Limped Poems | Examples

chiropractors are not the same

chiropractors
they are not the same
some are miracle workers
others make your soft tissues cry
one worked on me for minutes and my migraine left
I limped out of another chiropractor’s office unsure if I could walk
My back felt broken; I was in severe pain
This was the last one I ever saw

Parasocial Relationship: What Remains Is the Latch

I’ve kept the bone-ash circle open—
chalked in wax traced from your last reply,
the one you coughed out sideways
between a mirror and an echo,
Just to reiterate, it read. 
(Though you’ve unsent it now—
the smoke still mouths it back.)

The salt forgets which door to guard,
whether you're enemy or friend.
My tea leaves knot themselves
into nooses. The knife won’t keep
its edge unless I say your name
with my mouth full of soot. You know
who you are. 

We only spoke three times—
I still remember your laugh. 

I burned your coat—
the one already nicked at the cuff,
lined with lint and one of my hours.
The smoke limped east,
then circled back.

I still leave the latch loose.
Not for you—
just in case
some ghost with your gait
remembers how
my spine once knocked
like a drum left running.

Where the Suburbs Meet the Sea

“Where the Suburbs Meet the Sea”

I walked again where I began,  
past fences worn, where gum trees ran—  
but now the tide had kissed the land,  
and waves rolled in like time unplanned.  

The house was there, but changed in tone,  
a quiet shell, yet not alone.  
The breeze had salt, the air was still,  
the sea had climbed the outer hill.  

And there they were—my loyal kin,  
tails low, eyes soft, worn thin within.  
They didn’t bark, they didn’t run,  
just looked at me, like “What’s begun?”  

One limped with iron in her paw,  
a bolt where nature used to draw.  
Not cruel, just… wrong, as if the past  
was patched too quick, too hard, too fast.  

I knelt and cried—I didn’t speak.  
The pain was old, the silence deep.  
I whispered love into the air,  
and felt the stillness start to care.  

No fixing now, no need to mend—  
just sit beside what doesn’t bend.  
To hold the ache, to stroke the fear,  
and say, “I see you. I am here.”  

They faded then into the blue,  
not lost, but freed—returned, renewed.  
And in their place, a softer me,  
stood where the suburbs met the sea.


Lev

The Old Beggar Woman

Her struggling gait and wrinkled face 
Reflected grief for her dead mate.
She’d lost her family at great cost 
Before she entered society’s lost.
I passed her every day on streets 
And thought she was a deadbeat. 
She did not have delusions grand 
And only craved a kindly hand.
She limped her way down city streets
With no one’s help and nil to eat.
She had no home and widely roamed 
Before she spent her nights alone.
Her shrunken frame and knotted mane 
Hid the fact that she was lame.
She struggled for her every breath
And every day she cheated death. 
Ghosts like her die alone
And no one hears their final moan. 
They fade away like apparitions, 
Victims of Man’s blindered vision.

No Hate is Certainly Working

I was glad to escape the school run by demon spawn 
thrilled to extricate myself from this hell-hole
disengage from a hateful situation
distangle myself from the mess they call normal
I am pretty sure the students feel the same way
Their “no hate” campaign is working.
Brain research shows that if you say “don’t climb that tree”
a person must picture themselves climbing the tree
before they can visualize not climbing the tree.”
No hate is certainly working.
I limped out of there in a listless spiritless way.
Unable to save anyone but myself.

One of Those Days

This day didn't go as I planned
In fact it went wrong from the go
While tilling my land with shovel in hand 
I chopped off the tip of my toe

And to make matters even worse
I don't want to sound like a cryer
But while I was gone, I left the stove on
And saw that my house had caught fire

Now you might think that I'm lying 
But this is the god's honest truth 
As I limped to the well, I tripped and I fell
And knocked out my favorite tooth

After everything that's transpired
There's not that much left I can say
It's renowned, what goes up must come down 
So I think that I'll call it a day

Circus Escape

We circus animals were extremely tired of the ringmaster’s sass
They gave him the wing, the spit, and their nod said the ass.
A duck, a dog, and a tiny bear on a ball ran away too.
The ostrich limped out, for he was wearing a cosmetic shoe.

My Connemara Filly

“Dammit,” he cried
“I’ll never get you clean” 
For what he had seen 
Was nothing but mean

“Come on over, now, here’s your feed” 
As the pony ran over
With a great deal of speed

Her leg limped
Over a hard patch of ground 
That was by no means good 
At least the rest were sound

She was covered in dirt 
From head to toe
She rolled in the soiled grass 
All that mud was a foe

The majestic white coat
Hid deep underneath
The only thing bright
Was her freshly cleaned teeth

The show is tomorrow
And there’s no time for fun 
“My Connemara filly,
What on earth have you done?”

Fast Thinking, A

Juveniles are likely the ones to do something stupid when the police are in pursuit. Climbing on railcars, parked where the lumber yard and stockyards are served, on a late spring evening as a self-imposed dare is something fun to get away with. But when your friend reports that the cops are coming and you scamper towards home, the adrenaline surge fuels stupid maneuvers. An abrupt U-turn at the edge of a building, I swung my left leg and made full-throttle contact with the rolled edge of metal feed trough resulting in a bone-deep gouge along my knee cap. I limped home, lifted my pant leg to see the blood stream being soaked up by my sock and to my surprise I rather calmly announced to my mother that I needed to go the hospital.

Happy Hour

the cripple limped through the crush for his tipple - with nary a ripple

February 14, 2023

Trump Train Wreck

yesterday
watched men try to ride 
in some graceful fashion
a flying, spinning, gyrating, horned beast
for eight seconds
probably should feel sorry  
for the exploited beasts
but none of them grimaced in pain
and limped away cradling 
an injured limb
however
there was this weird, 
hornless, white as snow "thing" 
lurched out, fell back on the chute,
reeled and tipped, almost falling,
then it bucked, finally
too late for any good
red flagged when he stumbled
out of the gate
that sorry freak of an animal
is half the rider's score
if he can't do his part
it's a re-ride (on something better)
correct for me 
to pity that poor creature, 
I know–but––really?
his name was Trump Train
I'm gonna go find an election prop
and bet all I can wager
his namesake 
doesn't survive the primaries
Trump Train 
yeah, right
more like
Trump Train Wreck

Default Positions

Nothing hurts more
than the blunted arrow
the grazing punch,
the half-slur.
Insinuation
from a sibilant slander 
whispered to a sleeping cat
haunts many ears.

She was a woman dammed to be
a love for me. My curse
was to desire her.
We were a cage-fight for passions
yet in the end
no one was hailed a winner,
we limped away
damaged by near misses.

Nothing stings
as much as a sharp pen
made to snap and scratch
upon a blank page.
People will read,
peer between lines 
that are not there.

Swear they knew all a long
we were flailing beneath
a hurricane that had no eye
and a storm that had no teeth.

Conversation With Weirdy Cat Guy

A gargoyle fell off the top of the building and landed on my toe.
I screamed like an injured bobcat, loud, long, hard, with a glow.
The neighbors all came out and stared, but this was the city.
They turned snickering, and ran off; the scene was not pretty.

One old guy came over and said “There will be a bill for that.”
He was pointing to the cement gargoyle who had ears like a cat.
You think I pushed this thing off the top letting it fall on my foot?
I was irritated now. Also it had left a trail of ugly black soot.

Your tennis shoe is ruined; you should have known better, he said.
I knew right then that the old guy was bonkers in his skinny ole’ head.
I shoved the gargoyle off my foot and told him to shove off.
Then I noticed his ugly smile and his strange little weird kitty cough.

“Hey”, I asked this Weirdy Cat. “Weren’t you married to my sister?”
“Could be,” he replied."I married many." He is a strange little mister.
Oh, yes, I thought, this was one of hers for sure. He is so odd.
I limped off, not looking back after pushing the gargoyle off my bod.

She Was Dying To Have High Heels

As soon as you are seventeen, her mother said.
You can wear them to your graduation.
She was thrilled the day she got to try them on.
She tried to pirouette, but it was not graceful.
You will get used to high heels, her grandmother said.
It was a lie. She never got used to them.
They hurt her when she walked.
They pinched her toes.
She could not believe she ever wanted them.
She wore them twice.
Once to prom and once to her graduation.
Her feet limped with blisters for weeks after both.
She never wore them again.

A Nativity Scene

The sinking sun left hurriedly from Bethlehem,
Leaving a dark chilly sky without any clouds
The town was overcrowded with many people,
The smell of sweat reeked every where, no place to wash.

Late at night two figures limped into town dead tired.
The woman felt the pain for birth was immanent.
The husband knocked door after door but all was full.
No one was sorry for them and preferred to sleep.

Swiftly a star appeared and shone on a stable.
The woman riding a donkey sought refuge there.
The old man scattered clean fresh straw for the maiden,
And whist the man sought food and drink, she birthed a child.

The breath of a cow and donkey kept the babe warm.
Angels led startled shepherds to adore the child
Hosanna, sang from above heavenly music.
He was the King of Kings. born to save all the world.


31 December 2021

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