Best Bottleneck Poems
There sat in opulent xanadu, the
demagogue of empirical hedonism,
his granary once fuelled regal reign of epicureanism:
gregarious, restive, much-awaited successor of imperial dominion,
neurotic, obstinate, was the cynosure of cynicism.
The eldest child of Duke and Dutchess of York, erstwhile Prince of Wales,
the proclaimed young heir, stood far from the course of sceptical euphemism;
The heir apparent had a historical encounter with Wallis Warfield Simpson by fatalism,
by wooing Wallis, the royal blood encountered, clangorous cynical criticism.
The resultant mayhem broke, the blue- blood became the bottleneck of idealism;
sagacious, was brooding strategies to be the prototype of unprecedented heroism.
The proclaimed marriage faced vehement oppositions:
encompassing : religious, political, legal and moral objections.
The outright denial to accept Wallis as the king's consort, broke the anticipated rebellion,
Edward's refusal to give her up, led to his final abdication.
When was quite apparent, he could not marry his beloved Simpson,
finally settled to rebuke the throne from etched imperialism as emancipation.
The man of the hour was then entitled "the Duke of Windsor", a transformation stunned the world and wrote an unprecedented statement in chronicle after abdication.
Edward VIII, once epitome of monarchism, became an ideal icon of asceticism.
A sybarite, turned commoner by deserting the successive chair of the british kingdom to wed his ladylove;
a tale of unprecedented impeccable loyalism.
The abdicator's epitaph on Royal Burial Ground, Frogmore,
is still bearing in indelible transcription,
the testimony of an uncustomary love saga of renunciation.
An epoch making transformation, decades have ever witnessed from iconic monarchism to transcendental loyalism:
through unprecedented renouncement
of the bequeathed throne
to array chronicle's unrivalled iconoclasm.
All Rights Reserved © SILPIKA KALITA
My reflection is too heavy to bear
alone, it’s easier to look at myself and my failures
through the amber liquid, tears
through my system, warm and sure.
You left me gracefully, lackluster
Shutting the door on us softly without a word
Void of fireworks and battle cries, with blockbuster
neglect, taking your shattered armor and rusty sword.
This battle you have won with each tip of the bottle,
in the direction of my throat is a rifle.
Will you be the trigger to my gun?
My stomach twists into slipknots.
Escape is too easy at this dangerous hour
But I am no coward and I face my
gallows though the vision of a bottleneck
to slacken the rope.
I have waited for you to
steady these trembling hands with the power of the sun.
Please stop my shaking fingers
with laugh that I miss the most.
I crushed what I could of what remained of your smiles
into the glasses I pour my vices into, just to have you around.
You shine, its easy to mistake
your human actions for a divine intervention of a false god.
My faith is weak.
Shattering with every blink,
I can see the thousands of mistakes
that I have made, and it cuts into
everything.
You cut into everything.
Shattering me after every swallow
You cut into everything.
My liquid love.
It's a cool mesure of life blood low
keeping the venous vacant return and arterial alert
compressive but maniacal
down deep fried effervesence continued a bliss
smooth blow horn alive high frequency antedote
fever pitch a b--i-- t==...c,,,h mellow deed digestive
cornerstone just picked, not canned cloud
billows apiece with networks intact
sublime charged unpatterened--to gut cord
noose cadence couffiures---who needs to look
when you can heartfeel the resonance trueblue
mild like casket breaths mishapen to formless
'guises compact summer stated summer not
he--ightened proseless panarama to stiffle
the mistermasters time corrided but indelibly
remembered and "coited to us"---like
creature interruptus. Follow the ill laid scheme
and bottleneck every word line graph to a sinomeasure
rhyme myth only time will tell tribute
pour the mind from the soul fill the void with the
gush of private reserve subvintage--but held
crime captive via socioprocastination of free, non taxable
no interest due, no penalty for "early withdrawal"
purely personal, single minded, "brand H-one
owner single sibiling thought jester cannibal
yum yum eat'em up eat'em up.
It's a cool measure of our ex'd life blood low
family volume keeping the venous-return and arterial
alert-compressive, but youth manical-down
deep fried effervescence continuance abliss
smooth blowburn alive-high frequency antedote
fevered pitch-a mellow deed
digestive cornerstone just picked, uncanned
cloud billows a piece with network intact
sublime charged unpatterened--to a gut cord
noose cadence coiffure--who needs to look
when you can heartfeel a resonance true blue of
mild like casket breath misshapen to formless
guises compacting a summer stated, summer not
he-ightened proseless panaroma to stiffle
the mister masters time corro-did but
indelibly remembermarked
and "coited to us"--like creature
interruptus. follow the ill laid scheme and
bottleneck every word line graph to a sinco
(rap) measure rhyme myth time will tell tribute
pour the mind from the soul fill the
white void with the gush of
private reserve vintage but held captive
via sociopropacastration of free, non
taxable, no interest due, no penality
for "early withdrawal" purely personal
single minded, brand H----one owner
mono little rascal sibiling extract, thought jester cannibal
yumyum eat'em up-eat'em up. Napkin?
With the advancement of age
Man starts to think about marriage
The boy and the girl are nubile.
It's high time to change the living style
Through the union of husband and wife
Marriage brings stability in life.
Being the foundation stone of the family.
It is the source of progeny.
However, sociologists have divergent opinions.
To preserve freedom they propose free-union.
Tie a noose around your neck
You find yourself in the bottleneck
Who said marriages are made in heaven?
For it turns everything at sixes and sevens
Many affirm previously they were well
Now life has become a hell
So, if it's not a perfect mode of living
Is there any new method for our well being?
Here it is again
That sudden uneasiness
The alarms are going off in my body
My heart begins to pound
The blood rushes to my head
I can't think clearly
My mind starts to crave safety from something...
In my mind I tell myself, "It's time to go
Time to get away from here"
And I'm not even sure if it's legit, the cause of my fear
But it's there and I can't shake it
I can barely talk
My mouth has become an inadequate tool
An indecisive thing
In the process of speaking I become
a child digging through his alphabet soup with a tongue for a spoon
Rearranging the letters into words
And trying to pick the right one like a victim staring through the glass at the line up
Is it one, two....five, six?
Which one of these will deserve a sentence?
Not knowing what I should say feels like a crime....
And when my words fail I fall into the habit of judging myself for it
I stutter
Skip words
My larynx becomes a boa constrictor wrapping itself around the them and turns my throat into a bottleneck that they can't slip through
Sometimes after having an awkward moment I replay the situation in my head and think I made myself look like a fool
I break out in a sweat
And my body burns with embarrassment
When I'm in public and I feel out of place
I pan my eyes out over the faces in the crowd
Not wanting to simply keep my head down
But at the same time not wanting to maintain eye contact
Not wanting to invite other people's attention or whatever else may be coming
I hint of laughter nearby catches my attention
I look around...
Is that for me?
So much insecurity....
This thing...it causes me to treat people like caution lights and a part of me can't help but feel that it's necessary and that I need to do that but other times I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't so hesitant to interact
If I could just be easy going and let things flow but I'm too restrained
Too cautious
Too scared to trust myself and be bold or trust those around me because I'm not sure what will happen
Sometimes I wish I could be free from this thing that hinders me
My dear, ever present anxiety
You smile at a distance,
Honesty hidden behind your teeth,
Tongue poised to reminisce,
Of linen floors and bed-sheets,
I can't remember,
How your hand felt in mine,
Memory locked in December,
When our fingers intertwined,
A nostalgic misfortune,
Cheap stuffed bear excavated by golden cranes,
Entering our relationship's 7th edition,
A 90 degree kiss coupled by growing pains,
Following the path of our stiff walk home,
These nights alone are my whiskey,
And your cup of tea,
Perfectly content in my fluorescent dome,
While your opening the windows in your house among the trees,
Bottleneck ballads,
Your stained glass lips sting,
Muddy ink word salad,
Our awaited reunion we approach like zombies shambling,
It's just my gemini stigma,
Silver tongues and lead bodies,
A matrimonial enigma,
Her neglection and your idolatry,
My story with her written by the space-bar,
And ours stargazing in telescope cars,
An atmospheric distance,
My mile high sky,
Your callous correspondence,
My overbearing replies,
My reluctant departure,
Your earnest independence,
Our paper-thin affair,
So alone we wander motionless.
don't be afraid to be foolish and stupid (Heroditus)
When I first met her
I knew there was something
she gave me
a spontaneous drumroll
ascending to creative spirit
she gave me
passion petals
potential riddles
and irrasistable dreams
a hallelujah in my heart
could she hear it?
she gave me
hopefull hump into the night
always delivered
with style
like jousting with a flying kite
wholding energy all the while,
she gave me
supernatural second sightings
continual cocktail lightenings
whirling dizzying dance exclusions
all leading to this conclusion:
I was half - glass empty
bored
drunk and crazy
when she appeared,
I was darkly deep
down where there is only silence
I was alone personified
until our alliance
Alone with just my dog
and weekend child
So simple a life, so mild
I never would have guessed
she was to be my wife
An exotic beauty with twinkle
and belly dance
of fine gratuity
she soaked me entranced
like a sponge in the
starving Sun
(I had truly thought She was the ONE!!)
she gave me
wringing hands around
midnight,
bottleneck bands
of anxious light,
everfalling hourglass sands
seemingly never hitting
bottom,
burried under legless hands
and an empty drawer
full of condoms,
she gave me
superflous frustration
rafting hills of insecure persperation
nervous to even be
alone
with my solitary self
atop my pre determined destination
on Susana's Shelf
wobbling
anecdotal
narrative
conspicuously
from
nature's
vernal
threads,
twisting
stitching
an
ornamental
of
bucolic
rustic
quintessence
whispered
yarns
of
spring
relics
rains
bottleneck
processing
seal
blubber
in
hollowed
space
still
withholding
still
shut
mercy
of
rain
silence
depth
&
night
abyss
questions
throbbing
&
blunders
resurface
in
search
of
peace
built
bridge
on
mountains
&
climbed
streams
hunting
peace
to
breathe
believe
air
was real
dreams
reconciled
unique
comfortable
place
laying
on your
heart
to
feel
your
pulse
&
love
Written: February 18, 2023
YOUR CHOICE AGAIN Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Oh how I wish I were in that position.
If I was picked by John Beresford Tipton
to be granted a one million dollar check.
Can reality get past the bottleneck
of an imaginary situation?
Is there such altruism in this nation?
That classic show of fifties television
might be quite popular in this modern day.
Michael Anthony, come over right away!
Bring that million dollars immediately.
You are just the right person I want to see.
If Mr. Tipton wants to help somebody,
won’t you please turn his attention towards me?
IT HUNG IN THE SMOKEHOUSE FOR YEARS ON END,
JUST AN OLD BLACK COAT THAT NO ONE WOULD MEND.
THE LAST ONE TO WEAR IT WORE IT IN DEATH,
HE HAD IT ON WHEN HE BREATHED HIS LAST BREATH.
MY MEMORIES OF HIM ARE WEAK AND FEW,
BUT I HEARD MANY TALES OF THE LIFE HE KNEW.
BACK IN THE THIRTIES IN EAST TENNESSEE,
JOBS WERE SCARCE AND TIMES WERE HARD FOR A FAMILY.
IN ORDER TO SURVIVE, SOME TURNED TO THE BAD
THE DEEP MOUNTAIN HOLLOWS WERE ALL THEY HAD.
THE MOONSHINE STILL GAVE HOPE FOR MEN WHO WERE DOWN
THEY MADE AND SOLD CORN WHISKEY ‘TIL OFFICERS CAME AROUND.
HE WAS CAUGHT AND PUT UNDER A PRISON GUARD BOSS
SENTENCED TO BRUSHY MOUNTAIN, IN THE HILLS OF PETROS.
HE’D ALWAYS PLAYED TUNES ON HIS OLD GUITARS
SO, DURING HIS CONFINEMENT, HE PICKED BEHIND BARS.
IN HIS TIME OF INCARCERATION, AND AWAY FROM THE ROCK-PILE
SOME AFRICAN-AMERICANS SHOWED HIM A NEW PICKING STYLE.
THEY FINGER-PICKED THE BLUES WITH A BROKEN BOTTLENECK
HE LEARNED THESE SOUNDS AS EACH TUNE HE’D COLLECT.
WHEN HE’D SERVED HIS TIME AND CAME BACK TO HIS HOME
HE HAD NO OTHER DESIRE TO RAMBLE OR ROAM.
HE MET MY WIDOWED GRANDMOTHER, THEY CHOSE TO WED
ALL HIS MISTAKES AND EARLY WRONGS, SHE HELPED HIM SHED.
FOR A FEW SHORT YEARS, THEY LABORED TOGETHER
IT WAS THEIR INTENTION TO BE FAITHFUL FOREVER.
BUT THERE CAME A NIGHT AT OUR COMMUNITY SCHOOL
WHEN AN OFFICER OF THE LAW THOUGHT HE’D BROKEN A RULE.
THOUGH THE DEPUTY WAS MISTAKEN, THE TRUTH HE REFUSED
HE RESISTED HIS DEMANDS, HE WOULD NOT BE ABUSED.
THEY STRUGGLED, A GUN WAS FIRED, THE BULLET ENTERED HIS CHEST
AN INNOCENT MAN LAY DEAD, IN HIS BLACK COAT DRESSED.
I REMEMBER THE OLD BLACK COAT WITH ITS LARGE GAPING HOLE
TO MY YOUNG AND FERTILE MIND, IT SPOKE OF A STORY TOLD.
MY GRANDMA WAS A WIDOW FOR THE SECOND TIME
AND THIS TIME IT WAS BECAUSE OF A LEGALIZED CRIME.
HE DIED IN THIRTY-NINE, WHEN I WAS ONLY FOUR
BUT I RECALL THAT NIGHT OF SORROW, IT’S A MEMORY I KEEP IN STORE.
I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE KNOWN HIM IN MY YOUNG DAYS
I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW MORE OF HOW HE CHANGED HIS WAYS.
You want a moment
To take a breath
I said I’d wait for you
But you up and left
I’m back to chasing shadows
Running from the light
Can’t stop the bleeding
It’s a product of oversight
If the pieces break
Can you force them back together
Is there soup for the soul
That’ll make my heart feel better
Bottleneck caught the promises
Straining the lies
Not much left to work with
Eventually I’ll come down from the highs
Can I get a hit
To get from night to day
The chains are pulling
Cause it’s so hard to stay away
Grains of sand, begin to stream in steady flow,
As the hour glass is flipped over.
One by one, they fall, through the bottleneck.
Each one a moment, a tick, tick, tock, soft and brief.
On top, the grains are gathered haphazardly in a pile.
At the slippery neck constriction they line up to queue.
like a flock of birds or a school of fish,
getting ready to be called to free-fall in formation,
through the slippery glass funnel into the abyss below.
There they pile-up forming a stock-pile of memories
shaped in an inverted funnel of regret begotten,
in a pile with sand grains tumbling down the sides.
At the top of the hour glass lied a collection of time unspent,
Below lies a pile of sand grain ticks, expended, some misspent.
Between them, lies the funnel of fate’s eternal hand,
Its fingers guiding the passage of time
as grains of sand flowing through the hourglass.
Grain by grain, moments fall,
all fragile and small.
time drifts endlessly
slipping away
sinking,
gone
as memories
pile up, collected
as they spill and tumble
down the face of the base
of the sand filled hourglass
Announcement from Congress
By Franklin Price
4/1/2017
Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye
We've come to you today
To announce a change in Washington
To begin the first of May
We the seated members
Of the Legislative here
Have agreed to work together
To make our actions very clear
Work with the current president
Try to get things done
We know we've been the bottleneck
We admit that we're the ones
Putting parties in the back seat
Here to reach cross the aisle
To make this country great again
To make you the people smile
If you like what we've announced here
Please join us in the pool
Be another U.S. Citizen
Another year an April Fool
i o u
by Michael R. Burch
i might have said it
but i didn’t
u might have noticed
but u wouldn’t
we might have been us
but we couldn’t
u might respond
but probably shouldn’t
Keywords/Tags: Impasse, Defeat, Alienation, Divorce, Break Up, Breaking Up, Parting, Separation, Loss, Lost Love, Goodbye, Farewell, Absence, Leaving, Solitude, Deadlock, Logjam, Stalemate, Standstill, Halt, Dead End, Cul-de-sac, Bind, Bottleneck, Box, Corner, Mire, Pickle, Gridlock, Rubicon, Dunkirk, Alamo, Waterloo, Lost Cause, Downfall, Stumbling Block, Monkey Wrench