Best Compacted Poems
A chambermaid whose name is Marlia
Had the most terrible diarrhoea
Whilst scrubbing a loo
She needed to pooh
Poop flowed freely from her posterior
It splattered on the newly scrubbed door
Gloopy poop was all over the floor
There was a huge mess
It covered her dress
Her poor tummy was ever so sore
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Marlia was filled with sorrow
A clean dress she had to borrow
flies were attracted
The mess compacted
clean up required a harrow!
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
If only she'd have taken a Tums
No mess would be left on her bums
she's still in despair
a stench in the air
To the scent of poop she succumbs
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
Marlia was dumb, thinking it was just gas
But it was much more that she had to pass
The day was torrid
Her stench was horrid
Now everyone knows Marlia has no class
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Marlia tried hard to sneak out
the trail of her poop left no doubt
Lysol was sprayed,
Her funk still stayed
cause her poop kept running out
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Poor, poor Marlia stunk up the room
Her hubby left and she has no groom
He ran for the hills
No more night thrills,
Now she's alone and her life is doom
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
21-07-17
His hand is strafing the castellation on his trumpet, the valves moving up down up down like deranged pistons under the random machine gun fire of his fingers. Each note is a projectile that concusses the air, chases the one before it, nudges it from behind, bleeds into it, and is itself tailgated by the next one, all the way down the line in unrelenting succession, until all the distinct notes fuse, compacted into a single, furious, careening soundscape that leaves the ear always half a beat behind, struggling to catch up, out of breath, high on an overdose of heard adrenalin.
sounds supersonic
air graffitied with contrails of soaring notes
solo flight
Still they come, the notes, jostling and pouring from the bell of the trumpet glinting in the small cone of spotlight, the man’s puffed cheeks like a magician’s hat from which all kinds of disparate, crazy things - playing cards, rabbits, ribbons, doves - appear and instantly cohere into a hyperventilating sonic dream. You’re caught off guard by every note: you never heard it coming, then you hear it, and you’re snatched by it and all its brethren, and carried into the kinetic night.
ears beguiled
vibrations collide, collude, segue
harmony
Black softness nestles in his sheen so fab
as warm purrs vibrate his feline aura
Gash-like, a red neck-sash swings a gleaming
heart-shaped pendant, swaying a dangled flash.
Ebon stretches as the midnight creature
elongating his compacted frame, lithe.
Reaching, he uncurls a bounding jaguar
awake to the moon’s abracadabra
(10/31/2019: For my Halloween companion in tonight's sickle moon)
This song;
For you
It goes back to time
Of ages compacted with lime
Something like;
Aiming an arrow to the pupil of the bull’s eye
Or poaching the miniscule creatures above
It was us! Remember?
-me, you and others.
We never played the piracy game
Or threw bullets at one another on horse backs
No…!
Nor did we travel on jets and took ‘others’ lives
By our tiny manipulative bombs.
No!
We shook the world like solders marching through ‘E’vans Avenue’
-Great!
We filled and enlivened the world through the
Melodious tone of our souls
And, as firm as rock we spiced and tuned others lives
Leaving only one word from those who analytically witnessed us
-Heroines
yes, heroines
the Victorians of those gone days
-thanks for the origin of the name
my gratitude and appreciation goes to you, others and I
For
Every Eternal
Valuable
Awarding
Nest of
Sisterhood
That crowned on it the fruits of our youth
Creating, building and leaving
an Avenue of memory.
this was a dedication I wrote to my high school classmates. it was a boarding school for girls only.
Written between 2000-2003
Just the young thoughts of the young mind
A rock for you, mountain for me
Why am I defeated so easily
I put on my pants one leg at a time
That's where there lives an invisible line
Marking the difference between you and I
Explaining my crawl as you fly high
Looking down from your castle
You view me a hassle
I try and try
Excuses run dry
My race is over before it begins
Victoriously, you meet me at the end
Still pep in your step, energy to spare
A turtle minus a shell, I feel so bare
If only I could slow my train of thought
Perhaps I could achieve the life I've sought
But my wheels keep on turning
Wasted energy, I'm burning
Thinking and thinking
Steadily sinking
I start feeling better when I take a pill
Mind thinking clearer, but thinking still
When will I upgrade from thought to action
The cause comes easy, but where's the reaction
Bounteous ideas floating around
The problem, I find, is pinning one down
My mind can chisel the perfect creation
Birthed and deceased in my imagination
A woman with a brain, packed full of intellect
Mouse hovering the button, can't click select
Day in and day out
Goals die and new ones sprout
Nothing is better to excite
Than a new vision when it ignites
But then I notice how my life is compacted
And easily I become too distracted
I try solving the fraction in my mind
Soon realizing, I'm out of time
Another fresh start, I didn't see finish
Perhaps over night, I will replenish
I've realized the truth and admit how it stung
A gritty feel and bitter taste tattooed on my tongue
I'm merely a hamster, the world my wheel
Making no way, but running still
Bottle of tears is my first version of this poetic legacy series
Skeleton of tears is which the venerated versatility carries.
This might be called as a sequel of alacrity or prolongation
But best before this is a celluloid and my heart and art collaboration.
In this poem “I or me” signify tears
Tears personify her expressions and emotions
Read this and know the life legacy of tears with concentration
And finally your fur, fleece and fuzz stand erect in attention.
Tears personify, I am compacted in stars
I am compressed between hurdles and wars
I am combusted on scorches
I am confided from Ishtar torches.
Tears epitomize, eternal bone of mine is an ominous emotion.
The Sagaras; Sarpada, Satluj shaded a challenge to my dire destination.
That one eve ever the fever of cleavers cannot catch up with me.
And the damp humidity of drought could not cope up with me.
Tears embody, I float on the branches of poignant army
I flood around the builds of happiness
I reach the borders of hell-heeled layers
And I roof down the clouds to my feet and make them rain prayers
Tears swank ,When my real steel sizzled atoms of blood,
Come together to conjure a flood.
The heated ink of emotions ignites to molt the black clouds
And let me visualize in which eve shall it swounds.
Tears exemplify, my liberty leads the immense flame in the hands of torch bearer
My prodigy evokes the waves hard under visions of volcanoes
The lust of my silvered glory was inspired from the shiny heavenly threads of feudal dart.
And the symptom of my introduction will be the rise of a burning heart.
God of hostility typify: Convinced that the fever of lava can't cope up with me
And the humidity of drought can"t hope up the level with me
In such a water working poem this is the conclusion
That even the pacific evaporate when my eternal strength feel thirsty after a tear solidification.
And now the spirits incarnate, my iron lungs had oxidized with the bitter-sour chilled water
after reading it and they crackled their internal matter into ignitious crater.
And now I will come to compete with and complete the legacy BOT(Bottle of Tears)
In the new form and with new fire firmed eyes to show you the third part “Kingdom for Disarmament of Tears ”.
4/14/2016
If you were to confide in me one black, obscure night
With your unusually soft eyes on the brink of tears,
Your heart and soul compacted in the fretful thoughts of woe,
I would gladly listen, with a perceptive, distinctive, and tranquil glow
If you would but spill upon me the swelling pangs of your core,
To forget how to utter the right words to express your hurt,
To launch all fears in floods of sorrow, icing spectral fractals fly
I would hold you in my arms and free you—I would try
I would try
I would try,
To banish all ghouls that threaten your might,
To fight away the fools that envy your light
To penetrate the inner snake that in darkness does bite
In earnest blow I will let him know he is toothless in our sight
I must be strong—for you, my precious commitment
To let you down would tear my purpose away
For if it was I trapped in your enigmatic place,
You would soon hold me with determination and grace
You have freed me in your efforts, of a pain I cannot word,
You have tied your soul upon me with the strings of need and must
And in your strength I have cast out wicked shadows that do sprout
Of your love, never once will I ever again doubt
Because you always try,
And when we try together, we rectify
They chew gums in compacted face,
Cheek-bones lining made-up skin;
They belong to the golden race,
Of foaming coke and shriveled gin.
They stare at you like you were a slave,
All through your seven lives;
They do know how to behave,
But only with middle fingers five.
Rags cheap, faking overprice,
Skirts shorter than a Chekhov story;
They believe their tangled hair to be nice,
But blush at selfish flattery.
They have lips that throw sarcasm,
At their own starving selves;
They fall for their own dark chasms,
In deep thoughts when their brains delve.
The only knowledge they possess,
Is of others’ destination;
The only wisdom they impress,
Is of disconnected imagination.
I wonder how they ever pass,
In their examinations upstart;
They think their shoes are class,
But it’s their gray cells that’re apart.
Posing their hands as if they were fractured,
They proudly exhibit their flaws;
Girls with majestic gestures,
Usually come in cycle-rickshaws.
-Pin Dew (02/05/2017)
Note: This is only to show how a Burlesque is written, no offense to anybody. Also excuse if anything seems inappropriate. I ask for forgiveness beforehand.
ANCESTORS
Lady Liberty
And the Lady cries:
"Bring me your lame, maime,
Your poor, your Refugees."
Came by the Mayflower
And others like her,
The first Settlers came
from near and far;
Men, women, children,
old and young.
Bellowing sails flapping
in tempestuous winds,
People courageously sailed,
Getting wet by the rough rolling
waves,
Going to America ahoy!
From these ones a great nation
arose
Hard work and toil, felling trees,
Planting crops, shearing sheep,
raising cattle,
On large expanses of land.
Now descendants benefit,
Flying a Star-spangled Banner.
Crying out with the Lady,
"God Bless America."
(Ellis Island is where the Statue of Liberty is. I was the harborr where persons disembarked from ships to pass through Customs before entering America.)
Land Of Six Peoples
"One People, one Nation with one Destiny";
The voices of six peoples ring out!
A heritage of great repute,
Customs, traditions and cultures so rich,
The Almighty allowed six peoples to evolve!
Six peoples evolved from a
Mixture of cultures enmeshing
The diverse traditions from the diaspora,
Across many seas.
Passed down from the hands of
The Spanish, French, Dutch and British,
The country's heritage is compacted
With lusty multi-ethnic views!
Put together over time, we get -
Art, craft, dance, music sculpting, basket
-weaving and more.
When meshed, these are all showy displays
Of inner passions, interwoven by an
ancestral mix.
Food umbrellas the crave for eating -
Aloo, buns, cassava bread, curry, dahl,
Dumplng, fishcake, foo foo, greens
(vegetables),
Garlic pork,homemade bread, kanki,
Methai, roti, sweetbread, souse,
Black and white pudding.
Music itself is a fanfare for creative artistry,
In dance, theatrical shows, lyrics
and composing songs.
These echo on mountains, bellow in valleys,
and cause feet to stamp
From the Pakarimas to the Rorrhimas.
(These are the mountain ranges of Guyana. The Palarimas is where the longest One Drop Falls the world can be found.)
THE FATE OF FUTURE
A romp of childhood, descending my steep driveway, to the bus.
My urgent path lit dimly, filled with compacted snow, shoveled
with steel blades. I wearing a woolen coat, always late.
Still on time, before great big wheels grind down a country road.
Youth, with hair still damp, long and fine, shyness hides inside.
Tired teens, all around me, I watch the wipers swipe morning flurries.
The repetitive motion, bestowing comfort, like a lullaby -
before the din of crowded classrooms and impertinent teachers.
My math teacher, with a schnoz that crests Everest,
an informer of intelligent students. Less inclined
to teach her fearful ones, to shame us with a shun.
A glare of eagle spectacles, nearly scorning our dark plight.
Yet, classrooms with nouns, adjectives, verbs spur me on
to serendipitous highs. I fly with Kilmer, dip with Plath.
I lean forward as psychology and sociology take me by the arms.
I feel the fate of future, the lovely breeze has dried my hair, sublime.
9/5/2017
Non Rhyming couplets
My heart grieves for past warmth, rocking guilt back and forth
Like a cradled infant, deceased, and torn
I wailed inside and expressed what the babies could not,
Pierced so purposefully. . . their blood drizzled lightly upon the streets
Two gray kittens, side by side
One face molded into the warm body of the other
Lethal legacy
Unjust proclamation- a threat to heart sensation
This vessel of mine sunk long ago… and now,
With emotions compacted and learned, I merely nod
Before my eyes had laid upon such tragedy,
I had been suffering a loss I can no longer withhold,
And as it was so near, I see his death over and over, so clear
My best friend, lying still- half in filth, half in glory
My cries of grief, overtones to his excavating spirit
You do not belong here any longer, sweet black angel
Your soft, dreamy eyes, your lovable ears,
Replaced by unappreciated jeers
I hear them in the night as it had happened
Oblivious me, in deep sleep
Dreaming up hopes later shattered
My tears fell upon his black fur,
His keen green eyes now dead and lifeless
Feel the burn, yes feel the burn of loss, I heard him whisper
Because in this very moment, you are changing!!!
How I both cherish and hate this alteration!
How it has transformed a hopeful soul into saturated slivers of sadness
Repressing anger and fear to ensure good became of his innocence
Now it has led me to these two outcasts,
Caught by others in their cold dimensions
As much as I wish someone to suffer for their absence,
Alone, I agonize, again
Crying internally for the persecutors
This world both baffles me and excites me. Today, this world has brought me to my knees in sorrow and humility.
~Dedicated to Spy, my beloved black cat , and to the sweet stray kittens of no name found 2 days later...~
May 2013 - October 18 RIP
I feel solidified
Captured in blue-green horizon
They are eternal and faceless
My lungs; brown paper bags deflating
My milk structures are curdling
There are tiny mouths taking microscopic airs
Aerated and heavy as oxygen in a stone sphere
Gaumless and watched by black-ochre shadows circling
Compacted as mud underfoot and crushed
By reaching hands exploring my hollow flesh
Taking me further down and circles of dust
Rosaries in waterlogged,
FUTILITY TWO
Extremism
Communism
Socialism
Fascism
Bigotry
Slavery
Misogyny
All futility
Humans need to want to change their attitudes,
Tolerance taught to chicks and dudes,
Set our daily intention,
No dumb arguments for attention,
Here's a job for your 'my sons',
On every building, a roof top garden,
The future is not too far on,
Instead of guns, grow Oxygen,
Yes, a 'Silent Spring' indeed,
When we've destroyed all plants and trees,
Why not use compacted plastic for beams?
Think of your own creative solutions,
Nukes and munitions are mind pollutions,
How futile would be genocide museums,
with no one on Earth left to see 'em?
Back in my hole in the back of the den
racking up souls with every heart that I spend
Laughing at those birdies floating far far away
half in astral detentions known to scar and fillet
Compacted in thy dirt, I’m comfortable in failure
It’s only after that I’ll hurt, for during I’m the sailor
mapping out tides I’ll avoid any turn
crashing into the same bridges that I’ve already burned
Back then my den was smaller and included
facts to save myself from the loneliness precluding
any ambition to pursue the wildest dream
or any mission of love, unrealistic though they may seem
They fashioned for me a reason to keep
myself trapped wholly deep thinking I needed the key
Some intangible force to unlock my own life
Some box of remorse I deserved from that wife
Soon I’ll dig myself out from this den
I’ll reclaim my soul and fill my heart with it again
Capri
roofless cubes, spidery with wire,
cakes of azure and enzian;
above at the Villa San Michele
Rilke smiles down at the broken beaches,
at coves of defiant waves, compacted sea
Pompeii
a chessboard of honest stones
open to a sky of hushed shouts;
we huddle in a boned frame
of another life, a stopped day
Napoli
warm and secret, olive-eyed
an infinite beauty makes a new face
as we gaze ape-like from our bus;
an act of moment