Best Baby Carriage Poems
Neither puppy love nor lust, each insists
in its imperfect play. Their hearts resist
both by clinging in its barbaric way.
Youth forgiven. The wolf begs her to stay.
But a commitment is made in marriage.
It is not found in a baby carriage.
What do we know of love - it’s not first sight.
It is the highs and lows - bond holds on tight.
Love’s patient, kind, not selfish nor boastful.
It’s the making of memories - joyful.
To let go of bitterness’ a decision.
Poof like magic, the wrongs are forgiven.
Black and blues, the stumbles and falls, gets up
on the horse - believers climb to the top.
~
Now what of those years, of the worse decrease?
Does the sorrow make the better cerise?
Does the white-gowned wife, handsome groom resume
as if the bond is pruned, roses in bloom?
Yes, the rivulets of tears reverent.
The jubilee melody resonant.
When love is stirred with sugar and nettles,
sorrow’d years melt. Felicitous petals
land on silver hair and wrinkles. O God!
Yes, three cords complete and restore the flawed.
Love protects, hopes, perseveres in trials.
The truth of a lifetime's years in their smiles.
Shakespeare regales Summer’s hot gaze, short days.
Yet love stoked in the Winter’s hearth - O blaze!
1/30/2021
What Is Love
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Hybronnet is similar to a sonnet, can have a variable rhyme scheme,
does not have to be iambic meter. The poet is given liberty to choose how to structure the rhyme of the Hybronnet poem into a combination of rhymes be it slant, feminine, masculine, etc. or apply it in any design deemed appropriate
90 down the expressway and I’m handling this stick
I am the true definition of a ride or die chick
Changing lanes, swerving in and out of traffic
Head in your lap, and I’m working my magic
Doing things to you that you’ll never forget
I thought I told you from the start that I’m an exhibitionist
You can take me anywhere, I don’t care who sees
Say you want it now and I will fall to my knees
I don’t care who’s watching, I hope they enjoy the show
Mind blowing sex like this, they will never know
The original Mrs. Nasty, Janet stole that name
I enjoy it nice and slow, but I thrive off the pain
Take a hit of me, and I’ll control your mind
Believe me when I tell you, I am one of a kind
I don’t want your money; keep your diamonds and pearls
Not a gold digger, a money sniffer, I’m not a material girl
I just need a Mandingo warrior who can rock my world
I am not the quiet type. I’ll loudly scream and shout.
I dont want to make love, just tryin' to get my back blown out
I don’t want to be your baby’s momma; you can keep the baby carriage
I’m not trying to lock you down; I don’t want your hand in marriage
This is just a booty call, a sexual relationship
Please don’t get too clingy, I don’t want your commitment
I might call you Papi, when I need a helping hand
Or I may not call you at all. This was just a one night stand
Oh Love- how it sweeps in and grabs two hearts
It makes two souls never want to part
The excitement and wonder that feels the spirit
Negates any cynicism, it just won't hear it
There's courting, commitment, even marriage
Time brings a bundle in a baby carriage
Circumstances get harder and money gets tight
It often feels that nothing goes right
Words are spoken and feelings get sore
It just isn't the way it was before
The fighting gets frequent-- part of everyday life
He shuts down and she's a discontented wife
They both hurl around the word divorce
And after the battles, there's no remorse
The mind rules the ego and shuts down the heart
Husband and wife spend more time apart
Baby's in the middle; it's a cryin' shame
Mommy and Daddy are pointing the blame
Somthing's got to give, what will it be?
Could love be gone so completely?
Save it or leave it are the only two choices
Listen to your heart and no other voices.
An unholy pink plus sign on the stick,
Oh think of what her admirers will say!
Contemplating ideas till she's sick.
When he finds out, will they still be okay?
Does she pay the price? Can she even dare?
Will she allow it to see the first day?
Terminate it now, or should she be fair?
Is she ready for the price she must pay?
What happened to that holy Christian girl?
Who once believed 'abstinence till marriage?'
Her present actions make her want to hurl.
Does her fate involve a baby carriage?
A decision is made, shaky fingers.
Violent trembling hands pull the trigger.
Love and marriage
Love and marriage
Go together like
A...something and carriage
....cause that rhymes
He loves me
He loves me not
She loves me
But...maybe, not
....cause I don't think I'm lovable
We're going to the chapel
And we're gonna get married
....cause, well, that's what pretty girls do
But...what if I'm not pretty
Johnny and Mary
Sittin' in a tree
K-I-SS-I-N-G
First comes love
Then comes marriage
Then comes a baby
In...a...baby....carriage
....cause that's the order of things, right
I think I'm barren
College, Great Job
Excellent Man to provide
Then a nice house and car
To show the world I've arrived
...where
For pity's sake, would someone tell me
........where are we going????
Something is missing from
The facts we've been given
No matter how much information we have
Something HUGE is missin'
Two means difference
It provides humanity a choice
But if we lean to one side
The other has no voice
....how do we know TRUTH
It has to be on the line
....in the expression of the = sign
Written by Trudy Schrader on 07-15-2018
I make my own pickles but they're no good.
When it comes to eating them, no one should.
They're even worse than the ones Aunt Bee made.
If you ever eat one, you'd better be afraid.
They taste like kerosene even though they're dill.
Don't eat my pickles, they've been known to kill.
A woman wanted some rat poison but she used my pickles instead.
In less than five minutes, every rat in her house was dead.
A man just took a bite of one of my pickles and he's gone blind.
If the dumbass had listened to me, he wouldn't be in this bind.
A lady wasted her money when she bought a baby carriage.
She ate one of my pickles and then she had a miscarriage.
If you come to my house, you'd better listen to me on the double.
Don't you dare eat one of my pickles or you will be in trouble.
(This is a fictional poem.)
From the day of birth,we are so innocent and fair,
With nothing on our minds, no troubles no cares.
Learning to talk was a major deaster,
For no one could tell exactly what was the matter.
We cry and we screem ,to show we are in pain,
They dont seem to understand and we though that was mean.
So of to the doctors we went that day,
Only to have the doctor tell Mom im ok.
Learning to walk got me bumps and bruses,
But its what we must do ,im sure no one chouses.
Climbing up the stairs , got me in trouble,
On the way down, i wished i were in a bubble.
After mastering that feat , it was off to school,
Because my mom said im not raising no fool.
In grade one i had a hard time with girls,
They would walk up to me and flick thier curls.
Things start to look up as i got older,
But you know those girls only got bolder.
They made me laugh,and they made me cry,
Some made me happy and filled with joy.
Then came love and next was marriage,
Two years time i was pushing a baby carriage.
Going back over my trials of life,
I knew my baby girl was in for a long fight.
But its the highway we all must travel,
In order to get to this level.
My little girl will be doing this one day,
Ill be in heaven watching her in every way.
You see im much older and dont have a lot of time,
To watch my two baby girls grow up and look so fine.
God is calling me to another life,
But he said on this highway ,there will be no strife.
Your fears and your troubles will all go away,
When you take this highway ,your with me to stay.
They will come joing you when its thier time,
But for now they must follow thier own minds.
So if you have kids , guide them with care,
They will grow up with nothing to fear.
Teach them right from wrong each day.
For the HIGHWAY OF LIFE isent always what they say.
One day just like that she began. A little smudge no bigger than God's thumb.
Forgetting old bones and scarred memories she was born one early March.
A lion in a baby carriage roaring and carrying on as if she had just been
flapped to the moon. The old perambulator squeaked as two strong hands
clutched the bar and rocked up and down. Moms cherry red lips whispered
in the winter wind as the snow fell softly all around.
The angels created origami wings and fluttering them around her
like white sail boat masts, entertained her to no end as the sun
shone down with all its strength.
Was the world ready for a super-girl filled with superpowers of delusional dimensions? Where they ready for her free-will descension?
The Earth winked at the stars and the sun cradled the moon. V was propelled to a palladium planet by an introspective God who watched from heaven's big screen as a tiny by-product of a dismantled placenta, a backlash of an Infinite Spirit's creation, a clairvoyant child with a good dose of E.S.P. , was suddenly back on Planet B .
God rolling up the parchment scroll gave out a sigh of relief.
It took as many years for her to mature as a fig on a southern tree.
But grow up she did and oh the things she achieved, who knew ?
to be continued...
The movers came to clean out my house,
And said to one another
“Let’s remove ALL the furniture!
The baby carriage and accessories
have served their purpose.
That old stuff is nothing but clutter now.
Don’t let the mother see us
take everything out.
She might want to save her heirlooms:
uterus, cervix, tubes and ovaries.
They really must go,
and it’s better to move them all at once.
Let’s make it quick.
We’ve got other cleaning jobs today, too.”
My baby’s room is empty.
The movers sealed off the space and left.
Where did my baby furniture go?
Was it handled with utmost care?
Will it be reused or recycled?
As owner for decades,
why did I believe their “better out than in”
prevention strategy and problem-solving remedy?
Who decided that I could live
without furniture anyway?
Will that area of my house shrink
for lack of occupancy?
Will the vacuum bring ecstasy, grief or pain?
Will the plumbing to my bathroom expand?
Hist er rec to me!
Does anyone understand why the head of my house
grapples with questions at hand?
There will be catastrophic damages to our
great nation, if we elect the Project 2025
conservative administration..
They plan to holt all carbon emission goals and
return to drilling oil and gas and coals..
Begin the largest mass deportation.
Eliminate the Department of Education.
Adopt the biblical definition for marriage: a man,
and a woman and a baby carriage..
Those Justices who Roe vs Wade did kill, now
plan to ban the abortion pill.
Aiming at the "awoke agenda", to end equality
and inclusion, the message they render..
Planning to criminalize p.o.r.n., which has been
around way before most of us were born..
Repay there big donors that had their backs by
heavily reducing their corporate tax..
Ending the three branches of gov., a long standing
tradition, by placing the Department of Justice
under the Executive position.
All government employees will have no job protections,
the end of our Republic, a very sad projection..
As a child she wasn't allowed to own pets
always pretending to be a kitty herself as an outlet
now on her own and retired she owned a dozen cats
preferring them over dogs thinking this is where its at,
They'd dart here and there and follow her around
some hanging from the ceiling fans about to plop down
on her hair or her shoulders while she sat on the couch
watching Animal Planet with a cheshire grin on her mouth,
Every day she'd play her most favorite song
"Whats New Pussycat?" while singing along
picking up a cat or two and dancing around
while the other cats did acrobats on the ground,
Feeling antsy she'd take them out for a walk
all piled in a baby carriage people would talk
with her cats meowing and causing quite a commotion
she'd soothe them with her baby talk and cat like motions,
Her neighbors would try their hardest not to stare
as the crazy cat lady would pass by with feline flair
always asking how she was, yet knowing what to expect
her constant reply always being, "just purrrrrrfect!"
1-6-17
Broken records been playing.
Playing there for your Pain.
They're played there
By the great teacher, Ma$ter No Name.
Where for art thou Blood Stain?
I'm the water of the mother of a New age
Day breaks,
only the chosen will be allowed passage
On the mother ship's baby carriage.
Step right up, my child
Must be this tall to ride
The death train of My funeral bride
You can run but you can't hide
The broken cisterns that hold your lies
I Rolled the stone away to see
And on the other side saw me
Kitchen music......
Dishes....Pots and pans clash.
We sit.....I order water......
YES....Give us a minute to decide
Sports conversation.....Whose better.....Best players.....Scores.....Future predications
A slight glance over my shoulder.
Jolted by hazel eyes and a pure smile.
In an instance, felt I was stuck for a million years but only for a minuscule while.
The revelation appered quickly at that glance.
Our life together, like movie reels, captured, as she faded in an intance
First smile.....hug....kiss
First night of anticipation.
First time....First thought of the child.
First companion consideration.
Wedding bells.....I hold back tears
My thought....The years chasing and running after love.
Now baby carriage we shove.
And slowly he grew and moved out one day. Left in an instance and instantly I was
taken back to that instant. When I had nothing to say.
I hate wet socks.
I'm knee-deep with diapers floating by.
The steel stairs steps (that go up!)
Just 10 feet from me.
Seawater pouring in from every orifice.
I'd be dead already if I had not bribed the head caterer.
Snagged me a spot 2 levels up
From what is now completely submerged.
I start breast-stroking it through the brackish,
Freezing water.
If I had kids I'd be out of my mind right now.
Tilt! We're tilting!
Arm-straining though sideways-ing water now.
Made it to the steel bars but
Awkward as all heck making any progress.
Scaling Shroeder's stairs,
I hear sounds of mayhem above the open square
The steel stairs lead me.
Shouts of "3 boats left! 3 boats left!"
I emerge onto the upper level
And onto a sliding ballroom.
Hoisting my rump onto the dancefloor
I was met instantly by a wheeled baby carriage
Zooming into my face. No baby.
Black sea water was rushing through the windows
on the lower side of the flickeringly lit ballroom.
A martini glass, magically half-full, swerves into my sliding lap.
A pick it up and slug it back as I brace for
The ocean water I'm rushing towards.
I was 2nd place in breast stroke in the state.
I never thought it would come in handy.
That night I got 5 kids into the last few boats
And then went down with the ship.
Just before losing consciousness,
Descending into the dark oceanic abyss
I could still feel my dreadful socks.
My last thought, still,
Hating wet socks.
Three questions should be illegal to ask,
First, Have you found love?
Second, Have you found Marriage,
Third, Do you have a baby in the baby carriage
They all say “we just want you to be happy baby doll”
This is why so many drink alcohol.
Useful responses to make questioning end,
First, I found my best friend,
Second, Have you been divorced before?
Third, Was it the pills you skipped?,
Or the amount of Martinis or Malibu Rums made your little Theodore
I try to make good decisions, don't be mad,
I don't frown on your bad decisions,
Cant help you dressed scantly clad,
I'm not god, I try not to judge,
Depending on the source,
It can be like eating fudge,
Others drama from bad choices,
I can hear heavenly voices,
“This is why you wait!
Your life, your decisions,
there's no room for debate”.