Long Fractured Poems
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Written: April, 29, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
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Soulful manes croon gently in silence
The optimism has hidden purposes,
A single tear fell at twilight
A hollow howl where a grin turns sad,
A far-off display’s vibrant lights
shine brightly, a whole scene
A deceptive expression veils a faint spirit
Joyous laughter fills empty spaces around,
A fantabulous serve emerges with each play
A profound ache lingers inside
Tears brim in my eyes
They are on the brink of breaking
Tears stream down from the eyes
Of jesters.
Beneath the mask, illusions flourish
Joyful sounds diminish into sighs
Torn or intact glass won't vary too much.
The sadness persists despite time marching,
A quiet scream is in every joke.
Crowds crash against the shore,
Invisible chains tether his weary spirit
Painted displays conceal deeper issues
Concealed sobs of a jester
Lift your spirits.
Shadows sway under vivid lights
Fractured hearts obscure familiar patterns,
Phantoms emerge in the reflection
Untold stories are hidden within
Dimming stage lights feels distant
A painted smile masks weariness
In empty corridors, laughter rings out
Each dawn, the performance resumes
The mirror reveals a confused visage
Deep inside, joyful thoughts reside
Morning dissolves into shadowy midnight
Clown-like cries pass unnoticed
All react to a heavenly sound,
Captivated by the spotlight
Through the tears of a clown.
It’s a firework holiday,
so let’s light up the night,
wave the stars and stripes,
eat barbecue and drink bud light.
We’ll celebrate the liberties
that SCOTUS says we’ve still got
It appears they’ve all been bought
and before their terms are over
they’ll resurrect Dred Scott.
Watermelon, hot wings
we’ve even added new things,
like smash & grab lootings
and frequent random shootings.
Some Republicans want to break away
to form a less perfect union
can you form a successful nation
based on the politics of illusion?
There used to be parades
I’m told, that featured local
things, like fire fighting brigades
I guess we’re just to fractured now,
to sashay in such displays.
I bet those were the days.
.
.
Webster: Sashay = proudly walk in confident display
When Dad called me ugly, stupid
and worthless, as that little girl, I lost!
When my mother couldn’t protect
me from the cruelty and abuse
at home, I lost!
When a bad man came into
my room and frightened me
me as that little girl, I lost!
When my boyfriend blackened my
Eyes and fractured my cheekbone,
I lost!
When my precious dogs, Rocky and Brownie
died in my arms, I lost!
When a car struck me causing
me to suffer life altering
injuries, I lost!
When I received the call
Your Mother is dead,
I lost!
When I watched my loving and honorable
Brother, Jimmy succumb to cancer, I lost!
When I realize there isn’t anyone
Or anything else to fight for, I say to you
for one last and final time, I lost!
Ruffles of sand that flash before my eyes in every waking moment
Oceans of blue that briefly lift and meet mine
My plain, brown eyes, that would blend in the mud
And my clothes that never lose the scent of pine
Versus his hoodies and the gold chain that hangs around his neck
Or the glasses that come and go upon his nose,
His brain, or the fact he shares a name
With the boy who hurt me the most.
When I stand surrounded, I look for him
Watching the door, hoping to see his hesitant gait
And the way he shoves his hands in his pockets
Seemingly content to stop, watch, and wait.
When the day fades to night, and the crickets cease to chirp
It’s him who haunts me when I lie awake in bed
Replaying each little interaction
And regretting the things that i never said.
Every corner of my mind stays aware
Of how fragile our tether will be
If I allow myself to stare into those oceans of blue
A single wave would wash us out to sea.
So silent I sit whenever he comes around
The fear that I keep protects my fractured heart
Injured, but not quite broken
By a love that didn’t start.
In a room without walls,
stars lie scattered across a long workbench,
each one dimmed in a different way~
some cracked at the edges,
some holding a faint pulse
like a memory trying to stay lit.
Tools hang from nothing:
a hammer made of cooled starlight,
a spool of night threaded with silence,
a brush that leaves a trail
only the dark can read.
Someone
or something shaped like someone~
leans over a fractured constellation,
turning it slowly in their hands
as though checking where the story failed.
A soft sound rises,
not quite sorrow,
more like the sigh a myth makes
when it realizes it can’t return
to the shape it once held.
Pieces of old legends
glow on the floor,
still warm from the moment
they fell out of belief.
A wing, a vow,
a name that used to matter~
all waiting to be reassembled
into whatever truth remains.
And in the far corner,
a single star brightens,
not repaired,
not restored,
just choosing to shine
despite the fracture
running through its center.
In the mine of silence,
within the furnace of pain,
a burning soul, prepares for
a tremendous explosion!
The mantle rocks fractured
by the tremors of turmoil,
seething like fire at the
bottom of the inner realm.
Dust and ashes surged forth,
emerging to be blown out
as a spiraled ember gust,
that set the sky on fire!
Condemnation and omission,
Repression and oppression,
-what more is needed to splinter
the inner walls of a helpless soul?
The hidden defensive feelings
spewed out as soot and dark smoke. Suppressed hopes and cries
burst open the chinks of the soul
like a crackling fire!
The boiled over aches of the soul
scalded the unjust,
The outraged blaze charred
the unrighteous people!
Tears, thick with grief,
in the womb of the Earth,
melted and streamed as hot lava
to pursue the wicked, and coiled them
like a squeezing python!
The suppressed sighs engulfed them
like black smoke that suffocates.
As the fuming flames swallow them,
the fiery mountain erupted
for the salvation of that vengeful soul!
I stand beneath the heavy shadow of the my father's old chair,
my breath suspended, fragile,s s n g s l a n t i n g i n t h e a i r…
Molomo o sekamego, a trembling fault line,
where the truth twists sideways before it reaches daylight.
My tongue—a clumsy, tangled bird—tumble-stutters,
afeela raranya leleme le ea tlabana,
trying to construct a cathedral out of fractured air.
*ke leka go uta…*
*se ke…*
*se entseng…*
I lean obliquely against the crushing weight of his gaze.
Ke leka ho uta se ke se entseng,
holding back the tide of a boyish, broken secret.
Inside my skull, the psychological gears grind—
an architecture of guilt, an imbalance tilting toward terror.
*f a l l i n g a s k e w…*
*b r e a t h l e s s…*
*v e i l e d i n g r a c e…*
Nka re go swana le mehleng ya tate—
for in his era, every line was straight, absolute, unyielding.
Yet here I bend. Here I warp.
I weave a cunning lace of pleasing words and desperate flattery,
mantswe a kgopama, a patela bohloko,
framing an excuse to keep my tiny fragile universe from shattering.
*ke leka go khupetsa…*
*se ke…*
*se entseng…*
Ke thoma ho inama, ke theohela tlase—
descending into the quiet sanctuary of surrender.
I press my trembling forehead against his towering knee,
hoping the warmth of my submission will erase the stain.
Empa leihlo la tate le otloloha nnete;
his eyes are sharp geometry, piercing through my paper lies.
*s h a d o w s d r i f t i n g…*
*u n s t e a d y e c h o e s…*
*p u r i f i e d i n a i r…*
Ke batla go lokiša, go lekalekanya,
to smooth the crumpled edges of this twisted tale,
to stretch the distorted storyline until it lies flat again.
Moo lipuisano li ka papamalang hape—
where silence and speech meet in transparent, weightless harmony,
mme ka fumana kgotso,
and the fractured mind finally finds rest in his forgiveness.
Written: May 19, 2025, for contest by Edward Ibeh
Quote: "Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself." By Rumi
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As the seacoast swells, I'm the ticking clock,
Medusa’s buds melt wild in cosmic shock.
Too vast to trace the whisper of my touch,
Once shrieking in the gales I loved too much.
Leverage—a lattice of force spun soft in farms,
A catapult kissed from naiads and their charms.
I rise beyond the sigh of earthbound tale,
Folding time in saffron-sage on silence’s trail.
A crown of hours hides loss's jagged edge,
Each tear a fulcrum, each star a silver wedge.
Leverage: the sly magician’s unseen hand,
Lifting fate’s beast with a wand’s command.
Crawling on bone, I trade a dream for a wink,
An alchemist stirs fear in jasmine-gold ink.
Weight turns to promise in twilight’s brief peace—
A cog sonata in a galaxy’s creased crease.
Life glows as ember script, footnoted and odd,
A whispered nudge in thunder, kissed by God.
One key turns inequity into a lyrical code—
Leverage: the hidden root of the common node.
With empathy, patience, and a poet’s dash,
A cracked cup tilts, still spills its splash.
The braid unwinds when a thread is pulled—
And so the days dissolve, and the dark is lulled.
The wrong key turns, but never fits the lock,
A defiant glance becomes a harboring heart’s dock.
A single word, well-timed, redirects the climb,
A fulcrum set beneath the weight of rhyme.
Leverage, not force, moves all without loss,
Find fulcrum in chaos—smile wry at the dross.
Though bent toward stillness, the shift draws near,
Where regret finds voice, resentment clears.
A single seed, pressed into fractured earth,
By unseen hands, the coiled land finds rebirth.
One life uplifted by a lever’s quiet grace,
World seeks levers to lift my breathless space.
It's days like these that make question the purpose of it all
October summer skies, hot winds and the raging desire humans have to pretend the world isn't decaying from within....
I'm a pessimist by nature,
The sunset reminds me that one day we must all die
Some think of gold at the end of the rainbow, I imagine Hitlers camps with a thousand screaming jews drowning the chirping of birds in the air
But tonight is my moment of atonement,
In torch light I scribble my shortcomings in this my songs of songs
Suleiman asked for wisdom, I pray for a peaceful death...
Who wishes to end it painfully after toiling life under the sun in duress?
I'm not much for sentiments and romance, Atleast I've tried my best to appear so
Matters of the heart are fragile and my endeavors in these experiences sing an infinity song of this my fractured heart,
At this point I could easily work a night shift, for I have lost my urge to slumber, I am merely a sinking ship of lost dreams
A vessel of all the sins I wish my future sons get to evade,
An algorithm I iterate with sheer will with no terminating condition to be the man my future wife loves at seventy five.....
I'm a man of my own vices
I recite the nicene creed when I feel my faith slipping away,
Whisper hail Mary ten times when I need gather my strength,
And I get out of bed a little later..... What's the hurry in giving your body up to a decaying world?
Once, there was a father
Who loved his children completely
Nothing fractured or missing
Withholding nothing for the greedy
Everything flowed to and from
Without interruption or wrinkle
Til a child pulled back
Creating a hold that crinkled
....into time
For the first time, a new word appeared
MINE, it is alllllll MINE
Ownership grew quickly
Separating LOVE from mankind
Oh, how the father wailed and mourned
But he always had a plan
He took out his heart from self
And spoke it into WOman
...as a seed
The gift met up with faith
And created a child, Love without fear
Death chasing all involved
Trying to make LOVE disappear
He fought all the fears that swirled,
Around the lies, whispered by the snake
That "father" will always give
But he will also take, take, take
....whatever HE wants, whenever HE wants
As the LOVE heart walked the road
That brought him to the giving tree
The crowd gathered 'round, yelling,
"LOVE will NEVER have a home....here!"
He kept nothing for self
As water and blood poured from His side
Speaking, to the children, truth...
The snake lied
...to enthrone your fears
................silence.............darkness
.................................deep shaking
That took humanity to the end of days
Where we heard the message loud and clear
We must engage the LOVE inside
To fight and conquer all our fears
That Daddy God is selfish and unkind
Taking and making as He pleases
Our Daddy God moves heaven and earth
To pour our gifts that releases
....chains, shackles, and all binding devices
We are free to LOVE all who lack
Holding nothing for self, yielding back
The liquid LOVE flowing upwards to Daddy God
Never alone or forsaken on any road we choose to trod
Shall we miscarry our baby
With the belief that LOVE has spent its best
And He has no original LOVE
Only what is left
....over
There is no such thing as leftover love
With perfect love that casts out fear
He is always pouring out on us
Trying to draw near
...for a hug
......this father, is not a thug
............He is the God, whose name is LOVE
Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-26-2019
note: I don't like this poem, just like I don't like the feeling of leftover love.