Fright-type, which brings up, welt-like
The idea of
The mind being itself whipped.
No quick shock's back-shove!
Devil’s metal eyes can sense a vandal,
you’ll need substance to make me melt.
There’s a limit to what I can handle,
my emotions aren’t made of element 79.
Seen as solid and built to shoulder it all,
even a magnetic draw fades with tarnish.
Viewing me as trivial was your downfall,
strength not respected leads to a welt.
Hot heads lose in the heat of a brawl.
It is so hot and dry
feel like I gonna die
Can't go out, live inside
open the door and you fry
Rain drops burn before they hit the ground
long gone green grass it all turn brown
Flowers welt droop and die
stay with AC hibernate inside
It is so hot and dry
been a week of a hundred and five
No rain in the forecast such a long time
this penetrating heat feels like a crime
Heat so bad it burns the shade
hot dry for the summer to stay
Drink ice water but cubes melt
this blasted heat no relief or help
Sweaty sleep with fans on
dreaming of freezing winter long
Could use the cold on a hot day
all I can do is dream the hot away.
With a K or maybe a C is often misspelt
Leprechaun sworn torn from green felt
Billiard baize suit worn with a big belt
Scorn cliches like Romans Cornish pelt
Taffs...the Jocks or Shamrocks smelt
In foreign lands so many have dwelt
Velvet villainy Galician or Brittany C/Kelt
Falter but not at Catholic altar knelt
Riff raffs playing the cards we're dealt
Life & death debacle glued a shoe's welt
Riddles tango with fiddles so heartfelt
Calms disarms always buxom not svelte
Lovers then in each others arms melt
No qualms rascal sparkle charms of a Celt
My hair ripping as her fingernails entwine
pulling my head back
She slaps me harder than she should
Her smile slightly offset
My cheek reddening from the welt of her hand
Shifting herself forcing me deeper within her
The pleasure of her warmth
subdued the pain
My throb in unison with her undulating frame
Cast myself down in reverence
Genuflect to her genitalia
Praising with my grunts and groans
Come she barks her orders
Her hips thrusting with disjointed pressure
Empty now in a guttural groan
but she is not complete
Her knees shifted
Now either side of my face
Choking, gurgling her essence
Her musk a must
Her wetness engulfing
No protection from her want
—it’s the black boil on bursting, boiling ribs—
on my midleft chest, brewing bungled churns,
[tighteningmybreath], again, again, it yearns,
it begs*, “just one (just two) more (well-earned) rub(s)!”
—giving in, it’s just picking at the scabs—
first brief relief( ):the itch at once returns
as soon’s the finger’s left the welt; it burns
and gnaws more hotly—awful pangs, sore jabs!
now, Doctor says I’d best not touch it if
I’d like to heal—“lucky to leave just a scar”—
only, I hate the texture of the crust…
why’s my mind got to be so god,damned,stiff?
though abstinence feels so blunt, so bizarre,
I’d like to heal, I give his word my trust.
Written: January 08, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fields of snow are starting to melt,
Pristine whiteness turns to brown shade,
As snowflakes and grime in chunks dwelt,
Fields of snow are starting to melt,
Uncovered ochre footprints welt;
Under the weight of paw pads spade,
Fields of snow are starting to melt,
Pristine whiteness grows to brown shade.
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt
Focus on new flight, trip for new success
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
Our past storms and snow in life will all melt
Over dream-clouds we might fly in express
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt.
Leave heavy luggage or past loads we’ve dwelt
This year, we might live like prince or princess
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
Bring faith and prayers for temptations’ pelt
Wear God’s love—In our journeys, He will bless
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt.
For strength and quick healing when we get welt
Trust God and His compassion’s stewardess
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
Renew ways life's turbulences were dealt
Everybody, get ready…avoid stress
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt,
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
Thoughts regurgitated though repugnant,
coil of self loathing tightens its noose,
venal thoughts a fragmented whisper,
to sabotage, undermine, disrupt,
one’s frail ego under siege,
wounded whisper n as barbed wire plume,
internal bleeding one must staunch,
if only gumption triumphed,
vacuous a notion one brazenly floats,
inane virus of the mordant gibe,
its origin welded to an anonymity,
so vast in its remit,
defying bold attempt at confrontation,
acid laden cut deep within,
over trivial and flimsy oversight,
imagined stain, partial blind slip,
transgression not worthy of indictment,
court proceeding deep welt juror,
nodding in consensual conspiracy,
wounded mutter, wounded sibilant sigh,
homespun crime against oneself
I hate the feeling
Of thinking I’m here
But I’m not
Of think somebody’s here
When they aren’t
Of having my life blocked in by a snowy window
The crisp February air whistling by
This sound this feeling
Makes me want to die
But she following me
Haunting me
She stalking me
I don’t have energy to try
I don’t have energy to run
I was tripping on this Prozac
Taking away my busted fate
Does every depressed person take these
I sit and think
My first cut wasn’t as deep as the rest
A small little welt across my chest
But it was intoxicating
Like an addict drawn to a pill
I was drawn to harm
The razor blade took a score
The blood was dripping down my shoulder
But I needed more
The looney bin is where i wen t
Full of a ton of scarred up skin
Some who drank
Some who took to many pills
Some who got high for the thrills
We all ed up but in the end
We are ed By the fate of this
Cruel
Deathly world
Oscans, Ligures and the Apuli as known
Ancient Greek, Samnitics, Sicanis and Celt
Indigenous tribes, one people with love grown
Capodanno Fiorentino o'er lands dwelt
Wine appellation of Sangiovese as shown
Wreaths and lanterns over folklores shine not welt
Carrara marbles as buttress of stronghold
With arts and culture, graced with norms of the bold
*HEART OF STONE
would never split open
and melt,
even if we cried
the bloody tears.
Oh thy lonely heart,
listen to these
unheard pleas !
We both were stuck
in between untold cadences,
when there were only shattered pieces
" OF US ".
*HEART OF GOLD
had ever been
dealt with that welt,
even it was spelt
by the svelte proviso.
Oh my lovely heart,
We were driven by this frisson of emotion.
Nearby the ablaze hearth,
we found our peace.
??????????????????
@aamir khan
@patricia maria
28-11-2022
A shrill ocular tree with howling wind sounds.
Sparkles for a brief period of time each day.
However, visitors are enticed from all around.
to obtain tree-wise insights into the display.
They are never privy to any facts whatsoever.
Just spare me the wind sighing as they pass.
Yet, there's a fabulous note of something clever.
In some wise and auld, must shatter as glass.
Once, I went on a trip to check the tree.
and can detect its message in the breeze.
As leaves tickled, I slept in, dreaming on my knee.
I whim of a dear friend who was welt by the keys.
Along the street, we strolled side by side.
She leaned and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Time is precious and runs through my mind.
Love exists all around, so why do you speak?
I am assured that the auld tree was winking at me.
Suddenly, I had the resolution to look around.
Because goodness and truth are the guarantees.
What I saw in my vision woke me to fact sound.
Hell is for children was a brave song, introduced exactly right.
Pat Benatar wrote it and sang it, and gave it some might.
We tried to hide from it, to keep memories out of sight.
But we all know that children’s lives are often a blight.
Children are told to lie, not to tell grandma or teach.
They are bribed and blackmailed, along with some preach.
About how they will hurt the family, and it is all their fault.
We have to protect Mommy’s special friend, lecherous old Walt.
Hell is for children is being lived to this very day.
By innocent children who live next door, and far away.
They have bruises, welt marks and broken bones too.
I think Benatar did us a favor bringing this to light. Don’t you?
A wasp invited me to brunch
Very naïve, I had no hunch
I thought a mimosa quite nice
So I didn’t even think twice
That I might be the wasper’s lunch.
I wore a flimsy silk zinger
No protection from his stinger
What was I thinking, after all,
That bee displayed plenty of gall
I knew enough not to linger.
Just my luck, I got distracted
When wasp, his stinger, impacted
Leaving a welt across my arm
At first, I thought no great alarm
My blood he blithely extracted.
How could I have been so stupid
Without batting of my eyelid
I agreed to brunch with a wasp
Without considering the cost?
Next time I’ll get a second bid!
SIXTH PLACE WINNER
Written June 7, 2022
Entered "Tall Tales 3 Quintilla Fantasy Fiction" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser
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