Best Spill Poems
Spill
your ink
on blank page.
Express your rage.
Suppression only leads to mental pain.
Without catharsis, art is trapped in cage.
Trauma will stain,
as you age.
Gain your
stage.
Sage
soul smiles.
It's worthwhile
to tame your flame.
Poetry is perfect for thoughts to drain.
Sane words flow to show feelings have no shame.
Mute charcoal clouds,
hail chord sounds.
Tear drop
rain.
Brain
feels free.
Peace now reigns.
Clear skies bring glee.
Release of burdens cleanse untouched debris.
Spill Ink—the poets’ timeless warp and woof;
Signifies our mantra beyond reproof;
Late at night as poets struggle to write;
Our Muse enchants poets to such delight;
Poets seek tone and tenor for a splash,
And images and nuance for a dash.
"Spill Ink!” Poets cry seeking perfection!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(October 18, 2014) (Rhyme Septet)
Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
~Langston Hughes
The clouds spill a thousand secrets
but keep ten thousand regrets
ensconced within the billowy frames
of a life lived with all its shames.
The shame of greed,
the shame of need,
the shame of selfishness,
the shame that leads to wretchedness.
I’ve been told that clouds are wise
and provide the waters to baptize,
drown the sins that keep us bound
And set our feet on higher ground.
Spill it all out
Where is the light to guide these words?
Everything feels gone
Empty again
So spilling it out is impossible?
Yet words still flow through it all
Thoughts still run rampant
Broken pipework spraying all over the place
Rust collecting on the spurting silver
Losing very inch of pride
Unable to control these lines
Pinch it all out
Squeeze it like the last bits of toothpaste in a tube
Roll it up and twist the remains
Pressure is building
Tension is steadily, stiffly waiting
To be released
Let it all go!
There is no point anymore
Stop building on disaster!
Let the words flow
Spill the damn mess out
And don't clean up
Let me pick up the pieces
Hand me the mop
Because when it is finally all out
The emptiness will leave
You'll know exactly what to express
It will all be clear
4-20-13
Oh mommy, mommy!
I have fallen and my head feels ill.
O darling baby, blame it on the spill.
Oh mommy, mommy!
I dropped my milk, now I can't feel chilled.
O darling baby, blame it on the spill.
Oh mommy, mommy!
The bottle top popped and spewed my pills.
O darling baby, blame it on the spill.
Oh mommy, mommy!
The beach is black and the fish have no will!
O darling baby, blame it on the spill...
Illustrated delicately across the page,
Are imprints and collage of poetic verses
Which flicker with the air-brushed strokes of life—
That from my very essence they need to fly ,
Transporting me to mystical hemispheres
As dips of imagination bleed upon endless hours,
Soaked in the glimmer of fireflies, ponds, lanterns:
Within this vivid mind, I allow a crescent moon
This pleasure, this spill of art’s radiance,
To glimmer through a moistened quill
Just how these drawn hands first began, inspired…
O my thoughts drifting into night's allure
On a parchment cast through lattices of sky,
As images rustle unfearingly, upstream!
------------
8/19/2019
Joseph May's One In Four Contest
Line #4
I’m starting to think it all begins at the bottom of this bottle
‘Cause the only time I’m honest is with my inhibitions lowered
Tip them back. One, two, three
Let’s see where one more takes us
How much do you think it’d take for me to want to risk it?
And I’ll spin around in circles, so as not to open my mouth
‘Cause I’d need more bottles to save me if ever the truth came out
So I’ll wait for the burning taste to subside before my eyes spring open
And you can talk, talk, talk to me, but I’ll deny that I am broken.
Now familiar words scream inside, ones thus far unspoken
So I’ll bring the glass back to my lips in a feeble attempt to stop them
This bottle is getting lighter now,
Let’s see if one more does it
Empty your heart
Spill your ink
Let the whole world know
How you feel, what you think
A poem's 'way out there'
Yet in it you'll hide
Their emotions your fiddle ~
Your ink, their guide
Written: August 17, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Checked by HMS.COM/ 5 / 7 / 5 / 7 / 7 -
**************
in the hush of dusk
my sandals brush dry grasses
the day's warmth fading
crickets sing of letting go
and i breathe in the new chill
The surprise that is still to be seen
Whither grows the magic bean
Full of love and sparkling clean
Pray, don’t spill the beans, just yet!
The incredible charm that is the bean stalk
Full of strength and great talk
Is Jack of the axe prepared to walk the walk?
Pray, don’t spill the beans, just yet!
In this world is there a greater delight?
Than the surprise on the face of child with beautiful light
Or on the sparkling eyes of the elderly which shines sprightly
Pray, don’t spill the beans, just yet!
A soul’s tipping point under this ambience
Is not havoc wreaked by much incontinence?
Will faith work without patience?
Pray, don’t spill the beans, just yet!
01/11/2015 Ganapathiraman Raman
Under inexorable gravity’s pull,
galaxies often move toward one another.
Closer and closer they come to each other,
till astronomic smashups happen in full.
For no less than two of them, possibly three,
such a scenario has been predicted,
as computer simulations depicted
through the Hubble images researchers see.
Milky Way will have a new identity.
It’s destined to get a major makeover.
Andromeda’s bound for a broad takeover.
Milkomeda’s what they’ll call this entity.
In that head-on cosmic collision in view—
a colossal stellar encounter full-blown—
it is indeed likely our Sun will be thrown
from its present locale to a region new.
The galaxies into each other will plow,
but our planetary realms won’t be destroyed
nor be propelled into an outer space void,
though stars will not have the same orbits as now.
They’ll go round a novel galactic center.
The fate for our own solar system in store
is perhaps to be tossed far off from the core
of the reshaped ellipse that it will enter.
Of course, by the time the collision takes place,
the surface of Earth, without intervention,
will be much too hot for water retention,
because of the Sun’s super-luminous face.
This means no terrestrial life could subsist
or think that the heavens are seemingly strange.
Thus no one we know of would notice the change,
and our worldly woes will have ceased to exist…
For a while, the night sky will be all ablaze
with new star formations in radiant rays,
but at last in the merger’s more final phase
it will look like spilled milk in a bright white haze.
Still there’s no need to fret or to get upset.
This melding won’t start till four billion years hence.
And that’s way away in the far future tense…
So it’s no use crying over spilt milk yet!
~ Harley White
Dark and foreboding, I float upon a wave; the life I touch most often dies.
Some from the poison in each kiss I gave; my burning fumes can blind their eyes.
Others I seek out with viscous tendrils; suffocate, smother, I steal their breath,
Pour sticky darkness into their gills; wash them ashore on a sea of death.
On Pelicans, otters and seals I prey; hold them tight in my tarry embrace,
On nearby beaches by the thousands they lay; shivering, wretched in their dying place.
If you light me on fire, toxic smoke fills the sky; now let me ask you, what am I?
No words ...
no words strong enough
to capture this obscenity
as egrets and alligators,
shrimp and oysters
and human beings suffocate
on the stench, the filfth of the latest
greatest disaster.
On the radio
some myopic crackpots
are talking about the price of BP stock
and 'now would be a good time to buy.'
Buy while we die.
Sell while you kill
our Earth.
Of what use is this rage, these tears
with a fist raised to darkening skys?
Skys that fill with ether
up from the bowels of the earth.
Perhaps, all the sinkholes happening
around our planet originate
from stealing this black gold
out from its natural place.
Selfish, greedy thieves.
This is the legacy we leave.
Gulf Oil Spill
Another disaster ,
Caused by man.
Oil spills far…
We do what we can.
Once again,
We’ve damaged our Earth
By spilling a gift
Its given us, of worth.
The fish will die
The oil companies will lie
If things don’t change
The world will die.