Crippled Poems | Examples

The Crippled

As a mother, Christ gave heed to the woman's plea.
For him, days of work or Sabbath days did not count.
From their selves, he observed, the human creatures flee
For eighteen years, the Book says, she was evil-bound.

She got bent by burdens of societal flaws.
Crude communal clouds had blocked drizzles of graces.
How long should she be clenched within crocodile claws?
She felt, at the advent of Christ, healing traces

Murmurs of cynics melted at Christ’s sunbeam smile.
Don't you untie your cattle on a day of rest?
His touch healed in the crippled all that was senile.
Feet of Times stopped for a moment, feeling blessed.

Stand straight; this is what, to all crippled, Jesus says.
The dissonants should get rid of their rude ways.

Leaf

Ah! There it breaks
On the ground soiled
Abandoned

Foolish foot tearing that unmissed
Not knowing the destruction
Lost

Once it lived up above
Now fallen down
Gone

Before it had a purpose
A bringer of life
Fallen

There in silent death
Now crippled
Free

Farewell to Poetry

I have inked my verses 
All day for so long 
Poured my soul in pages
But got nothing in return
For being a full time poet 
Poverty has ruined my life 
Crippled my very spirit 
Humiliation and neglect 
follows me everywhere 
My wrinkles and weary eyes
Speak of misery and destitution
So I have decided 
To forsake my pen 
Destroy all my works 
Delete from memory 
That once I was a bard
My verses will die with me
As I perform their last rites
Since writing has got me nowhere.

delicately crippled by cOnFuSiOn

A free verse/haikus

Abused and bemused
So taken advantaged of
Accused…took the blame

Amused by muses
Strifeful peace don’t mix too well 
Held on for dear life…

Crippled and confused
Delicately decaying
Bruised feelings…screwed loose…

Collapsed suddenly
Guess this is goodbye for now
Burdened — in a rut…

Cut down the ropes please
Tell me it’s okay…I’ll live
Give or take…at ease

Yet, I’m too nervous 
Too fearful of what lies dead…
Dead inside — anxious~

Too afraid to let go
Rather be dead than alive
Feeling so hollow . . .

Here’s two words I feel — 
Lonesome insecurities
You are a joy kill

I’m misunderstood
So? — you ask like whatever
Too good to be real…

Old

I'm old, I'm old
I'll die if I catch cold
I tried to skip
But snapped my hip
I'm old I'm old I'm old.

Crippled Ships

Neptune's net strikes on floating flames
Her souls sounding faint gossamer goodbyes
Ocean's octaves murmur mute
Dim dives to a regretful reef
Blue grief blurs, sailors say
In twilight tides, widows whisper
Their lost laments for crippled ships

12/19/21

The Crippled

THE CRIPPLED

Walking toward foreshore
I saw the devil seated on a fence
Fishing
Next day I heard he got a thrashing
It was intense
Blood trickled from his core
He would fish no more
Baby and Mommy shark were out to score.

*

Crippled Me

’ve been in dirts and seen the downs
I’ve continually been a verb and no noun
Refuse to help said lotus blooms in mud
But they scrunched me only in the bud
Fell down when stand apart from the row
Crippled me want you to let me grow
I’ve had a dream to visit the mountains
But they broke my sticks left eyes in pain
Plight of eyes got worse when it rained
When my velveteen clay bed turned quicksands
I lost my voice crying for help
And I started to wait for a slow death
That night only me got fortunate
I saw the horrible view of pseudo humanity
Flooded away my pride, conscience
Later but my broken sticks at prime
Here am going to get lucky lad
Another crippled will kick the mean world
Enjoying slowly dying to live peacefully
And elevated without sticks to get wings
Once couldn’t walk under the weight of miseries
It was a nightmare of me, they need not be sorry
Can’t see you with this height, today i got wings to fly
To be honest am blessed they did let me die.

A Crippled Sense of Confidence

Grown out of mindfulness or cowardice?
Black fruit: a crippled sense of confidence.
Torment to see the engine, powerless –
Stalled for fuel ne’er bequeathed by providence.

O, tragic fate of minion men as I!
Who would rather tell of themselves far less –
Do we fear the ego grown in the eye?
Or simply loathe failure without redress?

Ah, pride, so clever are you, foremost sin.
Hiding in the guise of humility!
I evade the race for fear I can’t win;
For could I lose – Twisted profanity!

Somehow, it must be learnt. That deadly loss,
Can’t come from me! There – The dagger I toss!

28 October 2019

Crippled and Lost

Prosthetic language can never fix 
  a Poems broken joints

Only inspiration can set
  the break for sure

Crutches and canes to prop up verse
  severely disappoint

Perception falling on its face
  —a crippled lost poseur

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)

On Crippled Cows

Bought a load of heifers some time ago
Was in late winter, with rain -- not snow.
On the trailer they'd been loaded fast
Tightly packed to ensure time would quickly pass.

One heifer for reason not known
Fell and was trampled upon.
Trucker asked what to do,
Said, "They're mine -- fit and injured too."

So, Old Red as she was named
With injured hip, was forever lamed.
Joined the herd as all cows do
And produced calves as was destined to.

Why not sell her is the question often asked.
And my answer is always fast.
Wouldn't bring a decent price for she's crippled
So guess she'll live out her life here, it's that simple.

Three calves and counting is the score,
All big, healthy and more.
She's paid her dues, and can stay,
What more can I say.

s

The Crippled Boy, Tommy Woodward

The crippled lad stood beneath the bell tower
Pulls the rope to ring the bell at the praying hour.
With each mighty heave the bell does toll.
along the street the congregation did stroll.

As parishioner's entered within,
all greeted with an angelic grin.
Determination written on his angelic face,
the young lad continues at a mighty pace.

In the little White Chapel on Maple Road
this crippled boy’s joy is bestowed.
In this small town of one-hundred and nine,
everyone knew that Tommy  was short of time.

Tommy Woodward born with a bowed back,
The congregation knew that as a fact.
Tommy would not let his handicap be a deterrent,
but hospital visits were a regular recurrence

On a bright and sunny day the bell ceased to ring,
While inside the chapel the choir  sorrowfully sing.
Slowly a solemn procession strolled out the door,
Tommy Woodward will ring the bell no more.

Crippled Soul

Why did you run?
Trapped in illusion with doctors and pills
Stretched to your mind's limit
searching for God
A daughter abandoned..love set adrift
Consuming books, seeking answers
Finding nothing but pages filled with words
that confused your thoughts as you split in two

You chose a coat of freedom lined with despair
to be worn in an empty house on an empty lot,
praying

Were you heard, when you cried yourself to sleep
after water and apples?

Growing thinner each gray day,
when you talked to your mind as it performed a play
You abandoned yourself as you did a life you gave birth
Where was the lifeline you could hold,
to free yourself from the world sinking around you?

They fed you medication for a crippled soul
and forgot to listen as you screamed
"there's nothing wrong"
while losing your grip on the last cliff of reality
above the valley of the unknown

A life filled with confusion waiting to be heard

No one heard..no one came..no prayer answered
only death
and the lonely pages of scribbled script
that quietly diminished with the hollow feeling
that you should have been saved
by someone

5/26/17
contest God Knows Where I Am

Crippled Mind

Labels,
  crutch for the unenlightened

Support system,
  for the crippled mind

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

The Bane of Able Men Is a Blind and Crippled World

The bane of able men, is a blind, deaf and crippled world,
Lacking in discernment, decorum and sincerity,
Wanting genuine gratitude, profound wisdom and propriety,
Choking on complacency, and adrift in a sea of avarice,
Void of foresight, and ignorant of looming calamity,
Full of men greedy for mere gain--like a mantis stalking a
Careless cicada, oblivious of the oriole behind!

Sighing, the sagacious seclude themselves and bide their time,
Waiting for better times.

 All rights released into Public Domain

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