Best Botched Poems
Botched Artwork Saves Town
Sometime last year, in late August 2015, something unusual went viral..
It was an ancient picture on the wall, vastly unlike its original art..
A piece of botched artwork, unfinished, and yet all over the world it enthralled..
People, the tourist kind, they made a quick bee line, to see for themselves..
Ecce Homo, a seemingly priceless ancient painting in a church , upon one of its wall..
Time has ravaged its brilliant colours , and its paintwork well flaked off the wall..
One artistic old lady of 83, she took it upon herself to try restore its beauty..
Painstakingly she laboured upon days on end, as expertly as she can..
She meant well, it hurts her artistic soul to see the priceless artwork fade..
She tried her best, but the colours, they ran and it was a difficult task..
She had to go away for a short while, she left behind a half restored art...
Someone in church, horrified no doubt, took a picture of it as a matter of fact..
The uploaded picture in the internet, it was shared and quickly it went viral..
Many found it amusing, there was so much scorn, it was soundly ridiculed..
The Ecce *****fresno, or Behold The Man, it now looks like a monkey or a porcupine…
A picture of a mournful Jesus is no more, in its place is an artwork that is one of its kind…
Poor Cecilia, a widow and amateur painter, she never had a chance to finish her effort..
Her failed restoration effort rocketed around the globe and then a miracle of sorts..
People started thronging to this church in Borja, Spain, it was a pilgrimage of some kind...
After the viral picture on the internet, people just had to see and view this new find…..
Now that 150,000 visitors have come and gone, Borja is a town rejuvenated and restored..
In this village of medieval palaces and winding lanes, this botched artwork has the town resurrected…
All the free publicity from a botched artpiece, it has been a breath of life to the local economy..
God works in mysterious ways, it explains the good fortunes that follows from the smudgy renderings..
http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/15/world/a-town-if-not-a-painting-is-restored.html?_r=0
I believe...
I see...
I think...
I feel...
Therefore I am. I am. I am.
Flesh & blood. Bone & hair.
My words aren't mixing, aren't rhyming, aren't anything.
Failed attempts to s-p-e-a-k.
Each letter is blotchy & black.
My mouth is filled with Rorschach tests.
Can you find the hidden meaning? Do you see a giraffe or brains blown against
the wall?
"I thought I knew", she said with a faint smile.
"Oh honey you never knew..."
In Florida's land, where horror's dance,
A tale of darkness, a macabre trance,
Whispers echo through death's domain,
Of botched executions, haunting pain.
Within those chambers of somber despair,
Where lives are tethered by the politician's snare,
Justice, is sought, with trembling hands,
But fate plays out a wicked, evil stand.
The first scene unfolds, a chilling sight,
As veils of lethal fog blanket the night,
The chemical concoction, a deadly brew,
To end a life, as the law construes.
But nature, in her cruel jest, did jest,
And tremors shook the chamber's breast,
The veins refused to yield their prize,
As life endured, against all demise.
Witnesses watched in awe and fear,
The agony, the failure, all too clear,
The reaper's grip, a fleeting grasp,
A botched finale, a grievous lapse.
And yet again, the gallows called,
A stage for justice, where souls were enthralled,
But darkness loomed, a looming cloud,
As time stood still, in silence, proud.
The hangman's noose, a deadly shroud,
Was cast upon a soul, as whispers vowed,
But fate, with twisted hands, did play,
And life endured, despite the fray.
Florida's soil, now stained in red,
With echoes of horrors, the tears unshed,
In the quest for justice, so grave and dire,
The heartache lingers, a ghostly choir.
For who can claim the righteous path,
When faltering steps invite the wrath?
The specters of the botched remain,
Their haunting cries, an everlasting stain.
In Florida's land, where shadows creep,
And troubled souls find no solace, no sleep,
Let us remember the lessons taught,
Of flawed endeavors, human thoughts.
For in the depths of these chilling tales,
Resides a truth that never pales,
That justice sought with blemished might,
Is but a phantom, lost in night.
IN AND OF BOTCHED SOWN UNAWARENESS
Just unlock your mind,
And let its waves freely flow:
Frothing awareness:-
I thought you needed my help;
Me, loving unaware:
How unfortunate,
My mental awareness botched;
My mind blindsided:
Triumphant love shadowing
Forgiveness being denied:-
We reap what we sow.
To reap love, you must sow it:
Life’s divine wisdom:-
How could I have sown hate?!
Please God, reveal it to me:-
Ready and waiting,
Like a young ripe banana
Picked for love’s pudding,
Sage forgiveness faithfully
Waits, mixing in love’s pudding:-
mistake was worst than a bungle or blunder or ****
totally botched, mishandled and mismanaged
auto mechanics excuses put dad in a funky huff
his Ford was in worst shape now, totally damaged