Best Tongue Poems
It's always those who reside in our hearts,
whose words, like lightning,
electrocute our soul,
and in each pain there is a lesson.
Her life was like a room without a view,
those 'rainy day' eyes,
could have formed a deep river,
but no ship sailed upon it,
to carry me to her
and I would have kissed away every tear.
Misplaced, I could feel her yearning,
for a home, she had never known,
confused and lost, but her silence,
left her trapped in burdensome meadows,
and I wonder if I could have shown her the way.
From the silent echoes of her tongue,
I could feel the malady of her spirit,
feel the lacerations piercing her heart.
If only my words could have soothed her,
but even they could not save her.
As the lights dimmed,
silent stars became the nature of my poetry,
I asked the moon why?
but clouds covered his expression.
Now my mind is a time machine
of her memories, her voice still haunts,
as I ponder if the thunder will persist,
because I'm too afraid to close my eyes.
Simple Musing
Silent One
4 October 2018
White wails of weeping willows
Winding in the blue breeze
Like lover hoping for heart’s hero
A lifeguard for the passionate sea
Failed relationships create creatures
Some salty some sour some sweet
You are the red rose with features
A thorny tongue meant to deceive
To appear hazel harder and tougher
Than is your true tender blue heart
Overcompensating for past lover
Satin smile hides your cherry scars
What tells you’re still a red romantic
Is the light behind your emerald eyes
The quiet way you purple panic
When bluff is called by the perfect guy
Fairytales may be only in books
And life isn’t always so grand
You are read in one look
By a man who understands
Thorny tongue’s kiss is sweet
Despite its first green reveal
Sour and mysteriously tricky
Until you found love the real deal
Tongue Study
Tongues
Steady it wags
needing to know
more, about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain.
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served, it has given
and taken, it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been bitten,
and it has been written,
the tongue can be tied, twisted
curt, sweet, sharp, wagging or
bragging.
It may be your
native tongue
or foreign, it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
"the cat may have it".
If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead, you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.
The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.
Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.
Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.
Be careful, mind your tongue
it is closest to your own ears
and will affect you first, rather
before the others hear.
Be not at the mercy of
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown.
Do not despise the
a foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual, do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
or those who can barely
master his own tongue.
In general, I have concluded
whether you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.
I will not justify my tongue
when I use its power for the wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust.
The real power is in
the righteousness
of the speaking tongue.
For those who live by
the sharp and swarded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer.
May also die
by the mighty tongue,
or by the holding of it.!
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
A three-toed tree troll
tried to trap a leaping leprechaun
with a black claw bear paw trap.
But he stubbed toe three in the trap in the tree,
Snip snap toe three was gone.
The two-toed tree troll
tried to trap a laughing leprechaun
with a black claw bear paw trap.
But soon he'd forget where the trap had been set,
Snip snap toe two was gone.
The one-toed tree troll
tried to trap a sleepy leprechaun
with a black claw bear paw trap.
“Go to bed,” he said, “while you still have your head,”
Snip snap now all are gone.
Submitted January 2020 for the "Twist My Tongue" contest sponsored by Nina Parmenter -- First Place
How easily the words roll off my tongue
when decisions become too hard to make.
Even then, I only admit them to myself.
Sometimes I get confused, indecisive,
and hesitate in moments filled with doubt.
If only I had more confidence in myself
I would trust my voice not to stutter,
and maybe my heart wouldn't flutter
when you come so near to me.
Sometimes I turn and walk away
instead of smiling when I feel you there.
Sometimes I wonder
if there could ever be a you and me..
If only I could get past being so shy
Maybe, just once, I could look you in the eye
instead of lowering my head and walking by.
Maybe my life wouldn't seem so bleak.
If only I had the courage to stop in the hall
and find something to talk about.
Am I weak? Sometimes, I am.
If only, maybe, sometimes, and I'll add 'what if,'
I admit I use them as lame excuses.
my thoughts are profuse, and cluttered
with the 'what ifs' I only dream about.
I believe my alibis are lies,
but what if I remove the mask I wear
to hide the things I'd rather not see?
Maybe then I'd be more content with life.
If only my pounding heart remained silent
long enough to rid me of this fear.
Maybe I'd find the courage to be free
so you could see the real me.
If only...
August 4, 2020
Contest by Silent One
If only, maybe, sometimes
I am frustrated and annoyed by his ticking,
or perhaps it should be labeled the 'tocking'
By the never-ending tongue wagging clicking
in the language better known as 'clocking'
Must Grandfather Time command my life?
He so rudely continues without a thought
that his hammer yammering rhythm of strife
mocks the beating pulse of my human heart
What a wonderful fantasy my life would be
if for one day I'd not hear his unrelenting beat
I'd be stress free if time would stand still for me
for without his gonging life would be so sweet
In solace of night, I seek sleep and close my eyes
in need of escape and retreat from earthly chore
but I cannot find a moment of tranquil paradise
for his insistent knelling peals out once more
Each quarter hour his mallet chimes out to me
but his clappers sing off key in monotonous song
Not a lyrical lullaby, but a torturous rhapsody
whose tireless verses antagonize me far too long
I'm tenacious to put an end to his wagging tongue
and shackle the swinging motion of his pendulum
Each hour of the day and night would go by unsung
Being silenced is the price paid by the meddlesome
Poetry won't hold her tongue
When desperate times
The little men they breed
Would counsel silence.
She bursts instead Athenalike
From out the wearied brain
Or grows painfully from every vein
Like ivy's tiny tendrils
Pulling monuments to ground
Inch by inch
To let in the light and rain
From which newer monuments may grow.
She cares not at all
For their inconvenience.
She shows herself so many ways:
As the boldly topless Priestess,
Snakes coiled about her outstretched arms
As the nun in golden sunlight
Falling through cathedral stone
This lady is a child
All innocence of face,
Ageless eyes
She knows all that remains of purity,
Every excess she calls her own.
She woos the soul with its own music;
Her skin of sunsets draws her devotees
Towards her embrace
Her sweetcool breath like snowind calling
She comes again unbidden
Whispering sweet nothings,
Bearing words to work
Creation Destruction Change
Upon her restless,
Gifted
Tongue.
It slays without drawing a drop of blood
In an instant, turns reputations to mud
Its eloquence sets the innocent free
A serpent's weapon, resides in you and me
Guardian of a treasure trove of words
Pink slashing plasma, mightier than swords
Tethers float & tickle like feathers
I'm aloft unaware of outside weathers
Evening enhanced by colloquial pleasures
Malleable & manipulated
Esoterica like yours specifically stipulated
"Tie me to your tongue" I sing
Oh I utter the strangest things!
Yet I must admit I'm fully focussed
Overjoyed at this conversational hocus pocus
Unusually laid back & vocally gushing
Rampant points of interest gain further pushing
Tantalise & give me traction
Obligated now to end-goal satisfaction
Nerve endings sever in hyperspace
"Great subject matter expert kept perfect pace!"
Unbiased reviews are fully flowing
Eloquence like yours has me all glowing
Come hither, Mister Delicious Sir.
Satiate my craving for saturating kisses.
Read these ready lips like romance fiction.
Practice your best parched desert depiction.
Slurp up this mist smorgasbord to savor
cherry chapstick and cinnamon disk's flavor.
Caress love's breath, pressed against companion lips.
Twist with saliva's textured slides and slips.
Play tongue tag like young ones chasing.
Stencil silent speech, each moment embracing.
Sip freely from the flowing fountain of Venus.
Spin to the rhythm of the heartbeat between us.
What I know...I think
This is what I think I know or what I know I think
Dust upon a windy sky will cause my eyes to blink
Roads that lead to nowhere find there’s nowhere else to go
This is what I know I think or what I think I know
Another thing I think I know or know I think...I think
Roses come in pink and white and often white and pink
Rivers in the summertime are often formed by snow
Just another thing I think or think I know...I know
One more thought I think I thought, a thought I know I think
Snowy rivers send the flowers something good to drink
Dusty pink the roses on a nowhere road they grow
This is what I know I think, not what I think I know
Tongue Twister Line: "One more thought I think I thought, a thought I know I think"
For the Tongue Twister Time Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose
When you're wanting to bet
On a racehorse, don't fret.
With this tip from the stable door.
Pair Wunwun with Tutu,
A double that's for you.
It's a wager you should not ignore
Wunwun won,one race,
And Tutu too, her chase.
That has left one bookie,quite sore.
1 1 is a racehorse. 2. 2 is 1. 2
1.1. 1 1 race 2. 2 1. 1. 2.
Wunwun is a racehorse. Tutu is one too
Wunwun won one race. Tutu won one too.
11 / 2 / 2016.
I was a city born and city bred young fellow,
whose shoes had mostly only touched concrete and tar.
Oh yes I had seen grass, but out on a footy ground
and my entertainment was drinking at a nightclub bar.
As a city bred young bloke I had never seen the stars
for blanket smog and neon lights had blocked them out.
I never knew what clean air was, nor really cared at all,
and rain was just a nuisance that I could do without.
I had no idea where food comes from - why should I?
I just hand across ten dollars, and bingo! In my hand,
is warm and crispy chicken with leaves I throw away,
and chocolate milk comes in a carton with a brand.
But I’m informed one morning, this is not the case.
Milk, like cheese and butter, and yoghurt too somehow,
comes to the city from the country, for us city folk.
And I didn’t quite believe - from the inside of a cow.
A cow! I’ve never seen a cow. What’s a cow look like?
That’s right! I admit I’d not seen a cow in all me life.
I barely knew the difference, between a cow and a pig,
until in a nightclub - that’s where I met me future wife.
Jean is a lovely girl; so pretty, and near rural to the core.
She knows every breed of cow that is written in the book.
Jean has milked them, immunised, dehorned them in a crush,
so she’s quite strong in the arm and can land a great left hook.
I’m talking of me own experience; me jaw is still quite sore.
The lesson that I learnt is to choose words more carefully.
I’m not sure if the listeners sed at what I had said,
or were pleased to see an enraged woman acting like a bully.
Since we had married in the city, and lived in a city flat,
me darling Jean for many months suggested time and time again,
we should go back to her hometown where Jean promised me,
that I will finally see a cow and Jean won’t have to explain.
Now I’ve seen Friesians, Jerseys, Guernsey’s, Ayrshire’s;
I’ve eyed Poddy Calves, yearling Heifers, Bulls and Steers.
I’ve become an expert on cows, and just what is required.
I know everything that’s needed about cows so it appears.
But when lecturing colleagues with Jean close by me side,
it became the catalytic weapon to cause a murderous scene,
for I proudly uttered loudly without consequential fears,
that I had never seen a cow until - I met my wife Jean.
My life started with adoption
then realizing had a stammer as well
struggle through school glad to leave
at fifteen still struggling to tell
First job was electrician so spark
but colour blindness put that off rail
then worked as storeman rest of career
in various places never going stale
Got married to Jean in mid-twenties
but she passed away in less than year
that night I fell on God's merciful grace
received Christ who became so dear
Then nine years later met Christine
got wed after nine months courtship
now last year celebrated silver wed
a blessed marriage such sweet fellowship
But the frozen tongue has remained
has gone up and down many a hill
it's likened to an iceberg at sea
people only see the tip as you will
Like the iceberg real trouble down below
all the damaged emotions lie at foot
getting over them still all frozen
needs real heat to melt way at root
So persevere on to loosen tongue
some progress is at winter season
writing poetry brings real calm
summers pushing ice onto easing
(I had written this concerning my stammer, hence my frozen tongue all through my life but thought it showed one idea of being frozen in time.
This was written a number of years ago but thought new friends may like to read it.)
All
your
Armies
All
your
fighters
All
your
gangs
and
All
your
soldier.
I
see
a
boy
standing,
all
alone
with
a
stone
soldiers
standing
with
guns
Armies
with
guns
as
well
facing
the
boy..
In
his
eyes,
i
see
the
sun,
in
his
smile,
i
see
the
moon.
And
i
wonder,
i
only
wonder.
Who
is
weak
and
who
is
strong.
Who
is
right
and
who
is
wrong.
And
wish,
i
only
wish
that
the
truth
has
a
TONGUE...