Short Torpid Poems

autumn’s rusty ghosts
haunt the naked cherry trees – 
memories of fruits...
torpid mists enshroud the sun
with prophecies of winter......

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BEING THERE
some folks can be so cool
never,to act the fool,
laid back and taciturn-
this life they do survive,
more torpid than alive!...

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 Twilight torpid pond
Shadow falls on lily pad
Silence broken, croak
Autumn plume of winter air
Watery hibernation....

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Between sips of Julep
birdsong wafts in the air;
busy bees and countless
butterflies abound on
blossoms of buddleia.
But me? I fall into
blissful torpid languor....

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lost in greenery
in torpid noonday sunshine
birdsong drifts on air

painted bunting bird
resplendent in vivid hues
summer of daydreams

toasted lemon clouds
butterflies drift winds of song
inky night waiting...

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BAD COLD

sniff
eyes close
swallow hard
wet misery
like under water
body all hot and numb
torpid   yes    but so relaxed
now come all these home remedies
everyone has a favorite
noodle soup of course    i would rather drown...

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A butterfly, swimming through 
The stagnant air, 
Shivers past the eye
Of an old rustic hound, whose
Paws flinch with a curious, 
Frivolous anticipation.

But, once its muscles shed
Their torpid skin, and
Bones flex, and begin to swing,
It’s gone....

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The poem that sinews on a concept is not iconic.
Despite the torpid pen, the poem may be born sonic.
It lives, adores, and has beautiful kindness.
Laced with subtle clarity in metaphors and fineness.

Written: November 08, 2022...

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new puppy restless
nighttime cries for company…
come torpid coldness 

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey

Fifteenth Place Winner ~ "Very Strict Haiku” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Henderson
Nov. 29, 2011

Kigo: torpid coldness/winter
Caryl Muzzey
11/9/2011...

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Nostalgia  
Endearing, wistful 
Recalling, longing, reflecting, 
Remembering a cherished time
Beloved

Grief
Sorrowful, tragic
Mourning, desiring, paining 
Torpid from heart’s despair
Loss


for Dr. Ram's Cinquain Poetry Contest, 12/13/14...

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I lack words to enjoin in spring
Torpid I fall for Winter's listlessness
like a dusty ornament
I cannot break for freedoms
gust of purification
I long for a valley
its silence an agreement
searching for serenity
of a poet's consciousness
to stay verte
to dream in words...

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A MINATURE WORLD

rockpools left by tide
microcosm of sea life
salt creatures waiting.


INCOMING TIDE

sandcastle at risk
horror on children's faces
nothing to be done.


SHADOWS

dark shadow rippled
over torpid winter sea
no summer echoes...

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Torpid fields of woe
A voice drones like an endless day
What have you come here to mourn ?
Unwrap your plans
Swirl like mirth
Between sunsets and Waterfalls
journeying headstrong
through gateways swirl 
as your pulse surges
To touch the earth
feel the birth
of an untouched mile...

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Today, I look up at the torpid sky,
as I ponder why the sun is hiding,
around a shroud of arrogance,
don’t you know how slow my heart is?
a desire for brighter days,
trying to wipe away my tears?
today, my spirit longs for a ray of serenity.

Written: November 07, 2022...

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An old hammock 
sways in a safe place;
appearances of familiar geometry,
echoes of crashing tidal motion.

This place was always
home to us - this place to 
seek shelter, seek disguise, covet oblivion; 
posit persuasions in waves 
of ocean,

perhaps to cradle a foreign ear,
or disturb the lonely torpid night....

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Encumbered soft with sorrow’s ghost
      Alone among the torpid souls 
   A shadow grows at evening’s host
  Your name dims gently with the sun 
   With every dusk, my heart undone
    Old conversations – sacred scrolls
    The night unfolds, our love rerun
      Sweet sanity returns - almost

                  ABACCBCA...

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Shining in hygienic walls
  A flawlessness hollow
Stiff and gray
  On metal tables
Rested upon unkempt hair
  Recollections merge
Into torpid puddles
  That exquisite beauty
Now shattered
  Engulfed entirely
By conclusions of separation
  I leave with you
A vinyl sack damp and thick
  Sealed shut 
Superfluously removed...

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fall sheds its first leaves
     fine trees are becoming bare -
          golden coloured path

     chilly rain smells near
           no resting place for nature -
                 all bears hibernate

           fireflies lie torpid
                 underground or thick tree barks -
                       warm spring will wake all...

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Horrible blobs
crawling on the radar
threatening detonations
punctuating torpid oppression
promising a merciless deluge

Robotic insects invading
Wrathful humans devolving
Nature devouring
Order dissipating

Ambient lyrical drones
bathing the dystopic landscape
inculcating visions of an alternate world...

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Inhale


my heartbeat slows,
blood sluggish
through stenotic vessels
unwilling to expand,
to breathe
to let blood flow

untenable, this suffocation
this dampening
it speaks of tired eyes,
of stolid limbs,
of stultified need

torpid blood,
when will you give up
your self-imposed stricture,
your closely guarded fear,
your wariness

and inhale...

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The special scarlet of a scheme orchid.
I'm teetering on the verge of a smirk.
You won't hear it when the dimout torpid
The special scarlet of a scheme orchid.
A last leaf's fall is too loud and morbid
A written, unmailed love note in black ink.
The special scarlet of a scheme orchid.
I'm teetering on the verge of a smirk.

Written: February 23, 2023...

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out of the noon slumber
slothful and torpid
solar rays beaming
down on us
the roar of the waves
half drunk in love
high energy portals
instigating tiny desires
you are the creator of your life
breathe into your strength
strengthen your weakness
and then
weaken your strength
you will be balanced
and hence
beautiful
her wisdom was caressing
the thin air

july 12 3.47 pm...

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Have you heard the Panther’s roar?	
A sickly sweet odor.
He traps his prey in his paws,
devours them with beastly jaws. 

Have you heard the Panther’s roar?
Three torpid days, he’ll snore.
Appetite he can’t sate. 
Constant hunger is his fate.

Have you heard the Panther’s roar?
He requires so much more.
Dragon eludes him despite his feat. 
He’ll never taste the other white meat....

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Sheer lucid waves caress this oyster beach,
an aqua drowse viewed through a saffron lend,
and siren rip tides coax into a breach
as lambent grains of sand insouciant wend
the dunes of torpid eons through the bend
of hourglasses warped like new-blown glass.
In half-remembered mimes soft breezes send,
behind my eyelids as sweet lilts amass,
the plucking of a lyre string as high seagulls pass.

4/6/18...

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The encumbrance of
life
Copious and
never-ending
A leaching
gangrenous wound
In need of
dismemberment
From his torpid soul

The medicinal
elixirs have raped
the mind
And replaced it with
a dense syrup 
That makes
cognition, onerous 
He cares for nothing
Feels nothing—is
nothing

A means to an end
Has him captivated
Fixated on the task
Relief is at hand
But he lacks the
strength and courage...

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