Best Wrenches Poems
Daddy brought it home to mother
She did not like it at all, in fact it made her angry
Those innocent tough spikey, sword-shaped leaves
Centered with white rosettes in tight buds caused anger
Today when I see those buds appear
I think of you~ Sadness wrenches my heart
You meant well and that Yucca has spread
There are many white rosette buds dripping dew and rain
You called it bear grass while laughing
Finding it in the woods you dug it up
Those rosettes still in bud waiting to open
Mother did not laugh~ she wanted a lilac bush
Years later I told my husband not to dig it up
Let it stay, memories flood my heart, mind and soul
Each spring when the spikes appear straight and strong
Loaded with rosettes of your laughter~ my grief wanes
Then joy fills my being because
Yucca's creamy buds remind me of your love and joy
How your emotions could change
When seeing the beauty of the simple Yucca buds
I think you were a poet and romantic at heart
I know this is not a quatrain but is more free verse.
Categories:
wrenches, emotions,
Form:
Quatrain
This One’s for You
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Wherever you are, when life seems hopeless,
And your scrambled essence screams inside out.
The pain wrenches it’s own form of anguish.
Head harrowing, distant dreams devoured
Fear asks, “Why me? Dear God, why me? Why me?
Stop!
Release the throbbing hurt; control moments.
Revive the tranquility once within.
Just for a moment, wait upon the Lord.
Let Him hold you. Do you sense His presence?
Never give up on God; share your sweet soul.
Look!
All around. See the wonder of Creation.
The beauty prepared for you. Please partake.
Preclude pain. Spotlight God for a moment
He can bequeath irresistible joy.
Never give up on God, spill your sweet soul.
Listen!
Permit the fear to disappear; hear God.
Cast off your pain in Jesus’ Holy name.
Listen quietly for a little while.
Hear Him; sense the mighty comfort He gives.
Trust His strength to help you and heal your heart.
Amen
Categories:
wrenches, depression, recovery from...pain, sweet,
Form:
Free verse
I close my eyes
locked in a millisecond
the moment before the bow
touches the strings
where silence has a tremor
and wraps me in darkness
until I hear its particles
vibrating against me
the bow wrenches
from the depth of the bass
a groan from the earth
as if waking a millennia of slumber
the first note
long, rich and haunting
now coming to life
now ready to speak
legs crossed and hands limp
pay attention
to the sources of discomfort
tension in the neck, anxiety in the chest
fatigue in the limbs
heaviness in the core
let this weight sink
pull down through me
melt through me
let it drag and seep
through my bones
until it submerges
into the ground below
transform to roots
connect me
grow deep into the soil
until the energy is revitalized
until I am reminded
we grow from this intricate system
no different from the forest and gardens
spreading, connecting, entwining
the earth is booming
the bass its voice
chanting, singing, commanding
a mantra in a language I don't understand
but with a pulse
I can feel
and it is telling me
I have all I need
visualize one by one
sources of emotional exhaustion
with each dredge up the full power
of all feelings
feelings long suppressed, feelings of fear
allow body and mind to swim
one last time
before I breathe in and blow them away
my body is lighter, sitting straighter
a tall blade of grass
swaying as one
looking across the field
up to the cliff's edge
and over the sunlit ocean
taste sweet scent
of wind
stretch to feel
soft earth
open eyes
to unending sky
focus
on what it means to be alive.
Categories:
wrenches, introspection, life, music, nature,
Form:
Free verse
A Letter to Myself
Should I give up writing
Seems all this bleating and wailing
Bemoaning this lot of love
I am allocated to feel
But never touch
Should I stop showing the world
Such a pitiful and pathetic face
As it twists and grapples
Dug in my heart
With its suffocating blade
Of aloneness
Where I am lost
When are the fluorescing lines
Of my gratitude
What are my words praises to love
With this eternal gift
Floating me in the fires
Of hot air balloons
But still gut wrenches out my soul
In this separation
“Come on,” I tell myself
What wrapped delight have I known more
I should be proud of my hunger
Feed it with all the imagined embraces
Just for her
More a rock I should
Than this wet dripping weak kneed flannel be
More colourful and joyous
In my need
In deliverance believes
Faith it should be
For the ever bonded
To such a fate
Allows my love to consume me
Her heart so tender
Must needs better of me
Than this whimpering sop
Who’s begging and pleading
Has no real foundation in my bones
More eloquent is she
More rapturous
Than the blazing anthologies of Isis
The hymn and rhythm of her
Calls to me
Shout of exultant
Piercing forever’s follicle
Permeable
She saturates
More a kin to glory I should be
More humbled
And less bent to paupers knee
To lift her ankle
And kiss her feet
Rather I should not
Die so
But
Live
Categories:
wrenches, loveme,
Form:
Free verse
this noisy head i live in
it just never quiets down
theres some motherf#@ker screaming at two am
about some unpaid bills or parking tickets
and some other idiot going on and on about some girl that left
somebody is allways throwing trash out in the common area
little bits of some ancient relationship
small parts of some old mystery
just want to tell em all ''will you all please shut up"
stop that godawful freakin racket
some fool on the roof shouting poetry just when your drifting off to sleep
another idiot in the basement throwing monkey wrenches in the works
always somebody causing some kind of ruckus
just want to scream
"can we PLEASE get some peace and quiet for five minuets"
this crazy head i live in
i want to move
to some nice quiet country house
where you never hear a sound
peaceful with birds chirping
where i can get some rest
not this confounded noisy head i live in
not this apartment building of lunatics i call a mind
Categories:
wrenches, america, for her, funny,
Form:
Free verse
This banyan tree on the wayside pasture
boughs cradling the nests secure
the birds of blue return,
verdant foliage making shade serene
the scorched travelers rest awhile,
the tree revels in pride.
The winds of harsh time take the toll
gaping trunk wrenches the soul,
defoliated, the skeleton stands stripped.
The birds don’t return,
the travelers pass by,
in sorrow the shadowless tree tracks the setting sun.
Until the storm comes
lays the tree on the ground it stood so long firm,
shovels scrape the soil, fills the void,
buries the last remains of its roots.
In the twilight hours of loneliness
as I see dark clouds gather on the horizon
the sound of scraping of shovels
returns to me louder and louder
from the empty pasture
where the banyan tree once was,
and I wait for the storm.
March 7, 2019
Categories:
wrenches, analogy, death, sorrow, tree,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes, life just fractures into pieces
Too many to put back together
Time is consumed with a lot of work
Often falling into circles going no where
Striving so hard for solutions and peace
As turmoil wrenches the heart and mind
It is easy to fall and hard to get up
It's not easy to see the beauty once there
As problems and the healing are priority
It's as if a veil is between conflict and peace
You can only do so much, when others don't
So many things take waiting for to happen
While time speeds and you feel stuck
What was once inner strength, feels weaker
You yearn to feel light as leaves fluttering in breeze
You try to slow down with the sound of wind chimes
You wonder, if anything that's done is ever enough?
You even wonder if you've lost yourself?
Memories return of joyful days and pleasant places
It all seems so long ago, so very far away!
You wonder why it's so hard to reach now?
How can it all be so far out of reach?
Walking on fractured pieces of life each day,
That feel like footsteps cutting your feet
And you wonder if things stay out of reach,
- Will they ever be the same - ?
Heidi Sand
5/31/23
Categories:
wrenches, anxiety, change, life,
Form:
Free verse
A writhing viper, spat venom through the air.
Its toxic breath compelled the meek to despair.
The wild, thunderous decree, forced them to flee.
Into hiding, to scrub away threats to liberty.
Next a gilded map was etched in desert sand.
It ensnared the weary to invest in promised land.
But floods and droughts devoured the pilgrim’s trust.
Milk and honey promises, dissolved in choking dust.
Turn the wheel, turn it round.
Don’t let rusty spokes break ground.
Push the wheel, push it through.
Hope is rising; Dharma's shiny new.
Brothers slay brothers who once held hands.
Now blood runs red, across the kinship sands.
Drumbeats call the masses to howl and obey.
Fighting endless wars for lies that all betray.
Incense burns with pungent smoke in eyes.
The priests lure the masses with face paint dyes.
Hallucinations reek crazy in maddened crowd,
With ancient voodoo curses read out loud.
The wheel turns slowly, its spokes begin to grind,
The darkened void of Aquarius haunts the mind.
The dark sky itself, tolls urgent alarms with a chime,
Counting down the dwindling steps of mortal time.
Yet from the muddy slime, a silver sliver arose,
It lifts the wheel that rust and ruin had froze.
It scrapes and oils the hub and spokes on the ground.
It wrenches Dharma's wheel round, round, right around.
Turn the wheel, turn it ‘round.
Don’t let the spokes break ground.
Push the wheel, push it through,
Hope is waiting, shining new.
Lift the wheel, lift it high,
Silver hands will pierce the sky.
Turn the wheel, turn it round,
Spin the wheel of hope, unbound.
Categories:
wrenches, angst, anxiety, deep, song,
Form:
Lyric
My car breaks down
I’m pissed, vicious frown
You hug me tight
You say, “It will be alright”
“I’ll fix it”
Wrenches, sockets
Bolts in your pockets
Smeared cheeks, grease
I hand you those not these
You lay on the street
Jeans and feet
My heart held captive
You’ve never been so attractive
Categories:
wrenches, husband, romance, thank you,
Form:
Rhyme
As I walk around,
I find:
2 windows flawless with absolutely no bugs, spiders, creatures of any kind
2 hanging blinds perfectly dusted and cleaned
1 red toolbox entirely organized by wrenches, hammers, and screwdrivers
1 blue toolbox with little sliding doors utterly sorted by nuts, bolts, and nails
2 shelves with gardening tools separated by size
3 boxes individually labeled “Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas”
and the reason for all this:
I am bored.
©Holly P. Moore
November 2012
Categories:
wrenches, funny,
Form:
List
Sound that brings
Back memories
Sounds that make
One cry
…From an ol’ music box…
Sound that tears
Tears from one’s eyes
And wrenches forth
Deep sighs
…Nothing quite like an ol’ music box…
No, nothing says poignancy
More so…
than does the silken notes
That softly flow
…From a music box…
That plays ‘Lullaby
And Good Night’
And tinkles down
E’er so slowly
Til wound again
…Up tight…
Categories:
wrenches, childhood, emotions, feelings, music,
Form:
Ode
We can smile like a child who does not know yet many things,
In simple things he’s satisfied, showing his contented feelings.
We can smile like a drunken man, feeling so drowsy and woozy,
Who sings and wears a smile , trying to forget and not to worry.
We can smile like a chimpanzee, who’s so happy with a banana
After giving us a big grin, we can leave him and write our stanza.
We can smile like my grandpa who dearly loves my grandma
Feeling Adonis with his strength, he’s never been into a stigma.
We can smile like blooming sunflowers on those summer days,
Despite the debilitating heat, we can still stand tall with grace.
We can smile like the sun that often shines so bright
Assuring that everyday you and I will gonna be alright.
We can smile and smile even the world sometimes wrenches our heart,
For sadness is a transient and in God’s love, He keeps us without a doubt.
You can smile just like me, who’s already experiencing a bad memory,
But I think I’ve nothing to worry about, for the computer does all for me.
At all times, you and I can wear a smile in any way we want
Infecting others to retain beauty, stay young in body and in heart.
June 24, 2013 4.55am
Second Place
Contest: Smile
Judged: 6/26/13
Sponsor: My greatest poet and sis, Linda
Note: Giving my best to make you smile by making it a little bit funny ;). Have a great day in sunshine! Big sweetest hugs!
Categories:
wrenches, funny, happiness, happy,
Form:
Couplet
I want a reason to live
My heart wrenches in pain all too often
Tears stream down my cheeks
Trembling lips
An urge to scream loudly
I hold it all in.
There are way too many thoughts swirling in my head
Dizziness and a feeling of loneliness
Creeping right under my skin
A mental breakdown is soon to show
I hold it all in.
Everyday I get closer to believe
Death might be a better place
For one who is nothing
but a hindrance to oneself
I hold it all in.
Thoughts of doing harm again
It is getting tough not to do so
Letting everything spill on the floor
The water stealing every drop away
I hold it all in.
Weights fallen drastically
Who notices, no one
Trying to be pretty
Who am I kidding?
I am nothing but bones
A shell yet full of too many emotions.
La la la la.
Mind not clear.
Eyes clouded.
Throat soar.
Body numb.
I want to leave.
Somewhere faaaaar away.
I am afraid of the day
I can not hold it all in
That day shall be
My Death
Wandering off to somewhere else
Fed with lies from all sides
I am Alone.
Categories:
wrenches, angst, confusion, death, depression,
Form:
now in his mind there are many gears
rusty but funtional.
they meter out the letters and create words
that may even form a Structure from time
to time.
iron oxide filled metallic brown bullfrogs
line up along the inside of his head.
synonymous with repetative lauguage but
they prove to be
good fishermen with poles made of
wrenches
and lines anchored with decayed
bolts and strange adverbs.
sometimes the rust flakes off his toungue
and
you can almost hear @#$% this not again.
but he is steadied by a cup of folgers dry
roast in a white styrofoam cup.
he is comforted by the fact that the world
has
coffee filled styrofoam cups.
this world cannot get by on mere
loaves and fishs he thinks...
now the lines have become to heavy and
grandiose they are ready to....
snap..
fall apart...
come undone...
perhaps the malaria has set in again he
got it from a metallic
mosquito with the head of a syringe in
juarez mexico.
in his delerium..
beside his delerium..
underneath his delerium...
he deconstructs ancient alphabets..
english..
greek...
aramaic...
phoenician ....
cuniform. .. UnTil.. aLL.. T.hat
.." is.. le,ft..is H&ro6lyphics^^.
he feels it is enough for now and grabs
the spray bottle...
Categories:
wrenches, allegory,
Form:
Blank verse
Infinite Love Slumberous Soul
~
Over the hill and far away my luculent love sustains yet another day
Thru valleys and mountain peaks my soul surrenders as heaven speaks
In Cupids arch and botanical bouquet, a ruminative rose begins to decay
Above landscapes and cradle creeks my spirit searches the love it seeks
~
In its punitive plunge of raging rivers, my love dries its tears as it shivers
Thru rapturous realms unseen my heart seduced by the quixotic Queen
In love, one receives the other delivers like the magic of smoke and mirrors
Within the jealous jaded green of wrenches in the marauding machine
~
Thus amidst the suffering sorrows, your love silently steals and borrows
Into the echoing eyes of sleep dimensioning dreams that soundly seep
With zestful zeroes, not even a zillion will protect me from falling arrows
For when the ambient angels weep my love is within the abyss of deep.
...theme/Over the hill and far away...
May.21.2018
Let Your Pen Drip
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Categories:
wrenches, absence, lost love, missing
Form:
Rhyme