Clutched Poems - Poems about Clutched

There is a beautiful life ! but it was not for me, to be touched. And that happy smiley life some of you strongly clutched. I hate it, then I remember in guilt, that you can, even with holding some sorrow so much. I would have loved to run ! but never fought, only lost to sorrows, and they got me crutched. (09.23.2024)...

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Yours truly borrows a phrase courtesy the great bard also known as William Shakespeare's Hamlet: "For 'tis the sport ... Hoist by one's own petard meaning "victimized or hurt by one's own scheme”. The aforementioned excerpt hopefully describes the fate to befall president of Russia. Nevertheless, unseen talon sharp claws... dig deep into mine psyche soft underbelly piercing bedrock of core (puss) being akin to butter knife slicing thru peanut butter and...

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We're down by two to the state champs, here we come ...

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bounty body blushing heaving hoisted hankering under tainted touch callous harmattan clutched felon feelings fostering damped desires drooling smoggy soles scrunching gaunt hands groaning laced lips whitening la-de-da limbs lurching voluptuous treachery vying indifferent services squashing damped faces drying nocturnal nature smirking.      20:01:04:11:17 ~Note~ Dedicated to this crazy...

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Unseen talon sharp claws... dig deep into mine psyche soft underbelly piercing bedrock of core (puss) being akin to butter knife slicing thru peanut butter and jelly unable to preserve an iota of calm, which eruption of cataclysmic agitation analogous to a bomb going off inside my head, where a mishmash of frenzied discombobulated brainstorming...

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Teeth clutched in furious fists, Miles high above the mists, Eyes thrust on identity’s this, A smile wandering far amiss. So this is the face of a simile, Resting peacefully in eternity, Here’s a figure of stoic rectitude, Reflecting over mass ineptitude. Of time I once knew, When my lady a sword withdrew, A flirt upon an ocular lance, Its mark on earth to live or...

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Time and again, life is as capricious as the current of air, yet right now, I sense a nocturnal, harmonious blending. The upper, black immensity is leaning over the sedated shore, night is lukewarm, timely, gentle winds are pleasing, the circular moon is distant, lit with a full lustrous face and hemmed in by spangling stars all about. Tightly clutched not only...

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