Best Torpid Poems
I still recall our first poetic glance,
dormant pen roused my fingers to dance.
Her love was like a cherry blossom tree,
which at first blossomed so beautifully.
When a tender breeze took each fragile bud,
we stood naked, vulnerable to the flood.
Broken branches fell, as love became silent,
our poems burned in fires, ever so violent.
Her absence formed a lawless state of mind,
vacant heart bled for memories left behind.
Some say sorrow washes away with rain,
but in heartbreak, torpid wounds leave a stain.
Love is a balance of peace and distress,
yet it's something two souls cannot suppress.
Simple Sonnet
Silent One
Example for what is love contest.
Categories:
torpid, love, love hurts,
Form:
Sonnet
Mirabelle orb ascends,
under clementine and pomegranate skies.
Absent,
in delight of daylight.
Eyes set adrift in dawning daydreams.
Calm heart is an oceanic concerto,
flowing along sapphire tones.
Deep breaths walk upon water,
caressed by Poseidon's piano keys.
Pulsating palpitations beat eloquent echoes,
rousing freely along rhythmical ripples.
Searching for symphonic serenity -
composition of waves, amicably,
pave a path towards destiny.
Hope vibrates like Apollos's lyre and lute strings,
as winds whistle lost tunes from Athena's flute.
Melodies of the silent sea summon torpid tides,
as desire merges in harmony with the harbour -
passionately embracing barren shores.
Aroma of dusk's dew cools in night's velvet sheen,
as sinking sun is submerged into the deep blue sea.
Sprinkling of pearls appear - their reflection
shimmering upon watery midnight blue stillness.
In silent clarity of blackness,
flowing footfalls of fate purify -
awakening mind from its reverie.
The Silent One
6 September 2020
Mirabelle - a plum, also known as mirabelle prune or cherry plum, is a cultivar group of plum trees of the genus Prunus. It is believed that the plum was cultivated from a wild fruit grown in Anatolia.
Poseidon, in ancient Greek religion, god of the sea (and of water generally), earthquakes, and horses.
Apollo has been recognized as a god of archery, music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases, the Sun and light, poetry, and more. His two musical instruments were the lute and the lyre.
Athena was a talented flute player, as she created it, but others ridiculed her when she played due to her cheeks. In disgust, she threw away the flute and said whoever picked it up and played it would be severely punished.
Categories:
torpid, assonance, destiny, dream, fate,
Form:
Free verse
A dead star that inspired this poem--the companion of the star 55 Cancri, in the constellation of Cancer the Crab--has now shrunk to only about twice the size of earth yet is extraordinarily massive, leading astronomers to conclude that its surface and outer crust consist entirely of diamond.
In slumber now and thence to dream
of space-time’s stirred and curving sweep,
where stellar furies set agleam
the velvet thrall of endless deep.
Here among a billion suns,
solo Klieg cued nascent spark.
Ensuing life o'er an eon runs
ere treading path of torpid dark.
Adorned in crystal, its bequest—
fusion’s fire did else abate—
bejeweled then, this orb compressed,
now fields of diamonds lie and wait.
Yet perish need to search the endless skies—
diamonds sparkle here in lovely eyes.
Categories:
torpid, star,
Form:
Sonnet
Like a creature hibernating in its burrow
Waiting to come out with the first verdure of spring,
The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart
Through the long winter awaiting another spring
After staying torpid inside for long,
At a time I expected it the least
Timidly came out the first word,
As shaky as a calf getting up for the first time.
Then another came and word after word in a row
Like pellets of rain on the window pane
I boiled them in the crucibles of my imagination
And finally dipping them in the ocean of my emotions
But rhyme came to set constraints
For the right alignment I struggled
I had to decide on its texture and format
Pondered if it should be a sonnet or an ode
I might have kept the door open for long
Alas! All my words and fancies flew away,
Like birds taking on wings into the sky
From a cage where they were imprisoned for long
I stood so helpless with my mouth shut,
Staring blankly out into the airy nothing
Like one lost in the doorway of his own threshold
Unable to call back those winged words lost in the void
________________________________________
~Placed Fifth~
Submitted for Marathon no.10. Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Mark Toney
~Placed First~
31. March .2022
A Brian Strand Standard
Poetry Contest
Categories:
torpid, analogy, betrayal, birth, growth,
Form:
Verse
Sheer lucid waves caress this oyster beach,
an aqua drowse viewed through a saffron lend,
and siren rip tides coax into a breach
as lambent grains of sand insouciant wend
the dunes of torpid eons through the bend
of hourglasses warped like new-blown glass.
In half-remembered mimes soft breezes send,
behind my eyelids as sweet lilts amass,
the plucking of a lyre string as high seagulls pass.
4/6/18
Categories:
torpid, beach, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
We’re monopolized by the Saran-wrapped food,
the plastic cutlery,
absorbed by the clutter of the food tray.
Numbed by hours of jiggling,
the carting of torpid bodies through interminable distance,
we’re wedged now into boredom, uncomfortably numb.
Anesthetized – we fear nothing.
If the aircraft stalls, few will scream.
We’ll keep decanting small bottles of vin de table,
butter buns.
As the aircraft plummets
and drops like a stone to certain death
we’ll still be struggling with condiment sachets,
coffee creamers, with small, molded cruets
oblivious now to anything less important.
Categories:
torpid, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
I've startled a frog, who leaps in flashes.
He and a grasshopper zig-zag away.
The lawn whispers mildly, in tune with the sun,
Yet something's amiss--the air is unsettled.
Squirrels and I stash away seeds,
salvaged from spent, rain-ravaged beds.
Bees are now torpid and cling to the mums.
Bedraggled zinnias give up the ghost.
What becomes of the Grim Reaper's harvest,
of creatures who cannot withstand the strain?
The mystery hides in an infinite point--
the one in the center of The Great Hub--
the crux of a myriad transformations.
Categories:
torpid, autumn, garden, mystery, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Two Words
Dream
Scheme
Beam
Team
Shout
Pout
Duel
Shot
Life
Death
Brain
Drain
Stupid
Cupid
Dumb
Numb
Rum
Thumb
Prosecute
Electrocute
Einstein
Infinity
Immigrant
Us
Atom
Bomb
Strength
Weakness
Love
Hurt
Fate
Destiny
God
Cosmos
Lucifer
Lost
Passion
Torpid
Feelings
Flatline
Politician
Huckster
Glorious
Despicable
Moon
Mars
Space
Race
Beguile
Style
Truth
Lie
Cake
Pie
Bicycle
Tricycle
Car
Jar
Balloon
Burst
First
Last
Lust
Like
Fist
Fight
Right
Write
Left
Deft
Genius
Idiot
Manners
Rude
Give
Take
Rate
Deflate
Washington
Jefferson
Hamilton
Burr
Trump
Nixon
Hitler
Wotan
Karloff
Lugosi
Frankenstein
Dracula
Foot
Fall
Think
Blink
Popcorn
Unicorn
Coffin
Fly
Fish
Fry
Good
Bad
Think
Drink
Smile
Scowl
Teeth
Towel
Grimace
Ace
Lash
Bash
Date
Hate
Hurry
Wait
Freeze
Animate
Brave
Wave
Holocaust
Heydrich
Fool
Drool
Slob
Blob
Dead
Undead
Alive
Thrive
Evolution
Revolution
Vampire
Umpire
Wire
Dire
Flour
Flower
Alien
Robot
Klaatu
Gort
Tower
Power
Rush
Hour
Talk
Walk
Hysterical
Empirical
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
July 8, 2018 (Short-Form Free Verse)
Categories:
torpid, assonance, history, imagery, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Love Revisited
He welcomed the somber silence,
and cursed the torpid time that had passed
since his last visit.
Invasive weeds had overrun the place:
Colorful weeds ‘tis true
strange purples, yellows and rusty reds,
scattered here and there
embellishing the lonely place.
He sat on a stone and stared into a void.
Memories rushed into being:
memories long pushed back,
where murky banks held telltale thoughts
he always wished to repress.
How beautiful she was so long ago!
Could he forget that beauty after so many years?
It was not important. He loved her still.
A feeble bunch of forget-me-nots
Would mark the place he saw her last.
Were they enough to convince her soul
that he loved her still? No matter.
She deserved more that a small poesy
of low cost frivolous flowers,
bought on the spur of the moment
as if their offer would alone
atone for his disloyal past.
Is it not strange that after all these years.
he had come to pay his respects?
To remember the good and the bad?
The happiness and the sadness?
The dreams and hopes
and the disappointments
they shared together.
Yet together they made it,
They survived until some years ago
A heart block killed her.
Now she lived in a better place
And he could do nothing but sit alone grieving
and thinking fondly of her.
All around was silence
Except for the dirge of the cicadas song.
In his yearning, he discerned:
sometimes love is not enough.
Categories:
torpid, love,
Form:
Free verse
Sheer boredom has me at this torpid end
Another rerun; please give me a break
The short list of scripts to which they pretend
I simply just can’t find one flying fake
Perhaps I’ll jump up on this tabletop
Do my best impression of Bill Shakespeare
It may resuscitate this boring flop
Nah, not now, my blushing bride is still here.
It doesn’t tire you out, this rehashed chatter?
To blab straight past glazed eyes, what could it bring?
Please wake me if you say something that matters
Until then, I’ll just twirl my wedding ring
It’s manna from heaven, my pager screams!
My wife winks, it’s time to go home and dream
7/8/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Categories:
torpid, social,
Form:
Sonnet
Encumbered soft with sorrow’s ghost
Alone among the torpid souls
A shadow grows at evening’s host
Your name dims gently with the sun
With every dusk, my heart undone
Old conversations – sacred scrolls
The night unfolds, our love rerun
Sweet sanity returns - almost
ABACCBCA
Categories:
torpid, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
Bubbles out the cloudy bong,
torpid girl, sings happy song,
Drug addiction, fells the fair,
flays the soul, with flaxen hair
Fiery liquid, bubbles on,
spoon’s dreams, blossom on
Absent friends, no help to find,
all now busy, with daily grind
In the night, when rain swift falls,
a friendly angel, stops and calls
Her darling hand and blossomed hair,
searches father in despair
Alas his searching comes too late,
and angels guided to her fate.
Rests the blossoms on her grave,
mischievous, rain bubbles, blithely wave
And here’s a life that spoke no ill;
needle’s death, so cruelly kill.
Written 30/03/2015 for "Blossoms and Bubbles" contest.
Categories:
torpid, death, drug,
Form:
Couplet
~ Sailboat,
in
~~~ calm
weather
~~ you are wasted
but if the winds gust
and howl you are hastened.
~ So I too, through adversity,
~~ am as you are indeed.
For turbulence
pulls taut the slackened lines of apathy,
it fills torpid sails with purpose,
and impels me to proceed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Categories:
torpid, change, sea, wind,
Form:
Shape
fall sheds its first leaves
fine trees are becoming bare -
golden coloured path
chilly rain smells near
no resting place for nature -
all bears hibernate
fireflies lie torpid
underground or thick tree barks -
warm spring will wake all
Categories:
torpid, autumn, nature, spring,
Form:
Haiku
Night of Dread
“Halloween” night – “descending” “gloom” –
Lost in a forest of “living” “silhouettes”
Tangled branches obscure the skies
In veils of opaque ebony blackness
As phantoms of thick “dread”
Rise
From “open” crypts of “darkness”
Where “walking” echoes chant elegies of doom
And set a pounding heartbeat’s panic
As “creepy” creeping ghostly fingers
Graze the naked neck
To claw at crushed leaves
That snap like brittle bones
Under panicked feet
Looking –
Frantic searching -
For escape from this twisted labyrinth
Of screaming angst,
Where prowling wraiths with cold lips of frenzy
And souls lost to the daylight
Breathe from exile, musty breaths
In fogs on vanishing paths of vertigo
And torpid lethargy
Until ascendent midnight
Lifts up this vale of fainting frights with moonlight,
Shadows glinting through bare boughs,
For All Hallows Night.
10-25-22
Contest: Halloween 14-30 Lines - 27 Lines
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Use ten words as written: creepy, descending, silhouettes, gloom, darkness, living, open, walking, Halloween, dread.
Chosen words italicized.
Categories:
torpid, halloween,
Form:
Free verse