Have you ever been wrong?
I was wrong.
Ugly, smugly wrong.
Psephologically wrong.
Hit the iceberg,
smoking’s good for you,
the treaty of Versailles,
left on red,
Copernicus, Aristotle, Custer,
wrong.
I’m not claiming an excuse,
wrong.
It wasn’t you,
it was me,
wrong.
Just fricking
kiss a frog
wrong.
Wrong all along,
wrong about the world,
reevaluate me wrong,
wrong, wrong, wrong.
I can admit I was wrong.
Can you forgive me,
can I forgive me,
wrong
.
.
Songs for this:
Waters of March by John Roseboro & Mei Semones
Stabilise by Nilüfer Yanya
.
.
Webster: Psephology = the scientific study of elections.
Are anchors fetters or do they stabilise,
acting as moorings, holding us steady,
that we may stay grounded in our comfort zone,
whilst battling fierce winds of duality?
We walk alone yet seek safety in numbers,
opting to adopt culture based on birth,
deludedly following narrow beliefs,
although in our heart, gong of truth rings not.
We feel within our bones that we are a soul,
so why then do we cling to illusion,
more so recognising that it is transient,
enmeshing mind in a gossamer web?
Employing specious logic, we justify
fear of freedom, inventing a new script,
languishing thus in darkness and rewriting
beliefs in secret code we can’t decrypt.
17-March-2023
New Moorings Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
A deep truth about to be told
Let us mark this one in bold!
We open our eyes but see nothing
For our focus is in space unwavering
The senses rely upon reflection
We seek no echo in this meditation
We may if we wish rotate polarity
Focusing on space & object in cyclic continuity
Until we stabilise our attention
To rest in the void of cessation
In an unending continuation
14-August-2020
Brexit Sonnet No.5
‘To Clothe The Wreck’
A game of chance, the climb to rule this land,
As much a slip of others as trip of yours.
Oft’ ruled by chance events, not thoughts well planned,
Same for freshers new, as time-served bores.
And now we see the cards in shuffled deck,
Prepared again to face the green baize cloth.
Plans anew prepared to clothe the wreck
That’s Brexit, now sad without its champagne froth.
But cards are dog-eared, faded, worn and ripped
With two faced jokers squirming in the pack.
The dealer haggard, drawn and ill-equipped,
Can’t stabilise for strength they plainly lack.
Quantitatively ease this wretched, worn out pile;
Print more talent and from Brexit, please resile.
©Keith Murphy
Get a grip on gregariousness when dumps drive on
Stabilise your thoughts, get your bearings right
Soon clouds though loud evacuate your zone
Stamina soars and clarity consolidates your sight.
Stabilise your thoughts, get your bearings right
Long for strength, sound the gong of growth
Stamina soars and clarity consolidates your sight
Parry adrenalin despite severe symbols of wrath.
Long for strength, sound the gong of growth
Grip the mace of grace, strip traces of hesitation
Parry adrenalin despite severe symbols of wrath
Gather your wits, tweet tenderness and forward her felicitation.
Grip the mace of grace, strip traces of hesitation
Soon clouds though loud evacuate your zone
Gather your wits, tweet tenderness and forward her felicitation
Get a grip on gregariousness when dumps drive on.
THERE IS NOTHING LIKE A DAME –
and there is no dame like a building society or a bank!
There may be nothing like me, but I assure you
the world would have gone to hell but for organised sex -
if boys and girls were left to nature’s provenance,
a person like me would be nowhere at all.
Oh, I know how to milk attraction
and stabilise what is essentially of short duration:
if boys and girls were left to innocence
there’d be no delighting old men.
If that sounds unfair, I didn’t make the rules -
all this spontaneity leaves everyone very poor,
the Church, the magistrates and the building societies
are all depending on the regulation of love.
It’s the people who won’t smile who bother me,
hard fitted, easy suited, do they think it’s all for free?
(C) Rosemarie Rowley
From IN MEMORY OF HER (2008)
Do not flatter yourself...
The noose, the tight, the knot,
Your face has changed...
Your mask on tilt...
The worse the situation becomes...
...with preconceived emotion...
Dangerous illusion aware...
...You celebrate deception...
...Seed with thought conception...
...Your face shows ass crack...
...the more you talk...
sidelined...and sin binned...
...new recruit sent in...
...Tidy up the mess...
you left behind...
...The lesson you should learn...
...before you crash and burn...
...try to keep your mask on stabilise...
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.