Bottom(A) Poems | Examples

nethermost

rock bottom a euphemism at best
sunken feeling of a leaden balloon
deflated burst into shrapnel of fears

they say it’s when you stop digging
the circumference of the black hole
larger than your inflated Ego mania 

and then the trap door opened for more
the chisel engaged in vigorous overdrive
what a life to be had or thrown away

a rescue team waited concerned and patiently
maybe they knew better than the protagonist
of his own demise at the crossroad of pain

philosophy studies had not prepared him 
nor had his grandma with her solid advice
lonely and dejected he continued to slip

out of reach even the abyss seemed distant
in dreams of death not entirely unpleasant
he understood that control was inaccessible 

letting God became the only viable option
reluctantly he considered faith and acceptance
grudgingly at first let go of selfish command

The Bible

The emerald field of magnificent alps. 
variety of colours radiating with brilliant effusion.  
infinite beauties melting to the admiration of one. 
depth overreaching all the boundaries of fickle fin.
pleasant jewels knotted by the Master of all knowledge. 
A vast sphere mapping out discordant planes of  time and eternity.
all the paths in concurrent course pointing to The Way,
with its  pillars firmly grounded on the  Truth,
come see the winding rivers with unalterable course to The Ligh.
A mine without a bottom, a sea without a shore. 
inexhaustible depth beyond the pretenses of all tinsel 
the well of eternal realities incomparable with  earth's shadows   
break your ego to grasp this golden pearl 
let not jewels gather dust in the shelve,
Take and read to know thyself and thy God 
and like the ox, drink it down to find Peace.

Key To Success Fable

A crow was tired flying the whole day
in the scorching summer sky of parched May,
searching relentless for some food,
became thirsty to the bone like a log of dry wood.

On the flight back to the distant nest,
through the shades of falling dusk to take rest,
it spotted a pitcher lying beneath a barren tree,
at its bottom a little trace of water it could see.

It thrust the seeking beak deep within downward,
but couldn’t reach the water even trying hard,
and was about to give up for it was getting dark,
when it was struck by the flash of an idea spark.

It dropped small stones in the pitcher one by one,
didn’t stop for a while until the work was done,
for the water level slowly started to rise high,
and it quenched the thirst with a satisfied sigh.

"Persistence is the key to success, come what may,
out of any problem there’s always a way".

______________

February 10, 2021
Contest : Fabled Musings
Sponsor : Joseph May

Waterfall

Water cascading over stairs of stone
Quietly thundering whoosh of glistening blur
Cool and sweet, giddy and dizzy, falling free
Tumbling, swirling, whirling in the warm sunlight
Plunging, splashing, crashing, spiraling downward
Over roughly smoothed rocks of time…

Exploding at bottom; a shower of white, color and light, joy and ecstasy
Settling to flow; swiftly slow, calmly crazy stream
Rolling over rocks, under trees, through day and night
‘Round bends, twisting and turning
Flowing ever onward to eternity and beyond…

Two souls, two spirits, mated, intertwined, awash in each other
Joined forever, mingled together, shaken and stirred
Blithely dancing, blissfully chancing, romancing
Surging rush of passion pulsing, body trembling
Wildly beating heart jumping, spinning head thumping
Two eyes; warm dark pools, soft and sweet – inviting…

S P L A S H, over the falls!
I fell in, submerged in total beauty
I fell in love

Dreamscape

A deep pit, a crumbling edge,
at the bottom, a pool swarming with sauropods.
There is someone, a boy.
I shouldn't have taken the child here.
I'm slipping, taking him with me;
he won't let go of my hand.
We are sliding on the scree.
A gun heavy on my hip,
its weight drags us down,
to where saw-toothed muggers
thrash in a melee.

It's then that I transition.

I’m a visitor, two-dimensional
in a hurrying cityscape.
I've lost my car
in one of many similar concrete blocks.
Home is a door in the back of my mind
A door not opened yet, I suspect behind it
is a child who knows his way back.
He’s holding a tin wind-up crocodile,
one his dad once bought him.
At his side a revolver,
the same type I purchased
in Florida
in the event of alligator attack.

Diabla Amarilla

what is
this thing

close up
very shapely

but taken in
from a distance

sheer terror contorts
my face like Munch's

Scream and i do
scream now seeing

understanding contrast
of color her skin darkening

knowing now the meaning
of the bikini as she faces me

from afar i see her top as if
horns and her bottom a smile

thinking Lovecraft could not
even imagine the demon before me

Freelancer's Lifestyle: the Deficiencies Iv

Every man with a sense of purpose has what he wants: a homeowner – a homeownership; a slickster, as slick as a public pool’s bottom, – a public pool; a villain – curses; a hero – a commemorative plaque on the wall of the house wherein he lived for a quarter century with his miserable marriage. I want nothing, ergo, I have nor marriage, nor curses, nor plaque, nor homeownership. I have no pool either.

Here we have an illustration of the deficiencies of a freelancer's lifestyle.

Sandals the Best Pair In the World

If this World is in wisdom means ladies and gents are intelligent.They both walk on the land of knowledge.But in pairing as husband and wife how many conflicts?Male domination a root cause in some cases of separation from life,building a wall of hate between the two hearts.Dress in sense,saying they wear a hat top on head, bottom a pair of Sandals on foot to walk on dirt and dust.How many in between top to bottom? Why they are ignoring to learn what the pair of sandals on their very foot teaching?They come in pairs,same in color,same size covering right and left like husband and wife.If one to one differs the other won’t last.These Sandals on foot occupies the place of Men and Women with heads in becoming the best pair of the world!

The Third Bowl

I've a crystal bowl gifted to me by a devil.
Long before I was born or so they tell me. 
It overflows with gems and other shiny things.
Things that seduce the sanity.
They come and go as they please.
In life there should be less of these things.

I've another bowl made of earth and stone.
Gifted to me by an angel.
Long before I was born or so they tell me.
On the bottom, a single pebble of sanity.
Amidst feathers and minted leaves.
I pray it'll stay for eternity.
In life there should be more of these.

there's a third bowl in my mist
filled with unknown things
a gift from anonymous Gods?
I'm unsure of what to think


a bowl of bitter... a bowl of sweet...
a bowl of unknown things
in the dusty cupboards of parquet dreams

Halitosis

She rushed to me and gave my bottom a kiss
I was disturbed something went badly amiss
I asked her the reason
Of this loathsome treason
She said with the rue" a pure halitosis."

Perhaps An Angels Was Sent

Saying to her bestfriend that she never felt so lost
Not knowing if she could mend her life just tossed
There was nothing at all left but this one silver cross
This was life biggest theft for it was all a total loss

He seen those deep welling tears his heart so heavy
Realizing all those fears he never thought he'd see
There standing side by side, devastation everywhere
Well she just cried in being more than she can bare

After standing there a while reality slowly sinking in
Looking through a big pile and all hope wearing thin
A glimmer catching her eye as they both began to dig
At the bottom a Cross would lie it being about ya big

He looked up at her and immediately a meeting of eyes
For them it just seemed to occur in making them realize
Together, they found that Cross realizing what it meant
Both lucky to still be around perhaps an Angel was sent

In Plain View

There in plain view a secret box
That held all his letters
Remants of your favorite flower
One to like, well never 

At the bottom a plane ticket
To a destination
Undesired, frozen Alaska
Total aberration

Why hold onto dead love letters?
Or his favorite flower
An unused plane ticket crackled_
Why reminisce this hour 

So different this strange couple
In flowers, expressions
Held together by a secret box
A unique possession

Within that box sealed away; things
Some bad these which they sling
Forget their existence, buried
Now that secret box cling

Cling to every precious moment
A love that lasted through
Good times and bad, hard times and sad
Divine love story true

Inspired by: Laura Loo's Contest_Combination of Three Phrase_Poetry
Written: January 02, 2016

I Had a Dream

Oh, it's just nothing, really, 
Well, I once dared to dream,
It was crazy, a wistful whim
And I earned misery for my folly.

When you reach for the star
The fall usually is steep
You get hurt, you weep
And you wage a losing war.

I was cocky and I was rich
And I walked with a strut,
But then I fell on my butt
Just as fame was within my reach.

Oh, it only hurts when I sit,
But then I sit quite so often,
So I carry a cushion to soften
my bruised bottom a wee bit.

Not mine, it's someone else's tale...
Oh, OK! It is my silly story,
But I am fine, not to worry
All is well if the 'end' is well!


~"Just within reach" contest by John lawless

Hourglass, Spindle and Lifeless Doll

A string wrapped around a spindle
Unwinding as an hourglass marks time
Sand trickles  to the chamber below
Marking the moments of my life 
Questioning “have you truly lived”
The sound of silence drives me mad
The hourglass drags me back in time
I relive the nightmare of my dread 
Memories that should never be
The torture chamber of his design
Unraveled bits intertwined
Screams strangled by the darkness
Night terrors
Rocking to my internal beat
Feeling an ache too deep to express
Betrayal
Confusion
I cannot protect her from him
She seems so small
Holding that lifeless doll
Rocking there on this floor
We share that same internal beat
Together we cry
Together we rock
As the clock strikes midnight 
Silence breaks
I am dragged forward
The hourglass sits motionless on his desk
at the bottom a pile of white sand
If only time could truly stop
After winding the string back onto the spindle
I start rocking again
Alone here in the dark
Thinking of her lifeless doll.

The End of June

On a beautiful June morning very early we made our way down to the fields,
The men had scythes to ring in all the bustle for the annual hay harvests,
We were a merry bunch and we stripped down to the waist in sunburnt groups,
At close of day we sat down in the deep cool grass of a hidden shady valley.

A cool stream clear as glass the shadows on the stream rippled and danced,
The shadows reflected circles of light on the stony bottom, a perfect day,
On the small bank an azure crowfoot waves to you in an evening light breeze,
The purple comfrey goes one better and dips its leaves in the crystal spring.

Hanging over the babbling stream branches droop over weighed by chestnuts,
We pick gooseberries, currants, ripe strawberries as the month slips away,
The cuckoo's departs and as a dark tinge of evening comes, glow worms glow,
We walk to our homes happy and tired over sweet bails of hay, lovely days.

• Short Bottom(A) Poems
• Famous Bottom(A) Poems
• Best Bottom(A) Poems
• Read Bottom(A) Poems
• Long Bottom(A) Poems
• Bottom(A) Quotes