Best Turvey Poems
It is snowing in Kansas. Florida has an earthquake.
A tsunami in Texas, global warming gives us a shake.
Weird for all of these countries to depend on a lie.
Global warming has come midseason this fateful July.
Dogs are raining in the Rockies. Cats are swimming in the sea.
The world is upside down, topsy turvey, how crazy can it be?
The ozone layer is almost completely and utterly dead.
Lie down child, close your eyes, rest your tiny little head.
Flowers and grasses are the things of the past.
The last sixteen trees are dying, and I mean rather fast.
The wise ones are on space ships, heading to sky-wonders-gate.
I would have loved to be on the last transport
but we were five minutes too late.
Written: 11-21-2019
Contest: All about the Environment
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureaux
I had a huge notebook full of poems.
They were written on both covers, all around.
Here and there, in corners even,
Some topsy turvey, upside down.
I almost took the purple notebook in
To the station where I relieved myself
Feeling silly, I left it in the truck
When I returned it was gone from its shelf.
I looked at the homeless woman
Who was eating a sandwich out of a bin,
I wanted to go through her satchel,
But I knew to ask would not be a win.
Wishing I had followed instinct to not leave it,
Here I am, every poem gone, my own self to blame.
Just when I thought it could not get worse,
Sunroof would not shut, and it was beginning to rain.
Angel whispers are heard by the chosen
I hear, but ignore, not feeling worthy.
Their persistence bodes well for heaven,
They turn my keen senses topsy turvey.
Pure angel messages resound in my soul,
I am silent, completely humbled and awed.
Angel whispers of joyfulness lambast me whole.
I do not deserve it, I am completely soul-flawed.
Persistence from heaven forces me to listen.
When I close my eyes, I resume resistance.
Barely asleep, angel wings start to glisten.
I am humbled by their chosen insistence.
Totally honored, I meditate on their message,
Why I was chosen is an anomaly to me.
The voice is persistent, keeping me hostage,
Until passing on the message is what I agree.
Written: 8-4-18
Entered:
Sponsor:
For those of you who think no one knows, you are wrong.
For those of you who think no one cares, you are wrong.
For those of you who feel things are terribly wrong, you are right.
For those of you who feel the world is topsy-turvey-crazy, here is my email.
I am starting my own cult.
Shhhhhh!
The Farmers Wife.
Three sheep in the pig sty
how on earth did they get there?
The cows are in the stables
does anybody care?
The horses are in the top field
well, there's nothing wrong with that.
But the three sheep in the pig sty
were guided by our cat!
Why everything is topsy-turvey.
there's confusion all around.
Where's Shep our sheep dog?
He's nowhere to be found.
The farmers wife has realised
that farmers missing to
so without haste she goes to work
there's just so much to do.
Then just as she had finished
and turned to go to bed
she heard old Shep the sheep dog
Locked with farmer in
the garden shed.
*Image of The Politics of Abortion by NYT.
AUDIO: from the film O Brother, Where Art Thou? "Go To Sleep Little Baby"
Soma Sonnet: Abortion Trilogy
It is the right of every woman, or,
Is it the right of every woman, so,
Some folks fighting for life inside the core,
Others say the fight is more blow by blow.
~~go to sleep little maybe
The written trek crossed Egypt and the world,
Rome, Greece, Mesopotamia, and more,
Rice patties and bamboo trails that were pearled,
Procedures taught, too numerous the score.
~~go to sleep little maybe
Twas dark times, inbreeding made more childless,
crib death, world plagues, poverty, starved, and this,
matters of convenience act the mindless,
three tales, will we exist, it's hit or miss,
~~go to sleep little maybe
sad, mad, tis all topsy turvey they'd be,
Mom gots' to go, to sleep little maybe
2022 August 17
For the very first time in my whole long life
Things are sailing along tickety boo
Don't ever remember a time quite like this
On top of the world cuz of you
You've turned my world all topsey turvey
Loving it, as happy as it gets
Been sailing along on cloud number nine
Haven't quite gotten over it yet
Probably never will and why would I want to
It's the greatest feeling known to man
This tickety boo feeling, this feeling of love
There's nothing to match this élan
If you think that it's some great formula
I'd simply say look in your heart
Everyone possesses this ability to find love
The heart's the best place to start
For the very first time in my whole long life
Things are sailing along tickety boo!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Using the snow spade to once again clear out the driveway,
I couldn't help but notice the lights that shimmered all day,
twinkling at me from the sunlight playing off of the snow,
giving the silver sparkling look of the fresh snow a certain glow,
During my repetitive shoveling I caught a glimpse of,
the gold ornaments I had hung on the tree in my front yard,
with the shiny icicles hanging down from my quaint log cabin house,
causing my love of the beautiful scenery to become aroused,
Continual shoveling made me break out in a sweat,
I knew pretty soon I would need to get some rest,
the snow drifts by my house getting higher each day,
with my dog running around in it wanting to play,
At least the snow flakes had somewhat let up,
as I grabbed my thermos and drank some hot chocolate from my cup,
suddenly it felt like there was an earthquake like shaking again,
as I watched all the snow flakes fall down blizzard like with disdain,
Wanting to go in my warm house and lounge around in my bathrobe,
instead I had to put on a winter Christmas picturesque show,
with the giant lifting me and my property up in the air,
I grabbed my dog and held onto my front porch railing with a certain stunt woman flair,
Used to this topsy-turvey world my dog and I lived in,
I saw the giant look at me with a big wide toothy grin,
like two mannequins my dog and I quickly struck a Norman Rockwell pose,
while the giant grabbed the remote and gently put down the snow globe.
12-1-16
My dear Siblings,
I voted for Hillary.
I would have preferred Bernie,
but she agreed to much of his platform-especially universal health care and education and seemed to be cognizant of environmental/climate change issues and bonus--she's a woman!
How I feel now? I am still haunted by the sound of my millennial son as he stood in the shower the morning after the election,
sobbing,
grief stricken,
mourning the loss of freedom and safety for many of his friends of different races,
nationalities,
sexual identities
and religions.
I am both immensely proud of him and fear for him
when I remember him coming out of the bathroom after that gut wrenching and utterly hopeless outpouring of tears.
He wore the look of a young man going off to war
and declared his allegiance and his personal protection to all those now named targets of hatred.
I'm not sure that I would have the courage to be a millennial now.
I recently watched about 20 snapping turtle hatchlings emerge, one by one, from a small hole in the sand bank above the pond and embark on a hilarious topsy-turvey tumble down the embankment and disappear into the dark stillness under the lush green vegetation of the shallow water.
Along the way some of them appeared to die.
At one point, the lifeless forms were starting to pile up near the exit hole of the nest and I feared for those still waiting for their turn to feel the sunlight on their faces.
What amazed me was to see how these little creatures responded to each other.
One would walk right over the top or lightly brush up against the side of an apparently dead sibling
and suddenly they were moving along together.
I imagined one saying to the other,
"Come on. You can do it. Don't stop now."
or maybe "I'll race you",
like I used to say to Jeremy when I wanted him to move faster.
I was relieved and very satisfied when the last one slipped into the pond;
a proud midwife.
I can only hope that the extreme disregard for the Earth and all her creatures,
including human beings,
that is spewing out of our political system and corporations
will incite all of us to a new way of being;
to getting everybody to the pond.
Lovingly,
Kerry
Topsy-turvey and
Not releasing is
This discourse.
Stale, no -
Seeping into a
Cavernous mixture that
Overwhelms the Self.
Sensing immortality.
An impossible reality.
Dragging my feet
into puddles of
deaths lost
and pains remembered.
The Alcoholic
Parley poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Dirty dufflecoat wino
Zigzag up the street
Wobble wobble..
Topsy-turvey on the one side
And half past puzzled
His body form
Is out of order
His odour sour
Orphaned at eight
He explained
Never had a chance
Of a lifetime
I am just the formation
Of Adam's forlorn spawn
I the opposite of pleasant
Eat my dinner
On the floor
Without gravy
No one ever
Belled out a
A good word to me
Not even at home
Mine hands were
Cooked on the stove
I was called
The Bastard in the house
And it was painfull
Sensitively he said.
What do you have?
I only have lonely
Never ever heard
I love you
What do you want?
Just cheer from a
Dumb bartender
What do you fear?
The confrontations in
My nightmares
Pardon me..
I am bitter.
Never had a chance
To be a revelant guest
Just a parched alcoholic
Dry in overtime captivity.
I tang of dispair.
I have tiny gravity
But heavy
To hoist..
And a will
Which is lost
This is my lot
He told with
Blue eyes beaming
I am member
Of the human race
And then he laid
Amazing Grace
On my ears.
It is written,perversion can breed more perversion
nevertheless,lead the way, ya'll of the correct Conversion.
Watch, lest we become satan's catch of the day,
all because we followed the rest on their dark way
Light the path for a lost and wandering pilgrim,
and ,could be, their misery, you may just dim
beaming as a strong pillar or as a tree planted by the sea
because of Jesus and because of thee
or as a bridge over many troubled waters for those
to pass to the good side because of your generosity
Saving them out of the fire,although being quite leary
to even touch their tainted garments
because of Ya'lls Faith...
and beyond what ya'll see, hear, feel, or think
our journey's into Christ's realm ,where He is the link,
and that is why Serpent Venom , we ought not to drink
lest we become like them and we lose our power to think
then become spiritually dead, and produce a powerful stink
Let us not aim to build our houses upon the sand, but rather...
look to the Rock of Ages who came before us in this Land
In this topsey turvey world,
there can be many harms,
but why not use your Godly gifts,
to cure with some of your charms.
Satan is a sheep stealer,a con-wheeler and dealer
he wants you down, he wants your crown!
follow him and you will frown,follow him and you will drown.
23,000 souls were swallowed up by the earth,
when the Lord split it open,
for they had lost their faith
and they needed some serious soapin'
Let us not aim to build our houses upon the sand, but rather...
look to the Rock of Ages who came before us in this Land
Copyright McCuen 2009
The still water of the northern swamp
shone like anthracite coal
lending a rainbow hue to the
mirrored reflections of maiden hair fern
and skunk cabbage.
Strangely grotesque maples
rooted wearily beneath in the hidden depths
of blue-blackness.
The summer sky above hang topsey turvey
Its sunlight sparkling
like fireflies upon the still water.
The leaden air caskets the first layer
of rampant growth,
misting moss, masking mushrooms,
where slick green frogs hide
beneath pink pond lilies.
The heat bakes the red clay bank
cracks gape like the toothless open mouth of a baby.
Layers of hot air create mirages of fright
as the swamp seethes in delight.
Advice from Kaali Hindu Goddess
Cry for the birds whose babies have fallen out of nests
Cry for the wolves who could not feed their young
Cry for the streams polluted by companies who did not care
Cry for the children who were born into hateful families
Cry for the absolutes who do not welcome any flexibility
Cry for the elephants who are killed for ivory tusks and suffer
Cry for Kaali, Hindu Goddess, which is actually me.
Cry for my path of destruction which incurs devastation
Cry for my meager call for justice,
Cry for the world which has gone topsy turvey
Cry for the nuclear warheads which are karmic disasters
Cry for the angels and holy books which are dead to so many
Cry and cry and cry and cry and cry. That is my advice. Love, Kaali
Andrew Mountbatten Windsor
A name to make him wince
When he used to be a royal
Once known as the Prince
Does he have due reason
To complain and whine
In America they promote
Old friends of Epstein?
They're sending him to Norfolk
A move he doesn’t really rate
Probably living there rent free
On Bro’s Sandringham Estate.
According to the Beeb
His ex Fergie has to roam
One of the growing number
Of those looking for a home.
Will the sins of the father,
Only alleged of course,
Be visited on his daughters
An ongoing family curse.
The King was an adulterer
Which must give Andrew hope
Since he was recently in Rome
Praying publicly with the Pope.
Over in America existing
On his wit and guile
Harry’s chuffed he chose
To live his voluntary exile
Willie’s back in England
The perfect royal clone
Wondering if he’ll ever
Make it to the throne.
Has the wold turned topsy Turvey
A revolutionary new era of time
When being rich and powerful
Doesn’t grant amnesty from crime