Best Wire Poems
There’s the tightrope for you to walk, wire walker —
defying the gravity of reality and the reality of gravity
you know damn well he won't catch you when you fall
as your sticky grip on the star’s razor edge slips
back away from the black back-alley -
use the street’s angles and curves to your advantage
run! from the rouse of his lure
as the lore is as sordid as it is euphoric -
ruined as you are by the ruse of his rune
fade to disappearance with distance
ride the rift of spindrift; a smoke screen
as if you were never here
but the territorial she-wolf knows…
she dreams of pouring rain pooling on a blurry beach
though she may choose not to open sand-puddled eyes
intuition is not blind and instincts are hackled —
for she’s downwind of dual deception
and her elegant nose is one with the yellow-rose winds
her howls now haunt your hurricane
passion’s kite - once blissfully lost in windy swagger
brash in its stellar flash amidst a hazy starlit pinwheel -
has returned a stormy petrel
dark and hovering over self-inflicted wounds feeding on strife —
incised by the rapier side-eye of your conscience
you seek to stem the red flow of guilt washing up in waves
knowing you can’t dye scarlet heartbeats white
there’s the tightrope for you to walk, wire walker;
the bloodline — that which binds
a sinful sister’s envies to the sinless sister
and divides loaves of husband-lies for the bronze bloodless sinner.
Black Bird
Sitting on a wire
Why is your back turned towards me?
Do you wish to hide the intelligence of your eyes,
or do you wish to create some mystery?
I have seen you
Here at this old dump
Picking through the unwanted wanted things
I wish I could search along with you
Check out what the Jones's have no more use for
The bits of unfixed
The not new enough
Their "I think we deserve the very best"
"This ain't good enough, let's buy more and more stuff!"
At one time
I wore their discarded clothes
Wore them without pride
I should have been proud
For I dug for them with wanting hands
Hands that waded through decadence
Refillable
Recyclable
Usable
Black Bird
I watched you and your brothers
As you feasted on our last suppers
Ripping open black bags
Fighting for morsels
Unconcerned with the rotting
Intoxicated by fermenting fruit
Pungent aromas
Bones that needed to be picked clean
Me noticing but not recalling until now
Back then
I was hoping
Praying for a bicycle
Desperately wanting to ride far away from here
Escape my then
My embarrassment
My, I hope no one sees me!
"Garbage picker!"
"Where did you get that coat?"
"We threw that in the dump!"
Boy oh boy do I like clothes now.
No one makes fun of what I wear!
Part of me wishes to return with you Black Bird
To see what I left behind
Reclaim
Recycle that little boy
But I can't
The dumps aren't open anymore
It is like those old bones
Bleached
Picked clean
Manicured
Items placed in appropriate piles
All the while
You sit on your wire
Back turned to me
Intelligent eyes hidden
Knowing I can't disturb you
In a while you will feed on yesterday
For this place
Is not closed to you!
Barbed wire seems a 'thorny' subject on which to opine,
But there arose a need for such for people and beasts to confine!
Cowpokes cussed as they worked with it mutilating their hands.
Sheepherders fussed with cattlemen as it spread across their lands!
'Tis said back in 1874 Joseph Glidden, who 'bristled' with the idea,
Was awarded a patent for barbed wire to provide a cure-all panacea!
Split-rail fencing to outline boundaries was rapidly becoming passe',
To keep neighbors' straying goats, horses and other critters at bay!
Sheriffs found barbed wire handy to enforce a judge's firm dictates,
To confine hoss thieves, cattle rustlers and other such reprobates!
Inmates trying to scamper through the wire were apt to rip their pants,
Or worse, might end up in 'boot hill', caught trying to scale the fence!
Alas, sinister uses for barbed wire were found beyond bucolic meadowlands.
'Twas used to enslave thousands of innocent souls behind its menacing strands.
Thousands of men, women and children were consigned to death at Dachau,
Triblinka, Buchenwald, Ravensbruck and Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Among its many other diverse uses it has even marched off to wars,
To protect gallant American soldiers on far too many alien shores.
Mister Joseph Glidden was doing mankind a great favor, he thought.
Were he alive today he might say, "My gawd, what hath I wrought!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I must admit that I ain't very handy with hammer and nails,
And am hopelessly at sea when figurin' technical details.
As to fixin' things with fancy tools, I haven't a clue,
But I'm a whiz at usin' duct tape, balin' wire and super glue!
Tho' it's somewhat unwieldly and it sure ain't too ornate,
Balin' wire can be used in an emergency as hinges for a gate!
'Tis perfect for securin' the droopin' bumper on my automobile,
And for supportin' the saggin' muffler, balin' wire is ideal!
No doubt you'll bond at least two fingers together, 'tis true,
But, Oh! The myriad of things to be fixed with super glue!
'Tis good for repairin' artificial teeth when in a pinch,
And for mendin' broken shards and earrings, 'tis a cinch!
How can we ever thank the feller who invented duct tape enough!
It holds the universe together! Life without it would be tough!
It'll patch anything, gag a spouse, keep a man's toupee in place;
Why! It was even used to repair Apollo 13 in outer space!
With these marvels of the modern age I can tackle any situation,
Fixin' things with simple application and heady innovation.
Why should I be thwarted usin' nails, screws, staples and such,
When duct tape, super glue and balin' wire are my sturdy crutch!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
I stared intently at blackbirds on a wire
they were lined in a row
as though someone had painted them there
fascinated, I continued to gaze
hoping to identify which one would fly away first
knowing if one flew
the coop so to speak
the rest would follow because of some unknown
inner requirement
determined was I to single out the leader
of the flock
(do you call a group blackbirds a flock?
even if they are not flocking
but sitting?)
I dared not blink
but I knew that at some point in time I would have to
but I refused
the world stood still
there was no noise about
although I knew cars were passing by
concentration
intense concentration on that damn line of blackbirds
"Hey!"
startled I inadvertently turned to the sound
a woman
unknown to me
said
"When I fall in love and marry
I want to be studied with that
same intense consideration
hearing the sound of fluttering wings
I turned too late
the blackbirds were in the air
©June 29, 2017 / Jerry Pat Bolton
Walking a thin wire
way up high above
whichever way you lean
you just might fall in love.
At times there's nothing better
the feelings are so great
mistakes do sometimes happen
when love has turned to hate.
It's hard for some to figure
why everything did change
but love is an enigma
and sometimes even strange.
So get back on the wire
better balanced than before
another chance at falling
for a love that will endure!
Take me out to the kill people game
Turn me loose on the crowd
Give me some kidneys and backs to crack
I don't care who it is I attack
Let me bash, bash, bash as they scream loud
If they don't die it's a shame
Cuz it's one, two, three strikes you're dead
In the old kill people game.
"Live Wire"
I am tired of all this proper conduction
Of man and his so called civilized life
Stop give birth to telephone poles
Stop making us get in lines down the road
I don't want to stand up stiff and straight
I don't want to offer you service anymore
If you want me to be electric and useful
Then give me a future that is truly shocking
I deserve to feel real surges of innovation
The powerful sensations of a free dancer
Make me one who can break away
From society and from this force fed life
This is the only life we get, let us be wild
We were meant to be live wires unbounded
Spontaneous examples who cut loose
Because juices flow by the desires of freedom
Abandon the company you keep right now
They will take advantage of you all day
Everyday feel the real pulse with me
Life is a short trip once you become fried
Rusted wire against a tree, year by year recedes
The countless rings of outer bark enwrap the wire within.
I mark the circles choking me. I’m taut, stretched thin.
Thus Time is so absorbing me. Consumed. The oak tree feeds.
Stan the atheist walked a wire
Strung between two church spire,
However a forceful bell-ringing nun
Brought the non-believer undone,
Saying, that'll fix the religious denier.
Birds roosting on the power line,
Squirrel can’t cross but he’s trying.
That’s his regular run across this road,
Back to his home with his acorn load.
Squirrel’s always in a hurry it’s seeming,
No time for their gabbing and preening.
He does this high wire act most every day,
And chatters at the birds to be on their way.
Duly admonished they reluctantly fly off,
And he continues his mission aloft.
Crossing this road I’m driving, he’s up above,
He’d use the ground if push came to shove,
But his kin used to cross on the road below at will,
Sadly I’ve seen, they ended up as road kill.
Apparently to live, he’s learning what he’s got to do,
So goodbye little squirrel, I’m off to work too.
My heart bares many wounds
that will not heal
mementoes of lost love
and heartache time hasn't heeled
I have cried so many internal tears
that burned inside me
as deep as the deepest sea
but still no one understands
or knows the pain that festers deep inside me.
So I place barbed wire around my heart
and barbed wire around my lips
build a brick wall around me
that no one can strip.
I've raised the drawbridge locked the gate
being a loser in love
was my curse my fate.
''An old poem, the drawbridge is now down!.''
Peter Dome .copyright.2013. Dec.
Black Bird on a Wire
Black Bird
sitting on a wire
back turned towards me
Do you wish to hide the intelligence of your eyes
I see here at this old dump
picking through the unwanted wanted things
I wish I could search along with you
check out what the Jones's have no more use for
The bits of their unfixed
the not new enough
Their "I think we deserve the very best."
"This ain't good enough, let's buy more and more stuff!"
At one time
I wore their discarded garments without pride
I should have been proud
for I dug for them with my wanting hands
Hands that waded through
their decadence
the refillable
the recyclable
their unused reusable
Black Bird
I watch you and your brothers
as you feasted on our last suppers
Ripping open black bags
fighting for morsels
Unconcerned with the rotting
intoxicated by fermenting fruit
the pungent aromas
There are bones that need to be picked clean
I noticed but did not recall until now
the depth of my wanting
the hunger within
Back then
I was hoping
praying for a bicycle
Desperately wanting to ride far away from here
so that I might escape my then
my embarrassment
my "I hope no one sees me!"
"Garbage picker!"
"Where did you get that coat?"
"We threw that in the dump!"
Boy oh boy do I like clothing now.
No one will ever again make fun of what I wear!
Part of me wishes to return with you Black Bird
to see what I have left behind
So that I can reclaim
and recycle that little boy
But I can't
The dumps aren't open anymore
It is like those old bones
bleached
picked clean
Manicured
Items placed in appropriate piles
All the while
you sit on your wire
back turned to me
Intelligent eyes hidden
knowing I can't disturb you
In a while you will feed on yesterday
for this place
is not closed to you!
This piece grew out of my childhood experiences. We got our clothing from the dump and I still remember a girl saying to my sister " That's my coat, we threw that in the dump." I felt so bad for her and also for myself.
A heart wrapped in barbed wire.
it shouldnt beat, it shouldnt pump.
it shouldnt make the faintest sound,
of a little thump thump.
but its there, and its cold.
all the pain, and the hurt
is realy getting old.
how long can it beat, wrapped up in wire?
it cant be much longer, till its done and im free.
but wait, it gets tighter. hurting more and more.
cant it just be done? can my misery be over?
someone pleas just pull it out.
what ever happens then cant be worse then now.
i wish i could scream, i wish i could shout,
but no sound escapes these lips.
these lips, once so warm and tender,
now sit cold and forgotten,
just like a burnt out ember.
pleas just make it stop!
no longer can i bare it!
pleas just make it stop!
that way, i wont have to share it,
this misery that surrounds me.
tighter and tighter, the wire holds its grip.
its slashing and ripping,
like its being whipped.
how long can i stand it?
please tell me how!?
its impossible to ever feel, especially now.
its been cut, its been beat,
no longer is it usefull.
cant anyone see that it would be better off gone?
i cant do it myself! i need someones help!
will no one come save me?
will no one come help?
feelings burn, no longer pleasent.
i waited and waited,
focousing only on the present.
to late! im gone. to lost in the past.
my life is speeding by, all to fast,
but wait, now it stops, mooving by like a snail.
the hammer has once again found my heart,
pounding in the nail.
and so its no use, my fate has been sealed.
this heart wrapped in wire will never be healed.
Waiting for a phone call
Hoarding memories surrounding
A nest of sorrow
She's deep asleep
I watch her...
She's
dreaming dreams of happy times but gone...
Busy walls with mounted smiles
A mute TV screen displaying a tragic comedy
Curtains shielding tears
Three phone devices that do not ring...
I must go back to my reality
I cry, she cries...
Our phones do not even sound busy...
Invisible wires of the soul crash in memories...
copyright@iolandascripca2013