A mangled man's
remains,
remain dismembered.
Scattered limbs
laid amongst the
litter.
Littered
ligament lies
amidst tense
muscle,
resting cuts
lay tender.
I really
try to not
remember.
This I
wish I
was lying about.
I can't
I magine
mans lying about.
Torn asunder, ripped
apart by chainsaw
teethed razor.
Rehearsed excuses
always sound best
on scratch paper.
Throw it away or
save it for later?
From behind ear
whisper bubblegum's
last flavor.
Hope all is better
before a blue
member come rapping
upon thy chamber.
They won't just go away.
It's best to
answer, then
answer what they ask.
Then they'll leave you
alone.
To go
about your day.
left in disarray,
disagree met dismay.
Where is the
line that
compromised game
last time?
Ties
The squealing of
the glowing ties in
my bottom chest drawer,
ties I seldom wear and
definitely don’t think
much about, spreads in
my knee to
affect the
lateral collateral and
medial collateral ligament; affect the
lateral and
medial meniscus; of course too
affect my
patella, femur, fibula, and
finally tibia. As a consequence, there are
days and nights I can’t
walk and
I can’t
thank them all enough!
When I was in high school,
I had a fall,
It was from a cycle,
but changed my all;
I had ligament tear
in my right foot,
Could not go to school, got
typhoid to boot;
Weak in my body and
stressed in my mind,
When I did go back, I
fell way behind;
I lost my life's purpose,
Despair set in,
I failed in my exam
to my chagrin;
Had a nervous breakdown,
Redid one year,
Mind full of sad questions,
Heart lost all cheer;
Today, when I look back,
I wonder why
such a thing was allowed
by God on high;
To teach me a lesson
about setbacks,
To increase my small faith,
In God relax;
I learnt to lean on Him,
when troubles come,
He taught me to stand strong,
not to succumb;
All things happened for good,
This I know now,
Eighteen years have gone by,
I've grown and how;
That phase transformed my life,
It was a test,
In hindsight, I perceive
God knows what's best.
Roses are red, violets are blue, pain in my sleep, sick like the flu. Double down on the love, can we have less hate? Everyone spread, everyone initiate.
Play the role of the sun, shine and influence everyone. Too much hate to come by, let’s sing a woodstock lullaby. If everyone took a second to stop and smell the fresh air, the negative hate wouldn’t be everywhere.
Look at the faces, the beautiful pigment, color everywhere on every ligament. Respect and peace is all society needs, to thrive and flourish not be bleak.
No more bombs, threats, or guns, take time to learn and love everyone. Violence spreads quicker than a wild fire, just a please and thank you is all I desire.
Smell the roses and execute the negative, smell the violets don’t be repetitive. Repressed feelings and emotions, let them out and let them flood like the ocean.
We could not think it
were it not yet a
part of us, a lethal ligament
of mental connection
a cobra of self
in the brush --
We must dare to go in
confront
travel beyond
if humanity
ever to out-right live
the Light-side of eternity....
I remember when my mother died.
I held the phone away from my ear
while the nurse ran through
her rehearsed lines.
“Gone” she said.
A strained ligament
of a lifetime relationship
finally snapped.
Mother you are deeply dug
into my mind now
much more close
even though you’re gone.
I knew then
that "gone" meant, never.
Brahms pushes a piano into my ear.
I hear the stool creak as he sits.
He does not introduce the music,
he expects me to remember it,
know it, eat it.
He lights up a Havana,
clarinet and violin cough
inside a woody cochlear.
Viola takes hold
of a long nostalgic ligament
loosening a stirrup bone.
Bearded old Brahms
shifts from one large butt cheek
to another,
chords shudder
the music trans-locates us
as we share the lingering hint
of Bratwurst
on his nicotine stained fingers.
Not being musically trained
I am grateful
to accompany a cello and viola
on a kazoo
shaped like a nose.
It was my first yoga lesson (after coaxing)
I was stretching every muscle in my body
Our leader was encouraging us, saying "Breathe!"
Frankly, I thought I was not doing so shoddy.
My sissified murmur turned into a loud gasp
When I pulled a fragile ligament in my heel
Suddenly, I felt this horrendous stabbing pain
A disgruntled sigh, I knew yoga was real.
I heard the leader whisper with a hint of scorn
As she stopped her eager class and took me aside
"Oh, I am so sorry you are hurting; I think
I will summon an ambulance for you to ride!"
As they were hauling me out of the studio
My entire left foot was throbbing with searing pain
The medical technician spoke to the leader
I heard her utter my name with thin-veiled disdain.
I never returned for another yoga class
A few of my best friends could not understand why
But I told them my experience with yoga
Would not merit another fortuitous try.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
written April 26, 2021
"Writing Prompt - Breathe- Contest"
sponsored by Constance La France
i want to be more
than a bother
to you
more than the
thorn or
torn
ligament that
stops
you
from being what
all above me
could ever
become
but to some
they say my sore
is the
worst that
i could in any
way could
be but i
hold
my tantrum as if
a secretly sacred
rain dance that
will
not by chance
bring down drowning
tears to
resounding
fits of sobbing
There,
the blush upon my cheek
brilliant red
evading my lips from speak
but sensations throughout my body rise
and love unsaid
is only delusion and lies
and every heartbeat,
breath, ligament and sinew
embraces the heart's obsession
over you.
Capture That Emtion
Nina Parmenter's contest
2/11/19
FOR YOU
This is for you, because I cannot reach you
For you because my heart is filled with you
You overflow me, every corner
Of me, every fragile bone
every elastic ligament
All of me is you
I write for you because you are so far away
That I can only talk to you in words
My hands can never touch your skin
My lips would like to kiss yours
I want your hands to push my chair
To touch my every longing
My brittle bones
This is for you, because with eyes closed
I hear your voice dancing around
I see your eyes smiling with mischief
I feel your kisses featherlight
And I cry, in painful knowledge
That this perhaps will never be
That you'll only be a memory
***
3d place in: Long Distance Love Poetry contest
Sponsor: Nicola Byrne
FIRE OPERATIE. (operatie is Dutch word for operation in English)
F ine matter in combustion with oxygen too luculent,
I ncandescent fire's poise flares up its ligament.
R esourceful if used with a well crafted stroke,
E nds up in its originality into a smoke.
Barbeque pomfret dances on the hot grill plate,
Fella operant is harum scarum,focus drifts to marr,
Fish a dish untowardly gets blackish straight,
Penchant of the palate now becomes a scar.
Water cycle disturbed,soil has furious fire,
Ex improviso calamities,lava,firestorms dig deep,
Diseases new to skin pop up,scorching rays conspire,
Greed of us if controlled,time again will reap.
Flambeau flickers soothing fire,inner heart purges,
So many wants wanted,this is what one urges.
Contest:Elements Part 4.
Sponsor:Brian Davey.
01/05/2016
JERKS OF JEALOUSY
Two thick n' lovely friends, friends forever type
Ugly poverty had its brutal curse on both of them
Thick n' thin of life, equally did they share...
Both good at sports, budding athletes of their locality
New contest announced, In prize-trophy, sports shoe !
Both took up challenge, preparation on in full-swing...
Motivation n' moral boost-up, coach and the trainee, both were for both!
Arrived the D- day - One lost , One won!!
This is the point where story takes a U-turn..
One who lost got jealous, best moments till date
dissolved and diluted.
Wicked jealousy corroded his mind like sulphuric acid...
In fit of jealousy burnt he the shoes won by his own dear friend...
Another contest declared in neighbouring town, winner friend said,
I won't partake due to ligament tear.. but buddy you have to win this time
The new shoes I won, you wear and keep it as my gift all yours!
Good luck my friend he patted and left, still unaware
about shoes' fate which he had kept safe in chest.
© Anulaxmi Nayak, 2015
What does it take to stop a beating heart?
To freeze the blood circling each organ?
To stop the music a steady rhythm makes?
What does it take to stop the changeless process of one’s lungs?
To cause their lips to spread and never let out another exhale?
To never allow oxygen to travel through their system again?
What does it take to take someone’s father?
To take someone’s husband?
To take someone’s son?
To not allow another glance to pass through from a loved one?
To not allow the arrival back home, after a simple “see you later”?
What does it take to watch someone relive their whole life
before their eyes observe daylight for the last time?
To fall to their end?
For every ligament and muscle to give out?
To be helpless and turn to dust?
What does it take to live after that?
To have a conscious mind?
To be conscious, period?
To begin again after ordering someone’s end?
Does it take away?
This is the making This is the
the making of something,
the basement of something,
the foundation of something,
something grand the re doing of
a young poet named Robert c
Bessel Jr., everything new,
as i sit back and start to build
this huge imp ire im restarting
from the basement,
the first step is placed with
granet finishing isn't even in my
mindset but
stamping checks now were
talking ligament business, so
getting the next is history what
history in the making is.
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