Best Unsorted Poems
In my man cave, is a closet
Which would spawn horrible critiques
Totes full of old computer parts
Some of which my be antiques
Various plumbing parts abound
But Lord knows I'm not a plumber
Game parts, tools, nuts, bolts and nails
Old clothes from winter to summer
There is some work out equipment
For some reason it looks brand new
In the corner is my tool box
With tools scattered most askew
It's been like that for a long time
In a terrible unsorted array
If ever found clean or empty
I must have died or moved away!
Broken pieces
intermingled
scatteredshatters
unsorted
reassembled
a mosaic of madness
blending
scars and flaws
into the beauty
of a shared life.
John G. Lawless
©3/10/2019
Attack the clutter
In the attic pieces of life
And bits of me
So much clutter, sorting through
Old letters flutter
Unwanted, unread
Daring me to show I care
To reach through time
So dust-dimmed ink
Can speak again.
“Into the sack with you.
I have a job to do”
There’s all this papier maché
A flaming crown with snake entwined
I was the wicked queen
One Halloween
Daniel was a devil
Here are his horns
And a tail in a paper bag
Too good to throw
But this other stuff can go.
Made from the Financial Times
Significantly pink, a gun
So many things begun
I mutter “So long, adieu
This day of clearing clutter
Is so long overdue”
Now that could be a poem
And, right on cue
From a stack of boxes
A sheaf of paper slithers down
Littering the floor
I gather up the poems
Like a gleaner in the field
Picking out choice phrases
And, sitting among the boxes
I read them all
then put them back
Old photographs reproach me
Unsorted, stuffed in envelopes
Waiting for something
Or someone
Who never came
Adieu adieu
Wait, here’s a name
“To Mary
With love from Freddy.
I am in the back row
Second from left”
A group of smiling boys
Dressed as soldiers
Captured
By the camera’s shutter
A sixtieth of a second, in 1942
All dead now
adieu adieu
So much clutter
There’s so much time
Spent sorting through
And in the plan-chest
So many plans
Pause to reminisce
Remember this?
Posters made for Art School films
Drawings, prints and paintings
They call to me
But I am determined
I put them in the sack
Pieces of life and bits of me
So much clutter,
And when I’m through
I’ll have some space
To move
Adieu
My will not to break down brought me here ...
Impatience is becoming stronger,
My mind becoming so unsorted.
Can't wait till He walks along with me,
The feeling that hes by me.
When the sky's dark,
All dogs come to bark.
When the stars are out,
Or when the clouds create a blackout.
Raising freshness through air,
No one is to despair.
Atmosphere abundance ,
Till next morning leaves come to dance.
By that time me and him will be after trance,
Of being together,
Possibly in romance.
A new commence.
Being together,
I wish not to rush,
All I need is him next to me.
The rest will sort itself.
I have no doughs to knowing if it's worth,
It's an opportunity ...
To make best of it I need confidentiality.
I must although be myself,
Without stress without planning.
Just letting the beauty of moments go flying.
Smile if any awkwardness..
Stick to his Lovely Sweetness.
I'm going crazy,
Without him I'm hazy.
Often covered in thoughts,
I end up being called lazy.
It's not his bad influence,
But my feeling of loneliness...
Once I meet in a couple of days,
I will realise if he got the keys,
To unlock the futures beauty rays.
See if me and him can stand up tall,
Be there for each other every call.
Although this all needs time to form.
No matter how easy or how much storm.
I don't lose strength in hope,
Brought me here to him.
Will keep guiding,
And I hope to keep on Thanking.
Letters, words, and phrases
Once piled, filed in my brain
Dumped went all the drawers
Words went all askew
Files, unsorted, scattered
Mixed messages now astrew
To this scene I now awaken
Into this dreadful dream
Perplexed and puzzled
Tears now stream
Reasonable realignment
Unfeasible, Unworkable,
Words washed away
Impossible to reach
Imprisoned within
Words from others
Echo in my ears
“Sufferered stroke,” “healing hospital”
Only fuel fears.
Familiar faces
Names don’t know
Smiles and tears
Both do flow
Days now pass
I try to speak
It’s hard to find
The words I seek.
I find only
a
massive
mountain of
tangled terms from
which to pick and choose.
I strain to say the sounds and work the words.
Those around me puzzled, don’t quite understand.
I know ‘things’ and ‘objects,’ on much more
I can’t expand.
Frustrated, Unfulfilled
Feeling strained and stumped
Searching for simple syllables
In massive mounds where they were dumped.
[My husband suffered a stroke on November 15, 2012. His therapist tried to explain to me what aphasia was. As frustrating as it is for the victim to make himself understood, it can be equally frustrating for the caregiver who wants to understand. This poem is my effort to have others understand.]
~~~ {There's a crowd, there's a crowd, there's a crowd of
loneliness} ~~~
Here I sit surrounded by party people bizz, buzzing gleefully.
But I'm in the pits down in my zone, So I can only see me.
Thus, death to the chit chatty tones and slurred speech.
For their voices become catty echoes far from ears reach.
Got up to walk down beaming streets stepping hip to side
unable to speak.
Gulping squawk sounds, of steaming weeps ebbing, drip and slide
down unstable cheeks.
Can't hold back forsaking eye contact my prides' destroyed
as I try to avoid the grandstand of gaudy faces, gaudy
clothes; of hand to body collision. For lonely teardrops
cloud my vision.
~~{I wish it would rain, I wish it would rain,.....
I would sing it if I could sang}~~~
Head butting and unsorted collides. Zombie strutting in
morbid strides. In search of a safe haven. A wide
divide's what I'm craven, of needed segregation to hide
in heeded dissociation.
Joyful laughter, gleeful merriment and happiness all
about. While my lungs fill with hot winds pressed
against my chest in demand to be let out.
The voice of silence, the quiet stillness of the night.
The pains of yearning for thee with all my might.
Curse the agony of my plight.
~~~{Can I please, can I please put my mind at ease}~~~
Where art thou, Oh shelter... Ye place of refuge? Do
not leave my spirit to wilt and welter. Grant my soul
your peace and grace. Nae of down pouring tears deluge.
In my sorrowful demotion to bear the toil of these
boisterous turmoil secures the coiled and shrouded
aloofness of my crowded loneliness.
~~~ {There's a crowd, there's a crowd, there's a crowd of
loneliness} ~~~
Supreme balance is a hand toss.
Today it is I who bear the cross.
Never ask never tell
it's matter of time before my ink drown dead
Before my body became cold
That which Japan deadly testified
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
Why do I hide under poetry
In the third world country
Brainwashed from century
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
Betwen Indian and Pakistan lay kashmir
North Korea and south are countries
Iran and Israel share no boundaries
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
These countries are precious
and back by prejudicing triggers
The Gods on earth shield them
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
for the problem is fragile
fragile was my education while
my thinking, and my companion
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
Though I was reality never confronted
why the two fight? then left unsorted
No inspections reported
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
My water buried in submarines
Pointed with destructions
Why was I then created to be destroy
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
Why was nothing good come from me?
When all their facts are meagre
Because I wasn't made to exist
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
I wasn't innate with knowledge
You turn me intellectual garbage-bin
Where your hazard became my gold
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
Why are you hypocritical in nature
I Stole for you my resources, my future
you accepted, then called me corrupt
For i was meant to never ask, never tell
You no longer care
about my brain dead welfare
You aided it's decay
for i was meant to never ask, never tell
Many destruction were been research
tested to be more deadlier in depth
And my knowledge of destruction is out
for i was meant to died, and never tell
Kakamu jnr.
The mishmash mayhem of jumbled clutter
at first seems to be confusion's cause.
But after tidying up, nothing can be found.
Nothing is where you left it lying, easy to find again.
Last in, first out is the principle of your piles and stacks
of assorted unsorted stuff you left lying all around you.
As you contemplate clearing up the mess to see your desk,
the gathered hodgepodge medley of mess
hums a melody, a ditty in warning:
"Messiness is the sign of creativity"
"If a cluttered desk begets a cluttered mind,
what does a cleared empty desk beget?"
Enough already! I want to be more creative!
It’s not a mess, it's inspired creativity on active duty!
Dear You,
Listen for God's sake!!
The world sends vibrations so frequently
you've memorized the frequency
and hear it a mile away drawing closer
...but when closer becomes here
eyes widen like deer uncertain of their doom
Man, must you fall in every pothole in your road?
A freelance daredevil rocking a unicycle, riding
haphazardly, aware of these obstacles while
brandishing a masochistic blindfold.
The wise side remains less bold,
self-scolding after the fact...
recounting every time you
shot an arrow in the sky,
then fell victim to your quiver
I know you lie awake at night
terrified of all your unsorted feelings
alone, they become real things...not clothes we wear for show
, and Steve, you're not alone...someone understands you...
she stares at her ceiling too wanting to filter truth
seeing herself as rootless, wandering and fitting in no one's mold
as tears spill over her cheeks, yours are damp from nights reflecting
Don't fear she doesn't exist...fear that you can't see with your head down...
Know that you must let go of your father.
His weight has drowned you far too long
and we must move on and tread the water.
...I know the day you met was the the beginning desent
and every day since has been quasi-apathetic
...but you know no father, only George
and up to that day, the world was yours
Take it back Steve, this world you allowed to slip past
as you realized no sense of entitlement, fight for it
and give it to your son...and no one can take it
once you've given it away.
Shadows slithering beneath the threshold of my door;
Yet I can’t, no shan’t
Crack it open and peer outside.
Are there people shuffling “bye”, stealing my light?
I hear no footsteps?
Swing open the door, catch them before they knock.
Perhaps it’s only in my unsorted mind.
But I’ll catch them if I can,
Put them in jars like butterflies or fire flies
To prove the validity of my sightings,
Their offenses or evils in the night.
But why take them as prisoners in my soul?
I’ll simply open this old window and set them free.
Then shut off the light and “lie” in the darkness.
Messed up room and untouched books ariled by dust,
Branded cards specially bought
To bring out yips,
Last year’s Questions
Cut-short by hazards,
Next day’s paper
To prove the intellectuality in us.
Gabfest few minutes and
Gambling with the Joker for few hours,
A priori minds
And the counterattack,
A checkmate came after
When we realized
Only a night left thereafter.
Tension free four noetic minds
Held back for the bid,
Contributions pulled together
For the set paper to reach us.
Selected essay types and unsorted small questions -
Difficulty aroused to find out the answers
For the latter ones.
A yawning start and pages on count
Serious four minds
Now settled to start with the easygoing ones.
A Night-tea break and counting the part left
A great deal to follow, Unlaxed mood yet.
Cut-shorts answers on the way to close
Six month’s at one night
Now to face a three hours of fight.
Smiling four faces and head surging legion
Final bell rang and papers distributed.
Eye balls bulged out,
Heads started to itch,
Last night bid paper
Appeared a son of a b(i)tch.
Experienced four minds
Now to prove their intellectuality –
They followed the same old tricks.
Mugged up answers allotted
To the questions appeared from the same chapter,
Few were filled up
By their inborn self author.
Three hours to end
And we finished an half before,
We just followed the same old theory trick
Never leave the field blank
Or else to choke.
-------------x-------------------
Be there the bight of a November drain
turned off tattered ruffles blotted feign
a ledged I removed and tender earlobes
waif yonder spectral possession probes
cracked nut overture eighteenth twelve
emptied shells retiring indicative delve
drain feign earlobes probes twelve delve
the hour,
Penchant dragged scrape innard depth
souring blindly binds ruse lids breadth
spar sun astir, causation its wandering
scar bites of frost attend a clouded ring
constant errs my inner chambers abide
pivotal piques tricked darkening inside
depth breadth spar scar abide inside
the hour,
A vast plague of vulture flights accrues
a lowly sill contempt its stay construes
awake dreamt feverishly reposed body
quake aloof save I some valued nobody
unsorted escort disembodied but feats
wonder maroon beheld tethering beats
accrues construes awake quake feats beats
the hour,
Therefore I'd wallowed jousting to free
of peals of laughter trifle trailing spree
feeble villagers thoughtless each share
of riddled backside amidst tabled stare
and counters gossip whispers consume
be their claim graphic God they assume
free spree share stare consume assume
the hour,
Remains of a last supper disrobed hang
amidst bunker migrating seasons pang
yond trained reflect stories trail facials
a negging crowded calls milds a rituals
saved I a memoir cloistered singularity
paved upon silken weaves a familiarity
hang pang facials rituals saved paved
the hour,
Bewitched canons riddled yon the altar
stacking of hymnals liberates Gibraltar
of liquefied gift cascading gratification
love stain pigments of my imagination
hues meld a silencing orchestrate suite
enhance the loyal thunder ne'er retreat
altar Gibraltar of love suite retreat
the hour.
It's sad to say but we're pathetic today; cuz we're
childishly crying at the crib
We're screaming, and shouting and drooling at the mouth.
I swear we all need bibs.
Tear stained faces contorted and grimly unsorted; that
mindfully should be hid.
Aren't shunned in rooms to rid, but in plain sight and
"unrightfully" out in the mid
Where ration should be; with raw emotions stand we __
boldly in its stead.
To act with restraint would've actually been noble, but
a tantrum is what we did.
"But Takers are forsakers, and giving to those fakers
can be more than givers can take"!
We are not amusement for you to play with___ but of those
you should not toy or kid.
Good riddance to you and an unhappy farewell is the one
true thing we could bid.
Hit the door; for you're neither friend nor foe, but
merely unfinished poorly formed dough.
We had good notion to be in high motion; and completely
out of rears.
What happened today was uncalled for, and the absurdity
of all my years.
I never thought that something of this sort could bring
on such bouts of tears.
Yet gracious enough it's limit draws near, as warm
thoughts do appear.
Out from the wonderful voice of cheer; and all its
other peers.
To beckon us__ bring on those smiles and lift those tight
wrinkled chins.
As this day closes and comes to an end, we can't let
gloom and sorrows win.
But be inclined to bide our time with better things
__in mind.
So Let us calm our nerves and think of all thats'
preserved __as the crackers and red wine is served.
Alas! we settled us down and had a second go round
til we uttered not a sound.
What gotten into us; must have gone stir crazy,
or completely out of our heads.
To be hooping, hollering, and galloping like horses
up here; crying at the crib.
Unknown to the truth.
Knowledge in my hand,
Facts tell me I still don't understand.
Uncommon voices sounding off unheard bells.
Familiar is strange in this unsorted game.
Love bothers my mind.
So I wonder where my heart is at times.
One of a kind,
This joker is no joke.
Laughter feels my soul,
Happiness is my unknown goal.
Here I stand.
Mind so bland.
Words are not enough.
Fragile to life,
But in disparate need to live.
Love me I ask. Love me I want. Love me I need.
Bringing myself to empty,
My mind scatters.
My world has no dream.
But dreaming is my world.
I cant get myself.
Twisted in my own thought.
Stop it......
This is my cry for help
Somber is the color of the day
Prisms of lamplight reflected, on darkened window glass
A rainbow of color seeping through a pewter lamp of old
While quietly, I sit, and ponder, my pen in hand
Upon cold shoulders, an old sweater pulled close
As varied in color, as my thoughts so far away.
My mind is lost in wakened dream
While trees are tossed about in winter wind
And leaves are dead beneath the snowy mounds
A fire glows, the storm that keeps me bound
One shard of light from neighbor's home
Across the hill, a distant mile
The dimness as a room from winter sighs
While I write the words of heartfelt lullabies
The day is sadder than the words I've found
So somber is the day that keeps me bound
I steal away this moment as I dream
A cup of tea...a gloomy day
A peek beyond the window pane may bring the sun
A glimpse of mountain, pastures deep,
Or a simple glimpse of one who sleeps..
A quiet chance to free my soul
In just a brief, but but deeply felt
Departure from the ordinary things..
I explore my thoughts, search my heart, look at my world
Or often, simply find a memory to unfold
I gather unsorted beginnings, middles and ends...
Taking new directions, exploring unknown places
Stumbling through my mind are puzzle pieces
Watching the words tumble into something unintended,
Unfolding, exploding and falling into orderly chaos
Yet , my feelings, cleansing, pleasing, soul releasing...
The end result perhaps not as beneficial to the reader
But a satisfying journey traveled
By myself..... and for myself, as one creating
On this somber colored day that keeps me bound...