Short Stunted Poems

loathsome creatures
their evolution stunted
the Harvey species...

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Winter sunlight.
A ray drops earthward-
And falls on stunted treelines....

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in stunted tree perched
twittering, fluttering, shrill
song bird serenades...

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Looking so stunted
Adding a fertilizer
Greenish it grows tall

Cows lean without it
Having been grazed on grasses
They look beautiful

© Chris Ekong...

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A boy with caged dreams

                  So eager to fly his coop

                                      But has stunted wings



Date written: 08/17/2019...

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In all your ways,
Indeed your endeavours,
grow big and tall. 
Not so you look down 
on the short and stunted;
and not so you crush 
the small and fragile
But grow tall and big –
so big, everyone can touch you....

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My next-door man was a postman
He stunted gimmicks like Tarzan 
I met a constable
And told him my trouble
He said, “I can’t treat your ailment”. 


Syllable count: 8, 8, 6, 6, 8 (I used howmanysyllbes.com to count syllables.)...

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Striking
Shocked
Stunted
The Tsunami came as a dream 
And gone like a nightmare
Never to be forgotten by some
But lives have to go on 
It is snow that may not fall upon
And will soon be lost in memories
Of the next generation...

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As a child I used to think

Of all the things I wanted

When I grew I liked to drink

And it left my mind stunted

So now I can't remember

'Cause my memory isn't clear

My birthday's in December

But I don't know in what year...

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The flick-flack of the shredded Flag, the bugle marking time

The Soldier laid to rest, midst those that went before

The crosses like snow-white trees, stunted before their Prime

In order, line upon line, do we never learn from War?...

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I live in shadow,
a sweet sunflower 
sown on the dark side 
of your selfish need
to dominate each
spot of joy.

Stunted
and shriveled 
my bloom is thwarted,
your need for nectar 
to keep your black soul
satisfied 
leaves me nearly dead....

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the wind of old nails
             broken stones
the sky a gulit of rain
all these stunted trees
             grasp over wet moss
seagulls are unborn children
that cry over the tundra
this is the end of a measured world
this is the e nd ofa mea sured wor ld...

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I wonder what would happen if
You took a feline kit
And put it in a dark glass box
And waited till it fit

Before you gently removed it
And let it come outside
I bet it would be quite stunted
But it would be your pride

©Copyright 2015. All rights reserved....

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Fetters,
in letters,
locked,
in speech,
shut,
in mouth,
stunted,
in ideas,
he simply,
was bound,
no one,
was there,
to bring him around,
he simply miffed,
breathed in,
and asyphixated,
he kept quiet for life,
and died leading,
a life mostly free of rife....

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stunted
     emotions
in
  a troubled maverick

          liberated 
by landscapes
 impassioned
  in pink green & blue

 fixation freedom
in a mountain 
              view 
the provincial peasant 
prevailed 
by
 'art of the askew' 

 still life
     in arrested moments...

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runted rose
stunted pose
pedals arose
medals proposed
gold teeth rattle ing
catches
in
the dirt
bury me
in a bucket
lunacy ends
nevermind
lets lets lets
do it again
think he cant fly
look look look
cloud high
no
there on the bush
its
a
hunted crows
runted rose
?...

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His growth stunted
Not a mean bone
In his body
Nor a spine
To stand and
Be good to himself 

Beaten since a kid
Into subdued
Submission

Echoes of 
His heart
Beating
Within a 
Vacuum
In the depths of
Sunken shame



AP: 3rd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2022

Posted on November 19, 2018...

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Movement up and down the ring
Story lines made for entertainment
Competing for golden belts to display with pride
Stunted choreography happens inside and outside the ring
Wrestler and divas favored by many fans
Fans cheering and booing for who they like or hate
Face or heel is what wrestlers are all about...

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The dirty skeleton of March 
Wears a coat of shredded hope of winter's passing
And drags its feet through wind, rain and blackened snow
In ditches and across fields of stunted grain,
Swirling forgotten leaves of November
Still lying in dead and forgotten flower beds
Blowing away traces and thoughts of a gentle April for now,
But not forever.....

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Time and distance blinks
in a fit of frustration
static turbulence
retards reception of
your explanation

your sun rises as mine rests
against stunted horizons
purple, yellow bruising of
unexpected allegations

take your fair measure of worth
of what belongs to me
I care not for possessions
that bind me to cavernous delusions

of what I once believed...

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The head and face broad and flat,
The eyes set wide apart,
The body-growth stunted,
The tongue protruded,

With squeaky voice,
The child is not wise.
The skin thick, dry and coarse,
The hair rough, sparse and coarse.

The thickened neck small and short,
With supraclavicular pads of fat.
The bulging tummy resembles a pot,
And umbilical hernia resembles a spout....

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Oval lynxed eyes having downward, inward slant,
Present on the sacrum a blue naevus spot.
The flat face and stunted fingers,
With little fingers curved inwards.

Large head with occiput flat,
Present on the iris a ’Brushfield’ spot.
He has fine silky hair
And complexion fair

Right from the birth has a diseased heart,
His tongue is protruded, and he is not smart....

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Father’s first love.
Whipped spirit nurtures new life.
Unreciprocated adoration.
100 kisses of a tickling ‘stashe. 
Mother: face down, step forward.
Feel pain, never expose.
Teenage sweetheart.
Stunted growth.
Teenage father.
Juvenile protector.
Baby crying.
Manipulation?
Nothing in focus. Thick smoke.
Another blow-up.
Develops a reflex.
A broken heart still Beats. Beats. Beats....

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Stunted
Head bowed
He shuffles along
Scared he might stumble

Hesitant
Hands  twitchy
He drags himself
Terrified of all around

Powerless
Eyes nervous
He glances erratically
Intimidated by people passing

Haunted
By memories
He turns around
Glancing back at time

Staring at an incident, an act of man
That crippled his emotions as only a human can....

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Some see a scrubby, stunted wood;
the pure heart sees a pond.
A vision cast into the could -
the gift to look beyond…

And though the plan has not converged
quite fully in my head,
I simply can’t resist the urge
to rend, uproot, and shred.

Reclaiming bits of Eden, I
clear out the brambled vines.
Creation and destruction, by
this, briefly are aligned.
...

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