Short Fouled Poems

Your mouth is so worn and FOULED

from VOICING

those many good intentions,

while

your FEET

stand PRISTINE

on ground ZERO....

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Micro-plastics have clogged up one vein
Fouled my stomach, and addled my brain
It is sad to say
But Trump got his way
Pollution remains a profit gain...

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Chef Whipple aimed to be among super-dupers.
He was invited to fix soup for round-ball hoopers.
He put in prunes by the box
then added another for lots.
Soon all the players turned into party-poopers....

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silent under loam
your hand charcoal
squeezing the dark
between the stars

you hide

under our feet
a fouled stick, skin
we are heavy
along cow ways

you are there,
always here, you
touble stones
and evening...

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Lo, now comes that gentle death,
The march of shadows freed,
Which the wings of angels taints and tears
With compassion fouled:
Now Hate's own breed
And to Love akin-
The velvet stalking
Of the heart betrayed...
Bare, thirsting claw,
Sweet feral rage!...

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.

Hypocrisy 
      is a thin layer
            of stinking scum
            on the surface 
      of an expensive 
perfume.

  

Fragrance 
      shall soon be 
            subdued by stench 
            of corpses that
      your nightmares 
exhume!

....

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Darkness

Give me darkness-
At least that’s honest-
I know where I am with it.
This brightness-
Blistered by the webs
Fouled by the coal dust
Is too awful to look at.
Darkness brings peace
To my eyes that are
Struggling in a confusion
Of shapes and shades.
Give me darkness-
Or else clean pure 
Whole unveiled light...

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State Championship on the line.
Today I have been shooting just fine.
When I got the ball I yowled.
“The defender on me has just fouled”.
Two free throws just for me.
Will I make them?  We will see.
The first one bounces up and in.
Just one more and we will win.
 I shoot the ball and get it done.
I can’t believe that we just won!...

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Oh much maligned pump, 
pristine place of flow and thump, 
rest not for I will surely die if you do,
no seat for my emotion, 
no womb for my desire, 
just a place of pump and thump and blood..
bleed all of those who would do me harm, 
place your bloodless souls upon the pyre 
of my angry, aching, soul, 
fouled culpret of my desire, 
linger not within the arms of whom?...

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Lord p.s.
I'm tired of this b.s.
Life is a game and I'm getting fouled.
Where is the ref?
The devil comes at me in his best.
I'm feeling empty in my chest.
I'm so ready to rest.
Looking for death is my quest.
I answered all the questions on the life test.
Driving life but can't see because of the mist.
The turn to my journal I miss.
Where I'm I going?
Can you tell me this?-Mario Perez...

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I heard a cleanly, fouled dredging
When I thought of the clean heart
When I thought of the clean heart
The fresh friend finishing
The groomed gut gargling
As of someone gently refinishing, refinishing
Deep into that darkness open
My mind always strays to furnishings
The groomed green-ware giving
The textiles came outliving
Covering me partially
Oh!  God my house and heart filthy, dirty Lord God give me a clean heart


4/19/19...

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Dreams dieing distantly
Long lingering light
Falling further faraway
Fabricated fouled fight

Traces teasing telling
Selfish senseless sores
Open oafish obedience
Crackling coastal core

Sacrificial senses stating
An awkward abandonment
Naked notions needing
Sweet succulent selfless scents

Aromas airing anonymously
Teaching to tell the tale  
Dislocated dreams deadening
Fictionalizing failure; a final farewell 

© Stacy Lynn Stiles...

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I am not a looser.	
For I played life to my ability’s brim.
Fouled at times, but often stroked fairly.
 Nonetheless I did not win.

Did cross limits, did obey norms,
Staked everything, even not owned ones.
Banked on me and myself.
Well, I cannot make it.

Something slipped, I don't know what,
Some times flipped, but I can't figure out.
In retrospective, I did not reach there
The mark was way beyond me.

Since then I am staying here; stagnant....

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Tragic tale of woodland magic
magic expounds on the tragic.
Dying unicorns are crying
crying unicorns are dying.
Hosts of fairies attend their ghosts
ghosts consoling those grieving hosts.

Clear streams fouled by a pixy’s tear
tear tainted streams that once ran clear.
Stars bleed their sadness onto Mars
Mars flushing red with blood of stars.
Night flickers with candles of light
light vigils confetti the night.


( A Mirror Sestet Poem.)...

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