my large toenails shout their disregard for social norms
they are loud, proud, jagged with ugly norms
admiring their refusal to conform, I put them into sandals
they smirk at the disgust of the neighbors
waiting for smart aleck suggestions that never come
these plebes know me better than I thought they did
I tripped on a cloud and fell-a eight miles high
I tore my mind on a jagged sky
~Mickey Newberry, writer
Performed by Kenny Rogers and the First Edition, 1968
Acid trippin’
drippin’
big black letters
on a dead end sign
Deep dark hole
my soul my mind
crawling in
crawling out
Straight up
straight down
downtown
somewhere
Saw too much
blew out my mind
and I have no spare
so I just dropped in
Do you know
please tell me
what condition is
my condition in
Anyway
someway
your way
my way
Our way
someday
uncloudy
Sunday
There are edges Time leaves in passing
Some of them are jagged
A few edges are grey and badly torn
Sometimes the jagged are also distorted
and leave one puzzled, confused
Some edges can cause disquiet
And we begin to wonder where they were
Were they there all along and not noticed
Or, were we able to ignore.
Did we simply whisk them from our life
Along with Worry, Sadness, Fear
But, sometimes, when we look closely,
Grasping Time from its rushing
We will see colors behind the jags
lilac, red, green, blue, amber...
Some colors will simmer and pop
Some colors will magically glow
Those colors we would like to keep
For they are filled with Hope.
The skyline cuts through faded tones,
With moonglow blazing gilded bronze
And fluid my ink is interlaid
As nightfall drifts like a peace shroud
The glass pane teeters in the breeze
With my pen zigzagging on damp papyrus
I hear an old couple laugh on the alley
Their banter rolling , perhaps, of younger times--
Across them, a lone man trots, forlorn
His bent spine enduring road's travail,
Leading his wobbly feet to tangles of blooms
While egrets scuffle homeward bound.
My mixed thoughts wander at this picture show
...Receding off so gradually
From the tip- tap screech of cobblestones
To my pane's sill, fingers reach for verses
Where each day is a page to write new stories
About jagged yet sleek edges of time's folly
My hands sinking into tattered phrases, kneading
Recitals of life with unknown episodes.
The barbs she threw at him
left jagged edges on them both
torn from deep within herself
raw, bloody pieces of meat
hurled violently across the room,
the space, the endless time.
They cleaved to him, each one
slowly shrouding the man
until he became a prickly porcupine.
Some silent days, from weariness
would bring respite, closeness.
In intimacy, his spines
would prick her open wounds;
They could not help themselves,
They no longer had control.
And so they lived, or slowly died
behind soft lace curtains;
a bitter purgatory
on the jagged edges
of a new society.
The jagged edges tear apart
The cornerstones of her heart
Each day, there's an emotional dart
Thrown by her counterpart
The husband's venom impart
And sadly, she's his push cart
Where seemingly, she's his spare part
That he abuses with his mouthpart
She's fallen to her knees and kick-start
Thus, a bullseye that cries for a depart
For the jagged edges will never depart
But wisely, she needs to be smart
And distance herself from his blackheart
She yearns for smooth edges and a new start
In the end, she clears off her sweetheart
connie pachecho
7/31/25
J with Four Options Poetry Contest: Free verse
sponsor :Constance La France
Date:7/31/25
“Not all pain howls, some sharpens”
by poet
I never asked to come out clean
life carved me raw on purpose
some parts were shaped in silence
the rest I had to burn
not all soft things were meant to last
I watched them melt then vanish
while I turned thorn to anthem
and dressed my hurt in steel
you think I cracked but I evolved
I had to break open just to breathe
if I could trace the shape of my breaking
I might learn what it means to remain
still I stand here not whole but aware
jagged edges still holding what I could
I walk with wounds that never fade
but shine beneath the skin
my scars all lines of poetry
the world was too quiet to hear
there’s beauty in the splintered
when you stop calling it a flaw
Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.
Proverbs 16: 18
she stood tall on the jagged edges of the cliff
face worried as she noticed the rough seas
whilst above high dark clouds rumbled
though the sun shone straight at her face
could it enlighten her about what had happened
thoughts came and went, as she remembered
the letter he had sent her and wondered
was she deceived by her soldier and sister
he insulted her refusing to marry him
and she insulted him back vowing
she would never marry him come what may
still thoughts rumbled inside her mind
was he really proud or was she prejudiced
the jagged edges of a knife pierced her soul
could there have been some half-truths in his insults
she still hated him but admired his handsome face
facts churned in her head and confused her even more
could she face those jagged edges of truths
she turned and walked down the rough cliff
her soul lacerated with truths and pride
Placed 1
"Life levels off in importance. Days are no longer
jagged peaks to climb; time is a meadow,
and we move over it with level steps."
~ Gladys Taber
Her life is a page torn from a spiral notebook
whose jagged edges are tattered
She's bone weary and wears the haggard scowl
of a woman whose heart has been badly broken
There are jagged lines, wrinkles and creases
the kind that ages a beautiful face
where once his fingertips had left a gentle touch
her skin seems ravaged by sorrow
No longer can she peer into a mirror
none have been left hanging in her home
Into pointed shards they'd been shattered
in a moment of hysteria
There are no straight-edged lines in lost love
for the toll is measured in flesh
and the only traces of it left to recall
are memories that tussle her mind
There's an emotional mountain she must climb
jagged edged rocks will impede her way
but when she succeeds in reaching the crest
from grief she will have been freed
Natural things are rarely smooth
or flawless as they appear on the surface
Smooth fur on skin and curve on wing
are rough and jagged underneath
Push back against the grain shows true texture within
reveals bristling hairs and quill barbs of feathers
It's the grit within that shapes us
A pearl is smooth but inside is a seed of grit
We need the bumps knurls and gnarls to grip and hold
Slick things slip through silky wet and wanton fingers
Most natural things are rough at birth
Stones and gold nuggets are fractured rough at source
They're smoothed by wear and tear of sand rubbing in streams
Babies are smooth at birth but age roughens them
Humans grind away all day at nature's roughness
seeking perfection in shiny smooth and faultless
Blissfully they're unaware that
it's the faults flaws texture and roughness within
that glistens shiny the pearl
It's the bumps and gnarls outside that knurls the grip
Here I sit gun against my head
Praying that I will soon be dead
A life with many ups and downs
True love I thought would never be found
That's exactly what she brought to me
The endless love is what it would be
Now I can only watch the jagged line
As her health will slowly decline
We once ran wild and free
So much in life we wanted to see
Then things turned to easy and slow
What was coming we didn't know
Now I watch as it's all down hill
This the life that's completely real
Not sure how much longer she will stay
But I pray to God every day
Hoping that together we will go
I love more than you'll ever know!!
I gave you a box of giggling clowns.
To make you laugh during all the downs
I gave you a spray of golden fins.
To swim far away from your jagged jinn.
This cracked heart you'll never have.
For it has turned into a pulsing hive.
A bouquet of hornets at the ready.
To sting away your whitewashed lies.
The windchimes are chilled and quiet now.
Gone are the stingers and giggling clouds.
A pile of dust where there once lay fleece.
I pray that you'll straddle a ragged peace.
The ancient jagged rocks stand, like black sentinels along the waterside,
Protecting the land from the continuous raging tide.
They are perpetually black, either slicked with water or as a sharp silhouette against a blue crystal sky.
They dominate everything and are especially feared by every mariner that make their slow way by.
On their landward faces they offer protection from the wind,
And creatures shelter there, in a place where peace is so hard to find.
The tops are sharpened points, that seem to reach right up to the clouds,
The only sounds are the wind, the sea and the gulls screeching out loud.
These sounds are never ending they go on for eternity,
The sentinels just ignore it all and stand there protecting everything from the everlasting sea.
*For all people who struggle against adversity, deadly disease and oppression at the same time*
A bright mind wrapped in flakes of thorn
A heart that braves the scoff and scorn
A soul that wanders everywhere
It walks on hills from here to there
A body lamed and ripped and torn
It bears the curse since time was born
A rouge disease that claims its life
Its soul is caught in mire of strife
Alone in dark, searching its soul
Thinking of how to reach its goal
The thorny mounds on its rough skin
Defines the troubles it had been
In dark of night, it shuns the light
It is afraid of what is bright
It builds some pricks around its nest
To guard its heart from lurking pests
3rd place
Jagged edges of this morning,
clad in black skies dark adorning,
issues now it’s subtle warning
leaving living souls depressed.
Jagged are emotions teeming;
deep within, our hearts are screaming;
‘pon our cheeks our tears are streaming
with our sadness now expressed.
Jagged are the headstones wearing
names of souls departed bearing
sadness in those here still caring,
left behind with death’s bequest.
Jagged are my deepest feelings;
deeper still my thoughts revealing;
death now leaves emotions reeling
as we lay your soul to rest.
October 22, 2023
Elinore Catherine Gondolf
March 31, 1924 - September 23, 2023
Rest in peace, Mom.
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