Wriggled Poems | Examples

Suspended Faults

I felt as small as a winter’s flower
yet as tall as an old oak tree
the seconds dragged on for what seemed like hours
when my world turned in on me

the cloak I wore was of little comfort
just to bridge between present and past
I held onto this and other secrets
no more a peasant but a king at last           

by the time I had finished speaking 
the crowd erupted with applause
then towards me they were reaching 
as the judgment came into force

the mask was meant to protect me
from what no one should have seen
a noose was placed just oh so gently
I thought it was a bit extreme

I sank into the grain that supported
absorbed deep in the fibres below
my legs gave way it was reported 
I wriggled until they let me go.

Sunset Reverie

Smiling down on the speckles of sand,
already the warmth is fading.
Dreaming of brilliant 
stars to appear
as their mother rested on waves.

At the height of graceful magnificence
her soft chrome glow diminishing.
One last show 
she would provide
before she went to bed.

She reached her arms to the skies
and bid her children "good night."
Sinking slowly,
hesitantly, 
into the darkness,

she painted the heavens with hues,
magenta, tangerine, and cyan she had bestowed.
A tinge of violet creeping softly in,
bleeding unnoticeably, one into the other
until a rich ocean blue had been made.

Movements of life 
slowed, blurred,
dreams wriggled deep into minds,
darkness blanketed 
the land with its quilts.

And Earth slumbered once more.

dance with the devil

like a miserable cockroach he wriggled
through wreckage in the sump of his life
bottle in hand and at delirious mouth
in a macabre rehearsal of final strides

what had once been a passionate waltz
had become a legless inebriated pirouette
moribund madness personified 
liquified insanity stumbling to hell
with wings of destruction in overdrive 

it was a sink hole leap towards the abyss
each jump digging deeper and faster
into the rock bottom of body mind and soul

eventually all music and heart stopped
yet he remembered cacophonous decrescendo 
enough to wake up from self-inflicted catatonia

like a phoenix and still tarred and feathered by booze
he decided to rise again whatever the cost

the rest is a miracle and sober blessing and still
he knows that Icarus had pinions of wax
therefore he stayed close to new foundations 
of hard-won truths and the reality of his privilege

The beacons of light

As darkness wriggled into every place,

The land was governed by a veil of silence.

The previous vivid life had left no trace,

All but some crickets singing in defiance.



The mortal realm stood petrified as though

Succumbing to the conquest of the night.

However, in the sky, a tiny glow

Was rather willing to put up a fight.



What a one-sided clash of force

Conducted by the rebel and the tyrant,

And yet a brutal one without remorse

Between the little David and the giant.



Oh, how alike we were, the lonely star

That dwelled in an unfathomed galaxy!

Though separated by a space too far,

We both possessed a common destiny.



We were the beacons of sagacity,

The last remaining citadels of light

Amidst the ocean of opacity

That wrapped the whole world in the depths of night.

After the party I woke up in a tropical Island

the weather was hot, women were hot,
the beer was cool, and I had a few!
the food was so good, I gorged a lot,
slept with a beauty I hardly knew.
the waves roared in and splashed out all night,
coconut palms wriggled belly dance,
the full moon was drunk and flickered light,
the bats hung upside down in seance! 
around me was laughter and giggles,
weather and drinks bring best in romance,
all shapes, all ages, like coloured pickles,
jam of humanity grab their chance!
sunny morn probed my sedated sense,
knocked on my eyelids to open door,
I swore profanities! no offence,
sleep was heaven, and I wanted more!
soon i was nudged on my naked butt,
by an unknown paw, I kicked it off,
in my mind i thought- must be some s*ut
and mumbled something to say f*** off!
Then surprise! a big tongue licked my face,
I opened one eye, saw a black bear,
I got up and ran! feared it might chase,
but the bear looked away, did not care,
But I ran and ran like in a race!
I still recall those days of travels,
and many tales that I can tell,
but thought of that bear churns my bowels,
its black tail is a nightmare from hell!

The Passenger

Born in December on a cold winter’s day
I was baptised a Christian without any say
My life given direction before I could walk
A school then chosen before I could talk

I went through communion and was soon confirmed
In my inner cocoon I wriggled and squirmed
I advanced through school to the final stage
Soon after that I was earning minimum wage

I lost that job and ended up in university
Spending years later enduring much adversity
I married and worked until I was told to retire
My life force consumed like a ravenous vampire

I sit here a widow, my kids flown the nest
Patiently I wait for my eternal rest
I spent my best days in the passenger seat
I now well up in tears as my life’s all but complete

I feel like I’ve never truly had much of a say
Just putting my head down day after day
It took twenty more years until my heart gave in
Finally it’s time to get me out of this skin

The Secret Sex

The child watched them
walking under his window,
beings that should no longer be walking
this earth.

They had long legs, but no heads,
their arms wriggled like thick tentacles.

When he told his parents,
he expected them to rush over,
to see what was going on.

His folks, at that time,
were getting it on.

They were waving their long legs
and thick rubbery arms in another room
just as stealthy and silently as possible,
given the circumstance.

The kid instinctively thought better,
not to call twice.

Delivered To Baby Hawks

Giant hawk snatched me up
Flew me across the cornfield
I wriggled violently, fighting her talons
Expected to fall into a soft hay mow
We passed dozens of them
I was shocked that her talons had such a grip
She held me for twenty or thirty minutes
I tried jiggling, wiggling
She did not release me
I admired her tenacity
She delivered me to her baby hawks
We were high above the horizon
As soon as she left, I crept away
Angry that she had ripped into my shoulder with her beak
To give them a start.

Night Walk

The lampposts drizzled,
they sizzled eclectic yellowness.
Magnetic moonbeams
appeared out of nowhere.

This is where I walked in the lightly lit rain,
those are my shoes walking behind me,
they have left marks in the wetness.

I see myself
as a radiologist might see,
there is a lot of emptiness
between the bones and organs.
I see were the sky seeps into my head,
where the rain thunders
inside a silent dome.

Where I took a walk
the path wriggled like a river soaked snake,
it made me hunch up,
it made me avoid the raindrops
by becoming them.

Wee Winnie Wiggler

It was much too cold underground
so Winnie wriggled her way to the top
where she found it much too hot!
She turned and wiggled back down.

“There’s no place like home!”, she said.
“I like the feel of my cool skin!”
then she winked at me with a grin,
“I think I’ll read a book instead.”

Chubby Green Worm - Nursery Rhyme

A squiggly green worm, 
Feeding on the leaf, 
Wiggly, she does squirm, 
My plant's silent thief, 

She is bloated big, 
Watching me wide-eyed, 
Placed her on a twig, 
And left her outside, 

The chubby worm green, 
Wriggled to a plant, 
Then in silky sheen, 
Sweet sleep does enchant, 

Feeling a bit strange, 
She closes her eye, 
All ready for change, 
Soon, a butterfly. 



13th March 2023

rhymezone.com used for rhyming

Crabbing

A disturbance in the sand
betrayed their hide
and when prodded by a rake,
claws shot up
primed to latch onto
a careless finger or toe.

A big "bluey" had a fearsome
bite and seemed
to prefer to sacrifice a claw
rather than let go.  Their grip
on the rake, though, was their
undoing, hanging on whilst
being lifted up then shaken
loose to fall helpless
into a floating tub.
By morning's end
the tub would be 
a writhing fill of crabs
clawing to free themselves
from a hopeless fate.
It was a pathetic sight.

Hauled ashore, most 
were still alive when Dad
and I got them home.
They wriggled and bubbled 
in the damp bottom 
of the metal tub.
I can remember the salty smell
of what I thought was fear
let out by their silent screams.
Their suffering seemed 
too much to justify a feed. 
Then I would think of Jesus 
and the fish he caught
to expunge my childhood guilt.
Taken out and washed clean 
they would be dropped
into a big iron pot and boiled
until they turned bright red,
the color of demons stoking 
hellfire in a bible picture book.

Broken Time In Pieces

Time passed away in the dark,
the bedside clock fell silent
it was never much of a talker.

Below the curtained window
snow had numbed the night,
ill at ease my body stretched
as if seeking a way out of its mind
a place it inhabits
when there is only one room,
to turn around in.

Did the clock
die on the tic or the toc?
These are the sort of questions
to struggle with when it's too early
to actually struggle.

Switched on the lamp -
the one in my head.
Accumulations of amputated dreams
wriggled back into the shadows.
I shake the clock
some residual moments
slipped limply through cold fingers.

When the light freezes,
when dawn breaks its brittle shell,
snow humps (so far unseen),
will resemble the many recumbent hours,
but of course there's no way
to measure those hours now.

It could be days
before the snow melts
or until eyes unstick themselves
from all this rumpled mess
of being.

Suckers

His love had blind tendrils
that wriggled along -
they clung and clung.

She pressed autumn leaves
and  scraps of his erotica.
She tucked his damp poetry
away for later.

He came with chocolates
wrapped in a low-minded lust,
yet with a heart to trust;
a slippery organ
he claimed to be true.

Though she did not appreciate
that sucking noise he made
when he said:-
I love you.

Desk

The oak desk is a polished surface 
holding-up nothing, reflecting nothing
not even a base of anything.

Once it was an upheaval of random displacements 
of elbows and eyes.
E-mails wriggled like worms in wet ground.
Fragments tap danced on hurried fingertips.

The desk grew paper towers
some spoke, others were silent monoliths.
Coffee splashed over keys that opened up
a world no one ever saw from any window.

A lapdog now chatters between belly and knees,
it wags words, pulls them out of muddy puddles
bedraggled and yelping.

The desk needs a vase, maybe a rose in a tulip glass,
what it actually has 
is a lot of bundled-up ghosts polished into invisibility.

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