Best Warped Poems
WARPED AND TWISTED
HARSH WORDS, VIOLENT BLOWS
HIDDEN SECRECTS THAT NO ONE KNOWS
EYES ARE OPEN, HANDS ARE FISTED
DEEP INSIDE I’M WARPED
I AM TWISTED
SO MANY TRICKS, SO MANY LIES
TOO MANY WHENS, TOO MANY WHYS
NOBODY IS SPECIAL, NOBODY IS GIFTED
JUST WARPED AND TWISTED
SLEEPING WHILE AWAKE
CHOKING ON MY DREAMS
LISTENING LOUDLY TO
A SILENT SCREAM
CALL ON MY MIND
THE NUMBER IS UNLISTED
LOST IN SOMEONE SO
WARPED, SO TWISTED
DOWN ON MY KNEES
ALIVE BUT DEAD
LOOK AT THE INVISIBLE BLOOD
I HAVE SHED
I’M NOT DEAD
MY MIND JUST HAS DRIFTED
DO NOT EXPECT TOO MUCH
TOO MUCH FROM ME
FOR I AM WARPED AND TWISTED
BURNT OUT, WASTED
TODAY, IS YESTERDAY’S TOMORROW
THE SUN DIED OUT, THE ASHES SIFTED
YET I AM STILL HERE
WARPED AND TWISTED
(c)GDC2014
All the time I was descending into that deep, dense cavern of a hole
Between my shoulders an uneasy crick appeared and seemed to slip into my soul.
Overhead, jagged, stalactites hung, daring any to allow this cave to be explored
Mystic webs floated within the shadows, trailing over rocks marked and scored.
Illusions I discovered, some buried, some cast by an evil mind, ate at my very soul
Numbing fear suddenly binds me and I am falling ever faster and deeper into the hole.
At the last minute I stop, hearing, angry sounds and howls in the shadows cast
Then I see a creature grotesque and ancient; a nightmare ripped from my past.
In the mists, the cloying stench of the mutilated destruction claws at my nose
Opting my brain to scream,'run', but too late the creature has come in close.
Nightmares everywhere fade, reality winks in and slowly I become aware
So maybe, I'll buy, just one more ticket, 'Abominations', is a really cool scare!
The jug spilt water, wetting the table
Now bent, twisted, buckled and warped skew-whiff
By flaw to twist coiled within the fibers
when timber dried, planed, sanded and dressed smooth.
How cruel for the carpenter who toiled
to make the table top lined-up and square
For the owner of the table so proud.
For the child who toppled the jug over.
Fatal flaw hidden within the fibers
coiled, primed and wound, waiting to be unleashed
By an event bound to happen one day.
For nothing here is insusceptible,
in a world ruled by entropy’s decay,
where order is a high energy state
and disorder is equilibrium.
---------------
23 June 2017
Harsh words and
violent blows,
Hidden secrets
nobody knows,
Eyes are open, hands
are fisted,
Deep inside I'm
warped and twisted,
So many tricks and
so many lies,
Too many whens and
too many whys,
Nobody's special,
nobody's gifted,
I'm just me, warped
and twisted,
Sleeping awake and
choking on a dream,
Listening loudly to
a silent scream,
Call on my mind, the
numbers unlisted,
Lost in someone so
warped and twisted,
On my knees, alive
but dead,
Look at the
invisible blood,
I've bled,
I'm not dead, my
mind has drifted,
Don't expect much,
I'm warped and
twisted,
Burnt out, wasted,
empty, and hollow,
Today's just
yesterdays tomorrow,
The sun died out,
the ashes sifted,
I'm still here,
warped and twisted,
The hues of affliction caught my glimpse
Maddening horror scratching my doorstep
Clashing with severe torture,
Scorching away my destiny...my confidence
Hallucinations take hold
Risk shoved in a deserted briefcase
Pluck the rose pedals that reveal your wasteful woe
Now your woe is crystal clear in your outspoken instructions you very much lack
Magnify the dazzling sensation,
Drugging my suicidal life and its troubles
Sparkling risk managing to parachute a confident endeavor from each angle
Crawling on poverty road...managing to warp-up easing moments
Unsteady in your rambling presence
You are an incredible luck to my immortal life
Too unbearable to strike down...hunted on the spot
Magnify the dazzling sensation,
Drugging my suicidal life and its troubles
Trails of avarice, wonder my mind far from thee
I'd diminish all the doubts...clumps of shapeless clay
Save the case and listen to what I have to say
Keep me away from worrying mad
Digest the emptiness I feel deep inside
Leaving a trail of blasted fears
A mixture of fondness and softness
Plants on your brushed, blemished whisper,
The atmosphere fairly uneasy to take hold of
You borrowed from me and stole from my mummified heart
All I seek now is gloom and doom
Resume with your lightening life
Isolate yourself from hardened fear
Death stares grow unsteady in your figure
It was as if they never existed in your warm, swirling heart
I plead you'll never set foot on this road again
I'll some day figure out the unpredictable code
Be courteous, though your abilities are weak
Lay in dark affliction,
You warped-up poverty road
Walk in secure recovery
After I determine this code
Hold on for dear life
Lay on my palm, if it would help
Walk in secure recovery
I never thought that your endeavor
to control my mind with all of your anger
could warp it forever.
How do you see that it is fair
to live a life in fear?
Even if I might know I'm
quite safe. I wouldn't dare
open up my gate.
My garden of pain
I try to play it safe
Prepared, I stay
Because I never know if something will flare.
I might let someone set their foot in
and take a peek even
But I'm too afraid to say them
"You want to stay?"
"This isn't Eden"
This where you were angry
hen your aim became lazy
This is where you called me crazy
This ugly garden of weeds
is why I'm forced to okay with lonely
But some roots set too deep
and when I sleep they give me pain
Because you absorbed all of my rain
Nothing could grow
it was too dry
Everything went down in flames
and my garden was deadened
Though my pain slowly fades away,
I'm reluctant
It's still ugly.
And if someone were to peek in
what should I say?
"You want to stay?"
It's so dry, so dead
I'd hate for them to catch flame
Because this is where you got angry
and gave me pain so deeply
This is how my mind is warped.
This is why my gate stays shut.
Harsh words,
And violent blows,
Hidden secrets nobody Knows,
Eyes are open,
Hands are fisted.
Deep inside I'm Warped And Twisted.
So many tricks,
And so many lies.
Too many whens,
And too many whys.
Nobody's special,
Nobody's gifted.
I'm just me,
Warped and Twisted.
Sleeping awake
And choking on a dream,
Listening loudly to a silent Scream.
Call my mind,
The number's unlisted.
Lost in someone,
I'm so,
Warped and Twisted.
On my knees,
alive but Dead.
Look at the invisible blood I've bled
I'm not gone,
My mind has drifted.
Don't expect much,
I'm Warped and Twisted
Burnt out,
Wasted,
Empty,
And hollow.
Today's just yesterday's Tomorrow's.
The sun died out,
The ashes sifted
I'm still here,
Warped and Twisted...
BY: SHANTAE PAPPACOSTAS ORTEGA-ZELE (1-30-20)
The six strings on the wall
Don’t mean a thing anymore
The poster behind them
Doesn’t remind me of Strawberry Fields anymore
(or childhood car rides back from grandma’s)
I know longer plug in my father’s old record player
(Just to hear Fat City)
But still every time I hear a melody without lyrics
I make them up
And they are always about you
Or a girl like you,
Names don’t matter
It’s the thought
that I will never change.
It’s all because of you
You’ve always liked my eyes
But you’ve never tried to read them
You’ve always laughed
And I guess I look away
Maybe it’s my fault,
I just don’t want to stare.
The neck is twisted
But it has been that way for as long as I have had it
My mother left it in the garage
And let it find its own shape.
But if I had a choice,
I would have a straight neck.
I would have new nylon strings.
I would be at my full potential.
Each string,
Harsh when plucked,
Doesn’t mean a thing to me anymore,
And my Michael Omartian record may as well
Be warped too.
Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
And there she broke her water
She laid down
Upon the ground
And bore them both a daughter
Look into the mirror
What do you see
A false suit of armor
That doesn’t let you free
Of its heaviness
The false part of you,
The part that brings unhappiness
Makes you want to do
Things others wouldn’t approve
Because what you see in front
Is not you, and you can prove
This is true, if you show your mind’s haunt
The person in the mirror is not me
The person I’m inside in not reflected in reality
Written on February 17, 2020
Racism makes me want to puke.
I’ll hurl a brick or two.
I’ll loot a store to make my point.
Who’ll help me? How ‘bout YOU?
I’m chilled by cops’ brutality.
Who do they think they are?
I’ll set some fires and knock folks down
and cuss till eardrums jar.
Huge crowds are marching peacefully.
The signs they hoist are lame.
If they cared deeply as I do,
they wouldn’t be so tame!
I don’t have time to tote a sign.
I’ve got to find a place
to store the stuff I stole—because
racism’s a disgrace!
***************
The truth? I’m just a thug at heart.
I LIVE for times like these.
They give me an excuse to do
exactly as I PLEASE!
This is my attempt at withering sarcasm!
Posted June 7, 2020
June 17, 2020
entered in John Hamilton's contest placed 4th
Favorite poem 2020 not written for a contest
frustration tearing at my soul
Where to turn to find a goal
My second cousin uses reiki
To heal across the void of space
He used it once on me one night
I felt his touch inside my bones
Though his hands never touched my skin
The healing came from deep within
But he is kin of kin
I venture now to try my skill
At reaching through the ether thrill
Send reiki on through time and space
Trying to flow with all the grace
That I can summon unto me
To ease your pain and set you free
It’s hard it hurts it hurts so much
To just convey this healing touch
But something throbs within my hands
I hope I strain it’s feeling grand
I hope I hope I hope it lands
This tingle jingle transic trance
In my chemically imbalanced mind,
All I can do is detest.
Wandering my dismal world of the blind,
Anxious of what’ll transpire next.
Losses not consolidated leave contributor raw
Arrears rip pages of rational compassionate law
Turblent thoughts toss turn to channel retaliation
Embittered brain rubs static into smooth radio station
Nocturnal curtain eternal drawn over forgiving stance
Tortured cortex tar drips coal smudge repugnance
Behind lids of eyes fingertips pressing upon
Lacking exposure conjures warped projection
Attonement can't be granted during darkness
Confessions sparkle once in white starkness
Killing accountability in murky private mind
Proliferating hatred sees old harm magnified
Asperity of sins committed stew in torpid trench
Years of historic plot twist regale harsh revenge
Bulged breeding dim ideas seethe evil scheme
Attack mapped by movie shock putrid scenes
Creeping balaclava covered crow bar at chest
Knavish initiation repaid with blood reaps debt
24th August 2021
Written for Contest : The Colour Black
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
A Warped Tree
Today, when not arguing with Walter the Jew on Facebook
the ambiance in the house was surprisingly calm since
I got a key to my study in peace to read my latest collection
and found, at times, the poems had an internal rhyme and
were little stories
The pity is that I have to write without a publisher
can't afford to hire one; those I dare to ask run a thousand miles
one of them, a poor man, is a lecturer at Udevalla
Last year, I visited a crooked tree so shy its roots curled
in bashfulness, and its leaves took an autumnal color
I wanted to know if there was a way for me to help get
her more gracious and straight
She took offense and said she was 105.
I felt like pointing out the tree by the drive into our village -
an olive tree is so old there is a possibility
Jesus sat under it, writing protest notes to the priests
in the service of the Roman church
One day the came, the uncouth people from the traffic division
chopped down ancient history and threw the remains
down a drain
Angrily, I protested to my doctor about the vandals
with my fist hit the table so hard a stethoscope fell to the floor
then the porter came, and I was made to leave.
When I came to Portugal, the natural thing was to study
and learn the language, but at the time, I was wrapped up
learning English
The Portuguese language is superbly fitted to Fado, but as a "lingo" for conversation, I failed,
I knew enough to get married.
The Norwegian vocality sounds like a Dane trying to talk Swedish
and is like wet cement being poured down a ditch dug by Lusitanos
spitting tobacco.
Ach, mein lieber Gott, I have lost many friends in the last sixty years.