Best Only To Be Met Poems
The Extinction of the Sea Turtles
By Elton Camp
Human villainy is a cause for alarm
It causes much environmental harm
If the sea turtle should become extinct
To deliberate human acts it is linked
Sea turtles take decades to sexually mature
Then their offspring are far from secure
Males and females mate out in the sea
But on the sandy beach its nests must be
To the beach where hatched many return
Only to be met by the selfish and stern
She hauls herself up onto the home beach
Digs a hole to put her eggs out of reach
Then she covers and hides them well
Just where they are it’s hard to tell
But people have been there on alert
And immediately dig into the dirt
Huge sacks of eggs they carry away
So there will be no babies another day
It is largely because of this disgrace
That extinction the sea turtle does face
War and Harmony
I caught the red eye to meet my warrior only to be met with war.
A night of hot passion that time has caused us both to long for.
A harmonious melody fills the room from fulfillment and bliss.
See you later sealed with a kiss as our throbbing groins persist.
I walk with a jolly gait in my step until I a single gold earring stubbed my toe.
Now filled with fury as I wonder whom else has been sleeping with my G.I. Joe.
Salty water now free to flow from a broken gaze as I noticed the typewriter in my peripheral.
I take a seat to compose a letter to him about how this love was to be a duo and not a Trio.
He left a half of pack on the desk within reach, he must have known that I’d be needing one.
Smoke caused a fresh pair of lungs to gasp and cough like a beginner at the end of a long run.
I pecked the keys abruptly as I added cigarette butts one-by-one to an already filled ashtray.
Which resembled a two toned rainbow of bright red and gold with its backdrop in gray.
I slip my hands into a pair of soft white lace gloves as I walked towards the nightstand.
My fury is softened as I realize that loyalty must be a requirement and not a command.
I opened the drawer to discover two plane tickets to Hawaii, paper clipped to a wad of cash.
A note which read “If you found the earring don’t jump to conclusions and leave in a dash!”
“I need your full trust so I hope and pray that your assumptions don’t lead you to act rash!”
“Oh and about the earring you will find the match to it is located in the purple velvet sash.”
I opened the sash to find an invitation, he wrote, “Please become my wife underneath the sun!”
Now feeling foolish beyond measure, I’m reluctant to read on any further, for I already feel stunned!
He said, “I hope that your search led you to a desired treasure, Please say yes, because World War II may come fast.”
“I need to know that when I return home that you will be my future from a more pleasant and harmonious the past.”
I blink my eyes and then the world is gone.
Open once again to see some peons upon the lawn.
They came to hear the Lion yawn and swipe a wife by dawn.
That's why I keep my pride and believe,
to conceive that it's respite is my reprieve.
But you yuppies be just mere pawns in the grand scheme;
placed at rank 2 file C.
I treat myself to treats I don't need to ask the priest.
I fill a lady's niche when God's dead like Friedrich Nietzsche.
I'm an autonomous man, the world needs me.
Due to greedy deeds, I lost the lot of you to petty thievery.
Now standing orthogonal to the bishop you orthodox Cis.
Tearing holes in the fabric of time while mother nature sits and knits that.
Amidst a scrimmage over minish mishaps, fisticuffs and misfired mitts with whiplash.
Hexed by wind and turbulent syntax.
As activists vehemently flail at the fascist crux; only to be met by impasse.
Making my attempt to love exclusively an outward expression;
a barrage of affection bombarding the good intentions of a meta-man’s vision.
Otherwise known as fortified Freudian defense mechanisms.
To deal with ideals in an asymmetric system.
Oh but I pray praise that I am what I be.
Hallow thy be virile amongst a creed of faulty seeds.
Yet I’m an enantiomer, a Chiral Beast;
my courage can never be superimposed upon the fear of defeat.
Finally granted with the Coupe de Gras when disagreements meet.
As if graced by chance, I advance with the apex of a Sword’s vertice.
Striking clean from the left to then evade your deceit.
I take a seat while a woman cleans my wounds with peace.
Ahh but even in victory, the warrior’s woe must be debriefed.
I do not know
Whose excitement was the greater
My dad’s or mine
As we boarded the bus
To a long-lost dream
Of verdant fields
Rich with the fruit of native soil
Of crystal clear streams
Where laughing youth
Was spent in carefree
Abandonment.
My dad’s eyes gleamed
As they spoke of glowing hearths
Clustered around with pots and pans
With music of bubbling broth
And the sweet smell
Of meat
As the fat simmered and sizzled
Stirring the rumbles
Of those gathered around
Listening to great grandma tales.
Sweet were his words
As scenes of pastoral joy
Rolled off his tongue
With vividness imbued
With longing
For years gone past
These two score and ten.
Come, lad, he said
With wistful smile
And a soft ache in his heart
You’ll meet ole Gran
And Uncles and Aunts
And Cousins in droves.
The bus droned through the night
And at crack of dawn
We alighted
At a ramshackle stand
With nary a soul
But a lone
Wizened man
Who had seen better times.
With a quaver of despair
My dad fearfully asked
Of such-and-such
Great clans once there
Of streets and of temples
Of markets and yards
Of fields and their tillers
Only to be met with
Stony silent stare.
There was a rise in the wind
As dust-devils danced
The torpor was mounting
Till the man finally spake
The families you seek
Have moved on
To the beyond
Ten years or so
There was a quake and a storm
Now there only be ghosts.
Now we awaited
The bus
To take us back home
Saddened son
And a ghost of a dad.
~19 Jul 2016~
Semi-fictional
Contest: Long lost family
With impatience, we leave
for a broader world covered in gloom
With imprudence, we deliver ourselves
Into a brand new darkness
With grace, we thrive
And embrace the bleak future of our lives
It's just how the society works, I guess
I've tried many times to theorize why we are
And why we hate all
I've tried many times to love
Only to be met with violence
Oh, dear society please keep it up
Maybe if I shout high enough
I will be understood
Maybe if I cursed loud enough
You'd hear me out
I'm just a pitiful error;
Unfit for modern society's perfect biology.
With anger, we delve down
Into a bloody hell that everyone seems to love
With anguish, we march to the tone
The tone to injure ourselves to
With perfection, we love
And I hate you
It's just how the society works, I guess
I've learned that all of us are fake pieces of rubbish;
I've learned we're all littering a beauty that we rape slowly, surely
Oh, dear society please keep it up
Maybe if I hurt immensely,
I can inflict these wounds onto you as well
Maybe if I leap down the concrete tundra,
I can make it rain acid on your precious face
We're all pitiful errors;
we're all perfect for one another
Screw your creations, beast
Screw your ideals
Society, please glue my shattered pieces
Into your deviated masterpiece
I hate you...
Maybe if I die slow enough,
I can enjoy the burning of it all
Maybe if my corpse mocks well enough,
I can stir tears in your toilet eyes
Pitiful error;
that's all we ever were.
They stopped talking to him for no apparent reason
He reached out only to be met with silence
So he prayed and reached out again, no response
He prayed and extended an olive branch, to no avail
Then he shook the dirt from his shoes and joy filled his
Heart like floods of flowing waters
He had a new attitude
Peace was his new friend
And he would never go anywhere again
Where he felt he needed to be in
One day the phone rang
And it was one of those people who had ignored him
He said “Hello” as cordial as possible
But something was missing he felt a detachment
The caller was acting as if
Nothing had ever happened
Wanting to talk about trivial things
But the man who once felt marooned
Said he had to go
The caller paused, and said, “I know”
Taking others for granted is a form of torment
Some may frolic while others lament
Just be aware, that when you want to
Grin and bend
The man who was ignored caught the hint
I fumble along the dark deserted road...
Willing myself to move faster...
My legs are like rubber, they scream at me to flee...
For in this nightmare you are there... Waiting to pounce...
It feels as though my heart will rip itself right out of my chest... Its beating so very fast...
Terror stricken I lunge forward... Only to be met with a wall of steel...
Must you torture me so? With your eyes of horror and pure evil... As I fall back on the hard ground, I cry out... But it is on deaf ears...
Then you take your prize... What's left of my heart...
For in this nightmare you are there... Waiting to pounce...
Savage beasts run rampant on the path between my ears, turning sound to silence, thoughts there to fill the void.
We run and we hide but there seems no way out of this cyclical sentence, years to life.
My creaking joints are a reminder of my humanity, but the alien in my head begs to differ.
I am sworn to secrecy, a pinky promise between two hands of the same being, fingers tied in a knot
The unwelcome banging on my door snaps me back into a state of internal slumber, They will never find out.
Through drainage and desolation
My feelings develop congested and hindered
Common folk chatter aimlessly, but I sit and ponder the fearless death of fallen leaves
Raindrops race down glass, I watch as I fill with an encroaching melancholia
The sound of my cries echo in the hollow auditorium of my chest
Although pounding with in my ears, they are silent to the world around me
I reach out my hand only to be met with the bones of a friend, I wasn't the only one
Proper handshake
No string wrist
Your iconic mustache harboring
A giddy smile
That stretched from Oregon to Maine
Like your Harley once had
I should’ve stirred more conversations
My shyness stifling
The words I wished to speak
Tis why I write this
As words flow poorly
Unless my pen is to paper
Your angelic being left an essential impact on me
I long for you to see this from the afterlife
As a poem is the truest form of gratitude I can offer
Cancer’s viciousness peeled you away
With invisible speed
Like a spiraling tornado
Leaving in its void
A family searching for explanations
Only to be met with the evil head of grief
Your spirit carries on
Through vast memories I hold
Through countless lessons you engrained in me
Through a sensational life lived
When it is time to shake hands again
My wrist will be firm
Eye contact will be made
And a proper handshake given
The Pacific
The ship was going down a water mountain
only to be met with another mountain and
going up and up, this dizzying dance no rest
only holding on for life hoping the Typhon
would blow itself out.
Towards morning the see was simmering
down leaving us to try working, but the talk
in the mess hall was subdued.
Whilst I hover here
wondering if i'll be sick
The hazy details of the nights debauchery
Become clearer with every retch,
And nothing.
Who took that photo with the silly face?
I really thought id be able to pace
Myself this time;
But its shouldnt's and never agains
all morning in the loo.
The bad techno and overplayed hits
Still echop through my pounding head,
Recently obliterated by that dionysian nectar.
The midday sun now pours through my iris
Ill adjusted to to anything mut multicoloured strobes.
Another hopeful attempt to spew hits me,
Only to be met with dissapointment.
Cralwing from the linoleum jail,
I call a friend to reminisce
And hes the same as me, only he pulled and barely rememebers.
And so i enter the platic prison
for a last attempt to purge, but nothings there.
Looking in the mirror telles me to pull myself together,
A sparkling alka-seltzer cocktail takes the edge off
And I remember that hangovers only last a day,
whilst forgotten memories lie in obscurity forever.
This shallow foreland once populated
by Lowestoft people till in 'fifty three
a storm surging high tide inundated
dwellings lamentably lost to the sea.
Former homes replaced by concrete commerce
were sheltered behind a defiant wall,
where years later gathered Christians diverse
to greet the Easter sunrise; after all
only to be met with grey skies and snow
that covered the Salvation Army band.
No sign of the sun, we sang with gusto
to warm ourselves in this bitter wasteland.
No cliffs here to defy a raging sea,
just faith shared clasping a mug of tea.
My body, my possession have be violated and stripped away from me,
A story that I kept locked inside, in the deepest part of me,
Men and women explore my skin like a prize that they have won,
They climb on top or make me face away, tears burn my cheeks as they have their way,
No person believes me, I yell and scream as I tell them what these despicable human do to me,
My insides hurt, my rear end burns, my brain is mentally drained,
Sleepless night, scared of the creaking door, letting me know a client approaches,
Weak and vunerable, no adult to run to, dead or alive, my innocence they deprive,
Something they turnt into a NAKED WEAPON.
Years past and this continues, Im use to it because survival isn't the issue,
I plot and plan on a way to escape the horrid treatment but I have no one in my corner but God and the devil who whisper dirty fortunes,
Telling me to take revenge and let him in,
I fight day in and day out, hoping that God answer my prayers,
I slice at my wrist staining my skin for eternity, as blood pour out, pain soars out as well,
I close my eyes and wait for my life to leave my body but only to be met by hospital lights,
I panick, scream and kick, yell to my foster parents calling them hoes and bitches,
The doctor shoves them out, asking me to calm down,
Its mines I yell, Can't nobody tell me how to use my NAKED WEAPON.
Days past as police dig in my conscious, doctors steals blood and run test,
But what hurt them the most is when they saw my rear end open and torn,
Fear and shame flooded my heart, denying everything those monsters did to me,
I rolled over and cried asking God to come and save me,
Days past and I was about to get released back into the pain and agony that I once lived in,
Scared that the torture will be twice as what it used to be,
Walking past the police I grabbed his gun and fired upon the demons, last but not least,
I turned the gun on me,
Evil does,
Evil see,
Now the world will see how deadly not listening can be.
Why is a word that can cause an argument. Why do I get stuck in the my head? Why do I have labels on my skin? Why are you being so dramatic? Why do talk that? Why aren't you happy? Why are you happy? Why do ask so many questions? Why can't you be like the others? Why cant you sit still? Why don't you just shut up and get over it?
Why would you say that? Why is he doing this that to me? Why won't he stop? Why am I wearing clothes associated with my age yet he sees me as an adult? Why is this a tradition? Why is it common? Why won't she be nice to me? Why won't she just love me as a sister and not as a punching bag a reminder of the past the face she saw crying in the back as the show goes on!?
Why do strangers get the love of a blood when I get the fat that's collected when separated!? Why do I have to yell the same only to be met with confusion expression and laughter? Why do I get the feeling of being selfish when I always had my self and why do I have to be the bigger person with smallest number out of three?
I guess the biggest why is ( why me?).
I start my day with the rising sun,
Got a lot of work before the day is done,
Back breaking and mind racing again,
I may stumble every now and then,
Tossed in the air with no direction,
Caught in the hand of Mercy with no protection,
Smacked back down and my shells' shattering,
Pick up the pieces while I'm drowning in them,
Glue them back with silence and pain
That's just me in the eye of a hurricane.
All these words in my head, only static when I speak,
I'm cracked like an egg, if you want to catch a peek,
Take your look inside, Wanna go for a ride?
Let's take a leap and go really deep,
Be wary of the things you find,
Grab your drink, weed and shrooms,
This is the ride of the undying bloom,
Enough of the gloom, bring on the hype,
Don't stop now cause you're seeing the light,
Keep on going through the dead of night,
Where Demons fly and Chaos reigns,
This is my mind as a hurricane.
These voices pulling me left and right,
Trying to tear my soul just to hear it cry,
Only to be met with screams and laughter,
Hidden are the fires of pleasure doused in the misery of pain,
Burning bright are the pillars of calamity,
Casting shadows down on all insanities,
Ripped away are friends and family replaced with insecurities,
Fighting on and on till the battle wanes,
This is my soul as a hurricane.
I'm keeping my feet on the ground, my head in the sky,
Fighting day and night, one step at a time,
Holding my ground as the wind whips by,
Keep my calm or let the storm rage,
Just dog ear and turn the page,
Let the sun set on this day, the moon rise on this night,
I got no fear for the day I die, All I can do is today,
And take yesterday's pain, make it tomorrows' gain,
When I'm living life in the eye of a hurricane.