Best Rears Poems
Madness, the Hatter blinks.
Madness, Oz's link.
Repercussions of concussions.
Madness was Portnoy's complaint**,
Madness must reciprocate!
Hallucinations filter by....
Leary* winks at Dali's eye.
A house lands on Dorothy's thighs...
Chicken Little wanders by.
"Madness," Hitler's honcho’s sneer.
Madness splices genes with fear.
"Lobotomize!" becomes the cheer.
Kellogg’s* enema's find waiting rears.
"Are you the ass? Or is it me?
Have I ears and a nose? What do you see?"
"Hehawww," said Pinocchio's friends.
"Heeehaw," said Darwin* back again.
Round and round went Steven Hawkings*.
"Madness," said Lenore's raven* squawking.
"Madness," said Einstein* in a blink.
"Reciprocate!," said the missing link.
Reference Poem Knock Knock by The Archaic Poet - topic madness
* Art by Salvador Dali
* Portnoy's Complaint by Phillip Roth states
if you know you are crazy than you must be sane.
* Timothy Leary explored LSD and other hallucinogenic drugs.
* Kellog [of cereal fame] proposed enema's as the cure to
all health ills, plus loads of sex!
* Darwin proposed man evolved from apes.
* Edgar Allen Poe was mad when he wrote The Raven.
* Einstein had aspergers syndrome a type of
* Steven Hawkings is a wheelchair bound scientist who autism.
extrapolates on the edge of mathematical reality.
A truth in rage of insult furrows my mind
For it is only an offense given to me by myself
In the mouths of others far innocent than I
I feel the tears trickle down my cheeks
For I have surfaced into an ugly mistake
I am always inadequate in this brain
I try to shine like the advice of grace given
But confidence rarely rears its head my way
There’s a sort of shade blocking its way
A shade that darkens everyday
That very shade led me to believe my feelings are wrong
That I will never belong so long as they are not controlled
I must be careful—for the lines of love and lust run cold
I hate myself truly this night
And no one but myself will give me the right
The very right to degrade my every being
Because you are not seeing what I am seeing
There is no point
My lines run cold
Can I be so bold as to say
I still love with a pang of indistinguishable doubt
All feelings enter in
As my truth blurs and checks out
Your words pierce me so deep
I cannot describe the pain I feel
God it hurts so bad
It can’t be real
Much like the love I have come to embrace
The very love that links to your face
Tears don’t give it justice
It can’t be real
Much like the love I will never face
Standing at the plate there is no doubt
The pitcher is determined to strike me out
He squints to see the catcher's glove
Then spins and swings his arms above
The ball scorches a path across the plate
I feebly swing six days too late
The umpire acts like he's having fun
When he bellowed out, "STRIKE ONE!"
Again the pitcher stares at the dish
While I silently make a wish
Not a big request at all
I only want to hit the ball
The pitcher rears back and throws a curve
The ball starts over there and then begins to swerve
I miss so badly I hit the ground
I can hear people laughing all the way back in town
The umpire is having a belly laugh too
As he holds up two fingers and shouts, "STRIKE TWO!"
The pitcher is doing a cocky dance
While behind the mound hiking up his pants
He looks smug and I hear the catcher say,
"Give it up boy, he's putting you away."
The pitcher shakes off signs 1,2,3
He's saving a special pitch just for me
He peeks out over the top of his glove
I can tell that this strikeout he already loves
He winds up like a crazy corkscrew
Slinging a pitch he has never threw
I close my eyes and jerk the bat
Somehow the bat finds where the ball is at
The crack was the loudest ever heard
Nowhere in this stadium can you hear a word
You can hear a pin drop in this place
Nary a smile on any face
You would think that ball was launched into outer space
But alas, it is just a dribbler to first base
I feel I should get out of town
When I saw the other team high-fiving on the mound
Dad said, "Don't worry son, we'll get them next time champ."
After all it was just my first bat at Little League camp!
Rising early to seek the Lord, while he may be found
I take a breath to cleanse my heart while the world keeps spinning ‘round
As the sun peaks o’er the edge to wake from thoughtful sleep
I find my own thoughts leaning to, and plunge in waters deep
I think about the hands of God; the wounds he took for me
The weight of that heavy cross he bore to set me free
I think of his strong and sure embrace to comfort when I’m down
How those hands lift me up and turn my every frown
When sickness rears its ugly head, His hands are there to heal
I know He’s with me when I pray, hands touch me when I kneel
His hands are there to point the way; they’ve guided all along
His hands, like a father should, correct me when I’m wrong
When my very world is shaking, I know that Heaven stands
When my anxious heart is breaking, I’ll not let go His hands.
By Christopher Thor Britt and Lucy Gutierrez Matos - 2014
Motif: Spirituality
A Collaboration
Galloping within the nights of her innocence
he raced around the field fire chasing the heat of equine glee,
the horn of his head, a wizard's weapon and a witch's wish
with which a poison may be whimpered and youth enriched with longer laugh,
rose gold gilding on the supernatural spike ribboned with ribs of silver spells,
sensing the magic of her intuitive love the beast of God's bridge halts,
her eyes pretty in patient approach, his alert with admiring admonition,
they tresspass upon each other by exhalation of warm airy awe
whirling from their mouths, measuring the elation of frienship newly carved,
although invited to mount, the Maiden rubs her chin along his velvet nose,
fingers glide through the mane like breeze through willow branches, he huffs from joy,
in a gesture of supplication she kneels to the Unicorn's lead leg, one arm around
and a hand of healing pressed against his ripened chest, be restless and alone no more,
nibbling her ear in acceptence she giggles at the thought of adventure's anxiety,
leaping like an angel possessed with purpose for playful liaisons,
his back forming a saddle of supple security for her healthy frame, they join naturally,
she names him Azyerbel and he rears in rejoice at the grip of her knees,
riding into hinterlands of history unborn, they share courage known only to legends -
J.A.B. written in honor of, and for PD.'s Unicorn Birthday Contest 2012 -
Happy Birthday my Sphinx -
While we stay silent
The fight is going on.
In Chicago, Los Angeles, New York
The West Indies
And the Lebanon
All over the world
There is a tale to tell
Of some living in paradise
Whilst others live in hell.
Its not a random stumble
Nor a twist of faith,But a master plan.
By those who seek power
Over those who plod along
Its not an illusion, but what is felt
When we are blessed with riches
But cannot share the wealth
But what is ego without a plan?
What is salvation,
when we fail to understand?
Reparation of the soul is a must
If its redemption we seek
And god we trust
When reality rears its ugly head
When babies are born
And cannot be fed
When wars are started
And nothing is said
About the wounded, paralysed and the dead
Mothers lie down and plea.
Gun powder crying out in the atmospher,.
Tormenting my ear.
Some even bow down on bent knees.
They feel the pain and ask for mercy.
In the anguish and suffering , they bite the dust.
The TV the object
Perpetuating the fact
That humanity has taken a detour
On a roundabout
When we fail to act.
From the lack of knowledge
We fail to see
That when we are united
We end depravity.
To grow and prosper, in pastures green
That what was hidden is now seen
The truth for what it is.
When we exist, and fail to live.
When they are taking, and cannot give.
Of time and thinking.
Of mutual living, coexisting.
With love and hope
Not based off trickery and false hope.
Madness, the Mad Hatter blinks.
Madness, Oz's link.
Repercussions of concussions.
Madness was Portnoy's Complaint*,
Madness must reciprocate!
Hallucinations filter by
Leary* winks at Dali's eye.
A house lands on the wicked witches thighs.
Chicken Little wanders by.
"Madness," Hitler's honcho’s sneer.
Madness splices genes with fear.
"Lobotomize!" becomes the cheer.
Kellogg’s* enema's find waiting rears.
"Are you the ass? Or is it me?
Have I ears and a nose? What do you see?"
"Hehawww," said Pinocchio's friends.
"Heeehaw," said Darwin* back again.
Round and round went Steven Hawkings*.
"Madness," said Poe's raven* squawking.
"Madness," said Einstein* in a blink.
It drive me crazy just to think!
"Reciprocate!," said the missing link.
* Art by Salvador Dali
* Portnoy's Complaint by Phillip Roth states
if you know you are crazy than you must be sane.
* Timothy Leary explored LSD and other hallucinogenic drugs.
* Kellog [of cereal fame] proposed enema's as the cure to
all health ills, plus loads of sex!
* Darwin proposed man evolved from apes.
* Edgar Allen Poe was mad when he wrote The Raven.
* Einstein had aspergers syndrome.
* Steven Hawkings is a wheelchair bound scientist [has autism]
he extrapolates on the edge of mathematical reality.[Really!]
hot n steamy is the night,
when erotic fantasy takes flight,
below a moon of fullness bright,
when passion rears and forms my dear....
in the night, he reaches, my body responds, aching to be near
yet the mind screams, pulls back inside its deep recesses
familiar pain rears, sits nonchalantly, laughing, taunting me
is it I who am loved or am I just involved in the act of love
the end justifying the means, a single moment, a brief interlude
conveniently remembered and enacted, how can one truly tell?
I opened my heart and yet I know, I'm not what he was looking for
the knowledge leaves me cold and saddened, ice forming around my core
rejection, inferiority, second best, all words that accurately describe
yet leave no telltale signs of the great pain that they have inflicted
reality and yet my hands roam freely his body as I welcome him inside
to lie buried deep within my being, my heart beating furiously
the sheer joy of being loved blocking out the fear, feeding on hope
even if his emotions are not real, every fibre of my being yearns
to one day capture all his love, to see it expressed in his eyes
to silently carve my essence indelibly upon his heart,
to feel it in his smiles warmth, as his eyes adore each curve
the knowledge that says you are mine and I will love you always
everyone wants perfection, those that know that they are not
nor ever will be the one, suffer from the lies of perfection
so here I lie, accepting the very little that is being offered
praying to someday find more, existing in that in between world
between shadow and light, where nothing is clear, everything is shaded
needing to be perfection to someone, as I breathe deeply with eyes drifting into
my dreams, helplessly staring across the bed of my future
"Nine Inch Nails, Ten Pins and the Purl Stitch"
She takes the cake
they offer, chewing too rapidly,
she Shrews when she speaks
I’ll beat warpath drums, she says,
no mistake
I’m a groper ... goody two shoes
she says
mouth wide open
songs problematic
she's done and she's gone
a stitch loose in the weave
drop one pearl one
dropped
gone
for kissing small bait in the shallows
she circles her quarry
bites their backs
she sits astride
the legs of a hot gripping story
sits like a monkey
begging for peanuts
she spits in comments
I'm thoroughly congruent
in moments of questionable torrent
I am all here
dear boy
dear girl
knit one
drop one pearl hooray
I am all here, here hearing
all seeing, all knowing
I throw it back
and I’ll give you
the crux of the crutch
all knowing
make no mistake.
my good god
I don’t care
I don’t care
do we care?
I don’t care.
truly I eat their sour pears,
place more wax in my ears
she throws pearls
decorously adorning
the minds of sows’ rears
left wing molting
a mouth full of feathers
right wing feeding them
she’s all knowing
bling bling bling bling
bling bling
bowling ball glowing
Ten pins
preparing minds
sharp needles
and yarns
Purl Stitch
knit one,
drop one
knit one
drop one
win
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
“Ram” – Paul, Linda Mcartney
https://youtu.be/dQwdanGKILI
We're so sorry, uncle Albert
But we haven't done a bloody thing all day
We're so sorry, uncle Albert
But the kettle's on the boil
And we're so easily called away
Hands across the water, water
Heads across the sky
Hands across the water, water
Heads across the sky
"Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger."
"There's small choice in wrotten apples".
"If I be waspish, best beware my sting.”
Back in the fifties
America seemed much calmer
McCarthy's commie blacklists
Sputnik's shocking launch
Ike's wife Mamie so sedate
That pre-historic hairdo
World War Two over
We needed some time to heal
Alan Ginsburg penned his 'Howl'
Chuck Berry goosed his walk
The West Wing conservative
White House picket-fence painted
Boom! an explosion
Cultural revolution
Sixties' deaths brought us down
Hendrix, Morrison
Jackie became Onassis
Where's JFK's Camelot
Seventies came, went
Eighties crashed, burned, flamed out too
But Jerry Rubin's Wall Street
Greed ruled the Nineties
Internet changed all of us
The world at a click-click-click
New Millenium
Rapid change hurtles forward
People do change, however
Shootings dot landscape
Retreat into our smartphones
Loneliness Unconnected
Now the Age of Trump
Rears its flame-orange mane and screams
Me-too Movement gains traction
Women come forward
Teen suicide rate rises
Society imperiled
May 07, 2019
Entry: 'Best Sedoka' contest
Sponsor: Lu Loo
What breathes into the brain
and sustains from some secret place a sullied heart?
The pains of faces of others for the wicked barb
and (un) done deed to garnish a little 'peace' ---
but to gloat in cruel cosmos ---
and sharpen thy sardonic horns,
trust in the world and its soft whispers of death....
Little darkling upon thee ---
who walks on crushed beds of glass,
the sharp shards gather in baneful bits
....to each corner of thy heart and mind;
Thy soul is devoid of death and breathes infinite dreams,
and rears from the razor-sharp, biting shards ---
not a glass darkly,
but the glints of glazed stars;
Dig a little deeper, through the sullied shadows dark,
how slow, fat little imps swiftly depart,
swifter thy beams of light than slow plodding dark,
faceless night;
not moon, star or light ---
deep...deep... so stark and shadowless,
beyond all memory and thought
Not an image to paint for only formless black...
(on thy pallet to have) ---
only light in life;
can bring you back what you can have,
the stars and moons, and dreams you make....
How can you be lost,
(when you are the light?)
***Written in 2015/For moments down in faith***
In a house of cards
in torrential rain
social media overload
floods my brain.
Wave after wave
you feel the pain.
Heading down the hallway
into the dark,
the imminent
and dissonant
hellhounds bark.
From the penthouse of hypocrisy
I jumped onto a train
Heading nowhere and arriving too soon
I watch as a little girl forever reaches
for her red balloon.
The Queen of hearts has her axe to grind
Her targets locked.
She rears back
Lowers her blade
As another head drops
We’re well away from this blood lust fray
It’s just a matter of time
til the skeletal banshees and their vigilantes
wave red flags
for their divergent paths
Driving away
ALL that is meek
ALL that is good
Running in circles
forever misunderstood
In a black glass
Chipped and cracked
You can see them still
Never approaching
Never fulfilled
In a timeless dance
They writhe and flay
This storys’ musical refrain
Frozen silent
Their world will ever remain.
Free Verse Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor Joseph May
Sustained by dense manipulation
corruption rears its ugly head
hiding its identity
behind masks of deceit...
the violator
abuses with
a nameless
coward’s
face.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: Form ‘N’ ~ Nonet
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed 1st
© 24th April 2017
When Robin Hood hides in our wood
I shall not turn him out
I'll let his merry gentlemen
Hang all their bows about.
So when a swaggering M.P.
Comes riding by alone
The arrows of the hidden host
Will ring against the stones.
The horse rears up,the man looks round
To see what's caused the stir
And what he sees amidst the trees
Is green men everywhere
Let him complain to Sheriffs all.
The green men will be gone.
When soldiers come to hunt them out
They've vanished every one.
The forests of England are the home
Of rabbit,deer and game.
The green men live their natural life
And we should do the same.
let us all take to the greenwood life
And feel the strength of trees
They do not change at every poll,
Nor do just what they please.
In Nature all is linked to one
And one to all extends.
If we could change our cut throat ways
Maybe all could be friends.
The hearts and souls of all of us,
Form a great human wood.
So let the love we feel be shared,
And heard for the common good.
If everyone is given their place
Then Robin could go home
His men would not be in my wood,
And M.P.'s could safely roam.
Let us all sing,"Robin for King,"
"We all want Robin Hood."
"He took the money from the rich
To be spent for the common good.