Best Bedsheets Poems
Fatcat,
Hairy nuisance
Sprawling over bedsheets
Crowding limited sleepspace with
Blubber.
Categories:
bedsheets, funny, pets,
Form:
Cinquain
It lies with it's kin in the bag they live in, collectively known as a 'float',
not quite sure why that's so but there's one thing I know
and that's they've never been near a boat.
They hustle and clatter , skins not coated in batter, in different hues, green, yellow, red,
there's a blue one, poor thing with a twisted wire spring
that's unused, I assume that he's dead.
From a hook under the stairs they will come out in pairs
although sometimes they will hunt in threes
when bedsheets they attack, or their jaws may just crack
as it fights them all off in the breeze.
If encountering a red one, for sure, you're a dead one,
it nips at your fingers and toes,
and when the timing is right it's a horrible sight on the tip of a young child's nose.
I can honestly state that they sometimes migrate
not a lot, since they always get caught,
but please take it from me, that I can guarantee on washdays you are always one short.
11th April 2018
For contest 'Bring to life', sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
bedsheets, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Loving your confidence, your
ambition, your drive. want to
be dominated by your power,
but not lost in your eyes. my
king ..may i be by your side,
your queen... stand against the
test of time, a unity, a
friendship, possibilities with you
seem limitless. My strength, my
rock..your protection shields
me, your touch heals me, you
are the epitimy of what I've
prayed for..other woman wish
to be me... Have the chance to
feel what I feel, be intertwined
with your body as you gently
caress mines. . Have me on a
high, body taken over by this
ecstasy that my soul can't
deny. Gratify my body, ratify
my mind, entangled in the
satisfaction of what still is yet
to come. I want to please u,
appease u, relieve you of the
daily stress. Only one thing..I
DEMAND respect and nothing
less. Respect my body, respect
my mind, be compassionate
with my heart, but don't waste
my time. I want to feel your
aggression..torture me with
passion... Claim me as your
possession. Mangled in your
bedsheets, accelerated is our
heartbeats. Anything you
want...I'll do willingly. I'll do it
all for you, just please don't
deceive. Love me, but don't lie
to me. Be a strong man, but
don't hide your feeling from
me, I will never judge, if u cry
to me, u are my man, my king,
I only wish to uplift you, live up
to what u expect from
me...your woman, your
queen..as long as we ride for
each other every bit of
happiness an longevity is in our
reach. I wait patiently for the
day when our paths do meet,
when you are more than just a
Dream to me.....
Categories:
bedsheets, boyfriend, desire, dream, for
Form:
Rhyme
Without Hue
WHITE
a sign in all caps meaning
forbidden
first class
clean and more importantly correct.
Bedsheets and tablecloths
flowing in the night
with madness most great
slowly blanketing the world’s peoples
in a snow of blond descent
while faces of the past that tainted African blood
stare back from the 21st century reflection
ever reminding that BROWN is a composite color.
BLACK
blindness that walks into a brick wall
songs of agony as tears stream down sweat laden faces
tempered by sun and strain
midnight with bleakness unimaginable.
Red and green Seventies' fists held pridefully
in defiant propriety as a word
became transformed from scorn to unity.
Ebony oneness that sounded better than
*****,
dying quietly into African-American.
BLACK is having no color, without hue.
WHITE is having no color, without hue.
Doesn’t that sound the same to you?
1/21/18
What is White?
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzi
5th place
Categories:
bedsheets, color, race,
Form:
Free verse
Wind: My head to my pillow, it sings me my song,
Rain: With dreams that you and I, together aren’t wrong,
Wind: Your imaginary voice, I touch your pure skin,
Rain: Though dreams are the only time together, our love is within,
Wind: Your bedsheets, my arms, caressing you so lightly,
Rain: My lips, your throat, kissing you so gently,
Wind: Our heartbeats a sync, our bodies a dance,
Rain: Moving gracefully in our true romance,
Wind: I hold your waist, cherish your skin,
Rain: I look into your eyes, get lost within them,
Wind: Together we become, one romantic Aether,
Rain: True kiss lay upon our lips, as we lay at last together,
Categories:
bedsheets, together,
Form:
All are cheating beds
Lying sheet to over cloth
Telling bed cloth to bed sheets
Categories:
bedsheets, fun,
Form:
Free verse
The day is conceived,
tossed bedsheets birth landscapes.
Apelike, a grin gawps.
In the backroom of a slow thought
I dress for breakfast -
recall the tropics,
sticky rice, coconut milk and
one huge river prawn,
all wrapped in a banana leaf.
Slipshod I slip away from that world
adjusting my internal optics.
A blueberry muffin with honey
on a checkered tablecloth,
lashings of watery sunshine.
That was yesterday or last year.
time can be as allusive
as a bottomless eggcup.
This absolute and irrevocable morning,
my gut burns from cheap Canadian whisky.
A mirror implanted into a watching mind
reflects only my belly flop
as I leg crawl into pants.
Less feral creatures than we castaway suburbanites,
gather to forage as the sky climbs
over the hedgerow.
I had a strange dream,
It could have been last night
or a faraway fear
returning from a place no-where near.
Maybe it was only a shadowland
cast upon a cranial wall,
a peeling mural
upon which sermons and bibles
were hung like bats
from dead apple trees.
The kitchen counter
has a note on it:
“Gone to church, there’s
bread in the toaster
we have run out of butter – love you.”
There is an over-ripe banana
by the coffeemaker.
I eat it.
Categories:
bedsheets, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
In my shirts your touch
In my tea your moonlit shade
In my boat your rhythmic swing
Since you left this house
All blue-green leaves have wilted
Smoke irritates my lone lungs
I first tried the books
Your intense eyes on each page
On bedsheets your brown hairclip
I look for warm breath
All in vain it's just a void
Emptiness crushing my ribs
Do you know the truth
In my heart for you there is
In your mind for me there is
A thing we call love
A rivulet of champagne
The flow of which never ends
In half-bloomed starlight
Where the fireflies share their tales
Where fall toop toop dews from night
I ask them of you
Have my diamond gone to morgue
To enrich my depressed dream
Categories:
bedsheets, heartbreak, miss you,
Form:
Sedoka
Try to get out of bed early, try to make your bed. Inhale.
Your off-white bedsheets haven’t been washed in a month.
Try purchasing a new detergent, one of those that’s petal-scented:
2 in 1 Aroma Boost Spring Daydream Wash.
Try smiling in the mirror; especially
If you have dimples. They’re the new “it” thing.
Inhale. Do yoga.
Do yoga and dance. Catch your breath.
Go on YouTube and search up Boho Beautiful, pretend
you’re a clean-girl white-flare has-it-together pilates almond mom.
Make a protein powder banana-peanutbutter shake. Ignore its soil taste.
Inhale and purchase some lululemon leggings.
Write out your feelings. Inhale. Lie to your journal about
the ache hosted in your ribs.
Call it your “self-reflective daily diary,” where you
Write about a fond memory, your [insert therapy term] place, pretend
your year-long headache isn’t pumping your eyes out anymore.
Write about your childhood. Write about the dog you never had.
Act like you finally know what’s caused your hollow.
Travel. Book your Ryanair all-exclusive roundtrip to
Hanoi. Book a tourist bus. Go on a zip line.
There, you will find yourself, and when that stranger
Puts a conical hat on your head
You will thank them for healing you.
You will return, completely changed, smelling
Like hibiscus flowers. Inhale and call your friends.
They’d love to hear from you. Just not
during your 5 AM seeping into icy bathroom floor tiles,
or the third day in which you’ve needed to take extra sleeping pills
that made the window light look hazy.
Call them. Just make sure it isn’t during their own
self-reflective cinnamon candle eating ritual.
NEED MORE TIPS ON HOW TO FEEL BETTER?
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Inhale. There’s still time to save yourself.
Categories:
bedsheets, bereavement, depression, endurance, hyperbole,
Form:
Free verse
As the sun sets
and the twilight comes out,
as the birds and squrriels are no where in sight.
As the whores and pimps sit on street corners,
waiting for street lights to turn from green to red.
As cadillacs stop and roll their windows down.
I can her the faint cry deep in the darkness,
of dirty gutters and dark, dead end alleyways,
I hear the faint tears fall and hit concrete pavement.
I feel the faint cries of whores,
I hear the sound of backhand hitting face
and brused tissue and broken noses are everywhere.
And the somber tears fall onto pillow cases,
and white motel bedsheets run red with blood
and cheap Italian wine.
And you can her the poet over the radio,
reading his own work for the one millionth time
and you can hear his soul slowly wanting to die.
He drowns himself in smoke and alcohol
the whore takes her pay, or spends a night in a jail cell,
the pimp nowhere to be found,
with a shiny blade stuck deep in his gut.
And the somber tears fall gently on the concrete pavement,
the floors of a jail cell,
tears on the pillow case and tears on a lonesome stage.
Tears never present, but are seen by many,
pain aches and pain takes away,
and I pour one more drink for the whore.
She takes me away,
and I caught her salty, somber tear,
and she crawled into my warm embrace.
I was the one who stuck the blade in the gut of that pimp,
who broke her nose and made her bleed,
with a cowardess and souless backhand.
I walk into the moonlight,
hearing the somber tears all around me,
crash violently to the concrete pavement.
The Earth rumbles and erupts with these tears,
that are shead for fellow Men, and Women and Children,
but we all look at ourselves and smile.
Happy we don't pay rent,
happy we don't have cancer,
happy we aren't six feet under;
But we still all cry,
Why?
Somber tears all fall in one big wave
crashing violently on the concrete pavement.
Now the red light turns green,
and the traffic moves along,
the whore is still at her corner,
the pimp still with the blade in his gut.
Categories:
bedsheets, abuse, beautiful, beauty, bereavement,
Form:
Free verse
Basically,
bashful
brownish
brazen
bugs
besotted
by
bubbling
blood
browse
between
bedsheets…
best
brief:
better
banish
before
bedtime;
beware
body
bites!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: Tautogram Poems
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Placed 3rd
© 26th October 2019
Categories:
bedsheets, light, poetry,
Form:
Tautogram
Barcelona looked like a church
as I walked down La Rambla
in search of a vacant room
on that warm morning.
The balconies of the flanking
high-rise apartments were pews
festooned with holy day
football flags and bedsheets.
The white haired flower seller
sat silently with his serrated scissors
and buckets of sugar water
as if listening to a confession.
People who passed me
on that righteous path
became parishioners
with detailed back stories.
The mustachioed man walking
his dog near the grass
was a lapsed Catholic
and Spanish novelist
taking a break from
the tapping of the typewriter.
The chubby middle-aged lady
in high heels and a skirt,
who carried folders and puffed
on a quick thin cigarette,
was a museum secretary
with the curator's copies
and a mother who cooked up
fish and paella for her children
every Friday during Lent.
The invisible clouds that
wafted from the restaurants
smelling of grilled seafood
and lemons and garlic
were like the prayers that a
priest's incense personified.
I later spent a humble evening
in a small rented room
washing my socks and
shorts in the white sink
and reading the boxscores
and baseball epistles
from a day old New York Times.
I studied batting averages
as my underclothes slowly dried
on the back of a wooden chair
with the help of an electric fan.
Categories:
bedsheets, allegory, baptism, jesus, religious,
Form:
Free verse
Wind: My head to my pillow, it sings me my song,
Rain: With dreams that you and I, together aren’t wrong,
Wind: Your imaginary voice, I touch your pure skin,
Rain: Though dreams are the only time together, our love is within,
Wind: Your bedsheets, my arms, caressing you so lightly,
Rain: My lips, your throat, kissing you so gently,
Wind: Our heartbeats a sync, our bodies a dance,
Rain: Moving gracefully in our true romance,
Wind: I hold your waist, cherish your skin,
Rain: I look into your eyes, get lost within them,
Wind: Together we become, one romantic Aether,
Rain: True kiss lay upon our lips, as we lay at last together,
Categories:
bedsheets, lovetogether,
Form:
Romanticism
Darkness moves to cover the clouds and sunlight,
Twilight arrives suddenly changing daytime,
Blissful moment motivates rest and clubbing,
Ready for shower.
Bedsheets laid to retire to sleep with pleasure,
Cruising slowly ,going through foreign regions,
Danger reigns as wickedness blooms all night through,
Time not sufficient.
OLUSEGUN AROWOLO
CONTEST:"SAPPHIC STANZA" sponsored by Craig Cornish.
Categories:
bedsheets, life, night,
Form:
Sapphic stanza
The telephone rang..
What am I supposed to do?
The intoxicated feeling:
Amidst rugs, warm blankets, pillows
and crumbled bedsheets
Overpowered me,
So I let myself free.
The room was blank:
Windows painted blue.
Music system that has been quiet for a year now;
And other furniture here and there..
I lay half asleep:
Pretty and fair.
The world was no longer a bad place
The people were generous.
I had found love again:
But I needed to escape!
Escape from the falsity of life,
Escape from immortality of soul,
Escape from the green eyes of humans,
Escape from the damage of the hateful..
Is it possible to escape the rumour called life?
Or is it impossible to escape the reality called death..?
~~Thank You for the reviews and comments~~
Categories:
bedsheets, life, philosophy,
Form:
Verse