Short Teething Poems

I was born
I was teething
My teeth fell out
They came back
They fell out again
I died...

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Incrementally dead
And barely caught breathing
Caring for a child experiencing teething
Which 1 the mother?
Which 1 the child?
In this game of life
I see rules not apply
As both will die
Hopefully in arms...

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Oh Ode, my Ode, I adore you
Splendid your structure, tight your form
You glow in your flow until people forget
your power.  Shine on, gentle Ode
your prosperity's still roughly teething
on you beauty your sultriness
your wisdom subtlety beaming....

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If we knew in advance that all daughters and sons
keep us up every night: yours and mine — everyone’s
(teething, peeing and screaming,
yet so INNOCENT-seeming),
we’d be living in convents like well-rested nuns....

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Nothing has felt softer on my face
Like a fresh breeze with tenderness
She swings her small fragile arms
Slaps my face with soft palms
She blossoms with a teething smile
Giggling at me to make a screeching cry
I speak gibberish to keep her wowed
A clown to wipe out the frown on my child...

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I find myself a guest in this house.
Extraordinary creature,
Rest at display.
Awake before the sun will rise.
Mysterious fortune,
Come and arrive.
Drifting into hopeless dreams.
Bloodied teething,
Smile and beam.
Reaching for a wrinkled birth.
Volume of difference,
Drink in the earth....

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Perky, pesky, pretty-petite;
yippy, yappy, always-in-need-of-a-treat.
Loving, lazy, little-lump;
Cutie, cuddly, see-how-high-I-can-jump?
Spoiled, sneaky, snacky snoot,
Munching on old chips, teething on mum's leather boot,
overly-sweet, oogling oaf,
maybe-just-a-bite-or-perhaps-the-whole-loaf....

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Love of the heart;
Love of the mind,
Oceans apart
Never to rhyme

The heart,
While shadowing function
As fast as eruption,
Gives back for consumption

The mind,
So selfish and needy,
Brings Hell to the leaving.
Babes, helpless and teething

Love of the heart;
Or of the mind?
One needn't a chart
The other is blind...

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Western wars brought to foreign fields
Bullet barrages blocked by grim guillotines
Petulant petrol fans the flickering flames
Courageous captains solder soldiers together
Teething tigers ripped from mad mothers to 
Carry demented decisions from bribed bullies
All hail the casket caravans of yesterday's youth...

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So gracefully grazing the sky,
Higher than blue birds fly

Above the cauliflower clouds,
Below the starry crowds

Such a commanding machine of man,
Speedily sweeping the land;


Now carefully descending down,
Their gaze cast to the ground

A frightful fearsome eye,
A baby child's cry

Ensnared in a teething trap
The towers did collapse....

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Cold Night

Rainy is this night,
And she got me teething like a bat.
Her warm talks soaked my eyes.

I'm impressed by her extra rhythm.
She has secure my heart;
With her angelic voice and smile.

She has gotten my head on a pop;
A lot of love and joy has filled my cup;
For I'm the man of her heart
Emerging pastor of her church....

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grandma’s kitten was outrageously large
The guy at the pet store had said “no charge”
They had to get rid of it by end of day
Grandma loved that she did not have to pay

The kitten ate bags of kibbles by the dozen
And chewed off the leg of a slow-moving cousin.
He’s teething grandma rapidly explained to us.
We could hardly stand this little cuss!...

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<                   oh ode old ode please come to me
                     illuminate frowned smiles
                     rejuvenate twinkle in eye
                     your task steady fast my old ode
                     your victory renowned thus crowned
                     soothing as childs teething bisquit
                     your demeanor captivating...

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wearisome is the ardent wine, 
icy corridors
we sooty birds descend nimbly into nests
high in drear corridors, collecting leafy glisten

among the psychotic-seeming industry
and throng of souls' bitter rinds.
i, tunneled roots, blackened bark clinging
feebly peel away, reveals then
what teething bishops sung.

a petty triumph of marrow... boxcars and
 boxcars clangin' fertile to the 
fallen ladders...

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While planning which sermons to miss
the fiction-broker static lies
atop a pine-strewn precipice,
his peristalsis boiling skies.

The tumult teething down beneath
the fiction-broker's solvent sighs
concerns the crumbled ashen wreath,
whose burning so the priest denies.

As lanterns light procession tips
sadistic laughs combine with cries;
the fiction-broker slurps his lips
at thoughts of those he does despise.
...

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A glimpse out the window morphs into a gaze
Brugmansia, your mystical delicate beauty clears
Air conditioned stupor. There you sway
Gracefully grasping toward thirst-quenched solidity.  
Firmly rooted one strand beyond limp susceptibility
Leaves randomly ragged from young rodents' teething
Swelteringly bearing the dark side of nature
Fresh blossoms emanate dignity's essence
Despite gloomy doomsday predictions
Angel trumpeting goodness and peace....

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Forgetful baby 
Wallows in the night 
Screaming out 
With dry eyes. 
Bruised up child 
Cleaning up her sorrows 
Before morning comes and questions are asked 
Baby girl forced to give in 
Teething on her bed sheets 
Scratched her thighs 
With greasy nails 
Water droplets cold on her forhead drowning in the tub thats meant to cleanse 
In a room filled with the scent of bile, liquor, and shampoo. 
Its over. 
Its quiet.
For tonight at least....

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Here inside am I, 
A fragile flower failing, 
Hushed and sweetly stilled, 
No weeping and no wailing; 
Just the throbbing hum of power 
Breathing for me in my sleeping, 
Giving artificial life 
When the shadows get to creeping. 

Here inside am I, 
A baby barely breathing, 
Curled and warmly wrapped, 
No tantrums and no teething; 
Just the sacred gift of being, 
Silent beating night and day, 
Born of some far lesser God, 
Perfect in some different way....

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My knuckle busters peel
In an attempt to escape
Stuck in this life
Where the wall of prejudice erects an inertia

My dismal host so generous
The tongue of this hostage it evirates
Desires to brabble for help
Turns out a wish-wash wish

The teething ring in my mouth
Makes me a false of myself
And I can't refute this hell
To passers-by my expression seems hee

Now I hurl in my towel
Let go of my invincible hope
No rescue from this life
Doom, my hope has turned...

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Some, like nothing better than to complain

about allergies, sore backs, or slow lines.

They stress out over and over again

on anything from potholes to road signs.

They seem to think that the sun never shines.

I’m not a big fan of the bellyaching

from people who find fault with everything.

They remind me of the constant whining

of babies chewing on a teething ring,

when they’re not complaining, they’re reclining.


(Dizain)


03/22/2020...

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Seething skies like bloodshot eyes,
wailing gales assailing through canyon ~ 
weeping fits, ember storm cries
bristling tears with random abandon.

East to west, unwanted guests,
downsloping dire breeds with fire
fueling fest of fiery crests
aborning hells of unholy spire.

Santa Ana merciless winds breathing
capricious firebrands kindle tinder teething.


Susan Ashley
December 26, 2017


~ Tenth Place ~
10 Lines, 5 Words: Rhyme - Premiere Contest
Laura Loo - Sponsor...

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