Best Binned Poems
They say sticks and stones may break my bones but I
came face to face with a wall today.
I keep on searching but I'm lost
I keep on climbing but I'm falling
I'm walking but your pulling me back
Haven't you had enough of the scars that I already have
I'm shouting with no voice
I'm crying but the well within is dried up
Gravity keeps on pulling me back
Katrina keeps on coming back
Its dark where can I find the light
I'm chained, trapped, binned-ed by this chains
I can't breath your suffocating me
I can't sleep your controlling my life
I'm shouting and kicking but your laughing
Im torn apart and bleeding
You see the the beauty on the outside but I'm dying
within.
Categories:
binned, body, dark, life, pain,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Forgive me PS for I have sinned,
I’ve posted a poem I ought to have binned,
I have read many poems without leaving a word,
And wonder why my opinion’s unheard,
The odd shameless plug is not beyond me,
(My e-book’s on Amazon if you’d like to see!)
I’ve spent too many hours creating a poem,
When there’s plenty of housework waiting at home,
Not to mention my hogging of all the broadband,
It’s not fair on my man, he pays for it and,
He deserves his far share that’s clear to see,
So I’m asking PS would you please forgive me?
Categories:
binned, forgiveness, on writing and
Form:
Rhyme
The Bible says we are all made in God's image,
in every way we're a match,
so why can't I reach part of my shoulder blades
from above or below for a scratch?
The Good Lord resides in the Heavens above,
perfection, where nothing can fail,
so why can't I lift my foot up far enough
on my other leg to clip my nails?
God is immaculate, he stands incorrupt,
in all aspects nothing he lacks,
so why is my fingertip just that bit short
when I'm clearing my earhole of wax?
Is it because Adam and Eve were perfect until
they disobeyed God and they sinned,
and everyone born after that had their faults,
the original model God binned?
And that is why though we are all sinners now
because of the choices they made,
the Good Lord had mercy, invented the spoon
so that I can reach my shoulder blade.
Categories:
binned, humanity, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
A waste paper basket, a trash can, a bin
Whatever you call it, some things won’t stay in
The things that you write
Long into the night
May make, when discarded… one hell of a din
*
Don’t write by moonlight at midnight
Do not trash your tale late at night
For powers unseen
And terribly mean
May use it to give you a fright
I know, for it happened to me
I tell for I need you to see
I binned every word
And later I heard
A screech of malevolent glee
*
I lie wide awake in my bed
My discarded verse in my head
I tiptoe downstairs
With prickling neck hairs
For something smells like it’s long dead
A full moon sheds just enough light
In the room where I sit down to write
But somehow I know
It won’t let me go
This thing I created tonight
It lives for it never can die
I think I now understand why
I wrote about strife
My words gave it life
And you can’t kill words, though you try
The waste paper basket taunts me
It’s dark in the room but I see
A claw on its rim
My thoughts turn to Grimm
It mutters my name… and I flee
Categories:
binned, horror, writing,
Form:
Limerick
keeper of the house,
the toilet sparkler,
the bowl pristine
inside and out ready
to be esteemed.
the sink’s polished white,
the grime and dust, binned.
the shower, scoured,
rinsed, repeat.
repétér, Sam,
i’m not a slave.
‘tis an honor.
Categories:
binned, work,
Form:
Free verse
I’m fighting myself,
Myself within,
I can’t break free,
It’s pulling me in,
I forged my potion,
Now I’m binned and cursed,
If I turn away,
Would I free the thirst,
The evil within,
Craving possession and sin,
It haunts my ghost,
And fevers my skin,
I feel the horror,
Shadowed deep inside,
My soul is darkened,
From Jekyll to Hyde.
Categories:
binned, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
dawn a flash of light
summer sun escaped the clouds
a blink in time
sparrows twittering
fledgelings begging to be fed
a watchful cat
warm westerly breeze
consolation for no sun
the warmth factor
summertime blinked
one-day last year a Monday
July the tenth
suntanned my body
fake news in a bottle
binned sunglasses
its summer time
no nature is lying
hush pretty baby
my apple tree
has yet to bloom and produce
summertime blues
Categories:
binned, nature, summer, sun, sunshine,
Form:
Haiku
Journey's end evades, ever evading
Pleasures trampled upon, beached, down wind
Though hopeful, lone strangers keep rescinding
Flights of wanton fancy bedazzle me
Hard facts in consequences I have binned
Though in searching no-one seems to agree
Overland territories in spatial climes
Amalgamate in their entirety
Fingers filter currency, cents and dimes
Cast off to foreign shores, I would be bound
Oh to be wealthy wise, accrue plenty
Feted, lauded, plaudits crowned
Journey's end evades, ever evading
Overland territories in spatial climes
Categories:
binned, angst, how i feel,
Form:
Sonnet
Do not flatter yourself...
The noose, the tight, the knot,
Your face has changed...
Your mask on tilt...
The worse the situation becomes...
...with preconceived emotion...
Dangerous illusion aware...
...You celebrate deception...
...Seed with thought conception...
...Your face shows ass crack...
...the more you talk...
sidelined...and sin binned...
...new recruit sent in...
...Tidy up the mess...
you left behind...
...The lesson you should learn...
...before you crash and burn...
...try to keep your mask on stabilise...
Categories:
binned, art, work,
Form:
Concrete
Statute, code, regulation, also the ordinance. Four instruments with meanings, in
governments pretense. Study you'll find the difference, from the law and these four
tools. The law it comes from nature, these four are man made rules. They define the
laws upon bookshelves, their not the rule of law themselves. Rules have supposed
purpose, they shape a laws virtue. Officials write so many rules, a law twist to
their view. Do you see the danger, in how many rules we pass. I'll give you one
example, I hope you see and fast. A man not wearing a seat belt, isn't
constitutional law. By code this man be binned, by code this man be fined. I'll
give another example, to make this very clear, a man breaks in your home, to harm
your family peers. You wrestle a gun away from him and shoot him in defense. He's
tried and convicted, they throw him in the pen, while in jail he studies,
and finds one of these rules. He claims you did not have to shoot, your deemed
unusually cruel. You find your self in court again, your head begins to spin, say
to yourself, I did nothing wrong, there's no way he can win. In trial you say, he
broke in, he brought the gun in too. The convicted man, wins the case, a million
you've been sued. Say to the judge, where is the law, where is our common sense?
Gone with statutes, codes, regulations, also the ordinance.
Categories:
binned, education, introspection, social,
Form:
‘One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.’
- Sophocles, Oedipus at Colonus
While we’re in the vertiginous first throws
of being in love, Cupid across bows
fired seemingly randomly, finding rows
of fertile soil for life’s troubles—pain mows.
People eager to throw caution to t’ wind,
immersed in the unknown, they often sinned.
The hasty promises will be rescind;
impossible dreams reluctantly binned.
There’s no more excruciating pain, true,
than unrequited love—it leaves us blue.
Mesmerised by couples seemingly through
mutual understanding: trust accrue.
We’ve been loved; given freely of our love.
We are rich beyond measure and above.
Categories:
binned, love, pain,
Form:
Sonnet
Slow down! by Viv Wigley
The first week of September,
still no sign of Halloween,
a shop window full of Christmas cards
the second I have seen.
By the time my Pumpkin's binned and
fake spider on its last legs,
the shops will all have tinsel and
a stack of Easter eggs.
New year brings Summer holidays,
and brochures through my door,
Burns night there's bonfire toffee,
it's almost ten months before.
I'm getting on in years a tad,
my pace of life will slow,
retailers make the years flash by
as fast as it can go.
I'm hoping I've a few more years
before my life goes down the pan,
Oh,no- I'm only sixty-two,
here's ANOTHER funeral plan!
Categories:
binned, age,
Form:
Rhyme
Depression is not just a sickness of the mind
A reason to go on is hard to find.
Down down into a deep dark obis
The way out is very easy to miss.
It doesn't matter what people do or say
You'll just smile and say "I'm OK".
You don't think they'll understand or even how to explain it
Stuck in your own world you will sit.
There is no magic cure and I don't hold the key
I'll just try telling you what's been working for me.
Drink and drugs have gone with the wind
Some friends and family I have also binned.
Anything that brings negativity has had to go
Only positive energy I'm allowing to flow.
I went back to nature, I went back to our source
Meditation I found to be a powerful force.
I turned off my TV and PC screen
Half of my worries were no where to be seen.
The future is not promised to anyone
So each day I try and smile and have some fun.
The anxieties you feel now, they never last
Not one person can change their past.
Life won't always be smiles and sweetness
Believing it can't change is your only weakness.
Keep a strong heart and don't lose your mind
We all have a purpose waiting for us to find.
It's this broken system that has us depressed
Everything is backward, with our minds they messed.
Categories:
binned, anxiety, cheer up, deep,
Form:
Couplet
celebrity ,headline news ,okay
yesterday's paper binned today
Categories:
binned, life, political, satire, sports
Form:
Crystalline
How remarkably interesting! Two bulls together. One old bearded and one young bullock. Hilly is not the way in a wooden floored shop. But pity those who ingest only the writings,visions,and worlds of the media shrouds. Cloaked clay. Ceasing core. Dare to argue then do not dream? Dare to reduce them and prepare for ridicule. Riotous zombie. Stagnated soul. Empty soul like procession of thought. Wildly has no part in a swamp like ideology. All uniformed and conformed. Constrained with their ingested monotony of their lives. Lacking leaving linking lines. Tradition born. Traditional trade. Time is of no relevance in an ever looping cycle of the same. Drip drip drip. On news feeds. But tuned out. Wake wake wake there is baking to be done. Souls spin suppers. Support sap. Stun sales. Stagnation stopped. Them raising soul atoms in vibrational hue on grasses. Plains. Go burn a custard then. Awake. Awakening. Alignments arriving. Arrogant and ignorance binned. Binary fiscal code in error. Good. Aerodynamics z. Zzzzzzzzz enormous snore. Ha ha ha.
Categories:
binned, baptism,
Form: