were born to fit into your grip
instead of slipping right through it.
You try to jar them.
Slap on barcodes:
Best before.
Handle with care.
Discount if damaged
for quick sale.
But wild honey won’t kneel—
it contradicts logic
defies preservation
reason
perfumes the air
wrecks your thirst for tradition.
You mistook raw for reckless
Reckless for ruin
Ruin for something to fear.
You laughed when they wept—
like grief was a spectacle
like tenderness was weak
like softness
was a defect to be filtered out.
But by the time you realize
she’s the rarest thing
you ever tasted—
she’s already sweetening
the hands that never swatted her
And now,
we sit here—
jars without lids,
spoons still sticky—
trying to remember
what it meant to taste something
that never begged to be caged.
Maybe—
the glass wasn’t meant to hold her.
Maybe—
it was meant to shatter—
to let something wild
and feral
flood in
and leave you
pleading
for ruin.
—it’s a reckoning,
unapologetic,
untamed,
final.
To the sound of pelting rain, she woke in early morning
Upon the tattered tin roof, it rhythmically pitter pattered
No sunlight peeked through clouds on daylight's dawning
She thought of him and of the dreams that were shattered,
of the nights she'd spend without end, remorse spawning
Windblown rain pummeled windows, on sills it splashed
Obscured was her view, vision blurred behind each pane
Howled as does a wolf, thunder growled, lightning flashed
In rivulets like rain, was weeping she struggled to restrain
Like drops of blood from a wound, her teardrops splashed
That night, in shadowed lamplight she espied on the corner,
a familiar silhouette of one whose countenance was a given
Dark eyes of a raven who had waived his right to scorn her
No vocal cawing was riven as torrents of rain were driven
He was beyond the reach of this sad beseeching mourner
Outside she ventured, into the sting of nettled showers
for just one glimpse of him, she would offer as her reason
On the street, scattered at her feet, her espousal flowers
Fallacy, was an act Charlotte Bronte' would label 'treason'
Uncloaked, soaked, she stood with her memories for hours
From grief she could not hide nor abide her mirrored face
His eyes, for once unveiled, yet not one word did he speak
A webbing of fine silk threads spun, woven in warm embrace
He had raised no hand in farewell. A tear grazed her cheek
Without solace she would linger in portals of empty space
She trembled, shivering, eyes teary, there was no mistaking
her sips from tainted cup had the caustic taste of bitter gall
The impeccant knight chose the right to claim his forsaking
Nimbus skies lay overcast without surcease of a graying pall
Fraught with aching, she sighed one word, "heartbreaking."
i knew a bee that could sing
it worked for a queen and king
but they preferred honey
and paid it no money
now it sings backup for sting.
You feel frightened, rejected by love;
while doubt drains all the hope from your heart.
And within this world of push and shove,
your dreams dissolve when trust falls apart.
You felt the pain of betrayal's sting
morph into anger, as tempers raged.
And you gave back his engagement ring,
refusing to keep your anger caged.
You always felt time would improve things,
not add to your emotional strain.
Yet, there's no escape on magic wings,
a broken heart; must deal with the pain.
You want the lies and pretense to end,
and yet his leaving still bothers you.
You feel all alone, without a friend,
but you're depressed, and know it isn't true.
Star dust;
red powder on your lips
in the creases lit
against the moon...
Shadows luminescent;
rose water breath
and a needle to sew
the Milky Way closed...
You step to edges of mountains
and check the pulse of black expanses
with star dust,
rose water,
ink eyes and padded fingers...
Red powder on your lips
and the wailing songs of eternity
running through your veins.
Old hillbilly Huck was no prude;
He picknicked outside in the nude.
But a bee left a sting
On his ding-a-ling-ling
And neighbours heard something quite rude!
23.05.19
Syllable count : 88668
Bawdy Limerick Contest - Let's Keep It Pg-13 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Brevity Poetry Contest No More Than Six Lines Poetry Contest- Caren Krutsinger
Born into tragic reckoning,
We understand that all the bliss we have is but a moment in Creation,
Elation and tragedy come to nothing beneath the last breath our body takes,
And death opens wide to swallow us into that great mystery.
Born into tragic reckoning,
We try and create a memory that lives beyond our countenance,
But that memory is hollow compared to the touch of loved ones,
We grow and live knowing that someday we will lose our parents and friends to that dark dominion,
And yet does death still sting as before?
Born into tragic reckoning,
A man lived in sorrow, hoping and reaching for a better tomorrow,
Born into poverty and oppression,
A man refused to accept the limitations of his age and grew to become like no manner of man that has ever existed.
Born into tragic reckoning, a man grabbed the hand of God and demanded life,
And when it was his time to die he embraced the abyss,
Three days later he rose from death’s clutches and said, “I am that I am.”
The great dream of tomorrow beyond the sting of loss is real and it is rather the sensation that things end which is mistaken.
For there was and is a man, who will ensure that tragedies are transformed into triumphant reconciliation.
For there was and is a man, who guarantees that even in the height of despair there really is no end and all mysteries give way to beginnings of blessing.
Oh Death, because of a man who was, who is, and who will be where is your sting?
Or sorrow where is your victory?
For death can rule no soul.
So into the great beyond, go with courage dear sister, go with courage.
bee sting
swells his nose
he's still snapping
Love is like a bee's sting
It's sting is the reminder
The bee is buxxing in my ear
It lands on my nose, I hear it saying "Be Careful". My eyes focus on its stinger.
I taste that its sweet honey is really poision.
Thats what love is, love tastes so sweet but it can be poisionous like a bee stinging you on the nose
A touch thats the first part of love. My first real boyfriend Josh can tell you, in NewYork, at school in an 8th grade c lassroom.
He could remind you of the first time we met
The bee flies off to the flower buzzing
"After all that time"
#Love, does the world reaaly need to know?
Bee, are you talking to me?
The fresh flowers died, but yet it still
stood straight into the ground
"Honey" is a name called for a certain special someone. Honey is also the product of a bee.
A couple on a bench are fighting, and soon one was off flying away.
Little Court, lost in her emotions
love is going to be a payback
The future is not going to be a place of love
it will be full of hatred
I'll have to forget all of the things I've already forgotten
J'taime
the stars make their own wishes
Love is worse than a bees sting
World, beware of the turmoil to come, don't be caught in your hiding
succumbing to erratic fear, oppress all shivers and face the vile assailant
with a defying glance, then bite him...be that hornet with a venomous sting
to end his brutality: he came to destabilize your land to achieve conquest!
Never comply, disregard a concept that spreads chaos and ignores justice,
come forward warriors and defeat with valor the blood-thirsty and the mad;
your fight is for an honorable cause: you're the hornets that are eager to bite,
and poison the enemy with your venom that's very painful when injected!
Don't wait until the threat becomes real, use your instincts and do prevail,
these godless and lawless men ferociously attack whoever despises them;
when we stir up their anger, they can be more vicious than hungry lions that maul:
they come forward and speak evil, their intent is to spread global mayhem!
I rather make peace than fight, revel in my freedom and shake hands with others:
If I must fight to preserve my liberties, I will indeed: I'll be a hornet fearless of bees!
Death where is thy sting, Oh grave where is thy victory?
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.
The Bible tells us this in the book of Psalms, Chapter 116, verse 15.
As a clear picture it paints.
Everyone looks at death in a different way
Some believe that death is an end to all existence, so they say.
Christians believe that death will bring them from one life on this sod.
To a life of Heavenly bliss with their Eternal God.
In other words to be absent from the body,
is to be present with the Lord God Almighty.
When someone dies, we should realize that they will only be absent for awhile.
Then remember our hope and be happy and smile.
For they have fought their battle already anyway
And no longer on this sinful earth do they have to stay.
Remember that Jesus conquered death at Easter time.
That He chose to die to save all of mankind.
But death didn't keep Him in the tomb you see.
He conquered it and rose the third day to set us free.
As in Adam all men shall die. even so in Christ shall all be made alive.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death and then we will all thrive!!!!!!!
*DEATH
Our eyes met across a crowded room
You blew me a kiss and it lifted the gloom
Strode over to me and asked me to dance
I held on tightly – wasn’t missing this chance
The attraction between us now is woken
Our eyes conversing the only words spoken
I pull you close your shapely bottom I'm clutching
Our lips so close though not yet touching.
My eyes fall upon your left hand
There was a telltale ring sign – I didn’t understand
How could you be acting like you were really ‘free’
I don’t want to hear my wife doesn’t understand me
There is no ring because I was betrayed
If she had been faithful I would have stayed
I won't deny it was painful but life is too short for regret
Truth I've been seeking and truth I've just met.
Well I’ve heard it a thousand times before
We’ll end up as lovers then you’ll walk out the door
I need a man that I can really trust
Not one whose eyes are simply filled with lust
It is not lust within my eyes you see
But an appreciation of all that could be
Feel our hearts beating chest to breast
Allow the truth from our hearts put your fears to rest.
There is a look of honesty in your big brown eyes
I find you so attractive that fact I can't disguise
So lets take things slowly it's a chance we cannot miss
Out lips lock together in a tender kiss
Happy to take things slowly, what need have we of haste
I feel I am in heaven with my arms around your waist
I swear I almost fainted when we sat down on the bench
You reveal your inner passion with our kisses turning French.
Just as passion is rising my mobile phone it rings
I pause so I can answer it and the news it brings
My husband he is on his way, oh damn I forgot about him
Better dash off my love and forget this night of sin.
Written by Jan Allison & Darren Watson
6th May 2014
I sulk in solace by the ember’s glow
of warming hearths that temper to the bone
then wait in earnest ‘til the thaw of snow
and all the piercing winter winds have blown.
I wait the breeze that lifts each feathered wing
of vernal robins beckoning the day,
and when their songs rejoice the birth of spring,
‘tis time to store my winter quilts away.
Though such a nuisance swarms within the wake
of winter’s gloom ascending into light,
and if a taste of me they must partake,
‘tis worth the gnawing pester of their bite.
When buzzing hordes awake to spring’s retreat
to fend their sting, dare not forget the DEET.
2-11-23