Snarled Poems | Examples

The Sunspots of Summer Outbreak

I’m twisted
into submission;
admission
to true world
of imaginary breeze
and coconut salt.

I’m a seed,
slipping into sand,
letting go.
The wild sea’s
crest and trough didn’t swallow me,
silence me - my thoughts.

Roots, a muse -
rest and recreate;
drudge baggage
ditched at shore.
The dunes spoil me with their grit
and pink hydrangeas.

Sunglasses
recover my eyes;
sunburn writhes
on my skull.
Hair in free fall, snarled and damp,
like anemones.

An assault
of coconut breeze
in true world;
admission
into twisted submission
of relaxing waves.

The sunspots
of Summer outbreak.
I bring pail
and shovel.
I shore up castle, today,
midst whirlpool of moat.

The true world
tries to interfere,
as I splash
cruel eyes.
My hands and feet completely
disappear…left - write!

Dissonance a Forked Tongue in Cheek

You sound like a fingernail
dragged over a blackboard.
Every word cast as blackmail
from a forked tongue in cheek.
Bathed in the vile, bile of diatribe,
masticated to be flung as dung expelled.
Your snarled words reek with 
the dissonant cadence of discordance.
As your eyes flicker
from side to side with lies,
you look away, unable 
to face me, eye to eye,
unmasked,
unshielded,
nakedly exposed,
in tune tonality,
truthful.

Tornado Jim Competes with his Sister

Tornado Jim was an unruly evil F-5.
He barely left anyone alive.
Threw cattle and tractors into the air.
Crushed combines and backhoes; he did not care.

Gloated that he had destroyed more farms than his sis.
She gave him a mean finger and snarled with a hiss.
Next time she destroyed, she vowed to be worse than him.
She was always in competition with Tornado Jim.

How Wrong Could I Have Been

In my youthful days,
I thought those country ways,
were for hillbillies and hicks.

Watching fat cows graze,
in early morning haze,
was no way to get my kicks.

Clear blue skies ablaze,
under those golden rays,
just did not give me a fix.

Was those city ways,
where I gave all my praise,
I preferred concrete and bricks.

Down streets like a maze,
at skyscrapers I’d gaze,
traffic jams snarled in the mix.

Now when my mind strays,
here in these old age days,
I dream I’m back in those sticks.

Yo Ho Ho Lets Let Judy be Captain

Judy’s catchy enthusiasm galvanized our pirate crew
so we set sail down the seven seas, ocean blue
yo-ho-ho- we sang loudly, merry and gay
other fearsome pirate ships moved out of our way

excitement permeated our mission, our spirits high
we kissed all our hardships, doubts and do nots goodbye
stirred up, we were filled with crazy amounts of joy and glee
ready to be as evil and mean as Simon La Gree

We are going to make our enemies walk the plank we sang
giving exuberant cheers, our enthusiasm as loud as a bang
we snarled and grouched, and fought over who would be chief
arguing all the way to the largest West Indies big reef

she had set our hearts afire, giving us confidence galore
We were still arguing about it, when we reached a sandy shore
in a very short time, our Judy was elected captain by a vote
I could not argue about it in this island, remote

Blood and Kin, Part II

...His hand flashed fast, the Colt spoke loudly,
Dalton was struck, flew back wildly.
Silas shifted right, cut down that man,
still fumbling with the gun in his hand.

The other man threw his hands up high,
said Silas, “Run, or you too will die.”
The bandit scrambled, leaving the bar,
Dalton still breathed, but wouldn’t get far.

“In what wourld could we ever be kin?”
snarled Silas, standing over him.
“When you get there, find Satan and tell
him how a Hamlin sent you to Hell.”

Dalton’s breath rasped, the fear present now,
wanting mercy he’d never allowed,
but Silas cared not, slowly took aim,
then sent a bullet straight through his brain.

The saloon was still, people hiding,
Silas straight up, gun still smoking,
said to the bartender, “Sorry for the floor.”
flipped him some gold, then strode out the door.

Free will

love whispered
come hither
let’s entwine

ego snarled
brewing angst
as thought forms

our free will
makes a choice
how we live

As Blood Running Through Veins

Unearthed, their vivid colors bloom as buds unfold
wafting in Mariah's breeze, in hues bright and bold
Beautiful flowers, mere words cannot rhapsodize
Secreted are their roots, from sight of human eyes

Concealed beneath the ground, tangled and gnarled
lies their source of strength, enmeshed and snarled
As blood in a man's veins, roots sustain botanical life
A blow to their vitality if afflicted with human strife

Blossoms would wither and die on each delicate stem
Gardens destroyed in the gruesome state of mayhem
The splendor of a flowering landscape adorns the Earth
but credit the source; the Hand engendering their birth

Chasing Secrets

In shadowed halls, I've followed the quiet threads of power,  
Charting each muffled cry, its subtle sway in time, 
Silently navigating the veiled histories held in their gaze.  

Indeed, the world is more than a stage for veiled hands,  
And the moon a silent sentinel of their secret rites, 
In hidden rooms, the sacred vow shifts to silent betrayal.  

I turn not to the relics of old secrets worn thin,  
Nor seek the stark truths in ruins of ancient bonds.  
Shadows are draped like promises, speaking of deeper dawns.  

I've roamed the archives under the quiet moon's watch,  
Untangling the snarled webs of alliances that bind.  
Yet, they hold fast.  

Sometimes, I long for the veils to be drawn back completely.  
In the quiet corridors, triumphs speak their tales;  
The secret heart pulses with the rhythms of old truths.

Mystique of a Tale

Disney take on the Fox and the Hound
Where two pups form a bond so profound.
Naive to concede
The strife of their breed,
Delicate friendship is doomed to fail.

With hunting dogs don’t let your guard down,
Don’t buy into the fox and the hound.
Poignant puppy eyes
Are traps in disguise,
With snarled teeth onto red bushy tail.

With foxy folks don’t let your guard down,
Don’t buy into the fox and the hound.
Conniving and sly,
Contriving a lie,
Fox fights fierce for its life, tooth and nail.

Disney bond of the Fox and the Hound
In a real world yet to be found.
Big Mama’s advice -
Owl symbol of wise -
Leave it to the mystique of tall tale.

Trying for a Better Daughter

Their daughter was not nice
She was a mean girl
They had mis-parented her
By allowing her to be in charge

It was too much for her
She was spoiled, disappointed and angry.
She growled and snarled at them
They were the enemy – her parents.

So they built a robot.
This daughter will be perfect they said.
But they spoiled their daughter robot too
She poisoned their food

He-She-It-They

My gran doesn’t ‘get’ this woke society
I told her that there’s a new sobriety
We went for a walk to see what we would see
And show her we all can be what we will be

Men can be women and girls can be boys
And most men in showbiz have that certain poise
I’ve seen a guy wearing a little black dress
And people whose gender is something to guess

But live and let live is the latest doctrine
Though sometimes I wouldn’t know where to begin
Someone approached us in pink dungarees
And Doc Marten boots and a beard to ‘their’ knees

With glitter mascara, diamanté tiara
A dog tag that said nothing more than ‘Tamara’
‘Their’ Mohican hair style was quite a strange sight
Twas dyed rainbow colours and went left to right

I tried not to notice ‘their’ tightly strapped breasts
But bits were protruding from her (their) string vest
In an unguarded moment I said, “Evening Miss.”
He/she/it/they gawped and said, “That’s remiss.”

I told he/she/it/they, “I’m not of this age
So don’t take offence, please don’t get in a rage.”
‘They’ strode off and snarled like a pantomime cat
And my little old gran said, “What The F*** Was That?”

Cat Guards Haunted Mansion

There is an old hag that guards the way, she’s a witch, I think.
This was told to me by a child with large eyes and cheeks so pink
I wanted to climb up those stairs to the haunted mansion anyway.
So, I ignored her warnings at the end of this Halloween day.

The black cat I met at the bottom gave me an insane stare.
I felt he could bite my arm off and would not even care.
What is your name? I asked, thinking to make conversation.
He snarled and clawed me on my foot without hesitation.

I shrieked and screamed and wailed and ran from the steps.
He was on me like a thrown bit of dynamite said my cousin Peps.
I was so horrified, that I was not sure what had happened in truth.
You were screaming like a banshee baby said my cousin Ruth.

Hunting Trust In Adversity

Written: September 07, 2023
______________________________________________________________

I can't sleep at night, so I stay alive.
I am awake, and I search and strive.
I'm no warrior, just a bumbling scrambler.
Restless nights render me a rambler.

I crave a paladin, a light to guide my way.
Yet, gloom reigns, and all hope wanes away.
Into a cloud of tedium and torpor of a tongue.
I long for silence, for optimism to be wrung.

Capsized in an abyss of frustration,
For solace, a catalyst in this desolation.
My gloom clings to such a symbiote spawn.
Snarled metastatic root quotum-dot drawn. 

Hush, my tired soul, and let illusions fade.
In this darkness, all that is a masquerade.
Seek not the light, for it is only a gleam.
Rather, apply the recess to deem it a dream.

In the gloom, where shadows dance and play.
It is a quiet oasis where anxiety withers away.
I need faith, resilience, and perseverance.
To explore this squalid earth sans inherence.

How Can You Live With These Creatures

there were yellow cats in Willow's sinks, gray cats on the stairs
Cats in the kitchen, next to the frig, you were caught unawares
kittens in the pantry, an old gray tom on the stove.
they spilled out of the windows into the large apple grove.

how can you live with all of these creatures? her mother said.
An withered old hair-sparse tabby hissed at the woman’s head.
Her daughter laughed and said “Don’t mind old Red.”
Then she began opening tin cans, for she kept her creatures fed.

They ran in from the stable, they ran in from the barn.
Hearing that tin open, brought them in from balls of yarn.
They fought and spit and snarled as they fought over their cat food.
Putting Willow's outraged mother into a worse more angry mood.

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