Best Low Poems
You hit when I was low
The pain you caused, you know
Threw dust on glitter glow
Made weeds of sorrow grow
Cued pent-up tears to flow
You hit when I was low
You hit when I was down
Made me a freak show clown
Took jewels from my crown
Gave not a smile but frown
Held me until I drown
You hit when I was down
You hit when I was sad
Made good turn sour, bad
Streaked pain into my glad
Bandied words like “mad”
Spilled ink on writing pad
You hit when I was sad
You hit when I was lost
Clueless to what it cost
Flowers: blighted in frost
My sentiments you tossed
My boundaries you crossed
You hit when I was lost
You looked down from on high
Not hearing heavy sigh
Not seeing tears I cry
Not caring if I die
And Still you don't know why…
To you I’ve said, “Goodbye”
Jade
With the rules she is quite savvy
Yet she has to pay a levy
She knows for a fact
The weight is exact
But, madam, she is top-heavy.
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This is an offshoot to Jan's "Lets All Embrace Big Boobs"
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Contest: A poem you have not entered in a contest # 7
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placing: 4th
I spied a valley low
Across the road from the cemetery
A Columbus monkey swinging by
The trees of the vale
Stood tall and forlorn
Observing the crematorium
Covered in light gray smoke
As morning traffic streamed on by
Giraffe reached for the tallest bough
And I thought I heard the leopards growl
And by the road was a troop of baboons
As people walked on by
And a few yards away,
Was the army garrison
A regiment trooped on by,
As a sounder was grazing idly by
And people walked on by
Yes I spied a valley low
Where life carried on slow
Across the road from the cemetery
Where footsteps were dull and hollow
A funeral procession was going on
Yes the trees of the vale
Were tall and forlorn
The sun hung high and lorn
As were the clouds of dawn
As I drove along that road
Away from that valley low
You may see me out on the streets
Lying curled up in a foetal position my sleeping bag in a shop doorway
Trying to get a few hours sleep here in my latest home in cardboard city …
I never stay more than a few nights in one place
can never really settle; these streets aren’t safe
You may see me out on the streets
I’m sitting on the cold damp pavement with an empty coffee cup in my hand
Hoping for a coin or two so I can have some real food in my aching belly
Still you hurry past, trying to avoid making eye contact…
Believe me, it’s so degrading rummaging in the litter bins like a wild animal
But some days it’s the only way I can get any food to eat
The biting cold and wet weather is my worst enemy
I can never get warm even when the sun shines
This is no life, just a way of surviving another day
Guess you think I’m a waster, a dirty tramp
You walk on by; judge me without knowing what lead me to life on the streets
Bet you think I’m a druggie or an alcoholic
I guess most people seem to think that
They see my filthy clothes, straggly hair and grey beard
Just five years ago I was like many of you
I had a career, a beautiful wife, and two lovely children
Spent many months away from home fighting for my country
But then I got sent to Afghanistan…
I saw scenes no man should ever have to witness
I was traumatised
Forever suffering flashbacks of the faces of those innocent people
The children, oh those children – made me think of my two boys back at home
I couldn’t cope any more, had a total mental breakdown
I was a broken man …
My wife could no longer deal with the mood swings , the erratic behaviour
The Army did little to help –
discharged me on health grounds, then basically abandoned me
Now I’ve lost everything … my wife, family, my dignity
Many of the people you see on the streets are like me …
We all have a story to tell, but no one gives us the time of day
Passers-by avert their eyes and hurry past like we are invisible
Your eyes may tell you one thing… but please don’t judge me
Because you don’t know me
I wish you would
ease your hold
on me...
I wish you would
allow me,
to be who I really am...
I wish you would not sit
on my shoulder
and whisper in my ear
"you're not good enough"…
I wish you could disappear
and never find
your way back...
I know, I would be happy then
I know I would have
the courage to venture out
and reach for my dreams...
Then I know, I would be me,
if only I could rid myself of you,
low self esteem…
Form:
Began in September
(Watching it grow)
A smoldering ember
(Black-orange glow)
October, November
(Can’t let them know)
Half past thru December
(Hope it won’t show)
Don’t think I remember
(Feeling so low)
The low suffer most the blow of the law
And no better do they fare with its flow:
From injustice to injustice it carries them
But none ever calls this a flaw.
For like that, perhaps, she can’t help to be,
Born of the mighty as she is.
Once, though, every eternity the cords of
patience snap:
Justice is demanded and swiftly she comes.
It's time for revolution, the clash unto ash
between the classes.
By saw and seesaw there'll be newness abroad:
The old system teeters as its sinews are severed
And from cakes of blood springs another;
That long denied by law is now seized by claw,
And from star to tar the mighty tumble
As their thrones are lowered for dwarfs to
mount.
Upwards go the erstwhile low
To be class dwarfs no more
But the mighty of the land.
Amidst this newness, though, an old song
soon intrudes:
In voices faint and mournful we hear it sung
By those from star to lowly tar fallen.
In fields and taverns, at work and at play,
It dwells on lips bright and sullen;
But up above behind stately walls where
stands the palace
None but the children dare sing it—
The song they once heard old papa sing,
Which loosened his lips like a wicked brew
But now binds them shut like a glue.
When from frolics they break
In their playfields green
And in palace parlors
At once warm chants from their breasts erupt
Which with glee and charm they long sustain
Till every soul feel their lips beguiled
To render accompaniment in a whistled melody.
Then swirls the music about every ear, and all can
hear the palace ring:
“The low suffer most the blow of the law
And no better do they fare with its flow:
From injustice to injustice it carries them
But none ever calls this a flaw.
For like that, perhaps, she can’t help to be,
Born of the mighty as she is.”
crisp wind dips low…
trembling on hammock
of rosette sky
along vast dome…
feathery air ripples
like scalloped leaves
winged azure glints…
lifting tufted veil
in autumn’s dance
SKAT's Contest: October Sky
8/25/2015
So, how long have you been waiting? No, it doesn't really matter!
I just came in the game to quiet the chit chatter.
And now that I am here, where should I start?
First, I'll examine your head, and then I'll examine your heart.
Did you really think that you had the skill to beat me.
Like a student to a teacher, you should be happy to meet me.
Just be happy to greet me, and get ready to get taught.
My assistance should be sought, for those weak rhymes that you brought.
In my medical opinion, you can not pass this test.
I am the best, and I would hate to have to open up your chest.
But, be my guest! R.E.D must mean Really Envies Destroyer,
But I'll take care of that, as soon as Nate the GREAT can Deploy her.
Maybe R.E.D means Really Easily Done
Your defeat will be so fun, since I am second to none.
I know! R.E.D means Reaches Eventual Destruction!
I already started keeping score, and you just got your first deduction.
But, once I destroy you, I will help you get better.
You must follow my instructions, right down to the letter.
My first prescription is called "get a little back-bone!"
Out of this battle, you will be gone, unless you can change your tone.
No battle is ever won before the first word is thrown.
I don't care who I battle! In the end, I will stand alone!
My second prescription is called "get a little more skill!"
Your wounds will soon heal, but come again and you will get killed.
Practice makes perfect, so you might just want to chill,
Because this DOCtor does not come cheap. Can you afford my bill?
My third prescription is a good one called "get a little smarts!"
Or, get carried away on a cart, if you can not play your part.
When I begin throwing darts, I am aiming for your heart.
So, decide if you got what it takes, before you start.
Get these prescriptions filled, then see me in a week,
And, remember, they are good for the healing that you seek.
wind dances with great pines
long needles brush together
low musical hush.
(January 28, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
The Enquiry
Is over
They did not find
the missing and murdered
whatever
they were looking for
But every woman knows
Why
There are so many
missing and murdered
Aboriginal women
As every woman knows
Why
There will never be
an Enquiry
into the men
who murder women
June 5th, 2019
I’m hunting high and low,
For someone I am yet to know
I can sense the beating of her heart,
But I know not where to start
She will bring me joy, bring me peace,
And maybe the loneliness will cease
So here I am,
Is she within the reach of my hand
Has she been here once before,
Is she the one who left me wanting more
Have we met in a passing glance,
Our eyes meeting in a chance
Has she passed me in these halls,
Never entering into these walls
Or is she merely just a dream,
A fantasy my mind has created just for me
Never the less,
I shall continue hunting for her,
High and low,
I shall never give up hope
For a life without love,
Without passion
Will have you cold and lonely,
As you walk into the sun
The End
By Greg P
There's more than one Alex at an all time low
Trying to stay up because I know some people want to see me fall like snow
But then depression kicks in and it's off the walls I go
I hope you understand when I say there's more than one Alex at an all time low
Trapped inside these 4 walls as my music blares
The volume turned up so the outside world can't hear the abuse in here
Depression beating me, but the lyrics to the songs remove my fears
I got caught in a daydream so now depression wants to prove my nightmares
When it comes to my mistakes I've always been forthcoming
But depression still wants to ridicule me for my shortcomings
Depression doesn't want me to live them down
Constantly reminding me of the princess I was dating that I didn't crown
"You can't handle a goldfish, but now you want to bait a Piranha"
"you had your heartbroken by a regular girl, but now you want a date with Rihanna"
I reply I'm strong enough to face my karma
I'm just trying to think good thoughts to erase the drama
I would have took a bullet for her, but I didn't realise she'd be holding the gun, now it's poor me I'm shot
I can't deal with this sober, someone tell the bartender to pour me a shot
The more that I learn about love, the more that I'm shocked
My love for you is dead, I'm putting everything of yours in a box
I feel like screaming, but I don't want anyone to hear all the noise
Depression has me at an all time low saying soon we'll really fall out boy
I've been lost for a while, now I'm trying to find somewhere to call my home
Now you know my battle, you'll understand why Alex Gaskarth isn't the only Alex at an all time low
Tying my shoes ($$) for my morning run,
I think about quitting, I wish it were done.
Perhaps if I run at least a mile each way,
I won’t have to cry at what the scales say.
My breath comes in gasps, I look a freight,
The people I pass must laugh at my plight.
I would love to feel the wind in my face,
To do that though, I’d have to pick up the pace.
A few strides taken, my back starts to ache,
My joints are stiff, damn, give me a break.
Where is the euphoria I’m supposed to feel?
The “runners high” they say is part of the deal.
It never gets easier, a form of torture each time…
But hearing “way to go grandma!” is really sublime.
"A man's pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit." Proverbs 29:23 of the King James Bible
Aspiring for achievement glow
That vanquishes painful defeat’s shadow
Arrogance stands at loftiness gate for a show
While selfishness glitters midst jewel of hypocrite’s woe…
Oh, proud human nature, needs heaven blow
To mutter need for divine blessing flow
And be triumphant, staying low.
March 21, 2025
2nd place, "Write Seven Beautiful Lines With A Twist" Poetry Writing Contest Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 3/23/2025