We wake from the past, though not from sleep,
Where scattered images are a curse to keep.
Copyright © 2026 by Crystal David John
And it’s always gradually getting more horrible, tragic, or real.
Sometimes it’s just blocks falling next to you and you stand up on them.
And then the blocks fall into the earth, and you hope you do too.
Tied up like invisible stuff, no one sees stuff, hurting stuff like nothing anyone wished for.
And you just…
Manage.
I’m a wooden board shredded up because I could splinter.
Hurt the universe with a poke.
And you just manage as the tunnel splinters you away from the ones your almost hurt again.
And you manage.
And you manage a few more days or ten years.
Splinter in finger
Hurting hot unhappy red
Needle probe nightmare
Sewing Needle Horn Haiku.
with sewing needle
mother removed my splinter
needed her to do.
Dawn's light brings hope
Better than the dark of night
Blinding me to the truth of our love
I love you like air
your my every breath
AJ strikes his leg.
His mom screeches
Grab the soup he says!
His mom is quick to cover the splinters bruise
leg his strikes AJ.
descending fast down the staircase rail
got a big ole splinter in my tail
I'm in a world of pain no doubt
unless someone can pull it out
now all I can do is wail and wail
NUDE - descending a staircase Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
10/08/19
We were raised in a large city
Accessed by, car, taxi, or bus
Sidewalks went to who knows where
But the back yard was country to us
Fenced in but hardly containing
Three very large trees we could climb
Half grass, half dirt, where we could run
Our playground for most of the time!
We had fun, my brother and I
And neighbor kids too, there would be
One thing, that we would discover
Was a post leaned against a tree
Where'd it come from, why was it there?
Could we move it if we so deemed?
Did the tree hold it or it the tree?
Could it be heavy as it seemed?
We had fun climbing that old post
Then we'd slide back down on our feet
But it came to a crashing halt
When I tried to slide on my seat!
Attacked by a hook shaped splinter,
My spanking region, it abused
We had to wake up my mother,
She worked nights and was not amused!
Face down on the doctors table
His scalpel, the Doc would apply
And every time he made a cut
Brought a tear to my brothers eye!
Just a memory from the past
A lesson to think first was had
At least though, since that incident,
A spanking did not seem as bad!
Slow falls the gentle smile
and nevermore settles to eyelash light
In humbled sorrow
of now lentissimo rhythms of burdened heart
too sad to utter a moments tear
that wanders petulant on a distressful cheek
I care not says the resolve of whimpering eyes
and to falsify the endeavors of strength
carries this weeping soul
embraced in thunderous acclaims of a wretched throat
Drown myself in weighted parchments
for no voice can repeat this riotous rancour
undisputed without complaint
for life is ever cruel it seems
Slow falls the gentle smile
and evermore settles sluggish on loves intent to dissipate
Within this grey stain assails a violent storm
I rest upon the cold stone of calm
to conquer this agony
for no-one
Slow falls the gentle smile
never willing to relinquish illusions hope
or admit to the the apparitions of despair
but you cannot walk away from the indefatigable spike
their driven nails disparity
obscure Prometheus stop this beating heart
I’m not a cook; my housework stinks.
My writing looks like scrawl;
But if you get a splinter,
I’m the one that you should call.
I have a knack for digging out
Those slivers ‘neath the skin.
With sewing needle sterilized,
I’m ready to begin.
Today the splinter wedged into
The side of my right thumb.
Since I’m a righty, this one was
As tricky as they come.
Yet perseverance ruled the day;
Thought I’d begun to doubt,
A few maneuvers and at last,
I yanked the darn thing out.
My talents aren’t many
(Well, beyond the rhyming scene)
But if I deserve a title,
It would be the Splinter Queen.
The existence, always swivels on pain.
Steps, and steps again....
We do not know where they lead us,
It's as the days crumbles,
and we must live with an iron splinter,
wear it, feel it continually.
It makes forget , sometimes
to the red sun of love,
but soon reappears,
when wounds are bleeding.
Crossing the thongue
We just only have
to drink our own blood.
-
RC
(originally written in french... write me if you want the oiginal version )
Lightening bolts of color frolic across the snow,
Splatter on the ground, bounce off ice crusted pond,
Heralding Icicle’s last rendezvous dance with Spring,
As soft white dove takes silent wing.
Twisted, sculptured shard of frozen translucent reflection,
Suspended from tree limb, aching to touch the ground,
Holding faithfully to flora’s naked outstretched arm,
Safe inside branches hidden from childish harm.
Feeling warm sunbeams as cool winds tickle and tease,
Glinting lights of rainbow prisms, swirling trapped within,
Slowly soften trickling, transforming its very being,
To silky liquid sunshine remodeling a Winter’s dream.
First a tear, now flowing stream, thawing and diminishing.
Born from liquid frost, a sparkling blade of ice,
Bejeweled Crystal Splinter, adorning woodland fir,
Unrivaled rainbow beauty -- a transitory lure.
Now thin shrinking sliver, reluctantly receding,
Wisped into the clouds, down into the waking pond,
Captured by earth, awaiting rebirth next Winter’s Storm,
In Nature’s first ice cascade on a chilly frosted morn.
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