Best Bath Poems
"Age is only a number. Think young, stay young, enjoy life and be thankful. Words I live by." By Poet...
Now come,
let's learn from wisdom.
Sunsets are the doorway to the moon,
ending the day with bright colors.
Memories are made as the moon turns full,
shining down with love.
Wisdom is how we learn,
from the good and bad,
sometimes making us bitter.
Life is short,
so throw the bad and bitter out like cold bath water.
Always remember age is only a number,
fifty is half a century but so what?
I say "Happy Birthday" to the new half century,
Hooray!!!
You arouse the nascent
poetry of my trembling Psyche,
homing the heavy heart of
calm constellations
within this conscience,
teaching sleepless silence
between my sky and your river
to speak the lucent
lexicon of languor ~
I felt you amidst unvoiced verses,
and I k i s s e d the
music within your mind
from a plethora of petals away,
as the truth undressed me
to cleanse the confusion,
while hope embraces
the vulnerability
of being seen ~
the closing of the arms of gloaming
and the opening of the eyes of sunrise…
I breathe metaphors
into the mysterious mists of midnight,
embrace the beauty of darkness
that once drowned my spirit,
for I learned that healing
cares not for the heinous heat
of the Stygian sun,
burning the ink that feeds
the desire to dance
free from the faceless ghosts…
I am the rebloom of the light
I feared
was l o s t in the
landscape of lament…
I choose to bathe
in the warm waters
of jasmine elegance,
sipping sultry star-beams
as my aura flowers ~
a cathartic sanctuary
where your pulse
becomes the life
that ebbs and flows
in sync with the sacred incarnate
of ripples reaching for the
soul beneath my soles ~
reminding me
of the rhythm of resilience,
to no longer allow
time to tear
the written chronicles
that even distance
couldn’t resist.
It’s in the stars; it’s our destiny.
So listen
~ meteor magic ~
O dream-reviver ~
my passion, scripted;
the angels sing of you and me,
lyrics of luck
and love-laden lore…
Today there are no rubber ducks, no flawless hues,
To hide behind, as we once did.
This day is dark, and gray and dreary,
Air thick with the scent of decay and mold,
Dull light filters in through the window,
Casting a somber tone across everything.
Even the freesia suds have gone bad,
The water in the tub is murky, opaque and grim,
Waves unseparated as the day that holds them.
When we were good kids, peering out,
From behind our good mother,
We got good glimpses, sucked on butterscotch chips,
The new neighbor, the smell of fresh sunflowers; it was fun.
But the old neighbor, who finally stopped coming around,
He was not good,
Over steeped dandelion tea, a benign-sounding thing,
Bitter and dry, sometimes salty; it was not fun.
As gray as this day, as this water, when I knew him,
He knew me, too.
I sink deeper into the swirling, whirling, and I think of things,
Dirty-water cyclone, the brightness of our childhood,
Harder to recall, I still remember the rubber ducks though.
Splashing them about, their cheerful colors and silly grins,
We knew joy,
But that bright spot is fading, and soon it too will disappear,
Down the drain, with this gray water and my leftover filth.
Mixing it all together,
In the stillness of the moment, I am struck,
The heavy inevitability of happiness; the transience of loss.
As bad as this day, that man, with his dreary gray hues,
I hang my head back and give a loud, guttural laugh at it now,
The memory of those yellow, plastic birds.
Especially since today there are no rubber ducks, no flawless hues,
To hide behind, as we once did.
I lay there in the dirty bath water;
unable to raise myself up, like a
dog in quicksand, I wondered if I
should just yelp, or die, as the
grey water ran into my dream
and eye
I must have pulled something,
a muscle, a nerve, or a bank heist,
it wasn’t clear
this must be the same as having
a stroke, I thought; not being able
to use one side, a baby, a dog, waiting
for help.
And when I eventually rolled myself out,
and the arm came back to life, I vowed
never to bathe again, unless it was with
my wife.
by Robert ( Bob) Moore © 2015
When I was a kid with a dirty neck
my mam would scream “wash it”, I’d run like ‘eck
grow spuds in your ears, she’d yell at me
I didn’t care, I couldn’t see
I’d go as long as I could, thinking nothing was wrong
Till somebody said, boy, you sure do pong
then out with the bathtub, hot water and soap
scrub till your raw, with a sponge felt like rope
Then off to bed, all clean and sleek
won’t need another, least not for a week
then it will start, all over again
Having a bath, it was such a pain
3,334 years ago tomorrow
the Israelites crossed the Sea
If they had all drowned instead
today I wouldn’t be me…
The Sea split in half, all the books say
and so did water in every bath
from Lebanon to Babylonaey
So, throughout the ancient world people heard the news
of the good fortune that landed at the feet of the Jews…
But God wouldn’t let the angels celebrate
‘The Egyptians are drowning, don’t jubilate’
So why is Moses singing, the angels asked then ~
A dime in the jukebox bought a lot of 45s way back when
________________________________________________
Note: All this stuff actually happened, except I'm not so sure
if dimes worked in early jukeboxes... Gotta google that.
I sit here shaking in this warm water
The pain has come, for my life to barter.
Should i do it, let everything go.
I grab that razor and never let go.
I tilt my head back and take a breath
I soon feel the pain inside my chest.
My heart is pounding faster and faster.
I think in my head now I\'m the master.
Cutting and cutting away that pain
as the blood drips down, my life slowly fades.
I drop the blade, and watch it fade, into the
Bath of blood that i have made.
Everythings gone, my life to.
into that red liquid, that makes me and you.
i am now free of all that pain, and all the suffering that never went away.
So now i lay here in my Bath of blood, looking down in at the soapy suds. Was it
a dream or was it a fantasy.
I look at my wrists....and they still bleed.
Rebecca wrinkles her itty bitty nose and giggles
Loads of soapy bubbles almost over her head
Warm soothing water still running noisily
Holding on to her precious Little Mermaid doll
Rebecca reaches over to quiet the flow
Ah the echo of silence! How magically delightful !
Now her singing lesson can begin
As she plays with her mermaid friend
Reenacting a world of aquatic fantasy
Belting out every Little Mermaid song
One day Rebecca will be a superstar
But today she’s just another mermaid having fun
AP: 2nd place 2020
Submitted on March 30, 2019 for contest SPECIFICITY IN POETRY sponsored by SHERI FRESONKE HARPER - RANKED 5TH
Playdays Nursery Rhyme
Your rainy play day comes to an end
Running and jumping in puddles with friends
Creating rain paintings – making mud pies
Wearing warm rain coats – boots with googly eyes.
Time for a “tubbie” to wash off the mud
Duckies and bubbles – rub-a-dub-dub
Wrap up in a towel so fluffy and warm
Now jump into bed - cozy, safe from the storm.
Stories then prayers as you close your eyes
Dream of the days when snow fills up the skies – Night! Night!
10-12-21
Contest: Nursery Rhymes
Sponsor: Eve Rooper
all aspects of our self
beauteous is each hue
bubbling spontaneously
letting vibrancy renew
undiminished is elation
equal are dark and light
for God is omnipresent
heightening bliss delight
every breath is a miracle
as is rhythmic heartbeat
the vast void conspires
that love may love greet
unfettered like the breeze
soma nectar freely flows
all nodes within come alive
as rapture unbound grows
07-February-2023
B lindfolded he leads her down the hall,
A nticipation makes her start to giggle.
T here he lets her dress slide slipping to the floor,
H anding her a red rose he removes the blindfold.
F ascination shows in her excited face,
O ver the floor is a carpet of rose petals,
R ed candles have turned the washroom into a spa.
T he scent of perfumed water fills their senses,
W ater spills as he draws her into the tub.
O ne heart and one soul become one.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.04.2014
Regina Riddles Contest: Romantic Acrostic
1st place win
A BUG IN A BATH
I'm what you call a bug
When humans see me they go UHG
Humans don't care about my needs
Or my sometimes good deeds
But such bothersome things
Roll right off my wings
When I can dip my feet
Blistered from the heat
In the bird bath for which I'm looking
When on a hot day I'm cooking
But the frog over there
Is beginning to stare
I'm sure he sees me as a meal that's free
So I'll jump quick in this pool
And swim fast like a fool
BECAUSE
A nice cooling splash
And this bug revives fast
Bath Time
Every evening
around about five
I pinch my cellulose
to make sure I’m alive.
Long-ago-child
last rings in my tub
now soaps up her own kids,
rub a dub dub.
Towels at attention,
the bathroom is dry
if I need a re-run
my daughter’s near-by.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
November 24, 2012
At times
you've gotta shed that burlap rabbit
bang the beat of a neon lynx
inhale some twilight grime and grit
uncork that sticky- cologne soul
embrace all the cuts and nicks...
Be bold as dirty gold
a shark painting shadows on the shoal
slashing life to the bone,,,
Sling a pair of homemade dice
against the black lips of midnight.
smoke some cherry wood thighs
with that magic wand of desire
play dominoes with rusted hearts
grease the soul with halo rind
toss the sprig of caution to the stream....
sometimes you've gotta take a dirt bath
to come clean.
Green monster of foam
lands on a bright pink seashell
on my bath towels