Short Thresh Poems

thresh the grain of honeyed hue....feed faint 
barren hungry of the nations...

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Knowledge of Nature
Understands delicate things-
Thresh lightly small seeds...

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Thrust a dagger into my heart
Thresh me with a flail
Lay me on a bed of thorns
Give me a chalice of hemlock
Burn me on a funeral pyre
Banish me to the Sahara...
And I will only smile,
Because I am in love!...

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Celestial moments 
acquired while touching 
heaven's door 
Airtight dreams of gold
dust particles, 
finding their way home 

Across an aerial thresh hold 
a key hole of awe
soulant inquisitive inquiries  
how did I get here, 
do I belong here ?...

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Anointed in Kerosene to confer in agony with ignited desecration of mortal flesh to bone, seared by melting anguish writhe blistering contortions through a suppressed discomfort in furious continual thresh heshers pernicious by physical immolation.

Written on Apr/27/2024...

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You know within that you are right!

Your words tear at our guarded flesh.
Canines raging at every bite.
Life's essence weeps after each thresh.
Silence does not mean we agree.
Taking each jab of your blunt prong,
Our eyes fixed on what you don’t see.

I must ask you, "What if you're wrong?"

11/10/17...

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Glimmers of glazed frosting levels,
enticing blissful specials,
scatters the blues of blue devils,
encased sailing vessels.

Rejuvenating windswept fresh,
limb held chirping bird thresh,
ever-changing flourishing mesh,
awaken breaths gooseflesh.

Spectacular melting winter,
beautician scene tinter,
the wood cord, no logs, just splinter,
skier last day sprinter....

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He lures his victim
Into a glass prism
Filled with fake diamonds
That turns to water and ice

The top closed
His fate sealed
To kick and thresh 
To escape his wrath

He appears through the glass
Looking straight into his eyes
The drowning victim 
Unwittingly drawn to him

In his desperation he can’t look away
In his fighting he’s ensuring his stay
His eye sockets frozen still
For him to take his soul...

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A memory of tears filled eyes
How can I forget this precious aisle?
The aisle you walk in your gown-shy
Now carries your silent and dire

How can I whisper to you love
How you looked as a dove
Ah! The memory is green and fresh
The night of our all white and thresh

Look at you o! Once beautiful aisle
You are my dread on you my light fade
Sermon given to my love as she goes to grave
The grace I ask to face this maze...

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Muhammad Butler

Joker's poem

There's the mighty joker

We wondering if he ever played poker

But only supplies a bad body odor

But the fact remains his a filthy flirter.

Wondering if his jokes are taking him somewhere

But the bottom line is that he doesn't care

Weather or not he his been compared with someone

There he is fighting batman

But now on the backhand

Simply judge because he lives in a thresh can....

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I'm a briny whore
wit' reekin' drawers
me honor ter make yer acquenchance
th' skipper's maid
me port's decayed
one doubloon, yer seafarin' urchin?

Yer scurvy rat
a-crawl wit' gnat
orf seadog scourged wit' rabid 
yer cannon's immense
'tis cocked 'n tense
yer cutlass be yearnin' me scabbard

Yer stench o' sewer
me bits'll chew yer
bumps 'n boils 'n rottin' flesh
yer britches singe
yer helm unhinge
ter boot yer hornpipe thump 'n thresh

2013-11-20...

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I know its morning
By the fragrance of your hair
It sings me again to sleep
Day comes dividing
Us into chores, and despair
For what no life dares to keep

I want to drink fresh
The nectar of your dark lips
I crave no other healing
Though my heart would thresh
Where eternity still drips
Even though we went to sleep

With open eyes see
Nothing here but a dream. You
Left long ago, too long now
And that makes you free
And I wary that I do
Not desert you, nor my vow...

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            dark wonder through a mist
        the evening, brumal, kissed
   with gloaming’s glowing fires
 the breaths of hearts’ desires
a spot where magic schemes
to shape the meat of dreams
 and mold from common flesh
   what wands alone can thresh
       this realm from make-believe
            that only words could weave.









(For Jo - sweet life’s reprieve)








Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, December 4, 2022...

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