Long Knotty Poems
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Gilded Crosses?
By Mark D. Stucky
Shiny icons gleaming on altars?
And hanging from necks on gilded chains?
No. Not back then…
Not golden, not metal, not shiny, not slick,
not smooth, not symmetrical,
not sanded, not straight.
Unvarnished, uneven, irregular, rough-hewn,
knotty, cracked, scrap wood
with hazardous splinters.
No sparkling jewels inlaying gold.
Just rusty nails
impaling flesh and bone.
No ornate mounting, no pristine pedestal.
Just dropped into a hole
and wedged with rocks.
No symbol, no sacredness, no beauty,
no justice, no hope, no gain,
no victory, no glory.
Just naked, scandalous, criminal, brutal,
with loss, sorrow, pain,
and inevitable death.
That is what a Roman cross was
and meant back then…
a death sentence,
an icon of horror.
Until…transformed
one dark morning,
when Light shoved stone aside
and sentenced Death to die.
(First published in Small Town Anthology V: Entries from the Fifth Annual Tournament of Writers, Schoolcraft Community Library, 2019, pp. 147-148. See also my related poems "Resurrection iBodies," "Darkest Night, Morning Lights," and "The God Behind the Curtain.")
(Image by congerdesign on Pixabay.com.)
I thought of you with love today,
But that is nothing new
Because I thought about you yesterday
And days before that too.
I think of you in silence
And often speak your name in my sleep
But you never notice though you sleep next to me.
Seven billion smiles around but yours is my favourite.
Your smile leaves me defenseless
But I never told you because you think I hate women.
I have been drawing zigs and zags on a sentimental notepad
Of unchecked emotions and mismanaged feelings.
My dark thoughts of horror nights on the red couch told me
To press mute on feelings and see how loud hurt sounds.
I am slowly becoming a violin with broken strings.
Each time they strike my chords the song is how beautiful you are,
But I am running out of words so I end up groaning in discord.
Your personality is a cast of characters unseen even in a mystery movie.
It is a collaboration of sanity and hurt;
Requiring the most careful focus on details if you are to understand.
Agnes, you are turning into a bad and dark thought I wish I never had.
You are a work of art;
I am not the first to say.
You are as beautiful as a Victorian orchestra symphony.
The gently formed and polished image when you stand
Is as unique as the perfect hands that assembled you.
You are a form of molten fire that erupts like a volcano
Each time my thoughts meet you in Dreamland.
Wired to the present reality,
You are Mary and I am Joseph.
We could make the messiah
But since nothing happens that first time,
We will make a James.
It would be a knotty outcome –
And truly I will love you much more deeply than I dare try to express.
Agnes, Maria was my crime,
You are my sentence.
Ace of Spades
gnarled hands ignited,
with the maelstrom of belief.
knotty knees do bend.
unseen, the heavens
opened up, did look beyond
the darkness of earth,
to see a pin drop.
ancient one, in the gnarled woods,
God is drawn to you.
the straw in haystack -
most dwellers go through back doors,
but she’s kneels in church -
with bent frame, eyes shut,
a prayer shawl around shoulders,
cold, yet immersed in light.
with lanterns, she joins
others in trimming their wicks -
firestorm of belief.
a humble leader -
behold, lifetime membership
in peaceful dwelling.
many are the weeds -
celebrate on holidays,
they’re pregnant with bread and wine.
she’s not at the bar -
look for her at the altar
with her rough gnarled hands.
on arthritic knees,
she’s closest to the Savior -
he sees her asking
and He draws closer
to see ev’ry tear that falls
begging “one more soul…”
Christ gives her what she asks for.
Eldest Daughter Bore Fallout, Sans Brunt Marital Contention
An article posted in TIME Magazine
(VOL. 193 NO. 19 MAY 20 2019)
underscored_impact progeny keen
to experience when parents mean
with one another, badmouth, critique demean...
each other, asper yours truly and missus,
who only recently declared mutual
surrender, sans wedded compact that did careen
nearly capsizing in the process
no need for me to narrate, nor hex spleen
hostility snapping, crackling, and popping
(momma mia), which mutual did not
benefit thyself, or the Punim Holy Holstein
such incessant antagonism, a free and clean
break thee smart as a whip breathing August
emotionally distancing yourself into empyrean
realm (accompanied with emmanint stalwart beau)
aligned, destined, inclined... far beyond Euclidean
plane into multidimensional realm
two peas in a pod poised to earn green
allowing, enabling and providing
modus operandi to maximize placid Mediterranean
cyber sea prior to kickstarting, embarking,
anchoring...sub bastion of reciprocal love
a steely dan sing omnipotent bond, protein
requisite in order to beget offspring
privy to discerning, a mama and papa
expressing high fidelity, akin to king and queen
enamored by progeny (should such fate manifest),
thus clearly my ill treatment of the missus
a tautly wrought Gordian knotty skein
unwittingly entangling innocent babes,
particularly thee first born, who sought panacean
in tandem with minding gruelling academic
schedule, hence congratulations weathering
animosity, depravity (mine), insecurity...seen
heard, felt..., though nary magic wand to banish
opprobrious misdeeds indelible corrosion
deep in your impressionable subterranean
psyche, which loathsome impact undoable,
but...this papa doth care there
wren lies the rub, a bird den Hamlet
himself defied triangulated, vis a vis scalene.
Inside The Mysterious Enigmatic Fragmentary...
Mortal Mind Of Matthew Scott Harris
ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!
Seedy gobbledygook ergot
visibly argot bubbled, burbled, bustled...forth
yea...give garbled, jangled, warbled shoutout
if ye doth render
mug gadabout totally confounding,
this unfettered voluminous confection
ruff lee in toto as sample
doggone freelance gargon
sublime red rover - misaligned with
twenty first century time
emerging, fishtailing, kvetching,
slithering, whipsawing
during springtime
thaw - oozing out primordial slime,
schlepping aboard bissel mishuga train
while kibitizing with longfellow
ghost hosts Bartleby,
thee Herman Hermits,
and Stray Cats caterwauling
scrivener circumlocution showtime
evidences troubadour prima facie
tremendous struggle rustling rational rapport,
ruminating, citing his dismal schooltime
track record muddled, and hence
questing to cobble a rhyme
distilling, harvesting, and
leaching (out pulpy, knotty,
Max Headroom Ancien regime
filmy... gray matter) in realtime,
while strains of Ragtime echo
from late nineteenth century
tin pan alley, nsync, linkedin
cubist, dadaist, existentialist...
mine poetic melange jerry rigs
flashes random discordant phrases
kickstarting hotmail...faintly
analogous to processing quicklime
mucking with abstract alphabetic
mire ranks as playtime
forging whimsical tactical trippy thoughts,
nursing eternal idealistic Earthly peacetime,
worrying away looming mortality,
noshing post death as pastime,
welcomes input and alien abduction – ME,
mine "FAKE" existence, sans charade,
facade, masquerade onetime pantomime,
no second act allowed, nor
revising questionable tour de force
I claim NO pièce de résistance, nor overtime,
asper waning game
of thrown away Life
approaches nighttime haven
soon...forever rest in peace
surrendering requisite burnt offerings,
sans (cremated ashes) - meantime
fete grateful dead
scythe lent hoodlums on warpath
to incite bedlam
postprandial mealtime prayer final -
deathly hallowed gleeful grimace
witnessing successful electroshock therapy
of yours truly emotionally frozen
decades long comatose state
thankfully oblivious, when impending
curtain call signals finis!
life knobby knotty
does not run smooth
but tangled in thorns, weeds-
winding twisting curvy-
complication confusion
perplexity on enmity
always to confront
with confidence and courage
accepting life as challenge
not always uneven
all along life does not show
dark charcoal night-
bright full moon also illumines path -
sometimes you can untie knots
though mostly get chained in shackle
yet not to give up
but to rise above
having patience to win
unfastening
unleashing
knobby knotty
life
"Serene is the green of the sculptured knotty pine, arms uniquely reach and none the same, with woody scent of heaven." Quote by poet
Knotty pine enfold in the sate gold sun
stands stunning in an arboreal view.
Bound by forever changing blend pale blue
pure air of homespun charm, unflagging none.
Upon the pine needle and pine-cones
carpet, dappled shade awakes most active
nature, from blackest more lord attractive
noble to the whitest of daylight tones.
Rhythmic chants echo veiled in sound and light.
Steps over roots and limbs nature does put
and silent subtle shifts that are afoot.
The howl's that calls of invite at twilight.
Yielding nostalgic sylvan scenery
natural quotient colour greenery.
Memories happy odd and sad ,
Are the roots of the tree of life ;
One walks in fancy robes clad ,
The other teases the suffered strife .
The pleasing one is comely and soft
While the irate other is full of pain ;
Recurring wild, broken images fly aloft
And re-form the rather missing chain .
The knotty, prickly vicissitudes burn
Or sting like flames or a venomous tail;
Time offers the apt panacea to turn
The gloom and ailment into hope, pale
Sweet and gainful events do stay
Within ,somewhere, refreshing forever ;
While the bruises and deep hurts may
Distress,and, the soul's resources, sever
The treasured pleasant picks of the past
Are soft and soothe the virtual sorrow ;
While the fall and ravages endured all at last ,
Harden and strengthen the stand for morrow.
English oak tree, named Quercus robur; though known as Her Majesty now
Named Majesty of the Woods; etiquette requires in my presence one must bow
Growing my branches outwards, thus enhancing the width of my canopy
Lifespan extended as I nurtured my limbs, stretching them horizontally
Its 700 years since my acorn was sown, as I slowly became Her Majesty
Supporting more wildlife within me as no others have my capacity
Hosting hundreds of different species whilst aiding biodiversity
Olden and ancient aged 700 years, my limbs now gnarled and knotty
Acorns grow great oaks you see ~ 10 million acorns just from me
Kerfuffles no longer occurring, decomposition is now obligatory
Written 1st January 2020
Contest: I am a tree
Sponsor:Delilah Ventura
Contest Strand Choice 5
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st PLACE
I absconded with reader rabbit (Peter), to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day
Ah Sheik Hog - Ho!
One "FAKE" Wingman
think Monty Python's
Flying Circus skittering
on thin ice - Skidamarink
a dink, a dink...
hither and yon, to and fro
Via O'hare To Dublin y'know
Cuz, The Leprechaun within
me, no spring chicken bro,
nevertheless oz offer friendship in toto
good day to thee with cheerful adieu.
Though nowhere to be found despite search team
loudly trumpeting thru depleting fresh air
supply terrestrially polluted atmosphere,
asper the unknown whereabouts, regarding
said royally titled quasi legally inherited bare
naked lady loving bastard oven heated affair
son last seen donning Herringbone Wool headwear
supplemented by Irish merrino wool sweater
and custom made Hemp (smoking hot) pants
informing observer with seedy, faux debonair,
and pseudo (reed "FAKE") suave cultured couture
clothing automatically camouflaging to disappear
without a trace, thee alluded to rival to the throne
(Irish to keep ye in the dark) like chocolate eclair
secret recipe (one takes to the grave), unless held
at gunpoint by bonafide Machiavellian consigliere
ruthless if necessary forcing captive to declare
high fidelity, indemnity, loyalty, et cetera to a
life of lawlessness adopting anonymous incognito
guise accepting bewig noggin with long knotty hair
tattoo skin with "FAKE" scars to accentuate fear
factor accepting (cryptic blood bonded) brotherhood till
death do you part loot, pillage, vandalize, et cetera
in a blitzkrieg effort (albeit violently) to repair
evenly distribute disparity between 1% and 99%
grassroots uprising (peopled with migrants) spear
writ ting their exploitation at the (Taj Mahal) bear
sized paws swiping at susceptibility, vulnerability,
inequality, et cetera series of unfortunate events
decreed, instilled, ordained clamped like ironware
shackling one generation after another, an outright
outdated, on par as anachronism, feudalism, stoicism
where stark difference between rich and poor unfair,
especially, cus the latter labor sweat of their brow,
which backbreaking toil essentially endows wealthy
at expense of grunt work signalling ominous nightmare.