Best Unscrewed Poems
Song of a Warrior’s Bride
He counts on me for beauty:
His eyes blurred by bloody spurts of war,
Scarred by deadly blasts of bone
And tissue, his vision marred
By chunks of men that shook him down
Into the oozing mud of sorrow,
And unscrewed the sockets of his soul,
Blasting windows that once shone luminous,
Into dark pools of madness, mocking
The watch he had to keep that night.
He stopped his ears against
The final cries of men turned babes,
Moaning for mama or a medic,
Gasping for a hand upon their head,
As prayers and curses were sucked
From bodies by the piercing blows
Of guns, while rockets puked
Hellish flames that blotted
Out the stars, until darkness
Swelled into a symphony of pain,
And his heart choked with agonies
He could not stop to heal.
I have learned to fasten his gaze
With the soft gauze of understanding,
A fabric thrown across the room,
Rich with memories between us,
Like rose petals sweetening the air.
I can still delight his eyes and lure him
From the tangled jungle pits he digs
And show him patterns of new mercies,
That reveals the hidden weaver of our days,
The keeper of our steps upon this turf
Of life, turned gentler now.
I drape and wrap, twist and thread
My warless arms around him,
Still fingering the loom of prayer.
Murmuring vows over his embattled brow,
I draw him underneath our tent, pitched
In the heat of hard fought love.
My verse has been chosen as Poem of the Month at Sherborne Abbey!
The curious offerings of sacristans
Are given in obscure humility
The symbol of the cupping of the hands
Enshrines the essence of this mystery
The dawn unlocked; the turning of a key
The mystic world behind the little door
The mourning weepers, watching, silently
The quiet foot upon uneven floor
The layered shadowed centuries; the pass
Of long dead worshippers before the throne
Slow shifts of coloured pools of stains of glass
Soft drift of latticed light on pillar stone
The empty candle, thirsting for new oil
Unscrewed and filled, screwed up again and lit
The hidden corners, carved by masons’ toil
In which a wary flickered flame may flit
The covering, uncovering; each fold
Of linen and of altar cloth an art
Within the starch of white, on marble cold
The space to hold His living, beating heart
Here, understated wafers wait in line
For blessing, as an unblessed congregation
Here silver, water, light, and red wine shine
Anticipating sacred consecration
Here eye, and hand, and mind, seek symmetry
In objects placed, in psychic ebbs and flows
Seek that perfection only God can see
In right angle and scented mystic rose
When all are done and gone, her hands will shake
The fragments of His flesh on holy ground
Shed drops upon the earth its thirst to slake
Pour water through the light without a sound
When all are gone, all blessed with wine and bread
There, in the East, where better men have trod
She kneels and presses to the step her head
And, lost in awe, she speaks these words to God
I am that ancient soul you always knew
A part of you, from when time first began
The I am that I am, the that in you
That serves thee, as I will, while still I can
I come to you as Christian, Muslim, Jew
Agnostic, Gnostic, Druid, Angel, Man
The cupping of my hands I give to you
The curious offering of a sacristan
© Gail Foster 2016
Never have I ever
Told my mother-in-law she's fat
Okay, I probably have
I lied, so I'm sorry about that
I've never locked the refrigerator
When she comes to spend the night
Okay, you know I did
I even unscrewed the light
I've never said she's ugly
With that mole between her eyes
Okay, she is though
She needs to wear a desguise
I've never called her sasquatch
With hair all over the place
I got her a razor for Christmas
You should have seen her face
I've never put her in the paper
For something to cut the grass
I just said she's an old ugly goat
Who's always passing gas
I've never said I hate her
But you can read what I wrote above
I didn't mentioned hate one time
But you notice I didn't mention love
I sat on the toy store shelf, feeling all bottled-up and unwanted.
The kids prefer to play with video games, these days,
rather than being outdoors with me.
Then one day, this little girl grabbed me down from the shelf
and begged her Mommy to buy me.
She took me out to play as soon as we got home.
The spring day was so bright as I met the sun for the first time.
I could not contain the joy that I felt
as she unscrewed the lid and dipped the plastic wand
into the soapy liquid. She brought the wand to her lips
and gently blew out a line of iridescent bubbles.
I felt so free, floating through the air with my new friends.
Her giggles of delight were the sweetest sound.
She dances as we swirl around her. Pure imagination takes over
as she pretends to be a fish in a bubbly underwater world.
I will never forget the wonder that was in her eyes.
The wind caught each one of us, taking us on a new adventure.
She runs to try and catch me as I drift up and away from her.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
May 20th, 2014
My mother was spring cleaning
So I needed a reason to escape
I have got a devilish mind
and my cunning plan is taking shape.
The plug has fallen off the hoover
I've unscrewed the head from the sweeping brush
A little superglue on the furniture polish
and the button will not push .
Tomato ketchup on my white sock
I've trodden on a nail
Link that my acting
and my cunning plan can't fail
but mothers know when something is fishy
She gave me that look that doesn't need to speak
I lost use of my computer
and got grounded for a week.
My city has been abandoned
by royalty for vultures to defecate and Hyenas to spit on.
The large hole left is a huge hindrance to every emotional functionality
making inactivity a coveted blessing to this feeling
which was once an inner paradise
as vacuum is more glorified to this emptiness
handled by a devastating care-taker.
Misery spins in a jet speed round an orbit of madness
while disgrace powers this system with the energy of ruin.
Reconciliation’s manual is drafted in an impossible language
b’cos everything within and outside the shores of existence
are on their knees on my behalf, yet mercy has been squashed
on this rocky heart I arrogantly created.
My moves of happiness have been jacked up
with a pivot of depression as its wheels are unscrewed
by the cruel tools of sadness.
The buttons of our memory now over-punched,
making the heart drown in a gutter of regrets
and dragged to the blind border of melancholy.
A heavy rope is tied around my neck yet nobody sees.
My throat, in cautious contact with a sharp knife but nobody cares.
I face reject like a delicacy without seasoning from a Tongue
and dislocated by doom
like summer without daylight or spring without the rains.
I stand alone and afflicted by this mood so barren.
She has passed the message so clearly
but not without leaving an injured soul.
Covered with sand and barnacles too
A plastic bottle turning blue
found a treasure in my hand
I cleaned layers of sand
Inside a note hid
unscrewed the lid
out it slid
heart sank
blank
As the weather chooses its flavour for the hour,
Stubble-ended wood shaves itself on the layers of unseen ground.
Synthetic puke seeps through pores seeking to devour
Every tiny, curled hair floating in the murk around and around.
Pool party skies reside a millimeter higher than the tallest fingertip:
Leftovers infect this mass of last meals passed on.
A spindle of cloth runs out with time enough to graze my lip
And still no locks of winter-lived years could sink a single talon
Into the darkest dark of fleeting moments taken from a fork.
Shall this be all that has come from years after that first unscrewed cork?
That's right little ole lady it's here
once again, your birthday is back so
let your aches settle in. What to get you?,
something old or new?, you kissed my
cheek and said, "your love will do".
To get a gift, it's not just for you, when
the one watching you open it get's
excited too. So I started out for
something unique, and that's
what she got... to say the least
I went for a walk, and I wandered
about, I kicked this old liquor bottle
and a genie came out
As startled, shocked and as scared
as I was, this gift would be perfect
for the woman I love
So I scooped the genie and
the three wishes up, I ran all the
way home while shaking him up,
sitting the bottle on the kitchen
counter, I unscrewed the cap and
never smelt anything fouler
The bottle fell over and the
genie rolled out, he got back
to his feet when he then passed out.
So all I could do was laugh at the genie
Now pitiful and drunk, just needing
some sleepy
But now at this point there’s
nothing I can do, so I went
to mama and said,
"pick a hand... one or two”
The drunken genie man was the
hand she'd pick so I offered her
the hand with the half full bottle,
and told her to wash him down quick
with this foul smelling WHISKEY SOUR
Who are you?
You who are:
Half Baked
Half Crocked
and
Half Cracked
Unscrewed
Unzipped
and
Unleashed
Who are you?
You who are:
Baked
Crocked
and
Cracked
Screwed
Zipped
and
Leashed
Or are you?
You who are:
Just
Plain Old
Screwy
To
Me
"Mary Jane here is learning to read", replied Miss Ava sheepishly with a slight shade of pink in her cheeks; subtle, but it told all it needed to tell. After all, she too was a lonely widow nearing her forties. Father threw a look my way as though noticing my presence for the first time. Then he unscrewed his face and once again faced Miss Ava with raised eyebrows. With renewed confidence, Miss Ava persisted. "The Good Lord gave this child a mighty gift; she can talk in tongues. And I's here gonna make damn sure she knows it.." As she continued to ramble on, father stumbled out the room, and I noticed, with mild curiosity, he was becoming as skinny as I was. Maybe everyone was like me, and it just took them longer to get there.
Fireflies
Last night my son and I went out under the stars
And in our arms we carried mason jars
With holes cut in the top of the lids
We went out to act like little kids
Catching Lighting bugs in the air
Chasing them here and there
And if we were lucky to catch a few
The lid of the jar came unscrewed
We waited to see that blinking light
That seems to light up the entire night
Back and forth we covered the yard
Cause catching them was so very hard
Oh what a sight we must have been
To crazy kids walking around like hens
But who cares that the neighbors think
My mental capacity isn’t on the blink
It’s what my son wanted to do
And I was all but willing to carry it through
It was a fun night out and we had a blast
Catching Fireflies is a real gas
rural sewage, twister tunnel runs
like water damaged dust and rat
feces soaking the lawn down to
a dog in the ground a town over
rusted tin and pewter, twin-sized
coffin in the air with its upside down,
breathing shredded wings of angels,
neighbor's manure & wind blowing
songs to a heart-shaped music box,
crooked lattice peeling splintering
train whistle killing the night birds
dropping them like flies in summer
heat, dripping aeroplane trophies
chipped unscrewed vent whispering
into a hand-held radio, silverfish
in plastic bags hiding girl waiting
to be sought, disappearing in snow
covers in wedgwood stains & dead oak
branches of glass cracking beneath
white lace and clanking metal spoons
carved with the names of alabama
i remember this place, maroon sofa
off-white lead paint, night light on
hand-sewn pillows, empty orange lamp
casting over fields that stretch and
stretch for years im seven and filled
like a tapered glass of cranberry
juice she poured, she pours & pours
Physique in denial, irritating to bouncers
her numbers-to-flesh comparison on the radio is a smash hit
this ice, in a hot summer still slowly melts
making age-stunt her most engaging hobby
boys, half her age come to display lame tactics
her metabolism functions with slow engines
as the bolts of her aging are yet unscrewed
another reason for the planet to baffle, after Pharell Williams
“I’m thirty nine” the most of her answers after her name
envy suffocates her mates as they beg for her genes
faith in using the pressed oil from her skin
may be factual and never should be underrated
this adult in teenager’s skin
still feeds her organs with mama’s milk.
Unscrewed
She led me upstairs where I’d sample her wares
For a fee we had negotiated
She looked pretty stunning, my heart it was gunning
I longed for my lust to be sated
She sat on her bed and she patted her head
And that’s when she took off her wig
Still she looked glam with her head bald as spam
Though her forehead was really quite big
I wasn’t recoiling, my ardour was boiling
And this girl would not make me beg
The saucy young flirt then slipped off her skirt
I gasped when she whipped off a leg
It beggared belief when she took out her teeth
And then un-clipped her rubberised breast
She popped out an eye and she laid it to dry
With her ear in a purpose made rest
I got a bit spooked, it was like she’d been nuked
And I felt like I might come to harm
I know that’s outrageous, she wasn’t contagious
But then she unscrewed her left arm
I sped from the room like a witch on a broom
And I made a bee-line for the gate
Upstairs a sound made me swivel around
And I saw what was left of my date
Monocular glares from her window upstairs
She yelled, ‘There are more girls in town,’
‘But you haven’t had yet, what you came here to get.’
I said, ‘No problem, just chuck it down.’