Short Pried Poems

iris agate was pried out of the cave
she was silent waiting and watching
not understanding her beauty...

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'In vino veritas,' Romans used to say
                                               ~ Secrets pried, stalkers preyed...

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Who thought teen girls' ears 
    could never be pried from their phones

   Was cocksure gay couples
    would never marry or own their own homes...

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Untitled, their works of art (?), their minds
pried to the paper, full-out concentrate
only a few sigh and rub their eyes
and lean back, hands overhead, yawns,
relaxed, reclined, restrained, now!
Headfirst diving into the test once more!...

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Two patients came
None of who were lame
Yet each had a limp
As though they’d broken a hip.

Where does it hurt?” we asked
But all they did was cry
But still we pried and pried
Till they screamed, it’s an ulcer 
And there is your answer....

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There was a horse, in this field,
White as any snow on Earth,
He looked sad as a sad owl,
But never pried for loneliness.

This is the only friend I Get,
He understood forests and clouds,
There was, a horse in this field,
Now I am too old to remember....

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Luscious lips
Sultry and transfixed
Asking her master
To kiss her

Seething flesh
Bound and bereft
Begging her master
To touch her

Succulent breasts
Tender and erect
Tempting her master
To taste her

Hungry thighs
Quivering and pried 
Inviting her master
To take her...

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with death 
i promise i'll be
yours faithfull
for eternity

my soul 
forever by 
your side
for i will not
be pried 
away

my spirit
my will
to be with thee
will never cease
to be
it's is 
a part of me

my love
my master
and my god
have bound
me to you 
this way...

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Gestation was in jest,
she was enamoured,
and fell down to rest,
he fell along,
laughed and cried,
she was waiting till he opened and pried,
they were both lazy,
and acted in rough and hazy,
now she was in gestation,
and quite happy,
of the belly that was growing zappy,
it was fun,
and she looked forward to next run....

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Head cold
Gets old

Night rough
Nose stuffed

Wake up
Ache up

Eyes fried
Eyes pried

Somewhat
Glued shut

Nose snot
A lot

Annex
Kleenex

Rough cough
Head off

Bad hack
Attack

Slow scene
Feel mean

Suspect
Day wrecked

Not well
What smell?

Detect
Inspect

Take heart
Jumpstart

God’s bean:
Caffeine!...

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"Why?" I pried.
"Because!" She replied.
"because, What?" I sighed.
"Because of you!" she cried.
"ME!" I defied.
"You!" she implied.
"I believe it was you!" I lied.
"Oh do you?" she derived.
"Yes!" I contrived.
"Your reason?" she maligned.
"Your lack of reason" I assigned.
"lack of reason!" she nearly died.
She left shortly after I arrived....

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Creation
Between life and death
What is our destination?
Leave it to imagination
Stories unravel
Buried me in the gravel
Got to travel
Admist the worms and mud
Thud
Coffin lid creaks shut
In the underworld
Two years pass
What a stench!
A ruthless little wench
Disrupted my decay
To my dismay
Dug me up
Pried me open
All for three 
Gold teeth....

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Boxed Life

She sleeps with a nine
waits for his face
his distant return
too close
looming

A tragic slime
smooth stranger
smoother lover
pried into her life
obsessed
frantic
impossible to reject

she lives 
twisted
a boxed life
pulled by strings
too tight

An explosion is inevitable
the storm's coming
and she knows it
so she sleeps with a nine
and waits for his face...

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see that smile
it seems real
you would never know she's suicidal
there are so many things she must feel

there is always a label
it was pasted on
she was never able
till she was gone

the blood that flowed inside
as it spilled on the floor
the blades were never pried
from her hands when she wanted more

the crimson out of her wrist
she knew she wouldn't be missed...

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If you did not have a tire swing or a tree house
You never lived, you never lived
You have no idea how marvelous your life could have been
If you did not fling your feet onto the roof of a shed
With your heart doing triple time
Hoping your mother would not catch you
If you never sneaked into an empty school house
And pried the fire escape open, and slid down in summer
You never lived, you never lived....

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I thought that I would see the signs
So in-touch with my feelings
After all…
Even still, though painfully trying
Letting go
Was impossible.
Fingers blue, from my grip so tight
When they came and pried my hands open
Even the decayed remains
Were gone.
A breath from my lips 
Echoed out
As a single grain of dust
On my fingertip
Floated away…
When love dies
Even still, so painfully trying
Holding on
Is impossible....

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if you were tied in a chair
like Alex in 
A Clockwork Orange,
with your eyes pried permanently open 
with a mechanism built to do just that &
you were forced to look out at the terrible things happening in the world &
you could not turn your head & look away 
& you could not seek conversation with a loved one 
or find distraction in any other way,
would you then cry an honest tear &
not a load of crocodile ones?...

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We wave good bye now
Yellow paper hearts
staple gunned to the bulletin board
flapping in the fan breeze
She nods at her work
The chalkboard washed and dried
And with gnashing teeth
One by one those staples pried from their chest board
 breaking, tearing the delicate paper-thin poems
One by one they break her hearts
On the desks, the apples molded
Like she did them
From seeds of wisdom she watched
their minds ripen...

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Kill the ants which eat the sugar bowl
the hardened scabs of greed
you are my corpse doll
eyes pried open with extreme prejudice
your screams mute in silence
dead are the angels in heaven
tattered and torn wings say they fly no more
like de powdered moths
I am only what you made me
years of T.V abuse has scarred my psyche
force fed lies and broken promises
though such is life this false reality
such is life is this....

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A foul smell emerged         As the lid was pried       Like howling winds      Voices cried   The death of Rome        Birth of a nation       Color of autumn       Beginning of creation       Seas of blood       Roads of despair       Emerging armies      Into the lion`s lair       A roar of triumph        Echoes the land       My treasure      The birth of man    A new beginning For all to see          Standing together        The way it should be...

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Grandson discovered a magical land called, "under the bed".
Unearthing a tin of jingling coins. 
I told him:
"The Big one is the king; all the rest are serfs".  
He looked at me baby baffled, then let out a baby burp...
Without warning, he tried popping a serf into his mouth.
I pried it from his tiny mitt, and he cried.
so, I soothed him with a little lullaby..
~Little king-little king always love the serfs.
A good king would never eat the serfs. ~...

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I wake into the morning of my dreams,
swimming loosely from a mislead youth.
Oh, how I truly thought of loving, then
besieging it as life’s one only truth.

Sweet valentines bask in hearts of yore.
hungover in a scented lock,
gasping in a darkened room,
a one-time virgin’s passions,   blocked.

Holding youthful sorrows precious hopes,
preserved in steel to perish never,
pried open, lonely, drunken nights,
a sacred joy to live forever.




...

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When I sleep, the atmospheric weight
pushes on my jaw, creaking
like overambition– I am pried open

Moonlight focused into silver cords
light the runway of my tongue

Spiders march through pearly gates,
little legs stepping over cracked molars

They nestle in the branches of my marrow
and tie taut webs around my heart

Silken string in twenty-four hands
push-pull     right-left     back-forth

My heart pumps grateful blood
and my jaw snaps shut with the dawn...

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My hands are sutured 
behind my head. 
I lie like a fallen yield sign 
on the side of the road. 
My path is yellow and humble. 

My hands separate.  Pull. 
And split open the back of my skull. 

Evolution takes place in the gaps 
of solitude being locked in a room, 
away from all influences. 
Natural and spiritual become one law. 
And I yield . . .  

Pried open with my crowbar 
hands, the grey matter separates -- 
creating an entranceway 
for new experiences....

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Across a flowered field, I gaze.
A daisy weeps through morning haze.
One lone petal departs her side -
a "love-me-not" is softly sighed.

Gazing away from love denied -
one more leaflet from thee is pried.
Another dream towards fate's romance;
a petal plucked lends second chance.

The daisy's hearth has met defeat.
Her children sob beneath her feet.
Deflowered by a lover's act -
one last petal remains in tact.

"Love-me-not or love me so true?"
I leave that answer up to you....

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