Best Wreck Poems
II
And did his rash actions give this prince
Cause, in moments of troubling quietude,
To ruefully ponder on all which could not
Be rewound?
A lamentable lack of honourableness and
Uncemented fortitude
Which brought those crashing towers down;
An inevitability borne from the desperation
Of his passions...
So unlike her own desperate passions contained
Inside the hapless extremities of a single gaze.
Her obvious compliance; the tawdriness of this
Sordid contract enabling an old-fashioned
Demand for dutiful obedience...but still betrayed
By a resigned sort of hopelessness. The futility of a
Guilt; his schoolboy-pawing of the tensioned strap;
Your revulsion; his constant bolstering...the
Belittling with that inane, maddening, witless chat.
The last few weeks have been real hard
You see the "dealer of life" deals the cards
As the trials and blessings come and go
It's true we must reap what we sow
At times the trials are many and the blessings are few
Just let the light of your soul shine on through
Yesterday I walked to the bridge over the creek
By the time I got there I was tired and weak
As I sat on the bridge taking a break
Questioning "how much more can I take"
A speeding drunk driver lost control
I watched it unfold nice and slow
Sometimes the blessings are clear to see
They crashed into the rail right next to me
My guardian angel said soft as could be
I'll never give up on you don't give up on me
These last few weeks I have felt rather low
With a deep down emptiness up in my soul
So regardless of the pain or length of the fight
I reckon it's once again time for me to write
For my pen is the tool that I use to see
The power of the Lord working in me
This month she's a singer
in public lewd and crude
pushed into the limelight
and usually half nude
Next month she'll be a model
a drug-addicted child
in and out of courtrooms
another youth gone wild
The latest greatest train wreck
is just another face
she'll rise and fall so quickly
then another takes her place
Each new one tries to outdo
the ones that came before
with even bigger scandals
and troubles by the score
Just 25 and burnt out
used up and thrown away
disposable celebrities
come and go each day
And tragically for some
they lose their very lives
they're just another headline
on which the public thrives
Created in a board room
churned out at record pace
the latest greatest train wreck
has come to take your place
I come here often, stop,
and from the river bank, watch
the ribs of an old wreck break through
the surface on an ebbing tide.
After all this time it still seems
to crave for breath, to air
its last remains.
Whatever past it has
no longer resides in living memory
but in a paragraph inked
in a shipping registry sunk
deep in the basement
of the Maritime Museum,
or is somewhere forever becalmed
in a photograph,
time frozen on a sepia sea.
But this morning I took it in,
gave my mind
to its hollowed out hull
and let imagination
lift it from the mud and make
it whole. I sailed it
out of the suck of time
and set it upon an open sea
and as its sails billowed
across my mind, I got the sense
that throughout all the wear
of passing time,
it had been waiting for me.
(double sijo)
virtuous woman seasoned of life’s wisdom without schism
sex kitten smitten, honey dos omitted, all lies acquitted
having searched wrecked world over… found fickle love… where’s my dove?
~
like a wreck upon sands of salty seas, `Tis God hears my pleas
"Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate."
as hollowed hull awaits true love’s fate… a virtuous mate
==========================================
Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dream weaver
Contest Name In a land called fantasy
I woke up and toked,
wrapped up the little jokes,
and led the flow of traffic on down the road...
I'm not Casper but I sher Boo the mood of plaster,
I'd rather stiff at narks to break cards,
with hard farce,
never gettin' pulled over by the words-
...wait in giant leaps,
I can see the next comin' just down the street!
If it was company I'd meet,
but since they're strangers I creep,
wait in song and sing lead!
You lead!
I am a man,
I am looking at the disease!
Wasted on my knees,
I can wait for eternities,
never caring about the breeze,
the cold shoulder,
or the person that stinks-
its all just a place-
a disastrous phase-
earning loads of lore and lies,
mainlining out of personalities,
so come up and peek,
it could only hurt a little cheek,
why wreck the day when there is cause to play?
You know of tale of Fiona and Shrek.
They had both been human and ogre.
Changing twice, living, loving maugre,
Happily ever after was left in a wreck.
Fairy tales have to end that way for tots.
Society prefers it that way in stories.
Must be loving and living in glories.
However, in reality life has different plots.
Let’s change the ending now for you.
Suppose donkey changes into a prince.
Fiona falls for him then runs away hence.
Shrek has no idea now, of what to do.
Should he hunt for a witch to cast a spell?
Should he terrorize the countryside now?
Should he get a gun, then shoot, POW, POW?
Or just gather up and hide in a big shell.
Donkey now Prince loves Fiona so true.
Fiona loves both of them so very much.
She has a history, major changing and such.
Shrek changed back into an ogre too.
Fiona loved Shrek first though she left.
Then the story takes a strange turn.
Where both males are left to burn,
Fiona changes again by a fairy in a cleft.
Now Donkey as Prince, Shrek as ogre again,
Fiona now loves a male fairy.
She changes her mind, so scary.
Prince Donkey and Ogre Shrek then begin.
Traveling the countryside fighting dragons of fire,
They the bravest fighters of legend today,
Until meeting one female dragon in play
Prince Donkey falls in love with dragons’ desire.
Now Ogre Shrek has no friend to travel along
What had he done to deserve all this wrong?
He shouted outward with a very loud throng.
Next thing he knew he was fighting, King Kong.
Movie Shrek.
Written for
Sponsor John Heck
Contest Name Happily Ever After?
WRECK OF SHIP-AFRICA
Where is the sentiment of those who fought?
When their blood is shed and their story taught
Are we forgetting or we never knew.
Are we going to watch this sheep wreck
O! I cry for the captains are lepers and dread
We need another Christ to save us from ourselves
Life is at stake not for a good and reasoned course
Selfishness and brutality, innocent and the guilty suffers
The strong wage war against the weak without remorse.
Brexit Sonnet No.5
‘To Clothe The Wreck’
A game of chance, the climb to rule this land,
As much a slip of others as trip of yours.
Oft’ ruled by chance events, not thoughts well planned,
Same for freshers new, as time-served bores.
And now we see the cards in shuffled deck,
Prepared again to face the green baize cloth.
Plans anew prepared to clothe the wreck
That’s Brexit, now sad without its champagne froth.
But cards are dog-eared, faded, worn and ripped
With two faced jokers squirming in the pack.
The dealer haggard, drawn and ill-equipped,
Can’t stabilise for strength they plainly lack.
Quantitatively ease this wretched, worn out pile;
Print more talent and from Brexit, please resile.
©Keith Murphy
Violet Jessop, threat ahead
Escaping Poseidon’s death toll’s
“Look after this, will you?” He said
She did, counting down the portholes
First the Olympic’s nurse enrolls
Last, the Britannic’s noon code red
Titanic claimed her shipmate’s souls
Violet Jessop, threat ahead
Miss Unsinkable showed no dread
There as a nurse of many roles
To safety, others she had led
Escaping Poseidon’s death toll’s
The Titanic, tragedy doles
Passed a bundle with tiny head
As he returned to his patrols
“Look after this, will you?” He said
This man was cursed to join the dead
One thing left under her controls
Hold this babe close while others tread
She did, counting down the portholes
Life for her was not grassy knolls
Dreamt of the sea from in her bed
Board the Olympic, heat the coals
The ocean from her veins she bled
Violet Jessop.
March 14, 2023
"Double the Fun" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Written of Violet Jessop otherwise known as Miss Unsinkable or Queen of Sinking ships. She survived the near sinking of the Olympic, the tragedy of the Titanic and the sinking (after being hit by a torpedo) of the Britannic. Following all of this, she returned to working on ships (including the repaired Olympic) until retirement. One more interesting little tidbit I read, 59 years after the Titanic sunk, she got a phone call from the baby she was handed and saved. I thought she had an interesting story to say the least.
This busted broken body-
is not me alying here.
I’ve gone quickly on to Exodus.
You need not shed a tear
Past wrinkled steel and busted glass;
past smoke and pain and fire,
Myself left quickly in the night.
Our Lord did lead me higher.
The ground will hold my broken shell,
but just like my old suit.
It fit me well and good awhile.
Then I outgrew it by a foot!
I need not that used suit.
I need no body now.
My spirit soars amid the stars
with a soft and sparkling glow.
By Annette Gagliardi
*Published in “Awaking to Sunshine” summer of 2000, a Poetry.com publication.
“…know what son, this here trains 'bout to derail, I think I'll be gettin' off real soon. Ya feel this car rackin' from side to side? We're up on two wheels as this here box jumps from one rail to another! I'm tellin' ya, don go holdin' on ta anythin', I don know which way she's gonna go, so when I say jump, ya git yer behind o'er that door there like a hound 'bout ta sink his teeth in ya! Ya hear?!”
As the western bound tracks head into a sweeping arc the right embankment drops away several thousand feet to a verdant green valley below. The engine strains to hold the tracks, but the weight she's hauling is too much and she’s yanked abruptly backward. The sound of metal on metal screams down the mountainside as the first boxcar jumps the track pulling thirty-three others in straight succession into hapless flight, as one man jumps into oblivion.
The other, his mouth the shape of a huge “O” stands frozen at the gaping boxcar door, as he and the stream of loaded cars are suspended, weightless and silent for an eternal moment. In the next moment the cars continue on their downward trajectory and the first car explodes into the rocky earth, followed by five others that plunge and disappear into the first. The remaining line of cars is stacked up, end to end, as a child playing with building blocks that tries to build too tall. The snaking ribbon buckles and the last several cars whip forward, spitting their loads of timber, scrap steel and coal high into the air. The entire screeching stack is crushed together and moves as one in a slow arcing descent as if it were a felled giant ancient tree.
There’s a twelve foot wide, fifteen hundred foot long depression left in the valley floor that runs halfway up the mountainside where that train came to rest. Nothing ever grows in that scar. Only thing living from that wreck is the one telling the tale.
Jeep
Prideful youthful
Bouncing, mudding, leaping
Pride joy junk heap
Tearing, ripping, smashing
Sorry, sad
wreck
There’s a place somewhere
It’s been long forgotten,
Where shades of lilac, cream and white
Fill the foggy world far into the misty sea.
The murky skies with ivory clouds,
Shield it from heavens view.
So that the shells may lie in peace.
Amidst these shattered, clattered shells
Lies a boat which sadly sunk.
The wood decayed,
The frame unchanged.
On which sailors had once,
Ate and drank in company
And walked and readily slept.
They dreamed about the seven seas
And the treasure held by each.
So I close my eyes to see a golden light
Which Illuminates the ship again.
While sailors danced and sang
On that merry drink of rum.
With lyrics of old pirate songs.
Amongst their voices I hear the waves,
They crash beneath my feet.
As the sailor’s songs turn to screams.
Sorrowfully they say goodbye
To their dreams which fill the sky
As they sink unable to fly.
The salty spray splashes my face
And opens up my eyes
Amongst the shattered, clattered shells
I stand again.
And in my sight there it lays
The ship that once had merry sailors
Only now a wreck.
Old Number 9 was heading down the line,
All clickety clack on the railroad track.
It was making time, looking so sublime,
Wore a coat of black on its iron back.
Going round the bend, moving at top end,
The Engineer's eyes spied a big surprise.
And that one detail was a missing rail,
With a lack of ties, was the train's demise.
Now hitting the brake was a big mistake,
It was way too late for the engine's fate.
Flipping on its side, took a gravel ride,
Like a metal plate on an icy grate.
With a hundred cars under twinkling stars,
Showered through the sky, how the sparks would fly.
Followed in its path of colliding wrath,
After savage cry, the caboose would die.
Every broken wheel and this mass of steel,
Was now laid in check on the earthen deck.
With the cargo's pride that was once inside,
Scattered all to Heck, just another wreck.