I hit the spot.
I marked it with a dot.
It's my spot—
An 'X' ringed.
A bullseye claimed,
filled with jet black ink—
Not a blot with rough edges that seep out,
but one with a sharp outer perimeter.
It's a point pretending it has a yard of space around it,
on its own plot of land, casting no shadows.
I shift a bit; neighbors start crowding in.
"Stop Right There!"
"It's my spot you're on!"
I feel the canvas moving under my spot,
or is it all the jostling moving me — page, plot and all?
Now I'm bouncing in a crowded jumping castle.
Dots blurring into one another.
Stippled footprints mark where spots once stood;
touching down elsewhere — here, there, otherwise.
I've lost the plot; I've lost my spot.
Just another orphaned dot,
set adrift, looking for a margin to belong in.
on a slate, forever being wiped clean.
I clamp down and dig in my heels.
Crampons bite into the ice floe.
Punctuation halts the slide,
puts its foot down—
my comma sheds its tail, and holds.
Granny wished the worst male evil upon me when I was young and I never truly forgot.
Consumed by her unchecked lust and desperate for mens' approval; she's lost the plot.
The ancestral spirits tell me to forgive but remind me that her heart is still a cold dot.
Note: This poem is about a paternal grandmother of mine. I rarely talk about how she used to leave me in hot cars during excessively hot summers just to go shopping for herself. While I truly do admire her fashion sense, I don't wish to be like her at all when I am older, either.
They put her in a hospital bed
Just for observation
She stayed much longer than they said
an estimate inflation.
Her muscles shrank, her bones got thin
Joints got bent, delirium.
We tried to stand her up, she fell
Is this what they call getting well?
The weaker she was, the harder to move
The less she moved, the sicker she proved
She got bed sores, more spinal pain
No rehab in house, Medicare's shame.
Lack of walking caused constipation
Then urinary blockage, more complication
Dehydration followed, so saline was applied
But the catheter had germs, so she got a UTI.
Her legs so still, she got a clot
A cluster of disasters, who lost the plot?
Not all countries do it this way
incentives in the U.S. contribute to decay.
Then we pay for months of rehab care
cheaper per day, once you are there
But in the big picture it makes more sense
To prevent deterioration, before its immense.
The above patient is a composite of many poor souls
Usually there are confounds, the argument has holes
However, it's true that this happens and can't always be reversed
Let's address the incentives first.
“Don’t leave me,” I begged
“I’ll turn over a new leaf.”
“You said that last time,” she said,
“But the story was just the same on the next page.”
“This time, I’ll start a new chapter, a new book,
One with a happy ending.”
“For whom?” she asked (grammatically)
“For both of us,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she insisted,
“You’ve lost the plot,”
“Are you saying our story’s over?”
“Yes,” she said, “you’ve been remaindered.”
Proof positive there's intelligent life in the galaxy
light years away in outer space
they know better than to contact us
and we call ourselves the human race.
I'm turned off by cupidity
and over the torpidity
I've had it to here with stupidity.
Every two hundred years or so
they do a fly-by analysing
investigating what lies down here below
without stopping it's not surprising.
Can't understand man's mentality
I'm done with the insanity
I've turned my back on humanity.
Grasping at straws in the back of a stack
we've lost the plot there's no needle to be found
in the wrong place at the wrong time flying 'round the moon
when the answer is here on the ground.
Can't unring the bell the world has gone to hell
there's no turning back
I'm waiting for the aliens to pick me up take me away
shooting for the stars one of these crazy days.
I must suppose I'm fine. I laugh a lot.
My work is bearable. I have a home.
I guess I like this town I'm in. I'll not
annoy you with the glass that's half ... half what?
I spend a lot of time on Google Chrome,
meandering the streets of Naples, Rome,
Arezzo ... why is that? I've lost the plot?
Or am I just a closet polyglot
who missed his calling? Afternoons are light,
and Donizetti's lapping at my ears.
At times like this, my hobbled soul takes flight
and dreams of Italy. When I have fears
that all my sweetest songs have now been sung,
I turn to Italy. And I am young.
Is Echo anything beyond a voice?
Narcissus is a very handsome man.
Is love an obligation, or a choice?
It hasn’t varied since the world began.
Narcissus is a very handsome man.
He sees his own reflexion, and he knows:
it hasn’t varied since the world began.
To love an egotist engenders woes.
He sees his own reflexion, and he knows
he is his own enduring fantasy.
To love an egotist engenders woes –
one thing will always block you: that thing’s “he”.
He is his own enduring fantasy:
he seeks no other: he’s both hook and bait.
One thing will always block you: that thing’s “he”.
Thus gorgeousness becomes an ugly trait!
He seeks no other. He’s both hook and bait.
He’s empty. As we say, he’s lost the plot:
thus gorgeousness becomes an ugly trait.
But sound, like memory, can mark the spot.
We think love lasts for ever. Clearly not.
Abandoning a partner now seems rife.
The axioms we’ve lived by are forgot.
What are the privileges of a wife?
Abandoning a partner now seems rife.
Is love an obligation, or a choice?
What are the privileges of a wife?
Is Echo anything beyond a voice?
Anger only highlights your weakness,
it shows your lost the plot.
Keep yourself calm,
cool and collective.
For your silence can say alot.
In time life should be improving,
And it's nothing but confusing,
Odd days you fair so well,
Today's a day from hell,
It starts as you wake up,
Within a moment you blow up,
A simple task you've done each day,
Becomes a problem it's just the way,
A cup of coffee you spill the lot,
The temper starts you've lost the plot,
At your peril your walking around,
Without your slippers touching ground,
Next that is unknown to you,
A hard,sharp object coming into view,
On normal days it would be seen,
Not on a day that's been so mean,
You step on hard the pain is instant,
You shout out insults it's persistent,
There's no-one to calm you down,
If there was they'd see you frown,
But as you sit and nurse your wound,
You breath a sigh and then come round,
It has been a day full of drama,
But ends so tranquil and much calmer.
A darker shade of blue
The stars call to me through the use of a screen,
But my curtains are closed to them really being seen.
I’m scared of the dark, the night such a fright.
I wish my heart would allow me to not fear closing my eyes.
Sleep with one eye open, praying not to die.
An eye for an eye, in this world full of lies.
I am the day walker, incapable talker, memories stalker.
Midnights death.
I am so lost, I have lost the plot.
I reach for a God, but believe only with my final breath.
The nightmare continues, an eye to a view.
Beauty in natural form, my gift anew.
So dark in my heart, but still I continue.
Poet (slash) dreamer, if only they knew,
Do you think they could tell, the Hell in which I dwell?
The love that I hold has no-one under its spell.
So I stay in silence, lips unused, closing eyelids,
Soul a darker shade of blue.
(C)2023 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I can not shake this feeling
There something I need to do
I don’t think I can get through the day
If I don’t have you
You’ve become my only outlet
To release me from the pain
The only way I can de-stress
To disconnect my brain
I may be over thinking
I’m trying to make it stop
There’s a voice I can’t silence in my head
I think I’ve lost the plot
I think it makes me calm
And takes away my fear
But the more I seem to ingest
The more I disappear
I’m no longer myself
It’s taking over me
I just can’t seem to stop
How do I become free
I need to make a change
I’m better than this
If I continue this way
How much will I miss
SENSING THE END
I think I’ve given you all I’ve got
Perhaps it’s that I’ve lost the plot
Not something I have seen before
No passion is there anymore
Light in your eyes has dimmed somewhat
Living with depression
is so hard to take
Pretending that your happy
But knowing its all fake
Each day you put on
Your happy smile
And carry on
Like you've done
For a while
You go through life
Day by day
Plodding along
It's the only way
Making out all is well
But deep down inside
Your going through hell
To scared to speak
Or asked for help
Not wanting people
To know how you felt
Outside your fine
Inside your not
You tell urself
You've lost the plot
No where to run
No where to hide
Keep Saying your fine
While Knowing you lied
But there is hope
There's People who care
Not just to listen
But Advice to share
So don't give up
And don't give in
Don't let it beat you
Don't let it win
You still have so much
Life to live
And so much love
That you can give
So ask for help
Pick up that phone
And just remember
Your not alone
each and everyday
by thoughts blown away
fear fraught
though we sit to pray
love’s not our mainstay
soul’s blot
if God has His way
joy is here to stay
as ought
we are in a spot
seems we’ve lost the plot
ducky
why for tense and taut
thought spirals boycott
soul’s plea
hermit be self-taught
untie desire’s knot
be free
whence head-heart agree
we frolic carefree
delight
shift from me to thee
allows us to be
truth’s might
we finally see
we are God’s trustee
His light
21-March-2023
The pulse stops beating,
Slowly at first
The heart starts weeping
For it has lost its thirst
For life, as it is today
The World has gone mad
And many people
Have lost the will to stay
In a world full of trouble and pain
Mainly caused by man
What did we have to gain
I don't think this was God's plan
With so many in the World,
We will never get perfect peace,
Is it too much to expect?
For HUMAN BEINGS to release
Their emotions
And bottle up their grief,
Because they think there's nothing
To give their hearts and souls relief.
The pulse of life slows down,
When all goes to pot
Warmongers have gone crazy
And completely lost the plot,
What they don't seem to realise
Or if they do, they do not care,
There is a strong possibility
Our world will not exist out there.
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