Short Wrung Poems

line against the wall
fat birds too wrung out to drive
later, rooms' sweet ease...

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A song

so good and real:

its creator, his sins,

forgiven, w/ each chord that's struck,

note wrung....

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heart break
hands wrung red,    raw
cancerous lips, chewed sore
nails ripped from their beds bleeding, worn
broken...

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The moon wrung cold tears
from the man’s defeated eyes
a sere memory
of his life without the love
that enabled him to dream....

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What becomes of a poem
       squeezed, wrung out
       to beat a deadline...
  
       Just like the poet
     ~ It's all washed-out...

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I’ve said before,
And say once more
A poem’s monetary worth is nil.

It’s heart-wrung cost
Is always lost
Inside the cash-drawer of the till....

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Poverty

Poverty is like
Being squeezed dry
And then squeezed some more
Then wrung like a barely damp dish towel
And hung on the line to dry slowly...

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That Slick Limerick writ by Bob Quigly, 
'Insane in Maine,' got me so giggly 
I twisted up my tongue; 
so, I swallowed and wrung 
and choked on my long stick of Wrigley....

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Hortense was an Opera singer,
Who thought she was a humdinger.
Every breath that she took,
Screamed like a strangulated chook,
The audience put Hortense through the wringer....

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cross your welter of confusion
i think of you often
in your sadness
questions still standing
a laps wrung of live
i see no clement sky
its the space i'm trying
that courts the day



...

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Bell
peeled, wrung
out, a clean skin,
shiny, clear to ring true,
has piercing dings that penetrate
right through the chaotic din and clatter,
insistent with its message sung:
Chiming
in
...

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anxious
pulse pounds   in throat 
stomach flutters    skin    crawls
metal taste on tongue, a pale pall
heartbreak

heart break
hands wrung red,    raw
cancerous lips, chewed sore
nails ripped from their beds bleeding, worn
anxious...

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  to a narrow plank
    his fingers clung
  hurled overboard
    by a storm that wrung 
  the life from his companions 

  would he slip
    or could he cling
  to this fragile thing
    ‘tween him and the
             unforeseen
...

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My heart was once blackened with each droplet of lies left by him,

Now it hangs iridescently by a tree,

Wrung out are the bloodshot tinted tears,

Leaving me to rest in the velvet dark, 

As his crimson stained memory drips into oblivion....

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"There is no safety this side of Death",
admonished Father Jubal.
There's a chance we've only one more breath;
I'd bet my bottom Ruble!
My iron tongue- my lying lung!
One last dirge to be sung...
But from the depths of Hell, from Heaven fell-
I have climbed up wrung for wrung!...

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I hate how you hurt her
You with your brains inside out
gray fragile thing.
You look like a grossly oversize
condom
mostly wrung out.
Slap you and hit
make you cry.
Your silence and stare
skin of your bones.
Cry baby, Cry baby
cut open our hearts
and scream yourself in....

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She wrung away ache
With meteor rains;
Threw flare coloured stains
Into tomorrow's 
Skies, hoping to flee.

She followed star's
Patterns too far
Into the night.
Too far to see.

Galaxies help
Aid her deep
Repair. To

Tell her
She's not

Lone.

12/12/2019
A Ramshackle Faith
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh...

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What is this life
If managed by all,
it has become empty and
withered 
wrung out of vibrancy,
totally done with this state,
even a heartbeat 
monitored,
a tremble
a word
a message
a line,
all this 
and much more
checked through and through
so many prying eyes,
no privacy
much distress 
what a life!

@colliniewee...

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.

Her eyes 
smile back
at his furtive glances
as she swishes sideways
and flings wet ebony hair 
over her left shoulder, 
revealing a lovely neck 
and nape.


With a towel, 
she caresses her
tresses, turns her head, 
twists the carefree 
sliver of hair. Hurriedly,
wrung water meanders
down, down her 
back.


....

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Through the blackest hours;
     I glimpsed a movement,
Bristling within flames
     Found of opportunity...

With cupped fingers
     I drank of its droplets~
Wrung from the clouds 
     Of security...

It was then I exhaled~
     As the rays of hope encompassed me;
Knowing, I AM has made a way for me --
     Assuredly......

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That child,
looking like flowered rose,
had a rose in hand,
he smirked,
he smelled,
he shook,
and the crook,
finally wrung,
it all,
to smithreens,
with petals,
and sepals,
all strewn,
and flowery powder,
all smeared,
in his gory hands,
did he like the flower,
or the destruction more,
his story narrated all,
in the flowery gore....

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Who walks into forever maudlin and seeking heights misplaced ?
What tortured memories, would mankind wish most undone, unsung?
When time's tide seeks to gather grace, with each painful thought displaced, 
Where fullness bursts, how happy will those emptied heart-holds be once wrung?
Why waste the gift of life seeking solace with such unbridled haste....

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Heartbeat of the world still sounds,
quieter maybe but still it pounds.
She may roar in pain as if giving birth,
but can always find joy and mirth.
no despair in hearts can bear 
to cry and hands wrung saying "no Fair".
Long is the life of a universe created,
will still be alive while we are creamated.

Andrew P.McIntyre      08/09/2023    (c)....

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Some people are meant to be happy
I am not one of the lucky
For I slip through life not unloved,
But unsought
A sponge wrung out by the sun
Yet the greatest tragedy of all
Is not the absence of belonging
Though that I still breath
And roam through moments
Instead of sleeping in the cold ground
Shielded by maggots and worms
Held by the dirt forever...

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you
solar eclipse
bloody lips
& tongue;
body wrung
my eyes drip-
you lap up my
pain like a
hungry beast,
growling thru
gritted teeth.
love lies insulted
far beneath;
above me you strain,
heavy sheets of
rain- heart
beats harder,
drowning in the
pulsing body as
the bruise is 
being prodded.
tickled, you delight
watching the night
swallow me whole....

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