"toehold" poems
For Andrew and his incredible courage.
Incredible the courage found to face the wrath of cancer,
Face the force, insidious, which eats the inside, out.
Face the trial erosion of eradication’s willpower,
Face the wall of silence in the primal need to shout.
Incredible the courage found to struggle on regardless
Keeping up appearance when exhaustion shouts...Let Go!
Hiding pain’s contortion in a parody of camouflage,
Cloaking blood, red suffering which really, now, must show.
Incredible the courage worn in lifting head from pillow
In struggling ***** again to meet a rising sun,
Smiling in the face of a diminishing tomorrow
Knowing that the enemy with-in's darkest game's begun.
Incredible the courage shown to meet the gaze of friendship
Knowing well the condemnation locked within that look,
Irrespective of the depth of friendship’s comprehension
They all don’t understand the pain to life’s unfinished book.
Incredible the courage there in fighting for tomorrow
Marshaling the forces to drive this Devil out,
Clawing back a toehold in the face of grey oblivion
Winning back small victory with brave and primal shout!
Marshalg
Pukehana
10 January 2014
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
they've now got a toehold in the place, they're well established
they've now got a toehold in the place, they're well established
nowt will move them, these parts suit them
nowt will move them, these parts suit them
these parts suit them, they're well established
they've now got a toehold in the place, nowt will move them
the board is crammed with their posts, over a hundred counted to-day
the board is crammed with their posts, over a hundred counted to-day
no doubt they're insistent, they'll not be nudged
no doubt they're insistent, they'll not be nudged
over a hundred counted to-day, no doubt they're insistent
they'll not be nudged, the board is crammed with their posts
some aren't impressed with their carry on, what bugbears they've become
some aren't impressed with their carry on, what bugbears they've become
they need to be escorted from here, HP management isn't listening
they need to be escorted from here, HP management isn't listening
what bugbears they've become, they need to be escorted from here
some aren't impressed with their carry on, HP management isn't listening
the board is crammed with their posts, they're well established
they need to be escorted from here, what bugbears they've become
some aren't impressed with their carry on, no doubt they're insistent
they'll not be nudged, they've got a toehold in the place
over a hundred counted to-day, these parts suit them
nowt will move them, HP management isn't listening
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC
wading through
the shallows
a dip
in this sea
does not
at first
look
particularly appealing
beneath
the surface is
a microcosmic tempest
of shingle
and sand
dashing
upon toes
upon ankles
upon shins
a tickle
of seaweed
leaves paranoia
burning
where sense
and logic
should reside
suddenly
i'm wondering
where sea snakes
are usually found
tiptoeing
against each swell
to keep shoulders
above water
somebody calls out
jellyfish
and laughs
clearly
they are not
surrounded
by these
alien forms
drifting
ever closer
leaving me
no option but
to struggle
to remain
statuesque
as they pass
too close
for comfort
when the depth
forces me
to give up
my toehold
of sand
or shell
to tread water
and embrace
the solitude
finally
i will see
how truly clear
the waters
can be
Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 6:51 AM UTC
Pinprick morning eyes
See
Through blurry
Films;
A rough sleeper/panhandling hopeful, wide awake, wishing a good morning — in my pocket, a toehold on Everest's side;
A second (a girl), she's taught her dog to hold The Big Issue in between its yellow-black teeth;
A scattering of people staring, smiling (at the pet)—"look, look"—"isn't it cute"—"bless"—;
A flat expression, dead eyes (the girl's), she's ********* a selection of cuts on her arm, invisible;
A tragic scene, in the shadow of London's limestone Everests.
But the toehold leaves
Selfishly
In my rushing, full
Pocket.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 11:41 AM UTC
Four bottles and counting.
It's still not enough to dull my senses
Or tranquilize my still-racing mind.
Not enough to dull my ears
To your voice whispering
In between clumsy lines
Blaring from the radio,
Not enough to blind me
To your face etched
in the writhing smoke of every exhale.
I've finished a whole pack already
Just to see your smile again and again.
*When they told me that smoking would **** me,
They had no idea how true that was.
But they never told me it was the face in the smoke
That would be my undoing.*
Six shots and a beer chaser --
Enough to make me dead to space and time,
But not quite dead to the world of dreaming,
Where your lips await me,
Where everything was still perfect,
And my happy ending was within reach.
My mind drags me down
To this infernal paradise
Time and again,
This quagmire of delightful lies,
Despite my feeble protests
About moving on and recovering.
Waylaid by my own consciousness,
What can I do but capitulate?
Thrashing about in this thicket
Of denial and disappointment,
All I can hope for
Is a toehold
With which to stand
Up against this onslaught,
Just to preserve my shaky hold
On sanity and normalcy.
To, at the very least,
See the pinprick of light
At the mouth of the abyss.
I've withdrawn from the sun
Busied myself with the amusing distractions
This world has to offer,
Buried myself
In work
Video games
Thai boxing,
But still pursue you in the dreaming,
Unless I down another bucket of beer
And guarantee a blackout for the night
And a screaming hangover in the morning.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 3:42 AM UTC
Love is a rock face,
Climbers oft find a toehold--
Until sets the sheer.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 11:38 AM UTC
*Rock climbing comes easy to
Anyone who has tried to scale
The face of the H. Building one
Meter at a time.
At dusk, and the electricity is
Out, rain falls lightly behind
You, the single pane of glass
Not quite in reach.
An illusory trance protects one
Hand at a time as it shakes its
Way upward, followed with luck
By one foot.
Wishes aren’t horses or fishes,
And even prayer cannot create
Steel steps or a decent length of
Climbing cord.
Gazing upwards or down is a
Dizzying event, twin spires or
The water towers on a collection
Of rooftops below.
The task was to gain entrance
To the building from which he
Had been banished, although
Dangerous it was.
To grasp and grab and place
And displace, to pull up and
Put down, to gain a quarter
Meter in the process.
Barely a stone’s throw from
His right hand was the edge
Of a windowsill, slippery but
Amenable to a lunge.
Losing a toehold would be
A disaster, so the skid free
Soles on his shoes would ensure
Victory.
A windless, now dry façade
Provided just the surface for
His hand to seize the sill.
Itself a jagged prize.
Here is a case, he thought,
Of mind over mortar, of the
Proof positive that man can
Do without scaffolding.
Even the banished can climb
To heights armed with secret
Weapons and ready to meet
A ☺ at the summit.*
© Lewis Bosworth, 12/2016
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
Carla in strength
Stood at his side
Words of love
Held his hand
Awaiting a rescue
A withdrawl advised
Sean hung in
The doctors did all
Their fingers a forlorn grip
Alone asleep Carla sensed his pulling aura
He teetered with a toehold outside her windowsill
Carla ventured back
Sean no eyes for this world
A last breath, a lingering feeling of remorse
He stayed to say goodbye
Life on earth now spent
Like a double helix now parted
Carla’s clutches the book of memories
Bound by precious silk reddened threads
Awaiting a day to again exchange vows
A welcoming kiss to light a path united
A love that will survive
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 4:34 PM UTC