Best Hitherto Poems
I feel I have appendicitis,
Or a bad case of bursitis,
And I think I need another tonsillectomy.
I'm sure I got a staph infection
From a tetanus injection
While I was prepping for a hemorrhoidectomy.
I've got cataracts and shingles,
When I cough my kidney jingles,
And my muscle tone's diminished due to entropy.
I have a lower disc displacement,
I need a knee and hip replacement,
And I'm scheduled for my umpteenth colonoscopy.
With my doctor's full compliance,
I will donate my corpse to science
To see if reasons can be found for all my maladies.
No doubt that when they disconnect me,
Vivisect me and inspect me,
They'll find a host of medical irregularities,
As well as hitherto unheard of abnormalities
That may account for part or all of my infirmities,
And might help to explain my PCP's enormous fees.
Author's note: After reading Ilene Bauer's delightfully insightful "A Certain Age", once again I delved into my archives and disinterred this bit of nonsense from 2017. I apologize, dear readers, if any of you who might be suffering from medical conditions find it insensitive. It is certainly not intended to be so. Although I don't think it's been scientifically tested or doctor recommended, I firmly believe in the homeopathically therapeutic value of humor and laughter. And I know that after writing this piece, I felt better about my own health issues.
A surly old maid
had an urge to be laid
and bemoaned her virginal status
with life discontented
her plight she lamented:
"'tis not easy to live without coitus."
A scheme she invented
got polished and scented
tweaked her pointers to swing more voluptuous
with a rose-scented blanket
and aphrodisiac banquet
whisked her beau to the beach to be fructuous
Clad in scant mini
whence peeked her bikini
bent on bidding her cherry adieu
purred words mildly profane
wined him champagne
dined him fare with venereal value
To hone his libido
entrèed on baked avo
oysters, scallops and honey-glazed almond
lips enticingly luscious
sucked asparagus
sneaked a look if what matters had hardened
As was he, she became cocky:
ogled what was now stocky
with no inhibition she fussed and she flirted
our virgin opened her mouth
with one hand down south
loosened a knot and lay there unskirted
Decidedly heady
her lover was ready
to pick her rosebud unsoiled hitherto
her lush lips he fingered
where he lovingly lingered
to prepare for their kissing debut
With a bolt sat upright
said, his voice somewhat tight:
"Your mouth is a pit of infection.
I swear I was keen
but your mouth lacks hygiene
foul breath made me lose my ********."
The azure ocean, home to the embedded enormous incomprehensible riches of mysteries and riddles,
More than the Mars, lies unfathomed, underneath the conundrum of oceanic colossal rhythms.
From the The Milky Sea Phenomenon, a sight captured as bioluminescence illusion,
The Purple Orb of the ocean floor of California and the Baltic Sea’s anomalous puzzles,
Like the alien spaceship put foot on the colossal quagmires of oceanic chasm!
When the underwater volcanoes erupt to perplex beyond imagination in huddle,
To probe and discern those gems of oyster shell’s luminous pearls dazzles,
Deep beneath sleeping peacefully in the ocean’s cradle!
The fatal enigma of the unplumbed immensely profound oceanic mysteries will never dwindle.
The more one plunges to pierce in deep muse its vastness engulfs to diddle!
The superficial waves in corrugation, are mere widening its hitherto horizontal hurdles.
The bizarre sounds emanating from beneath are like giant icebergs scraping the oceanic floor in madly rhythm!
The obscure oceanic realms, its myriads mystical appearances remains timeless, fancy of millions!
Eras and eras pass, the mythical mermaid’s riddle are yet to resolve,
As centuries pass, may replete with the witness of numerous human civilizations!
Like the Atlantis of Japan, from time immemorial, the oceans are abodes of colossal confusions.
The voyages disappear in the Mystic Triangle, who knows what lies beneath the mythical abstractions?
The twirling sounds of infinite ocean swirling in the sea shells are quite captivating, attract admirers attractions;
The archipelago one after the other vanished without the trace, as in Marina Trench’s aberrations;
As if the Phantom Islet of Bermeja, in its murky abyssal cradle’s magnetic composition.
The Crop Circles discovered beneath its bosom as if the signage of other world’s manifestations;
The oceanic phenomenon of green flashes meets the red tides, reveals your magnificent disposition.
Wants to plunge, swim like a mermaid in your mystical cerulean temporal lilting motion;
Oh, the oceanic conundrum more we try to fathom, the more we entangle in your cryptic chasm!
© Silpika Kalita
Homes so recently abandoned
for Sunday swims and picnics
have become indoor respites
from the restless chill of change.
Secure, still days have vanished,
with hazy meadows humming.
Fireflies have met their end,
replaced with jack-o'-lanterns.
Now forewarning breezes,
stealthy, crisp, and vibrant,
pierce preoccupations,
uncovering reckless impulses.
Now uncanny images,
voices of chance and charm,
bide their ghostly time
to tease mortals hitherto content.
Darts and dashes of circumstance,
figures of flitting moments,
are creatures mysteriously born,
skipping towards certain death.
So what, if the end is approaching;
the witches' brew is bubbling--
the whispers of all moans and laughs,
the collage of dreams and desires.
Now is the ecstasy of flinging
one's fate to the unrefined choir--
the discordant sounds and initiatives
of many spirits and springs.
Grinning gourds and goblins
bless the annual surprise--
this primal burst of forces
that refuse once more to be quenched.
With the onset of years
erstwhile crazy ideas
abandoned with caution and dread
now crowd my mind
no peace I will find
till my conscience lies neatly in shreds
Conscience, out the way
there's hell to pay
for too long I've toed the line
Ms Goody Two-Shoes
who never once boozed
longs to taste the fruit of the vine
Since exiting the womb
no breathing room
another's cousin, sister or daughter
later in life
mother and wife
now breaking free to taste the sweet water
Once meek and restrained
willingly chained
missed out on the pleasures of life
no fun to be had
not a chance at being bad
as a dutiful mother and wife
Inch by sure inch
my conscience I'll lynch
spread my wings which were hitherto clipped
down with taboos
I'll expose my tattoos
and enjoy my first skinny dip
I dream of a match
to telly dispatched
on the streak my clothes I'll abort
displaying my tattoos
and unmentionables too
and a full frontal view before caught
No doubt you'd agree
my earlier poetry
has a somewhat conservative ring
conscience, step aside
you've my freedom denied
readers, prepare for smut on a string
Though passionately aflame
this steri-clean dame
aims in the heart zone to practice due care
though my conscience'll be dead
of all life been bled
I'll draw the line at illicit affairs
A din ensued
my imaginary brood
with a good dose of misapprehension
hauled out their toys
and with a deafening noise
held band practice to demand my attention
My head resounded
I was astounded
as my voices insisted space be freed
then took up position
for a spit competition
unless their demand I would heed
"Spit all you may
I refuse to be swayed
back to your cupboard, skeleton folk
all was well hitherto
with my self-made crew
till my head friends you chose to provoke."
"Dear host, you're unfeeling
to your good sense we're appealing
repeal the bones' non grata status
or your imaginary crew
will hold a coup
assisted by our posse comitatus."
"Skeletons and friends
your logic transcends
admittedly you've much courage and clout
I'll have to engage
with our very own sage
the inimitable Shadow of Doubt.
"After due consultation
and much deliberation
Shadow and I decision had reached
you may rant; you may rave
do the Mexican wave
yet still be punished for my rules you have breached.
"The imagineries and Hubbard
to inhabit the cupboard
access to my head is forever denied
you skeletons will hoard
keep my secrets well-stored
in my head where you henceforth will reside."
There's no happy ever after
my world is now dafter
cramped, the skeletons keep knotting their chains
with more space at hand
my imaginary band
multiplied. I'm now doubly insane
***************************************
Israel had been under tyrant oppression
God sent Moses to redeem them from suppression
He promised to manifest His sign and wonder
And extend His Finger of Power over Nut, the god of thunder
Nile was like a sea of blood on the first day of the plague
The magicians were dumbfounded and vague
Nile hitherto served as Egypt National cake
Became ravaged as millions of creatures died in the lake
On day two, God brought frogs from Nile
They died and stink along the foe’s mile
Thus, Jeshurun judged Heqet of earth
The frog goddess of birth
On the third day God administered judgment on Zet
The ‘mighty’ and the dreadful, he was the god of the dessert
Magicians marveled at the miracle of Moses’ rod
And declared to Pharaoh, “This is the Finger of God”
On the fifth day God judged the goddess Hathor
She was the spirit of cattle, a violent author
He slays her cattle and plagued them with boil
Amidst it all Pharaoh’s heart was harden like a golf ball
On the seventh day, God plagued Egypt with Hail
The sky goddess Nut was attacked and jail
In all these Israel was not affected
He was miraculously covered and protected
On the ninth day Egypt was clothed in a cloak of darkness
Nevertheless Pharaoh’s heart was still heartless
But the home of the righteous was as a nimbus of radiant light
As the glory of the Lord has risen upon their plight
God judged Isis the ‘Protector’ as the first fruits were killed
In this plague was the scripture fulfilled
They overcame him (Isis) by the blood of the lamb
And by the steadfast confession of faith in ‘I AM”
Satan is a destroyer and a ‘blackmailer’
But Christ is our redeemer and our healer
What the nine plagues couldn’t do
The blood of the Lamb gave a clue
By faith he (Moses) kept the Passover and the sprinkling of the blood, lest he who destroyed the firstborn should touch them. Hebrew 11:28
You don’t know me
So why do you stare?
What are you looking for?
Who do you see?
Why make me uncomfortable
When you don’t know me
I have come from a place
Where there’s bondage and pain
Called hitherto so here’s where I’ll remain
So don’t see me as foreign, an outcast, or lost
See me as you are because I’ve paid the cost
I paid to be here and I’ve paid to be free
So don’t stare so hard because you don’t know me
My beauty is not a façade
My image is real
For it’s the image of God
And he created me with Zeal
He was excited about me
He knew all that I would do
So I ask to what degree
Does my existence bother you?
There’s offense in your eyes
This much I can see
But it’s all unnecessary
Because you don’t know me
I am not here to be seen
Nor do I come to see
So forgive me as I remind you
That you don’t know me!
I’ve told you about my now
While reflecting on my then
Where I am and where I’ve been
In all of my explaining
Of who I am and what I be
What saddens me deeply is
You still don’t know me!
"A glance at the magical hues splashed into sky at dawn
Paints a picture of hope in my mind's blank canvas" ~ quote by poet
At the southernmost tip of The Peninsular India,
where the three seas meet at the 'Triveni Sangamam',
the blue waves hum in a surge of excitement,
gurgling, tossing and tumbling,
awaiting the most spectacular moment;
Anticipating the arrival of her Prince of Charm,
the somber sky yearns for his first touch at dawn;
The mighty golden white ball ascends slowly
with his steps steady and gentle - and sees
his beloved - ravishing - and blushing in vermillion hues
immersed in waves of euphoria
as the rising sun's first ray kindles her gloomy spirit;
with a special glow in her face hitherto not seen,
the sky welcomes her beloved with a vermillion smile;
Cherished by the warmth of the sun's magical glow,
the dreamy sky displays hues of hope;
In a rhythmic ballad, the waves of the three seas
sing in chorus, their tale of love.
Note:
Triveni Sangamam - A beach at the southern tip of India in Kanyakumari, where one can witness the sangamam (meeting) of the three seas: The Bay of Bengal, The Arabian Sea, and The Indian Ocean. The sunrise at the Triveni Sangamam in Kanyakumari is a spectacular sight.
Date: 11/18/2021
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23 Poetry Contest
"V" New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
ballade (not a ballad)
This prince we see down on his knees
his wife beside him is no shrew,
Can she believe his guarantees?
He promises to say adieu
to female friend he has pursued.
He hopes it does not contradict
but wonders just how his wife knew.
Lying – the curse of addiciton.
His patient wife he tries to please
to her he swears what he will do.
Betrayal done, he now agrees,
he quits his drugs and smoking too.
And then his hardest hitherto
a habit which we could predict.
From his bottle this man withdrew,
lying – the curse of addiciton.
This prince of principalities
no more will cuss in navy blue,
and he will mind his q’s and p’s,
and he - tobacco will not chew.
He’s making so much ballyhoo
the neighbors see a derelict.
He’ll even bathe and use shampoo.
Lying – the curse of addiciton.
Yo, Prince, come on, admit what's true.
Promises cannot lick or shun
delusion's faulty point of view -
lying - the curse of addiction.
written: Dec 12, 2016
Small cobalt clouds on the horizon
As a dusty blue mist
Appears upon the top of trees
The sun gives all a pink kiss
Wondering is that the same jet
Streaking across the blue?
In the same place as yesterday
The red ball is not new
The doves, woodpecker, and red sun
Interact the same
A baying hound has something treed
No varmint has interchange
As the water sprinkler goes round
And the sun is higher
In the pine trees, life in morning
Comes alive, birds are fliers
Thank you, Father, for this new day
For the time to witness
Your creation, each second is
Different, and for your loving kindness
The sun has changed to clear light
It's illumination
Reveals the silhouettes of trees.
Soon heat will bring prostration
The poet longs for a revelation
Solutions for mankind
The only thing I see is in The Book
All man has to do is find
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: Matthew 7: 7
Hitherto have ye asked nothing in my name: ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full. John 16:24
Jeremiah 29:13 “You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.”
Deceit and duplicity, vengeance and vanity
Exploit our weaknesses and dissipate our souls’ strength
As arrogance cockroaches multiply their insanity
We diminish the strength of our faith
The more we immerse ourselves in new technologies
Stung by advances in artificial intelligence
Deluding our ignorance and bestowing empty eulogies
On partners we loathe despite pangs of conscience
That work harder to retain a semblance of humanity
In souls gone dead and mad with material wealth
Accumulated and concealed from established authority
In the mistaken belief that the theft we perpetuate in our stealth
Shan’t leave a trail auditors will pursue
In our bid to aggrandize an increasingly hollow ego
Gone insensitive and unreceptive to the moral malaise and torture that ensue
As the moral compass hitherto central to our lives we forgo
In preference for catalyzing the rat race that the vulnerable
Crush underfoot
To splurge with disgust as the horrible and the irascible
Thrive in the sight of the sycophants we recruit
As cheerleaders
With unabashed shame
In the midst of death traders and peddlers
On whom we’re not able to pin blame
Cos together we rot
In body and mind
Our consciences bought and caught
Up in webs of ego-tripping that render us morally blind and unkind.
No one knows what
The dust that floats in the daylight is
Small specks of dirt I'm told
Or bits of flowers, or skin, or mold.
I, of differing opinion, am
Concerned myself with its essence
The dust that floats in the daylight
Are naught but lit old souls
A special pair of eyes and
The dust that floats in the daylight
Can see against the shine
Memories, pain, laughter and wine.
Hitherto unknown
True tales dance and silent din
The dust that floats in the daylight
Is the great work of our kind.
Form:
News of our examination results cheered us
Long wait we accommodated
Anticipation tinged with fuss
As anxiety our minds intimidated
Speculated
Doubting the truth
Anxiety accumulated
Sometimes sliding us South
Beside a destination to dreamland
Expecting the best
Assuming a TCZ brand
For a while could rest
Till to our disbelief
News filtered catching us unawares
Scratching on our heads the consternation kerchief
Whose fares, flares and glares
Became insignificant because with joy our hearts leapt
As reality pricked the doubt
That crept and swept
Bulk of the clout
Hitherto intact
Briefly shaken
To impact
Brethren without a reason crestfallen
Until facts filtered and altered
Scenarios where doubt dwelt
When facts our self esteem flattered
As collection of result transcript became reality well spelt.
.
I saw her's at the
distance
I tried the whistle
It flew out like
tweety bird's
caught by sylvester
featherz and
all
hern soon
oke
choked
Hitherto
i whistle not
at fine
hers'
her's
lets lips
mine
not
*i ofttimes spill the nouns (the)hers
:>shemales; i meant, females..(did so ')
(the)shes
therefore I explicate and may the poetic astute
accept mine artistic license :) hers: females... 'period'
shes: the feminine plural ;) oh stop ,)
edvard'z lisp and *sensitive feel> (fem~i~nine)
^:uh wight guy ') her's: possessive
* oke^ hern: belongs to her e.g. her's, in the broader sence; 'twuz her decision I.e; the poet, can say "her breast were in mine maws", yet, wus it her decision that her breast were there(the 'terse' poet would need to explicate, cramming hiz lisp with unnecessary werdz)..but, if the poet (i exspecially)exclaimed; "hern" breast were in mine maws", hiz readerz intuitively would know, that 'she gave' her breast up willingly(her decide). If the poet exclaimed; "hern pussie wuz pink"
^('she' lets poet see it's
pink
etc.)
i pray there be shes reserving sum hern for mine
indulge....words...that's what i well i tried to meant ')