Best Disposed Poems
Mementos in a box, from years gone by
Thought to have been disposed of long ago
A glance, when something purple caught my eye
A ribbon from someone I used to know
I gently gave a tug like way back when
It slipped from it's confines just like before
Then instantly relived it all again
And just like her, it leaves me wanting more
But even though it was so delicate
This ribbon in it's femininity
Tied in her hair it looked so elegant
Yet strong enough to bind her memory
This ribbon with it's strength beyond compare
Ties fifty years to my first love affair
By Daniel Turner
The fear
In here ..
The chair
"Don't care "..
Sore gum
Lip numb..
" MUST DRILL
THEN FILL " ..
" Less speed
I'll bleed " ..
Preserve
Your nerve ..
"I've bled"
Jaw dead ..
" RINSE PLEASE"
Weak knees ..
The bill
Plus pill ..
Can't eat
No teeth ..
Unchewed
Soft food ..
Can't talk
Slow walk
Perchance
Soiled pants ?..
Mistake
Toothache !!.....
footle-note ..
The author would like to confirm that no deaths occured , during the creation of this piece. All
suffering was kept to a minimum,as the surgery was sound-proofed .Pain and suffering ,
caused to waiting patients , was due to being forced to read 3yr old mags. Seemingly the
news was less dire back then.All enamel&blood stained swabs were dumped in the
appropriate utensils,as per Geneva Convention(section ix, site xxxiv).The cleansing of soiled
underwear took place ,under supervision, with enviroment friendly detrgents & all offending
materials disposed of , in accordance with the KyotoAgreement(section mlx11).
Must dash !! , as I have to visit that other sadist, the vet ,with our cat.He is due for the snips!
( the cat , not the vet ).. Here Tom..Pshhhwshhh ..
Am l now simply forgotten
Just like that
No longer needed or required
Disposed of , though still intact
So many years and time given
At a drop of a hat
Am l now simply forgotten
Just like that
Help me burn this skin
I can’t believe all the hollow lies I’ve burnt in
It’s as if there’s a special place in hell
For the sins that I have held
I’ve betrayed the innocence of what I used to be
It’s so funny to realize how perspective changes everything
We keep lying to ourselves and blame it on anything, on anything
Feeding off of drama like a parasite feeds on blood of death
We kill ourselves from the inside just to be like the rest
Help me burn this skin
I can’t believe all the hollow lies I’ve burnt in
It’s as if there’s a special place in hell
For the sins that I have held
I’ve betrayed the innocence of what I used to be
Men use love just to get sexual pleasure
Degrading beauty, we slowly lose our treasure
Women giving themselves away to be loved
Yet they still get disposed of
God, what have we done
Please take us back to where we begun
Help me burn this skin
I can’t believe all the hollow lies I’ve burnt in
It’s as if there’s a special place in hell
For the sins that I have held
I’ve betrayed the innocence of what I used to be
God, I’m screaming out for you
In a world of pain, I thirst for truth
I beg for more, for more than this
I’ve lived life in the worst abyss
I need my Father’s embrace
I need to be saved by grace
Of PAN and MAN
Beyond the hedgerow bright with bloom of May
Our daily lives move on with purpose strong
From where the thrush and warbler sing the day
Soft hum of traffic, plays a different song
The tawny herd lies sleepy-eyed in sun
On lush green mead oblivious to where
The cars, the trucks and buses onward run
With each disposed by one of nature’s heirs
Along the roadside verges, now revealed
In rainbow hues, wild flowers exquisite face
Uncaring road’s dismissal unconcealed
Though passers glance admiring of their grace
To count less the works of man than of Pan, some are fain
Let us bless them all and embrace as our whole domain
Striving for Political Correctness
By Elton Camp
It would just be the end
If by words we do offend.
There’s the devil to be paid
If we call a spade a spade.
“Vertically challenged” means short.
“Horizontally challenged,” a fat sort.
“Nondiscretionary fragrance” means we stink.
“Living impaired” means your’re dead I think.
“Cerebrally challenged” and you are plain dumb.
“Hispanic” and it is Mexico that you come from.
“Niceness deprived” tells that you are mean.
As “oppressor-to-be” a young boy can be seen.
“Follicularly challenged” guys really are bald.
“Gay” is what males who hump men are called.
The “residentially flexible” will live out on the street.
“Nontraditional success” and a poor man you meet.
“Economically maximized” describes one rich.
“Economically marginalized” do live in a ditch.
“Visually challenged” is the blind guy you see.
“Reality challenged” people are crazy as can be.
“Locationally challenged” folks are those lost.
“Unjust self-esteem reduction” criticism’s cost.
A “maintenance portal” is the name for a manhole.
While “sexually dysfunctional” is a perverted soul.
The garbage collector is a “sanitation engineer.”
“Petroleum transfer specialist” pumps gas I fear.
The “termination specialist” other people does kill.
“Body entrepreneur” describes a prostitute if you will.
“Factually unencumbered” are the ignorant folk.
“Alternative answer” means an error was spoke.
If lazy, then we aren’t “motivationally disposed.”
“Discretionary fragrance” and perfume is nosed.
The “chronologically gifted” are just old.
“Rustically inclined” is redneck I’m told.
“Vertically gifted” people describes those who are tall.
“Client of the correctional system” a prisoner we call.
“Cerebrally gifted” people are those who are smart.
Be “metabolically challenged,” and dead thou art.
“Nonwaged” and it is a job you do lack.
“Amorally gifted” and a crook you track.
“Knowledge conveyor” speaks of the teacher.
“Personality repressor” describes the preacher.
With a “conceptual conflict” you are not sure.
The “under-alert” just some sleep will cure.
Now we are expected to play the “correctness” game.
Which means we call almost nothing by its true name.
In keeping with that, you see,
This poem is correct as can be.
I will not allow madness
Nor will I allow anesthesia
This place will end up in a mess
You won`t be affected by amnesia
As you will never forget this life-changing experience
Learn from your errors, that's just common sense
Whosoever sows the wind shall reap the whirlwind
You shall not forget to all who you have sinned
For you won't leave the extend of my madness with coma
Take for granted you'll be altered by trauma
You`ll be judged for each of your sins
Your corpse will be disposed in several bins
You are just a puppet
Used for entertainment
You can do infinite wishes
You will not leave this place with just a couple stitches
A glacier like a cowboy sat
Upon the foothills. And just like that
The climate changed from hope
To glad. And just like that a bar of soap
Was drawn from the rhinestone-clad holster.
With pink and orange stones it did stir
The emotions pride and reverence
But didn’t make sense
With its raven claw and bunny paw.
That type of injustice should be against the law.
To bathe with soap upon the skin
With water warm and a glass of gin,
Made cold with glacial ice, those are nice
Experiences to have. And then to roll the dice
Into the saloon and pollute the soul
With games of chance. Such a toll
Does pleasure take upon the Puritan
[for those believers, anyway]. A ban
Would ameliorate, if self-imposed.
Unfeeling cowboys are never so disposed.
You wiped me out
The day
I was exhaled by that indigo storm.-
You stared at me with
Disapproval,
A frown sown to your forehead
As I lay on your fingertips.
Like dust in a dark old attic,
You disposed of me
To spring clean your life.
A soul weeps in flesh for the pain I left behind.
I am sorry for the pain,the tears, I left for you to bear.
These healing words I send with a bumble bee to heal a bleeding rose.
These napkin like words I pray can wipe your tears and snotty nose.
I was young and naive,I cherished my pride instead of your heart .
There the coldest winter did start.
If it makes you happy I disposed of the mistress.
Who faded in long lost memory of shadowed kisses.
No,no,no I am sorry for writing that,
its a poets bold habit of honesty,
but in writing this I thought i should be honest and honest I shall be.I apologize for leaving your emotions suppressed,unknown and ostracized.
Yes, I know the ocean swollen with your tears,the angels descended on a bloody battle field to hear your cry.I hope you can summons them again and reconsider the report to the almighty farther.
If I could write this apology in the eye of the sky I would,for my remorse to be seen , a once foolish human being .Your heart I didn't mean to decay. I apologize for the lies, cries,for making you eat sadly all those ice creams and soggy apple pies,from absorbing tears fallen from yours eyes. Left to wonder in the vastness of the universe alone. I am sorry also sorry for the smudged ink and some of the lines. I cried along with them, imaging your painful times.
Yours truly Elliott Bowe
To:Simone Descartes
8/8/17
Before work burned something potent
Then checked a trap inside was a dead rodent
It got disposed quick
No coffin, tombstone or roses
Realize it won't always be harmonious
Sometimes it may be odious
Here is my notion and diagnosis
I've got to own it
And enjoy the moment
Not worried about any opponent
Just keeping focus
Ready to take care of the onus
Realizing I will and won't earn an occasional bonus
Do you believe in totems or omens?
Can you relate to any of my poems?
Better get on it while the door opens
Before it closes
Above and below the oceans
The universe in constant motion
A near endless amount of slogans
Some of which are rather bogus
It's wise to have devotion
Staying consistent, working hard toward a promotion
Once, inquisitors would torture a witch
and strip her naked down to the last stitch.
And fear in the people reached fever pitch
encouraged by the clergy and the rich.
It's like scratching that unreachable itch
crushing skulls of succubus that bewitch.
And procuring an informant or snitch
the church used faith as a means to enrich.
Burnt alive or hug, so's to watch them twitch
practiced for centuries with naught a glitch.
Finally, attitudes began to switch
and today, witches fill an occult niche.
With a witch, an itch, a glitch, and a twitch,
the war on women runs without a hitch.
Subjugated women are labeled B*tch
raped murdered and disposed of in a ditch.
(Monorhyme)
10/24/2019
Itch, witch, glitch or twitch Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
So thoughtfully busily going to the tomb
Were you enamored with words from the womb
Verbally gurgling did you succumb
Or did it come later in life
Likened to lightning spelling you under
Suddenly there before hearing the thunder
Rapidly vapidly words in your head
Were ringing and clamoring yet to be said
At work in your garden editing hedge
Trimming unwanted excess
It smacks of sedition this growing ambition
To put plants in orderly rowed inhibition
Sun reaching in silent distress
The beauty of discipline held up to view
In close captivated submission
In ranks and in rows uniformly disposed
Earthbound and holding attention
Yet openly Stubbornly free
They continue to grow.
To Flander's field poppies
And crosses akin
They are harvests of memory to reap
Promises planted to keep
Ash Wednesday
Ash Wednesday, the day to confess and repent
As we enter the solemn season of Lent
The ashes remind us that "Dust thou art"
And one day from this world we will depart.
Worldwide, the faithful honor this tradition
With devotional hearts and sincere contrition
But, sadly, some people are not so disposed
To "Love thy neighbor" their hearts are closed.
Thus, the Russian leader is attacking Ukraine
Causing destruction and inflicting pain
Amidst the bombings and rocket flashes
Businesses and dwellings are reduced to ashes.
Today sacred ashes we wear on our forehead
But whose soul will bear the ashes of the dead?
The guilt of this burden to the tyrant is given
In the eternity to come can he ever be shriven?
Molly Moore
I‘ll confess to a cold blooded murder
I’ve gone down that deep dark path
But I simply had no other alternative
With an intruder lurking in my bath
I had shouted out to my husband
But that action was no darn use
He’d popped out to the local shop
To get us much needed cow juice
The trespasser was so evil looking
With eight legs and eight beady eyes
I tried to scoop it with a damp flannel
These house breakers I really despise
The intruder planned his escape
With eight legs oh boy he could run
He hovered over the plug hole
This interloper had had his fun
So I flushed him right down the plughole
I’ve never committed murder before
I’d hurriedly disposed of his body
When I heard hubby’s key in the door
I immediately confessed to a murder
and my hubby dashed to the crime scene
But there hiding under the plug hole
was a spider that looked really clean!
So my dastardly deed had a happy ending
and a day in the court I won’t be attending!
Favourite poem from June 2018 contest
Sponsored by broken wings aka dear heart
6/7/18