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Best Poems Written by Gavin Lottering

Below are the all-time best Gavin Lottering poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

The Spider's Reproach

Upon a walk, I took the time, 
To sit beneath a tree. 
I paused a moment, to light a smoke, 
when small voice spoke to me. 

"If it please you Sir, I must insist,
you do not light that smoke."
"My lungs, you see, are delicate,
and your fumes will make me choke."

I turned my head, to see who spoke,
and my breath, I felt it catch.
A spider, so beautiful, I could not help,
But pause the strike off match.

Then in my chest I began to feel
an indignation rise.
"But madam, it's in my nature,"
I found myself reply.
"I understand," she said, "I truly do,"
"But please be then aware."
"My nature is to want to bite, 
and nest inside your hair."

"A quandary, to be sure”, I said.
“I don't know what to do."
“I really like to smoke, you see, 
and to myself be true.”

She pondered shortly to herself, 
and then became resolved.
And turning with a smile, she said,
"It think I have it solved."
"Have your smoke and I won't bite,
I'll merely show my teeth."
"And for your part, all that's required, 
is that you just don't breathe."

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Add-Verse Conditions

Marbles, marbles! I've lost my marbles. 
I don't know where they are. 
I know I had them recently, 
So they can't have gotten far. 

Blast it all! My marbles. 
Where have I gone and left them? 
I used them just the other day. 
I was glad I'd had them then. 

I do this all the time, you know. 
Lose my marbles, is what I mean.
And every time I get them back, 
I find that more are missing. 

So now I have a handful left, 
Nowhere near what used to be. 
And there I see a screw that's loose, 
That's all I bloomin’ need.

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Getting Over Moving On

Try your best not to look for, 
All those things which are no more. 
That favorite place to sit and talk. 
Paths lovers used to love to walk. 
Avoid using words like wish or fair
And steer well clear of why. 
And find a place, that's always safe, 
to have a good old cry. 

Concentrate on doing what
you need to, to survive. 
Keep on breathing in and out, though it hurts like hell inside. 
And even though foods lost its taste,
Eat three meals each day 
And the hardest thing of all sometimes, 
say thank you when you pray. 

And I promise you, though I can't say when, 
there'll be a day that comes. 
Quite by surprise
When you least expect it
that at last you'll see the sun. 
And even if some clouds remain
most will blow away
And little by little, color returns
To fill your world of gray.

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Humble Pie

Ha, ha, ha. Hee, hee, hee.
Why you not laugh like it real funny? 
You not see your brother, hey? 
See his 'R'-ss, and fall down, hey? 
Don't you know if you fall down, 
He laugh too, like you a clown? 
So come now, don't get up high horse. 
You no better than us, of course. 
And we all know just matter of time, 
Before you too, see your own behind.

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Hare Brained Part 2

Part 2

Now pay close attention to what I say next, 
For though the ending is thrilling, what follows is best. 
We all like believing that Rabbit's the creep, 
But don't for a second, 
think that reptiles don't cheat. 
"Oh no, don't go on", you say
This all sounds too corny."
But isn't it obvious, 
all the holes in this story. 
And I'm sure you're all thinking, 
"What's the point of this tale?"
Or perhaps, 
"This is starting, 
to sound a bit stale."
Of course Ears will win. 
Standing still he's still fast,  
Sheldon........         
eventually, 
Will indubitably come last. 
 
And, while yes, I suppose, 
That's a reasonable outcome, 
That's not how this story goes. 
The real story's ending, 
Is way better by far, 
For there's more
    to this tale 
       than you know. 

For should you be thinking, 
Sheldon's thinking be slow, 
Just because that's, 
how he gets where he goes. 
You'd be mistaken for calling, 
him Tortoise Gump, 
And the blood wasn't warm, 
that through his veins pumped. 
So, while coming in first,
Would mean he was the best 
That he'd finally have, 
street cred with the rest.
This wasn't enough as, 
for a tortoise long taunted. 
The resolve to get even, 
remained fiercely undaunted. 

So with this all in mind
And going back a few hours. 
To the night before race day 
'Neath a sky filled with clouds. 
Out on the race course, 
Around two miles along. 
Sat a rock on the race track, 
Where rocks don't belong. 
And strange though this was, 
stranger yet still, 
When the rock then grew legs, 
And took to the hills. 

This being said, upon the track, 
Two mile mark ahead, 
Rabbit, in a hurry, 
Spied a sign which said:
If you're one of two, 
Who are running in a race, 
You better take the next road left, 
If you want to take first place.
It's at this point there are two things, 
Which become evidently clearer, 
One - Rabbit wasn't very smart and, 
Two - be careful of fake media. 
For off dashed rabbit, 
turning left, 
Though his GPS said right, 
To - Your - Left, the sign read, 
That next came into sight. 
And, still further along, 
Painted in white, 
An arrow that pointed, 
Most opposing to right.

So rabbit ran circles
As the sun climbed ever higher
Till, around about noon, 
Bunny felt himself tire. 
"Tortoise can't win," 
He said with a smile
And spying some shade, 
Thought to rest
For awhile. 

end part 2

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Until the End

Though I hanker nothing for that feeling
Of impotence turned inward till, 
frustration, 
Brewed bowel deep and in bile rises, 
choking, 
Forcing out from throat a broken croaking.
And still I find I ask. 
Why?
Why can't I bring to recollection, 
one single, and would be, 
precious moment, 
though recall - crystal in its clarity
scouring memory's halls - 
lays all bare before foul scrutiny, 
where I was not in fear of you?
Why? 
When, of what exuberant energy
youth is given, 
All was spent! 
Up and to its smallest measure.  
Determination matched only by the aching yearning, 
in trying to become like you. 
Why, and why again, 
Did all sight of me, 
welcome just a burning fury?

And blistered spirit, 
bruised and battered crumbling will. 
Fool I was, and am now still. 
Who chose to hide from a world too real.
And after little sighs and practised folding hands, 
Slumber slipped slow into coma.

Till Hammer! Hammer! 
Three decades later. 
Need, with mercy none and armed to teeth, 
broke upon my door, sole bent on ending me. 
Grievously armed, 
those machinations of my own making, 
whose only purpose is to crush.
That, the sum of which a perfect craft complete, 
matchless in design to bring at last to sleep,
and slake the lifelong bloodlust. 
That when, spirit’s bone
stripped bare of flesh, 
my Soul, 
Then at the end of all forgotten lies, 
At last sees my demise.

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Dissappearing Shores

Stupid, stupid, stupid fool,
going 'round and 'round.
You're leaving footprints wherever you go, 
set deep into the ground. 
Can you not see, you silly goat? 
Your ways are plain to see.
We know what's up. 
We see you there, 
drifting out to sea. 
But, by now, we've figured out, 
there's not much we can do.
We've pretty much run out of rope,
That we can throw to you. 
But we smile, and wave, quite sad, 
as blindly you drift on. 
Wondering if, this time you'll find, 
Your way back on your own.

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Settlement Stains

Pitter, patter little feet,
running up and down the street. 
Screaming, laughing, shouting loud.
Thin silver lining, in such dark cloud.
This moment's fun, will end too soon. 
Replaced with angry curses
and paraffin fumes. 
Green, amber - filled bottles, 
all but soothe,
Lurking shadows, 
set to abuse. 
No whimpered prayers, 
to make it end, 
hope, long dead, 
that at last in bed -
Safety find, 
but instead,
A different kind of pain begins.
Now, at last, bitter tears release, 
Tiny, wretched soul, at last to sleep.

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Final Act

Who am I to say that is,
Only is because was, was
Since was was only was because,
Of certain things I chose to do.
But as much it is of what it is,
Of one thing I am certain.
Prepare yourself for your final bow,
They're about to call last curtain.

Details | Gavin Lottering Poem

Ad-Ult-H-Oo-D

It's hard for me to concentrate,                  
I'm really not sure why.  
I'm always forgetting something,                       
no matter how I try.       
It's actually quite annoying since -              
it's hard to get things done.                              
And I find I can't do simple math,           
without sticking out my tongue.