Must you wound me?
Deviled dogs of Satan's lot
holding me upon raging seas
mouths garbled with sinful froth.
And must you pull my cloak?
Grubby nailed hands grasping
clambering upon my limbs.
Must you torment me?
Foul horned beasts sneer
with glee to fell a wall
that shall not fall.
When blackest night of yesterdays doth creep,
And grief's cold dagger twists within the breast,
Depression's leaden chains forbid all sleep,
In tombs of past the living heart finds rest.
When anxious fires consume the trembling soul,
And phantom terrors of the days unborn
Like howling tempests rack the mind's control,
In future's void the weary spirit's torn.
Yet sweet the hour when peace at last descends,
And present's golden light doth softly shine;
No ghost of sorrow, no tomorrow rends
The quiet joy that blooms in this divine.
O mortal, break these chains of then and when--
Live thou in Now, and be made whole again.
I reside between
past and present
A sojourner lost
within the now
of then
Two carbon entities
exhale green miasmas
and throttle white throats
in a noose of iron.
The cored captives
diaphanous and rasping
plummet to frightful circles
where sardonic wraiths
gnarl wingèd flesh
in screeching packs
as time loops reverberate
manic and mindless.
Angel dust glides
past the fairy wood
high above ancient boughs
and descends to anoint
my mangled mind
shot through with the lead
of seething maelstrom
born in the tombs
hewn to cordon frozen angst
bellowing for battle
with steel majesties
cocooned in satin alcoves.
The Grinch
has habits that make humans flinch.
One is rubbing himself with onions to create his favorite scent,
knowing but not caring it is public torment.
All that moves does sound for it.
Heart-bent out there - shattered,!
If but morn-broke; by mist-wall, magpie
Soft-checked; and sweet-tempered.
Approximate to which place
For worldly neighbourhood
Wailingly upgushed, had first for me.
Babe. Still lost in its wood.
knowing...
if stars should fade when I'm with you
and darkness reigns in midnight blue
I would croon while we rendezvous
sultry lyrics in your ear...
love songs of a balladeer
whispers fondling your neck and face
caressing each exotic place
'til breathless in my warm embrace
there's teasing with finger tips
and tasting from parted lips
our passion stirs without disguise
your need escapes in moans and sighs
I kiss the lids of your closed eyes
there's beauty found in the dark...
when a kiss ignites a spark
our tongues entwine like flames of fire
for want of more, we both conspire
carnal fervor transcends desire
both yearning to sate this thirst...
ardor nearing a cloudburst
in night's gloaming, we were discreet
fulgent beauty, tryst in retreat
love evidenced with each heartbeat
dazzling hours of sweet torment...
in shadows our time was spent
sweet torment... in shadows
Dark night, flee with your fretful wares;
free me from horrible nightmares.
Cease the torment you foment,
Go with your scary shadows—
my fragile soul gently prays.
please birth a sweet dawn.
Should darkness stain the shields of my defense
where refuge sought holds little glare or shine,
depression takes its toll at great expense
that sadly taints this fragile soul of mine.
The fortress walls grow weak amidst the storm,
should darkness stain the shields of my defense.
The siege consumes me whole might I conform.
Such penalties fall savagely immense.
Surrender could abandon this suspense,
to open wide the gates that welcome woe.
Should darkness stains the shields of my defense,
so common are the scars I've come to know.
Armed only with the strength of battles lost,
survival rears its head as wars commence.
I choose to hold my throne at any cost,
should darkness stain the shields of my defense.
When the seed of fear is planted in minds,
It germinates in brains as a tormentor—
Sometimes sown by a whisper,
a shadow,
a lie repeated twice.
When illusion becomes reality,
And starts by making the heart
skip a beat,
then more of its beats,
then all of its beat.
It creates monsters in our eyes in the dark,
Born from our own imaginations.
And it can make them fly,
swirl,
drawl,
crawl,
and do anything—
Make our hairs stand on end,
Our feet walk on eggshells,
on a slippery slope.
It can crimp us into a shrimp.
When it creeps into our grip,
It brings a nice gift of heebie-jeebies—
That send us on a purposeless,
directionless meander,
Like a chicken with head just severed
and left unrestrained.
Fear teaches our hands to fight,
And reaches our legs to take flight,
But it’s never patient to judge us right,
Even when fear is out of sight.
When the seed of fear is well tendered,
Fear can even make us no longer
fear fear.
When its taproot has eaten deep
into the hypothalamus,
Then the mind is already gnawed by monsters
That, time and again, we created
out of nothing.
A-gony
N-ow
G-ets
E-xciting
L-ife
M-aking
A-nyone's
G-rief
L-ook
U-nknown
Y-elling
A-t
N-othing
©bfa051825
Monocrostic (Birthday of Angel Magluyan)
Inspired by Ronnie James Dio song
"Rainbow in the dark".
............................................
Again, shadows dance tonight—
this time, a grim tear swims down my cheek
as the light became less dim when the
thunder struck—
the cold scolds my hold, and I lost my grip,
reminding me I am free, like the lightning.
But morning light fades into the dark;
the night has totally consumed it.
I become lonely, like a rainbow
left to shiver in a dark sky.
The ghosts of my wife and children whisper
from somewhere above the roof—
their chill cry, as they succumbed to my rage,
reverberates from a broken mirror
I left in the dark tunnel of my conscience.
I am a lie, and I am shy that I know why.
My world is lived without words,
so I only mime to a fake rhyme.
Yet the morning light is lost in the distance,
with only a single star left in the dark sky.
I am like a shadow in a crowd;
my torment is like an echo in an empty room.
A wind blasted tree,
not lightning struck,
but raped
by a heartless wind.
Just the one tree
on a bare-assed hill,
It stands pallid and naked,
its bark striped away
by raging teeth.
I pick up a stick from the ground,
it’s a severed branch
as stiff as an artificial limb,
tap the storm-shorn trunk,
note that the tree
is not hollow yet.
If lightning had split it,
it would have echoed
a deeper, deadlier silence.
Within the wood
is a narrowly constricted throat,
it is still able to speak
through that elongated windpipe.
What did I hear?
I heard a caged wind
being strangled to death,
and death, it had a ghost-white face,
that’s what I heard,
that's what I thought I saw
through wide, and astonished eyes.
The Empty Page
It sat there at my student desk
In wait of task to tend.
Write a poem, the teacher urged,
Your thoughts to paper, penned.
Intently, I perused the sheet,
Pale white and yet unmarked.
It lay there teasing my first move,
“Don’t leave me unremarked.”
This paper, college ruled and prim,
Well-bleached and full of aughts,
Stared blankly back at me to help,
With all my labored thoughts.
I searched the room for any clues
Of how I was to learn.
The clock was running faster now,
No time to wait and yearn.
I sat there squeamish and unnerved,
Too weak to brandish pen.
It was my first time close to death,
Too late for where and when.
Surely, all the class can see
My torment and refrain.
I’d rather have a spelling bee.
I’m circling ‘round the drain.
In looking back these many years,
My eyes were outward bent.
The chalkboard hung erased to black.
My mind, abridged, was spent.
But time has made its mark on me,
Halfway granting one old wish -
To find that poem in myself,
And give to Mr. Nish.
Robert Farrell Waltrip
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.