Best Spilled Poems
His bleeding heart
Was flustered from that torn parchment
In their leeching chapter
Pushed aside
As if “friendship” was aggression’s bull
Running through crowded cemeteries
Under quartered, sapphire moon
He sipped pitied shots of century-old whiskey
With a dusty glass of pomegranate w(h)ine
“Why isn’t she coming back to me?”
“My heart will make empty declarations until her return!”
As he childishly latches onto recycled yesterdays
Praying for God to give him
White picket gate’s access code
Writing lavish, debt-ridden sonatas,
In whiplashed curiosity,
On why she chose to forget him
Unbeknownst to decrepit author
That he
Could simply
Return the favor
©Drake J. Eszes
the broken pen
stains divorce papers
love on the line
The coffee spilled as she went out the door
Now brown stains 'pon the carpet on the floor
It saturated her dictionary
Her poetry notebook~both necessary
A little mess that needs to be cleaned now
What would happen if today out she did bow
Entered into another worldly realm
As she so ponders being overwhelmed
Which is more important her writings dear
Or worn carpet 'pon the floor tattered severe
Finis'..
I was born in a life unlike yours;
We have struggled in all the years.
We knocked endlessly but all the doors
Have been closed 'coz of the numerous wars.
I could never forget all the cries,
Tears streaming from everyone's eyes
As their loved one dies;
One by one came in their demise.
It was too painful to see
As everyone attempted to flee.
Amidst the battle to be free,
You can hear sickening cries of plea.
Blood from the dead spilled on the ground.
In endless anger we all drowned.
Our minds are nothing more if not unsound
After the bloody battle, silence was profound.
Now the blinding war has ended
Was this how what we all intended?
All hopes now had been expended
Lives taken and ruined how can be amended?
Conglomeration of fragmented oil
Angry spirits burst forth
grotesque faces as on an
oil painting exploding all hopes
The angry beasts of yesteryears
Carelessness cease to care for
the incredible burden as
hopes fade away and life dies
Anger seeps into the millenium
crawl spaces of yesteryear and
holes of tomorrow to stare
irresponsibility in the face of bp
Oil spilled out in brains
And as a new light shines on trauma
for the holes of humanity.......
"Save the last of the last after the blast!"
And the Ocean cries out to cleanse itself
and rid itself of the anguish of the human
made fringe experience...out of the norm
of normal as America only truly is!
This isn't the time to run away
Nor is it the time to hide
they say "use your whole heart
and take a dive"
I forgot the past while I lay in your arms
you partially held me
became my blanket for the meantime
I swam in you and you in I
threw caution to the wind
I didn't think that eventually I'd cry
well I knew I would eventually cry but my brain
and my heart hadn't made it that far yet.
I forgot about the boundaries
and entered unchartered territory
I went places that I shouldn't have gone
because I desired you more than anything
you occupied places in my heart that
should have been left alone
but I unlocked the door for you
and here you'll stay forever
I still get shivers when I hear your voice
And your energy makes me feel like I'm a boss
you see the thing that attracted me the most
is that you picked me up when I was lost.
I fell into you even though I knew the cost.
Now my heart will always be thirsty for you.
Like damaged hair it became porous.
I don't blame you though. And surprisingly
enough I don't even blame me.
We saw a chance to steal a goal
but ended up stealing things we couldn't keep.
For a moment I owned the property,
even if in secret. But the bank took you back
and put foreclosure on my feelings.
Now I'm left scrambling here and there.
I gotta roll my sleeves down and brush off
these lingering feelings. This isn't going to be easy because
I will still be me and you will still be you. Its like trying to get
away from a walking advertisement as big as the ones in times
sqaure advertising someone whose perfect for you.
But that reality is unreal so I put one foot in frount of me
and slowly start to move.....
Our only source of water,
the spring lay to the west,
downhill from the house.
Its flow gurgled up
to form a creek which snaked
through a field toward the barn.
Cold spring water firmed butter,
and chilled the milk,
kept dry in tin buckets,
dropped underwater daily.
Our old sow would root, nose
under the fence, and head
on a straight path to the spring.
Mother hated that sow.
It took hours for the milky,
muddy water to run clear.
No milk for supper.
We wished for the milk
to curdle in her stomach.
If you’ve ever sat in a dimly lit restaurant
with garlands wrapped around
its egg-shell glossy moldings
listening to the faint sound of wine glasses clinking,
amongst the pitter-patter of an unfamiliar crowd
in a late December night,
you know the feeling
It’s like a cross between Deja-vu and an epiphany
- it tells you that ‘yes, you have a good life.
This is a good thing.
The boy holding your hand loves you,
and the people at this table are happy,’
but it also tells you ‘something is missing.
This is right in all the wrong ways.
They are happy, but you are not.’
And at that moment, life is laid out in front of you;
stitched into the silk napkin above your dinner plate.
It’s a mirage of
everything you want,
everything you need, and
everything you are grateful for
but it dawns on you that,
these three things do not coincide.
There isn’t anything else to do
on a night like this,
besides fade in and out
of the conversation ringing in your right ear.
But you still listen to the glasses that continue
to clink cheerfully and the chit-chat around you
because maybe you’ll get up and leave this life behind.
But then again, maybe not.
A part of you still wants to savor it.
A part of you still wants to honor it.
So you do
I said, “You’re the cream of the crop!”
You called me your buttercup.
Emotions churned.
I milked the situation for all its worth,
As my dreams sat splendid before me.
Then, your life spilled out into the world,
And I became unwanted;
A container of spoiled passion
And curdled desires.
You dashed my hopes,
Leaving behind,
The tracks of you,
and Bessie.
That old cow!
Summer’s Spilled Milk
City dwellers pumped;
Oil effused into ocean,
Ocean creatures died.
Can't see my mug
Put bum cream on my face
Thought I saw you drinking white wine
Too late to go to bed
Jumbled thoughts get you that way
On a long day
When the brain is drained
And the night is cold
Spilled the Jaegermeister
On the new carpet
The corners of my mouth
Are much better now
Thanks to the cream
Something I saw in my dream
Was that something in my reality
The glass full of drink
I took into church
Wasn't the cup of suffering
I thought it to be
Yet I spilled it on the rug
Dragged the 7 fin heater
Behind on the bike like a trailer
Thought it might tip
Crossing the railway
It started to rain
Didn't want it to get wet
Rested it on the veranda
At the old peoples home
But they might snatch it
As I have to go and do a job
Down the road a little
Nah, they can't afford it anyway
Can you see the connection
Between the metaphors?
As if the thoughts
Are spilled like blood
Sacrificially
Like the man who
Pulled a knife on me
To show me how he would cut
Both Achilles' tendons
So I'd never walk again
Only I gained some distance
On that imagined reality.
Yes, it is as if the thoughts are
Spilled like
Sacrificial blood.
I spilled my heart to you, but you don't listen.
When you don't say I love you back, my eyes start to glisten...
When I don't get a response for days, it makes me think that you want to go separate ways.
When you lie to me saying that you miss me, it hurts when you avoid me...
You don't know what I feel...
You don't know what I go through.
You don't know what I want you to do.
You never listen to me when I speak the truth, because your still in the bloom of youth.
It's not worth it to fix a broken mirror if I'll just wind up hurt.
I've tried to patch this up one to many times.
And these scars and scratches are what cause me to write these rhymes...
But obviously you don't care, because if you did, you wouldn't just leave me hanging there.
Looking Like a fool for you, breaking the rules for you.
This is what I do for you.
But I'll just stop trying because it's not worth the crying
It's not worth the hurt.
I'd do anything for you, I'd give you the shirt I was wearing, but no I'm just to over bearing.
People like you make me sick.
Thinking your being slick, hiding what you do behind your back.
A few times ive gone down that track.
But you know what? I've learned not to act like that.
Your on your own now, come in my way I'll run you over like a plow.
It's not worth the hurt, it's not worth the tears, and it's not worth the endless fears.
It was late afternoon on the 27th of June.
I was sitting on my porch, just whistling a tune.
Having just returned from a European tour;
My bride being tired sat in her chair and snored.
I was feeling just a wee bit bored,
So headed to Fred’s for evening chores.
Now we had just finished milking
And I was considering exiting.
When Fred tossed me a broom;
Asking “Would you mind sweeping the milk room.”
I had just finished emptying the dustpan,
Whence entered Fred with two cups in his hand.
I poured out some milk fresh from the tank.
You could see the smile on his face as he drank.
When suddenly Fred reached over giving my arm a yank.
My milk spilled all over the place,
As Fred assumed a sly look on his face.
“Why did you spill milk from your cup?”
“Because you yanked my arm!” I said in a huff.
Fred just shook his head and exclaimed,
“That’s not the reason!” “Let me explain.”
“You spilled milk from your cup,
Because milk is what you chose to fill up your cup.”
“So, it is the same with you as a person.”
“What you choose to fill up with I’m certain,
Will be what spills out when your life is shaken.”
“Of this fact I do not believe I’m mistaken.”
“If you choose spite, envy, and hate;
This is what you will spill forth when life is not great.”
“However, if you fill up with faith, hope, and love;
These will spill out of you, even when life gives you a shove.”
He asked me, “So what are you into now?”
While I was already envisioning scripts to piece
Inside my head,
With the silence in between his lips
Sketched like woven thread
My oh my, how he had no idea
That clairvoyance is my best friend
I saw right through him
Just how abstract light can transcend
Don’t just stand there and give me those
Desolate coffee coated eyes,
Please ask me a different question
So I can discard my next tragic demise
Because when you left me,
You suddenly took the words right out of my mouth
Leaving me with what I felt,
Words that I couldn’t articulate out loud
A devil in disguise, why didn’t you just walk away
My heart galloping a mile, crisis awaits
Better yet, maybe it’s best if you did stay
Take another sip out of the witches brew
Cradling your palm against the mug,
Yielding me with inflicted wounds
I recall a time we used to madly be in love
Cosmos that danced underneath our skin,
Synapses of replayed memories levitating above
Not one love is ever the same,
Unfamiliar faces pass and expired vows
Whispering directly in his ear,
“I enjoy poetry now.”
Sexy Dr. du Toit
was a man I loved to avoid
I caught the fever, he had the reliever
instead of giving me the injection, it gushed in his direction…
*The doctor was suppose
to give me an injection on my butt,
but most of it ended up on his clothes..
Must have been my attire, if I was not so sick that day, I would have thought it was hilarious*