Stubbled Poems | Examples

Hide of Tyke in Hold

Heartthrob in damsel drag
Belief of human bile
Completely instilling cascading dregs of mechanical flesh, bones and spit
64th avenue 
And coiling deft doom
Winged balls of bulging blood and speckled steel
Merry wails and flutters of moths unsealed 
Fitted upon falling kneel
And reckoned release of rotten roadkill-
Rats and babes and brats
Congealed candy and sickeningly sweet brandy
And hailed light of epiphany to choke, swallow and spit
And strangle without a hand nor handle but grit
Of groil and crevices of menaces heralding honed notes
And a lone liver in fathered infirmary 
Black backed in breachers 
Potted a bulge to indulge the fickle maggots of dissociation 
Emulsification and hearty sniff of 
Whitened slice and slithers of snow
Dregs to drag and hone and throw
Up upon bedded saline laden road
Of rows and rows and pounds 
That drag rotten flesh afresh from the hound
Sutured from spine to fluttered wing
The hide
Plucked apart from rat to brat
And collared collier stepped afresh with new hide and throw 
And stubborn stubbled child with a new mind in tow

5//5//2025

Rudolph’s Broken Leg

The sleigh glided through heavy snow
Santa was worried about the blizzard blow
When suddenly Rudolph stubbled, his leg amiss
The reindeer sighed to see their leader down

The North Pole wore a worried frown
Elf doctors worked with healing care
Santa looked on distraught 
While backup plans filled the frosty air

The sleigh, now powered by a magic spell,
Would soar through the sky, still chiming bells
Rudolph cheered as they started their journey 
For Christmas joy would save the night.

On Passion's Tide

A storm blew in when I peered into his dark eyes
Fearing lightning would strike in bolts of midnight fire
Wanting his touch, though it might lead to my demise
Then full lips swept over mine, igniting desire

Thunder roared in my head with each deepening kiss
I heard it drumming in warm breaths against my ear
Fingertips danced lightly over naked skin.    This
symphony sings in my heart each time he draws near

Desperate urges and needs filled my torrid mind
I murmured in soft sighs against his stubbled cheek
whispers of hunger, I'd never before defined
He sated my desires when they reached fever peak

Storms are strong passionate tempests at this man's side
We ride on crashing waves higher than at flood tide

Seasoned

Seasoned homeless men in olive-green and black
camouflage jackets,
whisker-stubbled faces,
fatigued eyes once of youth's brightness.
They not too long ago raised their hand to
swear the oath,
in the shelter kitchen are many bustling
volunteers.
Brewed creamy coffee warms the grateful
men's throats.

The Catholic church across the city street tolls,
it's resounding bells in chilled autumnal air,
a knell of hope.
Honeycomb paper turkey decorations on the
center of long cafeteria tables.
A hurting truth about America, our country,
is our homeless veterans.
They served, they suffer.
A Thanksgiving for the exhausted-
and, often, unthanked. ~

Memory

...that builds its scaffolding within
neuro-rivulets
brain tidy 
or caught in random whims
to form a sense of self

memory, where it resides
                with packed up boxes of old photos
sometimes in mistakes made
                     that rub me the wrong way
                     like the gray torn threads of frozen seams

no microscope needed
recalling
a spring of sprawling promises
in a stubbled field where lovers once cooed

memory tousled like skipping ropes abandoned 
or in your grandmother's hands craddling tea
fitting thoughts of tip-toed dancing
or childhood blips of snatching snowflakes
                                     on tongues and lashes

sometimes the shoes it wears are boots in war song blues
or slippers that breeze through rosebud dreams
                             sleighs down hills
                             and sugar apples at Halloween

beyond the frame of what has ceased
memories like rock yokes about our necks
                   or the morning bread on which to feast

If Seasons Swell

If swallows scissor scarlet skies
and gather summer on their wings;
then seasons shift to autumn tones
as gnats retune the evening's song.

If apples swell with ozzing juice
that slowly drips on wooden floors
then purpled fruit release their stench 
in time that slowly stretches hours. 

If stubbled fields are stacked and stooked
with hay in gilded packs that sway
then harvest yields beneath the moon
reflecting fallen bronzen leaves.

A sharpened odour fills the air
as bonfires smoulder vacant lands

Wrong Date

It was not a Parisian café
though it tried to be.
Our teeth were strong
they flashed
intermittently.
The house wine was red,
the bread was good bread.
The creamy leaf was dressed,
it bloomed and licked the mouth
with a blithe bouquet of ease and tease.
The fish was dunked in a
blue dish of piquant delight.
A butter fat flounder fandangoed
upon our tongues just right.
We were trying, working the words,
leaning into anything
that would further our cause.
Alas signals were misread
gambits misunderstood
subtleties stubbled over ambrosial food.
Tight lipped
we nibbled and sipped.
Time slipped, barely recovering,
the waiter was smooth, his speech
a soupcon of olive upon a slippery smear.
We tried to repair
tried to mend that which was not there.
At the frothy tick of the hour
coffee dark resignations shrugged.
We briefly hugged while hope
crumbled upon a red and white cloth,
hurried promises exchanged,
a cheek peck and wane smiles
pale preludes to nothing at all
and nothing arranged.
It was awhile since
yet
we met again
though we were ever the same,
for nothing went anywhere
and that was it
to be never again.

Trees By Me

Trees By Me

Thy sun shineth
        tis countenance,
Thy tree tis gift,
        sparse tis expanse,
Tree girth aloft,
        neath midst remain,
Flicketh light burst,
        art windows stain,
Thy trunk weigheth down,
        cradled youth,
Internal weaves
        exploit thine root,
Thine tree who hath,
        purged forth hugged vein,
Thereon, ventures
        art tis thy frame,
Thine tree fabled
        wondereth meant,
Twas learneth life begs
        tests twas meant,
Thine tree till naught,
        nor didst we toil,
Providence hadst,
        springeth thine soil,
God giveth life
        length thee savor,
Grace promised seed,
        tree thus favor,
Seasons race,
        due timely fashion,
Thy Divine hadst
        shewn compassion,
Thy poet writes
        praiseth said trees,
Songs shaped said tis
        sweet melodies,
Tis fool soon cools
        thine stubbled toes,
Twas well-rehearsed
        endowed said verse,
Thy quill be rested
        chapter close,
What said of trees
        God truly knows.

2020 February 12

Feeling Whole

Feeling Whole

Here I lay, my head 
upon your chest 
Not long ago we 
gave each our best 

Head rides with 
every fall and rise 
Escapes from my lips 
a few soft sighs 

Feel the steady thumping 
of your heart 
From this place I wish 
to never part 

Reaching up to stroke 
your stubbled cheek 
Handsome face fits 
your fine physique 

I trace your mouth 
with my fingertips 
What joy was brought 
from those lips 

Soft hot lips left 
a burning trail 
Over my body like 
they read braille 

Stubbled cheek my 
skin it would burn 
As your lips made my 
body again yearn 

The secrets your 
lips told my flesh 
Had my passion 
burning fresh 

When they taste my 
moist wet passion 
Made my back arc 
up with its reaction 

Your lips seemed to 
touch my soul 
Leaving my body 
shaking feeling whole

Fall Around the Corner

Silver
glistens on bark,
cloud mountains fill the sky-
long shadows paint the stubbled earth
yellow.

Murmurs and Soft Sighs

A storm blew in when I peered into those dark eyes
Fearing lightning would strike in bolts of midnight fire
Wanting his touch, though it might lead to my demise
Then full lips swept over mine, igniting desire

Thunder roared in my head with each deepening kiss
I heard it drumming in warm breaths against my ear
Fingertips danced lightly over naked skin.    This
serenade sings in my heart each time he draws near

Desperate urges and needs filled my torrid mind
I murmured in soft sighs against his stubbled cheek
whispers of hunger I'd never before defined
He sated desires I'd never thought I should seek

Love was a passionate storm at my husband's side
Where we floated on waves higher than at flood tide

Day of a Double Take

Out on a Sunday grocery shopping,
heading for the dairy department,
out of the corner of my eye I saw,
the back of a very tall leggy blonde,

She must have been 6'2" tall,
with her muscular legs wearing high heels,
her knee length dress was a pretty green,
she turned around and I thought what a scene,

Because it was actually a stubbled guy,
with make up on even on his eyes,
the other shoppers took it all in stride,
like he/she was a regular shopper all the time,

But I couldn't help but curiously stare,
as if a blonde Bruce Jenner/Caitlin was there,
when he/she walked the dress swirled,
in my Walmart upside down shopping world.


2-28-17

My Favourite Place To Rest

I smile at you but you can't see
My back is resting 'gainst your chest
Without this harness I'm so free
Your back's my favourite place to rest

You hold me up in your strong grip
My afro hair's tickling your face
I giggle when you sneeze, and slip
A kiss on your full lips, and trace

A finger along your stubbled jaw
Before I gaze in your brown eyes
Where all I needed I just saw:
A love so deep, without disguise.

***

January 23, 2017

Deeper Than Any Blade

A poem should be a candle
that brings human feelings to light;
moving like a stubbled shadow
across the face of tomorrow.

And its rhythm should be inviting,
soliciting raw emotions
from within the depths of your soul;
where both Angels and Demons dwell.

Its language should be conversant,
conveying the writer's message
in a relatable fashion;
emotional and personal.

And it should be free of the lies
that ignorance perpetuates;
freeing feelings with wizened words
that cut deeper than any blade.

Timed Passage

go out in the field with that 
helmeted Go-Pro and press the button,
not that little clearing beside the building
but the field as wide as it is far, far out

look up and stream the dark washed sky
times elapsed in fusioned milky light
watch it arc across the chilled, stubbled field
the cold sparks beautifully splayed across

turn it over now - a bit further, roll over,
refocus, look down close at the loam laid on
set the time-lapse for lengthening days
and watch your shadow pass below you

see the seed casing crack open and 
seedlings rise to first season of life 
toward the now brightened sky above 
listen to the cells elongate springing

against gravity to push away to up, up 
sit up, or stand and raise the gaze farther 
the slow pan of growth, Jacked up stalk through 
sky and clouds to see what's so big up there

© Goode Guy 2015-03-11

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