Best Cellophane Poems
Roadside flowers, defy the rain
handwritten cards, spell out the name
of someone’s son, of someone’s friend
just where the road, begins to bend
at the spot where everything changed
Passers-by said it was a shame
nobody quite sure who to blame
but everyone could comprehend
roadside flowers.
A face looks through the window pane
oblivious to sun or rain
condolences so quick to send
that broken fence so soon to mend
her grief still wrapped in cellophane
roadside flowers.
Categories:
cellophane, 10th grade, bereavement, death,
Form:
Rondeau
She seemed somewhat sad
So she slid
Semi-comatose...
...Cellophane Soul screams
Saran-wrapped
Such subtle sorrow
Semi-transparent
Sweet, still sleep
She succumbs slowly
Sad Cellophane Soul
Silent screams
Suddenly strangled
Suicide succeeds
Suffering
Cellophane Soul soars
© 2011 Kevin Stock
Categories:
cellophane, angst, confusion, life
Form:
Free verse
cellophane world...
procuring accouterment
of this and that from hither and thither
the consumeristic narcotic
rages through our pulsing veins
as we desperately try to pull on the ever-loosening reins
growing up all those years ago was easier, I do confess
with hardly a hint of all this materialistic excess
for money was tight
but the values and principles instilled in us were right
values to cherish the human-ness of all
the simple pleasures of this life
beyond the haute-couture and glittering flim-flam
for what is all this
if not a carefully constructed sham
so as I walk along the aisles today
I cringe at the so much designed for the so few
while the multitudes of the teeming people
stand at the wayside
disconsolately deafened by the tolling bells of the steeple
and yet...
there must be a better, less ostentatious way
to live and love and cherish and embrace
each other, distanced from the plastic fakery that we witness each and every day
for the truth that rages deep within every heart
yearns for a coming together of souls
a bounteous celebration of togetherness, a simple bond
of people sharing those intrinsic values
of
love
compassion
comfort
these are the simple yet ever-so elusive desires buried within each and every heart of ours
while we scurry around like giddy inebriated plunderers
innured to the passing of the moments and months and weeks and hours
so
could it be too much to call for restraint
to merely sit back for some time and quietly reflect
on
what is true
and
on what is the essence of being alive
in this glittering mirage that is the place
this world
this fairground of tricks and of treats and of designer labels and the branded name-tag
that mutilates our spirit while our shopping bags sag
maybe
we will then see that the truth is so much simpler
to love and be loved for who one truly is
for to be simply human
is what we desperately miss...
Categories:
cellophane, life, love, truth,
Form:
Submit my amateur thirst
For urban slaves
With nothing else on my mind
But food for the plague.
It's not the armed that harm the harmless
But this honeyed tongued prince
With his hands on his head.
Damn those blaspheming template lovers
Wrought of inbreed prostitution and
Finger licking good tax rendition.
Divorce Lawyers.
Death penalties.
Lovers triangle.
Break it off and the bad luck is done.
After all,
I assume it was my mother who used to say,
Filthy luck spawns from a filthy conscience.
Filthy she'd say.
As if filthy were just the word for it.
As if it justified a thought or place.
But I don't need justification.
I just need these two diverged in one.
Urban sex crossed lovers,
Plague eating rotten toothed librarians
Hungry from another long day at work.
Categories:
cellophane, adventure, allegory, angst,
Form:
Free verse
As Jack Frost feathers the outside windowpane,
my silly kitty tries to scratch through the ice.
Although the glass looks like crinkled cellophane,
stop wasting your time silly kitty; be nice.
Let's snuggle together and watch the frost form
my bed under a blanket that's soft and warm.
Mom said it is okay if you sleep with me,
but make sure you use your litter box to pee.
Categories:
cellophane, 10th grade, animal, beautiful,
Form:
Rispetto
I hear the world buzzing by,
In silence I rely,
Yet I cry,
For I see with my hearts eyes,
Cellophane should be my name,
Invisible I remain,
Screaming out in vain,
Even invisible he use to see,
Now he is blind to all thats me,
My curse is feeling,
Caring,
Yet I'm all alone,
With cellophane I am home,
We are sharing,
Bearing the pain of loneliness,
Sharing the shame of knowing it,
We're invisible and incompetent,
And so he's blind you see,
But yet he supposedly loves me.
Categories:
cellophane, life, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
When I
Think about
Loving you
I think
About reaching
For my
Bible and
Shaking it
My hand hurts
From writing
My love
In the
Bindings of
Bibles
And Moleskins
I am transparent.
As transparent
As the
Warmth love
Brings, as
Transparent as
A newborn
Thrown through
Cellophane
Our world
Is transparent,
A transparent
Rattle, a
Rattle that
I reach
For and
Shake.
Categories:
cellophane, adventure, childhood, faith,
Form:
Free verse
A heart as a lark,
That has woken it’s neighbours
Come out in conjecture
With fierce loaded chambers
A wing to be taken away
To locks without window or doors
Where the pulse may condense__
__ A sanguine taste upon the floor
And a fog on the window panes
As lungs carry scars
From obsessions of breathing
It’s truth through a filter__
__The breeze of a world that
Has fallen from kilter
And wheel with a feather upon
Grounded it sees
Not city, colour, love and stars
But the Ground
Where its supposed to be__
__A content breath believed.
Categories:
cellophane, identity, introspection,
Form:
Narrative
LEAVING ME HERE
I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT ALL OF THIS WASN'T MY FAULT
MEMORIES BRINGING ME BACK TO THE PLACES THAT I DON'T KNOW AT ALL
BUT I WANTED YOU HERE TO SEE IF YOU'RE STILL ALIVE
LIFE IS GONNA BE BETTER ON THE OTHERSIDE
CELLOPHANE GIRL
LIVING IN THE PART OF A CELLOPHANE WORLD
COME BACK TO ME
YOU WAS THE BEST THING IN MY LIFE
LITTLE CELLOPHANE GIRL
SEE THROUGH ME
ALL THE DREAMS I WAS CHASING
YOU LEFT A BITTER TASTE IN MY MOUTH
YOU'RE TURNING ME OVER
THERE'S NOTHING LEFT TO FEEL
THIS WORLD IS SO COLD NOW
MAYBE WE CAN FIGURE THIS OUT OR WE JUST FALL IN THE CROWD
CELLOPHANE GIRL
LIVING IN THE PART OF A CELLOPHANE WORLD
COME BACK TO ME
YOU WAS THE BEST THING IN MY LIFE
LITTLE CELLOPHANE GIRL
SEE THROUGH ME
TAKE ME UNDER FROM THE CRUELTY OF OTHERS
I THINK ABOUT IT DESPERATELY UNTIL THAT DAY
I WILL BE SITTING HERE UNDER THE TREE
DROWING MY MEMORIES DOWN HERE
I MISS YOU
CELLOPHANE GIRL
LIVING IN THE PART OF A CELLOPHANE WORLD
COME BACK TO ME
YOU WAS THE BEST THING IN MY LIFE
LITTLE CELLOPHANE GIRL
SEE THROUGH ME
Categories:
cellophane, angst, death, girlfriend-boyfriend, lost
Form:
Lyric
(This is a fictional poem)
When I was a child, I ordered action figures through the mail.
They sent them in cellophane bags and I always caught hell.
I removed the action figures and threw away the bags.
Instead of being trusted, I was constantly nagged.
Mom found some of the cellophane bags when she looked in the trash.
Dad went through my things because he thought I had drugs stashed.
They checked my body for needle marks, they even looked between my toes.
I told them that I didn't take drugs but they wouldn't let it go.
Dad said that I had to be spanked.
He said it would hurt now but one day he'd be thanked.
He put me over his knee and slapped my rear.
I had a porcupine in my pants and it drove Dad to tears.
My parents constantly hounded me during my youth.
They never believed me even though I was telling the truth.
During my prom, I was grounded instead of spanked.
Dad couldn't go to work for days because of the sugar I poured in his gas tank.
When my parents found my flea powder, they thought it was cocaine.
They handcuffed me to the bed and poured it down the drain.
They still think I'm a drug user even though I work for the DEA.
They won't believe me no matter what I say.
Categories:
cellophane, father, funny, mother, me,
Form:
Wound in Cellophane
The older women come to coffee
with cookies wound in cellophane.
They talk of children
or their children’s children
or their garden.
Or they simply sew
and watch the young girls trickle in,
buy berry rolls and coffee,
nibble, sip, lick fingers, blow
small parachutes of smoke,
and laugh a young girl’s
world of willy-nilly.
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
cellophane, on work and working
Form:
Free verse
Cellophane
I'm here in the flesh,
Can't I be seen? Or
Am I invisible?
Transparent like a sheet of cellophane
When I speak I'm not heard.
Yelling and waving my arms,
but you don't see.
Maybe my voice is unheard,
I'm here in the flesh!
I feel Pep-pi la pew
Trying to peel that damn sheet of cellophane off.
Its making me weak,I'm here in the flesh!
Categories:
cellophane, cry, depression, feelings,
Form:
A baby of tiniest of teeniest winds floated into the breakroom today.
She picked up three itsy bitsy cellophane pieces I had not even noticed,
And she lifted them up ever so slightly,
I watched these transparent pieces cavort in a mini-wind-circle,
It reminded me of three puppies, frolicking.
This lasted not even the teeniest bit of a second.
But this barely-even-a-breeze mama had made the lunchroom seem happier.
She gave me hope.
New energy had entered, and a sense of fun, a glad feeling.
Incessant talking was happening,
But I was no longer here, in the capacity
Of a non-listening human,
I was now a tiny bit of transparent cellophane,
Waiting for my wind-mama
To gently pick me up, and
Whirl me around.
I have never
Felt so puppy-like
As I waited.
Categories:
cellophane, life,
Form:
Free verse
she wakes as a cello
in the morning not
high strung but
mellowly tuned
i run one of
my fingers
feeling her
f hole as
the air makes
her shapely
boxed body
quiver in
sound and
breath as
she breathes
vibrating strings
just plucked
slightly an open
g seizes the beat
of my heart as
it ceases to be
modulating to c
as i tightly wrap
her for a trip
Categories:
cellophane, muse,
Form:
My wife of seven years has not noticed I exist
I give her whatever I can but it is never enough
She is looking for something better
Someone else
Someone more
I am invisible
Inconsequential
Unlovable, unappreciated
Replaceable, obliterated,
Interchangeable, not even derange-able
Mr. Cellophane should be my name
People do not see me
I am not felt
or respected
or acknowledged
I am not even an I am
or an I am
or even an I
Others get smiles, waves and hugs
Strangers exchange appreciative glances
I get nothing
No one meets my eye today
No one smiles
No one has seen me at all
I am Mr. Cellophane
Invisible and expendable
If I disappeared no one would
notice or care
Mr. Cellophane
Mr. Cellophane
If I was good enough to have a name
This would be too good for me
So maybe I will just refer myself to
Mr. but the Mr. is too pretentious
for a nothing like me.
I will call myself C
Categories:
cellophane, sad love,
Form:
Free verse