Written By: D. Collins 4/3/25
We are losing friends and losing them fast.
As far as trust goes, we’re running dead last.
We leave our allies hanging and citizens overseas.
Spend enormous resources focused on deportees.
Don’t get the impression America has your back.
You are “Diss-illusioned” if you believe that.
If you offer nothing to pad pockets of the rich.
You, and your country will likely get dissed.
There’re provocative tariffs and pensions bottoming out.
Everything nosedives when Trump opens his mouth.
We’re in a world of hurt that will only get worse.
After the recession let’s see if America’s First?
Categories:
bottoming, political,
Form: Crown of Sonnets
Descending into madness, drop by drop,
The senses dulled till mindless, naught perceived.
A subtle slide that ne’er rests ‘gainst a stop,
Till bottoming, the soul is much aggrieved.
No purchase then, when fingers claw the wall,
Attempting to escape the self-induced,
And were to gain a step, would surely fall,
Returning to his vomit, still seduced.
Contrite, one might assume a posture prone,
Not rage, with shaking fist against the sky.
To plead, to beg, be at a mercy thrown,
Resigned at last, not proud, with head held high.
The more remarkable, on face of it:
A hand lent down, redeeming from the pit.
----------
for the A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
sponsored by Brian Strand
written on 06/15/2022
Categories:
bottoming, addiction,
Form: Sonnet
"Sliddery via Ross" the signpost says,
at Monamore, where once there stood a mill.
A rustic bridge, a burn, the scene conveys
but little of the travails of the few
from whose imaginings and dreams so long ago
an edifice uniquely beautiful they grew.
Of elegant design, so grand and tall,
admired it was, and loved, by one and all.
So proud it stood, o'erlooking Lamlash Bay.
Its backdrop was the Ross, a bonny hill.
Close by, the smoky clachan known as Croc,
adjacent to the burn which powered the mill.
Idyllic was its setting, pride of place,
famed artists did this lovely scene embrace.
But so-called progress was a contradiction,
leading to neglect and dereliction.
Its sculpted sandstone walls now grim outlines,
a home to dripping moss and grassy ferns,
the roof collapsed, its sorry shell exposed
to all the elements, the mill returned
to nature, and the earth from which it came.
A hazard now, and who must take the blame?
Its demolition caused much muttering.
That lovely mill is now road bottoming.
Categories:
bottoming, beauty, loss,
Form: Rhyme
Oogeling ouggulluurzz,
Fidgety fogging verse!
Peoples are nodding to their words,
beats aren't so bumpy
so they blotter on burbs...
Seasoning at saunter,
as he wander wanders-
bottoming the plotter who thinks its
'why bother?'
As a holy day walker
streamin' the fodder,
Poly pulls the jog on her,
says 'yes we'll get knocks
to twist turns-
silly like talks in the chik_burns,
and the whispers'.
Categories:
bottoming, atheist, brother, city, class,
Form: Light Verse
How does one touch sky
Earthen below falls out
Reaching down to die
Praying up to cry
How does one hear God
Heaven above falls down
Screaming angels lie
Bottoming out of this
How does one have faith
Hellish below bellows out
Beckoning an evil wraith
Sputtering into this
God comes down from sky
Angels trumpets call out
Reaching hands going up
Seeking righteousness
How one does have faith
When he is holding on
Outward demons go
Onward so you must
Categories:
bottoming, faith,
Form: Rhyme
ABSTRACTIONS II
Out on the fringes
Beyond speculation
Beyond deep cobalt blue
Bottoming out
Rising to infinity
To sunless east, west
Where long since had appeared
The golden, hazy light
This is where my spirit’s fancy has strayed
Expecting blackness,
Many shades beyond night
I am surprised
For there is music
Music of unimaginable depth and sweetness
And there are colors
This circular rainbow of known and unknown colors
And there is transcendent peace
The soul seeming to float
There is love
And infinite truth
Categories:
bottoming, introspection,
Form: Free verse
Mongrel, I smell you miles away
Returning through the dingy dark
From rummaging waste and decay
Till you putrid like them, can mark
A skunk's trail home. What germ you breed
Now to infect my pure desire,
O mangy bag of foul, dank weed,
You sodom of sulfurous fire
I hate your lying promise, hate
The harlot cankering my fate.
But what bone your slobbering would not drink
What dark would I not pull you to the grass
I long to plunge in you, the roots that sink
Bottoming decay. For time wretched pass
'Til that scent that frown's the nose rejoice my lips
And we our two germs kiss, with mine to last
Through shaking thighs to your sweet swelling hips
Then on your breasts delicious breaks its fast
Our two fires burn one sacrifice, and love is found
Where the jealous heart have fondled its deepest wound.
Categories:
bottoming, passion,
Form: Rhyme
DEVIL GALE NOR'EASTER
Relinquishing my right to being sane,
tis none-the-less God given to my brain,
the very hope, while on this restless sea,
so into dark, and where a gale must be,
I'll stay my course, into the driving rain;
into the howling wind; into the night,
through white caps higher than my line of sight,
the bellowing less than two fathoms mark,
close to the bottoming to Neptune's dark,
but I must steer my ship, to what is right!
Though I may know the brine is shallow here,
along the coast, and know the rocks are there,
to dare my vessel, have a pleasant trip!
up devil's shore, they hope to dash my ship
and sink me to the depths, to disappear.
Blow hard! Nor'easter! You'll not put me down!
My ship is fit, I've heard your dying sound!
Now I can see the rising of the sun,
in streaks of light, predicting you are done!
And I have sailed this night to solid ground!
© ron wilson aka Cap'n Vee Bdosa
Categories:
bottoming, adventure, angst, art, black
Form: Iambic Pentameter
around and around and around it all spins
hitting the bottom without bottoming out
just when I think it is done now for good
up to the top it all bubbles again
the effervescence with all of the fizz
I thought was flat, left without the cap
I guess it doesn't quite work out that way
it still tickles my nose when it's going in
the taste is so sweet as I drink it down
I can feel the burn like Coke has in my throat
I'm switching to diet, that's all there is
it will still taste good without adding a pound
Categories:
bottoming, funny
Form: Verse
The first concern: mysterious babies.
Please let's turn to a new perplexion:
the emergence of the grown-up things.
Alzheimer's, or catching rabies?
Faint, like changing fashion bouts?
or a sudden busting-at-the-gut.
Lazy clouds plumping up
or a piñata thundercloud bottoming out?
Consider this working theory of mine:
the great, petrified, adult spine
evolves on eons of childish pining;
horses rue the portly giraffe.
Or - it is a soundless exchange;
we enter blind the portal of sleep.
Slippers, oblivious, on welcome heat:
two charring wisps in an innocent furnace…
You told me, once, that sheep dream of people-
people dream of sheep and fences in a giant
dance like the earth and sun and years, be patient,
count one-two-three (fall asleep).
But I continue to burst from cakes
for my own overgrown sakes-
to breath the knowledge of wishes.
Categories:
bottoming, confusion, funny, life, mysterydream,
Form: Free verse