Long Stalactites Poems
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Through eldritch streets I walked alone
With shadows on my track,
Full jellied was my every bone,
I thought my mind would crack.
Through mist and morbid mire I went
To revel where gargoyles dwell,
A guest whose soul was spent,
To meet the host - the King of Hell!
Through caverns dark I made my way,
The squelch of shoe, the crack of bone,
Chittering squeaks from shadowy grays,
Would never leave me alone.
At last I reached the caverned maw,
Ceiling glint with stalactites,
And of course its bretheren I saw,
The saber-toothed stalagmites.
And on the high-domed hellish lair
Hung a grinning crystal skull,
It threw a ghoulish, greening glare
Which made my senses dull.
All around there was a damp,
A noxious putrid smell,
And slightly a-centre on a ramp,
Stood grinning the Lord of Hell.
His feet were hooved, his head was horned,
He flashed his fang-like teeth.
His eyes were huge and darkly burned;
Heart stopped, I could hardly breathe!
"Welcome", boomed my infernal host,
And flashed a rotting smile,
"A welcome drink, a one-time toast,
Before you join my rank and file!"
Something clammy seized my mind,
My clothes turned very wet,
I screamed and woke myself to find
I wasn't dead as yet.
But close to it I surely was,
My narco-ed mind amid I had lain,
At hell's door without a fuss,
When with maddened mind I'd cut my vein!
On a hot summer day in the hills
I went underground searching for thrills
Fifty Eight degrees year around
In the darkness, enlightenment was found
Down here is where it all began
Unearthed bones of earlier man
A small stream is what's left of the ocean
Hands of time, run in slow motion
Crystalline icicle looking stalactites
Meet and greet, ever growing stalagmites
Multicolored water drips like rain
To formations of colors with no name
The albino blind salamander commands
Sun starved creatures on diamond dust sands
And drip stones silently grow
Resident bats freely come and go
Ever changing pillars support a vaulted ceiling
Convenient and aesthetically appealing
Father Time spins his potter's wheel
His masterpiece is patiently revealed
Occasionally Mother Earth gets jealous
Becomes a tad bit overzealous
Withholding minerals he needs
He chisels sandstone as he slowly breathes
I think to myself, how ironic
This old cave drinks a mineral tonic
In human vanity, it's time we fear
Hence the beauty of millions of years
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Cavernous
I do not believe !, nor do I want to believe
that the delineations you pain upon the canvass’
of our, oh so brief time upon this plane together
represents the true you, the real you, the spiritual soul of you.
I wanted, so much for you to stand by me,
so much for you – upon this earth – to stand with me,
to walk with me upon the raging waters of this sea,
this life of ours, to be with me in calming these waters
these storms, storms drowning emotions, feelings, desires,
sending them into the depths, into Davie Jones’s locker.
Down, down, down to the bottom – of our hearts, our souls.
Me - my spirit has slipped into the mouth of this great Cave,
the caves within – deep, dark, dangerous, opened mouth –
where a Carcharondon Carchanis, an Orcinus Orca, awaits,
it’s stalactites downward force, piercing the upper regions
of my heart, causing great geysers of blood to fly,
it’s stalagmite stilettos, thrusting upwards
into the lower, nether regions of my bleeding heart,
piercing every fiber, every beat that vibrates to the songs
that love’s composers lay at the feet of us hopeless romantics,
songs that have become deafeningly silent to these old ears and the light of their sounds, penetrates not these old eyes
as life’s blood, drips in vain, like tear drops through a vein’s
aneurism – the wounds inflicted by these predators,
wounds ripped into the living flesh of a stilled, beating heart
as it tries to navigate a coarse between Black Shadows,
between the teeth ( stalagmites, stalactites ) of this Cavern,
I have chosen to explore – once more - for Life’s, sake.
The deeper I travelled into the interior of this Cave,
The more I realized, my feeling became even more grave.
The question became, how do I avoid the sting, the bite, stave off the inevitable, – never to love / be loved – to the grave
with all I shared, all I desired, all that I gave !
From the mists of uncertainty, from the fogs of doubts
come numerous ( hundreds ?, ) pages of enlightenment
( for the blind and the blinded ) that project, that question,
that are, even, living statements.
B. J. “A” 2
January 30th 2009
My husband acted like a complete jerk
had countless affairs with women at work
He wore spray on jeans which fit so tight
and aftershave called ‘Tonight’s the night’
I knew for sure that things weren’t right
as he’d hide his cell phone from my sight
I’d opened one of his credit card bills
he’d purchased boxes of Viagra pills!
Guess he used them with that busty floozy
the office temp, I think her name’s Suzie
One thing’s for certain, I have learned
hell hath no fury like a woman spurned
So I carefully plotted to get my revenge
and lure him in a ice tunnel at Stonehenge
Ice stalactites hung low from the ceiling
a brisk blow to his head left him reeling
With a stiletto sharp icicle I pierced his chest
as the ice melted, I knew there’d be no arrest
As there’s no evidence left to incriminate me
Yes, I’d got away with his murder … scot-free!
It was the perfect crime I’d expertly planned
I'm sure any scorned woman would understand!
N/a in Murder in the Tunnel Poetry Contest judged 2/12/21
Submitted to NA Poem From a February 2021 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
01/26/21
... stalactites hung like dystopian snot from a statue
her brain was frozen and formed ice in her mind
a lacuna without inlet or outlet arrested in time
mind’s skates tied up in bundles of snowflakes
gloves off for defeat with all speed set in arrest
not even her black woollen hat showed any signs
of thawing heart-warming emotions for comfort
empty speech bubbles covered her scraped tongue
where a mouth-watering waterfall should pursue
a pick axe with nothing left to dissect or construct
dangled from a callous corpus callosum in pain
unable to connect right left wrong or left to correct
this was not what searching tranquillity had promised
in contrast transcendence wept at chilly flood gates
a voice that had so much to part with in a landscape
of permanent layers of verglas onto vaporous rime
she wished for some slime or yuck glopping goo
but permafrost refused a glimpse of impermanence
a fool thought it funny to stick a carrot in her nostril
helpless she could not leave the vegetative state of affairs
clung to a string of crystal beads at pearly gates of no return
this is a lie I am Pinocchio at the threshold of truth
a metaphor unable to break the spell of apocalypse
unfulfilled amphora and vessel that can’t even leak
incontinence at the pointless orifice of evacuation
without one drop of hope for cataracts to dissolve
a lonely icebreaker with nothing left to crack open
where a firm skull should harbour my residual flow
when a polar bear embraced her unbalanced spectre
shared his white furry coat under a mantle of darkness
shales of introjection floated away from the solar eclipse
which had sheltered her from a charcoaled manic cauldron
touching middle grounds in between scorching euphoria
and lifeless apathy just long enough to remember that she had
not taken her medication and the self-help manual was useless
sometimes catharsis has to wait for one small lucid moment
when a beak meets a beaker and cascades start from a dribble
In the chasm of my mind
Where many tears have crystallised;
becoming stalagmites and stalactites -
To have had, and to have held;
To have lived, and to have died
To all life’s happenings, good and ill,
For restitution and solace now seek their place,
Many eyed beasts crave the crumbs of the waste -
wasted years, and scorn fed tears , they lay in the hidden caves of the recesses of my mind…
I will look up to the hills
And feed upon the sunrise,
My need is saturated in Your love;
I am bathed in Your light
And swaddled in Your cloak of righteousness
As Surely as goodness and mercy are at my side, I seek no comfort here,
for I am sustained by the fount of all blessings
And by the Eventide when I find myself at The Great River,
I will be ready to cross.
Naomi Rainbow
Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning split the grey sky,
As the little boat rocked with the rolling waves;
Salt water and icy rain soaked him,
Washing the puke stains from his clinging clothes.
As he prayed, the bitter taste of vomit and a strange stench,
Like rotting flesh and fish, made him retch again.
Then, his heart almost stopped as he spotted the sea serpent,
when it reared up, its neck as tall as a lighthouse
and its gaping mouth like a vast cavern full of stalactites and stalagmites.
Face-to-face with the prehistoric-looking predator,
He wondered who would believe he’d seen such a creature…
And then he screamed in agony as jagged teeth ripped at his flesh…
For Andrea’s Picture Perfect contest
Stars like stalactites, suspended in a sapphire sky
Tremble on a satin tapestry
As I ascend, awe-struck,
Into their icy incandescent light.
Resplendence enwraps me as I
Wend my way through a white-hot
Astral arc,
Yearning for something just beyond my grasp. . . .
Treasures await me.
Of that I am sure.
Tails of argent comets swiftly pass me as I climb new
Heavenly heights in hushed
Expectation.
Surging past the shimmering rings of Saturn, I see in the distance a
Throne of gold set in a taffeta tableau; the stars behind me now
Appear as small glowing asterisks.
Reaching transcendence, I
Sparkle.
written 2/19/12
Inspired by "Stairway To the Stars" Poetry Contest
of Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S
Acrid smoke in the scientist’s bell jar
Blankets of chenille-covered snow
Crystalline carbon diamond star
Drips forming stalactites grow
Effervescent waterfalls’ dreams
Frothy-topped cappuccinos
Gelid surfaces of lakes and streams
Halos of angels in holy repose
Icebergs splitting from their source
Jasmine-covered pergolas in Spring
Knuckles clenched in fear or remorse
Love’s purest form sobering
Mandala patterns on frosted window
Newly-born flamboyant flamingos
Opalescent lustre of pearls on show
Pineapple-licious snow cones
Quills of the porcupines’ defense
Ringlets of great-grandparents’ hair
Steamy hot springs vapor intense
Trailing wisps of London fog air
Undulating winter foothill maze
Veils of fine tatted lace purity
Wieliczka Salt Mine passageways
Xilinous spider webs artistry
Yahrzeit candle flame in memoriam
Zephyrus ballooning sails on a whim
Most people go bananas
over chocolate
I'm well nuts about nuts
as well
Stuff them in chocolate
ice-cream or sherbet.
Yeah munch on peanuts
brunch on hazelnuts
Ah lunch on pecan nuts
or crunch on chestnuts
For nuts could never
drive one nuts
Ironically nutters
perhaps never ate them
A nutcase perhaps never
pried open
a nut from its case
as nuts could never ever
fall from grace
Any nut brown eyes
shouldn't miss them.
Nuts are an anytime
anywhere snack
Do travel with 'em' in
your backpack
Savour the taste of
salted groundnuts or
roasted peanuts
I even see locals munch
on round kola nuts.
Western walnuts are
tasty too
and acorns ain't just for
squirrels
in forests or the zoo
Enjoy the crunchy East
African cashews
Snack on slivered Indian
almonds
or even Persian
pistachios
Ahem well rhyming this
poem
was sure quite a tough
nut to crack ;)
Rhyming was tough for
this nutty crunchy snack
Besides there's so many
of them
I can't just put em' all in
a nutshell
I can only hope and wish
you enjoy
this nutty tale I tell.
But I do hope to have
offered all the nuts and
bolts on nut variety
And now nothing else
can rhyme here
except its creator the
Almighty
And this poem be as well
for all poetry nuts
for don't all of you poets
have such poetic guts?
A word in caveat now,
yeah go on crack those
nuts
but take care not to
crack your canines
Pray protect your pearly
whites
Your very own precious
stalactites
those right inside your
facial cave mines
and lest with cavity
holes you whine.