Beds Poems - Poems about Beds

SIX WOMEN PATIENTS Six broken women lay down to rest brown bodies all in a row six long stories to tell with jest six smiles with a million tears race around ward releasing fears just so Six windows uncurtained offers six sunny acacias buffered trolleys reel, pills and bottles steep surgeon makes his rounds with a nod six students...

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Babble on, Babylon!— The bell is bellowing Its booming bane! Bastards and baseborn bumblers Beware, and beg bitterly for better Birth above! O’ you bashful, bawdry bunch!...

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I'm a fruit of the tree of life with knowledge of the unknown What I'm known to leave floats above trees with grown broken branches I've grown to see that not all soil is fertile as many seeds are left to languish & toil The grounds are barren for the unyielding & those sowing with dirty intent to spoil Foiling that type of harvest is light work as I'm...

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A steady beep Not steady beep - jaunty tune I don't like you jaunty tune Whilst no one is running in maybe I sit calm I like to stand up and slightly move a wire or send messages from my brain to the machine, tell it no Steady beep, sit down They'll come soon to improve quality of life but...

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Where we sleep there might be quilts Or comforters or spreads Or blankets made in varied styles To warm us in our beds. Some might prefer a cashmere throw Or one hand-knit in wool, While others cozy up to down And can’t resist its pull. A cotton blanket, or velour, Keeps many feeling snug, While weighted covers, loved by few, In most evoke a shrug. A...

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I drown in my sorrows At all times They seem to Consume me I wish there was a way To defeat them To turn them off But they continue to Flow out of me Rushing like a Waterfall Never ending I hate when I get like This but I don’t Seem to do a damn thing about it I continue to drown It’s going to wear Me down & age me I fear Erode away From...

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I am enjoying a slumbering Ginger cat said to pumpkin vine. A beautiful day it is to sleep of my jug of catnip wine. Pumpkin vine understood and gave Ginger cat a snuggly spot. On a warm October day when some other pumpkins did rot. Why do you keep looking wonderful? Asked another pumpkin, Lee. I think it is because...

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I am enjoying a slumbering Ginger cat said to pumpkin vine. A beautiful day it is to sleep of my jug of catnip wine. Pumpkin vine understood and gave Ginger cat a snuggly spot. On a warm October day when some other pumpkins did rot. Why do you keep looking wonderful? Asked another pumpkin, Lee. I think it is because...

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A push-button blood alarm scans the receptivity of softly ticking ears. It is the ever-wakening never snoozing internet jungle calling. Fasting birds as large as velociraptors insist on being called parrots, a raucous conversation hardly heard as it filters through 3-D printed flugelhorns. A cell awakes vibrates within an ear socket demanding its early morning diaper change. Little silver bells are clanging, A sub-audial cacophony of eager voices discharging...

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Over little mothers fret: Their babies who still beds wet; Lionesses in A Net! Its stoppage they’d celebrate: High time their doctor they met And out their frustrations let… And Doc begins to Mum pet, Drying tear-filled eyes long wet: Some placebo drug would get And Fine Solution is set! “Babes shall pee; I did no bet: Time frees them from The odd Net Only trying to...

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Diminished but ennobled, the soldier came home his two limbs traded for the sanctuary of a deeper peace Broken in completeness, his braces held proud each battle medaled in the memory —of his finest hour (The New Room: November, 2021)...

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Old beds reinventing themselves as hammocks for the distilling of sweat and foam into an archive of dreams. Sprung mattress’ sag like spavined camels, or twist days and nights together into sheets stuffed with mental laundry. Some beds have fallen comatose, they wilt like boneless owls in slumbering hollows. Beds keep their history recorded in the brain-stems of a thousand bodily impressions; beneath lumpy mattresses horror movies...

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There are oyster beds at the bottom of the sea. That's where we get pearls. ...

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Men to step on Cats beds Floor mats He slips on beds It sleeps on mats What a wonderful World?...

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the goslings have shed ochre puffs which are no longer in vogue, they're wobbling toddlers now too big for the snappers' jaw ...

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