Pretty flowers were what we looked for,
had no money for the store.
Bathroom to save the day,
soft white flowers not gray.
Toilet paper roll no more.
Imagine life without (indoor) showers
To come clean, you’d need a bath
And for a bath, you’d need hot water
Now imagine life without running water indoors
Go to the well. Fetch the water. Bring it home
Heat it up over a fire or on an old-fashioned stove
And where to put the bathtub, by the way
In the bathroom? What bathroom?
Life is so convenient today with indoor plumbing
Without it? – Like ‘Apocalypse Coming’
If I find out who has been eating cake in my bathroom,
They will be paying for a new broom,
And a cake a tin free of rust,
That will be a must.
I just hope they never learn,
What went on in the bedroom,
That would cause heads to turn,
While they were eating cake in the bathroom.
Don't let a moment in time
leave a scar on your soul
This reality is just a tiny part
of what truely makes us whole
The people we come across
are mostly jus memories of clowns that will fade
over the years
I can promise you not one of them
are worth even one single tear
Growing up is nothing like our dreams
The pain we feel
Will teach us more than it seems
This dimension is really
just one of an infinite amount
And this world is like
a school for our souls
that feels like there's no way out
N sometimes it hurts
that we think we jus
fade in a crowd
Once you realize
theres so much more
AFTER this life
it will be a lil easier
to take all the bullshtt in stride
Our souls need to grow
& we learn the best lessons from hurting
but just try to always remember
pain is meant for your growth & learning
Each time your heart & soul
feel that sting of this life
just know that its a reminder
that you're alive
toiletries arranged by the sink
toothbrush green, powder in pink
cylinders, tins, glass bottles too
make up, soaps and comb of blue
most of it is used every day
except a red pig made of clay
paraphernalia in its place
husband defers with sweet grace
I washed my hands before bed,
letting the warm water run too long.
The mirror fogged, then cleared,
and my reflection smiled, though I didn’t.
It blinked with slow exaggeration,
then leaned forward as if to step out.
I backed away, towel clutched tight.
Its mouth moved, but no sound came.
I spun around.
my bedroom stood empty.
No shadows, no whispers.
Only the thud of my own heartbeat.
I laughed, nervous and relieved,
and reached for my toothbrush.
Gone.
I looked up.
The mirror-me held it, grinning wide.
The bristles dripped,
though I hadn’t used it yet.
I dropped my towel.
It raised one hand,
waved slowly, almost polite,
and whispered, “Goodnight.”
The glass went dark.
The toothbrush rolled onto the floor.
And now…
I will never brush my teeth alone again.
~~~ What I Love ~~~
My little angel so sweet and so loving,
she is always making me very happy.
Her long silky and soft fur I love brushing,
with a pretty and huge smile never wacky.
Her million dollar kisses I always wear,
going shopping and riding in the big car.
Cool breeze running through the window and our hair,
singing to the radio with a loud cheer.
~~~ What I Hate ~~~
All public bathrooms really make me mad,
only luke warm air and a noisy dryer.
No paper towels makes me so very sad,
need paper towels ~ guess must call an umpire.
Warm air blow dryers will not wipe a child face,
what kind of a dysfunctional bathroom place?
We all need a choice for me paper towels,
paper towels they all flew away like owls.
But not the interminably hopeless daddy longlegs
some say cellar spiders also know as the cranefly
lurking amidst the shower curtain then
flapping wildly all around my hat
just not first thing on
a Monday morning when stark staring
and uncoffeed thus it must
be duly despatched with an implement
humanely and meanwhile the water's
spraying in all directions
Later on leaving my nosy neighbour beckons
from her window and announces
there's a wet patch on the outside wall
you must have a leaky bath
you'll want to get that sorted and
I'm already late and it's the dullest
blanket grey dullest cold beans for breakfast
not that you have time for it
dead nothing morning and I wish you the best of
luck with the rest of it
Bathroom Mirror
I stare into the mirror
my hand pauses
double-edged razor suspended in air.
I see my face, and
see what others see
or do I really.
They see my face as it is
while I see what it hides
a mask that covers much.
I can see the seventy years plus
of grief and laughter
pain and pleasure.
I can see the face others see
but I can also see the face
only I can see.
There's a window in my bathroom.
I catch myself looking out of it
every day
every night
every hour
I see them all
parading around, full of joy
of hope
of meaning
I scan their faces for acknowledgement
hoping the light left in my eyes is still enough.
But they never peer upwards
instead they march forwards
their gazes transfixed on the day or night ahead
And I am left in the dark
waiting for new faces to reappear.
the bathroom toilet is gurgling
it sounds like it has the hiccups
a non-melodic, annoying, grating sound
my husband has shown me several times how to stop it
he can lightly touch the handle and it stops
I can lightly touch it eight times before it stops
annoyed by this too, I choose to listen to it
wishing we had the old toilets that did not make noise
Your hand taps on my arm
then points towards the door
now you have decided
that I can't work anymore
Logging on way too early
I'm due a break for sure
especially for someone
I don't want to ignore
You ask me for a story
one that we've shared before
I'm told I need to read it
sat on the bathroom floor
Time is always precious
who knows what's in store?
I'll always be your grand-dude
but you won't always be four.
I had a reason to clean some spaces this week
my art studio and two bathrooms
a guest was coming,
which is the only reason I ever clean
she did not have to use the restroom
I offered them to her six or seven times
all is not lost
it was nice for me to have a clean bathroom for a change
Fido took time watering the large tree
Forced to stand in line at dog park to pee
Fidgeting they can't hold it
Fearing to move they all sit
A pet peeve, with bladder concern; knock-knee
5/1/2024
There was a young woman from Crewe
So drunk that she puked in her shoe
The old biddy who saw
Dropped her mouth down in awe
For they were both using the loo
*I wrote this poem on January 6, 2024, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ January challenge. This was day 6 and the prompt was: “There was a young woman from Crewe…”
Sub Categories
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.