Best Blotting Poems
When leaks my pen of flowing ink
I quickly staunch the flood
by blotting with my fingertip
the pool of chromatic drip
Escapees while my mind took flight
wandering across the sky
writing in script of a damsel's plight
until the globules caught my eye
Often, I've stopped writing to think....
there lies drops of my poem's blood
Swirls and whirls of rhyme and phrase
captured with the stab of a finger
Words trapped inside a maze
where my poetic thoughts must linger
a miniature portrait of my write
a tattoo in black on parchment of white
~the Fear of Never~ A DRINK TO REMEMBER!
And the fire catches every time, my heart needs a sip
I bear no shame pouring, poisoned pabulum whisky down
Lost in a place with hungry whores, ink paying gigolos
This night a respected gentleman put's on his evening gown
He sits in front of a mic playing the same old sad song
Fitted out in drag, his wife has no clue
Holy breeders trying to change my shoes
Lingering from the Cute Chinaman, running his tab sky high
Bluebirds of jealousy, set round the vintage Barstool like fools
Minds overpowered and threaten to the very nub
I am drunk-- in his eye,
He receives a macabre confession of possessiveness
I am drunk-- in her eye,
She has a sick confession of subconsciousness
Broken loose from a negative, regressive state of mind
Sit and enjoy this broken bottle of champagne
Unspoken rage in every empty can left behind
A shot glass drops from my unstable hands longing to hold a pen
I look into a mirror and embrace every meaning of stability
Blotting out the madness behind a metal cage of reality
At times, I feel the need to bring down this masquerade
A drink so hostile, I can't even remember my image and name
Too many scars, from the foster of paper and pen
My dependents are drunken demons from a traumatized childhood
Tonight I will legislate a special thanks
Holding up my cup, until death finds my note
I will smile, at every Judge and Jury, during karaoke night
Shutting down my eyes, fantasizing everything's gonna be alright
I will not jilt knowing, writers block haunted my days away
Insecure hoarding monsters enjoying spoil forgotten words
Tonight I thirst like never before, my tongue inscribes around a tin cup
I am not eating up by it, no matter how long I've drowned in it
This is my kind of whisky, my thoughts, my days of ammo
To tell you the truth, I possess no desire to drink
It's all about the love of poetry and how sober, I become (WITHOUT)
The monsters that reside inside, have one thing to say
"Give me Poetry, or give me Death!"
by: PD
12 BARS
Twelve brazen bars, one frozen lock!
Confined, sublime, an ancient Roc
endures inside a barren cage,
her catacomb in sundown sage.
Of former days there is no trace
except displays of fallen grace –
Twelve dreams, abiding in her place,
are free, inhabit yawning space:
12 DREAMS
... of wings unfurled, and seething eyes
that dredge the depths of dawning skies,
divining clouds that cling below,
once ice, dissolved in morning’s glow;
... of clutching winds that carry free
above an anguished leaden sea,
dispersing dust of distant stars
midst chunks of chain in slave bazaars;
... of swooping to a silent shore
to perch beside the ocean’s roar,
at last to feel the sobbing breeze
message the leaves of rooted trees;
... of stalking strays and twilight tramps
within the fog of lighthouse lamps
that blink forlorn through caldron nights
in search of shades of errant Kites;
... of darkling vast deserted lands,
with shadowed stones on windswept sands,
where ghosts of Moorish maidens lost
disgorge faint groans in mourning frost;
... of blotting out the bloated moon
while feathers beat a banshee tune
and glimmers dance and prance aglow
upon a pearly pale plateau;
... of tasting cool torrential rains,
beyond the realm of binding reins,
and sipping freedom they exude
in quiet drops of solitude;
... of vanquishing a galley crew
aboard a ship of midnight dew,
beneath the pierce of seagulls' screams
that mock the strands of scarlet streams;
... of sating once an aching craw
with tearing beak, with ripping claw,
and echoed by an eldritch screech
while feasting on abandoned beach;
... of restive thoughts and weary wings
that drift on haze in smoky rings,
obscured within the opal shroud
of her resemblance in the crowd;
... of croaking caws in broken rhyme
in winter woe, in summer clime,
while building nests of sundown sage
beyond outside a barren cage.
Life and death across the sky
some must live and some
must die
Broken wings and slivers
showing
Shredded hopes the
wind is blowing
Feathers flying, hear the
call
Of the Night Hawk
through it all
Terror blotting out
the stars
Talons leaving
battle scars
Life and death across the
sky some will live and some will die.
PS - IT’S POETRY
Not merely words laid on a line
by blotting pens, by pencils fine
nor forms in perpetuity
teased with ambiguity.
It’s more, or less, depending on
the time of day, sunset or dawn
forever of the present mind
seeking what it cannot find.
For beauty is an “ugly” thing
a constant poets rarely bring
to broken lines of unfreed verse
to garbled words both sweet and terse
and yet it finds a way to bloom
across a page, throughout a room
crisp roses that will never wilt
petaled words - poetic quilt.
So write, erase, delete, reform
the present now become the norm
and you, the poet, must be free
‘cuz after all…. IT’S POETRY!
John G. Lawless
©12/8/2021
I hear outside my window the grey dove cry
As sun slides down the mountains, and I sigh
Watching night curtaining my city
Blotting streaks of violet from the sky
Shadows start to overtake the little light
Left glimmering as day turns into night.
He has left me! Easily the dark
Empties out the joy in me that once burned bright.
No trace of light remains under the door’s crack.
The dark, dressed in ebony, slips into pitch black.
Melancholy wraps me in my silent room.
In anguish, my brain screams out: I want him back!
Aimlessly wander veiled memories of yore
Each passing cloud subtly brings to fore
Recalling regrets, where laments agonize,
Thinking of you, searching forsaken skies,
Muting spent emotions of anguished eyes.
O how we rejoiced in blissful sunny days
When dawns arose on glinted arc ablaze
As golden beams pierced shrouded haze
Defying onslaught of darkened malaise
Intent on blotting zealous romantic phase.
Recalling ardent dreams with you I stroll
Where gleam of your smile brightens soul
As allure of amorous past feelings cajole
Emanating from desires heartbeats extol
In language of passion yesteryears scroll.
Every cloud etches effigy of love gone awry
Yet, thunder of stygian vibes fiercely I defy,
For return of clear skies in your longing I vie
Denouncing certitude hosting forlorn sigh,
Remorseful of ego that callously bid goodbye.
March 8, 2023
Placed 1st: Each Passing Cloud Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Reminiscing a Future
Taste of my Teddy bear suckling comfort
Cool button in his ear on my tongue
Sound of silence of parachute’s silk
The nothingness of free fall before landing
Sight of an Octopus squirting ink onto my
Diving mask blinding with glimpses of vision
Touch of cow’s dung heating a humble
Wall sheltering compassionate feelings
Smell of blotting paper on a fountain
Pen’s script reflecting short-lived fragrance
Synaesthesia? Nonsense? Common Sense? Sixth Sense?
Ethereal Incense of mind soul and body transcending?
I taste childhood
I hear freedom
I see no delusions
I touch equality
I smell passion
I sense...Forever
26th July 2018
As I stared into the starless night,
the blinding lights of the city blotting out the beauty of a
cloudless sky fading away into day
I wonder what we missed this time - so preoccupied with our
earthly troubles - perhaps a message that Heaven wanted us to hear
Could it be a winsome Sonnet that was waiting in the winds for us, but we did not listen?
As I looked out over the waters of the endless river - flowing steady
The small streams making their own separate way, reflecting the
beauty of the Moon lighting up the night sky; What is the story they
have to tell - but we are too busy trying to sort out the problems we
brought upon ourselves
Could it be a sweet Melody in answer to the questions that flow continuously through our hearts?
Oh Look! Behold the mountains rising in the distance - the lovely
Daffodils and Sunflowers moving in the soft winds - blue green grass covering the Earth from as far as the eye can see - What is this Song they sing? Do we not understand the language they speak to us? Are we so filled with the
worries of everyday life that the meaning is hidden from our minds
Could it be a wholesome Ballad to guide us through the maze of the
issues of everyday life?
It seems we can translate with ease the verbiage of hate filled hearts;
We put ourselves in agreement with the Lie; that our Creator made one
race of people superior to another; we read the dictionary filled with the
meaning of murder, betrayal and treachery - perpetrated upon others who
were made in the same image as ourselves - and then we watch with
closed hearts the consequential results of indulging in this dark information
Could it be that we missed the sweet Song whispering in our hearts
from Heaven's Choir?
Before the stars were created,
there pulsar shined an infinity Light
in the primordial void
It shone soul supernova bright,
before the world ever was
Before this blue marble of green was made,
there moon glowed a celestial Son
Whose solar mercy was salvation poised
A Halo silhouette cast in the Genesis shade,
did cover every future confession
Blotting out sin-colored, Big Bang noise
The crimson wave blight
was preemptively cast out of sight
Before any blue wail was
In the evolutionary dawn of creation,
(that stellar parade of firmament praise)
Invisible parental eyes witnessed
the mirror image Light of perfection
No shadow of doubt existed
before the world was
Paradise tears were Eden formed
Adam and Eve naked fears
wouldn’t be the sunlit tilted norm
Maize inner darkness
(that bier hole in the bosom pale)
could have no purchase hiding place
to fallow tomb harvest
Only husbandry shining echoes were
cosmic background heard
Resurrection radiant words,
heavenly rooted in the revival future
Where bleating sounds now
graze Holy words undisturbed,
in luminance superb
After the old world was
candle light snub scrolled away
11-22-20
Back then,
backyards were big enough
to nurture a growing soul
and provide a space
for the earth to play out
its seasons in full rehearsal.
There were wide tracks
of grass, trees to climb,
old sheds to rummage
with their interiors full of tools
and bric-a-brac
webbed in history.
There was food - ripe tomatoes
and corn from a vegetable patch,
grapes swelling
under a cool canopy of vines,
soft skins bursting
their dark sweetness
inside expectant mouths,
almonds, apricots and the luscious
dribble of a warm peach
down sticky cheeks.
Some had roaming chickens
with their bounty of eggs.
Backyards were blotting paper
for a child's hurt, a hiding place
to get away, a theater
for projecting the phantasies
of a sheriff or a princess
high in a golden tower.
And in summer, a sprinkler
casting a gauntlet of cold spray
for tiny feet to challenge.
Then it all ends
when backyards become
too small and more exotic places
call a restless soul to leave
its Eden and break the spell
of its beginning.
faraway as it opens your eyes chocolate melts now
wide with awe of a diamond wonder shining gleams
only if your were here embracing life magic majestic
love to spoil and cook for you something so delicious
putting your feet up softly watching a real-heart movie
sounds real my dream bride so beautiful and so real
as I looked into a candle as it flickers alone quietly
one light thinking dancing in thoughts all-together
night shades color the luster of a silver star winking
a small shadow pervades ever so blotting starlight
slightly as I hear you calling me as shades whisper
in our crowded corner thoughts of passionate love
distant faraway wonders breathless whispers calling
me toward simple things catching my breathing sighs
just throwing a few more turf on the fire right now
starting to heat up my frozen breaths icy steaming
clouds misting as the sky clouds my breath true blue
sweet dreams princess sits regal crowning charming
with the angels filled within love flying without wings
catch you in my dreams tonight until the sun kisses
your face and eyelids golden warm beautiful bright
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (May 14, 2015)
(Unrhymed Tercet)
As I wend my way around curving roads
up high into the mountains
I finally arrive at the Eight Gables Inn.
I wonder what it is that drives me here!
Perhaps I have developed wings
and flew across the Atlantic towards
The Great Smoky Mountains
on my adventurous ride
to the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Tired I hope the Inn
will live up to its reputation.
The sun is setting as I view
the purple orange skies darken,
whilst here and there lights
in desolate cottages twinkle in the dark.
I hasten to my private bath
and slowly sink in the warm water,
overpowered by the smell of soapy foams.
Pleased with my silky skin
I put on a plush bathrobe
luxuriously enjoying the feel
of the soft fabric against my spores,
and with a graceful dive find myself
on top of a feather-top bed.
This is the life of luxury...
Until I feel the taste of blotting paper
that cover my whole mouth.
I open my eyes and know
it was all a dream, alas.
They trickled down my cheeks in steady streams
and blotting was no use, the dam gave way.
As tears continued, some fell to the floor.
I bent to wipe them- and began to sway.
I lost my balance, and my right hand slipped
upon the tears and somehow shoved my head
against a bench and stabbing pain set in,
while flashing lights appeared- in yellow- red.
It seemed I landed on a soft white cloud,
and angels kneeling all around me wept.
I was not frightened- just felt quite at peace,
like this was where all happiness was kept.
And on this cloud, I floated through the sky
without a care or worry in my heart.
But oh, the angels kept on weeping still-
I did not know where sadness played its part.
My tears were gone, and gladness filled my soul;
my heart was free of all my doom and gloom.
I felt so light and happy floating in the air.
Then, all at once, I woke up in a room
upon my bed with loved ones all around!
I had passed out, you see, but now was fine.
Intensity of sadness now was gone-
and slipping on my teardrop quite benign.
I had landed in an unconscious state
inside a glimpse of heaven, overjoyed
that heartbreak from my kitty that I lost
was there, but my strong spirit- not destroyed.
Those angels where I landed cried for me
and spared me my own tears to mourn my pain.
They helped me ease my burden, heal my heart-
embrace life's peace and happiness again.
While transient clouds ripple in streaks
Below a heap of perfumed blooms prances ,
While fireflies wheel through evening, mellow…
Just then, rainfall blows
Like a funerary gush of tears
Damping my cheeks, blotting night’s glint,
As I ,in a long sojourn of ambivalence
Writhe again inside--- heart rousing a storm.
~
How in low flicker, time wobbles on…
The jasmines gone before I could hold them-
Ignoring such charm as they brush my skin.
~
Maybe this fault of gloom overcomes me..
I fail to see this life, this timely presence .
I don't know why …
My breath feels the dying and the low:
Till fireflies circle my body with radiance
Awakening a flame to grasp this moment,
To open these eyes and relish
A pure delight of what is unfurling NOW.
1.03.2017 Form C :
Broken Wings Contest/em>