Toppled Poems | Examples

Are we really who we think we are? 10-07-25

I chanced upon a rushing mirror
who danced along with all the urgency 
of an early summer's wind,
a serene creature whose silver surface
seemed to only focus on reaching the sea.
In its tail I saw a human,
whose hair was the same colour as mine,
whose nose and mouth breathed the same air I did,
whose eyes captured my every memory.
They were someone who I recognised,
indeed they are who I am
just not who I considered myself to be.
Sometimes, I lose myself
becoming fixated on who I was
and what I had done
not what I am doing nor who I was now.
Every so often, I find it helpful 
to find somewhere dark and silent
and, just briefly, think.
The mirror flows on
cascading over rocks and toppled trees,
smothering my face in frothing bubbles.

Lede Buried, in I Fell

I bowed for the story line.
Hunched over in suspense,
I hung-out for the punch line.
The twists of plot
lured me to the edge.
I could see the lede
lying buried below me.
Reaching in to grab it,
I toppled over, fell right in,
and became the story line.

dummy spit

dumpy trumpeter 
spat the dummy
when his taco toppled
off his pastiche wall

The Starling

When I was small
the starlings roosted one by one
on grandma’s party line wire
	(like jittery black clothespins)
to bandy their gossip back and forth
until the wire hummed
with their inanities.

By luck my slingshot found its mark.
One toppled from the wire soundlessly
like a clothespin blown loose in the wind.
The others rattled on, oblivious,
no questions asked.

It dropped straight down.
I ran to see where it had fallen
	(headlong into the trash)
expecting it to be stunned only
and I would laugh as it flew off.

There, 
between a flattened can of Campbell soup
and a Brillo pad used up,
and bleeding from one empty eye
the still warm bundle of feathers
looked ready for flight.
	(so fly!)
But when it did not spread its wings
or chatter any more
I cradled death in my hands
	(soft and almost weightless)
and cried 
as I buried both victim and weapon
in the same box.

Wounds

Doubt is like duct tape so rip it off,
never mind paper cuts and red welts.  
You toppled off your bike as a kid,
always stood up again and rode on. 

Never mind paper cuts and red welts,
wounds heal slowly as time passes by. 
Always stood up again and rode on.
Why would you quit? You are older now. 

Wounds heal slowly as time passes by,
that is the certainty of this world. 
Why would you quit? You are older now. 
The only way to move is forward.

That is the certainty of this world,
we are constantly in rotation.  
The only way to move is forward.
Courage must knock out hesitation.

We are constantly in rotation, 
you toppled off your bike as a kid.
Courage must knock out hesitation,
doubt is like duct tape so rip it off.

Seeding Clouds

We did not speak of rain;
only the wish that our love
could be again.
The air was bone-dry,
with only the merest glimpse, 
of wispy cloud remnants,
in the sky.

But, our thoughts, hopes and wishes
coalesced to form empty 
puffy, fluffy, white cloud receptacles.
That we could seed with intent, 
by prying drops, one at a time,
from memories long forgotten
gone bone dry.

We tapped our reminiscences,
of the good times we shared,
buried deep in our dry parched ground.
We sent each droplet squeezed, 
aloft to gather
in the clouds above.

The clouds darkened with foreboding,
reluctance and trepidation, 
as their burden grew 
with expectation overdue.

At last, the clouds, 
topped up to brimming full,
could hold on no longer!
They burst and gushed out with raindrops. 
That toppled on our heads,
sprouting our seeds, 
watered from the clouds above, 
seeded with our love.

Light Box

Cold, warm, horrifying, inviting 

Grinding away at the last pink and grey pustules  

pooling at the bottom of my 

Skull 

Gods own light pushes and claws helplessly 

against thin nylon 

Its primordial importance 

Toppled by billions and billions of bright bulbs  

Burning and boring into my eyeballs 

Spiralling and spiralling down  

an everlasting pit of fluctuating fun and fear  

And skin and sin and guilt, guided 

Down as fast or as slow as 

You want, your choice 

Quick glimpses of the very bottom shoot sharp  

Icicles of despair into my sedentary soul 

Thick mist  

Clears temporarily from my 

Glazed eyes, I push and claw helplessly against images 

Of razed villages and burgundy-bloodied bodies,  

Kicking and 

Screaming against the unfeeling and undulating  

Dilated eyes 

of fellow billions

Some Where - Apr 12

Toppled by a bottle, collapsed upon
her painful past, asleep—but well awake!—,
unmoving, but for her mind stirred aquake,
the girl is yawning before her black dawn.

Alone, couched by a burning blanket drawn
over a conscience guilty at the stake,
slipping into the sly hands of the snake,
she sees not clearly the sickening con

which lures her slowly to her deathly state.
Unknowingly, she’s dozing, edging deeper
into the dreamrealm, into the hazy
murk of the promised land. 
					Her name was Daisy—
until, unexpected, said the reaper,
“Poor thing… if only you could now change fate.”

Echoes of the Silent Shore

Echoes of the silent shore into our past it transports
Calling me to my memories long ago stored
Safely put away
for days like today
when I need you and my eyes are red and sore

Echoes of the silent shore make me want you more
than I have truly wanted anyone ever after or before
To have and hold you
wrapped in your arms too
when you want to hear then out my heart will pour

Echoes of the silent shore haunt me more than before
Prior to our parting, nothing about you I abhorred
all times I fumbled
toppled and tumbled
Besides losing you, is nothing I regret more

Echoes of the silent shore left me alone to explore
Regret filling my heart spilling over I can’t ignore
We’re not together
I’m iron fettered
Without you near all disappeared that I adored

Echoes of the silent shore walks us on the dance floor
You wandered into my life through the open door
I want you to know
I can’t let you go
Since you’re gone emptiness cuts me to the core

Echoes of the silent shore stay with me on your accord
When you were here each time you smiled galore
In my dreams you stay
Never go away
And every single day I love you more

The Love Song

The Love Song
A song we both liked once
grinds-on,
a needle on a disc
etching deep grooves
into a mutual experience.

The cat we once shared, died.
Our dog chased the cat
in its leg-twitching dreams
until its old heart gave out.

The cherry tree toppled in a storm,
when we cut its broken limbs down
blossoms fell like coral rain.
The garden we both tended to
was never the same.

That song we loved
is hardly ever sung nowadays
its tune un-played,
insensitive modulations
have twisted it into a jingle
only heard in elevators.

I have kept
the scratchy vinyl recording,
its lyrics now seem trite,
besides, we no longer believe
in such timeless melodies.

Ink Blots

In the foreground of a dream, you stood before me, confessing your singular misstep.
Behind you, were two images. As only my subconscious mind could decipher, then conveyed to me.
Only the words lingered. They toppled down from your careless mouth, falling towards the ground beneath your unsteady gait, as you paced to and fro; much like a cornered animal.
For months I revisited that dream. Still, I found no answer to the question I asked of you.
You claimed to have committed the act only one time.
All my good senses tell me your heroes lived on death row
Mother’s are to blame for the role you played in the demise of so many.

Ink Blots was the foreground of this dream. Escaping me so obviously.
So now I must wait as they build a case.

Bones

In winter
The forest becomes invisible

This
Is
When the wood can be touched

Such
Tall
And toppled tenderness
Will not flinch

Beyond
Looking through
The centuries exposed

Forest floor
Floats
With deadfall

So many crisscrossed legs and arms

Windthrow veins
Drained
Of blood

Root system rugged above its quivering skin

Like us all
When life is gone
We are the same

Bone
Remains

Laid down

Foundation
For hares and Perennials
Fungus and fox
Feathered saplings of sun and moon

A risen soul
Someday soon
Erupted
Again

With dahlia sky and spring.

Holiday Fun

Santa hosted a party one day.
Once the drinking had got underway,
one poor elf got so pissed
he by accident kissed
Mrs. Santa inside Santa’s sleigh.

How they got in the sleigh no one knows.
Frosty saw them and said he’d expose
their slight indiscretion
with no hesitation
when a clatter from somewhere arose.

It was Rudolph; so plastered was he
that he’d toppled the big Christmas tree.
He was red-nosed – lit-up -
and he could not sit up,
but he begged Frosty, “Let the elf be!”

Dancing Dependence

Her affections charm me like nothing else, 
Captivating kindness clutches my heart with care. 
Standing at the headland, her head rests, before we head home.
 I’m the head of the outing, though soon, heading from home,
 But she’s headstrong and she won’t be alone x

I’m living brightly, daily and nightly; Everything stays 
Right where you left it. As I wait 
Until I see you again. 

And then, when I do 
First our skin touches 
My blood seized from my sway- 
Slowly at first, I toppled over 
Spinning as my mind keeps chasing her way. 

Breathing in her laughter, 
The curve of her soft hand, 
Warmth from her heals me, 
I'd give her anything I can. 
She’s my calm and the light I see through; 
Wherever I stand, she always can view- 
Up in my bridge, my only virtue. 

Guessing whether you ever wonder: 
Will glass balls always be filled daily and 
(To)nightly with the beautiful moon

The Wide Devastation

Long after the lively spring came quite early...
every narrow hill's path laid in solemn tranquility,
faint footprints on solid ground under black booths
smeared with stains by damaged, leaking roofs.

It took longer to reach the hilltop being forced to halt
before a fallen tree toppled down by the hurricane Milton:
can Nature be as violent as man's mad temperament?
A barren land without trees cries out in utter desperation! 

Going further up, slouching on blunders over huge vallies below,
climbing takes a big effort to get to a planned destination too slow; 
strong legs are needed to climb sharp peaks, looking forward and advance:
a little mishap can cost your life: return to safer ground without incidence!

One can see clearer the wide devastation from the highest peak,
watch that pelican in distress aimlessly searching for her hatchling
ravaged by the force of that howling wind over the dogwood creek;
don't hesitate to come down quickly and help out the hopeless living!

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