Limbless Poems | Examples

in the belly of the beast

you need divine intervention ~ look at me this walking miracle

said a limbless starfish to a half eaten prawn ~ gone hysterical

Uncountable

the living count the dead
the dead count the stars

lay the bodies neatly in a row
tuck the limbs beside the limbless
pick up
the headless baby parts
count them in

the sun burns bright
even the sky sweats

at night
there appears to be
too many stars
many of them are dead

uncountable

Cutting Away What Was You

The past was like falling asleep..
The awakening was a never ending
night of terror...
The pain in the ocean of piano keys
is a scale never in tune..........

The knowing of never knowing how,
makes you leap into the place of no past
present or future....limbless I wait...

The numbness of eating one spoon
of my mind
at a time never getting full never running
out of grey........
brings some joy...I cannot remember your name
or your face are you sure
it is not a mistake, here at the door of no knocks.

Roofs with no air lined scarred holed to many
found that exits...... while awake.
I lay watching as I must I am told, While another slice
of the pie which is I, grows cold........

James McLain Friday, April 10, 2009

Google poetry James McLain

Tanka

Tanka

Marilyn Monroe
I loved her greatly
I wedded a blond
She spoke with a scouser accent 
When her roots turned russet.

Arm dealers look out
When walking on your green lawn
Watch out for landmines 
The mad horde of the limbless 
Are seeking a bloody revenge

River Stones

they live now
in layers of motion and stillness

a fret sawing wind
a chaffing river
have shaped them

limbless bodies
turned upon
a lathe of time

glints of starlight are in them
eyes blinded by too much
of light
or dark

blue veins leach from granite pores
synapse
with bloods tingling clamor
with fingerprints

a molten world
drips green algae
upheavals whisper
from an unending past

a stone thrown back
finding a voice
in an uttering splash

Scorn

Come Armageddon, only she will survive,
Crawl through destruction, though limbless, alive.
Civilization now crumbling to dust,
Detritus that slices, so deeply unjust,
treacherous terrain bears the anger and hate
Of society's true nature the dead did create. 
And on her arrival no pain does she feel,
Immune to her wounds, for the flesh ones will heal,
But full is her heart of despair without end. 
She heaves herself upright her message to send
And yells down the crater to whom she knows not,
"Come on, mother er is that all you've got?"

The President - 2003

The dark suited man
smiled confident he was right
limbless kids think not

March Stew

Mornings are littered
with gnawed husks,
charred mouse-tails. 

March is burning its strew.
The limbless
braid a thawing earth
into knotty threads.

On wet lines flannel shirts 
poach in a warming smaze. 
while gust-hogs 
still attack the hedgerows.

In coddled kitchens
muggy boiled cabbages
envelope 
a pottage of sky.

Stubby snuffles 
herald undertows 
of new marrow.

April paddles in
with wet crumbs 
and buttercups.

Independency

I remain motivated to subsist my presence amidst no regrets,
Nevertheless, this implies my shadow that ages hence begets,

I appreciate it obeys me amidst enough dynamic passion,
Ergo, this remains irrelevant unspecified acts of digression,

Because this implies the enthusiasm from my heart that it shields,
As remaining controlled every day within amber wheatfields,

Drives my psyche placed divided somewhat wedged discord,
One soothing touch is proffered amends transpire my reward,

Consequently my limbless crippling, towards blinded and muted,
Faint to teases, sightless to exploitation, rash being viewed,

There's an extraordinary bandage concerning this hidden me,
Regarding this while implemented it embraces most tenderly,

Empowers my fortitude, and encourages my girth--it rises,
So the fakers, bogus makers, sham friends in disguises,

My heart is all I require, for I walk, touch, hear, and see,
My heart, my friend, my complete INDEPENDENTLY.


2019 September 18
howmanysyllables
16 x perfect 13's = 208 syllables

Imagined Pins and Needles

Imagined pins and needles
Hobbling my swarth
Homes sweet hearth cradling your whim
The sound and safeness of home farmed hands
The vastness invites in colour hued
But shadow and soul will not conform
Stepping over limbless torsos of people falling to pieces
Devil shunned faces turn inwards
As outside stays outside

Crazy Love

drives me crazy like a limbless behind a wheel.
Yet I've told know not much of how she feels. 
it does not matter when my eyes are onion peeling.
as long pots are filled with gifts that she's eating.

when I hold on,
she digs irrelevant potholes.
and expect my motion to flow flawlessly.
if I hit brakes, she press acceleration carelessly.

then set boundaries and limitations.
one's that cease full expressed love n affection.
one's if I stay, would never share true devotion.
and live a regret love life until occurrence of my pension.

If I jump out of this crazy love,
She would cry to our man above.
like I am a raccoon n she an innocent  dove.
well  crazy Love,  I linger not to end You.

her heart I intend not break.
like vows I will stay for one's sake.
even if my heart dangling at stake.
I shall drown on this crazy Lake.

Brexit Sonnet 16 - Diverse Woven Strands

Brexit Sonnet No.16
‘Diverse Woven Strands’
 

Our embroidered story, with boundaries crissed and crossed,
With boats and men ‘o horse in serried rows.
With comets, relics, hawks and battles lost
And headless, limbless men this fabric shows.
Some say it t’was the Kentish Saxon hand
Whose needle rudely stabbed the linen cloth.
Others swear title stems from William’s land;
But time flows by and quenches warlike wroth.
So histories fused, and diverse woven strands
Are spun together, strong and future proof.
A Nation built on history’s shifting sands,
Woven under Europe’s very roof.
   Treat it well this cloth of ours to share,
   Break not the warp or weft on Brexit’s snare.

©Keith Murphy

A Poem -004

A poem, is much like
a dream come true.

Prior to its conception
the poet feels like 
someone or something 
is within-as if  
a limbless entity, a touchless kiss,
a lust free urge is touching you, 
kissing you, hugging you, embracing you,
fingering at all the strings of the heart.
lacerating all the veils of desires,
licking all the tenderness within,
gagging all the chaos inside- 
the locked corridor of the soul.
And here starts the nausea..

The first vomits initiated-
Sign of impregnation
And the idea enters
The poet’s womb.
Now the poem is conceived.

A new sense,
a new feeling
a new essence
spreads through, throughout the labyrinth 
of the whole existence.

A Wile and Away

Now, I won’t say I love you no more
-not like I could with a straight face before
I’ve already reached your rotten core
To those spaces no one cares to explore

Benefits far too lost to reap
Lie upon lie you add to your heap
Like a limbless horse, like a worthless creep 
Them disasters don’t make a peep

No they show in your every strive
In every worm you deprive
You the baked potato—I’m the chive
The fallen bit—the stricken thrive

I ain’t so peach n’ cream no more,
I’ve a wile and a way to the floor
I’ve kept all your ashes in store
And your whinin’ is making me sore

Yeah in that hellhole, delving deep
I find your wayside fib too steep
Downward I’ll plummet—you’ll weep
As the Lord I pray my soul to keep

Your dirty heart, it’s like a pitfall dive
Down a fire of pity and false drive
Aching to pull those ghouls into your lie
Till they bury themselves alive

Stupid Poems 6

yellow lines 
on black roads
dividers reflectors
broken white eggs
limbless man crossing
the road in heavy traffic
blind is leading the dog
breathing machine stopped
i am awake
good morning

sep 16 2016
6.51 am

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