Long Sluggishly Poems
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Alarm loud enough to wake the dead.
Need to wake to join the living again
Sluggishly climbing out of my bed to embrace the tasks of today
Feet hitting the cold floor, the chill forcing me to be attentive.
Shuffling across the cold floor to the kitchen, my morning coffee calling to me just like a siren's song.
Yawning, I blink the sleep away for another day.
Watching the machine
Coffee slowly brews with a steady, drip…drip…drip.
Patiently waiting, I get my favorite mug
Sugar and cream awaiting the boiling hot coffee, just enough cream to turn black to an autumn caramel.
I pour the steaming coffee into my mug and relish in the smell of the bold fresh coffee with its hint of nuttiness.
First thing in the morning, it’s like water after a walk in the desert.
Closing my eyes, I take it in;
Steam tumbling off, I lift the mug to my lips. With a slight blow, I take the first sip.
The sip tastes like perfection, almost making a moan slip past my lips.
Sitting in silence, I drain every last drop of my coffee as if it will be my last.
But who’s to say this should be my last.
Christmas is almost here
And just as I feared
Those ghosts came back
Even this year they appeared
Doubt came and sucked the happy from me
Smiled and sucked some more so greedy
Astonished I wasn't ready
My footing shaky not so steady
With an evil chuckle he zips away
The nightmare begins today
Sorrow slips in like thick goo
Sticking to everything even my memories of you
Leaving my soul heavy and blue
Then on cue
He sluggishly slips back out
It's gonna be bad never has sorrow followed doubt
I don't know what this is about
Then I hear the fevered shout
Anger came fast and with fury
Snapping and biting this time with a partner, worry
God I wish they'd hurry
As anger flares and worry sets in, the wounds are deep
Silence still I keep
Watching as my life is destroyed and my scars seep
Love dripping still not one peep
Love came forth smiling down
Not understanding why him, I frown
It didn't take long and the answer was given
Words seduce me reel me in
This is so much worse I seek my end
Only to fail again
Love cuts deep
Breaks bangs tearing nothing will it let me keep
Drowning in pain I can't even speak
Mind and body beaten and weak
Unbelievable that love hurts then at its worse it's very peak
On my knees I'm praying for the last visit to be him
I can't believe I survived them
My spirit dims
As I sit shaking weeping weak waiting for him or the return of them
Now just numb within
Why can't this nightmare my life end
The waves crushing her tiny body with striking blows
White creamy wash caresses her golden skin as the wave slows
Moving sluggishly towards the horizon
Because of a recurring vision she hopes she’ll arise in
Her feet digging deep into the sand as it sinks between her toes
Emersed, with arms folded she prepares and off she goes
The cool oceans breeze kisses her beet-red cheeks
It knows what she’s come for and what she seeks
Sunshine drips onto coppery auburn locks shimmering, it lifts
A pale honey-wheat straw sunhat spins away and drifts
Almost completely submerged in salty brazen waters
Compelled at this point with the nauticus mythic plotters
Shut against blaring sunrays are her deep emerald eyes
Her sunburnt face gazing up at vanilla skys
She meditates on what had before appeared, a glimpse
Of the siren with long flowing raven hair and other nymphs
Teeth chattering to tapping sounds like wooden castanets do
Contain her trembling lips she can’t, they turn purplish merlot-blue
Shaking from an Autumn’s cold spell, she imagines she’s a mermaid
But diving in opaque murky silt wasn’t what she had expected
Her bare flesh emerging from impure poisonous rot of green
Blood red ripples dripping from the clouds that are unseen
Neither she nor the fierce Cyrene, Apollos wife the naiad should dread
Numbing overcomes her at last she hears the siren singing in her head
Paralyzing fragments of her hallucination now bestow
A gifted sacrifice her (secret thoughts) needed for soothing waves to flow
In the distance a cranberry sun sets, now streaks of pink implores
A darkened blue-green sea, maroon and sapphire shores
A beautiful mermaid appears and thanks her for her secret thought
That only love for the deep blue sea (the ocean is life) and to all this be taught
A surrealistic silence hangs sluggishly in the air,
as I sit upon your violet clawfoot recliner,
sorting fuchsia dresses into melancholic piles.
An opal ring glistens while the sun drapes over your portrait,
reflecting splashes of kaleidoscopic colors on barren walls.
Dust cakes the creaking floorboards as I place belongings into cardboard boxes.
A faint lullaby gradually infuses this somber undertaking.
The scent of floral perfume permeates—grief crashes over like cresting waves.
The wind whips outside, rattling the bones of a bitter house,
while a heavy heart sinks, drowning in agonized saline.
Tin plates and yellowed photos decorate mahogany tables
antiquated keepsakes, solidified moments in time.
The cerulean dusk creeps in, and the world softens.
Yet grief cloaks nocturnal restfulness,
as your sentience has been reduced to ash.
Merely confined within an engraved urn.
Denizen of abyssal labyrinth,
legendary ancient Wyrm seeks succour
within prodigious sepulchral cavern:
her domicile for an ageless lifetime.
Ethereal shafts cascade through ceiling's
stochastic rifts, piercing tenebrous tomb;
vicious viscous scarlet smears juxtapose
against shimmering iridescent scales.
Aeons past, Faustian pact formed with Man:
vow of harmonious co-existence
exchanged for fulgurant falchion forged in
the heart of dragonflame's conflagration.
Sacred covenant shattered this night by
myriad ironclad interlopers;
ruination's harbinger was strident
warrior wielding token of treaty.
Last vestiges of cacophonous roar
dissipate into the Stygian depths;
acrid stench of brimstone clogs the air as
remnants of vitriolic pyres linger.
Twin gargantuan fibrous wings contract
behind enormous muscular torso;
fulgurating talons sluggishly sheaved
as serpentine tail shudders and falls limp.
Priceless metals and prismatic gemstones
intersperse with charred and twisted corpses;
amongst detritus of mortal conflict,
majestic titan finally crumples.
Massive lurid yellow orbs exhibit
an unfathomable intelligence;
succumbing to the inevitable,
moribund colossus bows forlorn head.
Lifemate butchered by zealous paladin;
remains of final clutch just motes on breeze.
Burden borne by solitary relict:
regal behemoth was last of her kind...
----------------------------------------
(C) John C Michaels, 25th April 2017
Free verse, no meter, no rhymes - as per contest rules.
10 syllables on every line (howmanysyllables.com)
For the contest entitled "A Mythical Creature" sponsored by Julia Ward.
A Blanket from the Bin
The cold hospital is not an evil place, on purpose.
It is frozen to slow down the progress of death.
It is harder to attack that way, (“demise”) it moves sluggishly…
Allows doctors, nurses, caretakers and loved ones,
a chance to do skirmishes, that offer a tomorrow, at times.
Angels, they move gracefully.
They are outside the realm of hot and cold,
and live between the lines of love and hate.
They fight battles unseen, with dark foes…
ever trying to bring down the innocent and beautiful.
Prayer warriors, go willingly into the artic night.
Daring to come against the heat of ice too cold,
to be just “cold” any longer… burning like hell itself.
They bring their words, of their King.
They bring His Light, to shine.
They are not afraid.
The place… is given warmth
by all those that make a difference.
It is given peace,
by the patience of perseverance.
It is given,
True Hope,
by the Son of God,
Jesus.
Who knew you were an ammunition,
A camouflage with a malice!
I'm still numb from the revelation
No matter how much I try
I'm afraid that I might risk walking the path
that killed all my dreams I'd reinforced spellbound by your lies!
I'm locked in your cellar
For the crime of conviction
In the castle you built
And called our home!
There's a door on your side
I know l'd never dare to knock
The door wrapped in Bougainvillea
Hiding behind them
The thorns of your sweet excuses!
I know I must avert
And disappear into the fog,
Hoping you'd then realise what a loss feels like!
But, my limbs are paralysed by the venom of trust
That sluggishly ran through my blood
Tormenting me all these years !
Now,
All I need is an escape
Is that too much to ask for?
A gentle wind comes in unknowingly.
It is tender and blows trees gently.
Branches dance sluggishly for joy,
Smiles gleam and glow their faces.
A good tree, a good wind will go to,
To make it grow and breathe healthily,
Conveying huge amounts of good wishes,
Making its twigs feed good sap for free.
That wind blows hopefulness into the tree,
To cause it to generate good evaporation,
Showers of rain to wash clean the same tree,
And help the leaves remain fresh with no fee.
Such a wind is rare; it moves trees gently.
Makes them feel happiness and true love.
For God’s sake to scatter endless impetus;
Its music always sounds soft for good dancers.
Creating smiles to erase facial wrinkles
Is a godly generous and caring friend,
Rare to find when you’re in life hurdles.
Like a Baobab, you help me stand firm.
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
Do not blame the snail
When it drags along sluggishly
Or draws back in its shell out of fear.
But what do you say of one
Who competes with a turbo jet
And makes friend with a sledge hammer?
Do not blame the cat
Frolicking in the comfort of its paws,
While it mews and lords over the mouse.
What do you say of one
That pretends to be a Jaguar
Whose jagritude plunged it into the lion's den?
Must we blame the earth worm
That prefers to curl in the mud
As it awaits its ration from the earth.
What do you say of one
That jumped headlong into the riverbed while it pretends to be a snake?
Of course it will become food for the fishes.
What can you say of an hen
Whose envy of the eagle
Motioned her legs toward the mountain top,
While it calls on the winds to direct her feathers?
Don't you know that envy kills?
Okun and Osa
Will never be same
Just like Orun and Osupa
each with its appointed time
will never proclaim to be the other.
If not tomorrow
Yesterday can never proclaim to be today,
For we are a creation of yesterday
Oblivious of the face of tomorrow.
Our enemies have made peace
While our friends have gone to war
For our sins lie in who we are
And who we will never become.
We have refused to be a part of deceit.
We have grown to understand
The crux of human foolery
And the dangers benign
With its untold sorrow.
So if not tomorrow,
Why not live for today?
(C) Muyideen Ayinla 2021
There's the Groundhog
sluggishly slinking up the cherry tree
checking out to see
if there are seeds in the feeder.
Just refilled he sees
then inches up cautious and higher
until he is level with the dish
sliding in position to snack.
Thought he was gone
since all my vegetation
had succumbed to his hunger
but he has returned.
Perhaps because
the hot dry summer
burned what little remained
and his hunger drew him here.
Little chubette he perches
securing his view
and satisfying his needs.
No point in chasing him now
though my pup
would enjoy the chase.
Let him be.