Best Nose Dive Poems
On days I read…
O dread
The poets are dead!
A taste of bitter
A tatterdemalion squalor
A thread
that dangles
in black death
in the abyss
The art is lost
in those times
The craft
on a cliff
Words swish
then spit
without mystical scope
Spring forth
O poet
Prepare thyself for thy muse
the amusement of thy readers
If thy words
hang upon
thy precipice
let it be stupendous
spectacular
Let them peer
perch
leap
glide with whimsical wings
Fly, poet, fly
Nose dive into the sea
Capture the depths
of eternity
Put a pretty bow on it
or a ghostly hue. Abscond
into the spider’s closet
fiddle on the roof
hang on baby
until you're foolproof
ne’er perfect
leave room for edits.
So the albatross
went diving
but it is the fisherman
that is thriving
up, up, up he goes
into the blue nose
his line
divining
reeling in silver and gold.
Treasures
to share
No dread!
The poets live! Live it up to the end!
November comes down gliding on filmy wings,
Bringing cool and dank days on her way
Sweet it is to watch the spectacular changes she brings
In a medley of colors, plants and trees proudly stay
Earth puts on a finery no other season can beat
In glinting flashes, the land and sky look so bright
The delectable pumpkin pie is the season’s favorite treat
As the day advances sunbeams fall in sparks of light
.
Early mornings come covered in snowy mist
Soon leaves nose dive and mournfully weep
The fallen leaves tremulously cry under our feet
As their last goodbye before they finally fall asleep
Evenings turn colorful with sinking sunlight, bleeding red
Squirrels chatter noisily as they gather nuts in the wild
As autumn tightens its grip, men retire early to bed
Wind blows all through the month with a temper mild
Soon the air turns chilly with blizzards coming in a row
And winter waits impatient for its icy-cold embrace.
The land will then be covered in a maze of snow.
Even the last flower shall fall and fade from earth’s face
The fallen dead leaves lying in piles and rotting away
And the sound of wind whistling the dirge of November
Bring to me the thought that we must all take leave one day
Down on earth, fall and rot, thus be fodder for new life ever!
Nov.13.2022
~ Placed First~
November or December Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Caren Krutsinger
The Kite
It was great fun at the Jersey Shore
flying our kite up high and away.
It is said, 'what goes up, must come down'
when laws of gravity have their way.
And so it did with a steep nose dive,
heading, it seemed, to the soft white sand.
But with a will of its own it chose
a cottage rooftop chimney to land.
Our kite went up, up high and away,
but only came down part way, that day.
Sandra M. Haight
~NA~
Contest: What Goes Up, Must Come Down
Sponsor: Catie Lindsay
Judged: 03/07/2016
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ocean Beach at the Jersey Shore, 2010. An electric company utility truck tried to take the kite down, but couldn't reach it with their bucket. Our kite was still there the next summer in 2011 but eventually was gone in 2012.
Housewives peer from behind dirty windows
Catching signs of the scurrying nightlife
They know killing time is really a sin,
Though they can be absolved by watching Ellen and her wife
Where you can rediscover the inner you
She’s got one so you’ll want one too
Can’t call that greed it’s already yours
And coming up after this break.....it’s the daily chores
Stacy cowers beneath the roar of her make up
Had her eyes opened now she just prays she would wake up
Every nerve exposed to the daytime jury
An army in skirts, ‘hell hath no fury’
While next to her sits the great unwashed
He took all her dreams and had them squashed
So she’ll take the tea and sympathy
She just don’t like her slice......Of Modern life
Meanwhile a demi god is sulking in rehab
His powers gone his plumage so drab
He ponders how his life took this nose dive
Was it that third album?
The stuff they found on his hard drive?
And now his life’s laid bare for all to see
He’s the poster boy for grim reality
But he’ll turn this round, he’ll be back you’ll see
If he can just keep down this slice….of Modern life
And there through a gap in the trees
You thought you saw Albion
Endless rolling fields
Under a golden sun
There through a crack in the wall
You thought you saw paradise
But when you looked again
It was only
Your modern life
Living off the grid..
I bid you ..
It's a challenge..
Living off the land..
For it's quite bland..
A taste of the great outdoors..
Mother Nature exposed..
Absolutely no power..
I cannot even take a shower..
Walk to the stream to fetch some water..
I feel like a fish out of water..
Always in my life I had it made..
Now I can't even get out of the shade..
The sun beats down..
I frown as I run for cover under a massive tree..
So I am free of sun burn..
Food is totally organic..
Which is fresh and pure..
That is for sure
Picking berries and fishing for salmon..
What a way to work up an appetite..
No technology had left it all behind..
Though I didn't think I would mind..
Life is simple living off the grid..
I rid myself of the everyday grind of urban living..
I bid it all a farewell..
Now I have learned how to survive..
So urban life can now take a nose dive..
Once, long distant calls would cost
You, your friends and family so many voices
had to wait, anticipate the budget and the worth
of words said out loud to ride rapid electric lines.
Still sentiments of love freely fly on telepathic planes
while prose and poetry remain yours truly.
When present face to face do you speak truly?
Conversations branch out, chip, splinter into stories, that's the cost.
Fish stretch past arms' length and record breaking climbs pass clouds and planes.
Tell me again how it all began, how many voices
sang out from heaven: Forgiveness for sale! Limited supply, form lines.
Greedy practice, selling soul's salvation, who figures out what it's worth?
Fear can make us pay the selfish who decide our worth.
Are our souls and spirits make-believe, a magician's trick or God's, truly?
Conversations of belief from heart or scripted lines
brainwashed or sincerely swayed, choice has a cost---
Cross your fingers, chant the scriptures, sing with all your voices
until it's real or a lie you can live with, insured for your departure in heaven's plane.
If a soldier's plane crashes, angelic eagles soar, swoop like planes,
nose dive to every soldier because lives are worth
remembering. Telephones shoot words-- bam, bam, bam, fire voices
on ears that bleed worst fears, shattering those who love them truly.
Nothing will ever be sweet or innocent again, this is an impossible cost.
War kills conversations, steals final farewell lines.
Songs please draw forgiving lines,
to rise over hatred in unarmed planes
for a bird's eye perspective to consider the cost
of love lost in doubt, its worth.
Love lights up any sort of soul, truly.
It's power hurls bolts through nerves that revive the mystic voices...
Devils, misfits, do-gooders, cherubs and chumps-- let's hear all your voices!
Call out to love, it won't resist, will cross any line
to save who is good or bad-- it desires everyone, truly
Here comes the light, hear comes our flight, listen for the plane
Remember it's insane to worry about your worth,
to be, to be, is miracle enough, we can't comprehend the cost.
Solo fly or get in line formation with you plane
Lift off, blast past hatred to reach Love's treasure of unimaginable worth.
Truly precious, so protect it, Love in all your actions no matter what the cost
Excuse me please pass the salt
Excuse me please pass the salt,
I am out of luck hit by a lightning bolt,
I am sitting here quiet around this desk,
Thinking about which escape route is best.
It's a blind date set up by others,
Not someone you take home to mothers.
I cannot move I cannot speak,
The duck I am eating still has a beak,
I feel almost sick I feel almost weak,
The feeling is real our future together looks bleak.
Send me the cheque let me leg it now,
I am tired of dinner need to get this some how.
He's quite a bit older by the look of his skin
The stuble is patchy on his chin.
I nose dive into my soup,
He's spilled his food onto his suit.
I want to hide I want a simple good night,
A run in the other direction the no end in sight.
They bring out first course second and third,
We sit in silence not saying a word.
He's not my type or even a maybe,
He sucks his fingers to enjoy the gravy,.
Ok I am totally and utterly unimpressed.
The night was left ruined I wore my best dress.
I need a rest I am exhausted and drained.
This night will never be the same.
Ken you will never be my man I say,
I will always be Barbie in every way.
Mum calls me and I drop my dolls shhh i say it's in the vault
As barbie passes ken the salt.
Thy birth on January 13th –
cervical contractions
would not abate
the pesky master (papa), strove
to synchronize seminal bait
thence, forty-two weeks
after ma parents did pro create
imminent lviii plus years ago to date,
this present baby boomer doth
indubitably and inherently equate
nineteen hundred and fifty nine
bequeathed birthed mine kempf ill fate
neurological manifestation,
sans obsessive compulsive did grate
behavioral motif and analogous
to frontispiece per story I hate
of my life and hard times,
when all of a sudden out blue irate,
the onset of emotional nadir,
where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
decrying, detonating,
and describing me own Pigs Bay
Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
sphere inroads usurped no delay
riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did
Swiss hide dill naught
to decimate with spirited ghost
of William Tecumseh Sherman
determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times)
referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
of rebellious confederated voices
yelling “HOORAY”
Sabotaging orbitofrontal communication
incorporating connection between anterior
cingulate gyrus cortex heightening activity
bridging (via atom sized pontoon bridges)
greater activity upon basal ganglia, which
synoptic description does nothing to alter
the predisposition to ingress of un control
able imbecilic, inexplicable, and illogical
fixation particularly during onset of puberty,
when an emotional kamikaze nose dive
at nadir of near lifelessness, the shadow
of me former self nowhere tubby found
on account of deadly symbiotic relationship.
Waking up from a sound sleep
I felt unusually light
Wasn’t sure what had come about
But was shocked at the eerie sight
In the place of my hands
Had sprouted a pair of wings
My mouth had pointed and curved like a beak
Words came out like twittering songs
My long and flabby legs
Had turned into wire like sticks with paws
And my toes shaped into
Sharp pointed claws
A tail had been fitted upon my back
I was covered in a plumage of brown
My body had thinned and turned so light
And on my head I had a black fringed golden crown
Feeling a strange urge to fly,
I flapped my wings and threw myself into the air
But I had a nose-dive into the woods below
Never knew flying was like playing with fire
Luckily I could perch on the branch of a tree
Looking around I saw a parrot green
He said he would teach me to fly
He was at rest behind the foliage screen
He said ‘Hop.. hop from branch to branch
One step at a time will take you miles along’
One full day, religiously hopped the way I was told
The next day as I flew in rounds, he came along
Abruptly he announced, looking into the blue sky
“Oh come! On wings of joy, we’ll fly
Let us flit over hills and skim over dales”
“Tuwee! Tuwee”, in shrill delight, we flew across the sky
June.10. 2022
Flight Two Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Sabotaging orbitofrontal communication incorporating connection between anterior cingulate gyrus cortex heightening activity bridging (via atom sized pontoon bridges) greater activity upon basal ganglia, which synoptic description does nothing to alter the predisposition to ingress of uncontrollable imbecilic, inexplicable, and illogical fixation particularly during onset of puberty, when an emotional kamikaze nose dive at the nadir of near lifelessness, the shadow of me former self nowhere tubby found on account of deadly symbiotic relationship asper the invisible nemesis – i.e. electrical impulses faux nattering nabobs of mien nativity whereat unseen thriving sensational riffraff quenched powerhouse ousting nestled milkmaids, or rather pressing said resources sans vitality into dangerous, frivolous, and horrendous self destructive antics, where ballistic charges drugged eminent domain former nerve cell size occupants, thoroughly re-engineering sense and sensibility with pride fullness and prejudice on par with dousing one with an opiate that completely upends functioning healthily, judging lovingly, and managing productively versus expending precious time and energy self absorbed into manic, neurotic, and/or psychotic actions, manners, thoughts, et cetera, which irrationality got embedded within the neurological interstices, which even as of this moment hound me akin to wild beasts circling ever closer to launch mortal kombat against their very housing.
Passive agreement to acquiesce by saying that necessary “I do”
impregnating the woman named above transpired until her belly grew
swollen with eden liat thy current star student
now sound asleep – counting sheep lined up in a queue
yet lately this personal state of affairs I chronically rue
and immerse myself in reminiscing about yesteryear
and wonder why passivity elected as a way to escape
utter aversion living with dad and (thy late) mom
both in a boiling can a bull stew.
Predilection to play Russian roulette by avoiding any safe sexual mode
i.e. contraceptives to avoid unplanned pregnancy
shrugged atlas off while spermatozoa adhered to reproductive code
which absence to use birth control also arose
as a natural propensity to procreate from natural urges that did goad.
Now, less joy de vivre doth prevail
to remain monogamous and uphold strictures from this male
fidelity, integrity morality, et cetera buts ahead without fail
from rampant testosterone urge to become appeased, fulfilled, satiated
no matter this dozen plus year bride and groom blindly entered
the unalterable sacred covenant whence sexual need now does ail.
After the birth of daughter numero dos did arrive
the preponderance of physical gratification
took a kamikaze nose dive
seeks special care in lass for long lasting marriage and love to strive.
Gazing with a distant soft saddened stare,
Locked in a zone and I'm staring out there.
Trampling emotions are mangling my soul.
A pilot flying solo with no self control.
Headfirst - a nose dive in progress.
Thinking twice - a complex process.
Falling aimlessly constant flashbacks in mind.
Gusting wind rushing my eyes forcing them blind.
Gravity's strong pull is more than my own.
No turning back, a decision full blown.
Ground zero near, it's closing in fast.
Seconds from death, my breath at its' last.
I'm screaming so loud I wake myself up.
A nightmare repeated, my mind is shook up.
- Yours Truly
This just in, we are long drawn out drab sentences of our breath,
trying to base a topic off epiphany's languid scry, waiting on osmosis to spark a nerve.
Crinkled pages, termites gnawing on pencils, saw dust.
Failed improvs to deliver colloquial precedence, un performed characters with ventriloquist strings for livelihood, the presentation uncanny to scintillating epitomes.
Group 2, line one, drawing a line in the sand. Out of the blue sparks a Big Bang, a flash of genius, a flicker of brilliance in a nano second, staged to theatrical dreams of sun dance wins.
Then there is me, clapping my hands in silenced tongue, speechless with hesitation in my thoughts, smoking in the after burn of rust, only the mind would know what to say left in the smoke clouds of their creation.
I've got nothing, quick sand running through my fingers like vapors in edgewise, and while I am still just breathing they just are, encircling around me like a shooting star.
Traffic Safety Poetry Contest
Miranda Hawley
It's a happy-sad ending hour at many bars
Where the parking lots are fool of cars
Where many of these spiteful patrons arrive
And then drink over the limit and some nose-dive
Mothers against drunk driving are calling
Fix your unruly ways because it’s appalling
Journey exhausting, just a handful survive
Last night’s hellish storm by evil contrived
Mothers, children fully dressed on stand by
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
Hellish storm rolled further out to sea
Captain up the starboard came to see
Surveyed horizon then gave loud cry
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
Women, children ordered to board first
Ship mates, two to escort, dying of thirst
Battered row boats leaking seemed to nose dive
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
Hit soft white sands at dawn despite fears
Silver hair Parson led the Thanksgiving prayer
Discovered fresh stream from boulders up high
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!
Note: Entry for "Ring Out Wild Bells To The Wild Sky" Contest
Sponsor: Dr. Ram Metha