Recoil Poems - Poems about Recoil

Recoil Being hit, makes me flinch. What hits…? The doctor, the dentist, the mechanic, bills, taxes, and death. There are others… Cheaters, liars, deceivers, divorce, cancer, its treatments, and death. The common denominator in my plight? Not death, but the lack of hope. Written 6/12/19 by Ann Foster Contest Entry 'What Makes You Flinch' Contest Info Sponsor Julie Leigh Rodeheaver Contest Name What Makes You Flinch | Enter Contest Deadline 6/26/2019...

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For this contest I’m asked to abide by the rules and thus I sit and pen my thoughts obediently but cannot check the renegade’s sweet rebellion Limit cussing and cursing: however I am told that people who swear are profound not profane No erotic poetry: ...

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A coil Bound and twisted Crimped and bent Unwound A wound At the center The core A sore Rewire and twist Make a coiled nest Hide the mess Today and tomorrow And the counted days before Pulling constantly to get it straight Watching it coil back into place...

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Recoil of stone winds is like life force dream Like a crocodile with its almost surreal force as through everglades will swim, extreme It’s like a mandrill colorful in every scheme Like neural flame of highest energy supreme But this force is almost supernatural yet beyond its wall Lies immortal and mesmerizing visage of the soul If they only knew what...

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PHOTOPHOBIANS RECOIL... the deal is sealed and the season ceases to be too far from fair for the foul lair of Master Bull- frog frowns open to reveal rats who race to ruin like muddled moles who prance on polls they dread to dote on for fear of Scale they scorn to mount because of loss of weight in the people's call caught...

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Recoil child from the light that burns all rivers dry though some might seek to persuade you to endure its heat I say retreat beneath the rock where thin roots cling to the living dust and creatures lie still amidst bones licked clean and sharp for there where life reveres the silence and the shadow that conceals you will learn to crawl and feed upon filth as your flesh grows coarse and pale and...

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Tremors raised in shakes, Pores soaked in bathe, It came in dug deep, There was root, Down below layers of soot, The distance the wave had traveled, Was enormous and now unraveled, He was scared and down, All gears strewn and thrown, He had not anticipated, And was not expecting to be expiated, Mercy he sought, As he had huge fears he fought, It was as if...

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