Poked Poems | Examples

Poem for The Black Hills

They bore the winds of time
as they rose from arid lands.
They sun poked past one peak
while my work crew waited
to move to another place on the highway,
and we knew the day would fade.
We knew
highways must always be mended
and the same with our lives.
We spoke in hushed voices
among these hills
made when the earth shifted.
Somewhere beyond rested
a blanket of stars.
We let traffic pass
and two of us held stop/slow signs
and they would stand at the ends
of the work zone.
Along the highway was a casino
and a bar. If we listened closely
we could hear a breeze tell a story
of the old west. Some patrons
gambled their fortunes every day
and they lived in shadows
of pioneers who gave their lives
for this land.
Every time something was lost
it would be time to start again.
One man I stopped said
that it rarely rained but when it did
it stormed.
To this day I envision him
when his house would shake to the sound of thunder
nestled under a deep cover of darkness.
It was a way of life to him.

Fulcrum of a Rose

Line of inquiry: track where lies the fulcrum of the fragrance of a rose, then likewise find within, your soul. By Unseeking Seeker

From whence comes the fragrance of a flower?
At its fulcrum, the floral organs 
attach to the stalk, which has poked
up out of the earth to sprout
the beautiful petals - 
that sweet-scented face
which I adore
in the form
of the
rose.
My
soul is
like the rose.
I am planted
on this earth, but I
need proper nourishment
to fulfill my roles. Heaven,
please let your sun reign down on me.
My soul, like that of a rose, provides
no sweet fragrance without enlightenment.

Old Paint in Old Tin Can

I pried with a screw-driver driven into a lid 
sealed with age, and rust, to crack open a 
callous retribution, set aside, tombed over.
I was curious to learn how much remained
and in what condition. Up came the lid with
a gurgle, fizz, hiss, expelled with age smell.
The paint on top, had dried, to a skin, a curd,
a viscous scum of strange foreign color that
did not auger well for its pending redemption.
I poked through the thin skin, scooping it out,
to reveal the paint separated into its primary
colors. Once, thrice stirred, it slowly rejigged
into its original color and form, ready to adorn 
marks on the wall, scraped and sanded ready 
for a fix, now all's done dusted, and forgiven.

One petal alone opens

A lone petal unfurls
not a bloom,
not a flower,
no use to bees,
as one decrepit. 
It's on its knees 
trying to please
all alone.

It's an echo of a question,
yet to be asked.
It's a pose, unpoised, unprompted. 
It's one eye, nose, or ear, 
in defaced mask.
It's a one-handed clap,
an air-kiss from poked puckered lips
It's a hand-shake request 
never returned. 
a promise never spoken
a swing never swung
a trip never begun
a tear shed in solitude
a wave goodbye, never returned,
It's a mantra or 
a musical note recited only once.
All these are clones of 
of singularities, 
koan and kin.

roses

I clutch a batch of roses in my hand,
given to me by a blurry face,
one whose name i cannot recall,
i know theyve hurt me,
and im forever stuck with them,
and the stupid roses that wont die.

the thorns prick my hands,
my hands drip blood,
i couldnt un-clutch the roses,
the pain was sharp, like a needle
i could feel it course through my veins,
and the tears welling in my eyes
like a child would after dropping a toy
but why would i cry over something i was letting hurt me?
pathetic old me,

the roses sat clutched in my hands tightly.
i took a deep breath,
and my hands unclutched,
as the thorns slowly came out of my skin
i sighed out of relief, the tears still pricking my eyes,
and now i could see blood coming from the holes the thorns had poked.
it would take forever to heal from this.

Do Not Open the Adventure Book Tuttie

Do not open the adventure book Tuttie was warned
But warnings for this girl are often poked fun at and scorned
She could not wait for the prissy librarians to leave
Knew now what fun shenanigan she had up her sleeve

She checked from the window to make sure they were gone
They are so persnickety, I wonder what planet they live on?
She opened that book almost immediately
A tiger jumped out and bit her hard on the knee

Chased her into another room where she locked it in
She ran back to the book and saw princesses giving a spin
Two knights and a dragon were rising high in the sky
A bear came toward her growling, she thought she might die

Tuttie ran to the kitchen with the beast at her rear
He stopped to devour a statue of a tiny deer
She spent the rest of the night locked up, praying for the prisses.
They came back the next morning, and were angry, there were no kisses.

Life on Heels

Height 6'1", checked. 
Waist a breath, legs a line,
checked. 
Horned jaws, a sharp decree, 
checked. 
Weight, a feather's fallacy, 
checked.

Groomed, primed, pinched, 
poked, 
A porcelain doll to be arrayed 
before the hungry gaze of 
vultures. 
A spectacle, framed and bright, 
Fascination of the surface.

This is what life on heels looks 
like, my dear. 
The longer you spend on it, 
the more unbearable. 
The brighter you shine, the faster 
you burn.

Stay too long on these sharpened 
stakes, 
And bone yields, the spirit breaks. 
A wound unseen, a silent tear, 
Scars from the heels are hard to 
heal.

if I could I would fetch you the moon on a spoon

What a meal it would be…
moon on a spoon
stars on a fork
planets poked with knives

You’d have the most celestial dish
because I love you

I would play divine creator 
to soothe your soul
and to make you mine

Your eyes would sparkle
as you dine of such heavenly items

And I would be there with you
eating in unison

You must understand my love
that I love you more than life

So eat
find pleasure in the galactic soup
that will bind us together for all eternity

A Beautiful Fleeting Life

Great beauty did Rose have since that time when
she poked her head out and beheld the sun,
which had been helping her to grow and then,
she noticed in her bed there was no one
except for her! For a brief moment, Rose
was all alone, a queen who stood with grace
with her crimson hue and in sweet repose,
enticing bees that circled near her face, 
taking nectar from petals’ base. Aglow,
Rose loved being desired . . . but now has come
wilting time. Her blossom tears – unseen – flow.
A flower’s reign is fleeting, and no bees’ hum
will Rose now hear. One floral leaf lets loose.
As the petal falls, she knows she’s lost her use.

Caged Animal

We started off with being/
A human stuck in a tiny box/
Like a caged animal/
Day by day, we lose our senses/
To be poked and prodded/
Day and night for amusement/
This is a game to them/
Looking into the cage/
To rile the beast within/
The expected become unexpected/
The situation becomes dire/
Crying in desperation/
Remember,  it's a human being/
Locked away in isolation/
Treated like garbage/
No Gods hears the cries/
From within the walls/
Trapped like a caged animal/

my busy bathtub drain

green snake poked his head out of the bathtub drain
singing Christmas carols off key, singing a loud refrain
i saw a turtle when Cobra slithered down and away
bear stuck his paw through at the end of the day
i am in no hurry to take a warm relaxing bath now
imagining seeing an inverted muddy hoof of dairy cow

Maud

Torn skirt billowing behind you
like a parachute,
you fell,
           fell,
for the telescoped eternity
of two seconds.

The pond turned its blind eye
to the sky,
and the shuddering gate
swung shut.

No one was talking.

Next day, the sun stirred
the larkspur into bloom again.

A rambler saw the flattened weeds,
suspected a fox,
and poked around for feathers.

They found your body later:
drowned in the darkness of the wood.
And raped,
or so the papers said.

‘A rendezvous with death’
was how one writer put it.

The police are looking for a man in black.


First published in Landfall, New Zealand

can he chew through electric cords

the mystery of whether or not
my puppy can chew through an electric cord
was answered this morning
I will give you an emphatic yes
he poked his snout into a Christmas box
and chewed the ends off of all of the lights
I feel validated now
in my insistence on hiding all cords
fearing he could do this

Ladies Nite At Clyde's Bar

News flash
Huge bash

Big fight
Last night

Clyde's Bar
Bizarre

War zone
Chairs thrown

Snouts poked
Gals choked

Eyes blacked
Ribs cracked

Hair snatched
Backs scratched

Throats slashed
Heads bashed

Tossed stools
Blood pools

Ears chewed
Tossed food

Knees kicked
Knives pricked

Low blows
Stomped toes

Dames sprawled
Cops called

Clyde's closed
Foreclosed

a rose

he gave me a rose
a beautiful red rose

i love roses
i love the scent of them
i love how beautiful they are
i love everything about them

but they had thorns
they poked me and i bled
i couldnt stop bleeding

he got me a bandaid
everything was okay again

but it still stung

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