Welter Poems

Oh, humanity

Oh, humanity,
Making a welter of things, 
Put our brains to better use....

Let's fly like eagles,
To our grail of peace restored,
We don't do perfect, okay.....

The Echo Returns Not

My mind is calm. My senses are composed.
To all kinds of responses, I'm disposed.
Why, my soul, that flew like a boomerang
Gets stuck within vines that, like coiled snakes, hang

Is my soul glad there while I wail in pain?
What, for my long life herein, do I gain?
Within new blooms, my soul might take shelter.
Is my body made to face mere welter?

Helter Skelter

cross your welter of confusion
i think of you often
in your sadness
questions still standing
a laps wrung of live
i see no clement sky
its the space i'm trying
that courts the day

Lost Words

I feel like a poppy
in a field of hogweed
My sentences have run dry
I am rudderless in the wilderness
I lack a welter of  letters
unassigned to the wherewithal

I am lost in a cave
unfree to ply my words
The storm clouds jettison their foray
Speechless I gain no semblance
as the autre bards attack me
walking in no one's land 
slow to trust in myself
the world should awaken
with an uninhibited din

Drink Up the Silence

The echo of a thought lodged inside me, 
a disjointed welter of crushed feelings 
tinged with a sadness that finds no escape, 
haunts my sleep and takes on a dark shape.

My past joys now a vast black solitude, 
life turns into a blank wall, a canvass 
waiting for me to paint happy faces, 
memorializing moments love graces.

Silence perches on my shoulders, whispers 
and invites me to murmur against fate, 
drink up in wine and sing in broken chords 
of hateful things imparted in non-words.

I carry a dismal sort of longing 
to shift the weights of loss twisting my heart, 
make whole the broken slices of my dreams - 
pain speeds through my body like lightning streams.

So I lay watching the shadows of night, 
eerie silhouettes roaming around me, 
shrouding me as they hobble in the cold - 
my mind rambles aimless as I grow old.

@jjote 03222021

Ideas From My Dendrite Village

Rapid ideas sprinkle out of my dendrite village,
Flowing down my shoulders, landing on the best of days,
In kilter skelter felter welter milter belter jagged piles
in crazy, zany, silly, dark, ugly, horrible, unnatural, weird ways.
I watch them form little armies. Some skitter off into the kitchen walls.
Others slither back up my legs, trying to reinvent themselves.
None want my help, so I walk into the living room.
Some are laughing hysterically, thinking it is a game.
A couple of them hit me hard in the middle of my lower back.
They are giant jumpers, trying to get back into my skull.
Good luck I think, knowing my imaginary dendrite village well.
If there is one thing she does not allow,
it is access to repeat offenders.
Best to lie down on a page and let me
Draw a cartoon around you or put you into a poem.

Ghost of Christmas 1

Am beautifully hurt
Though, gracefully taught 

You still think am weak
While hesitatingly given a week

To plunge in his favourite hands
That combusted my convex bone cheeks 

Perhaps, i smelt that act of cabalism
At same time, was left in surrealism

Its a welter weight, he looks sixpounds more
Once again, our laws are seeming lore

Likewise,standing here is a bigger lie
the last i uttered was 'fie'(upon you)

Rushing out of the square paced ring
Avoiding his mazed defeat and a lone beating

Accusing the men in suit of self complacency
While i was accorded victory.

Kyoto Proto, So What

(The Kyoto Protocol, an international
treaty signed in December 1997, commits
member states to reduce their carbon
dioxide emissions.  The United States is
the only First World nation not to ratify
the treaty.) 

Spend it, squander, swill down, swallow, 
waste it, wassail, welter, wallow. 
There's no "I" in America. 
(Well, maybe one.) 

Billow, burn up, bloat and burgeon, 
Don't stint (see stomach-stapling surgeon). 
There's no "me" in America. 
(Well, maybe one.) 

Blow up. Bulge. Indulge your senses. 
Guzzle, grab, gorge - don't heed no fences. 
There's no "crime" in America, 
no restraints, no consequences. 
(Well, maybe one.)

The Gunslinger

Only one scar, from a kid in Montana.
His mom had him placed in a field of lantana.

The kid was still smiling as smoke from his vest
plumed when the bullet slammed through his chest.

With a split second draw as smooth as fresh cream,
another man falls just short of his dream.

He doesn't pull quicker to take the man's life
but to save the man years of a gunslinger's strife.

A welter of faces has challenged his game
but the soles of their boots all look the same.

The fame he once sought now plagues him in curse;
too many men he's lain in the hearse.

One day soon he'll give a slight pause
and a younger gunslinger will take up the cause.

They'll come for him too, from the east to the west
and he too in mercy, will lay them yo rest.

The Restaurant Trouble

You can't put a better bit of butter on your platter because a martyr did shatter the packet of your butter as it did welter in the gutter,  but that waiter did cater you this later,  muttering about an utter butter-hater from Gloucester with bitter hauteur.

Love At the Right Time - For Contest

(Fictional write)



A welter of details about that first day,
and to tell you it all, I propose...
Well, the sun it did shine
and the birds they did sing,
so that's how the background goes.

Walter came handsomely
into my day, not that I knew it then.
(I knew he was handsome,
but not at that moment
could I say that I knew him.)

We went and fed ducks -
yes, it's true - not a joke,
and I like the nice way he spoke -
to me, not the ducks!
He was fast becoming my bloke.

And after the ducks
it was blah, blah, blah...
Well I'm not going to tell it all.
Despite what I said,
I'm a private person, duh!

Walter came handsomely
into my life
and we forged a companionship.
Whether we wed, it's not FOR you to know,
so now please go away.


------------------------------------------------

9/28/2015

Contest - Falling in Love

Sponsor - Aiyah de Torres

2nd place win

Pelter

Pelter fell on a welter of papers
                                 A hell of a  mess with all the wrappers
                                            Police chased the pelter 
                                             Who ran helter skelter
                                   And struck up a tune to all the rappers











         Pelter/Limerick Copyright (C) Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 23 November 2014

Lost

Road leads me nowhere
I go lower and lower

Take me out from here
I want to have you near

Your arms are my shelter
In here there’s no welter

Please stay with me
And let me be

Wanda Wages War At the Waldorf

Wednesday, while waiting for the waiter, wanting some waffles at the Waldorf,
a woeful, wimpy, wall-eyed Walter, 
witnessed a wicked, wanton woman (who was wearing a wacky wardrobe and 
wiggling her whoppers)
waddle in walking with her Welch terrior
winking, wooing with wily ways, 
wanting to weaken Walter’s willpower. Willing,.. Walter whistled
 as wife, Wanda, walked in. Well, Wanda walloped Walter with welter-weight wrath!!







Response :
Wonder when the workmen will wash Walter off the walls at the Waldorf?

And Jesus Wept

I fell to my knees and wept
Bound in aged skin
With the scars designed
I wept in chains 

And though the tears flowed
Still I burned again a hundred fold
As I lay my fist on quiet Earth
And died within the heartbeat of everyone else

Every sob tore its mouthful of food from my throat
Each wretched and bloodied second
A whining bullet for my soul to fall upon
And I drown within the pain of someone

……….. This quiet blockade

Such a taste upon my lips
Of all the vicious felt this stab into my back
And to my heart echoed such sorrow
When at last my eyes were opened

In such agony have I lived
Mindless, dumb and clueless
In such a welter of deceit did I exist
To be blinded by the promise of comfort

And such is a the price I paid
When my soul beat vengeance on this quiet blockade
And by the divisions of wealth
It was I, who had become a slave

I cannot count the grains of rice
Nor the bodies strung out in a corpses eye
And I can only bleed within my heart
To witness such insanity

I do not stand there among them
The butchered bloody collateral damage of hatred
Yet die each moment with them
My family of children, my brothers and my sisters

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