Squirming Poems | Examples

guinea pig

I feel the worms,
of the bed bugs,
of squirming
not hesitating
bursting
to get to my skin.
My death,
is his burial
and walk to
oblivion....
I can't blame
as I never found
my own heaven.
My own
conflations here
I face my guilt.
while your felt,
is my oppression
to your demons
that you can't face
So here is your haste.......
Your perversions
to someone a-sexual
and was playing
you to death.
I will face my maker
and never a faker,
You're a Satanist
and never believed,
I'm not your guinea pig
and never was here,
I won't judge your heresy,
God will face your demons...

An All Night Rain

An all-night rain: the smell
of sogged-down leaves and woods
stirs up feral urges: to tramp
the wetness like a snouted creature,
kicking up dead leaves, poking
deep for squirming things, sniffing
earthy scents for spongy roots,
gulping down mushrooms
with black grit, the bristly haired
skin taut and wet, until the belly
bloats and sags, generating heat
like a boiling cauldron.

A snake is not a snake

The day comes
When a snake is not a snake
Slithering, scared less
Silent screams as I shake
A snake is a dream turned nightmare
Labored breaths and cold sweat
Visions of a snake-filled hall
I've not endured yet
Then, a snake is fevered
Half hour shower on the ground
Climbing straight into bed
Without burning a cloud
A snake is the process
Of turning fear into guilt
A fake moral failing
In the eyes that I've built
A snake is not dramatic
Squirming scared in the sun
A snake is not a snake
But I hope it becomes one

genesis

i remember now
the sucking whoosh and rattle
of my life
as I was uprooted
still squirming - caught now
in the slalom clutch
of a blood smeared latex glove

a world as cold as a morgue
coagulated around senseless perceptions
a fluent reality that dripped slowly
into clotted forms

for a moment I wallowed
in that instinctual mud
that is both a sacrifice
and a subterfuge
a lamb born not to suckle
but to swallow all before it

if i was aware of anything
other than
my newly crushed heart
it was just the fading echo
of an erstwhile progenitor
either weeping
                          or laughing

SNEAKY SLIMY SLITHERING SERPENTY SNAKE

The sneaky, slimy, slithering, squirming snake silently sat shamefully,
Stupendously-stumped.

The seated, sizzling, sneaky, slimy, slithering serpent still stupendously-stumped,
Squirmed slowly searching signaling scents.
With no stopping the squirming, silently-sneaky, slithering, shamefully-stumped serpent searching sign, the snake slithers sizzling surround sound.

Only with punishment, the slithering, slimy, silent, shamefully-stumped serpent stops sin-searching.

Now, be a bumble bee, buzzling big bumble bubbles and not a sneaky, slimy, squirmy, sin-searching, soul-scary, shamefully-stumped surround sound serpent-sizzling, sazzling, skimmed-scaled snake..•

Grasshopper

You are alive,
squirming in my hand
like a dissatisfied infant
or a fish searching for water.
You are alive, we are alive.
There is something the same in us-
some spark undefinable,
except by contrast to its cold absence: death.
You have a mind and survival instincts
and stoic eyes like a sixth sense I cannot recognize.

The quiet of the dissection room
is heavy like the quiet of a tomb.
You would not understand my appology
and are too young yet to sing,
as I damn you to this silence eternally.
What is the gentlest way to end a life?
Oh certainly not this.
And which thought is more sickening
that God will not forgive this small act of killing
or that He deem it no sin in need of forgiving?

You were alive in my hands.
I am alive, you were alive.
You were in my hand.
Now everything should be different,
but life is so fragile and commonly broken
that everything keeps moving.
Like Cain, like Ivan, I keep moving
because life is for the living, for the killers,
for the things that bite 
wandering the earth until they too are bitten.

Alice, Alex; Amber

It’s not often we’re together
you and I
within this unconscious soul,
drugs;
alcohol last time we met.
And, as before,
always,
we’ll fight
the two of us
like squirming ferrets
in this gray sack
she calls her mind.
Who will prevail before she wakes?
The one that doesn’t 
recognize
the child she bore?
The one that spits and shouts
at everyone comes near?
There was a third,
we buried it some time ago;
we together,
in some forsaken corner.
Yet still;
it appears
in some dreams she has.

An Accursed Grin

Inside me shrieking like a banshee,
dark shadows hold an accursed grin;
Old wounds are licked fastidiously;

Always wreaking havoc painfully,
squirming below my butter soft skin;
Inside me shrieking like a banshee; 

My darkest demons they run madly
and feed on that deeply buried sin;
Old wounds are licked fastidiously;

Any who harbor them would agree 
it’s easy to tell where they have been; 
Inside me shrieking like a banshee;

They taste just like insecurity;
You can feel it before they begin, 
old wounds are licked fastidiously;

No matter how I try I can’t flee
they’re that part imbedded within;
Inside me shrieking like a banshee, 
old wounds are licked fastidiously.

nothing like a lap full of wet dog

nothing like a lap full of wet dog
I am not talking about chlorine pool wet dog
Rather referring to a muddy golden retriever
Who smells like a swamp monster
Takes a flying jump and lands on my lap
Squirming around until he has taken over my recliner
Which now smells totally like muddy wet dog
Beau is our newest puppy, and I love him
I will put up with this until he gets tired of swimming
Which may be never

It Is Not Your Time

Saturday, wouldst be Sadder Day
nineteen seventy-five
purple skies dusk twilight display
friend and I, still alive

Sleepyheads, car seats unbuckled
Russian roulette enroute
shut eyes refused a wakeup call
rabbit foot wore a boot

Squirming confirming not our time
go get out while you can
opportunity just-in-time
two tired souls and more than

Clueless me, whys and wherefores
reveal relevancy
this, that, and all those therefores
transcends generously

small things

sun …

glints off sweaty trickles as
they plop … plop …
little lad’s littler fingers tickling a
tide pool’s papery face
things of mysterious intention, darting
there to here to there …
wide eyes wider in amazement
tiny thrums quick’ning
dividing breaths
like swells divide the time
and tides …
a splash and a grasp, tightening
some small watery beast
cold-red cheeks blooming wide to
parody the dazzled bay
grins and giggles to mock the black-backs
for this shrimpy monster, squirming
is the prize of a wee fist
gamboling its way to
proffer some mad-mommy shrieks -
slimy and squiggly and
oh, so wondrous!
hunter, home from the hill
Ahab and his white sea demon
perfectly prideful,
invested surety of a silly smile
warmed by the sooty
afternoon …

sun.







Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, June 9, 2024

Simply Beyond Help

Zounds!
longing for a 
merciful descent into 
the terminal ground 
where smoky eyes
semi-watch
streams of
semi-(dis)information
exhaled from
smoking brains
on a mission
to search &
deconstruct

ticking clocks
taunt
timely bombs
lost in 
purple blobs
of
orange haze
awaiting
purging deluges
sprinkled with
white bolts of
blinding hell

the raving
raven's
feathers flicker 
while 
flippant tentacles
grope skyward
for
divine decisions
tickling 
a sickly brain
  that
  bemoans
  its feckless fate

we shall overwhelm
a sizzling planet
striving for
  brief moments of holiness
in a pit of
squirming soothsayers
  de-coupling
  from
  determinism
becoming
tomorrow’s 
sorrow

Mercy me!
a pseudo-prayer
crawls out of
a mournful mouth
(“help me Help MeHelpMe!!”)
  muttering
  monotonic mantras
  replete with
  rollicking ruminations
  reverberating from
  titanic implosions
  in the dark
  deep sea of
  terrible time

In conclusion...

simply

beyond

Help

want to taste a meely worm

Larva of meal worms are tasty Corn Cob Cobble said.
A meely worm collector who is always well-fed.
I love them he told me, want to give one a try?
They were squirming and ugly, I gave them the eye.

I had one before, I lied through my mouth and my nose.
These worms gave me the creeps from my head down to my toes.
Suit yourself Corn Cob Cobbie said, popping two in his mouth.
I watch his esophagus twitch and wiggle as they both headed south.

A COLD WINTERs STEAMY

The staticky-stars climax under intense blanket of Winter glow.
Your spouse can’t see your spirited green eyes that burn slow.

The friction of campfire sticks, the satiny slipperiness of moon.
Flames of blue, orange and red won’t be overcome too soon.

Pert rose petals, that once were goosebumpy and ice cold,
scintillate like fireworks until the grand finale’s loosed, uncontrolled.

Warm breath in a cold Winter’s steamy and a restless beast.
Lips lavish over late night feast, matches singe, sate increased.

Squirming under the leisurely complement of coals, coalescing,
Coolness of a blue lake vaingloriously countering, distressing.

A long midnight’s thrashing, sans pillory; the high beams foray.
Pillow talk, a sensuous squeeze, a high-diving elixir bouquet.

Ah those stars brilliantly glowing on a long Winter’s night!
Those limbs blush, rose petals crush, with unfettered light.

Bart Simpson groupie

.
      She watched, with beam hern showed hot spark  
             Sum say, she jumped up shouting "Bart"
                     Sun Time's said with jest
                 "Squirming, her blouse crests.
        Stoned she, slipped out nips rough az bark"












*one would have to understand
  'Limericks' to roll with this write
  necessary punctuations i must admit
  to ease the humor in... Lines 1,2, and 5
  must ryhme, 3,4 likewise 
  ab aab aab
  ab aab 
  if one iz curious, please look up "Limericks"

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