Best At Bottom Poems
Quote- Henri Barbusse
""We are all, always, the desire not to die. This desire is as immeasurable and varied as life's complexity, but at bottom this is what it is: To continue to be, to be more and more, to develop and to endure. All the force we have, all our energy and clearness of mind serve to intensify themselves in one way or another. We intensify ourselves with new impressions, new sensations, new ideas. We endeavour to take what we do not have and to add it to ourselves. Humanity is the desire for novelty founded upon the fear of death. That is what it is.""
*****
Dying A Little With Each And Every Breath
Within depths of human life, a radiant flame
Born from a spark, an unfathomable clear beat
Although world teaches that life is but a sad game
One that accepts the victories of those that cheat!
Lies refuted by radiance of divine light
As clear as tides caressing shores from waltzing seas
Mankind, wakes to new dawn but fails to walk aright
For from the love and truth far too often he flees!
Alas! World accelerates the dark within mankind
Seeded from birth, darkness unto each coming death
Lost soul, forbidding light to enter heart and mind
Dying a little with each and every breath!
Lies refuted by radiance of divine light.
Mankind, wakes to new dawn but fails to walk aright!
Robert J. Lindley, 3-30-2021
Sonnet,
( From The Depths, A Truth And A Sight That Time Hath Wrought )
Echoes can hide in places far and wide:
in valleys, wells, near walls, in empty rooms;
in hills and canyons and in ancient tombs.
In Chichen Itza, Mexico, there stands
a Mayan pyramid, now known and named
'New Wonder of the World'. One mystery:
this temple, built for snake god, Kukulkan-
their eminent and feathered deity,
echoes a sound, much like a chirping bird-
a bird that represents the Mayan soul;
their spirits spoke in echoes, they believed.
The visitors can stand at bottom, clap
their hands and hear the echo of a chirp.
Sound waves create distorted callings of
their native Quetzal bird as claps reflect
upon the lengthy set of stairs above.
No puzzle that this spirit chirping from
the Pyramid of Kukulkan would speak
in echo-voice of their most sacred bird.
Unknown if Mayans engineered this feat-
Unknown if spirits of their bird speak out-
Unknown if this is nature's sound-wave play.
In Chichen Itza, Mexico is found-
a Mayan pyramid, enigma-bound.
December 11, 2015
~3rd Place~
Contest: Urban Legend
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 04/30/2017
~3rd Place~
Contest: Screwed VII
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Judged: 03/21/2016
~Honorable Mention~
Contest: A Tomb of Ancient Bloom
Sponsor: Justin Bordner
Judged: 03/13/2016
Written in Blank Verse - Iambic Pentameter
10 syllables, 5 feet per line.
At bottom of a glass of wine, finds truth
If he has a second, becomes uncouth,
If he has a third, he spits as he talks
Finally by 4th he wobbles as walks,
By the fifth can hardly stand, it’s his call
Just a drop left, let me finish it all,
The whore that is with him is just as bad,
Why do this, are they both insane, quite mad,
He has hit rock bottom, where to from now,
He feels himself slipping, and wipes his brow.
Submitting: To contest " Rhyming Couplets Poetry Contest"
Sponsor : Janice Canerdy
Date: 10/04/2021
Hi you guys we're Smokey and Jinky
two cats we are Scottish born
one of us is grey, the other jet black
bright and bushy tailed in the morn
Now we lived in the lovely countryside
so free, staying out there on a farm
occupiers were farmworker and his wife
had only son Gordon their only arm
He was a good boy really liked us
no no!, was totally loving S and J
we lay at night at bottom of his bed
so sweet and comfy till the new day
We would sit on the window ledge
Gordon always looked for us there
letting us in out of the cold
so often to be warm inside care
We're now up in our heavenly land
where we often think of days gone by
our buddy Gordon took us in his heart
united we all were boycats! so don't cry!
(Smokey(grey) and Jinky(black) were two cats we had at home on our cottage by a farm, being my two real friends.)
Tiranga (Tricolour)
First unfurled, was the Indian tricolor;
on Everest, the world's highest peak.
All the three colours are deliberated
to give some message and speak.
Dark saffron, white and Indian green,
the three colours of Indian national flag;
all in horizontal rectangular bars,
top to bottom, respectively placed.
Green band at bottom tells Indians,
grow with greenery and agriculture;
White band in middle of it, gives us
message of peace, truth and culture.
Saffron says, be brave and courageous,
don't hesitate to sacrifice if nation needs;
Wheel of twenty four spokes at centre tells,
on the path of progress always proceed.
Made of hand spun Indian cloth, Khadi,
at one hand symbolises pride of nation;
Design and colour on the other, say symbolically
what ought to do the great Indians.
On every Independence and republic days
Tiranga is unfurled widely in the country.
That reminds the people; be nice, graceful,
peaceful, prosper and keep in mind your duty.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
Shot out like a cannon ball
As mother lay there in her bed
Twisted and contorted
Push down hard the nurse had said
Audience at bottom end
Were quick to save the head
What a pair of lungs cried out
Went from purple blue to red
Cleaned up cord cut and swaddled
Poor child's hungry wants be fed
Mum and dad proud as can be
Holding babe that they have bred
6/21/2015
He had no garments old or new
that didn’t have a hole burnt through
from sparks when he lit up his pipe
and nearly set himself alight.
Smoke rituals in his old car
began when we set off not far
to visit Truro’s small town charms
on Wednesdays when from all the farms
the ruddy faces and flat caps
descended on the town perhaps
to share a pint or tea with wives
as antidote to lonely lives.
He’d park the car in Lemon Street
at bottom where we’d have a treat
of cake and coffee laced with chat
about a future he hoped that
might see us settled close at hand
with the grandchildren he had planned,
yet though he knew I would away
to Cumbrian hills upon the day
I qualified children to teach
he put the means within my reach
of self belief and energy
to be the man that i would be.
Yet these foundations that he laid
had in them no contentment made
for him, who as a family man
was separated by a span
of tarmac miles the countries length
to sap his age diminished strength
on visits to those Northern climes
laden with tokens of his time
spent planning to express his joy
in one small fair haired little boy,
his first grandchild maintained the line
of thread connecting binding time.
So by degrees my first resolve
to as a mountain man evolve
became diluted by the pull
to holiday in Cornwall, full
of strengthened bond to sail and sea
and his love of my family.
In the rectory and its grounds
we tested new life to be found
where two small brother boys would know
and feel the care that he’d bestow,
new life on Cornwall's granite rock
aside the shepherd of our flock
Searching for water.
Lost spring at bottom of hill.
Anticipation.
Look at the top not at bottom,
Show your attitude not gratitude,
Live as per our custom not for system,
Run towards altitude not for substitute,
Live life king size not at zero size,
Be costly not fancy,
Becomes ethical not critical.
This must be the princess, motionless in bed.—
She’s every bit as beautiful as they all said!—
But who could awaken her? She looks quite dead!—
Fools rush in, where angels fear to tread.
This is the chamber where my dreams have led.—
She is the maiden I’ve longed to wed!—
But who can ever know what may lie ahead?—
Fools rush in, where angels fear to tread.
A story of a princess once was told,
Whose magical gifts were manifold,
Doomed to sleep in enchantment— a hundred years old.—
What a strange and wondrous sight to behold!
In my wildest fancies I’ve visited
This vision of loveliness before me spread!—
I’m caught in a bind of attraction and dread;—
But who could resist those lips rosy red?!
Fools rush in, where angels fear to tread!
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Excerpt from my Work in Progress – Frame story – “Sleeping Beauty” – Song: from “Awakenings” – from “Convergence” – “Brought Round”Song: from “Awakenings” – (The prince, as he stands over sleeping Rosamond, “Sleeping Beauty”, sings :)
[ harleywhite.awardspace.com ] Click on “Poems etc.”… Table of Contents to my Work in Progress at bottom of page...
BOAT RIDE BY GOAT
A goat wore white satin coat,
not calling due to sore- throat.
It hired wooden boat to float.
Depth of stream was hundred fathoms.
Water entered through hole at bottom.
Boat sank slowly what to do!
Goat swam to bank as I knew.
So! I must stop my rhyme too.
04/21/21
Third Place
'Nursery Rhyme 5 ' Contest by Eve Roper
blue water on ledge
dribbling down vertical side…
mist forms at bottom
Russell Sivey
Contest: any haiku will do
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
7/17/2013
I have wooed,wined, and dined you
Till Broadway carries sweet scent of
Your perfume, light and airy
As Hudson River views.
I have seen you gracing love renewed
No more lonely hearts
In cool of summer's eve
Time will stand still like the Hudson at twilight.
Say you'll come away with me
To nostalgic breeze
Come with me to Belize's sun-lit grounds
By the Caribbean;
Bottom line,
I'll propose on my knees
At bottom of the Carib Sea,
Heaven already knows.
*
Some Solemn Sailor
Some solemn sailor was born and bred,
And no one on him did he want to tread;
He had fighting spirit both day and night,
On open wide ocean such a pretty sight.
Many things about ocean became to fear;
Took away my father who I loved so dear;
Had left my whole life in a complete wreck,
Caused when he did fall from a carrier deck.
Wasn't until morning when orders were read;
My dad was found missing and assumed dead;
He had been there in ocean, for many days;
When found they offered all of their praise.
From flat ship surface soul they soon did send;
Now both remains and body in ocean do blend;
My wonderful father who I have loved the most,
Is down at bottom of deep ocean now a ghost.
Father had been buried two hundred feet deep;
There forever constantly will continue to sleep,
In ocean where God keeps all women and men;
Hearts and souls return back to heaven again.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Online:Profile
(LIE): "Hi! I am a single man, Bachelor clean shaven not even a mustache"
Truth: I'm a cheat, dirty soiled minimal waged job go-tee liken a cat or muskrat
(LIE): Born in Saint Louis Missouri Own my Marketing Company
Truth: Birth in Caviler, Mississippi 2 generation catfish fisherman, got 2 girlfriends one I call my wife;
Have a total of 6 children (one's belongs to the mid wife);
(LIE): Live in a Town home paid for has 4 Bedrooms, Library, Den 5 baths;
Truth: I live in the what we call the bottoms in a shack;
(LIE): 28 Years old
Truth: 57 man that's bold your youngest girlfriend 20
(LIE): Picture posted Clean shaven, Good looking chiseled chin handsome neat trimmed hair
Truth: Such a old intended man with a mustache liken a 1920 criminal whisker like barbels around the mouth only got 3 teeth at bottom of his mouth
Looking like some crazy big-eyed Catfish a freshwater or marine fish with,
typically bottom-dwelling.
In reality I am not the picture posted, I'm not that good looking really
The cat fishing getting better and better fishing the Mississippi River,
far below its normal level
(LIE):Let's meet at a private(public) placement go on a date
Signed: Austen Daniels
Truth: My name is Alan Dunes Jr.
…...........“And I ain't got nothing but trouble for you we're gonna hook up on
Jerry Springer”
GIRLFRIEND,Ya just been...........
CATFISHED
05/12/18
Catfish - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Catie Lindsey