Best Twitching Poems


Premium Member Equinox

As the weather softly turns
Beckoning in the Equinox
Clusters of colourful bulbs
Dance and sway in the breeze
Eagles swoop up on thermals
Flying high until they are specks
Golden feathers gleaming amid
Heather glowing white on the hills
Indigo skies with puffy clouds
Jutting into various shapes
Kale drift by lazily snapping flies
Luscious grasses adorn the meadows
Mushrooms appear nestled under trees
Nightingales sweetly sing in Spring
Osprey dive deep for fish
Plunging in time and again
Quaint old fashioned flowers 
Radiant with rainbow colours
Spread rampant in the beds
Tulips dip and bow in greeting
Under the hosta's a dormouse lives
Velvet nose twitching the air
Watching out for birds of prey
Xanado bathed in sunshine highlights
Yellow buttercups which coat the ground as 
Zenith of Spring soon now will fade away.
Categories: twitching, spring,
Form: Abecedarian

Premium Member Thanksgiving Dinner Gone Awry

It was my first Thanksgiving dinner as his wife
so I wanted the meal to be perfect in every way
But...trembling in fear, I cut my finger with a knife
It was the beginning of a day in piteous disarray

I didn't know a turkey would take so long to thaw
and I couldn't defrost the fat bird in the microwave
Agitated, I was afraid I'd have to serve it half raw
so, I parboiled it a while. My predicament was grave

The cranberries were cooking and started to pop
Then I noticed my sore finger was bleeding once more
Blood fell into the sauce pan; more than just a drop
Gotta serve it anyway. No time to go back to the store

My mother-in-law, Mary Ann, had a smirk on her face
She looks like a wild rabbit, both have wrinkled noses
I bedecked the table in my cloth of embroidered lace
finger bleeding again from thorns, darn those roses!

It's a Murphy's Law day for me cuz I've developed a tic
Face is twitching, but the turkey's roasting in the oven
People bustling in my kitchen. It's a comedy of slapstick
Cousin Benny wants a taste of my cornbread stuffin'

STUFFIN'? NO NO! I hadn't given the dish a thought
Could I make it from potatoes? I've got piles of those
I needed a drink; my frazzled nerves were distraught
Then sozzled Uncle Frank started taking off his clothes

We filled our plates as hubby, Jake, carved the bird
I gasped when I saw a bag of something on the platter
Mary Ann shrieked in laughter and shouted, "My word!!"
I had no clue it was in there. I became the Mad Hatter.

To the kitchen I retreated to ready the apple crumble
A laxative added to Mary Ann's  to give her the poops
After dinner she dashed and crashed in a nasty tumble
I smiled with satisfaction and simply exclaimed, "OOPS."
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: twitching, humor,
Form: Rhyme

I am a girl

I am a girl,
Everyone sees it.

I graciously accept the label,
Twirling in a girls spool,
And playing it up for others.

Sometimes I feel an itch,
In a place I can't reach.
There are times when it quells,
When my voice cracks,
And I am somewhere else.

Where my hair is to my neck,
And my voice bellows.
But I am brought back to reality,
Because I am a girl.

He comes out again,
Stilling me when girls are asked to line up,
Twitching when a teacher asks for a 'strong boy',
I hold him back,
A slap on the wrist,
A prisoner in a cell.

But in the deepest of my thoughts,
I am free,
Completely and utterly.
He is with me,
Unchained,
But it ends every morning I wake.

I step out of the shower,
Hair cascading down,
As I stand in front of my reflective captor,
A deep rumbling comes from inside me,
And he bubbles up to the surface,
Itching and scraping at my soul.

I claw at the confines of my chest,
And he bursts out like dynamite,
Sparks flowing,
Tingles of electricity follow my nerves,
And I truly see him,
Staring back at me,
He smiles softly and my eyes open wide,
The words linger on the tip of my tongue,
But they stay rooted in my brain,
As him and I both realize,
I am a boy.
© Toby Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: twitching, boy, gender, girl, teenage,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Purpose or Obliteration

I dreamed I was inside a bulb—
a cathedral of filament and glass—
not dead
not born…..
but shumming**.

Glass walls curved like time
sealed but translucent

my fingers curled around voltage
like a secret
God was transcending.

The socket hummed a lullaby
of static.

Every breath of mine made sparks
the air electric
with grief
and longing.

I saw myself outside the bulb
in a room wallpapered with eyes—
each iris twitching
like a seismograph.

They watched
as I shimmered like an angel
in a jar of fire

as if I were proof
of something
too holy
or too hideous
to name.

The room beyond
glistened with wallpapered surveillance—
each gaze a blink
each blink
a test of identity
a hymn of entropy
and wonder.

I touched the glass—
cool as frozen memory
thin as a promise—

and the world on the other side
shuddered
like a dream woken
too soon

My thoughts turned tungsten—
spiraled
stubborn
resisting
the spark of enlightenment
or extinction

I spoke
and the words bent back
like boomerangs
buzzing
with static regret

A child approached
barefoot
real
impossibly tender…..

She looked like someone
I might have loved
if time had taken pity.

She placed her palm on the bulb—
her skin against my sorrow
the warmth of it
startling
as mercy
a forgiveness.

“Why are you in there?”
she asked
or perhaps
thought—
her voice the color
of candlelight.

I tried to answer
but my vocal cords was hardwired
my tongue
a fuse

My words came back
distorted
looped
charred

as if language
were combustible.

For a moment
I flickered
between purpose
and obliteration

Then
the ceiling cracked open
like a wound

and light poured down—
not to reveal
like revelation
like judgment—
to burn away
the questions

And I understood—
not everything illuminated
is meant to be seen

not all vision
is freedom…..

Some truths
are meant to flicker
fragile and holy
inside the bulb of the soul

unspoken
unchosen
alive.

================

**Shumming: Shimmering Humming
Categories: twitching, identity, imagination, introspection, philosophy,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member When Scorpio Goes Dark

Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote 
blue sphere, purling,

spinning helplessly 
through distant time and space;
slave to routine and rotation,
never daring to break free; 
to reach out.

Scorpius sprawls low 
across the Autumn void;
a celestial corpse 
twinkling, twitching; 
inexplicably still breathing, 
expelling the last 
of her precious plexine light 
in a final, desperate act

to awake inspiration, stir passion,
proffer wholeness and healing
to an infirmed, ungrateful planet,
for her end-of-reign recession.

Projecting dreams; visions 
like swirling Akashic holograms 
leaping forth from ancient pages 
of ethereal records,
all but lost to time and apathy.

Twisting snakelike through the cosmos,
her broody gaze steeling
in every direction; 
fierce energy bombarding; 
burning across the universe.

Intense joules bursting forth;
reaching out to nurture
willing universal souls;
scorching those who reject her,
turning them to table fodder 
at a divine banquet 
for dark gods.

Sagittarius flickers jovially behind
as if breathless with laughter;
taunting, frustrating,
staying just out of reach 
of her vengeful tail.

The rule of Scorpio wanes
upon Orion's horizontal breach
extinguishing the sting-ed cluster;
quelling her tumultuous surge
until late-spring pains 
rebirth her fires,

igniting them, emerging again
from the icy chasm 
of black oblivion.
Categories: twitching, space, stars,
Form: Free verse

Beauty In My Palm

You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-

You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.
Categories: twitching, devotion, fantasy, friendship, happiness,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member A Finding

A FINDING

A sudden moon
Splashes gold
On evening clouds
And brightly dusts obscurity

Revealing within
Things    people and places
Too profoundly hidden
To be forgotten

Call it findings
Those sticky stuffs of soul
Have lay alive and twitching
Through wandering years

Vividly clear happenings
Of childhood
Or (now musing) perhaps
Even another life

Such nocturnal painting
Challenges all meaning
And replaces
Current existence

      Like
The crisp night
Lights up! – 
A boy and his dog
On the green

Walking toward their home
In the village
On a most magnificent
Autumn day

Dave Austin
Categories: twitching, autumn,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Daily Dewdrops

Quote:  Every day is a page to write a new story.


DAILY DEWDROPS 

Freshly fallen snow,
no print left yet.
An empty box,
with no pretty bow.

I get down on my knees,
to write a prayer -
a wistful prayer of bittersweet.
My finger shivers in the breeze.

I cursively draw,
on this wall of white.
As snowflakes fall
from eyelashes, I bawl.

A white bunny’s hop halts,
little twitching eyes read my poetic plight.
Dripping from my index pen, a blizzard of tears -
erases all of my faults.

Tomorrow, I will start anew,
writing my escapades
on a pristine white carpet -
perhaps many words, perhaps a few.

And what might each day bring?
A quilting upon white cotton…
An epic on framed canvas…
My emoticons might vary, but dutifully I sing!

12/12/2016
Nayda’s Quote Response Contest
Categories: twitching, emotions, writing,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Slender Tail

The long, green tail twitching on the kitchen floor
Fills me with disgust, so I throw it outside.
I'm aware that my obligate carnivore
Has a secret that she disdains to confide.

The cat grabbed the lizard while crouched in the shade.
She enjoyed a meal of reptilian feast,
Yet she kept the tail, brought in to be displayed.
My sweet, cuddly cat, my predatory beast.
Categories: twitching, cat,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Elephant In the Room

3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison

High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies

Lemon yellow coated walls,
Flat,
Like their smiles

Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
Pacifiers included

The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.

Courtesy laughter in snob’s octave

Their heads twitching side to side,
Left to right to left

An equilibrium facing assault charges against self

They slow dance to cello dreams
And E minor dividends

Two-step monotone, sway
Against platinum lacquer foundations

…

But, it was then.

These same socialites,
Made of recycled candle wax
And rubberized, hedge-fund confidence,
Began to stare longingly at the party host’s 70 inch plasma TV

Proudly imported from China

“Attention uptight snobs of Mecca!
The city zoo has imploded!
The monkeys revolted!
The zebras were tired of being racially profiled!
Run for your LIV…!”
(SMASH!)

And before the reporter’s frightened inner child could finish’s his clause,
An elephant crashes into the decadent room
Filled with Crisp linen scents of Febreze & judgmental fear

It stares at the socialites,
Laughing heartedly as it playfully stomps away into constellation’s onyx night

As tears waterfall from the snobs’ sobbing eye sockets
As if they just listened to another Celine Dion song

The real newsflash

Metaphors played hooky today

©Drake J. Eszes
Categories: twitching, funny, humorous, life, metaphor,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member In Defense of the Guardian

While the guardian of night watches
a  looming thunderstorm , the power
of his animus defends earthy home
and a village’s turf with grit… and in
the stillness of a child or wife’s rest,
when twitching snaps of a labor’s chime
rings out, this protector aches for respect
and admiration to forge ahead into
gateways of Olympian struggles;
molded like so by creation’s decree.

Though labeled as a dominant ruler ,
it is his gentle side that comforts
all: lending a compassionate hand,
affirming a woman’s essence, and thirsting
to reveal human frailties without question.
Knowingly ,the peg behind the guardian of nights
is home's queen, fueling a determined  will
and affectionate spirit by validating his
man’s untiring role…without question.



7/8/2015
Patriarchy Contest
Sponsor: Thomas Martin
Categories: twitching, devotion, men,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member This Is Mine, All Mine

This is Mine, All Mine                                     by Chuck Keys

Fall day, perfect, 
Sunny brisk alive.
Filtered rays of sunlight. 
Shimmering through semi barren trees
Almost skeletal 
Scattered blown leaves
Patiently waiting their first winter freeze, 
So - very serene, calm, barely a sound,
A bird or two chirping
Sounding lost,
Looking about ready.

There, a small sparse bush
Proudly showing a tiny new green innocent bud, 
Nonchalantly waiting about. 
His chance to grow, 
Fading with shortened cooler days coming
  
On the trail, my dog, 
At my front, back and
                                      … side, 
Protectively jumping, sniffing, flying, yelping
Majestically prancing about and over,
Manly pawing his ground, 
Feeling heat from 
The October daytime warmed earth
Dried decaying broken leaves of time fading,

     In motion, 
     Wind behind his gate,
     Cantering soundlessly but hard, manly 
     Racing airborne paws; 
     Panting with passion, drooling in chase,
     Soaring gleefully effortlessly in-flight,
                                                                       ... off the ground 
                                                                       ... leaping high, higher, highest 
     Endlessly into the wilderness, 
     On his ground.  His movements
                                                           … echoing, uncontrolled.

     The tamed beast; driven as ever,  
     Head locked rigid aimed forward, high, tongue draped aside out
     Eyes opened squinting into the wind, starring affront
     Nose twitching alive on fire in hunt, 
     Tail erect, straight as an arrow on 
     Legs in sync with one another, together
     Body pulsing as one, muscles taught,
     On guard, with pride and ownership.
     He stops, panting eyes piercing, 
                                                          … side to side, front to back
    "This is mine, all mine" ... he says
                                                           ... he says to his daddy.
© Chuck Keys  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: twitching, happiness, nature, pets
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Slag Worn Centipedes

Ragged thoughts marching like stoned centipedes.
To the slag heap of the lost.
Intertwined with eternity's brine.
Waiting to reunite with meaning.

A lightning strike- mind o fire.
Insomnia rapes the dream.
Splay the centipedes across the page.
Like autumn leaves o'er vampire graves
or twitching feet in a gyrus maze.


The destiny of brilliant beams 
is the outback of the furthest ... reach...
Sadistic magicians pulling diamonds
back into centipedes.
Categories: twitching, autumn,
Form: Rhyme

Nervous Breakdown

Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
quick depression into slow anxiety.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
swallowing pity of yourself.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
cold heat shaking your bones.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
aching brain, twitching veins.
It's the nervous breakdown
with explosive results.
Why the nervous breakdown?
Because too much knowledge provokes me.
Bring the nervous breakdown,
sadistic, painful enticing.
Stop the nervous breakdown,
I cant find my purity.
Hopeless enemies
of ones self slipping
into my mind of cleanliness,
polluting my being, turning
it into an everlasting jungle of mazes
containing horrible truth of
my family, my friends, my country.
I want it back.

I want it back.
I want it back.
My original self,
my starting line,
my old life.
Why has the essence of family tainted
what is theirs to enhance?
My head hurts,
it bubbles with the 
honest to god reality
that is my creation.
Still the nervous breakdown,
here only minutes but already
it is acquainted with me.
Now I shall begin life anew
into an anxious depressed, shiny and new.
Old self being.
But if I'm finally used to my new attachment
then
why
does
my
head still hurt?
Categories: twitching, angst, confusion, sad, self,
Form:

You Need Hands - Limerick Contest

There is a young man called Alan Sprocket
Always has both hands in his pocket
Said it keeps him calm and warm
So why is he a twitching form
As though his fingers were in a socket



Penned 25April 2015
Categories: twitching, happy,
Form: Limerick
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