Best Weighting Poems
"The Green Bruise of Daylight"
A person can die for love
one sees red
the other sees blue
purple bruises
one sees red
alarm lights siren
purple bruises
detach into the grey
alarm lights siren
there is no more singing
detaches into the grey
courts fuelled by pocketsful of lies
rocks and gavels
for the weighting
ocean deep confetti
bottomless drowning
the other sees blue
detaches into the grey
purple bruises
fade away
purple bruises
wrapped in
white paper sentences
stain the mind
words black peppered
crushed mulberry memories
flock like seagulls
their call haunting
hungry scavengers feeding
messages clipped
around their ankles
carrier pigeons in steel cages
jail birds wait the day anticipating
windows watch
windows the colour
of deep forests turn and
walk away
murders of crows
wings rise and fall
towards the green
bruise of daylight
stain the mind mottled
lights along a road
flood the dark spots
driven the long way home
behind straight lines
boundaries marked
contained within fences
broken prisons min min jackets
keys thrown far away
golden chords harpooned
in the heart
of a lost cherub
in safe harbour
another calling see
waves wash the
grave dirt away
windows watch windows
the colour of deep forests turning
towards dark night, the missing
archangel walks away
spilling blood
like poetry
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
A Halloween Story
hints of pantoum
photographic art, Max Dupain/Australian.
Music. "High Above a Green Grey Sea", Colin Stetson.
Your soul is suffocating friend
I feel the sadness weighting you
The pain seems to be without end
My healing love cannot get through
You’ve buried hurt for far too long
A languid fester in your bones
Recalling only forlorn songs
The years have taken heavy toll
Those memories they’ll random come
And pain will boil and surface
And though you’re usually numb
Your tears well up with purpose
I witness valiant the fight
The joust as steeled emotion
That’s cloaked in armor so airtight
Is pierced with guile corrosion
Your words attempt escape and then
As grief seeps through your eyes
Please let your tears fall now my friend
Just I will hear your cries
I’ll lovingly collect your tears
And cleanse each as it falls
Let hurt come out from all those years
I’ll help you crumble that wall
Embracing you I’ll hug your soul
Your healing has begun
Unbury joy that sadness stole
My friend, I’ll be your sun.
12/08/2017
Me: How did you start out?
Sand: I was born a rock. About 5 inches round and weighting
about a six pounds.
Me: Now did you become just a tiny grain of sand?
How did you get so small?
Sand: I have been in this huge ocean for many years.
The mighty waves have rubbed me down to my small size.
Me: How has your size changed you?
Sand: As a rock I could see more of life. As a tiny grain of sand,
I feel my life could be over soon.
Me: How do you like being on the beach?
Sand: I can feel the warm sun. I love the cool water licking
all over me. Sometimes people step on me.
Me: Does it hurt when people step on you?
Sand: No more. I have gotten use to it.
Me: Thank You for the interview. I wish you good luck.
Sand: I enjoyed talking with some who cares about me. I also wish you good luck.
The Endless Fight
My sis and I, we made a vow,
to lose all of our weight somehow.
Long months we tried; sometimes we’d cheat.
Jogging! Oh the agony of da feet!
A one-week cruise; sister noshed and noshed -
Put back half the weight she’d lost!
A month she took to put things right.
Battle of the Bulge is the endless fight!
But, I digress, we're only human.
You can only eat so much with cumin.
And the next day she made her goal.
God bless her heart, God bless her soul.
So now when we get on the scale.
Sometimes we lose, sometimes we fail.
Butt, ;) we both get tired of the botching.
Of all this weighting and this watching.
Nov. 13, 2011 for Silent One's Introduction By Collaboration Poetry Contest
God Has A Plan For Me
I came into this world August 12 1986 by the Grace of God. I was Two months early and was only weighting at four pounds then. I didn’t give up then My God has a plan for me.
When I was six months old I was diagnosis with juvenile diabetes and been living with it ever since. My God has a plan for me.
In 1987 to 1988 I would not walk at all I was almost two years old before I decided to started to walk on my own.
My God has a plan for me
At five years old my father died from a massive heart attacked on the same day of my kindergarten gradation I knew something was wrong but I also know that My God had a plan for me
At six years old I was Diagnosis with Major Depression, Anxiety Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Panic Disorder, Separation Anxiety Disorder, and Social Anxiety Disorder. But I knew My God Had a plan for me.
At seven years old a close family member sexually assaulted me and I kept that secret with me now. But I know that My God has a plan for me
At ten years old I got diagnosis with OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). But My God had a plan for me
At sixteen years old I was diagnosis with Bipolar Disorder I used to fight and yell at any adults and teachers who talked to me and put holes into walls of my room. But I knew My God had a plan for me
At twenty-three years old I was diagnosis with hypercholesterolemia, MRSA but My God has a plan for me
At twenty-eight I was diagnosis with Inflammation of the Bronchial Tubes, Major Depression, Bipolar Disorder the one I have is the Rapid-Cycling, Schizophrenia and I am on Suicide Watch But I am Still here.
My God Still Have A Plan For Me.
How moved was ‘I’ with true inspiration
As you gave it to me straight
Understanding turned in me,
I ‘felt’ despite my numbed fingers
Or my straightened circumstances
As your re-cordings un-bound me.
Heightened, shortened, lightened
Perhaps I should put they re-moved me?
They did indeed though ‘no-one saw’.
As I was moved for the second time
On the next reading.
Sharp as any blade an impression was made
Yet I, un-squashed as it were
Jubilant at the expressive power
Now filled with desire, no……
Swollen with new feeling, ideas, perhaps?
Now new whole volumes I will sire
Or just a few lines.?
But not too tangly.!
©Joe Maverick 18-3-2013
The above write is just about the way we use words and
the effect poetry can have on anyone; its not about a specific
person..I have had trouble putting
this where it should go so had to put it here!
...for Virginia Woolf
Submerged 'neath the surface,
stones weighting her body,
gremlins and goblins
are hobbling her soul.
Images jar,
and memories jostle,
her compass is gone
but she's in full control.
Lungs overflowing,
her faculties failing,
she's one with the fishes,
at last she is whole.
On an autumn day a pig
Digging hardly in the ground,
Suddenly found a big fig
Weighting about one half pound.
"What a lucky pig I am "
The fat pig said in his mind,
"Of course, I will make it jam
And share it, because I''m kind."
"Changing Channels"
We are all
drawn to the light
the silent voices
call us in
like we are
their addiction
components
waived
in the weighting
we swim in
our daily medication
like transparent vespers
We are all
drawn to the light
simultaneously
magnetised
and in our singularity
we consume our
unique polarity
solitary figures
dancing across
the stepping stones
strange keys
connected
inside us
the child calls
towards the
centre that
is evasive, missing
A New Year
freefall
fireworks
only last a short while
codes for lifts
1702, nothing is ever easy
so we walk the stairs
an exercise in patience;
blow-ins
walk back in again
eventually
changing channels
Christmas arrives
when the truth
remembered
and time stolen
in the static of things
re-gifted
you read me
I watch you
from the other side
drawn to the light
changing channels
a frequent returning
yours eternally
some time
in your future
a frequent returning
yours eternally,
The Motherload
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“A view to remember
the centre is missing
they question
how the future lies
in someone’s eyes”
“We’re older than we realise
in someone’s eyes”
“The gentle collapsing
of every surface
We travel on the
quiet road
The Overload”
Floating under the surface,
stones weighting her body,
gremlins and goblins
were hobbling her soul;
she's full to o'erflowing,
her faculties failing,
she swam with the fishes
and found her way home.
Last Modified: July 28, 2015 at 11:57 pm
© bickerstaffe - all rights reserved
Author Notes
...an epilogue for Virginia Woolf
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Stagecoach Mary
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: January/2014
Mary Fields,
(1832-1914).
born a slave,
somewhere in
Tennessee,
on the
Dunnes
Plantation -
She became
the first
African American
(male or female)
to deliver
the U. S. mail
in
America -
She was
a tall
woman,
over 6 Ft,
and
strong,
weighting
over
two hundred
pounds,
who
didn't shy
away
from
a brawl
or
two
if need
be -
She rolled
cigars,
chewed gum,
drank
plenty whiskey,
and
was famous
for
caring
a pistol,
and
rode a mule
name
Moses -
Mary,
had
also
a
pet
eagle,
and
a
penchant
for
baseball -
She
wore
buffalo
skin
dresses
that she
made
herself -
She
must have
been
an
intimidating
figure
to
behold -
In 1892,
Benjamin Harrison,
was
President -
During
those days,
Wells Fargo,
had
the
U.S. mail
contract,
and
needed
a
stagecoach
driver
with
a
strong will,
and
survival skills
for the
rough route
between
Great Falls,
Montana
to
Fort Benton -
They
chose
sixty year
old
Mary Fields,
who was
more than
capable
of
doing
the job -
It was
rumoured
that
she could
hitch
a team
of
horses
faster than
the boys
half her
age -
Mary,
became
a legend,
tales
of her
adventures
was
well known
in
all the
pioneer towns
of
Central
Montana
and
neighbouring
states -
Her
reliability
and
work ethics,
earned
her
the
name
"Stagecoach,"
Mary,
by
the folks
along
the mail
trail -
Mary,
and
her mule
Moses,
never missed
a day
of
work
in
nine years,
and
was never
held up -
Mary Fields,
retired
in
1901,
paving
the way
forward
for
African
American's
to
follow -
Floating under the surface,
stones weighting her body,
gremlins and goblins
were hobbling her soul;
she's full to o'erflowing,
her faculties failing,
she swam with the fishes
and found her way home.
******
...an epitaph for Virginia Woolf
Skiing Is…
Skiing is…
Alpine thrill ride on four inch boards
Boggy in the bumps – a schuss to the lodge
Carving a turn leaving icy rooster tails in the air
Drag lift to ride on thick moving ropes
Skiing is…
Extreme black diamond runs on endless terrain
Flat hills of green for bunny slopes
Googles of amber for blizzards or flat light
Hardpack and boiler-plate; blue ice and corn snow
Skiing is…
Into the heart of pure mountain splendor
Jet sticks on snowfields under blazing blue skies
Keeping upright avoiding face plants
Lift lines of frustration at chair lifts and gondolas
Skiing is…
Moguls that hide crafty snow snakes
Nordic dance of short swings in fresh powder
Outside skis with a mind of their own
Powder hounds piggin’ through aspen trees
Skiing is…
Quick turns called weidlin from Austrian lore
Runs of legend like K-2 and Exhibition, Wild Child, The Plunge
Sitzmarks the size of a lunar crater
Telemark turns on frosty cross-country trails
Skiing is…
Under the smile of the crystal solstice
Vertical drops into wide open bowls
Weighting unweighting parallel turns
Experts and bunnies apres ski with tall tales
Skiing is…
Yards sales of googles, poles, hats and lost skis
Zest for taking your life in your hands!
2-28-23
I've fallen from grace
Crashed through the sky
Landing crumpled where I lie
My sins are what sent me tumbling
Weighting down my soul.
Wings ripped out
Im bleeding from the scars
I've been cast out forever
My golden halo no longer shines
My sins forever haunt me
Lies, darkness, and empty eyes.
My fall from grace has left me hallow
Wishing for the girl who used to fly
Before the lies
Before the wrong paths my feet followed
My mortal sins confine me
Tormenting me in the form of
Darkness and daemons
which attack me from all sides
As they invade my mind.
If not for being branded on my soul
I'd just wash them all away
Hoped to turn the water black
Cleansing the shadows to light again
Ill live amongst the sinners now
Forced to fight and try to survive
It's my eternal punishment.
Forced to wonder with those like me
Other who have fallen
because of their dark and secret sins
Aging till we die.
Maybe then I'll be forgiven
For the sins written in my soul.
Maybe then in deaths embrace
ill be able to fly again .
My First Kiss
This is something I will remember for the rest of my life. Wow! It was nice.
Of course, it was years ago, but it seems like it was only a moment in time. Yes!
Absolutely fine.
My first kiss made me cry. I often wonder why? No need to lie. It was wet and juicy.
After the first, there was a second, and then a third. I mourned and made unusual
sounds. I was told to hold still and stop acting like a little clown.
No one witness this event, but I remember. It was doing the month of lent. For me, it
was not entertainment. What was I to do? I was smother and covered. I didn’t have
the strength to fight, I couldn’t even take flight. I hear you saying, right! Honestly, it
happened that night.
Now! The real truth. Trust me, I only tell my friends. I was only two, I don’t know about
you. She kept looking down at me. I wasn’t asleep, only afraid to open my eyes and
peak.
As grandmother got closer to my crib, she said “honey baby” give me a big kiss, I began
to twist. My diaper was heavy and weighting me down, I could do nothing but stick
around. Mom and dad were in the living room, I cried and almost died.
Now I know what its like to kiss a fish. Grandma almost sucked the breath out of me.
Her kiss covered my mouth and noise like a giant water hose.
Even today, I don’t like kissing grandma. We touch hands as she fans. For sure! She is
my best girl friend, but I don’t kiss her. Because, she will suck all your wind.
Love you grandma, you are my best girl friend…
Dr. “G”