Short Welts Poems

flower of beauty welts   dies in the wake of time so   as the body

12/23/2019...

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Flashing neon sign danger.
The typical teenager.
And this son wouldn't listen.
Total hormone affliction.
He weed-whacked the old man.
Red welts but no stitches.
So, I had to open a can.
Changed his whole Disposition....

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Threnody dirges miseries
Severance of machinations
The gravedigger’s shovel buries
These coffin crypt lamentations
Lachrymose welts filling levees
Life’s vile xenotransplantations
Psychopomp as a wraith’s whisper
Dust swept away by a zephyr...

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Buzzing above me
Whizzing through shadowy flight
Stabbing fangs in skin
Causing welts and itchy bites
Festering plots slay these pests





A Buggy Tanka Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
August 21, 2021

...

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Today you walked out of my life,
and I’m forever glad.
You always tried to make me change,
I’m sorry I’m so sad.

But I cannot change my awful ways,
as it’s the only thing that helps.
So just thank god that you can’t see,
the damage beyond the welts....

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My shadow stood brave upon the wall
watching the child 
stumble and fall
arms extended
for protection
blows landing 
from every direction
crumbled in
a crying heap
my shadow doesn’t
even weep
purple welts
on body so small
My shadow stood brave upon the wall
...

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Rock away baby
in your tree top,
When Earth winds blow
our cradle can't stop

And all Her Queen's horses
and all old bald white men
can't put Her regathered
together again.

Her welts raise our stories
of struggle and sin,
our strengths are new songs
about old wounds gone wrong....

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Looking through you
I’m not here
Stinging cheek
Slap I wear
Falter feet
Childish sway
Stand erect
Hide dismay
Now the belt
Take my pride
Purple welts
Jeans will hide
No regret
No remorse
Your own child
A whipping horse
Roll my eyes
Greatest sin
Your que to let
The pain begin
...

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My co-worker saved money by purchasing fake Calamine lotion.
The other eight people’s itching was gone in three days.
Her poison ivy welts are oozing, still bright red. 
She is scratching and it has been three weeks.
Here is two dollars I say. Spring for the real Calamine lotion.
She spends it on a soda pop instead....

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13 Scratches an evil number.
Blood on your back while you slumber.
I thought I would be safe here,
I guess not.
Welts on your skin.. Burning hot.

Leaving the demon pentagram
Now this time you will learn.
Not to play with something
This evil, it will burn.

Turning my back
Running away.
From this evil thing
Don't come or stay....

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A hidden lump was revealed 
in annual ritual.
You flung open the gates-

to take away the regal pain.
Was it a reprisal
for a purple nail ?    

Withdrawl was threatening.
In the line of fire
comes the guilt. 

The suicide in the goddess
womb ? Celebrate if
you pull out.

Floating on the drifting
threat. The welts will sing
the erotica.


Satish Verma...

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If I could tell you...

How I felt...

Every time... 

The monster...

Whipped me...

With his belt.... 

Welts upon my flesh... 

He left...

But they're not...

The only...

Scars... 

You'll see...

Pain still festers...

Deep...

Inside of me...

Tears...

Drowning...

With my pleas...

The Mother... 

Who...

Forsook me. 


Vickie Thayer 2018...

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It was a severed finger
in an envelope,
which wrote the letter
of consent.

Oh, my father
I am still crying
with loss of words
and figures.

Past the hills
I sent the secret of
my poems which did not tell
me the name of knife-

that was put in my back
by my unknown
brothers of shame. I will
now bleed all life.

It was only an
apology. I will still
walk with my toes drawing
the stripes of welts.


Satish Verma...

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News of pumpkin man
With a pumpkin for a head
A great big, large man
Going down, waiting for you
Looking into your window

With him seeing in
You find him, and scream in fear
You flee, run away
Never to look back again
The fear lives in you always

And the pumpkin man
Lives on, story never told
For the fear welts in
A large lump within your voice
He may still look in on you

Russell Sivey...

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Who is that child with his eyes to the floor.?

Who is that child that shakes when there's a bang 
On the door.?

Who is that child with broken shoes on his feet?

Who is that child that searches for something to eat?

Who is that child with eyes that are black?

Who is that child with welts on his back?

Where is that child who is not here today?

That  child is now gone and the pains gone away.......

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My energy I conserve, 
Not for the guests seats
I have yet to reserve
Nor for their paid meat
I should carefully preserve…
Squarely for the nice treat
My boys deserve.

Their negligence I’ve grasped
And at it gasped
And hands of shock clasped!

Now, my voice to be a rasp
And my sting that of a wasp:
Welts to on skin break out,
Pain-enduring lips pout;
In drug stores no liniment
For their energy-backed punishment....

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She flushes and drops bright eyes
to hide my image...
I cup her face and drown it.

     [me]

She breathes hesitantly, mouth
Pressed and obstinate...
I gather her corners up.

     [drawing that smile again]

She welts tearlines onto the
Pale perfection: skin...
I wet my thumbs, agonized.

     [her sorrow breaks]

She sleeps, curls framing movement
And serenity...
I weave myself into both.

     [touching the ends of eternity]...

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We are no longer ordinary human beings,
Nine Eleven, The Iraqi War,
and Oil Spills, have turned us into a nation
of survival fiends,
A nation of fighters,
excelling beyond the boundaries that
have been set or the traps that we have
met along the way, from the youngest to the oldest,
We have learned to endure and overcome 
the hand of devastation that the enemies have dealt,
and although they have left their welts upon us,
We stll exist............

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Yeah, he ran away,
at the age of thirteen.
His old man was a drunk,
and beat him real mean.

Now everyone knows,
It's a real sad Deal.
A runaway kid,
with nuthin to eat.


Then somebody said,
He wanted to roam.
NO, he was Abused,
and fled on his own.

He took what he had,
and put down some tracks.
A lot of bad dream's,
And the Welts on his back.


So, Everyone Knows,
It's a Very Bad Scene,
When Adults Abuse Kids 
Then Get Away Clean....

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child has puffy eyes
welts on her legs
eyes cast downward

professionally guarded
refusing to talk
trusting no one

closed tighter than an encyclopedia
thoroughly indoctrinated 
to not share family business

school staff is aware
tries to establish trust relationships
to no satisfactory end

child comes up missing
photo pops up on channel five news
body never found

spirit unrecovered also
a memory of a child
haunting school staff forever...

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Two solid rocks stand tall and firm
With a sunset soon around the bend
Upper sky the bluest of rays
Being between two rocks, sun displays

Grey and blue stone welts in the sky
Where pink clouds bond with the water dry
Yellow near the surface, eye-line
Sunset begins with a wry divine

Open the space, I see the end
Below is the feel of heartfelt lend
Red and gold enfold together
Nothing is better than this weather

Russell Sivey...

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Hello empty, futile nothingness
Our paths meet once again.
Your black tunnel eyes bore into mine
In you I see slate sky pouring rain.

Forever running from this
In unforgiving nothingness again.
And good people’s eyes wash over me
They never stop to take me in.

I carry on, there’s nothing else
In unforgiving nothingness again.

I peel this onion once again
Bleeding tears of acid rain.
I find comfort in the welts of pain
In unforgiving nothingness again....

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Over the hills rests complacency...
on the cusp of deny...

In search of truth and honesty...
inner remedy resides...

experience matures...
as gravity ensues...

Over the hills  rests complacency...
my free will exists...

Over the hills of complacency...
like a mountainous divide...

A bruised ego welts...
borrowed feelings attempt to hide...

Over the hills rests complacency...
I believe I left it there...

For tomorrow will be a better day...
for today I am aware......

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By her tongue, honey gold, 
Tipped with steel lashes; 
Eyes behold with narrowed ire, 
Stinging welts; and crashes 
Through the barrier of skin, 
The naked perimeter fence, 
A culture clashes in some 
Past or present tense. 
Substituting words to heal 
With jackal-lipped unkindness, 
Juxtaposing dark for light, 
My love accepted blindness 
At each and every stroke, 
By her tongue, poison black; 
I forgive and kiss her lips 
For all the times she took it back....

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I watch you pull at the sheets, 
tugging my hair and in a pattern of expectations
-you always meet.
Nails in my skin, digging deep. 
Welts building up, and sounds break our heavy silence,
I knew what you wanted from what I could see.
Sin clouds our pure, clean minds,
I look up at your hand intertwined in mine.
Hell yeah, this is it.. out of breath I gasp in air, 
you're loving this, pulling at my hair.
To get a little dirty is never a bad thing,
when you're searching to please....

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