Best Bottled Poems
If love is a drug
my chemist doesn't have it.
Where can I find some?
it comes and goes lately it seems
to linger leaving a few more scars
in its wake the mastering of self
the balance of craving the emptiness
shattered beneath us why must we
relive old memories collecting
saddened streams of haste causing
injury to the pure foundation of
emotional bliss the beautiful part
of self that rises to the surface
to rescue us from complete despair
awaken to soon we continue to wonder
aimlessly into moving traumatic events
reaching for respite familiar reoccurring
night terrors offering up our own
mental self broken by a bleak metaphor
seeking melancholy behavior only
finding mirth bottled up to perfection
All Bottled Up
Bottlenecks are one thing driving down the road
Making one late for work is another
Cumbersome, slow and an all time low
Containers made from glass have their ups and downs
Mostly downs we’re told
Their poisons kill aristocrats, the poor, poets known and unknown
Highs and lows are surely going to come
From bottles filled with rum
At first a happy swirling drunk
Becomes laid out sad and dumped
Delicious wine waits for me when I get home
The matter is getting beyond the cork and glass
Such troubles are these things
Bottles simply have no class and make me wince
To obtain the treasure there within
I have to use the cork screw
But bottle with evil intent conspires with the opener
Will not help me or comply to let me in
What’s the use? A hammer will have to do
Other bottles from long ago held potions, magic, and snake oil brew
Fluids ran wild in the old west causing more deaths than cures for sure
And no one had a clue it was the containers that they used
When shipping bottles made from glass
I have to label “fragile” and send them 1st. class
The ebb and flow and pour from every bottle
Illegal in Prohibition times
Caused many alcoholics to cry
I guess that was a crime
Consumers today can fill their glasses free from thought
From decanters, jars and urns that carry their own weight
Someone with a bottle will always be around though
To hit me on my head for something I might say
And if the bottle breaks, someone, (I'm guessing me), will have to pay
5/19/14 Slamming Battle Round 2 contest
fresh flowing water
denied freedom of movement
trapped in a bottle
-----------------------------------------------------------
Paul Callus ~ 20th July 2014
Contest: One Solo EPIC Senryu or Haiku - In a Bottle
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placing: 2nd
A bell-jar, crystalline, as transparent as an aquarium
Vibrant colors burnt umbers tints glass atop the kitchen table.
No elaborate gardening, just gentle misting in the terrarium
Muted pinks, earthy tones, texture soft as Siberian sable
My supercilious ways are overridden by fecund elegance.
Gather around my friends and behold cherished succulents.
These flowery cacti, such profuse perennial poetic ebullience,
with an award worthy, floral southwestern desert essence.
bottled thoughts within
release brings rich aeration
added depth to taste
(February 9, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
Emotions, what exactly are they?
Many think they are part of being
human, others think they are shared
by all living things.
Anger, happiness, sadness, love
and hate, these are all emotions;
confusion ripens within them all.
Life itself provides opportunities
for emotions to take seed within
the mind but many things can sow
them deep within.
A mixture of emotions can be felt
instantly, like a dark cloud falling
as rain on to the drought damaged
ground.
Emotions can make many feel full
of irksome thoughts that never
seem to go away; they sink their
claws deeper into the mind
determined to make their mark.
Many of us have the inane habit of
masking our true emotions with
a false reflection of contentment
when chaos is occurring within
our minds; depression and misery
are forged in the furnace of the
mind, creating a prison to
bottle up our true emotions.
Many bottles may be created
but eventually they will shatter
releasing the emotions in one
explosive event demolishing the
false outer shell of deception.
Bottled emotions..
Washed off by the salty waves,
Came a crystal bottle
Nurturing a sweet white note
Decorated by a silky red ribbon
Bare footed,
She had waited for this
Since ages
Tachycardia took over
With trembling hands
Sparkling eyes
When she unplugged the glass prison
Out flew her lover's note
Kissing her lips
Enthralling her senses
Gently laid words on the wood's pulp
Saying
My love, come let us unite at 'dusk'
When like this bottle
I shall swim back to my destiny
And the age long wait shall be over..
@ 'dusk'.....
bottled inside her
suppressed years of frustration
looming eruption
Our ashes have settled on the cliff of pride
while the seed of today sprouts your frailty beginning.
We have at last seen the face of our god
which you have not even learned to utter
or never will at all.
Your intelligence gave you power that
failed the comprehension of our yesterfathers.
You built humans in just a sprinkle of semen
on to the skin of alligators and ants
on to the stem of a bee and the sting of a plant.
And you called them your sons
And you called them your kind.
The burrowed earths have no more riches
and they are left unpalatable to worms,
no more worms even
for even these decomposers
learn to tire feeding on your greed
no more shades of blue in the putrid waters
to which this bottle was thrown,
to which this letter longed to swim with your same species
that can never be in our family tree
for it has grown dead atop the impotent soil.
How we wished that your sons wished they
were with us in the time when
sparrows roared in the Kamagong tree when
wild boars chirped in the dancing bamboos when
the snow-like smokes breathed in the cone of Mayon when
the bangus and tilapia worshipped the nets of the singing fishermen.
How we wished they wished they knew.
How we wished they wished they saw.
© 04-11-13
as the days go by the racing thoughts wont stop
it comes to the point where i can feel my heart drop
past memories tearing me apart
who knows if i will ever have a fresh start
something has died inside of me and its probably my heart
i grow colder and colder thinking wen will this all stop
flashbacks and im stuck in thought
who would of even known i would fall apart
i can hear the screams echoing in my mind
pain in my stomache and the thoughts of him inside me arent so kind
put the gun to my head and they have taken all i got
why god why me whhy wont this stop
i guess i made this life who knowws what will be next
im sick of the ex n the perverted men offering money for sex
how could i ever respect?
wishful men walking in the door hoping for a score
but when they cross my path i give them my all leaving myself feeling like a foolish
whore
in my mind i think ive won \
taking everything, even there funds
i sold my soul to the devil
and im trying to buy it back
believe me when i say i been to hell and back...
verses gnomic verses
limericks sonnets haiku
poetry bottled
suffocated caged
waiting for liberation
senryu tanka cinquain
crystalline nonnets acrostics
terrible,ballad ballade bucolics
poetry packed into bottles
odes no more kings or queens
still we bottle up poetry
A Bottled Message of Grace
A successfully affluent lawyer began to wander
Through many years of alcoholism, he fell
Ten years he wandered around in the wilderness
In a drunken state at the bottom of life’s well
Everything he had known in his past life was a blur
Like a dust that slipped through his fingers so quickly
Searching the empty hole in his heart he collapsed
finding himself laying in the street beaten and sickly
Lacking the resources to buy more alcohol he fumbles
Through his pockets looking for change maybe a dollar
His stomach rolls from the lack of nutritious food
His mouth is parched as he loosens his collar
Filthy he heads for the beach to wash in its water
Contemplating suicide, a small bottle tapped on his back
Opening the bottle he saw a note inside with his name on it
Heart racing he opens the note as he looked for a place to sit
Trembling hands , his face washed in tears he slowly read
Dear Joe, This message has followed you for many years
My invitation is to welcome you back home repaired
If you say yes this note will bring you back restored and fed
Leaping to his feet he screams “YES” I accept your invitation
A warmth passed through him like a thousand thundering storms
His body shook as the blinders fell off his eyes he cried, Father
You are my Son, my love breaks with light upon this your new morn
A message in a bottle is all Joe would see
God uses what he needs to reach you and me
It is never to late to reach up for his grace
He will always shine his love upon your face
Carole Cookie Arnold
Mystical Rendering
Spirit in the sky
clouds blue and stationary
Thought and Universe
07/20/2014
Bottled up verses
Longing to be free from lungs
sore throat closes shut