entry for Charles Messina's "Fourtle" contest, September 17, 2025
no stair, light blown
climbed chair, broke bone
I woke too soon, a life almost undone
A sudden call came, before the light of day
But all are safe, the reaper had not won
Her life was spared, before the morning sun
She was okay, I heard her softly say
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone
No tragic end, no race was lost or run
Three lives affected, dark clouds rolled away
But all are safe, the reaper had not won
Thank heaven, no journey to the setting sun
I simply whispered a thanks today
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone
A precious chance, a new life has begun
There is a future, no more than delays
But all are safe, the reaper had not won
Startled I still have my daughter; beloved my only one
My fears all faded, at the break of day
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone
But all are safe, the reaper had not won
Someone took the glass away.
At a turning point.
I saw them in the woods.
I got dragged away.
I kept two sets of keys.
I don’t know what a house could be.
Something living in a room.
Or a bed being a bed in a room.
Race around with a shard.
I kept two of them.
Someone always takes the glass away.
I am two of them.
Pain being wrapped up snug.
By my own growing fur.
Things I can’t remember.
Like where that T-shirt went.
Someone stole my keys.
I kept them all.
I am a room surrounded by the concept of what a home is.
It hurt.
The construction workers took the glass away.
The keys got tossed.
But not by me.
I saw them tossed into the bushes.
Every time I remember the accident differently.
They left a few pieces behind.
I wish I knew.
But all I know is shards.
Someone took the glass away.
I found the keychain but not the key.
I used to have two sets of keys.
Then I got dragged away.
the accident
When crossing the street, cars had stopped
to let him cross in respect for his age
He was thinking of death; he hoped it would be
sudden, no sentimental last farewell,
no lies
about seeing you on the other side
Should there be another side, he wouldn't
He liked to meet people he had met in life side
A piece of a Russian satellite that has fallen to the ground
days, hit him with utmost precision
And he watched as the ambulance people
scrapped him off the street, the witnesses
We were in awe, thinking it could have been
We have to be nicer to our nearest
Now he was a soul drifting about, trying to
Find an opening back to life
At the hospital nearby, a woman struggled
to give birth, she was 38 years old, and
Therefore considered elderly for giving birth
The soul saw its chance to become a soul
for the unborn, well aware he would not be
able to know about his former life
Great jubilation, he didn't share as he was
too young to know
She looked pretty at the Zebra crossing,
weaving slowly, her shampooed hair tossing,
cars stopped still, to allow her go across,
who wouldn’t stop to let a beauty pass!
She looked neither to her left nor her right,
body cutting out shape in pants bit tight,
eyes fixed on the messages on her phone,
tripping when side stepping a traffic cone.
She continued her walk on the pavement,
her gaze on phone, no other engagement,
people just getting out of her long strides,
moving out, leaning against walls on sides.
She will, let us pray, march on and reach home,
Walking in a dream with eyes on her phone,
Smart phone habits have made people road blind,
live in a cyber, not engage their mind.
a habit that has cost many their lives,
smart phones kill more now than do guns and knives,
when use road pay attention to surrounds,
watch each step well as your feet touch the ground.
not fashionable if on phone walking,
drivers, road users find it annoying,
drop habit, urge others to do the same,
can save lives, limbs, if this habit we tame!
“Peter Periwinkle had a car accident,”
my brother said,
as if reading it aloud
from the back
of a cereal box.
It took me three full seconds
to realize
he meant our father.
We were on my grandma’s farm
where she had recently died,
leaving chickens scratching
unknowingly in the dust.
Our father was elsewhere—
broken, back bent like a paperclip,
drunk at the wheel
when the other car found him.
“Peter Periwinkle had a car accident.”
He'd meant it to be snide.
A small, spiny cartoon creature—
ridiculous, expendable—
the punchline in a story
where no one comes to help.
I didn’t laugh.
I just pictured a blue hedgehog
lying still at the edge
of some forgotten road.
I hear it now
in a different voice—
quieter, without the sneer.
Peter Periwinkle,
still small and lost,
still limping along the shoulder
of some long-forgotten highway.
I don’t excuse my brother
for laughing when he said it,
but he may have seen something
I was too young to name.
I got crashed; I became crashed;
There must be some reason;
I endured when I was lashed;
Still, all slandered me of treason.
I get flown by the Pilot,
Who, too, succumbed with me;
Tooth and nail he had fought,
But who won was destiny.
It’s a world that’s too strange,
Of course, in the negative way;
Slaughter is beyond my range;
I can’t even think of it any day.
Sometimes, I become free,
Free to have a vivid voice;
None can escape from destiny
That snatches our each rejoice.
None ever thank me for my aid,
When they approach their destination;
In dire disgrace I am laid;
Well, there’s no procrastination.
I lost my all; I lost my life;
I failed to land on London;
Humanity’s too full of strife;
All, all become too undone.
How could I save them all?
I, too, had to die in the crash;
I took off; then I did fall;
Then occurred the brutal lash.
It’s too easy to blame on me, right?
Well, I won’t justify my innocence,
Because I was bereft of any might
That could arouse our prudence.
The tragic end haunts my spirit still;
Is there none, none to mourn on me?
Like a candle, I did try all to fill
Up, but…again … destiny!
Found a poem I wrote by accident
That caused me to have a shocked reaction
It was on 'A hundred days of poetry'
On YouTube, day one, for all folk to see.
Though I was not asked for my permission
It was read so nice all was forgiven
I wrote it back in the days of Covid
When we wore masks to cover our noses.
The poem had the title "Have you Seen"
How for all the medics it must have been
And all of those who work behind the scenes
The helpers, caterers, all in the teams.
I wonder what guided me on that day
To see and hear my poem on display
Have we a guardian angel perhaps
Out there with their feathered wings under wraps.
As
if by
accident
a fellow died
an arrest denied
did he fry on purpose
no one cared no one ran in
all kept silent, as if tongue tied
one body burning, sheeting on fire
a whore lit a smoke he got lost inside
Big Bong exploded :
Happenstance By Accident.
Evolution went.
Inevitable progress
continued naturally.
New forms existing
Then , obvious extinction.
Reformation runs.
Awaiting for next event.
A Big Crunch By Accident.
I spilled some wine on my blind date’s shirt.
He was vulgar and nothing like a gent.
Oh what a crying shame.
Guess I spilled that wine by accident.
A store clerk rolled her eyes when I asked to pay by cash.
So I paid her cent by cent by cent by cent.
Later “found” my credit card and quarters.
The pennies had been just “by accident.”
The landlord took three weeks to fix our heater.
Coincidentally, I was three weeks late with rent.
Somehow I’d forgotten to pay on time.
Yes, it must have been by accident.
A greedy salesman pushed for more than I wanted.
A full hour later, I said, “My money’s all already spent.
You must have found me gullible
by accident?”
I told a tech guy that I’d called for help
that I couldn’t understand his accent.
And my telling that to him, my friends, for sure
was something that was not by accident.
I married him by accident,
after a single day of love,
in the house we were resident,
yet I do not know why and how.
his looks were striking and sublime,
his smile looked radiant, just rich,
wed in a day? a foolish crime?
some called me a whore, some, a bi*ch.
we moved to his niche hill top home,
wealth and beauty was all our own,
in shield of our love we two roam,
time and moments, children are grown.
there waits kiss with embrace at home,
same warmth, radiance I have known,
our love enigma still for some,
old jealousy still makes them moan.
I married him by accident,
after a single day of love,
our love has since stayed radiant,
I know well now, just why and how.
Sometimes, it happens the way I planned it,
and I feel satisfied and proud,
but fate is strange. I don't understand it -
a mystery inside a shroud.
My most joyful moments heaven sent
were only happy accidents.
New films and songs, and rendezvous,
they happen all the time,
bringing unexpected news,
experiences sublime.
It's not a word you must lament -
call it a happy accident.
Chance meetings, lovers, friends,
and creative inspiration,
gloriously transcend
plans of my own creation.
My most treasured moments, heaven sent
were only happy accidents.
That day on Earth was filled with fun,
The weather was mild and clement.
The sun beamed down with gentle grace,
Cool air had just chased off the rain.
That party brimmed with food and beer,
We drank more than we ought to drink.
There wasn’t a single sober soul,
Not even the one meant to drive.
Still, we had homes we had to reach—
He drove, though steeped in alcohol.
Then came the crash, brutal and swift—
Not even one of us survived.
The burial came sudden and prompt,
Tears streamed as grief rent through the air.
"Too young to die!" the mourners wailed,
Bodies laid stiff, devoid of soul.
Four graves gaped wide to swallow whole—
The dug-out clay their final roofs.
Left for the ants to feast upon,
Till silence hushed all mortal wails.
Then angels came before Satan,
Carefully choosing whom to claim:
Some to hellfire, some to heaven—
That's how we stopped living with men.
Contest title: By accident
Contest Judged: June 23rd, 2025 2:48:00 PM
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Placement: First
Did we meet when stars aligned?
Or when fate dragged our paths,
to coincide, to bump together,
sidled up, side by side,
by coincidence, in time and space?
Or did we slide into the same path by accident?
Enchanted to dance by chance,
with happenstance and serendipity,
on a path less traveled?
We met in a deserted park,
in a deserted ghost town,
on a path way off the beaten track
Both coming to see how rising salinity
in the district's groundwater,
through excessive water use,
had ruined the crops,
ruined the town's livelihood.
Everyone had left.
One of us came here,
to yen its cause,
the other with pen,
to write a report.
In the park was a swing
with a rusty chain and black rubber seat.
The wind made the swing,
swing to and fro, to and fro,
emitting a haunting creak.
Which drew us to share the
pathos of the scene.
Which to us, thus met,
made all the difference.
This path, this town, this park,
this swing, this wind, this creak,
by accident,
made all the difference!
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