Best Woes Poems
I rise and fall like melancholy tides
in ebb and flow of wistful disrepair,
our separate in consciousness divides,
the whiff of grief fills broken-hearted air.
Neglected now, heartstrings' rawhide, I mourn
with briny beads that water my dismay,
eyes teary drizzled mist, inside forlorn,
my psyche pierced by thorns in love's bouquet.
Whatever will I do, this emptiness..?
A gnawing hollow where my heart should be.
My lonely preys me like a lioness,
a simba stalks this lost love refugee.
Soft morning sun does gaze into my eyes
enlightening the depths of agonize.
“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
Are you thinking of me tonight?
I sit on the warm carpet
in this mountain hut,
in front of a blazing fireplace,
where flames flicker fitfully
and logs crackle in delight.
Outside it's chilly cold,
snow softly cover the land,
owls seek shelter and warmth,
while windowpanes
are covered with frost
that looks like a lover's lace.
And you? Do you feel cold or warm?
Are you thinking of me tonight?
Outside of my inner self
I feel the fire's comfort.
Inside I'm as cold as the snow.
Of what use are the burning embers?
I prefer the welcoming warmth
of your endearing arms.
Give me your hot breath
on my cold neck.
Let me imbibe your fragrance
even for one instant.
You are so far away.
When will you be back from work?
You said in about half an hour or so,
We will be together in the warmth.
But are you thinking of me tonight?
You sit there in your castle all alone
Surrounded by the trinkets of the past
Sometimes a King is shackled to his throne
Sadly the days of glory did not last
You feel the heart of a warrior beat
Surrounded by the trinkets of the past
It seemed the world had been laid at your feet
Now it is your men that go to battle
You feel the heart of a warrior beat
You long once again to feel the saddle
The coursing of blood going through your veins
Now it is your men that go to battle
You are King so they say you hold the reins
You long for the adventure and the speed
The coursing of blood going through your veins
The sound of snorting from your mighty steed
You long for the adventure and the speed
You sit there in your castle all alone
Sometimes a King is shackled to his throne
For those of us who are married
We know how it often goes
Good days, bad ones and some
Common, annoying marital woes
I left a smidgen of toilet paper
Enough on the roll you can see
But then later when it’s my turn
Again, you left nothing for me
The toothpaste is out and rolled into a ball
I say throw it, it’s not worth squeezing it all
I yell to you but you don’t hear my shout
We sure find petty things to argue about
The dirty laundry is now piled high
You think it’s my job, not sure why?
I do remember when you shrunk my vest
And I told you then to just leave the rest
I tell you the rugs need to be vacuumed soon
You say forget it, it’s lunchtime, almost noon
After lunch, you bring your dirty dishes to the sink
And load them in the dishwasher that’s on the brink
We then sit together as we talk and laugh until we cry
And realize our time together is precious as it flies by
We then agree to disagree, we both can be wrong
Because we would be heartbroken if one of us was gone
When mourning dove sings,
weave moonlit woes from silver,
syllables of stars.
Petals drenched in poison pearls of emerald envy,
carefully placed objectives whilst adrift in my tears of realization
Longing sorrowful souls among lilac lakes,
buried deep into somber depths of tinkering procrastination
Starving for ruby righteousness and pristine perfection, and yet still reaching towards a tilt heart searching desperately sunset embers
Distinguishing luminescent authenticity among
bittersweet endives drifts away with each cooling December
Shall I pursue soft screams for kissed loving
ethereal roses dazzled with enchanting sensations
To float away from every twisted hazing hoax with every spoken whirling weapon - coated with fabrications
I struggle with electronic forms,
To this simpleton, a bag of worms.
But fresh French coffee, and a smile.
May help me make this final mile.
The silvered stars behind we twinkle!
Do aid me, in removing ‘ mind wrinkles’!
9/20/2021
The Soup kitchen's queue are in line .
The economy , banjaxed and dyin' .
When Lehmans went bust
The bankers just cussed
So now , " Buddy who can spare a dime " ?.
I called up my banker , by chance .
With an invite to the " Poor Peoples " dance .
He came dressed in rags
With two plastic bags
And the ass missing , from his old pants .
No Ferraris or Mercs to be seen .
For between us , we hadn't a bean .
The soup it was cold
And the bread , it had mould
And Seamus the Chef , was a " Queen " .
The dessert trolly started to shake .
Baked Alaskas were fried like a steak .
Amid all the wailin'
In strolled Sarah Palin
" Vote me in and I'll give you a break " .
I awoke in a lather of sweat
At the characters I had just met .
With a sad sorry weep
I went straight to sleep.
"Snore it off , Seán , that's as good as 'twill get .
Perspired by Carolyn's , Limerick contest ....
Bass fishing on nearby creek
trying new rod I bought this week.
Got plenty of lures
that really ensures
a big catch if I don’t need to leak.
Creek waters are moving real fast
I’m not sure my bladder will last.
Got lure on the line
it’s reeling just fine
but deep water I failed to cast.
In an anxious and manly haste
a true cast I timely displaced.
Latched on to a nest
where hornets did rest
full bladder no longer encased.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Fifth Place Winner ~ "Contest Limericks About Fishing” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Freeman
May 27, 2011
Forgetful moments, hair thinning,
Memories fading, ears ringing,
Hands wrinkled, boobs drooping,
Knees weak, words looping,
Silver top, hot flushing,
Bladder weakness, loo rushing,
Bones tired, sleeping less,
Couldn’t care, such a mess,
Eyes blurring, tummy tucks,
Getting older, really sucks.
A little man stood at Heavens gate
with a sad look on his face.
He explained why he wished to enter
such a Hallowed place.
St Peter loosened the golden chain
and slid open the silver bar,
then listened to the story
with the big gate slightly ajar.
Please hear my tale of worldly woes
the fellow sadly said.
I ask that you not turn me away,
but grant me eternal joy instead.
When I was only nine weeks old,
I fell out of my pram,
and ever since that sorry day,
I've been in jam after jam!
I had whooping cough when I was one
and chicken pox at two.
German measles also laid me low
and once I had the Asian flu.
My legs were broke in a car crash.
My skull was cracked as well!
When there was a risk of falling,
it was always me who fell!
I've spent six years in hospitals
with many kinds of ills!
I rattle when I'm walking
cause I take so many pills!
My wife ran off with someone else.
My only son was jailed.
My wages were impounded
for promises that failed.
I fell asleep while smoking,
the consequence was dire.
The firemen got there pretty quick,
but couldn't put out the fire!
I lost twelve jobs, I lost my teeth.
I also lost my hair!
In course of time, I lost all hope
and only found despair.
Then I hit the lottery!
Three hundred thousand bucks!
The mailman found me dead from shock,
ain't that just my luck!
St Peter said "Come in my friend
and share a greater fate".
"I can't " the little man replied,
"My foot's stuck in the gate"!
His bad luck didn't end right there,
cause he heard St Peter tell,
"If you don't know how to play a harp,
you'll have to go to Hell"!
AMEN
Forgive me please and don't berate
My dismal voice when I narrate,
The many poems I've written well,
To bring to you my tale to tell.
I like to write my thoughts in rhyme
And find I have an easy time,
To form each stanza with a flow;
My words go smoothly to and fro.
Then comes the time to say aloud,
The words composed to a small crowd.
My voice will crack with croaks and gasps:
A rusty gate, it swings and rasps.
New England twang with words that clip,
Come squirming through my palsied lips.
I envy Brits posh english speech.
Their phonics cannot be impeached.
I practice lines a hundred times,
Until they sound just barely fine.
Then try and try and try again,
But still I reach that faltered end.
So bare with me in my attempt,
To narrate words in voice unkempt.
I'll forge ahead and not give up,
To spout my spiel and fill your cup.
In penning this, yet speaking that;
It's better left where it was at.
On pages written to be read
And not aloud with angst and dread.
An angel formed from
lake of purity,a gift to
mankind-illuminating
darkest parts of hearts.
A chaste damsel,
untouched rose from the
garden of the elves.
Sent to earth,made an
abode in a gentleman's
heart,whom she
cherished and loved.
As time travelled,another
fella whom she trusted
lured her to un-saintly act
Her pride laid on altar of
dishonor and infidelity.
Her life she almost
snuffed,she feared the
love of her true love
would be lost. Alas! bond
of love is indivisible.
Shattered,with a broken
spirit she tries to mend
the pieces....on the
shoulder of her lover she
leans,hoping to soothe
her bruised heart.
Note:
A true story,a close
pretty lady friend of mine
was raped by her family
friend yesterday...who
called her and told her
his mum was very sick.
She called me and
confided in me .
Don't know whether to
encourage her to call the
police.
My faucets run cold, what IS this about?
My hot-water-heater-tank pilot light's out!
Press down that red button and click 'til I pout
Then spew out a string (my religion in doubt)
My stove-top still lights, I can still take a bath!
Boil three piping pots full (I HOPE that will pass)
Teeter and totter like I'm walkin' through glass----
The stopper ain't stoppin', you STUPID dumb-ass!!