Sulky Poems | Examples

Tea Tales

Come and climb these
Broad bony branches and 
Have tea on this tree 
with me,
Let's talk our hearts out
Into the poems unsung. 

Sleep silently singing in my sizzly eyes,
Sleep might snap with some pumpkin chai,
The sun is seeping in my sulky bones,
Soon the milky moon will mysteriously be alone,
Here, have some squishy scone 
While the sun is setting sleekly,
I reckon we should have tea weekly. 

Sandalwoody sultry summer,
Hyacinth, hibiscus and hummers,
Poppies, primroses and periwinkles,
The night in esoteric eyes twinkle,
Starling singing on a starless night,
No gloom, a moon , no light,
In this sordid slumber silence,
I can hear your eyes speak. 

Let's tell each other 
All our hearts hanker
To say,
Drink tea and recite 
The poems and make
No delay,
I'll have chamomile tea,
I'm not Mrs. Bennet 
But it'll calm my nerves,
You like your tea with herbs,
Spearmint, rosemary and thyme,
And make sure the poem rhymes.

Soul Sucker

She was a vampire; we hung together for a while.
Not a drop of my blood dripped from her lips,
and yet, gradually my soul,

(that wise infant who has taken up
temporary residences in the hovel of my ego),

was sucked like a hapless Mayfly
under her brooding wings.

Little by little
she drained my youthful spirit away
with her 'pity me' hungers,

(a vicious need to bring everyone down
to her own level of misery).

Until
exhausted by her constant tales of woe
I drove a silver lining deep into her heart.

O how she screamed, as a ray of sunny daylight
shattered her sulky sucky-ness.

I left her there
dangling from those manipulative spiderwebs
of her self-loathing,
and fled
with my soulful man-child still intact.

Chapters

  Chapter sequences involving experiences of events
contents of juncture, dwelling places. We'll mention 
Life as Chapters

Venturing to destinations  not farrying one one's 
destiny, Sometimes  one will stumble into an assortment 
of emotions with anxiety of confusion. We'll mention Life as Chapters

Self discipline,  Self love, is eminent,  vital to release one's 
fears. We'll mention Life as Chapters 

Confidence  and Motivation  are friends with a variety of boundaries  marinated with decisions and intuition.  Well 
mention Life as Chapters 

Emotions are comparable to roller-coaster rides peas in a pod lows and highs that fluctuates  moody and sulky oftentimes like see saws. We'll mention Life as Chapters

Big Belly

There is a man who had a big belly
That wobbled just like a bowl of jelly
It rocked the baby to sleep
Allowiing the wife some peace
Peace was a night on the town with Kelly.

His smile soon turned into a sulky pout
When once the wife stayed all of the night out
His vocals were obscene
Making the baby scream
The wife swore that he had no need to shout.

He tried hard but he could not believe her
He thought her a fibber and a loser
So he shed his big tum
Now he’s out having fun
Wishing he’d shed his big belly sooner.

After a Heavy Rainfall

Banks did not burst,
just a dribbling bladder of river
leaked into our back yards.

It drooled over damp roots,
seeped into groundhog holes,
into ditches, where winter debris
had already washed-up.

The water rose in some places,
to at least half an inch,
we made phone calls to each other,
imaginations spilling over,
into memories of past inundations.

Some put on rubber boots,
and armed with brooms,
swept the ripples away.
Biblical deluges were discussed,
will the garden ornaments rust?

We watched sparrows bathing.
No geese or ducks landed.
Nothing sailed off over the fields.

A sulky cat was retrieved,
from a shallow puddle.
The mail was cataclysmically late.

Missions

Some say that we humans,
have a mission here on earth.

Somebody should teach that
to the ears of idiots.

Few discover their mission,
they rationalize
that being a scientist or a poet
must be their mission.

Few understand,
that loving your horse or dog,
is both holy and ordained.
It's expected.

Saying sorry, ten times a day is our mission.
Knowing that nothing matters,
but caring anyway -
that is a mission,

We were not sent here,
to do great things,
great accomplishments are easy.

Making an excellent cup of tea,
mixing a perfect margarita,
hugging a sulky wife.

These are great missions - do them well.

Christmas Past

At the end of the season
bagging trash
worn out from holiness
Lights burning black holes
in bright windows
Longer nights circle narrowing days
sense of unseen toothless dogs
The thin smoke of merriment rising
out of colorless dawns
The children are sulky
their wishes all came true
someday close at hand
they will understand
Still it’s been
(if the amount of trash
counts for anything)
the very best one yet

Memories of a Bygone Spring

In the dusting of the spring time,
Sweet scented thoughts of yesterday,
Make my sulky heart sing and chime,
For memories that won’t fade away.

The buds on trees now softly sway,
Reminding me of love once shared,
Of moments that have slipped away,
Of trices when we truly cared.

But time keeps ticking on and on,
And life moves forward with its stride,
Yet in my heart, the memories dawn,
Of love and laughter by our side.
I long for one more sweet embrace,
One more chance to see you heartface!

The Last Nine Days

It was the Eighth Day, the day after,
small undeveloped brains
began to question.

Pigs were still good to eat
but hard to catch.
The stone axe and the throwing stick
were ideal for nothing much, but sufficed
to make the little men constantly
on the edge of famine.

Some thought that a man in the sky
would protect them,
some blamed that same man.
Questions multiplied
who, what, when?

Mankind fell forward while remaining backward.
Dogs were adopted to keep other dogs out.
Wolves ate the dog bones
leftover after the little men had left
for other parts;
the land hated their footprints
but kept them alive
for the sake of the dogs.

Many questioned the meaning
of this and that -
a sulky silence dripped
out of their eyes and noses.

The time for questions was over,
they began to answer and explain
all things,
while few knew anything at all.

On the Ninth Day
they rested deeply
and have yet to awaken.

Amateur Dramatics

(curtain raises)

costumes torn 
   lighting wrong 
make up melts 
   rehearsals long        

missing props 
   forgotten lines 
nervous looks 
   backstage whines 
       
feuding stars 
   director puce 
sulky looks 
   uneasy truce            
    
scenery falls 
   missing cues 
singers flat 
   poor reviews 
    
backstage romance 
   budget woes 
producer quits
   big egos 
            
opening night
   mistakes are hid 
think no one saw 
   of course they did 
      
 run is done 
    sigh of relief 
 new show now  
    see you next week! 

(curtain falls)

As Darkness Fell

As darkness fell with suddenness,
the sun slid behind the blood moon.
Sounds of nightlife emerged off tune.
You flaunted your unevenness, 
emboldened by dark drunkenness.
Your twisted mind a fierce monsoon
	as darkness fell.

You came with sulky sullenness 
and brought your foul humor jejune.
You played the part of grisly goon
and had lost all your humanness
	as darkness fell.

Christmas Past

At the end of the season
bagging trash
worn out from holiness
Lights burning black holes
in bright windows.
Longer nights circle narrowing days,
sense of unseen toothless dogs.
The thin smoke of merriment rising
out of colorless dawns.
The children are sulky
their wishes all came true,
someday close at hand
they will understand.
Still it’s been
(if the amount of trash
counts for anything),
the very best one yet.

The Lonely Ship

The lonely ship

Crossing the Pacific Ocean and into The Indian Ocean 
is tiresome even for a ship, days of calm bloody water
we have been abandoned.
It is beautiful but, it is like watching Mona Lisa for, say,
two months without getting fed up with the lady.
It lifts the spirit seeing another ship coming up of the horizon 
in front of us; positioned near close enough to see the crew
wave or criticize the rust and colours.
Blue and yellow have they no taste!
It was enlivening we were able to talk and smile again lately
we had fallen into a sulky silence, no good for the moral
and the chief steward told the cook to fry more eggs for
the evening meal thanks to the visit from a ghastly ship that
 was so badly colour- coordinated.

Christmas Past

At the end of the season
bagging trash
worn out from the holiness
missed or avoided.
Lights burning black holes
in bright windows.
Longer nights circle narrowing days,
sense of unseen toothless dogs.
The thin smoke of merriment rising
out of colorless dawns.
The children are sulky
their wishes all came true,
late in the evening
someday close at hand
they will understand.
Still it’s been (if the amount of trash
counts for anything),
the very best one yet.

Whirlpool of Storm

The seamless sky called life spread on cloudless serenity,
in the rhapsody of the zephyr floated my butterfly free. 
On its wings I painted dreams with motif of my identity
as flowers in the valley of love bloomed all seasons for me.
 
The dawning horizon splashed the spectrum of ecstasy,
blossomed the buds of reverie as I was on my course to fly.
Virtual euphoria took me to the realm of fathomless fantasy,
I didn’t see storm clouds gather at the dark edge of the sky.

Splintered in the flickering ambience of tarnished twilight,
in the vortex of turmoil I saw the debris of my adoring sky
spiraling away with my dreams in the storm of sulky night.
Demolished, I was sucked in the twirling whirlpool of its eye. 

The flushing vale turned into tormented wasteland wreckage,
derelict flowers didn’t see the new sun rise in the fallen sky.
Swirling surge of tear drowned the slices of past in storm rage,
rinsed the colored lattice from the broken wings of the butterfly.

June 15, 2020
Contest : Spiral
Sponsor : Kai Michael Neumann

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