Best Kilter Poems
High tide
sadness billows
swells over me in waves
massive, silent, overwhelming
melancholy ocean engulfing me
flailing, drowning in emotion
or maybe I'm being
too dramatic
only-
It feels
that dramatic-
my universe slightly
out of orbit or alignment
something strangely out-of-kilter causing
all things to be thrown off their course
too much wind and pressure
in atmosphere
storms surge
Drifting
on swift currents
rudderless, out to sea
swept toward an isolated
island, far removed from humanity
pulling me farther and farther
from the reality
of what could be
wind-tossed
Landing
on shore, lonesome
building small raft of hope
shoving off at nightfall, to sleep
buoyantly, trusting by morning I'll be
somewhere else- maybe better or
not, but different than
here- can't be worse
I think...
‘Hey stomach,’ says anus,
‘Would you cut the crap.’
“It’s not me,’ stomach says;
‘I won’t take the wrap.
It’s what they’re eating,
So blame teeth and mouth.
I’m innocent,’ says stomach,
‘For that filth down south.’
Brain has a good laugh
At organ expenses,
By prodding infighting
Over false offenses.
‘Are you kidding me,
You two dumb kidneys.
Always a teamed pair
For a fight that’s not fair!’
Roared livid liver
Who was hardly pleased,
That they blamed him
For the smelly feces.
‘Oh stop it now, liver
Just sit there and filter.
We said no such thing;
Don’t get out of kilter.’
‘Tee-he-he,’ laughs brain.
My plan’s working well,
To keep each organ
At odds over a smell,
That they have no power
To change or repair,
And since they can’t think
They’ll stay unaware.’
Hands and mouth kept
Eating junk by the hour.
Having been brainwashed,
They blindly devour.
Long ago brain trained eyes
To focus on the news,
Now it was time for all
Parts, to pay ‘their’ dues.
Bones pipe up, and say,
‘Something doesn’t feel right,
Hey muscles loosen up;
Why do you squeeze so tight?’
Muscles answer and say,
‘Colon and intestines
Are the guilty squeezers,
Causing congestion.
I’m just doing my part
At the request of the brain.’
‘But muscles,’ says bones,
‘It’s causing me pain.’
And after a while
Brain has all body parts,
At odds with themselves;
Over endless bad farts.
Organs, blood, and guts
Could not get along;
They once did their jobs
Keeping the body strong.
But brain has the answer,
‘Let’s vote on what to do.
Either I run the show,
Or you deal with bad poo!’
Yes, brain got them quibbling
And each held a grudge.
All based on false info
That made brain, ‘King Judge’.
So each part gave in
To that sneaky design,
And waited for orders
From brain to assign.
But brain was a liar
And steered organs wrong.
The body collapsed;
It didn’t take long.
Just like brain, most statesmen,
Fool us like we’re tarts.
Let’s not die for their lies,
But stay whole, not apart.
When trouble finds my place in time
I stick to rhythm meter rhyme
The planet wobbles out of kilter
Poetry is my lens reflection filter
As virus sheds its ugly eerie mask's persona
I can be stronger than corona
Isolation and reclusion are no pleasure
But ink and fountain pen retain their measure
Nothing is worse than speechless tongues
I breathe with so far uncontaminated lungs
And when the apocalypse is high and nigh
As the quill is coughing with a sigh
At least I've done my bit until the final day
I'll script depict fantasise ponder have my say
About what matters in the grander schemes
In essence love compassion dreams
Just like the covert bug has no frontier
I hold my friends and lover dear
Empathy also should not stick to a random borderline
Transcends gender race class and toughens social twine
A seasoned and rebellious maverick will not be muted
In fact narration and lock down are rather suited
8th April 2020
Sunday cockcrow nascent
aural essays reveal
laissez-faire raptures.
Enigmatic silken piece compost ushered in by
trenchant trademark tremulous signature.
Doe-eyed instrumentalist’s strident brass ensemble,
wakey wakey for the pier gazing loiterer whose blasé
sashay amble’s out of kilter.
Maverick antennae on a radio safari,
hawking hourglass heritage lodestone.
Closet Peter Pan’s astride transistor, literati goggle eyed and glued.
Silhouettes of wistful mint leaf tract,
navigating hoarse throat shellback allegory.
Earnest weekend welcome mat to madcap jester, laureate, bohemian.
Religiously the listener’s transported
from a humble tepee sanctum
to alluring levee inundation area,
far flung folly edifice,
nomad siren hymn sheet to mount Half Dome.
Long wave bounder in my dreams,
I limb skip oe’r fiction world simulcast entanglement,
snoop beneath rogallo-wing parachute in a Middle East plot,
“twin peaks” would be awestruck by this labyrinthine concourse.
One can flit invisibly round medieval black market cobblestone arcades,
ghost novelist’s ethereal penchant for pinch and pilfer retro-fit infringement.
Melting pot cinnamon dispenser, whiff stick fix antidote to kettledrum ennui
the blight of urban jungle setting and rural folklore.
Otherworld contortion with a shard of drama for magic carpet flight of fancy broadcast
Lineage derived from ancient epochs now assumed but for an inkling, icons I become with card shark sly booth legerdemain.
Maybe I’m that fictile clueless hiker, destitute, indigent
Remembering that Valentine’s
Is just an off kilter lie
And love is cruel and hateful
A salted drink splashed in your eye
Perhaps you will live your life
For no one else’s fame
Clutching for no other’s gaze
Far ways from the game
But no, you want to fall in love
Just like all the rest
Through warning friends will say to you
Alone is for the best
Gods look down and laugh at us
Like a sitcom, only real
And so they grin and snicker
And let their laugher out in peels
Hope is all we try to keep
When love just isn’t fair
There’s just no help for us you see
‘Cause Cupid doesn’t care
You read poetry for the survival that filters through its lines
Poetry that promises healing
no matter wars in distant lands
Poetry's brash cracks of hope as the planet veers
off kilter in disarray
with lines idling, a narrow gush of pleasure
Poetry with a script of heroes
that wipes away the mess of life,
earth's crowded house of frenzy
Poetry with multi layered meanings
most a fog, like digital tech updates
Poetry to sanitize the world, which it won't
Poetry to restore the thin crust of political civility,
which it doesn't
And if you're the last person to see the light,
poetry won't save you
Still your need to read poetry expands
a validation of landscapes unseen
a lighthouse in a world of complications
for sometimes verses lift your thinking
for sometimes lines breath through you.
Poem revised: May 5, 2021
Where bumbles bounce and witches fly
Faeries and jet streams in yesterday’s sky
I glance up and see an eagle so high
And I laugh at the juiciness of yesterday’s sky
They are hop skipping and flitting and fluttering too
The brownies and what-knots playing in diggery-doo.
My brain is on full delight energy mode kilter now
As I watch them spring forth with a kiss and a bow.
They give me that wink, the one I know well.
Mutter through supper, demanding yesterday’s bell.
I had forgotten the excitement of just sitting and watching.
The swish of the dragon’s tail, the water and sloshing.
It’s the dance of the bumbles, the rumbles, and more.
Dr. Seuss enters my head, running toward an old cottage door.
Library book smells come to me in drivels and drips.
It’s so much fun in the garden, with bumbles and bips.
Memories come fast, they land in my brain, screeching.
Remember the horror of reading about sucking and leeching?
Childhood gone, but the feelings are still right in there.
They come suddenly and hard, in this summer’s day air.
Written: 9-13-2019
Contest: Where Bumbles Bounce
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
An evanescent bouquet of skewed briars,
is how a tinsel laden tawdry essence wickedly unfolds ,
scuppered signpost to a fetid human compost,
faint light pendant on soul crushed quantum migrant,
who might chortle at vivid veil flimsy vacuum,
skirt recklessly around bogus symbols,
peer behind the squalid limp sodden hedge,
mock myopic moribund mist upon boundary busting dawn chimera,
sneer at synthetic spectrum elastic in its irritating tidal wave surfeit,
cerulean fabric‘s milky way escape plot,
in a perilous quest for that eternal tape loop mantra,
the synaptic heart of that vainglorious horizon,
self-knowledge under charcoal moon and silver cloud veneer,
or feral waste rapid fire contagion,
the indecisive day glow dither on the margins ,
of fly weight feeble frantic dash,
that velvet shadow treason daubed pettifog,
known as tangential wanton cobweb fester creed,
the mind a bloated ripple vortex numbing in its scope,
golden mirage but faux fur real concoction,
against the banal backdrop of complex-ridden superficial eddy,
from floral garland poseur stricken en train,
some vox pop indignation mere shrinking violet showcase waver,
the gleam-hued truth has this dastardly demonic derailment,
that I brush aside as spiteful oxalic sting repost,
that deceptive mint green forest of chameleon cant,
sly nuanced molten maple syrup hint,
from out of kilter tree pierce otherworld,
unseen yet bliss-edged virtual garden of firm conviction,
not just from isolated enigmatic individual script,
such as torrid turbulence or mindless scattered rim shot,
when conventions can be altered in exotic prose,
human zeitgeist has this far too often penchant,
for silkworm rapt effervescent double speak,
whilst plain unvarnished uplifting utterance,
resides within the deep crystal spring well,
of us torch aloft emerald earthling sages,
please augment the rock buttress stark phrase,
whose bluntness is a carrier pigeon of candor,
devoid of muted gray cloud blind waffle,
aromatic sprig to giant spasm of bold pluck,
quandary of human race at hearth,
frightened cliques, hidebound yes men who yen,
to swim the azure gulf of august freedom,
to the Eden where lucid tongues herald pristine witness.
where values at the centre of our being should blossom
With snow flaking in glass,
My full arms are frozen
To the orangelight croon off kilter,
As the streetlamp now creaks, moved
My full arms are frozen,
White lies bright,
As the streetlamp now creaks, moved
The ice is not as rabid —
White lies bright
To the orangelight croon off kilter;
The ice is not as rabid
With snow flaking in glass.
People made fun when I bought an Echo
they said it couldn’t out run a gecko.
Called it a four cylinder sewing machine
about the size of a large kidney bean.
In 01 when the gas was not as high
a manual stick I opted to buy.
I said gas will go up you wait and see
they jeered and laughed, all poking fun at me.
I pampered it with K & N filter
made sure not a thing went out of kilter.
Added a tornado to air intake
increasing mpg was piece of cake.
With windows rolled down, holding constant speed
forty-seven miles per gallon- indeed.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Life as we know it makes no sense if we have no choice
So what is the alternative and do we have a voice ?
The world is spinning out of control with violence and death all around
And the Republican presidential candidate is a racist media hogging clown
Everything is off kilter and while I sit and contemplate
What is my alternative and what will be my fate?
How do I sing songs of joy when chaos is on the rise?
How do I survive a Babylonian society and keep my eyes on God's prize?
In the midst of perversity and immoral behavior
My only alternative is to stay connected to Jesus my Savior
When I see a white man kill nine African Americans in a church
And after arrested given a bullet proof vest
Yet when an ex-military black man kills five white cops
He's blown up I feel such unrest
Over the injustice and the inequality that is occurring every day
Over 123 black men killed this year what more is there to say
What is the alternative? What is it that we need to do?
What is the alternative? As a nation we need to seek truth
I don't condone Mr. Johnson's behavior
but I understand where he's coming from
Too many young unarmed black brothers
Killed by white police guns
So what is the alternative?
What as a nation do we realize?
That racism is alive and well and killing blacks is on the rise
What is the alternative?
How do we bring about true change?
It's time for white Americans to stop acting like we're deranged
We are Americans too my people have been here over 400 years
Yes we were once slaves but let me make this clear
We are no longer your property
We are no longer your chattel
Stop killing and slaughtering my people
Like they're mindless cattle
So what is the alternative?
It's time we all develop a true relationship with God
And hopefully be infused with a Christlike love
And true compassion in out hearts
THAT IS THE ALTERNATIVE
Creepy Clown....
I despise Clowns their so NOT funny
WOULDNT waste my time or hard earned money!
Painted smiles on your fake
ugly clown face
Can't hide my aggrevation
Or my distaste
You smile behind YOUR silly painted mask
How does one "become" a clown
Or do I even want to ask?
CANT even believe your STILL on the scene
what's up with that? Its freaking 2016!
Is there some type of training or CLOWN Education?
Or they so DESPERATE threw ya into this situation?
CREEPY & WEIRD. UR THE PERFFECT combonation
Is there a background check or just useless information?
Regardless don want to be anywhere where you are
Could care less how many clowns fit in your stupid clown car
You appear to be jovial as I watch you here tonight
you don't fool me something about you ain't quite right
So You can juggle and make animal balloons
Well good for you
Get out of my face and go do whatever you clowns DO
Can't stand the site of you don't like knowing your around
You don't make me happy as a matter of fact u bring this girl down
Your evil smile so FAKE EWWWW gross!
Existence stage left FREAK u heard me ADIOS!
STUPID blank stare on ur face.. Hate that the MOST
Something off kilter with you
Perhaps not yet diagnosed
DONT speak dont care what U have to say
Go get your big floppy shoes and please be on your way!
YIU are the epitome of untalented and unfunny
Don't want anything don't want to be your little buddy
Please go now no I don't want to hear a joke
Your sugary false sweetness makes me wanna choke
Gotta get away from you and fast
CANT hide ur insanity FOREVER
behind that painted Clown Mask
The child was getting tired of being teased
Words flowed from her brother's mouth unfiltered
Had he more vocabulary he'd spew.
She didn't care on that morning if she pleased
She went to the icebox unbewildered
milk threw
We all stood in shock, except her brother
Drenched to the degree of being drowned, whew!
But equal to his cruel out of kilter
words. He's thinking there's ways other to
stir stew
Here in the south sometimes we say of a person that they are stirrer of trouble and we used some different terminology(vocabulary) sometimes.
I used icebox instead because refrigerator would not fit, so going back to my youth when some people still had an icebox.
My understanding of this form is 11 lines. Ten syllables per line except for the 6th line and the 11th line which are suppose to be two one syllable words or a one two syllable word which both syllables are pronounced equally. Really don't understand stressed and unstressed. LOL
Rhyme scheme is : a,b,c,a,b,c d,c,b,d,c
6/6/17
Are we part simian?
A centered or off kilter equilibrium
Near or far from the prime meridian
And any kind of amphibian
As well as snowflake obsidian
Items and objects that do or don't require lithium
And or iridium
Choices, accidents, and nature could lead to oblivion
No need for a idiom
I wasn't once ever kidding when
I said I was part Native American aka Indian
Plus or minus
Times of peace and crisis
Endless noise, or pure silence
What exactly is righteous?
Never will I bow to any highness
Another wanting to see me lifeless
So damn typical in this day and age, little to nothing surprises
People being indecisive
Or divisive
Relying on hiding through disguises
All others except themselves are considered sacrifices
With you I wouldn't ever have an alliance
Or give you guidance
Put what's left of you under redwood giants
So that it couldn't be traced by any improvements in forensic science
Two Moons
‘I am the Goddess of Hellfire in spitting disguise when I travel alone and
need all support I can enlist to water my flames lest it gets out of hand’
proclaims the sun all rays shine and glory scorching the poor souls below
grills leathering skin deceives and strokes brains before mid and after glow
‘My parchment cannot be inscribed in solar solitude quite simply reverse
the orbit would gravely go out of sink kilter descend lower as I traverse’
scare the living daylight with radiant blindness imbalance’s solitary pursuit
thus convenes the basking star in solemn dialogue with moonlight’s tribute
The lovers eloped therefore together full steam under cover of darkness
left critics and envious rival dissenters behind because and regardless
of convention moronic norms social etiquette when passion erupted
with lunar pleasure in hearts body mind and soul never once obstructed
They made love and spooned their moons in wax and in wain they melted
pushed into each other pulled mingled as composite thoughts fusing and felt it
decided one sun is never enough and that light needs shelter and darkness
to contrast and heighten the elevation coronate union luminous sharpness
All previous heartfelt damnations the voices of doom slowly evaporated
once universal bonding moons sun and earth and their essence conjugated
they seem raving mad to embellish the sun with interplanetary spheres
but relish new horizons the soothing of hellfire admonish wisdom from tears
16th September