Short Churlish Poems

   Cheeky, cherubic, churlish
    
      adjectives I no longer use
 
         ~ Why invite elder abuse...

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[bard1]
To wit, sans pearl, mere grit and sand,
an irritant, sebaceous cyst,
expressive as a mongrel’s gland,
self-seeking randy churlish tryst!

[bard2]
Eccentric heel’s ethos raised grand,
eschews finesse, rough skewers gist,
a numpty dumpty, brillig panned,
thou frontal lob, now dully bris’d!...

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This risen churlish cold
all cove like
lost in the rigging
crying out the humour
to dance the green lithe of light
as a figment of your mind
The inconsolables retain
lost memories flight
Winters club  bastioned to the driving winds
Daffodils espied amongst the houseflies
once prudent pierce their aching hearts...

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. for public domain

For pages worth a dog's ear,
a crumpled work of lace,
we search for golden phrases,
mark their special place.

We stifle in library tiers,
churlish book stores,
coveting their treasures,
mining their aisles,

enduring for gleaming words,
to redeem our souls.
Monastic cells our Eden,
we monks who scour scrolls....

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Soft sibilance departed a while past now;
lost in family, familiarity,
an indiscretion.

Soulless silence interposes churlish crows.
The weightiness of strangled screams hangs heavy
deafening the two.

Whisper; wounded, slain.




This or That, Vol 18 Poetry Contest: Wounded Whisper
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Date written: 24th May 2023...

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I lusted after Deborah from my first day at school.                 
As did every other boy, her looks made them all drool.
On Valentines I sent a card despite my inhibition.
She responded with a churlish smile that set me on a mission,
I asked her for a date and she replied “well, that depends…
…in fact, on second thoughts, I’d rather we were Just Friends”...

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Churlish wind hovers overhead
Ready to chart its path of dread
By wistful, listless conductor led
Twirling baton with rotors fed
A swirling blender over land spread
Careening, eerie echo left in its stead
Fluffing the threads of barren bed
Wispy fibers in ginning whirlpool sped
Silty granules from denuded top shred
Strafing the strands of every bare head...

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Why do you listen to echoes of shells strewn above your ears?

Those voices, once soft and loving, now bark churlish commands from ai drones, whirring subconscious tropes, retrievable by unseen

Puppet Masters; confident their mass of
Luminoids will sway like clouds of wind

Swept insects, inhaling vast quantities of
Ideas and movements of humans

             who

                      remember...

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I timidly knocked on his office door,
covered my ears for his usual roar
as I knew he would let fly

THE ANSWER'S NO,
NOW WHAT DO YOU WANT -
he’s such a churlish guy

THE ANSWER'S NO,
NOW WHAT DO YOU WANT...
in the past he’d made me cry

THE ANSWER'S NO,
NOW WHAT DO YOU WANT
was his bog standard reply

It’s your invite to the staff party
you said no 
so now I’ll say goodbye!

12/15/18...

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sun tanned unevenly, foxed
grimy fingers caress bruising
pounded by day's narration
churlish in onyx, was its hint
over feathered combs, see, 
of flicked, creased pages
buried, stained words
were never read
while cold rooms grow colder
an author's sweat for nothing
stemmed the reader's keen
though skimmed at best
and your dilated pupils
captured out-of-breath palates
so I travelled second hand
yesterday, for just over a quid...

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What should I write?
How to impel pathopoeia
Heighten pathos ,how do I entice?
Could try pretermitt ,glut to omit trice
Produced hoax induced coax
Without portraying
Childish churlish or
Condescending chutzpah
Grangerite preferred granite
Schematic garnet

Sentiment delude ,cognitive dilute?
Why all the governance?
Power to the insincerely sinner's
& the pious are restrained
They favour the heathenishness
And refrain the humane...

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Listen to poem:

The Escape Artist
David J Walker

He was 
	Well dressed
In a Goodwill sort of way

	Pinstripes down his
Breast 

	Cuffed at the end of 
Each long leg

	Shoes buffed
Into mirrored shine 

Checking his Canal Street Rolex 
	For the incorrect time
	
This is how his
	Day goes

Blowing Orbicular grey smoke 
forced through his churlish nose 

	Awaiting the arrival of 
The next Greyhound bus

	That necessarily must
take him

Anywhere else...

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Stirrings of heart in poems symbolised,
creations crafted as heartfelt emote,
oft by narrow minds cursorily sized,
since heart and head ride in different boats.
Nonchalant to criticism, we do float
as a bliss mist, in joyful innocence,
engaging not in this churlish parlance.
The jibes and taunts whizz by us harmlessly;
our centred presence in tranquil balance,
throbbing in rapture of love endlessly.

07-November-2020

Written for: ‘Judged By A Jury Of Your Peers Poetry Contest’...

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