Best Careering Poems
In the cool of the evening he laid there basking
as my fingers touched the gleaming surface of the pool.
Deeper i penetrated till my hand was beneath him,
slowly my fingers engaged his slithery belly,
then gently with a slight single movement
to and thro, then up and down
his whole body fully relaxed as he rolled a little
to accommodate me.
As he laid there his eye and my eyes connected
each of us wondering no doubt what the next move would be,
while carefully not to let my nose which was just above the surface
play any part in this my devious quest.
Suddenly a water skater bug came floating by
and decided to explore my nostril,
at this point making me sneeze, the force of the blast
sending the bug careering upon the surface.
In a flash swallowed by my impending supper
who then scurried away to the safety
of the rocky bed of the creek,
to become King Trout for another day.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
Categories:
careering, adventure, food,
Form:
Narrative
I feel so tired… not with my work.. or my life…
I am so tired with my own thoughts own heart..
I would really like a few minutes break at last..
I have searched the whole world for a honest friend…
A friend to be with me always.. To talk to me and to know me..
Not physically.. But emotionally… With thoughts and calls..
Even a single message to know that I am alright…
A person just like me.. From my own heart..
Who will understand my silence in my words…And tears behind my smiles…
Who will care for me and be there for me…
Not only in my happiness but also in my tears..
Like I am there for friends.. like how I care for them..
Everyone is busy with their own daily working life..
Phone calls are not answered and messages aren’t replied…
So many have become so cold hearted like ice..
Its really heard to fins a true one,, honest one and a caring one..
I have searched the whole wide world..But I haven’t still found none..
One a wise man told me and wrote to me and said..
“Friends are like ships in the sea… they stay for a while and leave…
And there will be many ships that will passes by..
But not even no ship will stay on the sea forever and by..”
So I feel like I am the sea and all my friends have passed me by..
But I am still searching for that honest one.. Careering,,,
To be my friend for until deaths do us apart..!
Dilu D Wijegunasekara
19th of august 2019
Categories:
careering, best friend, care, cry,
Form:
Free verse
Each is a piece, a small part
of a composite that has come
together in a morning,
the frayed strands of dreams
knitted into a waking timed now
to a slow tread on a familiar street.
Then suddenly, careering through
the center of my thoughts a train
comes with bells at a crossing
clanging loudly and wheels grinding
on rails heading off towards
a distant point in the past. I stop
and see myself, late teens,
leaving home, riding the interstate
with dreams spilling out
of a duffle bag, head in a cloud
of hope. I was Rimbaud on rails,
high on poetry that I took straight.
Six months in a one room flat
I ran out of money and a literary career,
hitchhiked back home to sink
into a wintery despair.
A lifetime has passed
and I have left a poem tied
to the end of each year as if
marking my way. The words
of most have now weathered away
to a silence. I write as a form
of prayer to that greater silence
and on still mornings, hear
the sound of a train in the far
distance growing quieter.
Categories:
careering, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
I have an awful memory. It's sad.
Seemingly destroyed by that madman
Who, sixty-one years ago, pulled out
Without looking,and crashed into my car
Sending mine careering towards death.
Ha! I've got news for him, wherever,
I survived!
But you robbed me of some dreams!
Dreams that, like all memories, are passive
And cannot be completely lived again.
But it is the words... sixty-one years !
Who would have thought there'd be so many?
Amongst them, through the gaps pervading,
Are gems: Memories to be grateful for.
The tin box of silver thrupences
I hid beneath a floorboard in 1952!
Did anyone find it? Or did they rain
Down upon heads of demolition men
Like angel's tears at all destruction:
At things that should have aged and died
Naturally, in the most usual and intended way.
Gone tomorrow but here today.
© Allen Ansell 2024
Categories:
careering, england, history, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Careering headlong through an era of his mind
he needs to revisit his vision of that time
forgetting life there could often be a grind,
careering headlong through an era of his mind
where folk would not comprehend some oh so blind
that criminals were not alone committing crime,
careering headlong through an era of his mind
he needs to revisit his vision of that time.
© Harry J horsman 2018
Categories:
careering, angst,
Form:
Triolet
I stand solo, aloof in the snow, a precipitation
of words cascading from a nebulous eye
Fathoms wide, forever dripping like wax onto
a punctured paper serving a Sanskrit sky,
and spreading into sibilant sentences swiftly
sliding from syllable sorcery to soulful serenades
so silent in the shunting shout of white. Poetry
fills a churning void where novels cannot wade,
Phrases solidifying into idolisation of emotion
itself, isolation of the isometric individuality that so
Crushes my keeling cavern of thought, ever
careering from caustic career path to another new low,
Which so seems to crumble into crazy paving’s
counterpart. In this first freeze-frame we can all grasp
A fraction of the familiar, oh so fractured by the
fumbling nature of enforced form. Freed by the gasp
Of a photo-opportunity glowing phosphorescent
with firsts, I am no longer framed by the festering
Constraints of non-fiction, and folding my fond
farewells carefully, I hesitantly face a vision pestering
Me, fearing the fiend that would open maw and
gnaw beneath my feet, evoking an avalanche of the
Vernacular, but I am further past this unfed
existence now, loosened from the fickle friendship of a
Winter thaw. Focus not your gaze on the grinding
gauze of the greats, for the pressing pestilence of
Perishable poetry is elsewhere pondering its parallels
in posturing and post-modern pining for forlorn love.
Praise no other; I am poetry.
Categories:
careering, dedication, devotion, dream, hope,
Form:
Bio
There was a time
I thought
the world and me
to be
too grown up for strong emotions.
I scorned all thoughts to do with love,
and, embarrassed, blinked back tears
at children singing Silent Night.
But then,
by chance,
you came along.
You, a woman who,
for some reason, perhaps induced in part
by my own advancing years,
inspired a lust for honesty that had me,
hard and safe and certain me,
careering down love’s alpine road
in that fearless angel gear
the grandest lives are lived in.
You loosed forgotten feelings
long lost and buried
beneath the life I’d lived.
Revived now by the tremble in my chest
of breath inhaled from near your kiss
and unashamed when tears well up
at innocence of children’s choirs,
I have been made by you a man
far better than the one you found.
Then why, for basking in your love's warmth
carefully, caringly, passionately given,
love I could never properly return,
do you still gift to me
your scones with jam and cream?
Categories:
careering, love,
Form:
Free verse
I step up
the open door awaits
sights appear in front
canvassed blue is what I see..
Into it .. I jump..
and drop
spearing
spiraling
careering
head first
into the unknown
trekking down
at blistering speeds
Where I wake up..
and spread my arms,
birthing wings
with sturdy legs
as my quest begins
and I am full of wonder..
for the moment comes,
the clock ticks,
and like a bird,
I begin to fly.
Categories:
careering, angel, bird, flying,
Form:
Free verse
No antihistamine can
unblock the lifetime
accumulation of stoppered emotional gunk
zapping, undermining, and polluting *****
mine early life in retrospective avast flunk
stripped mined wasteland qua sinkhole,
where eternal reverberations soundlessly plunk
inescapable deafening, and
blinding this targeted
"scapegoat" bullied by most every punk
wrathful verbal sucker punches,
whereby yours truly habitually shrunk
within himself, yet self actualization
predates how severe
introvertedness doth debunk
the penultimate prevalence that mean kids,
albeit cruel, fiendish, incriminating
ganged accomplices further sunk
this then boy careering
into an abysmal funk
crashing into bajillion pieces
with soundless silent thunk
pitching mental health
(actually entire self)
analogous to comatose
state losing a chunk
of vital growing up years,
when upon reluctant
commencement into early adulthood
debilitating chafing
against self destructive
(mailer daemon) nemesis did brood
apathetic degree of functionality crude
delivering punishing perception,
now this older dude
writhes with lament oft times exude
ding self hatred, especially during
critical years, I denied myself food
never reconciling how affliction
cost development good
and plenti stunted development,
when scythe ying grim reaper donning
trademark black hood
dee metaphorically pinned toothpick
lovely bag of bones fragile as breadstick
easily crushed by madding publick
crowdsource, that slip of a cowlick
my excruciating body electric
demolished with figurative flick
of wrist now shutters hermetic
vacuum sealed "prison" brick
an invincible fortified bailiwick
walled in invisible steely fortress
hardest and most resilient mucous thick
against any wrecking ball.
Categories:
careering, abuse, analogy, anti bullying,
Form:
Personification
Armageddon wold be an amazing boon
to accompany ourselves amidst others in rubble strewn cocoon
or perchance an arid extra dry spell blows humungous dune
donning any brave soul to weather
fierce-some dust bowl appearing like a ghoulish goon
vis a vis via global sand man disallowing any inhabitant 2b immune
whereat autumnal days will mimic those analogous to tropical June
day where nary a species of flora nor fauna,
which latter muffled cry viz Claire de lune
barely heard above the blindingly pitched
(scoring major lunar home run) when earth's moon
appeared to be batted, snatched, and whacked -
piñata like casting darkness at high noon
this out of other worldly debacle
(viz: a scene of apocalyptic, cosmic and epic rune
from twilight zone re: outer limits offsetting
sole millennial Gaia satellite believed rigged forever) -
which end of planetary status quo came soon
er than expected, accompanied by Gustav Holst eponymous tune
once Luna rung seismically, titanic ally uprooted, violently wrenched
prior to crash landing at ground zero rocked and rolled out of orbitz
before careering, and screaming thru the atmosphere
analogous to a near full term baby in utero yanked out of womb.
though the above dynamic gigantic jack-knifed
nihilistic quantum spectacular universal wreckage
sans the inner sphere of solar system
(known to mankind, when said creature, an outlier)
whence even amidst the early
bipedal hominids that throve a sage
no event (whether natural or caused by human error),
would compare neither cap cha, when are bit rage
emasculated, and wrought onto the terrestrial firmament
no way to measure nor gauge
the depth, length, and scope of total and
absolute value eradicating any trace of simian equipage
reducing the arrogant, conceited, ego-maniacal, dotage
boot far-fetched science fiction phenomena would
witness civilization captive in their own technological cage!
Categories:
careering, allusion, angst, conflict, grave,
Form:
A catastrophic collision
Caused by two careering cars
Created chaos on the causeway
Crumpling chrome and carbon parts
The chime of crunching metal
The clash of clanging swords
The scream of screeching rubber
Echoed through the mountains gorge
Two opposing forces
Starting distance equal breadth
Sped head long into the canyon
Meeting chaos causing death
Categories:
careering, car, conflict, power,
Form:
Rhyme
Incomprehensible space/time continuum intrigues...
One insignificant, infinitesimal
incomprehensibleness cosmic speck,
who doth readily confess
swallowed within
infinite cosmic wormhole, nonetheless,
he feels mind boggled, fascinated,
transfixed... helpless to express
following concept suddenly
gripping his feeble mental compass.
I haint never gonna get
smart enough to understand
supposedly how universe
under contract to expand
subscribers embracing divine
intervention ascribe to invisible hand
cosmographical phenomena defies
garden variety *****sapien
understanding schema so grand
feeble analogy whereby
Neanderthal apt to understand
lingual mechanics predicated
I grammatically, markedly, pointedly...
exclaim with ampersand.
No particular reason nor rhyme
prompted contemplation
Einsteinian/ Stephen
Hawking concepts sublime
defy one average guy
way past his prime
ideal, optimal, universal... time
to fortify i.e. cognitive ability
brewing, immersing, steeping... gray matter
within astrophysicist clime,
now punishing ignorance mime
limited aptitude climb
stymied best taught during childhood
undoubtedly education pioneer - Haim
Ginott speculate would even
advocate buzzfeeding fetus
with intelligent boosting enzyme.
I chomp at the metaphorical bridled bit
and chafe not being genius like Trump pit
ing president (gag me with a spoon),
and lemme don pith helm mitt
this crash test dummy, whit
no shadow of doubt ready to quit
human race if said nitwit
nabs 20/20 election twit
tilling, spindling, mutilating,
fondling... constitutional sacred writ
issuing dynastic emperor gambit
hastening cremated ashes (mine)
launched into distant orbit
bajillion light years
careering, hopscotching, zipping
eventually reincarnated into runny Babbit
ironically enslaved for profit
blindly obedient dagnabbit,
indentured as intergalactic caddy
fired while under probation as apprentice
up Paul ling lee forced to exit
Sartre's stage door left sporting
embarrassing MAGA prison outfit
hustled away courtesy
as laughingstock exhibit.
Thus, I helm ship of state into black void
alone within cosmos, yes...overjoyed!
Categories:
careering, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Elegy
These walls are gathering together, closing with damp farewell embraces.
The yawns of previous occupants echo through linoleum: my home of all places.
Visitors come and go, footprints on concrete pathways smoothed over by later settlers.
Redecorating the past has never been so easy! The wind carries whispers of meddlers
But that’s easily solved; double glazing for the coming winter of discontent.
Yet still no snow falls for these ghosts. The fireplace has changed; it’s been bent,
Replastered and stoked and ready for the fuel of future memories not yet made.
Still the ceilings creak inwards, the weight of countless children who played
By careering down hallways; Old clocks ticking. Shop-bought curtains are drawn
On the sunsets of men, forgotten are we all in the flick of a signature pen,
Contracted to paint another’s elapsed timeframe. Perhaps a new extension, dear?
Categories:
careering, allegory, angst, home, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
It really is quite tiring, lying in the sun,
looking out for danger, protecting everyone,
All the time pretending that I don't even care
I'm sniffing out the undergrowth, to see what's lurking there,
Chasing after next door's cat can be extremely funny,
but I much prefer to find a patch of warm grass when it's sunny,
I sleep with one eye open, I am constantly on guard,
while noisy human puppies go careering round the yard,
Sometimes I'll do a trick or two, to keep my humans happy,
but when it comes to dinner time they better make it snappy!
I know it's just a dogs life, but I say, without conceit,
there's more to being man's best friend than to play or sleep or eat!
Categories:
careering, animalssleep, time,
Form:
Couplet
Airliner in the storm is not doing well
Pilot is having difficulty keeping it in the air
Tossing and turning, careering with each stormy swell
Stewardess do not tip us off, issuing us all kinds of care
Each one squelching their own internal light for our sake
My eyes are fixated on the dark clouds that appear with a glare
747 gives a quiver, a drop, and at last a shiver and shake.
Sky marshal holds onto the seat until his knuckles are white
There is a loud boom that sounds like an earthquake.
I wonder if we will make it safely or be a plane crash sight.
Others are praying, phones put away, rosary beads on their laps
I swear I see a halo around an old lady’s head and it is bright.
Suddenly there is a clap, no a series of loud angry claps.
In succession, bam, bang, bam, bang, bam, bang, bam.
The plane begins a descent and we all hear familiar flaps.
Thunder envelops us in series of freezing cold wraps
Airliner in the storm is not doing well
Others are praying, phones put away, rosary beads on their laps
Tossing and turning, careering with each stormy swell
Inklings Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Categories:
careering, storm,
Form:
Terzanelle