Short Blotch Poems

UNCONSCIOUS ART
blot splotch
 chance blotch...

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Blotted blue and green
Flying ‘round sunflower’s pot
Looking place to blotch...

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There is a monster in Loch Ness
Which has been seen, more or less
And tourists flock with cameras zoomed
To be quite expensively roomed
And even if the photo shows a grey, grained blotch
At least the bar sells a lot of Scotch....

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Living in the sunless cold hutch of till death do us apart, sits a chipping soul.

Never had he thought she did be a blotch of many shades.
Spitting and pouring scorn on his dreams of a happy home.

“What? Are you even a man? Your mates are out there...”...

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A pink blotch on her forehead
It was left by angels dear
Kisses from her benefactors
Insuring she’d arrive safely hear
Is that a birthmark? Many said
Kiss from angels on high, said Fred
He was her older brother
Shared a dad, but not a mother
Still. he knew his sister immediately
He was her caretaker and protector with expediency...

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dark blotch self implanted 
borne of ego contractions tainted
cognised & realised but yet admitted
owning to habit borne indulgence requited

mere recognition not sufficient 
to make bondage to delusion decadent
for unless we initiate actual change within 
we block the divine spark birthing bliss ignition 

within

17-September-2020...

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Charm the waves, 
Entail algorithms of templates,
Subclass the seasonal stripes, 

Smash this tasteless flame stitch. 
A chevron turning into an imperial damask. 

Intarsia the charming argyle in this rotunda.
Rub the blotch off the bull's eye,
Collage the camouflage in this calico assemblage. 

Chintz in the heart, chequer in the mind,
Charming Patterns....

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My condolences can’t ease the pain,
That you have come to feel.
Nor fill the void in your heart,
That often seems unreal.

But it lets your heart know,
That you are in my prayers.
And when sorrow digs its heels,
There is someone here who cares.

I offer healing words of comfort,
And many hugs for sympathy.
When sorrowful clouds blotch your sky,
You can always depend on me....

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My jacket has a little stain
So should I wear it? I'll refrain
Except on days I babysit;
My grandkids will not mind one bit.

In fact, I really do suspect
(But can't be sure - I never checked)
That where this blotch first took its bow
Was in the place I'll wear it now.

A garment's lifespan must depend
On how it's treated 'til the end,
So what one wears with babes along
Will never really last too long....

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The ink blot can BLINK 
Hurrah! TODAY I think

Now a SPLOTCH is in the sink
With water I did not drink

If I spot this BLOTCH I'll scream
Bringing a crowd to this scene

Calming them all with CREAM
BUT this shock may never be 
If I can wash it away with 
Aqueous fluid indeed it will

Spill into the drain and glide
Onto infinite PARALLEL PLAINS

THE BLOTCH of SPLOTCH never 
To be seen AGAIN.  HURRAH!...

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Time blows and turns over
the pages of mylife.
Sometime revealing the prologue
and sometime the epilogue.

Hands write and leave their imprints.
the blotch, the unflinching courage,
 dejection,the forlon hope, ..........
all remain embedded in my soul.

Seasons arrive and vanish
bestowing sometime a spring flower
 and  sometime dry autumnal foliage.

I'm  a  fossil 
caged in my  own world.
I only wait and behold as
time writes  my fate....

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A jubilant smile had she.
Publicly sunny, 
Affable her presence.
Pure her uncanny eyes were.
Flawless was her name among folks.

In murky light a honed skill 
had she adorned.
A shell variegated her body 
enhancing her crimson forsaken soul.
She would not stem it.
she would keep it as a proof of her 
Corporality.

To mourn was not proper.
she had to be perfect
for them.
Suppressed her art must be. 
No one was meant to know her blotch.
...

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