Sutured 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

Indomitable Instinct

The exigent mountain 
in the tough terrain 
of upheaved life,
          crumbling, 
needs to be climbed 
as the solemn summit 
alluringly calls.
I follow 
the undefined trail
in surging storm 
of stifling strife,
          relentless. 

I cross with piety 
the divine portals
God installs
in the precincts
of eclipsed destiny, 
          dormant.
In His decree,
designed with certainty
I repose resolute trust, 
faith shows me the path
to the content summit
of solacing rapture
in the dark nights 
of scary squalls,
          delusive. 

The turbulent sea 
of chaotic life
in tempestuous disarray, 
I need to sail 
          serene,
find with forbearance 
the last anchorage, 
get guided 
by His benign beacon 
with dedication just,
          steadfast.

The tormenting alley 
of endless anguish,
          submerged 
in opaque darkness 
          desolate, 
needs to be lit, 
the shreds 
of shattered soul 
salvaged from the abyss, 
are to be sutured
with threads 
of divine essence
esoteric,
embroidering ecstasy
at the frail fringe
of agonized actuality,
shaping the survival instinct,
indomitable.



-

Undergrowth With Two Figures - Van Gogh

In luxuriant terrane of verdant sprouts
opulent golden understory unveiled,
stemmed by swerving jade blades,
entwining the pairs of legs petrified
within the maze of floral profusion.
The black figure of deviant prominence
stands out like a towering protector
in sutured closeness fused with her,
camouflaged to evade the predator.
Bare trees aligned in harmonized motif,
outline the floral boulevard for them
to walk away from the onyx horizon 
to the sunburst meadow ahead.

Live, If I Must - Rough-nfc

My mind is stripped of crippling inhibitions
It rummages, unfettered with mundane thoughts
delving along beveled edges of a distorted mirror
as though it sees inside my sutured heart
In its scarred reflection is a sanguine painting
An original piece of bloody abstract art

In translucent shadows
shades of red interlace, light and dark
revealing with candid strokes
the sad validities of stresses in life
Paint drips in globules from my brush
bleeding onto a canvas of fleshly white
Emotions revealed with intense veracity
as the aureate sun fades, lost at dusk
I turn away from the glow of moonlight

Emotions unmasked, I've taken a stance
that allows me to paint a somatic portrait
Visions discovered while I sat in a trance...
ochre and crimson oils, sorrow runs black
Bloodletting hues whether in a painting
or in poetic lines of a caged poem, I trusted
would always remain closed... but
the rusted door has been flung wide open
Released is this motley conveyance titled, 
"Live, If I Must"

Terrestrial Head Contortion

My hands are sutured 
behind my head. 
I lie like a fallen yield sign 
on the side of the road. 
My path is yellow and humble. 

My hands separate.  Pull. 
And split open the back of my skull. 

Evolution takes place in the gaps 
of solitude being locked in a room, 
away from all influences. 
Natural and spiritual become one law. 
And I yield . . .  

Pried open with my crowbar 
hands, the grey matter separates -- 
creating an entranceway 
for new experiences.

Evil

.Evil

A wormy apple bruised
bread crawling with weevils
Mottled black and blue
Essences of evil
Skull and crossbones warn
 deadly poisonous gas
Tortured cries and moans
Creepy sutured mask
Disguises of light and truth
Hiding grotesque thoughts
Someone follows you
 Security, safety lost
Empathies a myth
I alone am real
Fill your terror with
All that I don't feel
Bodily pain excites
But even better I crave
Destruction of the mind
Making you depraved
A little harmless here
A bit of, only human, there
Deeper darkness steer
Till it's hard to care
I knock a jolly rhythm
To distract you and disarm
You unlock the first one
and Quiet the alarm
Peeking, who is there?
Show all my wicked teeth
Desensitized you stare
And open the door to me.

The boxer brownie bandit 2

I fear I've lost the light
In this storm of chocolate rain
Muddy waters cloud my sight 
Within this foul smelling haze 
But I know I'll make things right
I'll escape this hell someday
And my tights will finally stay white
Off this soiled path I'll find my way

They say the devils in the details 
Well I sure hope he likes corn
They say in the end good prevails
But I've had this demon since I was born
In my wake I leave a trail
There's stains on all I've worn 
My life's going off the rails
And I feel chaos in my core 

Still as I waddle towards the future 
I've only known one truth 
It always goes smoother 
When you let the pain pass through 
So when my gut gets sutured 
I'll fill the hole in my heart too
I only wish I'd done it sooner
Change your pants before they change you

An Ode to Steven

Steven a wonder cursed to be a man,
The world made to his plan,
He works towards valiancy and tranquility,
Steven a victim of crime and pain,
A warrior a man held in high regards killed in disdain,

He lost his life fighting for our future,
His wounds unable to be sutured,
Lost his life to that Mega Dart,
That Nerf war so violent,
The world after his death fell silent,

Steven was a marvel in human form,
Carrying on now in his garb set and torn,
My world still moves yet time feels frozen,
Steven was a friend and a mentor all the same,
Now set to rest with no one who would give him blame.

Sequined Shadow

The indelible image etched 
on memory membrane
time couldn’t tow 
to the obscurity ocean
in its shimmering shore 
on the satin sands 
I engraved entranced
the lattice of my love
the sensuous spectrum 
of sunburst sky scene
shaped the facsimile of fervor. 

Harmonious hearts 
took entwined entity
sutured by sublime strand
weaving the infinity
I couldn't release 
your alluring hands
my exhilaration candle 
fervently flickered
flashed on your face 
lasting luster
in twilight aura
I was flushed 
with the flare 
of craving delight. 

You were gone 
walking weary 
the providence path 
your engraved shadow 
lingered lively
in timeless domain
my longing threshold
perceived permeated 
the emotive endurance 
of your yearning 
the argentine glow 
of the amorous moon
unforgettable adornment  
of the bejeweled night
with sequined stardust  
I embellished 
your shadow in
eternity…

Broken Warriors

Broken soldiers
Splintered dreams
Huddled
The horror of now
Haunted
By the horrors of then
Scarred, sutured,
But as yet
Un-cauterized
Wounds
Forever bleeding
Into their present

Threads of Muted Sound

"Caress the broken heart  
with threads of muted sound,"
When your world falls apart, 
In silence, is peace found, 

Cherish the sutured soul
with a kind touch of love, 
It's how you become whole, 
Praying to God above, 

Cater to shattered dreams
in quiet pondering, 
When on your cheeks, tear gleams, 
Keep thoughts from wandering, 

Colour your vanquished mind
with positivity, 
Let hues of hope remind
to prize tranquility. 


#2

Awakening

Stood at the precipice of enlightenment,
Was she:
a girl who, until now, had been asleep.
Her eyelids, caked shut with dried tears,
Did little to allow her to see,
but there was no need.

Because above the bridge of her nose
and between her brow was an eye beneath.
And for once she understood life so clearly.

Her thoughts were no longer bound within her skull;
Instead they launched, and became an infinite part of the whole
Universe, which responded with secrets of time and space, filling and fulfilling her spirit with purpose and grace.

No longer did she sleep away the life she was gifted,
because her perception of everything had shifted.
Now she saw how everything connected:

The fragments of her consciousness sutured together
And suddenly her world inner and out assimilated into one clear picture,
She no longer felt alone, for her guides rushed to her side, and lead her home.

When Ai Comes For Me

When AI comes for me
    I shall gladly agree
  Here, sucker, please take my class
    They're a regular old pain in the axe

  Have fun understanding how they jawbone
    Instead of teeth, their mouths are filled with stones
  And good luck trying to read their writing
    It's a cross between hen-scratch and cock-fighting

  As for their collective attention span
    It's akin to an ant's in a sizzling-hot frying pan  
  And, of course, the boys' hormones run wild
    Most girls by the second day of class defiled  

  But I know you'll be fine, Mr. AI, Mr. Wave of the Future
    Hope you don't mind your 'expertise' getting sutured

These Mortal Parts

I'm not much attached to this body,
it feels like it's on a short leash
while the brain drags it around
like a reluctant old dog.

Long cantankerous years
have pummeled it into a shape
it never used to own, never saw coming.

I am by no means special
we all acquire these 'special' parts,
that cling to us like limpets and lichen
many are visible only to the mind.

Tree's show their scars on the outside
internal excrescences run deeper.
Wasted landscapes never repopulated
are sutured integral with still verdant fields,
still workable earth
but we know

that vehicles this unwieldy
have no fail-safe switch
                                even if we could find it.

Countdown

Counting down days to hours,
I give glory to God;
For the crossover from the bondage of 2022;
That came with joy,progressed with sorrow
And ended with ugly scars,
Of the wounds that once were sutured;
Along the way,whose ways I didn't understand.


I'm about to get to the bridge,
That links the old to the new year;
And how I pray it breaks down,
Once I am on the other side,
That all that transpired through this one,
May not follow me to the promised land.
Still,I give glory to God;
For a hustler like me,
Wouldn't stand a chance to the new year,
Yet,helpers came along my way,
Friends stood and prayed for me;
Family cared so much for me;
And church held my hands all the way;
All this was by His grace.

I'm counting down,
Much as I do not know my fate;
For I am not God.
I plan to have a better year,
With more prosperity and productivity,
But I'm not the driver of my missions,
I don't have that key,
Expect my Father who sees the unseen,
The one who lifts my soul in prayer tonight;

I'm counting down into the new year,
And I pray that,
God sees me through it;
And in all I say,
May his will be done.

• Short Sutured Poems
• Famous Sutured Poems
• Best Sutured Poems
• Read Sutured Poems
• Long Sutured Poems
• Sutured Quotes