Best Throbbed Poems
A child of four suffers recurring dreams,
disturbing parents and siblings with screams.
When she awoke, always sore in one knee;
next to a birthmark, it throbbed painfully.
Night after night she feared going to bed.
What caused these nightmares that raged in her head?
Even when grown, the torment persisted,
so a therapist’s aid she enlisted.
“Hypnosis,” said he, “might offer some clues.
Why not try it? You’ve just bad dreams to lose.”
Once under, he guided her to a room --
here people’s lifetimes in books were entombed.
“Find one that is yours,” her counselor said.
Quickly she did, but before it was read,
she felt an ache, saw just a faint title.
The words, she thought, said “Alister Bridle.”
The hypnotic trance now suddenly broke;
puzzling questions “Mr. Bridle” evoked.
For many years she thought that was her name;
perhaps a past life had been filled with pain.
Who was this man? She simply had to know!
Seasons passed, summer suns made way for snow.
In Florida now, 1998,
she thought all the nightmares she had escaped.
But strange dreams always catch us by surprise --
when the lights grow dim, our minds fantasize.
Cloaked in velvet, she left her parents’ farm,
stealing away on a late autumn morn’.
To meet her love, she climbed on the carriage,
knowing her folks would forbid their marriage.
Warm-hued leaves carpeted the hillside road,
and her pulse beat fast; she’d soon join her beau.
She thought only of him; joy cast its smile,
but that’s when he called, “Alice, the bridle!”
The leather band broke and wrapped ‘round her knee.
To the ground she was pulled; her horse ran free.
She met death, but past-life dreams recycle,
and she’d never been “Alister Bridle.”
Categories:
throbbed, autumn, mystery,
Form:
Narrative
I miss the one who stole my heart
Before the waves pulled us apart
When craving throbbed in every vein
We sang in tune to love’s refrain.
I miss the sparkle in her eyes
The sensual timbre of her voice
The urge to share, to give and take
A tacit wish, a mutual choice.
I miss the moments when at night
We watched in awe, silent delight,
The sequined twinkling in the sky.
From time to time a kiss, a sigh.
I miss the man who made me yearn
To touch and yield, with passion burn.
He made each fibre thrill within
I lived and breathed only for him.
I miss the touches of his hand
The sense of home within his arms
Where feelings bloomed and love was sweet
His knowing smiles were graced with charms.
I miss the rhythm of his love
His kisses raining from above,
The breathless rapture of my soul
I miss the man who made me whole.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A Callman Collaboration
Paul Callus and Eileen Manassian
Categories:
throbbed, longing, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
My wild Irish heart - what could it do
that March when into my sweet girlhood blew
euphoria to make my heart careen?
Oh, heart as fresh as clover - kelly green -
when zephyr brought its scent of something new.
The breeze caressed me; all was made askew,
for what it had been carrying was you!
Beneath my tender breast there throbbed, unseen,
my wild Irish heart.
You bridled it and then you pierced it through.
Yet wilder than before and tough it grew.
For in your aftermath, I was to glean
the lessons that my youth had not foreseen -
and evermore would pulse in me - now blue -
my wild Irish heart!
Originally For Sandy Ivy's Go Green - what green means to you? (new or old poem)Poetry Contest and now for Linda's Get your GREEN on!!! (Get into the spirit and Go Green) Happy March17 (old/new poems)Poetry Contest
Categories:
throbbed, green, heart, love,
Form:
Rondeau
Her name was Anarkali,
an eloquent carnival of legendary beauty.
a dancer in the court of Emperor Akbar.
Deep russet rouge blushed her red,
a silky smile on her rosy peach cheeks
rich, sensual and seductive...
With the sweet scent of jasmine, and
festal moonlight of crystal starred sky,
the damsel danced her way to Salim's heart.
A charmed Prince reverberated in her dreams
in rhythm of a daisy swaying in his breeze.
Entranced in her emollient ecstasy
Captured in the cage of her beautiful eyes.
Love blossomed like a dazzling wildfire.
But a sinister callous world, was eager to kill.
Passion handcuffed by shackled royal ego,
Anarkali was sentenced to be entombed alive.
Behind a wall of stones and prison bars,
Blood still throbbed her myriad unseen scars.
As vibrant colors of a sunset blurred,
An enslaved moth danced to flames of death.
As chimes of Ghungroo* muffled in mutenes,
An enslaved soul emancipated in darkness.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anarkali in Urdu means Pomegranate blossoms
*Ghungroo is an ornament of bells worn as anklets by dancers.
The love story of Prince Salim ( Mughal Emperor Jahangir) and Anarkali is legendary.
Anarkali, also known as Nadira Begum, was a courtesan from Lahore in modern-day Pakistan. According to one of the stories, Anarkali had a relationship with the Crown Prince Jahangir and the Mughal Emperor Akbar had her enclosed in a wall where she died.
4th July 2019
Sponsor John Hamilton
Contest Name : Slave to love
Categories:
throbbed, dance, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
“It’s a terrible love
And I’m walking with spiders…
It’s a terrible love and I’m walking in
Its quiet company…”-Birdy
Three long claws enclosed around a lone beating heart
Stone talons gripping in happy malice, silently angry by its pulse it cannot feel…
The longer I stare into the hollow sockets seeing only ugliness,
The easier it becomes to break into pieces over the mere thought of you
I thought it was a dull beat- a throbbing, fading beat disappearing into the night…
Though your image, once so grainy, is becoming clearer and clearer in the fogs of my consciousness
I thought it was just a dull, callous beat…
But the more it throbs against the stone, the more the stone cracks
The more the demon cries in anguish…the more I fall
So deeply in love have I become,
I can barely breathe in this misty embrace
The suspense of your blows make my innards whimper…make my mind shiver
My tearful eyes cry for your assurance
My body changes through the peeks of your light
It is all a joke!
This is all pathetic, low, meaningless!
Surely these claws over this heart do not exist
Holding onto nothing but dead spiders who once weaved miracles
Dust and spider legs….spider eyes…they had seen so much…felt so much with their prickly appendages
Through a lovely peephole beyond the three stoned fingers…
I see the entire world where they must have crawled
A world holding you…
If only I could hold you too…
Something tells me I would never let go if I had the chance
Something tells me I would crush you
I would turn you into dust and spider legs…
And yes, as all demons enjoy, I would lose you
In the grip of the three stoned fingers
Unless…
You were that heart I thought I had seen…
The heart that continued to beat long after it was ripped out
The clenched heart that throbbed despite its crushing cage
The very heart that bled and bled for no body and all for the sake of love
Beating and beating, cracking those frigid fingers
Into dust…
And all of the fallen limbless creatures would gather round…
And they would tell me… “He lives yet still…”
Weaving in their webs the very bloods and salts you pumped
Within me…and beyond me
Dead spiders weave and weave and weave…
And unlike human hearts, their ideas never tire
Categories:
throbbed, analogy, creation, devotion, grief,
Form:
Free verse
I was set in my ways
Downed café au-laits
In a den of privacy.
Though pain from a jilt
Still throbbed to the hilt
A regrettable history.
With no delusions
Of future effusions
I cherished my liberty.
And tried to avoid
With every fibroid
That lost road to misery.
Yet a sneaky charmer
Found cracks in my armor
Ensnaring me unwary.
It was only a glance
A pure happen-stance
No intentionality.
But a sound like a crack
That I can’t take back
A fated futility.
Made me squeal out loud
When if from a cloud
A bolt of liking struck me.
With no more deterrent
This ardent current
Put glee in my fantasy.
At the speed of light
Our romance took flight
In ionic felicity.
Categories:
throbbed, lost love, love, me,
Form:
Rhyme
I miss the one who stole my heart
Before the waves pulled us apart
When craving throbbed in every vein
We sang in tune to love’s refrain.
I miss the sparkle in her eyes
The sensual timbre of her voice
The urge to share, to give and take
A tacit wish, a mutual choice.
I miss the moments when at night
We watched in awe, silent delight,
The sequined twinkling in the sky.
From time to time a kiss, a sigh.
I miss the man who made me yearn
To touch and yield, with passion burn.
He made each fibre thrill within
I lived and breathed only for him.
I miss the touches of his hand
The sense of home within his arms
Where feelings bloomed and love was sweet
His knowing smiles were graced with charms.
I miss the rhythm of his love
His kisses raining from above,
The breathless rapture of my soul
I miss the man who made me whole.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A Callman Collaboration
Paul Callus and Eileen Manassian
[Awarded POTW 22nd Jan 2023]
© January 2023
Categories:
throbbed, longing, love,
Form:
Rhyme
soft scent of spring blooms a rose
throbbed in thorns, a warm gaze close.
urge to hold and pluck your smile,
will I fall in love, who knows?
29th March 2020
Sponsor Jenish Somadas
Contest Name Let the Pens Flow - Jueju
Categories:
throbbed, beauty, love, love hurts,
Form:
Jueju
When I first met you
I was in awe
My heart was open and exposed
You seemed so special and unique
And you were everything I seek
We could communicate with our eyes
And our emotions could not disguise
I felt so safe and so complete
And my heart throbbed with every beat
We were connected on all levels
And in our devotion we would revel
But was it all a great illusion
Did I assume a wrong conclusion
Was it all wrong
Was it a huge lie
On misconceptions I relied
Why did you change
Or was that you
All that confusion
I went through
Sometimes love is not what it seems
And it beguiles us like dreams
Don’t let this enormous feeling scare you
Don’t let false promises despair you
When love arrives
It will not leave
And you will never be deceived
Categories:
throbbed, longing, love, love hurts,
Form:
Lyric
I.
In the year sixteen hundred and thirty-five
I was a fool young man known as Ludwig,
back from the wars and flush with new money,
spent it on fine whores and copious drink.
One pale lady led me out into the street
where her pimp stood in shinning moonlight,
he smiled at her, said,”How nice of you,
I was thinking of feasting tonight.”
Before I could even start to react
his fangs had sank deep into my neck,
she joined in too, this woman I had held,
I black out and don’t recall what came next.
When I came too I was in a dark cave
and cried out, thankful that I was alive,
yet when I tried to walk t in the sun
it seared and sizzled my ghost-pale hide.
I’d never believed the legends were true,
but I now had no breath or heart-beat,
and when the sun set, I went out for food,
no meal would satisfy my deep cravings.
I made it six days, or should I say nights,
before the hunger overcame my will,
stalked a poor post-rider in the countyside,
recall the screams that came from my first kill.
I felt something within crumble that day,
a hollow emptiness grew deep inside,
knowing that with every kill that I made
meant another piece of my soul had died.
Before long I fled my Bavaria,
the peoples were getting restless and mean,
traveled across Europe, moving often,
forced to ‘live’ by acts heinous and obscene.
It was in Scotland three long years later,
hiding in the highlands from an angry mob,
unable to come out for days on end,
the growing hunger, it painfully throbbed.
When turned a vampire loses their blood
which causes their bodies to shut down,
I was so hungry I was driven mad,
in my mania I drained dry a cow!
Then to my surprise I felt the hunger
fade away and leave me feeling all-right,
it was any blood that would slake my thirst,
I didn’t have to take any more lives!
You think this would improve my situation,
but in truth it hurt me all the more,
couldn’t help but ask why had I never
bothered to ask this question before?
All the lives I had brought to an end,
all the families I had let bereft,
gad I the wits to ask these questions then
not a one would’ve had to face death.
The truth of these failings hounded my heels,
there was to be no peace within me,
until one night in France I came upon
ancient stone walls of a monastery…
CONTINUES IN PART II
Categories:
throbbed, change, dark, evil, faith,
Form:
Epic
she came from the town of keokuk
for what she did, she charged a buck
or sometimes two;
everyone said she was an evil gal,
but she changed my luck,
that evil gal from keokuk!
in the most painful, miserable year of my life:
i saw her walking in the worst snow storm
iowa ever seen;
i helped her up the icy-steep hill
to her run-down trailer park;
after putting away her groceries scant
we talked till it was dark.
swings left it does - fate;
swings right it does - fate;
while fate and angels fight for space
while dancing on the head of a pin;
but does it go straight - fate?
can it?
i think not!
by august i knew her well;
by january i proposed;
in june i married lisa
she made a lovely bride;
just after i come home from the war
with a bayonett wound in my side.
then twenty years later a viper named fate
twisted and coiled and struck!
and she smiled at me before she died
and held my hand so tight...
i remember that night thru our tears;
it was so dark and awful a place!
the wound in my side throbbed again in great pain!
and i knew the war was no worse than this.
she left little billy and me late that night
i know for a far better place:
it's not at all like a trailer park;
and it's where angels WIN the dance with fate -
and lovely souls like lisa can sing amazing grace!
Categories:
throbbed, angel, death, eulogy, farewell,
Form:
Elegy
Heaviness painfully throbbed your beating heart,
as the world could not understand it
and could never see it.
With your slurred words
and tired, dilated eyes,
I smiled, knowing you were not from here,
watching you drenched in sweat,
dripping down from your neck
in the midst of this muggy
unforsaken place.
And as the last song of thunderous sounds from trumpets played
while golden horns slowly waved in and out of the dark,
screaming to a high climax then falling low
and lower as if it was a rhythm of a train in the rain,
slowing making its stop,
many along the walls stood whispering to others
while gazing back and forth in your direction
as those at their tables whispered amongst cigarette smoke,
using their empty glasses as ashtrays.
And miserably, you walked towards me across the room with courage, and I already knew, just like the others, life had already broken you.
And I waited on the other side with a smile until you arrived,
as you stumbled, drunkenly aroused— into my web.
Then your eyes followed my hips outside the front door.
We walked further away from the departing crowd.
And further away.
Then further away
into darkness,
then
you heard the sound of car doors mysteriously opening.
Footsteps crept closer, and you searched and strained your eyes to see what was waiting.
And when you saw them, you were suddenly
transfixed
You cautiously called my name to get an understanding.
And there was a sound of a closing door,
and I had vanished away.
Desperate scrambling sparked, with a quick touch of a blade to your neck.
Movements pushed and pulled against each other.
And a sound of fumbling,
finally ending with a loud screech—
silence.
Heavy footsteps quickly ran away, and time had stood still.
Then you limped back to your car with an empty wallet
and a frown of dried tears—
A fake phone number folded in your pocket.
You were drenched in the darkest of dark,
and I was in my element,
watching and waiting in my car for my share
of the money we earned.
JG Finch
Categories:
throbbed, abuse, christmas, conflict, death,
Form:
Lyric
What is that feelin'
Creepin' 'bout my heart,
I think its kind of blue
Breakin' me apart
Fallin' into pieces
How many a heart has,
Once throbbed with neon
And all that jazz
I'm feelin' kind of blue
Not deep enough to cry,
A solemn kind of blue
Don't need to wonder why
Revolving slowly into
This somber attitude,
Azure leanin' on green
A pale, indigo mood
Muffled sounds carry
The smoothest baritone,
Over a muted trumpet
And a sad, sad saxophone
It's nothin' strange to me
Been right here before,
... Turn up the music
Slowly, close the door.
Categories:
throbbed, blue, color, heart, heartbreak,
Form:
Rhyme
Written February 10, 2025
********************
Bereft of soft flesh,
That once throbbed within,
Tribute from heart
To departed soul.
Living together
For eighty years,
Snowflakes dissolve.
Sea silent,
Seagull speechless,
Seashells alone.
Roses and thorns,
Sand and beach,
Looks at palm.
Standing calm on salted sands beside
the tumult of tides,
Red remnants of care lie with hollow husks,
buffeted by breezes beneath darkened skies.
Blushed by sunset altar of love,
sea shell songs,
scent of Rosa rugosa,
stones smooth as lovers skin;
sweet love hearts oceanic sensual offerings.
Categories:
throbbed, appreciation, rose,
Form:
Free verse
The 60's
The look was penny loafers, bobby socks,
pleated skirts, button up shirts,
bell bottom pants and headbands
Flower children were also the era,
Stood for peace and love also political movement
Listen to the music of the Beatles, Monkeys, Rolling Stones plus many more.
My heart throbbed for John Lennon, so young and in love
In my private time I listen to Liberace on the radio
Danced the Twist, Jerk, Monkey, Mashed potato, and the Watusi
I love to dance at the school Sox Hop dances up on the bleachers
Swinging my long auburn hair to the waist, back and forth
My hips moved to the twist
While everyone else danced on the gym floor
Mom’s favorite hair style, the Beehive
Dad looks so good looking behind the wheel of his 1959 De Soto station wagon
A child’s joy jumping rope, hopscotch, jacks,
Rotating a Hula hoop around my waist
Playing marbles with the boys
My favorite, climbing trees but
It always came with a broken bone
Our 35th president was John F. Kennedy
I was sitting in a swing in the playground
When we all heard he had been fatally shot
I was only 12 then
Tears ran down my face when I heard
People weren’t being treated equal
He stood for Equal Rights
We lost great man was that day
Growing up in the 60s was fun, but also very sad
Contest Name: Decades The 60’s * 2nd Place
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Categories:
throbbed, dance, fashion, life, music,
Form:
Free verse