Best Wriggling Poems
From
Winter's
Fertile womb
Spring leaps newborn
Joy filled daffodils
Ribbons of rose sunshine
New music trimmed in lilac
Wrens and robins return the song
And savor wriggling joy like fat worms
Fragrant fantasies spin on silver rain
Categories:
wriggling, spring,
Form:
Etheree
CRAZE DURING FOOTBALL GAME
Up yellows; greens; reds and blue,
tell me! Tell me, who is through?
Passes. Crosses. Headers. Shots.
Volleys, blasters, more scissor kicks
tell me! Tell me, whose on the spot!
Ninety minutes with some overtime
eleven players playing in the field
each one targets to be World Champ!
The strikers and defenders immense
so are Audience claps, dance, rants!
Dripping sweat from turning, running
Tension rising! Twists are rocketing!
Audience wriggling, nonstop cheering!
Thriller, action, comedy plus tragedy,
Oh all are drawn by its classic drama.
Perplex hard attacks, clever corners
rise from a penalty or free kick yell!
Elicits an alarm to goalie keepers' eye
He in eagle's arms and kangaroo leap
Tell me! Tell me, has one scored a goal?
Around the globe, fellas or gents in craze,
amazed and tantalized by Football game!
_________________________________________________
Written 6th of July, 2018 @ 10:46am
Categories:
wriggling, appreciation, football, love, sports,
Form:
Blank verse
May you soar on eagle wings, high above the madness of the world.
~ Jonathan Lockwood Huie
American Spirit
As eagle swoops at break of day,
talons cling to wriggling prey.
Having hunted and found his quest
he soon returns to guard his nest.
Shimmering cliffs that brightly shine
from rust colored monoliths high,
Create golden treasures
within the sunset sky.
The scent of autumn's in the air;
chill of night falls fast.
The eagle soars through clouded sky,
his kingdom won in triumphs past.
6-2-20
~First Place~
Spirit Animal Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
https://www.spiritanimal.info/eagle-spirit-animal/
Isaiah 40:31 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
For generations, Native American tribes have associated the Eagle with vision, wisdom, and strength. The predatory spirit animal symbolizes taking responsibility for one’s actions, healing nature and treading lightly as a matter of respect for Mother Earth.
Categories:
wriggling, animal, bird,
Form:
Rhyme
I rose not like flower or like tree
Not like eagle's hubris in the sun
Old skin shed in the divided city
Last clone of a manhood almost done
And so I tasted the salt that lingered in blood
When the sea was pushed to the edge
And the land was wet and squirming in mud
I was in the litter of its self-knowledge
I know my city better now, where met
The passions of my birth, life is beautiful
But shallow here, much to regret and forget
But I will exhume me from the bountiful
Shallowness and litter, I will my heart
To the silent stars and write my life
In words of truth. Montego Bay, let me start
In you, the doldrums where the fear was rife.
It was not the wind, but the fire that sent
My mother descending through smoke of tears
Along the pavement hard without lament
And her three children pined at crowded stairs
My brother was swallowed by the city's mire
My sister's drug was her desire, she called
Eight from her flesh to mother's feast of prayer
Thank you God for your mercies that enthralled
That's context now, while I bleat my life
From the ghetto's battlefield to stable and school
Something provoked my hunger and strife
Something led like a pen along the edge of a rule
For I have smelled the cordite fumes of death
And the magic scent of ganja on slum night air
I from school have fled and gasped for breath
Along a street where splintered blood appeared
So I dispense this news for you struggling child
Wriggling sand to walk out of my burning shoes
Soon I shall strip away the mask pile by pile
Promise you will dance, dance slowly to my blues
I give you more than wax feathers for the sun
For old Sisyphus by labor endless was worn down
And did not see the rise sinking to the run
In each man's failure another man's victory abound.
Categories:
wriggling, history, life, philosophylife, me,
Form:
Verse
so last night I was just sittin there, right?
and outta nowhere this huge, like,
demonic-millipede devil-thing
was right there on my computer desk, like wriggling towards me -
- ...well not nearly as bad as YOUR desk always was - oh my!
that thing was a pile of travesty!
- yeah yeah. anyway,
the thing about it was how random it was,
ya know, like, both of us were just doin’ our own thing,
then BAM!,
we were staring at each other.
- I just sat there really still.
I wanted a peaceful resolution to the whole thing-
- ...but yeah, I guess I knew that wasn't going to happen.
So at some point it just freaked out,
weaving around the dishes
and papers or whatever.
So I waited for a clear shot
and when it was near the side-edge, near the book-
- yep, your old bookcase,
which, I might add, you NEVER USED…
- so ok, I eyed it up, ya know,
built my courage, slipper in hand,
and when I attacked
it was a direct hit
and this thing just went nuts,
like spazzed out, twisting around on itself
and, get this, it actually JUMPED across the gap and went somewhere in there...
- I know! and I was NOT about to go poking around
for some vengeful godzilla bug!
melt me with laser eyes or something…
- …but, yeah, isn’t that just a horrible feeling? like,
is it still out there?
is it alive?
it's gonna come and get me when I'm sleeping or something, ugh.
- …but the thing is, ya know, devil bug or not,
I actually hope that it didn’t suffer.
- …Yeah, I mean, did it deserve it? No.
It was just this unfortunate situation that neither of us could control.
- ...you know what it reminded me of when it jumped?
remember those mathematical knots we were so into? - ...
…yes. Before you left.
Categories:
wriggling, lost love, loveme, me,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Crawling along the sidewalk,
his tiny legs wiggling along
with his wriggling, squiggly body,
he creeps me out!
If he survives the elements
or the stampede of hard-soled monster feet
upon his too-soft squishy body,
he will perform a disappearing act!
Spewing sticky strands
from glands near his mouth,
he twists himself into an ugly shell
hidden and hanging from a common twig.
Shedding skin, he slowly reveals
his chrysalis self.
At last,
his inner beauty, that rare beauty in disguise,
will have changed before our amazed eyes
into the colorful radiant wings
of a splendid butterfly!
Written Jan. 4, 2016 and pretty much my only free verse so far this year!
Categories:
wriggling, insect,
Form:
Free verse
waking up from my sleep, I was all confused.
I heard a boom as that of thunder,
or the sound of a hammer striking on the anvil.
trying to be up, I felt as shaky as a fawn,
getting up for the first time on its stiff unfolding legs.
heart began pounding, body trembled.
fear hung like a heavy cloud
and panic gathered like a storm.
am I dead or alive?
am I in a gorge or grave?
grim darkness all around.
my torso wriggling in acute pain.
my limbs refusing to budge.
I grow exasperate under arduous strain.
my memory fails, body rails
what’s that weight, I feel on my chest?
am I pushed down into hell?
or buried under earth’s rocky crust?
am I dead or alive?
am I in a gorge or grave?
have I fallen into a deceitful trap?
or caught unawares in a hunter’s snare?
am I sinking into an abyss?
shall I ever be freed from this mire?
* * * *
now I remember, having gone to bed in peace,
but the night turned abruptly wild,
with an earthquake of what magnitude, I don’t know.
sweet sleep suddenly turned into a nightmare
and joy got thistled into fright.
fortunately, I was saved with minor injuries.
the rescue team did a commendable job.
but I see devastation all around.
tremors had rocked the night, wave after wave,
rupturing and displacing underground plates!
the ground wobbled, buildings crumbled.
fortunately I did survive, though shaken to my core.
but how long will it take to recover from the night's trauma?
Categories:
wriggling, angst, confusion, destiny, scary,
Form:
Free verse
Easter
Anointed Eternity
Rises up above the paschal dawn
Heaven’s wounded Prince returns to outshine glory
As the sun blushes – witness to His splendor –
Waters from His wounded side christen crystal springs
With flowing purity
And bloodstained rocks harmonize
With angelic “Alleluia!”
Sung at the top of their lungs like an angelic whisper
Next to the return of his voice.
Light explodes the unclean corpse of darkness
Remembering the lyrics to “Gloria!”
Floral trumpets blare sweet incense
Only a wispy scent in the aromatic frankincense
Of Resurrection’s perfume
As skeletons of the impotent offspring
Hatched by the insomniac serpent
Leave lifeless trails of petrified tears in wastelands
Blooming now from shattered halos.
Emmanuel and mortality
Savor manna’s wriggling ecstasy -
The wine of risen victory -
More abundant than nascent radiance
Life consummated through covenants perfected
In pierced sacrifice,
Echoing like whispers of bridal rejoicing,
Earth’s revelry but a shadow in His footsteps
Of triumphal glee –
Glee only a sigh next to His touch
Felt again,
Embraced as heralds open
Eden’s gates and Heaven’s portals
In forever without time.
Categories:
wriggling, easter, jesus, joy, life,
Form:
Free verse
Veritas Vincit
the elusive goddess of the mind and soul couplet
a revelation of who we are, what we believe,
all that we imagine is or should be conceived;
born on the rising of the sun
holding moon glow in its captivity run
a complex menagerie of starlight within the cosmos dominion,
universal relinquishing of fictionalized wordings and opinions,
a hope, desirous dream, endless entity of fact from fiction
formalized false narratives of time and space interval diction;
it struggles, writhes in the turning and tossing window
foaming ocean waves of misinformation, lie, innuendo
there is no escape of twist or twitch spoof
squirming, wriggling the pathways of lie and truth
obsessive view in the eye of the beholder's solidarity,
is there hope, is there the possibility of a new reality
it truly is, as it really exists in a hidden state?
in the end, history will write what we dictate
someone's vision, another's reality
the hope and dreams of a future giving life and liberty
and freedom will take sail
only if
the truth prevails.
Sparked by Margarita Lilico's Latin Lessons
1/10/2022
Categories:
wriggling, age, america, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Watching a movie ('Walking Tall')
I spied a cockroach on my wall,
crawling in and out of sight,
the proud homeowner's sorry plight.
Now I see him, now I don't,
a creepy feeling, and I won't
feel better till he's dead and gone,
deeming it a job well done.
The kitchen was my battleground,
I chased the bugger round and round,
('persistent' was the name I christened
my thick-skinned antagonist),
for dodging footfalls he'd survived
the era of the dinosaurs,
avoiding conflict he'd outlived
the perils of unnumbered wars.
Tired, and soaked with perspiration,
craving his elimination,
I, with magazine extended
dealt a blow, his life was ended.
Or was it? Wriggling in his death throes,
wiggling several sets of black toes,
on his back he scarce could right
himself to carry on the fight.
Yet more he fiddled, then was still,
an adversary with a will,
he lay quiescent on the rug,
that bold, defiant little bug.
I left him shaken, (his demise
beyond salvation?), then my eyes
beheld no insect, just a stain,
for he'd crept off to scare again!
Categories:
wriggling, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Darkness laid around us like a blanket
Consuming us in its womb
She was crying
I was quiet
Crickets chirped softly in the distance
Her face was buried in my chest
She was shaking like a small child
I felt numb
She was sorry
The moon looked down upon us
I thought it would be different
I thought I would be empowered
She thought it would be different
She thought she would be free
I rolled her softly over
I sat up to view the night
She curled up in a ball
Still wriggling with remorse
Patting her on the shoulder
I lit a cigarette
Categories:
wriggling, confusion, love, sad, sorry,
Form:
Free verse
Watching a movie ('Walking Tall')
I spied a cockroach on my wall,
crawling in and out of sight,
the proud homeowner's sorry plight.
Now I see him, now I don't,
a creepy feeling, and I won't
feel better till he's dead and gone,
considering it a job well done.
The kitchen was my battleground,
I chased the bugger round and round,
('persistent' was the name I christened
my thick-skinned antagonist,)
for dodging footfalls he'd survived
the era of the dinosaurs,
avoiding conflict he'd outlived
the perils of unnumbered wars.
Tired and soaked with perspiration,
craving his elimination,
I, with magazine extended
dealt a blow, his life was ended.
Or was it? Wriggling in his death throes,
wiggling several sets of black toes,
on his back he scarce could right
himself to carry on the fight.
Yet more he fiddled, then was still,
an adversary with a will,
he lay quiescent on the rug,
that bold defiant little bug.
I left him shaken, (his demise
beyond salvation?), then my eyes
beheld no insect, just a stain,
for he'd crept off to scare again!
Categories:
wriggling, funny
Form:
Rhyme
Hello, my name is Mary
And I'm a giggle fairy!
You will know when I am near
just listen then you'll hear...
The sound of gentle giggling
The sound of my wings wriggling
It's bound to make you smile
If you listen for a while
I arrive when you feel sad
To make you feel less bad
I pour giggles in your heart
but this is just the start
I steal away your fears
and dry up all your tears
Then when your giggles start
It's then I have to part
but I'll return one day
With giggles all the way
Categories:
wriggling, creation, cute, emotions,
Form:
Light Verse
red streaks on maple
sunrise taunts the wriggling worms
a cardinal preys
blueblack of ravens
irridescent folded capes
peeking at sunrise
John G. Lawless
6/23/2020
Categories:
wriggling, summer,
Form:
Haiku
We lie back listening
to the popping of stars in their dark pods.
I fish for words
that are not raw and wriggling.
You smoke a spiral staircase.
The car keeps swaying in our heads
over a shock absorbing silence.
I know you are looking through me,
searching for love-bones
on a distant back seat.
Categories:
wriggling, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse