in the mouth of desire, inverted spires
lean toward the grots of Hell.
tongues forked, skewered with sapphires
in the mouth of desire, inverted spires.
Adam's apple burning cores, as moths for martyrdom's fires.
on the path to perdition: many had attended well.
in the mouth of desire, manipulation stirs.
the crone fanning her cauldron
a hot vat of ruin, Wiccan shrieks and whirs.
in the mouth of desire, manipulation stirs -
a warlock's cherished heart of burrs,
tears of crocodiles, his every gentleness abandoned.
in the mouth of desire, sirens sweet, curses
lure purple wearers and weavers, beasts with saints,
low_down to the broad gates, gilt black, swinging purses.
in the mouth of desire, sirens' sweet curses
but wisdom's rare jewels, bereft in their verses.
for want of wisdom, man's sovereign will faints.
Categories:
whirs, betrayal, bible, celebrity, corruption,
Form: Rhyme
Tympani, beat tremendous!
Like thunder roll above!
Dark matter a-tenebrous;
Knowest thou of love?
Ah, young master. In good time!
Riddles, rivers, rhyme!
Griddle, fiddle, sugar, slime.
Covert cold cut chime.
All right, sir, but in earnest;
Full, brass bull, trull, wool?
Summertime, hot clime, addressed!
Roundabout red rule!
Well, it's you two! Black and Blue!
So, what else is new?
Eggs a-light, serpents a-few?
Kittens blind that mew?
Knights of the nebula pond!
Elders strong and wise...
Mighty warlocks, wave thy wand!
Prize? Between the eyes.
Adepts of tomorrow!
Always? Skies and greys.
Surcease, students, all sorrow.
Living for todays!
Miles are marked for travelers?
Yes, and reason thus:
Reality whirs, then blurs.
Black and Blunderbuss.
Rain, pour poems on prophets.
Nerves heal as they warp.
O floodwaters, try Tophet's.
Sailors, tamp the tarp...
Categories:
whirs, dedication, destiny, devotion, encouraging,
Form: Rhyme
Ah, behold
Prince William in uniform,
chiseled chin held high under ceremonial sunlight,
a speech polished like his medals,
echoing across parade grounds
as cameras hum like obedient bees.
“Duty, honor, courage,”
he proclaims,
as if reading from an antique scroll
dusted off for dramatic effect.
Crowds swoon.
Generals nod.
Newspapers burst into patriotic confetti.
And somewhere, in mahogany offices,
other leaders lean forward—
inspired, invigorated,
tugging at their tailored lapels,
murmuring, “Yes, yes, it’s time I put on a uniform too.”
What a pageant!
Suitors of war now march with princely conviction,
banners of legacy fluttering in the breeze of manufactured glory.
Recruitment numbers spike,
missile budgets blossom,
and drones, oh so dutiful,
take flight with newfound moral purpose.
Peace?
A quaint notion—
better saved for museum plaques and children's books.
The Prince has spoken.
The machinery whirs louder,
oiled by rhetoric,
driven by legacy,
and crowned by applause.
Categories:
whirs, america, pain, parody, peace,
Form: Free verse
aligned with spine
slow heat spreads
radially in our back
third eye twinkles
the navel whirs
jugular notch throbs
orifice in fontanel
expands to admit
grace as it in-pours
magnetised palms
poised to heal
hum with power
soles of feet
tuned in to the beat
ground us to Mother Earth
as both Holy Spirit
and organic form
we become the all
Categories:
whirs, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
As in the void we wingless fly,
stardust sparkles in our third eye,
orifice in fontanel whirs,
causing tremulous heart to sigh.
Divine magnetism within purrs
as flow of soma nectar stirs
polarities within our form,
infusing bliss when heart concurs.
Ascent begins when we conform
to God’s grace, fearless in the storm,
witnessing death of our ego,
paving way for soul to transform.
Categories:
whirs, spiritual,
Form: Rubaiyat
tip of nose vibrates
hum of bliss whirs
compelling focus
to make eye single
in time dissolved silence
magnetic pulsations
dance in the vibrant void
heart picks up by resonation
the rhythm to which it is drawn
which then echoes in toroidal heart
Categories:
whirs, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
In the kitchen, pots clatter and pans clang,
The blender whirs as the kettle hisses and sings,
A spoon clinks in a mug, stirring tea,
While toast pops up with a little ding!
The cat purrs on the counter, eyes half-shut,
The dog’s tail thumps as it begs for crumbs,
The fridge door squeaks as I grab some jam,
And the bread squishes between my thumbs.
Suddenly, the phone buzzes with a ring,
I yelp and drop my toast—what a sight!
Jam-side down, it lands with a sticky splatter,
And the dog licks it up with pure delight.
Breakfast chaos, a daily dance,
With sounds that play a silly tune.
But in this noisy morning trance,
There’s magic in each messy swoon.
#Onomatopoeia# #OnomatopoeiaPoetryContest#
Categories:
whirs, animal, art, cat, crazy,
Form: Rhyme
.
in mine torso's
limbs
'long with mine
robot's
grip
az the tin man
left out
in thuh purty rain
ourn lips each
to their other
found stuck
wantonly
we were wedged
ourn lips
there wuz no patience
for
adorable werdz
just whirs
lots uv
please
and
and sexy
sibilating
'bout the wet
"edvard hear her"
can ya
'twuz lisp
hern
whilst
mine rust
twixt firm
hern
churned
Categories:
whirs, extended metaphor, garden, love,
Form: Romanticism
My love for words creates mental pain-
when they race around in my befogged brain.
I sit here dreaming- pen held in my hand;
mind burning aglow with ideas so grand.
To be very frank, the two oft don't meet,
the paper stays blank- my head whirs in heat.
May go on for hours- these frenzied word games
in seeking a crack to set free the strains;
spinning and whirling for clear words to find-
metaphor, imagery- meter combined.
What comes to mind has been said before-
needed are words to unfold and restore
old themes of nature and love redefined;
God above, ourselves, the woes of mankind-
of life and death- of sad wars and true peace.
These variant themes need a new release!
Burst open, you seed! Expose yourself bare
so I can soon grasp the words to prepare-
and push forth a poem through this foggy light
to offer a gift from my mental plight!
Categories:
whirs, poetry, writing,
Form: Couplet
tingling spine
love aligned
throbbing thus
third eye whirs
Guru’s grace
purging fire
nameless one
rise here now
full of light
26-January-2023
Tricube
Categories:
whirs, spiritual,
Form: Other
of its own accord
hollowed out third eye
whirs with bliss spurred vigour
taking the head ovoid along
as toroidal spiritual heart
beholds the spectacle
space itself yields
to shimmering white light
self-existent, pervading the all
centred everywhere at once
transmuting feeble form
defying delineation
01-January-2023
Categories:
whirs, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
It clicks and it whirs and it chunters,
This wonderful little machine,
As it takes and measures and grinds
Those marvellous little brown beans.
It hisses and it gurgles and it splutters
Then finally begins to pour
And just seconds later
A Kaffee Lang awaits once more,
Which just slips down the throat
So any morning muzziness slips away;
After such a fine coffee
Any man can face any day
Categories:
whirs, appreciation, happy, joy, technology,
Form: Rhyme
Bedsprings crochet bones together.
His back is sutured to gripes
stitched to gummy joints.
In the toilet, avoiding the mirror,
humming softly,
shunning conversation with himself -
the ceiling drips a sump of memories.
The park --- Frances revolves confused.
"I don't understand."
A phrase with self-winding words.
A slight miscalculation,
a turning away at the precise moment
she turned towards him;
an error of timing really.
Frances whirs on "I don't understand."
Later he understood she overdosed.
He imagines this lethal power
over her life to be his.
Time whittles cavities with calcifications.
Softly the spine of a storybook breaks -
where one stitch patches a sorrow
a spur prods and rips.
When he listens to the hollows
between the long vertebrae of his life,
he hears a theory crumbling away
under slowly grinding cogs.
Categories:
whirs, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The gentle whir of the machine
pumps temporary relief into your veins.
It happens more than it did;
even yesterday.
You sigh.
The tight grip of your hand relaxes
I release mine and rub some life
into dead fingers.
You never held my hand before
when it mattered;
it was not what men and boys did;
you used to utter.
I lean over
and breathe gently
on your cold grey face
as I gently kiss your forehead;
another thing that boys don't do.
You whisper something
in your fevered sleep
words I wish I knew.
I murmur gently in your ear:
I love you, dad.
Your eyes open in pain.
The machine whirs again.
Your eyes close;
it's sad to think
that we are all sat waiting
for your last gasp.
'Writing Prompt - Breathe -' Contest Joint 1st place.
Published in the collection "It's Not Easy" by Poetry Choice
Categories:
whirs, bereavement, death, father son,
Form: Free verse
A fervent fairy
In romantic dream
Holds a watering
Can, flitting over
Her daisy sweetheart.
Morning sunlight
Obscure bee whirs,
Round fair-haired face
Tease twinkle toes.
Mice clamor,
Hedgehog rolls
Heather blooms.
Weaving
Spider
Hides.
1/6/2021
Categories:
whirs, fairy, fantasy, love,
Form: Diminished Hexaverse
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