Best Overrun Poems
All this hyped up glam and glitz
giggly girls break down in fits
these mascara clad boys devoid of wits
The shallower they go, the deeper it gets
Sillouettes lacking inner angles and lines...
The substance goes absent when the light shines...
Plotless drama without direction, still winds
These tragically bad fads spread like vines
Overrun with Reality shows depicting what's REAL
A mass zombie audience digesting their meal
Not In, but outside, this box they soften like veal
Staring at a screen that numbs how they feel
When did the war on intelligence start?
Losers not knowing that losing's not smart...
Cable providers gladly doing their part
News channels selling half-truth ala carte
I will be a rebel and fight for your mind
Hiding remote-controls where they won't find
Trading entertainment for knowledge in kind
Giving books out to the voluntarily blind
It's gonna be a BATTLE!!! WHO'S COMING WITH ME??!!
America, trillions in debt
gives to many nations!
Alas, what for, we are seen
as a selfish nation?
Homeless populate the streets
of LA.(thanks to governor Newsom)!
Yet don't you get it, we have
no extra money to pay.
No hidden vaccines do we store.
But all nations yelling...
More, more, more.
We are not a vaccine store!
I have no idea why we ever
helped our allies?
They do, to this day, forever
despise us
I would not come on an international
site.
Insulting any nation, as though what
they had, was my right.
We are on the road to becoming
Venezuela, two.
People waltz in here, like
we owe them a living, too.
Besieged with Covid at our
borders.
Thousands for a free monthly
check plus medications, such
hoarders.
There are people legally, wanting
to move here.
Overrun by gangs, the Cartels,
who have no fear.
I grew up in Chicago, quite
international.
Relatives, legally arrived when
LAW was still fashionable.
But we are expected to take all in,
as if we are a bottomless money pit.
Don't you understand, we've
surpassed our money limits?
Stop lying and saying we are
hoarding vaccines.
You are listening to the Cancel Culture
station, in itself, worse than the disease!
3/16/2021
~3~
Here upon the poet’s hallowed ground,
my soul I bare for all to see,
I leave my tale of perfect love
and all you mean to me.
For years I’ve wandered aimlessly,
walking blindly in the night,
‘til your soft and tender kiss
unveiled such ardent light.
‘Tis said one never knows,
the breadth of true love’s power;
like a storm it sweeps upon you,
a sudden formidable shower.
I stand now as living testament,
swept up in its raging current.
Logic bows to the heart and soul,
overrun by true love’s torrent.
Like minds, like souls, like hearts;
drowning in self lament,
‘til fate’s fortuitous hand
revealed love’s sweet content.
Once I mocked the poet’s verse
that paid such homage to the soul;
playful dreams and fantasies,
that spoke of halves made whole.
Such mockery is but a fool’s mirage
your touch forever changed me;
you bore witness to life’s verity;
a portent of what living should be.
As the tempest cleared away
once gray skies turned blue.
The pallid now resplendent
as I viewed the world through you.
Now stripped of past vanities,
I stand naked in the sun.
My world forever changed,
when you and I became one.
Emerging from such throes
to the heights of ecstasy,
your soft and gentle touch
has made it all clear to me.
My world forever changed
that day you stole my heart.
The poet’s verse doth ring true;
I’m but half when we’re apart.
So, my muse, I leave my tribute
here where love’s prose grew;
the perfect theatre to tell the world
how much I love you.
why i write
I sit here now and think about today,
Tomorrow and yesterday.
The choices I have made both good and bad,
The one that made me happy and
And the ones that made me sad.
The people I have known and the friends I have made,
Some have left my life and some have stayed.
Some by choice and some by fate,
But all the times we had were oh so great.
The memories I have tucked away in my mind,
Will help me through this difficult time.
For where I am now is not where I want to be,
Moreover, my future is unknown and I cannot see.
However, I will try to be strong and overcome,
This path that that feels so overrun.
With loneliness and heartache and tears,
For I may not have left too many years.
I write my poems to ease and clear my mind,
To leave my thought and feelings behind.
But not to forget or put aside,
All the things I feel inside.
Someday I will make a book
Of the poems that I have took.
From in my heart so deep inside
And share them with the world with pride.
Written by
Nancy Stoy
06/25/2013
I roll along a dark ledge
Teetering between yesterday and oblivion
Contemplating one final sin
My ultimate act of inner hate
Do I have a choice or is it fate?
A half second away from nowhere
Feeling cool air blowing through my hair
Wishing it could blow away my despair
Lungs sucking in blackened air
Wondering if I ever mattered
Imagining blood splattered
on dappled concrete
As bones and surface meet
I flip gleefully
Imagining my relief
Heart pounding in chest
Beneath the letter held close to my breast
Within it all my sins confessed
Carefully laid out goodbyes
Written in rhymes
Thanking loved ones for the good times
Apologizing
Agonizing
Trying to explain
The coagulation in my brain
Thoughts that overrun me like a morbid freight train
Sunshine that never penetrates my rain
One pennied foot in front of the other
I roll out on the air
Wondering if anyone will care
My mind hyper aware
A feeling that someone is there
In that instant I change my mind
Rotate and look behind
There the Devil stands
I see his hateful smile
He's been whispering all the while
In his hand he holds a file
Labeled "Souls I've Taken!"
I'm both stirred and shaken
I feel my mind breaking
as I'm awaken
Mom says "get out of bed"
My eyes wide open
Thankfully not dead
Remembering what the Devil's file said
Sun shining brightly
Through my window and pain
I'm alive and sane
Not a concrete stain
I thank God I'm here
Feeling thankful
Once again!
For Shadow's contest
Written March 5th 2015
Tobruk Siege
Rommel of the Blitzkrieg
had Europe overcome
With the Stukas and dive bombing
And the Tanks that overrun
North Africka would see his tanks
il Duce’s troops were beat
Aussies took 20,000 Italians
At Tobruk in stinking heat
In Europe when his tanks arrived
The captured did surrender
The Poms escaped at Dunkirk
The English well remember
Morsehead an Aussie General
He baited the trap
Strategic mines, artillery, cooks
manned Italian guns , and ack ack.
Tobruk the Panzer tanks came in
The rats went down their holes (Desert Rats Aussie Diggers said Lord Haw Haw)
They rose behind the tanks
Wehrmact soldiers bullet holed
25 pounders fired at just point blank
with cooks and Pommy Armour
Were thinning German ranks
true blue these little charmers
So they blew the turrets off
16 of the best
Unbeaten until this point
A trace of fallen crest
8 long months they dished it out
Though Rommel tried again ……….(lost just as many tanks again)
He had to wait till the Aussies left
To take Tobruk from them
Don Johnson
70 years ago, the Afrika Korp would attack the 14,000 Aussies and Tommy Tank men, Also known as Rats.
The Tanks rolled into the perimeter, Aussies sprang from their holes and fought the German Soldiers behind the tanks, “We shut the gate behind them” the Aussies said.
This thorn in the side in Rommel ‘s mind allowed time for the massive replacement of
armour destroyed by Rommel, with American tanks. The siege held for 240 days in
what is now today’s , Gaddafi’s Lybria. These Aussies were used to living rough
sleeping on the ground
walking from town to town in the great depression, they were brought up on roo or pig shooting and the occasional rabbit.
The line of people out the door.
The queue that snaked around the floor.
The building's sleek art deco style.
The carpets' faded plush red pile.
The "Coming Soon" in convex frames.
The "Showing Now" and big star names.
The James Bond pose in poster shots.
The tickets from the kiosk slots.
The heavy doors that often creaked.
The seats on springs that always squeaked.
The fan shaped lights along the side.
The screen that stretched up high and wide.
The smoke that swirled inside the beam.
The shapes and sounds of Pearl And Dean.
The adverts that had overrun.
The trailers for the films to come.
The feature that would come on first.
The sudden pangs of extreme thirst.
The usherette's cool ice cream stint.
The fancy names like Midnight Mint.
The expectations in the place.
The action of the opening chase.
The talking scenes that went nowhere.
The plastic cup beneath my chair.
The glance at watches in poor light.
The stunts and guns and final fight.
The seats that sprung as credits rolled.
The exit doors and night time cold.
Love Revisited
He welcomed the somber silence,
and cursed the torpid time that had passed
since his last visit.
Invasive weeds had overrun the place:
Colorful weeds ‘tis true
strange purples, yellows and rusty reds,
scattered here and there
embellishing the lonely place.
He sat on a stone and stared into a void.
Memories rushed into being:
memories long pushed back,
where murky banks held telltale thoughts
he always wished to repress.
How beautiful she was so long ago!
Could he forget that beauty after so many years?
It was not important. He loved her still.
A feeble bunch of forget-me-nots
Would mark the place he saw her last.
Were they enough to convince her soul
that he loved her still? No matter.
She deserved more that a small poesy
of low cost frivolous flowers,
bought on the spur of the moment
as if their offer would alone
atone for his disloyal past.
Is it not strange that after all these years.
he had come to pay his respects?
To remember the good and the bad?
The happiness and the sadness?
The dreams and hopes
and the disappointments
they shared together.
Yet together they made it,
They survived until some years ago
A heart block killed her.
Now she lived in a better place
And he could do nothing but sit alone grieving
and thinking fondly of her.
All around was silence
Except for the dirge of the cicadas song.
In his yearning, he discerned:
sometimes love is not enough.
A grand display the way she plays
the game of love to hearts’ dismay;
with shrewd foreplay she stalks her prey
expecting that she'll have her way.
Like game of chess with quick aggress
and strong pursuit she starts to press
with deep obsess and skilled finesse
to score the king, his crown possess.
With knights so grand held in her hand,
the pawns and rooks at her command;
she'll make her stand, her foe outmanned,
her strategy so deftly planned.
With game begun she starts her fun
and moves her pieces one by one
to make him run in hopes to stun
until her prey is overrun.
But not so fast my lovely lass
perhaps her house is made of glass,
and with his brass she's met her class,
and he will have his piece of her…
He’ll take her down and spin her round
and leave her pieces on the ground
so neatly wound and tightly bound;
he'll have his way...still she'll be crowned.
Despite their claims of skill and fame,
…who has really won this game?
She's not to blame, there is no shame,
‘cause deep within they're both the same.
February 18, 2020
The sun is alive and all creatures are awake
Even the green leaves seem to be breathing
And the air is crisp and cool and pure
Little black and gray birds sit on the bushes chirping
The squirrels are on the fence demanding nuts
The earth here and now is alive and trembles
And out of respect for this day
I will not turn on the tv or listen
To the horrors that man crowded
Overrun extended and exceeded
Beyond what has been brought into being
I need what the earth this day has given
A golden yellow morning, with small leaves quivering
As fresh air wafts through the house
Though the doctor calls early to ask
With a kind heart to make another appointment
I promise next month I will be there but not now
For the sun is alive and all creatures are awake
And I wish to honor what the day has given
Where the antelope used to play is now shopping malls and plats.
Man in his insatiable greed has encroached upon its ancient habitats.
Not so very long ago on the plains just a few miles out of town,
Were herds of these graceful creatures that now have dwindled down.
Also, pushed from the verdant plains are the mighty buffalo,
That grazed upon the lush, green grasses not so very long ago.
Upon these sacred grazing grounds are now concrete parking lots,
And densely cluttered cookie-cutter houses on quarter-acre plots.
Where have all the magnificent wild turkeys gone,
That used to preen and strut about at the break of dawn?
Even the lowly prairie dogs, their burrows they've had to flee,
To accommodate covetous developers who've gone on a building spree.
Of the wily fox and skulking coyote, there are fewer to be seen.
They were forced from their hunting grounds and have fled the scene.
Desperate flocks of grouse and pheasant have also taken flight,
To raise their young elsewhere, escaping mans' spreading blight.
Deer and elk that once peered shyly from almost every copse;
Their environs now occupied and overrun with tacky shops.
'Twould be novel if man would recall that these creatures were here first,
And consider them when pursuing their unquenchable expansion thirst!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
The Parting
Exodus 14
We stand sweating and thirsty by the shore
At the setting of Ra
A setting we’ve always anticipated
Bringing a glimpse of beauty to each day of toil
Beauty now eclipsed by a plumage of fire
Baking our scarred backs
Reflected heat scorching past us
To turn the red waters aflame
Red mixing with yellow
Glistening and churning
What Gehenna must look like
For it was the beginning of the end when Moses came
Since his God awakened from prolonged slumber
Awakened no doubt by the prayers of devout widows
Widows who still believe the stories about Joseph
And safe-keep his bones
But there’s no denying recent events
I thought we hated the Egyptians
But not compared to Moses’s God
And now what’s left of them are here
We hear their horses neighing, their muffled screams of insults and threats
All brought here by the same whirlwind of destiny
That besets us both
And now it is night
The reds and the yellows fade to black
Vibrant colors swept away by wind
And such a wind
Spraying the salt into our faces
Immersing us, maddening us further with thirst
Hour after hour after cursed hour
Ra returns at last
Revealing a scene we will never forget
We face a gauntlet of dry ground
The sea blown aside by relentless gales
The ground covered with clinging seaweed, craggy rocks, and freshly-dead fish
Shrieking seagulls are feasting and swarming like locusts
Holy smoke it is impressive
We stand agape for a moment
Then into this valley the old step first
Slow progress, stumbling, dodging, climbing
Walking through collateral damage
Frequently looking back
Expecting to be overrun by our oppressors
Ra sets again
We all have crossed
We turn and face the sea, now filling again
Swirling with them, horses and men
Gasping for air, dying one by one
Our tears unexpectedly cover the ground
Mourning a common humanity, a shared sorrow
And we feel again the heat on our backs
Heat from the endless desert, from an unknown fate
But O God
Still we thirst
Overrun with covid
Overpowered with stress,
Obligation their aim
Otherwise our health spent,
Oxbridge to the rescue
Outlook fashions a smile
On the front line of hell.
© Harry J Horsman 2021
A girl would flee and hide from fear
As I from you did disappear.
No explanation but I think you know
And so resolved to let me go,
The faded thrill of flaunted kisses
Sparking through my reminisces
In twelve months time has let hope fall
Will I even see you at all?
And on my return so little was new,
These thoughts are overrun with you
All was soon as it had rested,
With you my core is still infested.
This sometime draining dark unpleasance
Now occupies me with its presence,
So is the norm for hearts in hell
To suffer knowing all will be well.
Matured, these conflicts must be faced;
No more of the best days can I waste,
Your smiling eyes I must enjoy
Before they will my mind destroy,
Grown arms wrapped tightly round your neck
Before they will my friendships wreck,
We're changing but not blooming yet
Your foolish plans still make me fret,
And so to I once more you flee
'Til all my mind is gone from me
And all the patience as you outpour
For a lifetime would a woman endure.
Green
the confusing reverence of the place
the holy-waters of the gulf
white eucharist sand trucked-in sunday anew
and flowers ever fresh
renew the question
I watch clouds west
overrun
spilling sun
in the horizon
and comes rain each day warm
same time
same slow way
like the same song
then I think
such simple acts
as prayer hands together press
or happiness
gone to hearts reach again.
Unable to feel these overtures of sky and air and light yet
might I find reason here to live
if
at all
_________________
©© 2000