Best Ditches Poems
It stands on a hill overlooking the bay drenched in ocean spray
That cedar shake house where I used to live high above the Fundy bay
A well trodden path leads from its door on to a winding road
Flanked by ditches where Morning Glories and Sea Salt roses grow
That winding road comes to an end at the shore of ‘Evermore’
A magical place where seagulls soar above the ocean’s roar
Lavender walls rise high in the sky through a veil of silver mist
Where the ocean shatters and falls in pieces against those lofty cliffs
And those footprints I pressed so long ago still lead me to this day
To that old house high on a hill overlooking the Fundy Bay
It is a place where the land bows down to kiss the misty tide
Where rolling waves bring memories of the place my heart resides
~~~
Categories:
ditches, house, ocean,
Form:
Couplet
Britches and snitches
Were out digging ditches
When out from the ground did appear
Gold that looked old
if the truth now be told
It was something someone would hold dear
A crown from the town
Just a little ways down
Perhaps it belonged to the king
With tools they found jewels
And these two were no fools
As they thought of the fortune it’d bring
They tried and they pried
Now with pressure applied
To remove the prize up from the land
A dream it would seem
As they worked as a team
So that wealth could then rest in their hand
A tug and a shrug
In the place that they dug
But the artifact still wasn’t free
A shove with a glove
The sun hot up above
Now a bundle of sweat they would be
Inspired but tired
Their strength now expired
They tossed down their shovel and hoe
Glad but not sad
And in no way now mad
They decided to let the thing go
A prize for the eyes
As they now realize
All the trouble this fortune might send
Greed they don’t need
As the two did concede
That their fortune was having a friend
Categories:
ditches, friendship, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
River’s Arising
By Michelle Waters
River’s arising. Danger’s on hand.
Gather up your kinfolk and get to high land.
The campgrounds are empty, RVs are all gone
Tourists packed up their bags and headed back home.
The storm clouds retreated for less than a day.
For on the horizon, they’re making headway.
Torrents of water and mud surge down from the ridges,
Wash out the gullys, and ravage the ditches.
The creeks are all swollen; their banks have been breached.
Winds tear through the trees, wild and unleashed.
Muck and debris cover roads and driveways.
Surplus of water sweeps cars off highways.
Weatherman's warnings- often unheeded
In times like these, good sense is needed.
Destruction continues, flood water advances.
The wise take refuge, the foolish take chances.
Those who live in the valleys will stay to repent.
Once the floodgates cut loose, there’ll be no defense.
River’s arising. Danger’s on hand.
Gather up your kinfolk and get to high land.
Categories:
ditches, environment, heartbreak, home, leaving,
Form:
Rhyme
Somedays I feel like I'm surrounded by bars and bricks
encaged on a stage in tar that sticks.
There's an agonisingly unfamiliar reflection in the mirror,
as my eyes detect an unrecognisable inferior figure.
I can't see the stars in the sky at night,
and the sun doesn't rise to provide daylight,
creating days filled with unpleasant darkness,
feeling the hate, I will for heaven sent brightness.
It would be nice to see a flicker,
a shooting star or something quicker,
as my impaired eyes see unseeingly at paradise.
It seems these days have perfected imperfection and sadness,
as though infected but immune to antidote injections that stop madness,
and the bad feel projecting out onto these days seemingly disastrous.
So I turn to alcohol and slowly increase the dose
and down the booze until I doze,
to awake with the shakes that alcohol creates,
reaching straight for the glass of straight voddy,
drowning myself down in hate toward the junkie category.
A way I find carries me through this hell that flattens me,
clouding my mind, shielding hurt that comes with thinking clarity.
Leaving me imprisoned and unable to escape this reality.
………………………………………………………………………….
Somedays I feel like I'm surrounded by bars and bricks,
so I drink water and take vitamins to get far from my minds tricks.
My mind digs up thoughts sick and twisted
from the ditches of the mental scars life inflicted.
I see a full moon but no stars in the sky at night.
There must be a faint cloud blocking that far travelled light.
Throughout the day I stay active as it distracts the gloom
and subtracts it until a world seemingly more attractive resumes.
I shrug off the booze and don't meet the thugs
that deal drugs and rise above a life for chumps.
I start these days feeling down in the dumps,
but if I live the right way I move passed the grumps.
I feel that just the moonlight moves me to comfort,
I perk as I forget today and all that work.
Tomorrow is another first,
I think life offers more than I deserve.
Categories:
ditches, dark, depression, hip hop,
Form:
Rhyme
There she was chasing a rabbit
with 1 am coffeecakes and weak tea
She didn’t notice I was watching
from the branches of an olive tree
A lone smile hidden amongst
swirling smoke rings in a foreign accent
To the gazebo she ran
with its straw grass tables
and pleated cushions in hibiscus
print fabric no one would sit on
My eyes followed her as she
darted around manicured boxwoods
and cherub statues spitting water
onto sleeping lily pads,
following the same schedule
as the other…identical
She came upon a dandelion
and asked politely, “Pardon me,
but have you seen a…”
The weed interrupted,
“Didn’t…don’t do drama dreams
dancing deliriously down
donut distracted ditches”
“That’s dumb” she replied
with a giggle and a snort
This must be her fun, I think,
trying to catch a white ball of fur,
big, then small,
then smaller still like a
thimble seeking a thread,
when now she is stopped
in her ziggy zagging tracks
by a June bug singing,
“I see, I see, in front of me
Dessert, dessert, set out for free
A chocolate pie, a chocolate pie
in menus written on the sky”
Perplexed she climbed upon its back
and flew, holding onto
red leather shoulder pads
with black dots changing shapes,
ducking winged arches that
covered the vestibule they
soared through when a sharp turn
pitched her to the opposite side…
Landing with a thud,
her new dress now soiled
between the wrinkles in time
that had ticked away
on a clock faced sun named Ray
She cried carrot tears,
orange sherbet streams
on peach tone cheeks,
marmalade miseries
and mango miscues
piddling on her patent leather shoes,
ready to give up
When it appeared, hopping happily
Jumping into her lap
and licking her face
She caressed its fur, removing
sticker burs and scratching
just the right spot, as its right rear leg
thumped with joy
Then lifting the bundled bunny
to her face, she kissed it tenderly
with wild cherry gloss lips,
or should I say…kissed me
for you see, all along, it was me
"And you thought I was nothing more than a pretty smile…"
Categories:
ditches, fantasy,
Form:
Imagism
I’m left perplexed. How vexing, how complex…
the plight of a simple man, (one’s ruin is another’s choosing) is moving and doing the least that he can, no oil changes no wedding band.
All this just to exist, just to be standing, still living, surviving this life with a pocket knife and all the time that most never venture to find before the last goodbye.
Like the return of high tide you can count on his nothing, nothing to show nothing to hide... a cowboy trailblazing the countryside.
Beethoven's eleventh symphony ?keeps the beat of this visceral epiphany.?
No piano key in record history? could serenade away the blue music that drips from the riffs in me.
How is it to be, so utterly free. No paper trail to keep folded neatly, a homeless nomadic home body taking what the rest of us are wasting, catching sickness digging ditches while we dine on delicious richness.
My intuition becomes twisted and misses the simpleness where my wisdom depicted the abyss, this before my vision was transformed by barely bearing witness to his existence.
Categories:
ditches, addiction, adventure, freedom, home,
Form:
Rhyme
They are along the edge of the woods,
in the meadow along the mighty river,
in a little crack in the drive way,
in orderly spaces in well groomed gardens.
They are in old, forgotten cemetaries,
in hedgerows along schools and shopping centers,
in ballfields, along ponds and ditches,
they popp up on cliffs, on top of windy hills,
in an old and abandoned flowerbox,
or almost empty clay pots.
They grace parking lots, the side of the highway,
they wind up mighty trees, fences and gates,
they thrive between the corn, wheat and barley,
they climb old barns, forgotten homesteads,
they spread out when left unattended,
to mark the spot a family once,
so many years ago, took pride in owning.
They are a prophet of seasons to come,
they are a splash of cheer and color,
they are visited by bees, bugs and butterflies,
they soothe us with their eternal scents,
and they always bring a smile to my face.
Categories:
ditches, happiness, nature, sea, seasonsold,
Form:
Free verse
Fire breathing, ash streaming dragons stomping,
Across the landscape are ruthlessly romping;
Clanging, banging, with metal feet shodden,
Bushes and plants slash, flowers downtrodden.
Across the landscape are ruthlessly romping;
Iron beasts with jaws and tails heavily clomping,
Bushes and plants slash, flowers downtrodden,
Until clay into red mud is smashed and sodden!
Iron beasts with jaws and tails heavily clomping,
Great ditches riven with incessant chomping,
Until clay into red mud is smashed and sodden,
These monsters make way for all things modern.
Great ditches riven with incessant chomping,
Clanging, banging, with metal feet shodden,
These monsters make way for all things modern:
Fire breathing, ash streaming dragons stomping!
Categories:
ditches, science fiction, urban,
Form:
Pantoum
Bat's fang ditches, vampiric disease needs stitches,
as carmine blood seeps, forever now she sleeps
Categories:
ditches, dark, desire,
Form:
Alexandrine
Letting go in gentle shades, to grasp the light that never fades.
We watch eachother dissappear a little more each day.
It's a gradual sence of eloquence to help us find our way.
Don't bother to erase the board that spells it out so clearly.
Just let God's grace shine on your face and hold eachother dearly.
We live within a moments glance.
And hope and pray for one last chance.
To aquire some of these worldly riches.
Without getting dirty and digging ditches.
A spark of luck's our only hope.
To answer prayer's and help us cope.
How many way's can it be said.
To appease these dreams still in my head?
We sail upon these lofty seas.
Begging for answers down on our knees.
We look up to an empty sky.
And hope for heaven when we die.
Categories:
ditches, introspection, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
Pebbles, rocks and boulders
Obstacles in our way
Over, around and upward
The measure of our day..
Puddles, streams and rivers
Bar the way ahead
Step, wade or swim
Find another path instead...
Cracks, ditches and canyons
Roadblocks to dismay
Busy building bridges
Until we're old and gray...
Twisting, turning byways
To keep us on our toes
Eyes to the horizon
How a man's life goes...
Categories:
ditches, life,
Form:
Quatrain
My Heart sees beauty daily pass me by,
And does not grieve nor stop to make lament,
For I have in my Heart a single eye,
That makes me know that all my love is spent
Upon the One whose face I carry still,
Which illness, fate and fortune cannot mar,
I see her Beauty reign when she is ill,
And my Heart’s bruises set a higher bar.
I must learn how Love tenderly caresses
The face of pain, disfigured by estate.
I must find my way up out of the ditches
And never curse, but bravely bear Heart’s fate.
For I have seen the throne of Beauty reign,
It has done so before, and will again.
January 2, 2019
Categories:
ditches, beauty, health, inspirational love,
Form:
Sonnet
With a load of worries on your shoulders
You dolefully trudge on your path of life
Evading any ditches or impeding boulders
craving for a life free of stress and strife.
But then someone cuts right in front of you
Shoves his faith in your face and his views
And wouldn't let you be even on cue,
Sadly but the pestering just continues.
And for the fact, since the beginning of time
Priests and politicians have come and gone,
Yet mankind has kept on with his crime
So why not leave politics and religion alone?
That’s when I go crazy with a machete,
Hold me tight for I can’t stand steady,
Like to shred those goons like spaghetti...
Ha, I am shuddering with rage already!
~11/08/17
~Judgmental People and Haters
contest by Brenda Chiri
Categories:
ditches, crazy, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
projecting our wanting love self
we imagine who we want
seeing our forever soul partner
fashioning them out of smoke
sagely ignoring reflective honesty mirrors
throwing ideas that do not fit
into a hot fiery furnace
ignoring the cries of reality
turning our backside to ashes
crucifying truths that don’t fit
projecting our wanting love needs
we envision an ideal life
with scoundrels who hurt us
expecting a revelation to turn
them into our prince charming
throwing away family and feelings
into wide crevices and ditches
turning our backs on screams
inside our heart that die
with unseen truths in mirrors
Categories:
ditches, love,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Most are related to shipwrecked ghosts,
accomplices of my blood
that can still be found
in geographically scattered albums.
When there were cities to occupy,
they lived one level below expectations.
Like defective fireworks, some went off early.
A more dedicated few grew old and medicated.
They built defunct railroads and dug ditches
they later fell into.
They were navigators of small shady schemes.
Their brief settlements and abrupt departures
left fuzzy lines on blacktops and concrete.
As a family, we are estranged and unknown,
but we do speak to our dead
if they come to call, of course
only after a respectable period
of life-long disinterest.
Categories:
ditches, poetry,
Form:
Free verse