Wrestled Poems

Jack N' Jim

She's got nerve,
Calling him a boozer
Sittin' next to him
She feels like such a loser
When He's been drinkin'
She'll give that boy a wack
He likes his Jim
But he don't know jack

I heard they got married
Bout a year ago
Figured to elope
I think the story goes
She thought, "What a Man"
As they wrestled in the sack
Yes The boy likes his Jim
But he don't know Jack

Chorus
Now if you're gonna drink
And mess around with girls
Don't pick a Bossy one
or she'll upset your world
And if you plan to keep on drinkin'
And remember watch your back
Cause you Can trust your Jim
But you don't know Jack

Instrumental

The Honeymoon's now over
And she hates it when he drinks
But he is kinda slow
He don't care what she thinks
But when he reaches for a bottle
She's ready to attack
'Cause he likes his Jim
But he don't know Jack


Chorus
Now if you're gonna drink
And mess around with girls
Don't pick a Bossy one
or she'll upset your world
And if you plan to keep on drinkin'
And remember watch your back
Cause you Can trust your Jim
But you don't know Jack

MARTI THE MOUSE

MARTI THE MOUSE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marti, a mouse of discerning taste,
strung his hammock.
not of woven reeds,
nor silken thread pilfered
from a sleeping giant's beard,
but dandelion floss,
a sun-bleached tapestry
between two golden towers.

He wrestled the fluff,
a Herculean feat for one so small,
tied knots with nimble paws,
cursing only slightly
when a rogue seed tickled his nose.

Now, he swung,
a furry pendulum
in a field of green,
eyes half-closed,
whiskers twitching
at the buzzing of a bee.

How Long Will I Wait Before I Come Back To the Light

How long can I wait in the blaze of the sun,
Before shadows drag me down from the height?
The stars are a choir, but they do not speak,
And the sea keeps knocking with a blind white fist.

I am held by the flame, yet I ache for the dark,
Where my bones know the cool and the silence is loud.
I have wrestled with angels whose tongues were of fire,
I have drunk from the well where the dusk must still rise.

Do not ask me the hour, for time has no hand,
It unravels like smoke through the teeth of the night.
My voice is a bell, but the clapper is gone,
Still it tolls in the marrow of my mind and my bones.

How long shall I wait with my back to the sun?
Till the earth calls me down with its patient green mouth,
And the worms write my name in their winding script—
Then perhaps I’ll return from the light to the dark,
Or perhaps I will burn into nothing at all.

If

Sit with me
If you dare to partake
Delicacies suited for a king
Uncomposed melodies
that compel the heart to sing
Rays of the sun
wrestled from the sky
Secrets of wise men
upon whom I dared to spy
The moist anticipation
purchased from dreamers
with bated breath
Renewed energy reclaimed
after a moment of rest
The sweetness of honey
gifted by the bees
The gentle power of the forest
as trees chasing a summer breeze
If you dare to partake
Then sit with me

Life Interrupted

I had a map, a steady pace,
A dream unfolding, full of grace.
The morning sun, the clear blue sky
Then came the silence, no goodbye.

One call, one truth, a single tear,
The life I knew slipped out of gear.
Plans unraveled, time stood still,
I faced the mountain, lost my will.

The laughter faded into mist,
Moments I barely knew I missed.
I held my breath through sleepless nights,
Wrestled shadows, dodged the light.

But in the stillness, something grew,
A softer strength, a clearer view.
Not all is gone when storms arise,
Some truths are only born from cries.

So here I stand, not where I planned,
But wiser now, with gentler hands.
Life interrupted, yes, it's true.
But I’m still here, becoming new.

Innantia Magcanya

Written With Desire

Mothered inspiration birthed from the seed of my soul
send my mind in to a frenzy with racing thoughts hard to gather and control
Words roll off my tongue with provocative pronunciation
climaxed by the inflection of each insertion of punctuation 
ejaculated thoughts wrestled into pleasure provoking position are gone over back and forth and back and forth until the work is at a its greatest peak and ready for submission 
New sensations flourish as visual aspects of the write begin to grow
the girth and length of your creation are now taking shape and beginning to show 
fingers gripping pens 
Pens gliding over paper
Paper once plain white showing the stain from its ink filled raper 
A master piece of your own perfection
each pen stoke bringing it closer to desire
pace is quickening now finished with sparks of blazing fire 
Just another completed writting but written with such a hunger
It was meant to be innocent but may not be subtable for the younger

Mirrors, Unhung

Within prismed images I was captured
along with twilight as it tinted the sky.
We were ensnared during a power struggle 
at the hour when sunlight wrestled the moon.
Neither wanted to vacate the celestial throne.

But I was the one fighting hardest to survive
when beveled tongues along mirrored edges
roared at me in the wilderness of life's jungle.
Voices were raised that sounded vaguely familiar.
The bitterness echoed and surrounded me.
I was blinded by distorted light from all directions.

Hunted like prey in the wilds, 
staying alive proved to be a fractious task.
But fracturing seemed to be my only way out.
I broke down the walls of the reflective maze
and walked over dagger blades of broken shards.
Mirrors that are not hung never pose a threat.

Before you leave the world tonight

Before you leave the world tonight,  
I want to tell you a story, a story about a girl who wanted to end her life. She tried to leave the world one night, but stopped when she saw this beam of light. She wrestled with her mind and remembered the life she was leaving behind. It wasn’t all daffodils and sunny skies; it was more dull and gray. But for there to be gray, there had to be light. For there to be darkness, there has to be light.  

She thought for a moment: what if that little life wasn’t so dark and gray? See, on Wednesday, it was all sunny skies, but then came the clouds, so dark and gray. But then came the wind, who blew the clouds away, and the sun, well, it came back brighter the next day.  

Maybe life is like the sun. Sometimes the dull and gray covers our view, but if she turns back now, maybe the sun will be out, the sky will be light, and just maybe, if she turns back now, she will find the light.

Tempest

He threw at her the black of night
And then the fire of day
Roared as of a hurricane
With avalanching speed

She crackled as a lightning bolt
Within a thunderstorm
And then unleashed – in torrents
The cyclones of her wrath –

With violence they wrestled long
And raged the heaving seas
Hurled the stone of Sisyphus
At Scylla and Charybdis

And in the tempest, tooth and blood
Together bested love –

Baby Beau

Our baby is ten months old
Today I heard a loud clinking sound in his mouth
Chased him around the room
Wrestled it out of there
It was a pair of eyeglasses
One lens was gone

I hope they are my readers from the dollar store
I have nineteen pairs of them lying around the house.
If they were my husband’s bifocals, I had better stay mum
Baby dug up the asphalt driveway last month
An English cream retriever, who cannot leave anything alone.

Mama's Songs

She sings from the river of her soul,  
She sings from the depths of her heart.  
She has seen the strange,  
She has walked the path of the night.  

Oh, those songs summon the light, 
They open the door to a fresh world,
They convey rain to shrivelled meadows,  
They disperse gloomy shadows.  

My mama has sojourned on turbulent seas, 
Hope has been her bridge of belonging, 
My mama has wrestled the unseen,
Courage has been her sword of conquest.  

Oh, mama, don’t ease into the night just yet,
Still, sing those songs of redemption,  
You have taught me to embrace nature, 
Don’t leave my hand yet.


December 29, 2024.

Descent and ascent

Having wandered through
the cracks and crevices 
ambled through the depths
scared my hands and soul
wrestled with wisdom’s lies

I surrendered

Slowly examined the terrain
chose an unmarked trail
climbed, faltered, hung on
cursing my fate
yet never losing sight
of the next hand hold
that glimmer of sunlight
teasing the peak

Reflecting

On the scarred reminders
I sit higher on the mountain
ever envious of its peak
Its promise of safety
Its challenge of success

Not yet

At peace
With the mountain
Or myself

Rose in the court of Thorns

Arrayed as victim,
Loaded against her all dice, 
Rose stood, her face grim.  
Her virtues vain versus vice,
All mute was she like frost ice.

Versus vice of thorns
Her virtues wrestled for voice,
He wins who has horns, 
And poor Rose had little choice,
Cornered, she lost poise. 
____________________ 
Tanka |34.12.2018, revised October 2024|

Guess ah

A People Power Champion
that how they speak when
most people say his name.
Stormester Amir born in
Mobius Grander(Parts Unknow) once
blacklisted and removed
from active competition made a
world renowned return
" Amazing Impossible Possibility"
a promoter named his intent to be
Champion.

Due to his inability to get involved
because of his blacklisting
he marveled around and was thought
to be  "Masked Wrestler" and
"Slugger Caul"
Both found to be not him 
when both men were
challenged to be in the same
arena and were both unmasked
by  "Large" Gussy Steeper.
Arco Danzon and Bolero Clave Dinger
were found to be the Masked grapplers
but due to there ages some spoke of a 
wrestlers conspirasy: most ragsheets reported
the guys being both in there early twenties
but the they beleived was
the Masked WrestlerII had wrestled
Masked for more then ten years prior to
this unmasking. This made the return
of the superstar a specail event.

Five Boys

Five bare-chested boys
Got bored of their toys
Marched down the lake
Without teacher Jake.

Wearing their trousers
They played four hours
Under the sun’s heat
And were tanned a bit.

John climbed up the tree
With the help of Lee
When stung by a bee
He wanted to pee.

Sach and Ted wrestled
While Andy whistled
All stayed at the bank
Safely making pranks.

Five barefooted boys
So hard to decoy
Such valiant and smart
They were all boy scouts.

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