Long Calamity Poems
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He slept in the bath when he was drunk
Slept so long he went and shrunk
Down down down to such a size
He couldn’t be seen by human eyes
His wife saw the bath and with a shrug
Slipped in one arm and pulled the plug
She didn’t do it with any intent
But down the drain he silently went
He’d never ever learned to swim
So that was the last she saw of him
Gone for ever that unhappy soul
Swept out to sea down a plug hole
After a while she married his friend
So for her his story had a happy end
There’s a moral to his end if you think
Be careful when and where you drink
Or you could meet such a bad end
Down the plug and round the bend
Through the sewers on a bumpy ride
Then out to sea on the rising tide
Maybe to provide a succulent dish
For a shoal of hungry hunting fish
Perhaps the the irony of such a lost life
Served with peas and chips to your ex-wife.
I had financially fallen on very difficult times,
and had to sell many of my valued treasures,
including twenty rolls of uncirculated dimes.
To get the best bids, I'd taken great measures.
Most valuable was a glass sculpture of Earth,
but only be sold without taking it apart.
There had never been an estimate of its worth
and letting it go at auction was breaking my heart.
I had it very clearly stated in the contract deal
that once the gavel struck, it belonged to the buyer.
The status of my insurer signed it with his seal,
and that information was revealed in an auction flyer.
The bidding began and only one paddle was raised.
Four thousand dollars was insulting for this artwork,
although the Baccarat sculpture was not appraised.
I looked pleadingly at the patient auctioneer, Kirk.
What a calamity if I didn't receive a larger price.
My hopes suddenly began to plummet to a new low
I had no belongings left to sell, nothing to sacrifice.
I didn't know where to turn after this financial blow.
Then, a phone bid came in at ten thousand pounds
"Going once, twice.... SOLD! " Kirk had done his job.
But the buyer backed out. I asked, "On what grounds?"
They sent me to an office where I met a guy named Bob.
He said the bidder hadn't read all the terms of shipping
and that he was afraid the fragile sculpture would shatter.
Legally, the sale was binding. The buyer must be tripping
if he thought I'd let him out of the purchase, it didn't matter.
A deal was a deal, and he was now the brand-new owner
of A Baccarat global sculpture that weighed nearly a ton.
He didn't read the fine print, and now he was a groaner.
Finding a way to move that gigantic piece that he'd won.
Later that day, I received a cashier's check for the money.
The eccentric buyer wanted it for his wife, and to be gifted
to her on her next birthday. Turned out, he thought it funny
and would install it in their greenhouse if they got it lifted.
Though gloomy, devoid of brightness’ stain,
Beyond the firmament… God sees me languishing in pain…
...with my heart pleading for His miracle to gain.
I praise Him… since from the sky,
He spreads to me His loving domain!
Though showing environmental discomfort,
Beyond the clouds… God hears me seeking for divine aid and support…
…with my cry begging for His help, my ultimate resort.
I thank Him… that from the sky,
He presents Himself as the steadfast fort!
Though radiating with stars so rare,
Beyond the earthly heaven… God knows me needing urgent care…
…with my soul longing for His assured welfare.
I worship Him… as from the sky,
He opens His throne where at His blessings I stare!
Though it seems to predicts calamity,
Beyond the space above… God understands me agonizing in my infirmity…
…with my faith clinging to His security.
I trust Him… for from the sky,
He assures His sovereign authority!
*Mark 11:22 And Jesus answering saith ... Have faith in God.
May 26, 2018
Edited on June 16, 2018
1st Place, "Late June 2018 Standard..." Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 6/21/2018.
A day to forget
It was a rotten day from the start, got up late
feeling as if he had not slept at all and the night had been dreamless
all his phobias leak into his dream, making the day
easier to endure.no point turning on the TV, same old stuff wars
It is easy to stop a war but near impossible to stop
and this war is a conflict about values.
He made a coffee but had no milk, and the toaster didn’t function
ate a banana instead; versatile fruit easy to eat
and not as fattening as slimming prophets say.
They were having lunch at a Scandinavian club it was dark
looked like a den for unhappy escapists, angry people talking
critically about the country they had chosen to live in.
They ate stew at a local café, and a fly landed on his wife’s food
she is a hypochondriac who claimed she had been poisoned
hauled her into the car, which had a parking sticker.
When she felt better after her brush with calamity, he drove
her to a nail bar, while waiting he played the radio
When he started the car, the battery was flat.
At the cradle of my nightmares,
My future is a horror film,
I track my ghosts,
Like a junkie in withdrawal.
I am a true clandestine calamity,
A mass grave of silent suffering,
A candelabra of pain soothed by dirty money,
I hate the human race,
And I will never have a pet.
I am a loner addicted to silence.
I only write in the dark, to deathly sounds.
A mix of gloomy feelings,
I walk in the darkness of my imperfections,
My hands are no longer innocent,
Since I’ve handled weapons of war.
I am a child of the slums of the third world,
I know perfectly the orifices of misery.
Another damn sleepless night spent monologuing in the darkness of this cold room,
The devil covers his ears to the atrocities spilling from my confessions.
I’ve already used gunpowder
For a firework on the edge of legality.
I never agreed to sleep on an empty stomach,
I’ve risked my freedom since I was ten.
I’ve learned to walk among hungry beasts.
I’m already at war with my demons,
I know I’ll end up in the flames.
I know I have no right to trust a human being,
Being a slave to shine is impossible.
My enemies squat in my imperfect flesh.
I don’t smoke crack,
I don’t smoke cannabis,
I don’t snort cocaine,
I don’t drink alcohol,
I sometimes burn a few cigarettes.
I avoid psychotropics,
I’m not a poet,
Just a tormented mind,
Prisoner of infernal loops,
Where murder scenes repeat endlessly.
My tears stopped flowing down my cheeks
Since I saw my friend crushed by a logging truck.
I am an angry man with murderous impulses,
I commit suicide each time in this same nightmare that has repeated since my childhood.
I’m approaching fifty,
I’ve stopped meditating on the whims of the reaper,
I’ve stopped wandering in graveyards.
Let the universal force show mercy on my impure, tainted soul
By the poisons of lust,
I accumulate transgressions to have a throne in the furnaces of hell.
I don’t believe in paradise, but I know I’ll burn in the abyss’s celestial flames after my twilight.
A deep philosophical reflection in the ramblings of my delirium.
I hate the spotlights like those criminals on the run,
Too many regrets hidden in the closets,
A clean criminal record like the entrails of Christ’s mother.
I blaspheme to darken my divine fragment.
Religion in the public square is becoming an endangered species. - Mathew Staver
the lavender moon, in silhouettes of blue
paint my thoughts in melodies,
hues of grace and gentle peace, silent flow
tulips, roses, lilies blowing in the wind,
who breaths her hope across the meadow,
laughing, dancing, singing wistful
in trembling verses, stirring the delicious
vision of gifted words, healing
hopes that break away from the past
shatter the shadows with an overcast sky,
burdened by melancholic gray,
broken by the memories who prey
on the spirit, the soul, the wisdom of a knowing…
dressed in aster’s kiss, flames of gold
hesitating, burning away the doubts,
flavoring the heart with a feeling,
flowing beyond the still, cool crispness
autumn’s elation, praising, amazing
chanting to the moon, the stars
blessing the thoughts of those who hear her,
whispering, rustling through September,
passing by the rust colored truths,
embracing the silence and erasing the fear,
who comes to those hearts
listening to the rarest crackling of a tear,
edged in grief, distant calamity…
testing the waters, challenging the thoughts
who hear her mysteries,
unconscious bias, darkening the wings
who soar over the dreams,
fighting back the urge
to forget the joy that sees
through the catastrophic brink
insanity, the folly
beneath the doubts, the fears
tears blended with salty songs,
quietly pleading, praying, praising
because He is never wrong
His love leaves the moment calm,
soothes away the distant panic,
replacing her phobia
with assurance… He is silent,
while blessings fall over the spirit,
in secret promises, forever
written on the heart who sees Him,
in the secret places, always
saving souls from the darkness
of eternity without hope,
eternity without love…
unconscious bias tells me, forever
I’ll sing the song of thanksgiving
because, with this love He reveals
I know what it is to be fulfilled,
I know what it is to be assured,
I know what it is to be loved,
with love that is my soul’s joy,
love that is the moment I knew
the light of the world,
the light that is pure,
the light that glows so I know
the wonder of reflecting the love
that grows and grows…
so I know – He is living, deep in my soul!
There were wolves, coyotes and wildcats:
all fighting for supremacy in vast grasslands,
but envy made them greener than grass and harder than rock...
trying to break up the alliance between the rabbit and the fox.
Morning came without delay as light shone on the dusky, sea-weeded reefs;
they silently gathered behind the tallest weeds resembling hungry beasts,
hoping they'd pass by and entrap them and have a meal...
and they waited many hours to make that imagined kill.
How could they outsmart a rabbit with his agility
and a fox with his shrewdness? Their plot had to have ingenuity
to make them fall for that something they desperately craved...
and what was it they were looking for? Was it flesh they desired?
These two harmless animals looked out for each other ,
any unfamiliar sound or noise would make them shiver
and alarm them to keep a sharp eye on anything that moved...
even a gecko climbing rocks would would make them feel awkward.
And the shy rabbit and the sly fox gave a hint to hunters,
pointing where they were hiding: in the shade of poison oaks;
not knowing that they would have a mad rash so unexpected...
they ran chased by a dozen of dogs as the rabbit and foxed reveled.
The wolves, coyotes and wildcats vowed revenge, if they ever escaped;
no rabbit or fox would survive in their territory...if they were found
snoozing under the shady wildflowers or on the top of logs:
they'd surely be the perfect treat for their growling stomachs!
The rabbit and the fox finally enjoyed their freedom and loyalty
by planning a more effective strategy despite fret or calamity.
I start my day with the rising sun,
Got a lot of work before the day is done,
Back breaking and mind racing again,
I may stumble every now and then,
Tossed in the air with no direction,
Caught in the hand of Mercy with no protection,
Smacked back down and my shells' shattering,
Pick up the pieces while I'm drowning in them,
Glue them back with silence and pain
That's just me in the eye of a hurricane.
All these words in my head, only static when I speak,
I'm cracked like an egg, if you want to catch a peek,
Take your look inside, Wanna go for a ride?
Let's take a leap and go really deep,
Be wary of the things you find,
Grab your drink, weed and shrooms,
This is the ride of the undying bloom,
Enough of the gloom, bring on the hype,
Don't stop now cause you're seeing the light,
Keep on going through the dead of night,
Where Demons fly and Chaos reigns,
This is my mind as a hurricane.
These voices pulling me left and right,
Trying to tear my soul just to hear it cry,
Only to be met with screams and laughter,
Hidden are the fires of pleasure doused in the misery of pain,
Burning bright are the pillars of calamity,
Casting shadows down on all insanities,
Ripped away are friends and family replaced with insecurities,
Fighting on and on till the battle wanes,
This is my soul as a hurricane.
I'm keeping my feet on the ground, my head in the sky,
Fighting day and night, one step at a time,
Holding my ground as the wind whips by,
Keep my calm or let the storm rage,
Just dog ear and turn the page,
Let the sun set on this day, the moon rise on this night,
I got no fear for the day I die, All I can do is today,
And take yesterday's pain, make it tomorrows' gain,
When I'm living life in the eye of a hurricane.
I will not run from fear. Its torment I must shun,
when it threatens with distress and intimidation.
No song of despair will I sing when day is done,
nor will I cower, cringing with grim trepidation.
Though calamity assails me, I will not be alarmed.
Courage and faith will justly serve as my citadel
until the menacing enemies have been disarmed.
Then, in serene existence, once more will I dwell.
I will not burden my heart by anchoring it in grief.
Life should be a celebration, a mirthful affair,
but everything I fear will steal my joy like a thief.
I choose not to squander a minute in dire despair.
Death will not find me trembling on my knees,
for it's the dreaded price I must pay for mortality.
I will not plea with the Reaper, only to appease
him in granting me one more day before finality.
I will tend my garden on these hot Summer days,
and rejoice in knowing Autumn's chill draws near.
I will welcome Winter snows with words of praise,
and await Spring's arrival without anguish or fear.
August 12, 2022
Strong Emotions Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Emotions highlighted are fear and despair
Hiromita your domicile lies in wait
Make haste to your earthly gate
Earth shakes bold; steady your
estate
Ocean's waves, briny stew doth
impregnate
Shelter your crops; your chicken
coop insulate
Another tremor, with calamity
don't equate
With phosphorous-laden breezes
your senses fondly relate
With a steady compass, another
storm you'll navigate
Your indestructible hearth is
melded to malleable plate
Many times battered; but never
did obliterate
Your parents bid adieu, but you
must wait
Dispensing the stores as an
efficient magnate
Your spindly wife shares your
passive fate
No time her tendered fealty to
contemplate
With due speed she puts away
each sack, crate
Then both ascending to the upper
floor the tides to mitigate
Home buttressed; hopes, dreams
still ingratiate
Looking windoward, a dark,
towering mass doth peril insinuate
You turn inward hoping your fears
to attenuate
The merciless surge rolls; you
clasp hands the force to abrogate
The black debris wave slams your
home, the pummeled timbers
capitulate
Your filial bond doth sever; your
domesticated world annihilate