Short Fetid Poems

What became fetid?
Remaining too divided
Congress odium!...

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thick fog engulfs night
wading across fetid swamp
moon casts dim beacon
eyes of beasts monitor steps
owner's pursuing dogs howl...

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Be friend of death,
                   cross fetid swamps,
                   or be Columbus and
                  discover "novel world"!?...

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The foreign fiend, of feckless faith and folk, 
Is feigning fealty to our fair fortress;— 
To force his form and fold on finished fact, 
He’ll find fit fashion of fetid fetish....

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THAT OLD CHROME MERCURY

HOT

FETID

DREAM

ALL METALLIC 

LIKE THE COOLER PLANETS 

MUST BE

ALL SOOTHING HELL 

SUFFUSED WITH SIN

AND THEN GO

RINGS

AROUND THE MOON...

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FOREIGN COFFEE

sluggish pulse
room ahiss
percolating
this fetid heart
foreign coffee
funnel brown muck
muck funnel smut
searching for words
plopping like mud



© Kim van Breda—8 January 2016...

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the old wooden bridge

    spans the fetid stagnant pool

       where my dreams decay


 -------------------------------------
 Contest: Picture Perfect Haiku #1
             Sponsor: Skat A
                 Placed 1st...

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Flatulent Franco from France frequently farts
Fetid foul fetor fumes fill French foyers
Francophile females feign fainting
Fanning flatus from frowning faces!

Alliteration Contest
Sponsored by Barry Stebbings 

11-27-17...

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Potential is
the moulted skin
of a snake in jest—
laced with
the plastic tatters
of an old crow's nest.
A makeshift bulletproof vest.
With a valiant crest.
Worn by a soldier
on a hollow conquest—
to claim broken toys
in a fetid wormy chest.

It means nothing....

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THE SMELL OF LOVE

In instant love with this handsome man she fell
On romantic date this she wanted to tell
He came floating in flair
Sat so close on the chair
His socks smelled fetid fish, she groaned, what the hell.

August 29, 2018...

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The message in the bottle was not what I expected to see

The glass so clear, vodka fetid within, the label beckoned to the buyer

The cap torn off, insides drained, the droplets stained like weak bleak tea

The promised dreams were nightmares, the vendor a stinking liar....

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I breathe darkness
Exhaled into the fleeing light
Making shadows weep
Stirring the fetid kiss of dusk
Lurking in my moonless charm
Silent wings seizing my soul
Staring into my emptiness
Fulfilling their latent need
                                          …to inhale
 
...

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disassembled
    and torn
scattered
    in the fetid
air
    beyond 
        repair
in
higher
     dreams
unheard
unspoken
a
   thousand
        whispers
in
the
night 
    of
       this
           brief 
              transit

inspired
   by Ash Wednesday TSE...

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should the sky crash down
the sea come to boil
winds blow all away
sands harden to clay
air becomes fetid

tides defy moon
stars cease to shine
snow melts away
time stops ticking

I remain
undaunted
through it all

I will
still love

you

written December 17, 2021...

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It drips all over,
dense, smelly and fetid,
it pours out from my each pore,
neither can I see it physically,
nor can you see it along,
it smears on my body parts,
and has the origin in my soul,
it makes me run,
and often go over board,
do you know what it is,
nothing but human greed....

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                                    solutions unfound
                           archaic unchanged condemns~
                             d                
                               e c r e p i t      fetid
                                                                    
...

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The chant, the drums
  the beat, the thrum
The fires leap high
  the beast must die

The screams, the shouts
  the painted war-whoops
Leaves crackle, thick smoke
  fetid air, throats choke

Metal spears all raised
  sharp cries pierce the haze
Too late the high priest
  beast's heart has ceased...

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It is enough
to crawl inside my fuzzy faith
and sleep upon my soporific pillow,
clutching to my breast
my favorite God
(you know the one)
who keeps the fetid, dying children far away,
though quite secure within their refuge
underneath strong wings of steel,
then sends his fierce angelic legions
hovering
above my rest.
           ~...

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It is enough
to crawl inside my fuzzy faith
and sleep upon my soporific pillow,
clutching to my breast
my favorite God

(you know the one)
who keeps the fetid, dying children far away,
though quite secure within their refuge
underneath strong wings of steel,
then sends his fierce angelic legions
hovering
above my rest.
           ~...

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slowly crept the familiar warmth of fetid fallacy
a tidal wave of stealthy lies
oozing its vile variations of truthfulness
immobilizing the wit and wisdom of intelligence

silencing within a dismal darkness 
all resistance to its expanding greed
pandering to the pathetic pathos
of crumb collecting collaborators


John G. Lawless
©11/5/2018...

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They cling, these city dwellers,
to crannied city walls
dusted with the exhaled indifference
of a blindly passing world.
Gasping in the fetid urban exhale
longing for the touch of errant bee.
Escapees of discarded flower pots
surviving on sporadic a/c drips
stretch to catch a glimpse of sunrise.
Rooted in their dreams of being free.

2/18/2020...

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   In a little café down by the bay
     He sipped his coffee and looked around

   The water fetid, a sickly green
     In nearby woods, few trees seen

   Nary a creature grazed in the parched meadow
     Red sun blazed like a desert Pharaoh 

   Of a sudden, rains came, hot sands steaming  
     The final curtain ~ or was he dreaming
...

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in darkness we all look the same ~ pawns can capture a king in the game

elephant president with crooked tusks ~ wears the fetid scent of musk

find the kryptonite to end his mad reign ~ America is in pain

DODGE, the felon ~ the Department of Donald Glorifying Elon

to snuff the flames of a gas lighter ~ the world would be so much brighter


...

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Stopping in an alley on a summer day
rainbow trash exhaling its hot fetid breath
a scamper of invisible residents
searching for the remains of elegant dining
the Nordic hum of struggling A/C units
as an evening sun seems to avoid entry
music drifts from an open window
slowly fades in the humidity
peeking over my shoulder
I slide behind the dumpster…
...

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I looked into
my surgeon soul
In there
I saw the reflection
of life

The yellow eyes
of jaundice
The fetid breath
of diabetes
The sickly smell
of gangrene

I looked again
The calm face
of death
The wet feel
of birth

If you don’t know
ask the leeches
swimming in the pool
of my blood

Ask the man
in the white shroud
waiting at the gate...

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