Best Whetted Poems
Love Was Sent, Treasure That Healed Two Crushed Hearts,
A Collaboration with Susan Ashley
Life shattered, soul crushed, another one has perished
once gone from this world was all she ever cherished
No amazing and joyful tales to tell the kids
just naked silence, from raging of black rapids
From heavens above, truest of gifts handed down
romance sent, from He that wears faith's eternal crown.
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Love, its Lights flamed, happiness needs no explaining
summer warmth came from darkness rapidly waning
O' what glory, shall your heart forever hold mine
our sweet blessing, came from angelic hands divine
Within nights, kisses that sated our hot desires
came oaths of eternal love that never expires.
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Our soaring passions’ pure as nightingale’s song
enrapturing seduction righted what was wrong
upon our heartstrings’ twilight music we did fly
as supernova lusts did unfurl ‘cross the sky -
scintillating stardust showered us with magic
our souls’ kissed in sparkling bliss since events tragic.
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Dreamy nectar - ripened wine, whetted revival
as I sipped upon your essence for survival
rousing the wild-honey luscious look in your eyes
behind ambrosial mist passionate beauty lies
on thirsty tongues of fire we burned ‘till morning’s light
melting past the pain in moonflower swirls of night
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration), April 24, 2019
Poet’s note: My dear friend, it always a great honor for me to be able to collaborate with you and truly enjoy your inspirational verses! Such a blessing is to me a very precious gift you give me and my appreciation is sincere and honest in this my admiration for both your great friendship and your magnificent poetry talents!
Friends?
Are we still friends?
Can we JUST be friends?!?
Oh such a horrid, charity-stained question!
What a keen and salient dagger it wields!
The pity that you wear like black lace finery,
Is as deadly and whetted a sword as any raised in battle ...
The patronizing look in your eyes presses on its hilt
With the agonizing weight of feigned cordiality,
To pierce the tender flesh of my hopes,
Deep and quick and precise.
Why ... why this last dose of bitter passion??
To ease your careless conscience?
All you've done is make the blade more jagged,
The wound more brutal and raw.
Now here I lay ...
Exhausted in spirit and sinews,
By what I now realize was lovemaking for clemency's sake ...
One last, tender moment to minimize the blow.
Shards of moonlight through the louvers,
Lay like broken pieces of porcelain on furrowed bedclothes,
As my passions bleed out at your feet,
Draining my heart of the realities
Of what I thought we had ...
What might have been, beyond friendship.
My love for you collects in a puddle of one-sided regrets,
And now this dreadful question makes all a travesty,
A mocking, cruel, pitiful farce ...
No, my love, I can NEVER be just ... your friend.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "My Friend, My Love" Poetry Contest, Julie Leigh Rodeheaver, Judge & Sponsor.
you wear away at me with your silence
not with whetted words
or physical altercations
there are no recriminations
No...
it's much more corrosive than all of that
this is the sad fact
apathy barbed in neglect
is the tool that you use
not aware it's abuse
how it scrapes and it grinds
determined not to leave anything behind
day after day
night after night
year after year
till the memory
of who I was dissapears
a little bit more every day
you wear me away
voiceless, I fade
silent in your silent tirade
only pebbles remain
of a once templed soul
and with a little more time
pulverized,
they blow away...
by the constant silent howling
of your loveless heart
Eileen Manassian
When she smiled at him ----
the world could wait,
with its myriad of contradictions
and infinite postures to feigned joy;
there could be no deceit in her light....
That gorgeous assurance that he was as alive
as the vast heartbeat of the cosmos;
what a whetted pulse to quicken and burst
upon the shoulders of stars,
and saddle comets to flame....
ride the rays of the sun....
As a child again under the spell of ice cream,
shiny-toy and heroic dream;
the world could wait,
(when she smiled at him)
my angel, fallen ...
gossamer linen, violet lace
window-dressing body, pressing
goddess of unblemished grace
beckoning - urge reckoning
clasp me, push me ... down with you.
close, to see my eyes in yours
heart of darkness, warm and artless
measured with our carnal cores
fallowed - soon, unhallowed
pull me, draw me ... down with you.
savor sweet, your taste is mine
greedy swallows fill my hollows
faultless form, engorged supine
whetted - blade unfettered
cut me, rend me ... down with you.
pity, fawn to take me in
I, the frozen quarry, chosen
bartered virtue, ceded sin
merging - madness surging
gather me, wrench me ... down with you.
each dynamic sates a thirst
a darkened oath devours both
raptured sighs so unrehearsed
spasm - plunging chasm
drench me, drown me ... down with you.
painted nails to flay my frame
stripes of lust, a jealous trust
lesions roused for fervor's flame
unversed - do your worst
stain me, rake me ... down with you.
feral places, once denied
cognate parts to blackened hearts
souls and selves we can't divide
twisted - double-fisted
grind me, burn me ... down with you.
sing to me a siren's wail
rip the rhyme from all sublime
watch the frenzied portions flail
disguised - hell, improvised
smite me, drag me ... down with you.
all in, my angel ... fallen
so sweetly, and
so deeply
down.
with.
you.
** This is a poetic form I created called “Torridelle”, (not the actual shape, but the rhyme scheme, phrasing and metre). **
~
~ 2nd Place ~ in the Poetry Soup "Wow Me" Poetry Contest, Nina Parmenter, Judge & Sponsor.
No torrid steel rod cauterized my wounds
I could not lick the festering gashes clean
Your sharp-bladed tongue bit too deep
fangs plunged with each vile cursed scene
No mere prick or scratch did you inflict
as thorns draw drops from a finger laid bare
You severed our dangling cord with a stare
Without gauntlet thrown before you swayed
I was waylaid in the pitfall of vows betrayed
I sat weeping upon moistened ground
faintly hearing from ears, a snarling sound
a vile bitterness in your laughter as I stirred
If you have a conscience, I shall be its burr
You turned your back and sidled away
basking in glory; your cruelty had been done
but there is no victory for you, nothing won
for a man whose feet were molded of clay
How often you preyed on weakness of others
while you played at being sanctimonious
Liquid courage brings death that smothers
but I escaped the hold you once tightly held
before my life had been snuffed and felled
I still breathe and I've no fear to speak
I've been set free, and I'm no longer weak
My tongue holds daggers of its own
whetted on the grind stone of your deception
I was hungry for strength, parched with thirst
to take vengeance as my anger grew
emotions that were long past due
Felling you would then label me a doer of evil
which is something I would never desire to be
Vengeance will never be mine to take
knowing this is true is what set me free
Years will pass but I shall never forget
that I was true to you, yet I sorely regret
not realizing the kind of person I loved
I've moved on and no longer grieve
while you still swim in the fiery waters
of your besotted world of make believe
~ Contention grows beyond its mortal vail
to rail against suppression none condone,
for tyranny imposed shall not prevail
when liberty is paid in flesh and bone.
Let not the price deter the bold pursuit
for apprehension steals the breath of life,
arise in arms from ‘neath oppression's boot
to wield the whetted blade of freedom’s knife.
But war is not without its mortal cost,
it leaves all rationale in shadowed doubt,
for freedoms gained, when precious life is lost,
leave ironies triumphant in the bout.
When despots rage, devotion has no fear
as independence hones rebellion’s spear.
3-19-22
* This is a rather intricate form I created called a “Torridelle” - I hope you enjoy it! *
~
my Angel, fallen ...
gossamer linen, violet lace
window-dressing body, pressing
goddess of unblemished grace
beckoning - urge reckoning
clasp me, push me ... down with you.
close, to see my eyes in yours
heart of darkness, warm and artless
measured with our carnal cores
fallowed - soon, unhallowed
pull me, draw me ... down with you.
savor sweet, your taste is mine
greedy swallows, fill my hollows
faultless form, engorged supine
whetted - blade unfettered
cut me, rend me ... down with you.
pity, fawn to take me in
I, the frozen quarry chosen
bartered virtue, ceded sin
merging - madness surging
gather me, wrench me ... down with you.
each dynamic sates a thirst
a darkened oath devours both
raptured screams yet unrehearsed
spasm - plunging chasm
drench me, drown me ... down with you.
painted nails to flay my frame
stripes of lust, a jealous trust
lesions roused for fervor's flame
unversed - do your worst
stain me, rake me ... down with you.
feral places, once denied
cognate parts to blackened hearts
souls and selves we can't divide
twisted - double-fisted
grind me, burn me ... down with you.
sing to me a siren's wail
rip the rhyme from all sublime
watch the frenzied portions flail
disguised - hell, improvised
smite me, drag me ... down with you.
all in, My Angel ... fallen
so sweetly, and
so deeply
down.
with.
you.
My heart lay barely beating, drowning in a marinade
of salted tears that fell from my reddened eyes.
Blood dripped down my chin from biting my swollen lips
as if they were wounded like a heart pierced by words
that were hurled as if they were whetted daggers.
Whose fingertips drew the target upon my lashed back?
The attack ripped my flesh, inflicting pain without pause.
My cries were echoing in refrain, pleading for the cause.
No response was given as I cringed and groaned
in this shadowed place, this empty void.
In fetal position on the floor, I flinched each time
I heard knuckles wrapping upon my weathered door.
Sluggish was my mind, as if waking from a nap,
wishing I could snap out of Alice's realm where I can't tell
if I'm under a spell or walking in a hellish nightmare
of reality where I wax and wane like sunlight and moonbeams.
Many things that surround me are not always as they seem.
Methinks Mine Earlier Rhyme Came Across Desperate...
For Hard Cold Cash
This small medium at large
kibitzer did appear
more brash (albeit) poetically,
and insinuate with soft pedal blare
perhaps at the expense of dare
ring to losing followers, this crash
test dummies star performer
did not mean to ensnare,
perhaps hypnotically tugged
heartstrings with his flair
analogous to birds eye glare
ruffling tail feathers of
a frosty buoy hoar gull (hare
reed) loon seething with hormonal
secretion and the brink to engineer
foolproof mating elaborate fanfare,
when bytes of my obviously clear
expression to succor minted heir
to a fortune (courtesy
anonymous philanthropist), now leer
re: asper point blank plea
for wads of moolah, but mere
lee issuing agitation where
substantial outlay to repair
(passenger side rear)
brake assembly, the automotive
technician espied situation where,
abrasion and erosion clear
as day, which critical assessment
warranted me to declare
an immediate affirmative
decision, which near
broke ma stainless steel piggy bank
to tune of six hundred bucks - hair
reed, an understatement, almost near
lee six months to the day, a prior reap
pair cost similar dollar figure,
which even at present
found yours truly still in despair,
then only to experience,
sans "FAKE" foreseer
(as ordained by Oracle
of Delphi) despite prayer
for me to vouchsafe share
ring at least one daily
compliment to the missus - neh veer
being privy (during our
twenty second plus year)
of whetted bull
lust stick missile exchanges, there
came shortfall of forced favorable blare
ring of said utterenced, thus superstition
an ugly head didst rear.
The young boy happy and contented in life
Sheltered from the real evils of man
Lost in his room with the treasures of adventure
Unbridled dreams tapestry serene summer days
Purity of youth’s innocence in soft blue eyes
This happy child lost in pages upon his bed
Never paying life a second thought
The realization that someday he would pass on
Oh, to be invincible again if only for a moment…
Years flitter by on the winds as they always have
Struggle reared up its eyes all to often
The imagination boy of unsullied venture
Began the transforming journey into the world
The crisp blue eyes of photographed youth
Now a hard gray reflecting scars of strife
The insatiable ardor for living in the moment
Becomes the bittersweet flavor of years gone by
Under the flushing candle his sword now a pen
He writes of looking in the mirror of whetted eyes
Wishing what he believed then, he could grasp now.
Oh, to be invincible again if only for a moment…
A MEANINGFUL DESIRE
Human nature is never satisfied
temporal fulfilments we evaluate and try
these things may serve their use
inexhaustible riches we so oft’ confuse
generous gifts are open-handedly bestowed
our appetites are whetted—seldom slowed
contentment remains an elusive pleasure
stubbornly we pursue all earthly treasure
our fun-filled ,self-styled life—insane
wearily penetrating absurdities of life—inane
negating souls try unearth significance –require
eternal cravings provide--solitary meaningful desire
*~*
I sit -looking at the river gracefully bending
Flowing smoothly over moss covered rocks and stones
Measuring in endless time -my life
My loves, my losses
Posing my thoughts with unspoken words
Just me and the river...
Sitting all alone
I cry- my whetted, salty tears
Like the river weeping her warm liquid waves
Showering the earth with her promising shades of life
Breathing her liquid grace over all the lands she saves?
Yet…
I could not save us
My hungry heart hides my tears as I breathe in your image
Calling your name -whispering our story
And all the tender moments
Of our once remembered glory
With my thoughts softly weaving their dreams
I trace the memories of the sweetest fruit from the vine
Painting vivid pictures of warm candlelight and roses
That turned into a sad, bitter tasting wine
My grieving spirit hides the breeze that softly blows
Whispering in its low, hushed voice
My sad, lonely story…
That only I and the river know
Hiding my shattered heart
A bird...
With a broken wing
*~*
The Blackness
From the time of the beginning
A blackness there has been
And though he sits there grinning
He can’t be touched or seen
A taste he’ll place upon your tongue
Sweet words he’ll whisper in your ear
And even though you know it’s wrong
You’ll sink before his scent in fear
He’s everywhere and nowhere
His art is finely tuned
He’ll choose his prey with utmost care
And then the prey is doomed
In the shadows he’ll be waiting
Temptation in his hand
A picture he’ll be painting
In the minds of the damned
He’s practise in his winning ways
He binds you in his spell
And then the soul of he who plays
Is on the road to hell
His aim, an army is to gather
Of bandits, tykes and ghouls
Wild eyed and whetted lips a lather
To reign on witless fools
And a message he sends out
Upon the slightest breeze
To those so full of doubt
That light nor dark can’t please
To the hunted, he says hide
For the hunter he has freed
Feel the hunter at your side
To fulfil his darkest need
Sadness.
My aching heart
strains to pump
its crimson life
and thus maintains
the whetted blade,
in dark forbode,
upon my neck.
And tears,
whose flow
might ransom
my tormented mind,
lie dormant as
dry and
withered seeds
upon unyielding stone.
Might, instead,
I someday rise
and gaze transfixed
into the wholesome sky
with feelings of
forgotten love
that dare to
live again.