Best Wormy Poems
Stayed
in the sun
to long
today
The skin became like the bark of a tree.
The soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
My face
is a pile of
old owl bones.
Sewn into banks of midnight creeks.
Even the plump, over ripened ones no longer look at me...
If their tires were desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black.
they'd manage to paint a wormy, water colored smile...
Slide it through my barbed wired heart.
So long as I could spin the jack...
So I spin it until their potholes turn to satin.
Stayed
in the sun
to long
today
The mind has smoothed over like pebbles in Saturn rings.
A forgotten spice in the conversation of life.
An hour later the word snuggles up to me-laughingly.
Tomorrow or forever(whichever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside.
Until my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack.
When the mind was a great silky nest.
The face a flowered meadow place.
Where watercolors swirled all day,
the heart worms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the weeds,
till the jewels of memories soothe
every scar - every stripe.
The molten knots of cruelty.
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
Until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
to long
today.
Categories:
wormy, absence, age, angst, car,
Form:
Rhyme
I awakened about midnight in the middle of the day.
I was crawling swiftly toward you as I slowly raced away.
I hummed a merry melody that truly had no tune
As I ate my cup of coffee and then drank my bowl of prune.
The pot of beans boiled over upon the pristine ceiling
So I tossed out the banana and I ate the wormy peeling.
The cat was barking at me and the happy dog meowed
As I stood out there so lonely in the middle of a crowd.
The sun was shining brightly in a snowy blackened sky,
I was a girl so much in hate I wished I that I could die.
The wilted flowers were nice and fresh just as they ought to be,
The ugly ones you sent me from so far across the sea.
The postman brought the email that I had mailed to you.
He said it had no stamp and so he couldn't let it through.
I long so much to see you and to look in your brown eye
And I cannot wait to hold you and to say a sad goodbye.
If you want to read my letter, please do call me yesterday.
I cannot wait to see you so please take the long hard way.
My daddy said he’s happy to give you my eager hand,
The one that’s always begging for his money, understand.
The guests are now arriving in their wrinkled, tattered rags
And the ushers have been drinking rare champagne from paper bags.
The musicians have their bag pipes out to play a cheerful dirge.
And I'm waiting for my bridegroom from his boudoir to emerge.
The honored guests are seated in the front of the back row
And the flower girl is directing everybody where to go.
The preacher stands beside me as I search the smoke filled room
For a candidate who's better than is my intended groom.
You know I love you more than all the pimples on my face,
As I claim you as my husband in your denim dress of lace.
Oxymoronica Contest by Kristen Bruni 13th p[lace
Categories:
wormy, funnyhappy, me, girl, happy,
Form:
Rhyme
vivacious roses pose
in air
oxygen free from the stem
arising like balloons
resurrection of rosies
blushing brides at peak
before their spoiling
before their mistreat
their passionate gowns sweet
wormy stems
await greening apples
Eden’s eschew
the ladies wave bye-bye
preferring the troposphere
fear of flying
ain’t there
angels, palms up,
invite their climb
up golden stairs
heaven is a lighthouse
waves crash on dry and crusty land
petals fall like rain
dowry to the grooms
wives look nothing like the brides
kites tied to home soil
desperate for heaven
a few grooms
smooth
the bed
water the roots
the rose thrives
2/24/2021
*Salvidor Dali’s Bleeding Roses
Categories:
wormy, marriage,
Form:
Ekphrasis
Wulf they called me; they called me
long ago, in track and fathered field,
muscled and thighed for the dash to kill
and share the beating blood, the quarry’s
stumbling heart
yet I have kin too, and brave the arrow
and shot you send; nay giddy lad your prey’s
yourself, in your eye’s window, and the wind of
fell and moor, bows to no man, no brother of the
cub, or sceptered raking horny club;
see tis the moment of wind, and bloody fur, that cuts
the screaming cat and rabbit to fearful death, and warms
the wormy hearth, the wulf-mother’s den; the spirit
so nourished yet rushes on, into the black minds of men.
Categories:
wormy, nature,
Form:
Free verse
A misconception is the tale
That we should dread October's spell
It's time to wear your scary faces
For cloudy nights, and creepy spaces!
Mummies stretch by light of day
Ghouls in shadows want to play
Ghosts, behind the pillars, peek
They practice wailing, tune their shrieks
Spiders weave around the room
A wart-nosed witch will mend her broom
The cauldron cleaned with spit and shine
Prepared to hold a drink of slime
With tasty toads and wormy molds
It boils steamy brew that's bold
Graveyards readied, dark with gloom
Bats in belfries wait for doom
No need to dread the harvest moon
All Hallow's Eve is coming soon
They've all worked hard to be prepared
Join the party, IF YOU DARE!!
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For Linda Marie's Contest: Creatures of the Night
By Carrie Richards
Categories:
wormy, funny, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
The Ancient Odyssey of clubs to bombs
from red ochre handprints on cave walls
to the destroyer of worlds
is a long-traveled road with the wormy flesh of war
and blood-soaked fields
where wailing tears of Mothers fall endlessly upon the Earth
as footprints vanish from battlegrounds over and over
and barriers are built to hide behind
leaving silent confusion standing as sentinels
guarding the internal workings of the soul
that clamor in times of plenty
and hide in times of hate
locked in the mortal human shell
pacing back and forth in prisons of their fears
finding man has not changed
trapped by bridled thinking from the past
frightened by new worlds, new faces
whose dreams become nightmares
trampled on by those who've become mummified flesh
dressed in cloth ranting in unison
believing in things that exist only in their minds
like ghostly shadowed imagined images
as they travel through the portal of time
creating new battlefields, where flies and crows feast
on the dead
before their names are etched in stone
covered over a thousand times by new fields, new stones
in a continuous thread
from red ochre hands to the destroyer of worlds
Categories:
wormy, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
Get Your Dr. Seuss On! Contest
Sponsor: The Seeker
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A FAT SNAKE???
Snakes are squirmy and sassy and naughty,
snakes are wormy and creepy and haughty.
They sleep and hiss and eat all day,
they creep and miss their feet to play.
At the zoo I met a snake big and fat,
Mr. Bleu was let out by the pig and sat.
Vertebrae with a long tongue to scare,
from Paraguay sung a song declared.
Mr. Bleu eats rats and sheep and cows,
a new peacock trapped in a heap by the bough.
Last night I heard a Wild-a-beast cry,
his fright concurred the snake’s feast dry.
He preferred moist meat not old jerky,
he heard the Hoist speak happy and perky.
“You fat ol’ snake get out of this zoo!”
But he sat on a steak, that cruel Mr. Bleu!
He stayed and snacked on a poor giraffe,
he laid on his back all sore and then laughed.
“I’m fat and don’t care what I eat around here!”
He sat and stared on a seat without fear.
Too bad that the green elephant ol’ Mr. Trick,
was a sad marine irrelevant and quite sick.
He turned to Mr. Bleu with a face of disgust,
so stern and threw up with haste so robust.
Mr. Bleu got squirmy and his sassiness died,
he knew he was naughty and with hissiness cried.
“I can’t believe you’d do that to me!”
Mr. Trick wouldn’t leave and stood by the tree.
He stumbled over to the cruel Mr. Bleu,
his tummy rumbled and knew it was true!
The naughty snake shriveled up and retreated,
so haughty and stayed belittled and defeated!
Date Written: May 25, 2016
Categories:
wormy, children, silly,
Form:
Couplet
Dirty worms squirming
Excavating with instinct
Wiggle brown wormy ~
Shoveling thick dirt
Accidently cut a worm
It wiggles in pain
Categories:
wormy, animals, children, funny, nature,
Form:
Haiku
“What are we when we are not...?”
MAN: A malevolent master making mountains of a mindless mass...
A meaningless magician motionlessly manipulating many minds...
A mating monster majestically magnifying materialistic manoeuvres...
A Machiavellian macho muscular merciless mentor...
A mutilating medieval malicious menacing Minotaur...
A mesmerizing metamorphic methodical maniac...
Woman: A whimsical weeping wacky wasted wanderer...
A whiny weaponed weathered wedded wife...
A wicked whiskey wasteful wiggly wench...
A wintry whiplash winded wrathful wroth...
A worried weary wishful wispy wild wire...
A wretched wormy woeful wounding wolf...
March.01.2016 ^WW^ Nothing personal...lol
Categories:
wormy, analogy, conflict, dark, evil,
Form:
Alliteration
A few moments after a hard summer shower we went to get the mail.
It was something in which my son, his dog and I certainly could prevail.
A trickle of rain ran down the drive, something not to be ignored.
With a splash, splash, whomp, whomp, he sent the water really far.
Heaven forbid that raging torrent should wash us away you know.
So he stood in front watching, making a formidable dam to stop the flow.
Then a leaf became a boat, sailing rather quickly down the drive.
He stayed in front, mesmerized, and then he finally watched it float on by.
With fascination on his face, he watched the trickles’ every move.
Then a burly frog came up, a monster king, that from the dog quickly flew.
The dog had saved my prince you know, from imprisonment in yonder pond.
For the frog was the villain, and within every good story, one must be found.
The hero became my prince, as he saved several lowly worms that day.
The worms of course declared undying loyalty, as on higher ground they lay.
In fact, the whole of the wormy world voweled to help him, that day henceforth.
And you never know when the wormy world, will be needed to sally forth.
At this time we found the mailbox, and my little prince quickly became engrossed.
My neighbor and her daughter were getting theirs, so my son hid behind the post.
When she smiled, he smiled back. A truce between kingdoms, now we could boast.
And they ran together that day, to every puddle that we did not find remiss.
At that point it became apparent, that the prince had found his little princess.
They lived happily ever after in the sun and in the rain they couldn’t resist.
And all because they’d found each other, that day in their Realm of Rainy Bliss.
CSEastman Contest:Litle Kids Again Child: Preschool (3?)
Categories:
wormy, adventure, best friend, boat,
Form:
Rhyme
When Mother Eagle returned with her wormy swag
Each of the eaglets grimaced and gagged
"Eat that slimy thing?
You've got to be kidding!
We'll wait and see what Dad bagged!"
7/29/11
Received 6th place in "Pure Thoughts on Nature" contest
Categories:
wormy, nature,
Form:
Limerick
My curvy bouncy young mum bump
Of unjoy pump by punk guy jump
You wormy crony cuckoo cyborg of my numb womb grow
My ovum mock your wrong grown coup
Go mourn by of onyx orgy you grow
From crummy mob of gory cum you bourn
No cub run cry mummy for you my young unborn
No young curvy bouncy puppy boy by norm
Upon gun my coy gown for fun won
Now burn or bury my crow cow born
Categories:
wormy, childhood, funeral, mum,
Form:
Verse
you are in your car
you’re Mrs Albert Camus
taking that last
train ride he never took
an envelope steering about your
jiggering fingers hesitant scared
of being committed to the mail
you’re the muffler guy driving your mudmade
stationwagon with backbigend
dragging like a pensionedoff
bellydancer’s rump with rhinestone shale of cirro
cumulus dustcloud dirt roads selling wormy turnips
to anyone who’ll listen
mouthing mail chute an abyss a sound
a leap of faith an absurd essay for meaning
so u turn
& turn again about & she’s gone
surely as if it were she lost to some random automobile
and not you to the attempt
Categories:
wormy, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
April showers
thunder on varnished woodwork
wormy fine dining
Categories:
wormy, funeral, tribute,
Form:
Haiku
Returning home is always a bitter path.
Some say it’s warm and soft, it’s healing.
These words are said before the aftermath
Which brings an acute pain, which’s drilling.
It smashes down the soul inside your ring.
All thoughts are apposite to you in this rebellion.
The mind’s infected with a memory sting.
It yells that there’s the other side of the medallion.
Every cute moment is shadowed by sorrow.
This crow just flies turning all into dark
The way you’ve done, the way you’re living now.
It’s darken, eaten by a wormy mind shark.
But there’s no need to be afraid of this,
Cause in the end it leaves a white sheet.
It’s like a rubber cleans you with its kiss,
So you become a man without wormy mind ****.
Categories:
wormy, anger, change, depression, grief,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue