Contest: where Do Teardrops Go
Sponsor: John Lawless
"...You have collected all my tears in a bottle..."
Bible-Psalms 56:8, NLT.
I know where teardrops go,
Because the Bible tells me so.
Like all the rivers that run to the sea,
Tears also need a place to be free.
Sometimes, our tears may flow gently;
Other times, like white water rapids; Rapidly.
A tear drop is like a letter in a language.
Those tears are flowing with a message.
They are speaking to any who will listen.
Although tears may dry or be wiped away,
There is a refuge place where they may stay.
With his love, God puts our tears in a botttle.
As if i was to take my heart out for you,
it would never be enough to make you mine,
garbage on my skin, and breath from your eyes
its just mystery where you have the role,
where i lose and all the plans in your book of lies
taken by your imaginary act i feel alone but alive
never ask if my head is backwards or just sideways
as the river dries behind our home
where you wash your bloody clothes
day in and day out
have you realized that this movie is over
your pill bottles are empty
your scars still deep from the day before
beatings you took form this ghost
who sits on your bed side
every morning and every night
he is in love with you it was never me.
in freezing winter of the sixties
our house turned frigid
we could hear the wind whistling through the walls
Mom filled empty bleach bottles with hot water
we slept with them to try and keep warm
store-bought hot water bottles were expensive
I do not need them any more
It’s not that Kansas does not get cold
but we keep our heat up and we have two dog-ovens
Athar, Javadhu, colognes of delight,
Brut in a bottle, glass catching light.
Fragrances gather, they fill up the air,
A new look is given to all who wear.
Shapes and sizes, so dainty, so tall,
Perfume parades, I admire them all.
Lovely sprays, tiny pots on display,
Mesmerise seekers who pass by their way.
From Parisian fashion to Gulf’s scented art,
Ancient secrets with herbs play their part.
A jar once closed holds a world inside,
A fragrant breeze with the wind will ride.
Yet when I open, a sneeze takes hold,
Nose in protest, blocked and bold.
All ends in rain of sneezes untold—
As I’m allergic to perfumes.
Dull endless sights and slow restless nights
Oh the magnitude stifles the eyes
Parboiled schemes and tar soiled dreams
Soon your rifle attitude replies
Quick Draw McGraw, we know, you've done it all
That means your temper is semper tonight
You're so quick on the draw, how quickly they fall
When each night in some bar room you fight
Your throttle's in red, beer bottles and lead
Slinging bullets and bottles of brew
One's quicker with lead, and you find yourself dead
Just a stranger that nobody knew
A perfume bottle’s shape and size may dictate what you buy.
So pretty and so colourful all pleasing to our eye.
But then again it will depend on contents, and its smell.
A little sniff that we all take, is often how we tell.
Some perfumes that we really like, are ones we use each day.
A quirt upon our neck and wrist, is mostly where we spray.
Ensuring then we do replace the perfume bottle lid.
So, the perfume does not dry up, a crime we must forbid.
Our perfume bottles have their place, look pretty in a row.
So lovely that we feel we must, put them all on show.
But when the perfume does run out, the bottles rarely keep.
Instead, we buy another one, on special when it’s cheap!
Most perfumes cost a fortune, cannot believe their price.
Upon the shelf they beckon us, in bottles looking nice.
Designer brands, like Cartier, Lancome, Dior, Chanel
Attractive to our senses, they all have a lovely smell.
So yes, I do like perfume, many bottles I do own.
A perfume tragic I’ll remain; have even tried Cologne.
I feel complete, with a squirt, a different one each day.
Then replace the lid quite firmly, so I don't lose my spray.
In my wake, if i were to awaken,
O' wakeful wonder to wrench mine withered eyes
Aware'f the withering summer haze
Out in my bright eyed future, out in my cross toe'd path
Pompous poppies t'prop mine withering body
Lest f'saken soil shall chance this chance and enwrap thy very soul
Whole, wholly in unholy disrepair
Where thy feet ne'er make a pair
In my wake, where bottomless bile surely shalln't sate,
Grace be with grace whereth fate form'd nigh near'r thy hate
voracious, inherent, timbered'n barrels
Embedded beneath thy bedded tomb t'ferment
Fraught feminal petticoats bed thy bones'n skin, t'sit within
Barrelled quarrels quashed'n quaint fricatives,
T'lace these afaced wicked motives.
Foot befitting feet b'fore foolish faces reverberate foolish vows
F'petty petticoats liven' lieu'f laced love.
In my latent wake,
Tend t'the petty posies
T'prop mine body
Towards th'lascerating ladle'f love,
And into th'deepening dish'f self-hate.
24//8//25
You once had a pretty plan
To get by on your father’s name
Which would be awful funny
If it wasn’t such a shame
A tiger in a backyard zoo
Is a twisted parody
Raging in a tiny room
With the smashed up likes of me
I too had flights of fancy
Turned to dust and ash
But we’re all broken bottles here
Swept and bound for trash
Noli sinere te deprimere
Yes this too shall pass
All this time and tumult
Returns us as sea glass
July 13, 2024
A quake took place
between my shoulder blades
teeth ground to dust behind my face
the scraping of tectonic plates
scared me to my hiding place
bottles and blankets, a child’s space
it cannot withstand the shakes
that are now all too commonplace.
Reds white sweets and dry
celebrating 50 years
Happy Birthday to me
(plan for next year!)
Quite awful had been the gossip:
About a widening girl's hip.
"Why would it not Holy Men trip
And apart the toughest skirt rip?"
Quite idle had been the gossip:
About Eves' wears eyes could off strip;
From speaker worker's sweat drip,
Sometimes, audience clammy hands grip
Gossipy lips that could wine sip;
There were hands who could his glass tip!
Lips good at digging a deep pit:
Its shovels never made a slip...
As the gist gets sweeter lost zip,
Stabbing Truths and lies bit by bit
Their source, sure, is getting a tip,
As a hip keeps receiving whip!
Lasted it had two hours,
Round the indulged bottles flowers
From bottled feed soon after birth
To liquor in a lifetime’s mirth,
To blest bottled water
When at death breaths falter,
Oh bottles rife till one with earth!
_______________________________
Reflections | 01.12.2017, recast Jan 2023 | on life
Poet’s note: I had the misfortune to see an old acquaint dying some time back. He had lost mother soon after birth. Milk bottles in lieu of mother nourished his early life. A single father, who could not quite be the mother, raised him as a child. Wasted childhood saw him to grow as a careless youth, liquor his constant companion. When I saw a few drops of bottled Ganges water administered to him as the last rite, it made me reflect on life. Don’t go by the rather flippant tongue of a limerick, see the irony of life.
A vision of cheerful serenity and pleasures of life
My peace of mind comes to me in a dream.
Of white and red checkered linen cloths
Spread Across a picnic table
as far as the eye can see
baskets brimming with delights.
A remarkable assortment of cheeses
And crusty loafs of homemade bread
With apricot jelly to spread
moving through the misty ether of my dream
I reached my hand in the basket.
And grab.
A loaf of bread
as I stirred around in the basket
searching for the jelly to spread
I heard a familiar welcoming sound.
Of clinking and ringing and a clanking
And ringing and clanking clinking
It was music to my ears.
And comfort to my soul
As I instantly discovered, several rare bottles
Of vintage wine that was carefully stowed
By the mighty gods of my Olympic dreams
A contented warmth came instantly over me.
As I find myself sitting
Under a scented pine tree in cheerful serenity,
With eternal peace of innocent mind
And several rare bottles of vintage wine.
Stay hydrated for health and weight
daily drink bottles of water around eight
Help stay off hunger and keep you slim
but you better keep a nightlight when
The urge will surge for a liquid purge
up all night to pee, sleeping a memory
Up again to that porcelain bowl
all night get up to go go go
Eight bottles of water, water
Eight bottles of water, water
You'll lose weight by drinking eight
by going and going as the night escapes
The day to sleepy to even eat
lose some weight and vow to keep
Don't forget and remember why
drink eight bottles of water aye aye aye
Eight bottles of water, water
Eight bottles of water, water
You'll lose weight by drinking eight
by going and going as the night escapes
from muck sprung all life.
when we fade, we return there.
refurbished hogshead
Written: March 19, 2022
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