Noah commissioned a wee dove as his ocean scout
It ventured out three times seeking sprigs of life
on the third try it brought back hope to mankind.
I would have chosen an albatross for the task
with its great wingspan suited for sea voyages
It could have done the deed in half the time.
Perhaps the dove was more efficient and intelligent
maybe the albatross lacked focus and discipline
been tempted by the sirens of fog and froth.
Did it feel spited in the shadow of the Genesis ship.
Who am I to question a blessed man
who built an arc and refreshened mankind.
She said she’d only cheated once
I told her I felt spited
I asked who it was with
And she said Manchester United
9 November 2022
Contest: Butesize 55
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Trends mirrored me
I wrapped fire in my gut
Passed through the cells of light
I cut my anchor rope
Struggled to realize my dreams
I floated above time
All is left to me alone - alone
The suffering - sleeplessness
I swam the opposite of my tragedies
I'm a prisoner despite the distress
I did not give up my sails to the sea
In the memory of my begining
I walked in my derby
Criticism - heart breaks - suffering
I wore them my stories
Walkers hated me
Lookers spited at me ugliness
I held it for years
Crossed it to sleep on
Hugged it - Hugged it
Mortgaged myself
Watered all my seeds
Although revolution is repeated
Yet career has not risen
Planes of enemies
Tasted the scourge of the earth
Civilization denied me
Parties divided me
Earth hunger revolted it
Soul milk satiated it.
My relationship with time is often tenuous
although we've never spoken face to face
somehow the two of us are quite unable
to ever move along at equal pace
When I am swift I find the days are fleeting
with dawn to dusk occurring in a blink
In idle times I beg the hours, "move quickly"
they drag so long it drives me to the brink
I wonder if he does it for amusement
tormenting me for some ill spited game
speeding up and slowing as it suits him
for no purpose but driving me insane
I hear someone a-knockin’ at my door,
It’s you again, have we not had enough?
The problem is a complete lack of respect,
Well, your disfavor is shared no need to bluff.
I am much smarter aware of the tricks,
It’s you again, these guiles made me tough,
The problem is your way or just hit the road,
Well, your roadway is rigid spited with rough.
I grew my growth away from your tree,
It’s you again, rage hidden by fluff,
The problem is kindred but with spirit lost,
Well, your heart lacks craze among lovin’ stuff.
I insist you go with that same ol’ leave,
It’s you again, blazing amidst all the slough,
The problem is clear with no extra toll,
Well, your smoke is long gone merely a puff.
……………………………………………………………
Contest Entry: Desperate Housewife
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A
Placement: 7th Place
PLEASE PASS THE SWEETBREAD
With sorrow tomorrow I will say fare thee well
As I be headed for the intestines of hell
A demon misdirected to be duly digested
While his fortitude and factor of fear is fully tested
With a vested interest in indecency and indiscretion
While involved in an iniquitous insurrection
A sinner sought by sordidness and the vengeance of tomorrow
No beggar but a being who prefers to rob rather than borrow
Just a junkie jousting with justice, judgment and condemnation
A soul aligned with the maligned yet suffering alienation
A spirit spited by speciousness and spurious allegations
And when asked if he feels like human waste he will nod in affirmation
For thus is this the me my mother never meant for me to be
And as for my father he was never very fatherly
And so it is I’ve come to this
A last resort for a lack of bliss
The final toll of a well-worn bell
As I am insidiously and insistently ingested by the intestines of hell
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…...~free cee!~
Ready known,the tremble,the
fallen star,only those with
the woundy heart,stolen
from was the falleth
art....only those with the
healing cry©
Many stories with the
spoketh wrongs,runneth in
their wasted gaze,in a
deaded wayz.....wisdom in the
empted space,afflicted with
a fadeth beauty in a warried
case..si-lent,the meant prey.....
Ho-ly mem-ory,killeth the-
ory,hearted fallen,lo-ve
broken,tears shameful®...
Spoketh of their taketh
fate,fai-lure recorded f-rom
unfortune dayz,,spited in only
phrase the plenty words that
murdeth their date.....what
else? Is life not a broketh
rake...
Vani-ty upon van-ity, all a
sincereth meaning....Thou
knoweth,wisdom keepeth.
Ready known,the tremble,the
fallen star,only those with
the woundy heart,stolen
from was the falleth
art....only those with the
healing cry©
Many stories with the
spoketh wrongs,runneth in
their wasted gaze,in a
deaded wayz.....wisdom in the
empted space,afflicted with
a fadeth beauty in a warried
case..si-lent,the meant prey.....
Ho-ly mem-ory,killeth the-
ory,hearted fallen,lo-ve
broken,tears shameful®...
Spoketh of their taketh
fate,fai-lure recorded f-rom
unfortune dayz,,spited in only
phrase the plenty words that
murdeth their date.....what
else? Is life not a broketh
rake...
Vani-ty upon van-ity, all a
sincereth meaning....Thou
knoweth,wisdom keepeth.
THE SENSELESS NATURE OF SANITY
Can sanity make sense of sorrow,
now that I am not part of her tomorrow?
Can someone save me from today,
now that she has faded away?
The loss of a lady equals memories
The flavor of a springtime breeze
The walks which we once shared
Before her heartlessness was bared
I’ve been left to languish alone
Broken in both body and bone
My spirit has spited me once again
And left me to remember when
When that lady loved me so
While I wonder why she had to go
We were smiling with naked trust
Until my dreams were turned into dust
Can someone make sense of insanity,
and lift the veil of a lady’s vanity
She used to eradicate skies of gray
Until the lady finally faded away
© 2008…..free cee!
Bartered tears with your love adorn
Twin streams from pure, spring founts born
Sappy pores gushing with showers of contrition on christening morn
Exchanged with vows that o'er time were weathered and torn
Briny waves of doubt crested; fealties' banks shorn
Now bottled memories silted with salty tears forlorn
Eroding tear ducts inundated and with passing time worn
Brackish vapor distilled with rotting dreams; with nauseous fumes borne
Corroded promises mired in a dry bed of scorn
Cloaked in callous foliage spited with thistle and thorn
Meeting at the jaded fork; once vibrant streams solemnly mourn
Stagnant puddles awaiting reincarnation; at next season's fertile rains reborn