Short Hurdled Poems

I ran the distance
hurdled the thoughts
the track not clear
in this dismal fog
breathless, fatigued
I jump over them all
the end in sight
one hurdle calls
and as I leap over
I smash into the wall...

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Why is it 
I ask myself
I always go back

Infatuated by the quest
Of those who see me
As nothing more 
Than a grain of sand 
Being hurdled against the shore
By their breaking waves
 
Taught too young
That this is love
I can’t seem to escape
The habits of a broken girl 
Looking to mend  
In the those who will only brake her more...

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hurdled hoisted hazzle
hideous hags sparkle
rustic lips lurching
pulpy punctured pitching
damped danced drooping
mystic mists mumbling

curvy chants crunching
cautious cauldron moaning
voluptuous vibe reeling

purpled eyes heaven
dripping ecliptic epilepsy
sumptuous scrunches spanking

callous cusses cupped
spooky hags spun.
    19:11:19:14:22...

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In the darkest hour I 
thread,
Into the deepest forest,
Unilluminated I hurdled,
With plentious thought,
I never cared about the 
spirits,
The spirits of the night,
I was embalmed in 
courage,
So I ran through the 
labyrinth,
The labyrinth of 
moments, 
A new beginning it was,
But never did I find an 
end,
So at a point I gasped 
for breath,
And so it was for me,
A journey into the 
darkness....

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callous clouds hummed
sassy syllables puked
dripping dark dribbles
vying veil trickles
amputated atmosphere bewitched
spooky spell enriched

thrilled trees trailed
crumbling crescendos' wail
rusty rhythm raved

nudging nature nimble
munching meagre mumble
bounty boulevard hurdled

bridged blitzkrieg bruised
grooming gaunt gloom.
     '20:04:27:18:21

Note: An imitation of an art of nature the Almighty etched in the earth....

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muttering mist moaned
consoling callous clone
bruised odds birthed:
lanky lust cremated
eerie contractions crumbled
gaunt contraptions grumbled

wanky wind wept
ferocious fills fetched
licking fir's flesh

nocturnal nature nimble
felon fostering fumbled
hoisted end hurdled

bewitched vision feeds
drooling dark dream.
     '20:04:16:15:02

Note: Of perforated picture. Inspired by a picture I saved from a Facebook writing group....

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syrup spit in my ear
teaching me how to slide
and 
she the hip hop record
out the san francisco's
out of the san francisco
hurdled dirty
exchange rates 
mastering the filthy turn
broken horn memories
adjacent his new coats
he had and hadn't given
away
how he wound down towns
spendings is spring
weathers are drying deserts
behind her eyes
so depressing sad
how about some ice cubing
and she would run home
alone
just couldn't get around
to their name...

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