Best Out Of Sorts Poems
in the fervour of my sweat
sheets drenched
i wake to the toxic bellow of my own voice
in the torment of my own thoughts
in the complexity of my simple life
i lay eyes swollen wide open
in the measure of hours set aside for sleep
overwhelmed by recent events
i struggle with the haunting of their potential outcome
in the exaggeration of my emotional outpour i bleed tears
dry to the air of the night
i shrivel like a plum under light
so this is what it is like
to be a prey to grief
an abhorrent internal pain
i forget its feel when it is gone
i remember its feed when it is here
bent
out of sorts
barely able to walk
i return to the inferno of my now
quiet
i keep my affliction private and unassuming
Feb 28 2016
armand
To be Jack of all trades
But a master of none,
As my memory fades
Still, some do come.
To be master of one
Like poetry or art,
And know how it's done
Is love from the heart.
As I stare at the wall
Shall inspiration turn up?
Does my muse hear me call
Will she fill up my cup?
So I wait patiently
Just for one drop,
As she sits next to me
Now I can't stop.
My pen running wild
catching all of my thoughts,
Feel like a new born child
But still out of sorts.
Will this be as brief
As I believe it will?
At least now I have relief
She did return to fill.
Grouchy is a grubby feeling,
with the nasty taste of blah;
makes you out of sorts with living,
the opposite of hurrah.
You don’t like anything
you used to really love;
instead of giving kisses
you would rather pinch or shove.
You are bored to tears;
your toys - worn out and old;
you sit before your breakfast
until the eggs are cold.
No one can please you,
not even mom or dad;
and if you are not careful,
you’re in your room for being bad!
Some people say, “You got up
on the wrong side of the bed;”
maybe you should get back in,
crawl out the other side instead.
What makes you feel so out of sorts?
You think you just might cry
and mommy says she’s sure you ate
a slice of gritty grumble pie.
We all have days that go kerplunk;
we do some things we shouldn’t do,
but it will soon get better;
pull your feet out of grouch goo.
Just put a smile on that sweet face
and tell the grump to go away;
the sun is up and life is good,
get busy, go outside and play!
© September 18, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
When I
feel down
and out of sorts
and have no get up and go
the only thing that lifts my spirits
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!! !!
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are
Sparkling ~ Dangling ~ Outrageous ~ Bizarre
the longer the better ~ the wilder they are
they are making me grin
I am feeling them swing
when moving my head
zany rings in my ears
some they are odd
some they are even
I wear them together
with flowers in my hair
lifting me making me
outlandish eccentric
zany I grow old disgracefully
but what do I care ~ with
bright red camellias adorning my hair
Written to lift my mood on 10th April 2021
Contest All Yours (April 12)
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
Contest 'Z' contest New or Old
Sponsor Constance La France
FIRST PLACE
A wandering heathen
compelled to wander and wonder,
clinging to the subjective notions
and half-baked personal philosophies
that evolve with each new day
and whisper with each pale night.
Away from the Kingdom Hall,
past temples more austere
and churchyards more severe
and cemeteries filled with believers.
Away from the witch
and away from the doctor
and past the feckless witchdoctor,
casually to the throng of the witless,
clinging to the odd concoction
of odd concoctions.
Wan hoodoo drags the bones,
no voodoo holds the dust.
4th April 2019
Day that once today that is
My once a day poem of how I feel
Day that once today that is
A poem to express my day today
Felt somewhat low and out of sorts
Dismayed in my mind killing mental time
Torturing my writings by reading better than mine theirs
Today has been a day just like any other when I compare
Day that once was the yesterday to today that is
My daily journey writing displaying my feelings
Today is a day where a journey never ends
Just like at night when the light in our eyes shift
That adjustment that period that moment of disbelief
To trust in the day to end with a strong heart beat
My day today is once as it was a lonesome day expressing myself
Day that once was just a day another one tomorrow comes
May I drift away? Into a sun streaked sky or moon beam lunar carpet ride…
Maybe in thought just my dream of imagination left to me
If only there was the once a day that came to save the belief
Then maybe the next time I write I shall not feel the same
This day as it once was not so
Yesterday is gone and tomorrow has not been yet claimed
As today is always the only day a true decision is made
Ill at ease
Bacardi and coke,sipping,
Ripping a pal
She smokes a cigar
Feels out of sorts
Full of retorts.
But under the front]
She bears the brunt
She wants to be home.
Her man, so decent
Works hard
So recent.
Reached an understanding
To be non-demanding
Reached a peak
Decided to speak
Discuss the issues
Spare the tissues
It's good, not bad
No more jack-the-lad
He's the sun
He's the one.
Suddenly she knows
In the midst of the show
That she's loved...she feels
That her life is real.
She is a wife
She has a real life
She remembers the times
The nursery rhthmes.
Mama Mia's a blast
But see what will last
It's good to remember, good to dance
But life is real
Life is still a romance.
One day she left her house, feeling out of sorts
as if some premonition spoke to her.
It said to just stay home; to not go out.
No logic in this, though, could she infer.
She ran her errands, then bought groceries.
To her car she went, exiting the store.
Discombobulation hit! Something wasn’t right.
That feeling now she just could not ignore.
A handsome man approached her as she neared her car.
It seemed as if that guy came out of nowhere.
She saw his knife, then felt its menace at her back.
She looked around; the parking lot was bare.
Discomfort and confusion turned into grave fear.
Like acid in her throat, great dread was rising.
Bound and gagged, how she wished she’d listened
to her instinct! Sadly, her fate was not surprising.
Watching you struggle,
With the demons you hold,
Ignoring the life’s lessons,
And all you’ve been told.
Shuffled and dank,
You appear out of sorts,
Unsteadily perched,
Rocking; back and forth.
Eyes of distain glaring about,
Moans of displeasure,
As if there was doubt.
Selfish, and subtle,
Ingesting such filth,
Silent surrender,
Of body; and will.
Fingernails blackened,
Skin ashen grey,
Unable to determine,
Night time or day.
No hope for the future,
No desire to soar,
Depleted ambition,
Nothing is more.
So sad how it started,
All in good fun,
Unshaven and dirty,
Remnants of,
My son.
There’s no doubt about it, no escaping it;
Living in the material world.
Yet mind and body end up at odds about it,
What it is, what it requires, what it has to offer.
It’s a work in progress
For us all.
Work that doesn’t appear to have an end in sight.
But also work in a world
That appears to have it’s own path forward
Despite what we want and say and do.
Thus our own mind and body
Sometimes being at odds,
And of course in and with
The larger world of others
Who are each at odds within,
And without themselves…
But the material world for all its limitations
Is certainly accommodating,
Generous to the extreme
Tempting with potential fulfillment,
But always within limits.
This is how you train a soul after all.
You give them just enough
To meet their individual need
And require of them just a little bit more,
Continuously.
Always off balance, a little out of sorts,
They then are compelled to keep falling forward
And so eventually learn to walk.
The longest journey may begin
With a single step
But all that requires something
To stand upon,
At least with the illusion
Of solidity.
(10/15/25)
The colors were talking.
They felt out of sorts.
None of them had
Good news to report.
Blue’s smile was missing
He was “feeling down.”
Brown felt like “dirt”
And was wearing a frown.
White looked quite pale
And was feeling bland.
Yellow was hiding under
A big pile of sand.
Green was wondering
Why all of the rest
Looked so brilliant
While she looked a mess.
Black was despondent
And felt like “death.”
Purple felt lifeless
And like a “train wreck.”
Red was floating
And spinning around
Emanating anger
Without making a sound.
The Color Fairy flew down
From the sky up above
And gave a stern lecture
That was created from love.
I want all of you
To stop crying right now.
You all should be happy
And positive and proud.
Blue – you should be happy
Because you “are true.”
Red – you should spread love
Instead of floating 'round “in a stew!”
Yellow – Stop hiding, and honor the sun.
Green – You are healthy and as good as anyone.
Black – It’s your contrast that allows other colors to shine.
White – It’s your crispness that often delights the eye.
Purple – Your many shades bring beauty to all.
Brown – You are a cozy color for a dog, cat or shawl.
So – stop your whining.
You know what to do.
Make the world stronger, prettier, better
And you’ll never lose.
The colors started talking.
They wanted to be “good sports.”
All of them decided that – from now on -
They would only have good news to report.
They circled the fairy
And lifted her high
And all the colors glowed brightly
As she waved goodbye from the sky.
Santa felt all out of sorts up there in the pole,
the elves looked at each other and shook their heads.
They had tried their best to jolly Santa along
but the more they tried, the sadder he got.
Finally one asked him why he was so sad
shaking his head Santa said they no longer believe.
No more do they send me letters of what they want
and telling me how good they have been.
As he sat there the tears rolled and mingled in his beard
and his belly shook and rolled over and over in folds.
The North Pole House started to melt and fall away in chunks
what can we do to get belief back into people's hearts? one asked.
We could write letters and send them to him said one
that will not work said another he knows all their names.
WE have to find a Believer and bring them here to him
for if there is no belief the North Pole house will die.
The elves searched around the world looking for just one
any one would do as long as they still believed in Santa.
Try as they might none could they find. Until one elf heard
a child crying out his heart. Why do you cry? little man,
Santa never answers my letters he said I have sent him so many
The other children laugh at me and say he no longer exists,
that he for many years has never replied to their requests.
The elf shook his head in disbelief as he listened to the child.
He threw some Christmas dust over the child and whisked him
away to the North Pole house. The child's eyes were popping
right out of his head as he watched the elves busily working.
He does still exist he screamed in excitement. He does, he does.
As for Santa, he soon cheered up and busily got to work
loading up his sled with many brightly wrapped presents.
Why did you not answer my letters Santa the child asked?
What letters? I have had no letters for what seems like years.
This mystery puzzled the elves, where on earth could they be,
It was Mrs Santa that had the answer. That old fool she said
he tucks them away in his pocket and then forgets about them
see there are hundreds it is no wonder no one still believes.
Dear oh dear said Santa my mind is so forgetful lets get them read
that Christmas children world wide received so many presents
Once again belief returned and the North Pole house was saved
As faith in Christmas was reborn and happy faces smiled and smiled
written 11/27/2014
I find it hard to tell you of the love I felt for them:
The gentle little creatures that I came to call my friends.
They joined me at a time of life when human touch grew sparse.
When memories of some folks I'd loved were best left in the past.
A time with children leaving home to spread their wings and fly,
While I remained upon the ground to wave a fond goodbye.
I felt the good Lord knew I'd need someone to love just then;
One for laughter, one for joy and both to be my friend.
As shadows of the day crept in and home meant only me;
Two faces framed in window pane were what each night I’d see.
Returning to a quiet house to find them there alone,
Lit up the pathway to my heart and made my house my home.
The daily walks, the food, the care, the petting, and the play:
Led me from my former life, to a life I have today.
Their the first things that were tended when I woke up each new morn
And the last face that was seen by me until a brand new dawn.
I'm not ashamed to tell the truth; they slept upon my bed.
Snuggled up against my side while I clung to the edge.
And when I felt just out of sorts, as happened frequently.
Concern was in their caring eyes, kind head upon each knee.
Yes; I have known all kinds of love, but this one's not the least.
Some brought laughter, some brought joy, but this love brought me peace.
And on each day they went away, per orders from above;
I thanked the Lord for sending me, 'This Other Kind Of Love'.
Ever dream that you were travelling
on the astral plane at the speed of light
flashing forward and back through time
Floating in the air free as a bird
the only tie your cord to your body
an empty shell as you journey afar
Gliding around the world in hours
instead of days seeing all the wonders
slipping silently through people's homes
Hurling on until a sudden tug
has you fleeing back to your shell
landing in it all in disarray
Startling awake and out of sorts
you make heavy weather of the day
grumpy and moody not knowing why
Once your astral spirit leaves again
and travels far and wide through time
then gently returns to settle in smoothly
Now you wake refreshed and renewed
your body and spirit joined together
in perfect harmony with each other
Dedicated to Anil Deo and Belle Bellevue
My muse had taken a nosedive.
No inspiration whatever.
So I was inspired by two great poets,
And snapped off a leaf from a tree.
- /\ -
Incredible I met a dream lass
And wooed her with all my heart, declaring:
When I said “I love you”
We loved the whole night through
Well, we could not help but be happy,
Love was just our joy,
I was so happy over you.
Remember I pledged my love for you, dear
I will be yours so true
Nothing would separate, nothing,
Love was just our joy
I was sure happy over you.
Then fate had something out of sorts for us,
Our love became so fickle, darling.
Remember, I recall all that we declared
Our love had grown so cool, so tepid,
Maybe we needed a break.
And now you seem to love me,
How can I ever be sure?
What proof can you ever give me,
Cry over me, do
'Cause I cried a river over you,
How can I believe you love me?
My love for you was true.
Now you prove yours was true too.
For you did pledge eternal love
Prove, prove that is so true.
Truly I pledged mine and yours too.
I cried over you, remember!
Now you must remember too.
Cry for me my darling,
Cry for me so true!
Alas the snapped leaf had turn brown and withered,
And so had my muse.