Best Wicked Poems
“Wicked Web of Woes”
Is there a reason
to rhyme when
lifeless fingers
breathe toxic agony,
whilst disgraced
quill suffocates
from wildering
riddles swerving to
the stillness
of calcified air?
As today, my heart
keeps pacing,
searching for a
symphony of serenity-
amid wayward clemency,
and when the first star
of the evening sky,
fades and shatters
upon a celestial canvas
of colorless dreams.
I feel the sweeping
wings of salvation,
resting amidst
clipped faith,
drifting swiftly towards
abandoned clarity;
exiled into
barren fields of
vast polarities,
where hope collapses
into an eternal demise,
tangled within a
wicked web
of woeful sagas,
trapped between
heavy clouds
of unshed tears,
beneath the
crisp cusp of sanity.
Yet I stand in
sweltering silence,
recollecting lost
chronicles of
who I once was,
whilst I’m drowning
in waves of
vexing numbness,
screaming into
the oblivious
spheres cloaked
in smoky
arctic haze,
questioning the
captive chains
of reality,
in dialects only
the moon
can comprehend.
Am I destined
to be caged
in sinful darkness
that the
world fed me,
with sharpened
knives at
empty tables,
with faceless
ghosts of yesterday?
Perhaps there’s
still a poem
that can unlock
the mystery
to a future that
thrives with
fruitful orchards,
where rain that
tastes succulent
wouldn’t burn
your flesh,
for even the
milky-ways would
unravel a realm where
everything should
be as it seems.
Vanquishing the
strings that bind—
daring me to breathe.
Ink Empress
Fading Star Silence
This poison paint colors my canvas
Indelible, it will not depart
Painted this masterwork is on my surface
Loathsome canvas!
Wicked art!
A masterpiece you work
Varnished transgressions that can not be washed free
Free, from my oil-receptive canvas
For this reason, now
I must hide this artistic blot
This poison paint
With oils of Truth
Worked by hands of spirit
So that set eyes will never see this crafted bane
A new masterpiece in its stead
We sisters three are scary as scary can be.
Evil is tormented, haunted by choices of her past.
Wicked is hollow, and the most bitter of the three.
Demented is angry, and so cold that her blood turns icy fast.
All paranoid and suspicious in everything they do.
Evil has had her dreams snatched from her grasp.
She feels alone, and her ghosts are from her missing crew.
Her pain is enough to make even the strongest gasp.
Each one is afraid to let anyone breach their wall.
Wicked is a lover who has been badly used.
She never thought she'd love, but eventually she did fall.
Only to be lied to, cheated on and abused.
They only have each other to trust and rely on.
Demented has been the victim of ominous play.
She was captured and used like a chess pawn.
Now all will pay the price and rue that fateful day.
So as you see Evil, Wicked and Demented are strong.
If you see them coming, you might should run and hide.
They will forever be trying to right the wrong.
Be careful if you are a user, a liar, hateful or snide.
Her love is a tenacious hurricane
A vicious tide knocking me down
A heavy, steady, angry rain
blanket of water consuming the ground
Her touch is poison, penetrating my flesh
An addictive venom inside my veins
Lethal toxins that weren't meant to mesh
Taking my life by the reigns
Demonic and sexy in her red high heels
Sporting a halo that hangs by a thread
A thief of hearts, she carelessly steals
Her disease rapidly spreads
Pleasant and painful, a package deal
Drawing me in with sexual bait
Her affection for me is far from real
Though my desires and I debate
I'm haunted by the ghosts of those fallen
From the spell of her wicked finesse
But her powerful grip, has me stalling
She is a masterful temptress
buried here beneath
this veritable verdant sod
lies another one
© Harry J Horsman 2019
Some Of Them Even Came With Wicked Scars
As I count my blessings among bright stars
hope and love echo to me like loud blasts.
Gave up wild life, living in the bars,
were nothing that's good or bad ever lasts!
Sad morns waking, a stranger in my bed
nights enjoyed, now shallow memories gone.
Could I have walked better path instead,
been enticed to have walked all alone?
My mind wanders back to wild days of youth,
days and nights of sweet pleasure then unbound.
Can we ever know if lost time is truth
or mystery sent to our lives confound?
As I count my blessings among bright stars
Some of them even came from wicked scars!
R.J. Lindley
May 9th, 1991
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 110
Goodness me, fiddle dee dee and la de dah
Mary turned into a black sheep, baa baa baa
That naughty little lamb
Has contrived a big scam
She's gone too far astray and has lost her way
Mary's been tinkering on an old fiddle
But she can't play worth a piddle or diddle
She's as crazy as a loon
Mind and fiddle outta tune
Even the cow can unravel this riddle
I heard about the guy, name of Jack Horner
Who hangs around the lamp post on the corner
Mary does his bidding
It's true. I'm not kidding
She didn't listen when I tried to warn her
What'd you plant in your garden, Mary Mary?
I heard smokin' it will make you quite merry
The feds have grown wise
To her innocent disguise
My goodness! She's become very contrary!
Mean ol' Mary dressed up as Little Bo Peep
To bully and mock the flock of grazing sheep
She is shamefully cruel
I'd meet her in a duel
To put an end to that mean-spirited creep
Last weekend she frightened Little Miss Muffet
Who was eating a light lunch on her tuffet
Munching her whey and curd
When Mary dropped a turd
Then ran off, telling Miss Muffet to stuff it!
What a fussy hellcat Mary has become
Her lies have people describing her as 'scum'
She's bonkers in the head
Obviously ill bred
and if you believe a word she says, you're dumb
Evil is a person who chases blind mice
But by now we all know Mary is not nice
She screamed at them, "Now run!"
Then shot 'em with her gun
One day that ghastly creature will pay the price
The Big Bad Wolf's a hero in Mary's thinking
Cuz he's dreadful to others without blinking
He was mean to two pigs
when he blew down their digs
Mary's just as horribly cruel, I'm thinking
Like Humpty Dumpty, who once sat on a wall
Mary's wicked ways will lead to her downfall
A powder keg's been lit
It will hurt quite a bit
But she's a bad egg who always starts a brawl
pitch black ...
like ink ... or drowning in oil
only she could breathe
barely ...
heart thrumming in her ears like tympani
it was all she could hear
thankfully ...
she had awakened from dreaming
a good dream, too
(though it was now gone from memory)
laying on her left side
she had first felt the awful cold
not just a chill
but a horrid freezing
as if it was mid-winter and all the windows were open
but it was early July ...
her back to the bedroom door
she had rolled over slowly, eyes closed
though she could tell through closed lids
that the hall light was on
sensing that her mother was checking on her
she parted her lids very slightly
and froze in terror ...
as a gigantic black figure hulked in the doorway
icy cold waves of air emanating from it
in all directions
as if it was made of ice
perhaps she was still dreaming, she'd thought
and so cracked her lids a bit more
only to see
two rows of needle-like teeth
about where a mouth should be
but no eyes ...
no ANYthing else but blackness
and that horrid, bone-chilling cold breath.
for a while she'd stayed motionless
feigning sleep
but when it didn't move
she'd resolved to make a plan and stick to it
so she counted to three in her head
quickly jumped out of bed on the other side
and RAN to the closet ...
slamming the door
and tying it shut with a belt
from the knob to the closet pole.
that was almost an hour ago, counting in her head
and all that time, silence ...
utter, dead silence ...
and that horrid freezing cold.
there was not a bit of light in the closet
so no matter how long she'd been there it was like ink
and the darkness and cold and awful silence
pressed in on her
with weight
unbearable
heart beating louder ... breath getting shallower
and horrific images of those teeth dancing in her mind.
then, just when it seemed like
the silence would drive her insane
a sound came ...
a dry, sinister, rhythmic scraping sound ...
like claws of ice on a chalkboard
but louder
and growing MORE so by the second
as it crawled steadily across her bedroom floor
toward the closet ...
where she waited, terrified
inside.
Once upon a time
Present became past
Engaging in your rhyme
You forgot, it wouldn’t last
You abruptly awoke
From an afternoon slumber
Equivalent abode
Different postal number
You couldn’t hear the sizzle
Of a simmering, dinner pot
Nor was there a whistle
To say the tea was hot
Mother wasn’t dancing
She wasn’t there at all
The silence was baffling
As you stumbled down the hall
Your lightbulb had been changed
As you knew it would, some day
But the timing felt so strange
Recalling so much gray
At the drop of a hat, just like that
Your story was Chrystal clear
You worried over tit for tat
Though, time, you should have feared
I'm telling you
Invest in super glue...
Glue super dudes's balls to his shoe,
Then what kind of running around can he do?
On Wicked Kings And Time Destroyed Dragons
O foolish king, sitting on hollow throne
thy lost kingdom so dark, thee sits alone.
Embrace thy greed, measured in stolen gold
destroying people with your lies so bold.
O foul villain, in false pride laboring
greater evil thy own destruction brings.
Thy henchman, voices rarely taboring
singing false praise to their cowardly king.
O hideous dragon, thee shall find death
power will be taken from fangs and claws.
Cry , when fire is removed from thy breath
and silky-smooth is made thy wicked paws.
In thy deserved death, innocence is spared
scales of justice, the two hast been compared!
R.J. Lindley,
April 24th, 1973
SONNET, (On justice being delivered to tyrants and dragons)
On our bed she sits
Laced, bare to her skin
Pouting lips excite me
Teasing begins
Her tongue tastes the air
In a lusting roll
Through the lace I see ripe
My heart extols
Each moment she moves
I capture a pertness so firm
My eyes in delight
As my body affirms
She bows her head
Turns and looks
As soon as I view
Entranced, I'm hooked
Towards her I walk
Slow steps at a time
Nearing her beauty
Admiring sublime
I stand before she
Man that I am
To my knees I fall
As I become her lamb
Hands meet skin
Touching with kissing
Eyes momentarily meet
Knowing their wishing
The lace I gently pull
Revealing tanned soft skin
Desiring now affects me
To love her from within
Our bodies gently meet
Side by side we face and kiss
Loving moments captured
It's time to grace our bliss
Silk sheets endorse our rhythm
As we release undulating waves
In unison we share
Our sensuous inner craves
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-12.php
The Vicious Wicked Cuts Of Dead Dreams And Reality
The lake, its long, wide sandy beach, called to me
urgent messages, saying feel this in my seeking heart
cryptic signs, splashing in stormy moonlit swells
that vision, that jewel, pure beauty walking on water
a ravenous goddess sent to Love and set me Free-
not the courage for which my prayers had begged
nor that massive strength this body so dearly craved
not even the power to deny death's grip, its final knock
just her and a body that drove this soul stark, raving mad
her lustful body and a kiss that had slain lost empires-
how could I such exquisite treasure ever dare to deny
refuse its promises, gentle touch and enticing smiles
its moans and solemn promise of happiness to come
vows that swore eternity would be our bountiful reward
and how each new dawn our bed would be our golden palace-
then the calls stopped, the waters dried and searing pain
falling heartfirst into a deep, dark and roaring void
the vicious cuts and stings that ate into crackling bones
dreaded nights of agony's loss, icing large poisoned cakes
and daybreak with its dying moans of soul ripping lights-
the goddess, the lake, the beach all had just disappeared
and from the new abyss, came that horrible beast named Reality-
R. J. Lindley,
May 27th, 1976
Dark verse,
( When The World Delivers Its Most Heartbreaking Blows )
Watching "The Wizard of Oz," I was struck
By reactions of kids in the room
When the witch was on screen - not the pink one, of course,
But the one with the green face and broom.
There were questions and fear but a need to observe,
Since they've seen it before and they felt
All that evil must go, so the very best part
Was the water that caused her to melt.
Though there's hatred and pain in the world that we know
And no way to avoid confrontation,
It would be such a thrill if a gesture so small
Could extinguish that harsh conflagration.
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.