Best Overturned Poems
"Aurora Spills"
Aurora spills like a waterfall
light from the eyes
saltwater tears
crocodilian
scaled in the weight of worth
a drop in the ocean of fate
breaks the seaweed fields of stories
they wave her in
rippling time away
fingertips dance mesmerising
the stinging strangers
wrapped around her legs
treading water in deep
infested notions
the coolness of
irreverent nonchalance
romantic or not
pulls her under covers
like warm blankets
heavy comfort
calls the broken
floating towards
the shabby matrix
new gates of life open
mirrors crack like eggs
the vision reflects
both light and dark
demon and saint
their remnants
embers, still
in the coldness
of prickly gloaming
like glow worm glen
fireflies red and glowing
sparks ignite
a rapturous bushfire
from cinders
billy tea leaves overturned
empty cups read
the yolk of a heart
never lies
fried casually
by the over easy
in shallow pans
of poetry
under microscopes
of blithe mordant critique
minute shards of gold
are slowly sifted
from the flotsam dross
some wisdom found
in the muddy fertile mind
shooting up
from 6ft underground
like small green plants
growing under rocks
with centipedes and
the petulant poison of spiders
in pink reflection
insurgence blooms
war never waits
silently the Pandoras smile
understanding all and nothing
of a small life distended,
swelling love
for that which was stolen
where bursting broken blue weeds
undo frozen jewels
diamonds sharp for the cutting
shiny words spells of insanity
delicious moments
melting time swallowed
spoken without voice
listening to ghosts
scratching through walls
where life floods
from glass boxes
coffins of buried treasure
banished
kaleidoscope colours
overgrowing
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“The Lady in the Lake”/ Elysian Fields
https://youtu.be/IjX8xfZ7sg0
“Out of whose womb came the ice
And the hoary frost of heaven
Who hath gendered it
The waters are hid as with a stone
And the face of the deep is frozen”
LYRICS/ “The Lady in the Lake”, Elysian Fields
https://genius.com/Elysian-fields-lady-in-the-lake-lyrics
I couldn’t understand the language she spoke,
at least not all of it,
but the emotion pouring past her lips,
the tears in her eyes, her clenched and shaking fists
enunciated more clearly,
than any piece of English Poetry I had ever read,
and grabbed me, held me still.
…In that moment, her soul was in my arms.
In that finite, tender breath of our lives,
she was my mother, my best friend…
but I could not console her.
I didn’t have the words;
and my heart sank into the
concrete between us,
wet with the pain of God’s rain
and her tears.
…Were my tears
So, I simply opened my palms
toward her crouched form and
spoke the only words I could
fathom, that would be accepted
by a stranger on a dangerous street.
"I am sorry, It will be okay. God will bless you."
I knew she did not understand…
"Lo siento"
“que va a estar bien”
“Dios te bendecira’ “
the words were as messy as the overturned
duffle bag at her feet…and fumbled, slowly
from my lips, as my knees hit the street.
Two strangers, cried in the rain,
knowing nothing of each other’s suffering,
and yet we shared the weight,
together, for those few moments;
the barrier of language was broken.
Love spoke for us.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
…Love transcends any language
Football coach Bobby Bowden was never one to cuss
But refs make mistakes and coaches have a right to fuss
“St. Bowden” as he was lovingly called by players
Instilled moral values and hushed all the naysayers
He’d not take God’s name in vain, so he coined dadgumit
It became his trademark, might appear in his obit
If a ref made a bad call, he’d race onto the field
Never said God d*** it, when the ref’s call he appealed
"Dadgumitrefereeism" got his point across
The refs would shy away because Bobby was the boss
Sometimes calls were overturned since Bobby was revered
Short and stout in stature, but the refs still shook in fear
The “Saint” played with God on his side and the refs knew it
Dadgumitrefereeism didn't bother God a bit
In novels, love is the obstacle overturned by the ardent swain
In song, love is a grandiose solo in melodic chains
In poetry, love is fervent rhyme in syncopated refrain
In movies, love is a monologue in the rain
In real life, love is made of little things
Of scraping burnt crust off the grilled cheese
Of putting his favorite soda in the fridge, to be cold when he gets home
Of giving up the comfy chair to his aching back
Of putting ice in plastic bags to sooth the shocking jolts of pain in his spine
Of slipping his shoes on and off because he can not bend to do it
Of sleeping alone in the king-size bed upstairs because climbing steps is too excruciating for his weakened legs
Of driving him through rainy rush-hour traffic for his physical therapy
Of watching his face contort when he walks and knowing there are no words of comfort to abate his agony
Of smiling at his goofy jokes, just to have an instant of relief
Of linking fingers while waiting for what the doctor will say
Little things are the cushion
When the world comes down.
2/7/19
As my time on earth now ends,
fret not, I'm not alone,
you see god, my heavenly father,
just came and took me home.
Heaven is my home now,
my brothers please don't weep,
you may lay my body down,
but my spirit is at your sleeve.
We have done a lot of things together,
things ill never regret,
the good ones or the bad ones,
it's those moments I'll never forget.
I'm your guardian angel now,
I'll go with you everywhere,
although you cannot see me,
just know I'm always there.
To every structure fire,
every smoke filled hall,
every overturned vehicle,
I'm on that very call.
In that burning building,
ill be your eyes to guide,
when you crawl across a weakened floor,
I'm crawling by your side.
Remember me with smiles and laughter,
and wipe away those tears,
remember all the good times,
through all the joyful years.
I love and miss you all,
I'm Sorry I couldn't stay,
keep your head held high,
I'll see you again someday.
This world has fallen into chaos
Let's awake the sleeping demon
when a certain world leader
has used from the forbidden book
Totalitarian dictatorship under lies
we need to pray to defeat these evil corrupt powers
do you not think an angel rides in the whirlwind
and directs this storm a new world order surfaces
An ingrowing disease spreads rapidly forcing
destroying public opinion on moral choice
for me it is easy knowing who controls deceit then
secret handshakes with hidden meanings
Signs away our rights at every turn becomes an obstacle
human values are overturned in favour of the sinner
the moral fabric of society has become twisted against truth
in views within murder humanity has completely gone insane
From Willows California,
Comes one man’s poetic verse.
Who was once consumed by drugs,
But overturned that curse.
And with the grace of God,
He lives a clean and sober life.
To fulfill his life’s destiny,
With Antoinette his wife.
He has the heart of an addict,
But it’s not a choice of drugs.
It’s writing out his heart,
In the poetic forms he loves.
He’s no longer in a cell,
Under the direction of a Warden.
He’s free to write his soul,
And his name is Michael Jordan.
_____________________________
To Michael Jordan a fellow souper,
for his supportive comments,
his inspiration, and hard work here on
the soup and out in society...
Hoof beats...palpitate and pound,
A sudden rush...rapidly...rushes by.
Leaving overturned leaves in a swirling...whirl.
Pursuers...persistently follow the tainted...trail.
A Magnesian...mare crosses his mind,
A debt of dreadful...death woefully bestowed.
Death...the debt to breed on forbidden lands.
Centaurus relentlessly...races his hurtles.
Leaving his luscious...love behind.
He’s a Chiron...Centaur at heart,
A masculine...defined...toned...torso,
Merged at the waist of a horse wither,
Where a horse's neck should...solely be.
Being chased for besetting and breeding,
A pallid moon illuminates a fast paced night.
With a timid...terrified look over his shoulder,
A fearless heart...fears the approaching masses.
He not only reaches the edge of Magnesia,
But the edge of a cavernous...cliff.
Caught...trapped...lodged between two natures
(Half-human...Half-animal)
(His hunters...the bottomless cliff)
Thoughts race his mind...mixed reflections.
Flooded by a montage of frolicking memories.
Of a bond not meant to be...destined to not exist.
A desperate attempt to fight extinction,
To successfully mate with a Magnesian mare.
He searches his soul for strength and with his
muscular arms he quickly unsheathes his weapon,
Raising his Chiron...steel sword in cold...defense.
A fatigued heart...a fierce...fight ensues without fear.
Ferociously...fighting to the death paying his debt.
A Chiron heart slain by a legion of Lapithaeian hate,
For a sole attempt to live...to simply breed again,
On the forbidden lands of Mount Pelion,
He faced...fate with its’ risks of death,
Under a Thessalien sky...illuminated by a pallid moon.
For the one beckoning notion called love.
THE SUPERMOON AND THE SEA
The crimson sun goes down slowly cold and wet
At the gripping edge of the sea in the speckled sky
The swelling waves carry overturned palette on crest
The cloud layers blush in colors, in moist air they fly.
The sky soon turns in gloom a void in shades of grey
From where permeate the gleams of the falling dusk
Disappear in the horizon making for the night the way
To creep after the twilight with elements of the dark.
On one such night in the winter standing by the sea
I see the perigee moon appear low in all its grandeur
The sparkling stars spread silver dust falling free on me
The waves churn the supermoon streaks on breakers.
The distant glimmer of the azure water deeply serene
Enters my charmed mind, takes it to sea bottom still
Drenched blue in moonshine I soak the bliss within
The soothing touch of the divine orb I instantly feel.
January 4, 2018.
he gathers bits of colored glass he finds
the odd bouquet of flowers past their prime
the flotsam from the street
once useful in a former time
some torn out pages from a well-worn book
to kindle fires, or take another look
no reason and no rhyme
to what goes in the shopping cart, is left behind
It is a lonely life, but there's no room
to store the treasures others want to keep
to hold them with his own
right there within his mem'ry heap
although he's tried, he'll quietly confide
they simply are not quite as firmly tied
and quiet in his sleep
they slip away in search of climes where they might bloom
from year to year, he travels with it all
the past is down beneath and out of view
then unexpectedly
the cart is overturned, and see
the ground up bits and pieces of his past
those flowers and that broken, colored glass
the light reflected through
prismatic, magical, a painting on the wall
----------
for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 19 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written on 10/20/22
These are 'Mistress Bradstreet' stanzas - 10a:10b:6c:8b:10d:10d:6b:12a
Line 8 of Stanza 2 modified from:
"they slip away and go elsewhere to bloom", which had 10 rather than 12 syllables
Come on kiss me, kiss me, hear,
Let I'm hurt, let I am bleeding,
Cold's inside, it isn't greeting
boiling heart and falling tear.
Mug is overturned in revel,
But their fun is not for us,
Understand, my friend, oh, devil,
We are living only once.
Turn around and look with sadness
in this humid mist that's cursed,
Yellow raven flies in darkness -
Half of moon's above the earth.
Come on kiss me! Yes, I burn,
For my ears - decay is singing;
And some one put on his mourn
in the sky - it smells my leaving.
Fading strength and fading power,
if I have to die I'll die
kissing lips for my last hour -
Sweetheart's lips these all are mine.
And I want my deep blue dreaming
without shame and without curse,
Let bird-cherry rustles singing
to my ears: I'm only yours.
Let the light with foam and revel
over mug will never pass,
Drink and sing, my friend, oh, devil,
We are living only once.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Sergei Yesenin
~He Left~
I woke up blind
with no light
unable to fight back
I couldn't understand why
you left my hand
allowing yourself
to pretend
it was a love approaching
than you ended it
never told me
it`s a dead end.
I had no back entrance to my heart
all doors were sealed
when you made
me bleed,
couldn't begin to heal
my pain overturned
my decision to deal
with my coming minutes
seconds and hours
awake ready to break
any door even to crawl
on the floor and survive
before I dive deeper
into an ocean
none desire to coop
with the raging waves
my love was done
I will float till a boat
could find me or none.
Therese Bacha
25/5/2013
We are young
Love to sing the red maple’s sorrow
Love to ask why people are so busy
Love teasing merchants as they crazily whooped
Sometimes we see sparrow’s head overturned
We will laugh all day long
Life is dancing with the cloud and moon
Poetry is the vintage
Drunk together with sunset
The days passed, nonsense with reveries
The old prophet read my palm prints
He saw a great success in my future
But, what if it lost its tune, just like a song
No more applause and I will be totally alone
I fought my way slowly though the howling wind
Wishing I could stop, but forced to go on.
Rain pouring from the black and roiling clouds
As water pours from an overturned cup.
I felt like the plaything of the elements
Tossed and driven about by their every whim.
Lightning illumined the sodden earth before me
Thunder violently split the sky, angrily roaring
Striking down the tallest of trees as if they were straw.
I slipped down a steep bank, falling in the mud
Lying there as the heavens wept and the wind howled in anguish.
I felt keenly my weakness and helplessness.
Did I have the strength to go on yet further?
Did I dare battle these forces until I was reduced to crawling?
I continued on, stumbling blindly through a forest.
Ahead I saw the form of a shelter.
I peered in, seeing a bare floor and no windows.
It lay empty and undisturbed
Except for a pile of wood against the wall.
Kindling a fire, I blessed my unknown helper
Feeling the precious warmth and smelling the pungent smoke.
The unrelenting blast screamed ever louder through the trees
Beating on the shelter with unrestrained anger.
But I was safe; holed up by a warm, cheery flame
Sitting on a dry earthen floor.
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying am I amidst the valley of said sins
Such joyous commotions viewing children's fun
Seeing happiness abound in wondrous spin
But it's the nature of being here, knowing it's begun
Cotton wool clouds caught by grayed demons be
It's just a matter of moments that they engulf all we
Next morning I awaken to skies of deadened grey
In the distance funnels of evil rotate their dread
Swirling spiral vortexes never shy in their display
Their ignorance now shared delivered imbed
Such her power no prisoners she now portrays
Overturned cars, houses adrift trees now stripped
If such were to be human on a drug fueled trip
God, build me some mountains to surround this plain
Allow said sins to be attracted to forever dissipate
Never to allow grief as such, these tremendous pains
Their height being there simply closes the vortex gate
Lets learn from said angers that they never will again
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying where am I, seeing parasols in lightly spun
.