Best Call Off Poems


The Devil Is Using My Neighbor

This neighbor I begged to be family
Is back on crack
He is having fits
I had to call off my new job
He doesn't get it.
He just said I can leave in a fit.
I knew this day would come
I pray for a housing miracle this Christmas season. 

I am tired of being around fake poor spirits.
God give me a reason

I threw up today at work and got right back to work
God has to help this situation it truly hurts

Black peoples pain may come from history 
But black women's pain comes from our men
who refuse to look within 
and live a life of sin
I pray. I know God got it. I grin.
© Gu Jendayi  Create an image from this poem.

Collaboration Contest

I am addicted to you

Every time I see you 
My heart skips a beat in excitement 
A sweet sensation of joy spread thru me
I just can't stop my heart from singing 
beautiful and joyful you are 
You're like a ray of sunshine spilling joy into my life 
I am ever so happy

Every time I look into your dazzling eyes
I am lost and don't wanna be found 
They capture my breath 
Holding my heart a prisoner 
And undresses me to the naked eye of nature
You're like a prescription of joy I am addicted to you
I am high on happiness 

Every time I hear your voice
I get so hypnotized that I only see your fine lips
Moving, as you talk to me
Often I tire you telling you to repeat what you’ve said 
because your voice plays like symphony
into the deepest core of my soul
Please, never stop talking to me as you do

Every time I touch your skin,
Adrenaline shoots into my system like a myriad
Doses of bliss fused with cosmic allure
Sometimes I’m tempted to call off meetings
And visits, only to find my arms
Wrapped around your waist for an entire day
Being close to you is all the heaven I know

You're my addiction of joy
I crave you

The Winter Blues

Inside it is nice and warm,
cuddled up alone in my warm bed,
sheets and covers smother me,
as soft pillows rest my heavy head.

Outside the white, soft snow comes falling down hard,
blowing in from the north, south, east and west
and the wind picks up, as it makes a high pitch howl,
as a ghost would do when trying to strike fear into someone.

Inside so warm,
outside it is so cold,
Inside filled with sweet dreams,
and outside filled with cold, soft, white nightmares.

Soon, the alarm goes off and wakes me from a cozy slumber,
as I hit the "SNOOZE" button and straighten myself from bed;
I walk over to my window and rub my eyes and can't believe my eyes.
Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow- and more snow!
White pillows of snow everywhere,
on the leafless trees, the branches covered with snow and ice.
I open my window for some fresh air,
and the air is too thin to breath, and the wind hits me in the face
and cold burns my face with a chilling sting!

I shut my window- as I look at my bed,
temptations of jumping back in and warming back up
all cross my mind,
but sadly it was only Wednesday and no call-off for school,
so I guess I'll go shovel the snow out of the driveway,
warm the car up and get ready to go learn.

.2.5.2014.


Dude, Where's My Automobile

Not advertising that flippant flick. I just want to know
where my blooming flivver is. It ruffles my feathers no
end to find out, when exiting the embassy,
that my buggy's whereabouts are a mystery.

I must meet Sherry 'cause her right toe
wants a sweet kiss. Did the camel tow
my car? That blasted mammal! Sherry's dear
foot can't wait! Please do not tell me the deer

took my buggy! That son of a Witch
would fine
me with a very pricey mulct which
isn't fine!

Not another loathsome tax
to put up with! Oh no, Lord, please!
I beg thou hearken to my pleas!
Now, let's come down to tin tacks.

I need my bloody car! A choice bass
cooked by Sherry awaits me. The crass
specimen who's got my car is so base,
and I'm so cross! The camel has a bass

voice that creeps me out! I do not want to
deal with him. I cannot even stomach two 
secs the sight of the deer. He's ugly too.

II.

On returning to his flat, mad as a goat,
Ivo found on the door, the following note:

Dear Ivo,

I hereby inform you that your awfully and
illegally parked streetcar has been impounded.
Come pick it up at the City Hall and 
bring cash with you for there's a fine. 8 hundred
clams.

	Much love,
	The Crane from Ukraine.

Blimey! That heartless crane! I won't give her a buck!
Now I know the ruffians weren't the camel and the buck.
Well, let's be fair, it wouldn't be cricket to pass the buck.
I didn't park properly. It's my fault. That's it. I will not buck
at the fine.
III.
                  I got my car back for free. How? l told the crane;
"I'm in a hurry to meet Sherry who needs me to canoodle
her feet. I'll have tonight for dinner a bass fish with noodles."
"If a foot massage like the ones I used to get in Ukraine.
you give me, I will be happy to call off the mulct." said she.
I pleased her feet very much. She loved it. Then we got some tea.


IV.

I'm on my way home to eat some bass,
with my beloved and awesome lass.
It's so nice to be able to dine
without having paid that gruesome fine.
© Ivor Kos  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Cats

Creeping through the backyard,
chasing birds and squirrels,
causing a commotion,
crazy cat decides to
call off the hunt for now.
Coming inside he finds
contentment in a lap.

8/16/15
I found this form on Shadow Poetry site. It's called a Pleiades.
Only one word is allowed for a title and is followed by a single
7 line stanza, each line having 6 syllables. The first word in each
line begins with the same letter as title.

Premium Member The Event

For six months straight 
The Art Committee met; 
Sixteen bright and eager minds 
Had planned the great event.

For six months straight 
The artists looked ahead, 
Refining, polishing their jewels 
To shine at the event.

The day arrived.
Dark moisture-laden clouds
Let loose their dreaded tears.
Result of six months straight:
The Art Committee's final words
Announced with sick and heavy heart—
"Call off the great event."

The snow fence, isolated, wet, 
Stood naked in the fog;
The artists packed their gems away— 
There was no great event.

The plans of men, committee groups—
Even with the strength 
Of sixteen bright and eager minds 
Who'd worked for six months straight—
Dissolved in minutes' time 
By nature's fickle, idle whim 
To rain on the event.


September 10, 2014

Contest: Up To You Again
Sponsor: Brian Strand


Premium Member Life With T-Rump Xxxvii

T-rump’s a hustler on a stage
A pied piper who taps people’s rage
So who will rebuff
This great con artist’s fluff
And call off this ugly dark age?

Premium Member The Lady In High Heels and the Banty Rooster

A lady was screaming and running
			in circles, and she wasn’t funning.
			A critter was chasing
			her. Man! They were racing.
			That rooster was swift and so cunning.

			Her four-inch high heels made her stumble.
			While kicking them off, she did grumble.
			The banty was pecking
			her ankles and wrecking
			her panty hose. “S_ _ _!” She did mumble.

			The farmers were calmly observing
			this scene, their attention unswerving.
			“Please help!” Her imploring,
			they kept on ignoring,
			not caring her plight was unnerving.

		       “Doggone bill collector!” one uttered.
		     	“You IRS agent,” one muttered.
			“I sell Avon!” she yelled
			as tears welled and wounds swelled.
			“C-call off this creature!” she stuttered.

			“Don’t need none today,” they all told ‘er.
			Her temper continued to smolder.	 
			Pa said, “Leave ‘er alone.”
			That fowl’s bad to the bone.
			No rooster could ever be bolder!

 Placed 1st in Charles Messina's Limerick Contest, September 2018

entered in Andrea Dietrich's limerick contest on  8-11-19

I Don'T Think I Can Do This

Cruising home from the driving range.  
My collared shirt free of cigarette burns…  
58  in November,  hit’em pure
Pushed back against the wind flirted with woods
Everything should be  peace  Turners on; and I’m contemplating hard

A trip back to dodge way ,  
bury me  in project bricks
Surrounded by fresh needles and chunky cocaine.
Skoal Mint  sinking me to the chair again, 
Dotted pupils linoleum on my knees…  

I”m pushing it all the way cause 

I want me the ****ing  ringing chased by black melting weightlessness..

Ohh where did I lose soul..   between rattling box car trains at the back porch in point breeze,
 or the cramped back seat of my ford escort home…  I  still feel the abrasive fabric on my cheek…  

Don’t think Ill find it in a 401k  or wooden pin..
salivating at double seals again
I don’t think I can do this,  
don’t think I can  be high enough sober
,I ain’t never gonna recover.  
  
A vibration sucks my lip dry,  damn phone dashing  fantasy.  
It’s not locked, Alone, but a few voices behind me.
humming I can’t handle another  decade of subs junk and booze..

I feel too much. sober


Drops of sweat on my back from heated seats flash call off leg cramps
Black trucks remind of exit door deliveries at Giant Eagle..   
Uneasiness haunts back the anticipation of copping
Am I supposed to eat honey nut cheerios with a damn fork…     

How am I gonna recover?????

Artificial warmth always distracts swollen veins and cherished loneliness 

How am I gonna recover? 

The drugs don’t know  
    this time 
I’m fighting with  sessions, a pen and  ****ing numbers…
 I can mask  rage as calm conversation 
Throw out chunks  of  feelings in self deprecation
And turn away from  nodding strangers  

I’m  calling  out to all  my   desire to die…….
.   
Cause today I’m feeling high enough

Dave streett

A Single Teardrop

A Single Teardrop

I remember that it was a sunny day
I didn’t expect things to turn out that way.
From nowhere, completely from out of the blue
You said it’s over and that we’re through

I thought that we were of a mind:
Meant to be; two of a kind.
Happy together, forever and always:
A united team ‘til the end of our days.

Where did it change, start to go wrong:
Have you been feeling this way for long?
What stopped you speaking-up before?
Do you really not love me anymore?

I cannot believe this is really happening:
You want to return your engagement ring?
Call off the wedding and the honeymoon?
It feels like you can’t get away too soon.

Dear God, how can you be so cruel and mean?
This is a side of you I’ve never previously seen!
Whatever did I do to you to earn this nastiness?
It’s a complete mystery to me, I must confess.

I watch as you turn to say your last goodbye
A solitary teardrop slips from your right eye.
As you wipe it away I realise something new:
A single teardrop is all I ever meant to you.

Outside the Damascus Gate

Sunset in Jerusalem...
The vendors scramble to rid themselves of fruits, vegetables, and cute souvenirs.

A young boy bellows at the top of his lungs,
"Hurry up! Going fast!"

A man carries a newborn and a diaper bag over his shoulders.

A mass exodus of shoppe keepers leaving the gate weary at the end of the day.
"It's quitting time!" I can just hear them saying.

Gnats swarming. 
Trash scattered from a long day of peddling.
Pigeons and sparrows nibbling on table scraps while crows call off in the distance.

Sunset in Jerusalem.


Written outside of the Damascus Gate, Old Jerusalem
4-28-15
Gwendolen Rix

Collaboration Contest

I AM ADDICTED TO YOU



Every time I see you 
My heart skips a beat in excitement 
A sweet sensation of joy spread thru me
I just can't stop my heart from singing 
beautiful and joyful you are 
You're like a ray of sunshine spilling joy into my life 
I am ever so happy

Every time I look into your dazzling eyes
I am lost and don't wanna be found 
They capture my breath 
Holding my heart a prisoner 
And undresses me to the naked eye of nature
You're like a prescription of joy I am addicted to you
I am high on happiness 

Every time I hear your voice
I get so hypnotized that I only see your fine lips
Moving, as you talk to me
Often I tire you telling you to repeat what you’ve said 
because your voice plays like symphony
into the deepest core of my soul
Please, never stop talking to me as you do

Every time I touch your skin,
Adrenaline shoots into my system like a myriad
Doses of bliss fused with cosmic allure
Sometimes I’m tempted to call off meetings
And visits, only to find my arms
Wrapped around your waist for an entire day
Being close to you is all the heaven I know

You're my addiction of joy
I crave you

The Doggone Dog Contest

Doggone it!  Can't you believe it, it's happening again!
Somone call off them dogs, because it's about to be a murderous sin!

My fellow poets, Andrea Dietrich is a poet I admire.
But in case you didn't know it, P.D. is a dog-face liar!

A few poets soup mailed me and said, "Let sleeping dog's lie."
But I just wanted to "Collabo" on a "dark fantasy" and be a poetic samurai!

You lie down with dogs P. D., and you'll wake up with fleas.
She laughed at my poetry then got strung by my poetic bees!

I just wanted to end P.D.'s poetic career, not her death!
But something is seriously wrong I fear and I think it's her dog breath!

So Nathan Dilts steps in the mix, but his bark is worse than his bite.
You can't teach an old dog new tricks, you poetic parasite!

I told P.D. , "girl you like my doggy-style."
But then again, it would be a sin to sleep with a reptile!

Let me seal this with a kiss, so P. D. raise the write flag.
I'm throwing Sidney in the abyss and sealing up my doggy-bag!

*Wrote for the lovely Andrea Dietrich and her contest...The title will remain the same;)

Call Off

Call off our Troops,
    they don't have a
    clue on the real
    scoop; because
    the President has
    them jumping thru
    invisible loops.

    Call off our men in
    green, death is the
    only thing they've
    seen; and only to be
    used as the President's
    personal killing Machine.

    Call off this W.A.R, we've
    been misled and we're
    not sure what it's for any
    more; but from the way 
    things are looking I would
    say," That President Bush
    Just Wanted To Settle A
    Personal Score."

Seclusion

Seclusion

As in twilight sun rays call off
Enabling darkness to budge step by step,
My shadowed seclusion followed
Your slithering reflections little by little;

Beyond the fetters of time
On mirage of dreams
An alleyway opened wide its arms
And I moved a little
Veil of sobbing breathe,
Taking ocean on shoulders
The whirl-wind blew rebuff
And I receded a little
As in drying leaves 
Does green give way
For yellow pigments to foster

On the rumbling sky of desire
Did we draw
Aura of feats so many!
On the anxious branches of curiosity
Did we spring
Flowers of passion so many!
Remaining marks of longings
And terror of void
Still go arm in arm
In my journey
As in confluence of horizon
A little of earth and little sky do

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