Best Cans Poems
driving away slow
enchanted by metaphors…
rice pelting our car
white picket fences ahead
dented cans streaming behind
05 Jan 2018
syllable count 5-7-5-7-7
Lifelong series, proliferation of dreams
Procrastination pushes cans to rear shelf
Crushed pineapple replaces peaches and creams
Depleted pantry unenvisioned of self
Back burners overwrought iron pans of sin
Awaiting an opener, woman of tin
Lifelong series, ambitions, intended plans
Plentiful in could haves, instead, dented cans
Written: 1/1/2018
Contest: Dented Cans
Hosted by: John lawless
They catch our eye, those dented cans
that stand out clearly from the rest.
Yet something says to stay away...
they may not pass the 'okay' test.
Though, most the time, the food inside
should surely be okay to eat,
our senses choose a perfect shape;
reject when standards do not meet.
Just like those cans can shut our mind
to flawless nutrients inside,
we cringe when we see 'dented' shells...
assume, from them, we need to hide.
The outer part of anything...
a can, a book, a house...a heart,
does not disclose the joy within...
is just the wrap 'round the best part.
Sandra M. Haight
~5th Place~
Contest: Dented Cans
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 01/15/2018
To many, a child in the nineteen fifties
dented cans were important
we used them in various ways
they became our childish telephone
stretched across a room
connected by a long piece of string
we had rubbed with candle wax
it never really worked... but
we never cared
we would stand empty dented cans around the house
and place them strategically... our own little army
then scurry from room to room
carrying a board with two nails buried halfway
a rubber band between them used as a trigger
where clothes pins were launched
trying to defeat this army of cans
but, our most important love for dented cans...was
our mom knew they were cheaper to buy
from the neighborhood market
and we were able to eat that day
1/5/18 contest Dented Cans
Shark art, the romance of nothingness Homeless vagabond’s discuss the emptiness of soup cans A frenzied race of little Benny hills playing, king of the mole hill Three bums decide, to see who is the most eloquent, at saying nothing at all. Like, what would Andy Warhol and Woody Allen’s children look like. That’s not funny at all but Tom waits his turn, peeping over the wall like Kilroy, if he existed. Laying on his side looking, at the mole hill Yep, little ants are trying to climb a mountain, as a passerby steps on it and the candy mountain police officer, wipes the stuff of His nightstick, saying all the world is a stage. A little boy would rather eat shoe leather, than turn that page. Laughter erupts from the soup can, when raising the leg is abrupt Echoes of humor, as the puppy kicks the can, placing cheese, on an already disturbing content. Chum, the can was indeed empty. We got are fill. The Lord knows you are homeless, wait for Him.
Now here's something I've never thought of before
How'd they get the air in those aerosol cans I implore
A major phenomenon
Need help from dear mom
Mom knows everything, she's smart to the core
The human body was built with a stretching ability. Skin and muscles are very elastic and prepared for adversities. Bones can be fractured and broken, but mends back in time. Ache me; bend me; mend me; brake me; mane me; pain me; I bounce back. Everything within me connects, communicates, and confers with each other. But I am wondering about 'the goings on' of a can of corn, if dented. If a dent is made in a can of corn, does it force the kernels to draw closer together? It's like this. While cleaning our food closet one day, I overheard a most interesting dialogue between designated speakers for the corn and the water.
"What just happened here?" said the whole kernel can of corn to the water in the can. "I felt a deep stump that shook us as you moved like a high tidal wave." "I know! said the water, it was as if someone just threw us into a large tote of other cans". "I don't know what's going on here, but I sure wish it would stop. We have feelings too?" They seem to care more about a dent in their cars than one in a can containing their food supply. Go figure".
After a pause, the corn kernel said, "Anyway, the dent they caused just took away some of our already crowded space. Moreover, I suspect before long someone will come looking to eat us, notwithstanding the dent in the can. Until then we'll just have to deal with the way things are. "On the other hand, said the water, they might decide to eat us as a last resort, like when things are bad and money is tight. In that way we'll last longer. I must say that as a result of our can being dent, not only have we both been stirred, but we have been forced to communicate like humans do. Maybe we'll also learn to bounce back like humans". And the corn kernel said, "Perhaps so, and I guess if you are going to get eaten, later is better for us."
12242017 PS Contest, Dented Cans, John Lawless (Personification)
The discontent that dying brings should not be vilified
It is not a bad thing to be aware
the act of finality is also a part of life.
We live in big tin cans, others live in small cans,
but we all need one.
We enter our tin cans through a tunnel
then emerge and learn to live,
but really only exist in confusion
manipulated by intellectually inferior one-track minds
bent on ruling every aspect of our lives,
engulfing us in messy, mind mystifying, spirit debilitating stuff that
gives vent to feelings of impotence, often enough to complain, but
ignorance, callousness, arrogance and alternative facts rule the day
True finality must have its joy-filled release
at such times.
My advice to the complainers in their tin cans,
Take your damn life and live it!
Make passionate love and get stupid drunk!
And every now and then write
A caring, benevolent poem with conviction
then go out and help change the world!
dry cans in cellars full of sweet fruit
covered in dust are beatiful in a way.
all with labels peeling.
the iconic cambells soup cans in tarnished
red and white
set on the shelf like rusty bells on
a church steeple.
not like the empty mason jars on
the front porch half filled with rain.
half with childhood memories of
grasshopper guest and fire fly delights.
beer cans empty
clattering drunkenly
down somber, sober alley
Walking, walking, walking, walking,
Slower and slower and slower,
And s-l-o-w-e-r,
And s-s-l-l-o-o-w-e-r still.
Barely moving...
Eyes shut tight...
Footsteps weaving...
Intestines heaving...
Racked by Hunger and Thirst,
Thirst and Hunger, Hunger and Thirst:
Woe is He and He is Woe;
He'll die of Starvation,
Unless his throat cracks first...
...Lost in a desert of endless sand,
So many poets choose to end
Such a tale without taking a stand,
By terminating the protagonist's digestive gland.
Perhaps they're not clever,
Perhaps they're 'old school;'
Ho, ho! Not me. I don't follow the rules...
Now back to our poem, of which you're in the midst,
Lost in that desert,
When a snake hissed,
And looking down on the ground,
Our protagonist found,
Two dented cans staring up at him
Of Albacore Tuna, 'Starkist' no less,
With a pop-top opener---unexpected largesse.
O, ecstasy and agony rolled into one:
There lay salvation, right on the ground,
But for the USDA warning that made his head pound.
You must never a dented can automatically trust,
Check instead for bulging or bloating, for spraying or rust;
A sign of bacteria---which into your system may bust.
O, exquisite torture! What to do now?
Examine those two dented cans?
Or down the contents, warning be damned!
The body says one thing; the soul another
...So, decide for yourself, dear reader,
What he would do, if he were you.
Benican said he could,
Jerrican was quite full,
Pellican catch a fish,
Jellican wobble in a dish,
Daisican grow a flower,
Wellican provide a shower,
Barbican cut your hair,
Terrican eat a pear,
Jonican throw a lance,
Cancan is an exciting dance,
Billican boil some tea,
Would you sit and have some with me,
..............can you?................
Senior year, student government
I couldn’t do anything right
When told to paint the trash cans
Our class colors, blue and white
I added my own touch to the job
Always doing too much
Scrawled my name on all the bins
Hoping to gain more fame
Some thought I was uncool, to
Expose myself to the whole school
All I was supposed to do
Was to paint the trash cans blue
The next year they were painted red
I was forgotten like I were dead
DENTED CANS
Took a bag of trash
To the curb inside the bag
Garbage, dented cans
1/11/18
Original contest Dented Cans
For Contest: 'A STUNNER JANUARY 2018' Contest Info
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
Even
though I’m
a Nigerian
From a
land
troubled
by various
vices
I’m proud
of our
seeds--
Nigerians
who have
got vision,
virtues
and voices
Even
though I’m
an African
From a
land
where
many
dreams die
I’m proud
of those
who are
Afri-
cans
Who’s
ideas and
ideals can
make
a fish fly
Even
though I’m
a *****
Born and
bred
amidst
dust and
dross
I’m proud
of one
man, a
*****-
hero
Barrack
Obama, a
black
American-
boss
Even
though I’m
Nigerian
From a
land
where
many
suffer
and smile
I’m proud
of those
who are
noble
Nigerians
Who keep
their
dignity…
going
the extra
mile