Best Climbing The Walls Poems
'Twas the night before Christmas, I’d forgotten the sprouts
So I sent out a plea to the local boy scouts
I’d remembered the crackers, the turkey and ham
but my guests would expect sprouts, so I was in a jam
The scout leader admitted that I was in a pickle
and he said my family were all somewhat fickle
I said Uncle Bert just adored eating brussels
then he’d fart for days with his lax sphincter muscles
The scout leader had a plan, it is so well thought out
He'd call each scout’s mother to donate just one sprout
Every scout hurries round with one sprout in their hands
soon I have plenty of veg to sate my guest’s demands
On Christmas Day the relations ring my door bell
Pat barges into my kitchen; she makes my life hell
At one time she cooked meals for guys in the Navy
So she has to check if there are lumps in MY gravy
On the stroke of one o’clock I dish up the food
Uncle Bert belches loudly, that man is so rude
They devour all the turkey and round stuffing balls
By the end of the main course I’m climbing the walls!
They don’t offer to help, so I fetch the dessert
Uncle Bert drips brandy butter all over his shirt
Then they guzzle the cheese and finish the wine
Bert then farts profusely, he’s a disgusting swine
Then we sit round the TV to listen to the Queen
Bert’s eaten too much, his face has turned green
Pat gives me a present, of a hand knitted jumper
It’s three sizes too big, I just want to thump her
They’ve descended on me these last fifteen years
I ask if they’ll reciprocate, my words fall on deaf ears
They never say thank you, they drink all my booze
Next year they can whistle, I’m booking a cruise!
I saw a light shining down on me
Thought it was the end of time.
And I just couldn’t let it
I turned to face the bringer
But he just walked away
Maybe now I can live to fight another day.
Wax and feathers won’t stand the test of time
Falling like a stone only to be shot out again
If you can’t stand your captors, then don’t do the crime
I can’t walk away this time
In silence here I stand alone
Climbing the walls is the only thing we can do.
Then darkness fell all around the town
I heard the sound of heartbeats all at once
Screams rang out long into the night
Voices rising and falling
Now after all, it could all end here
Then I heard nothing but the sound of silence.
All of a sudden a light began to appear
A million eyes all opening at once
It was nothing like anything I had seen before
But there was hesitation and apprehension
It all seemed to land on one man’s decision
I want to believe, I want to smile
And then the doors open and I see a new Eden.
“Cream Pie”.
We never took a chance,
We wouldn’t make the time.
And I just didn’t care if you were mine?
No now you’re here,
and now I'm there.
You took his love, and his name,
then you married him, to get out of the rain.
And I just don’t care, is there something wrong?
With me?
You’re with him now,
but you can’t say, why?
and he dirties up, the floor,
smearing greasy fingers on decaffeinated walls
and down the hall, the road is overgrown,
all your butterflies have died.
Your river of love, has run dry,
I never said hello,
You never said… goodbye.
And we danced through the
And we danced through a dream.
I've lost all your letters.
I'm staring at the calendar on the door?
Cheap wine burns holes in my memories.
Climbing the walls with my fingernails.
But I just keep falling down,
again, and again, blood smears,
no tears on the ceiling…
I feel your burning embers,
A storm in the distance.
I don’t know what to say as, I walk through the sunset,
the darkness into the rain, again.
When the raging river, runs free,
and the wildfires have died,
you'll have no love,
and you'll have no pride,
Wake me up from this dream,
Only then will I eat… your cream pie….
in the rain.
I wanna eat your cream pie,
in the rain.
Written for Diane S Tar??.
Its also written about you..
(c) London F. Buss
It was just after I posted
My last two poems
Our precious poetrysoup
Went Ka Boom
With hope I pray I wasn't the cause
Of the dreadful fall
But I must get something off my chest
My son-in-law is climbing the walls
You see he read his poem
And called me a liar
He said he may let me keep my cane
But the coke will have to go
Unless it is a real small cup
With lots of ice or snow
So with head hung low
I must make a correction to my verse
He only cut the bottom off one bottle
Not two like I was assumed
And then he reminded me
He had to drop to the floor on one more chore
He had to retrieve my cane for me
Once more
I guess he really had been abused
But there is one thing he doesn't know
His daughters friend has made for him
His very own pair of BEER GOGGLES
And then I AM GOING TO ROAR
As light plays upon the dark, that moon through stained glass windows
cutting a swarth across cobbled floors.
It seeps into the cracks like it's found home at last
How a distant piano to a curious ear attracts
a de'javu moment and yet it is unwritten.
You follow the fleeting seeking some origin
reaching out for inspiration as if it were original sin
All recitations from what remains unwritten
Those words hidden under the tongue just below the surface of a heart.
Contour of an image meant to be lived, yet remains unchanged, namelessly forgotten.
Its a melancholy of indecision climbing the walls of narrow passages like wisteria
you adhere to the impulse to cover all that once lay bare.
I drag tired fingers around the next bend, the next barrier
is more impressive than the last.
There’s an attempt to grasp something in the lapse between thoughts
to trade abstract beliefs for the tangible, it is enough to inspire devotion.
a shadow climbs the wall only to stall in its climax
abiding but a remnant of the unwritten.
Something is always left in these corners where candles aid their illumination
and thoughts drift elsewhere in the dancing theatre of undefined movements.
The unknowing becomes vagabond to the warmest of comforts.
You find yourself in these blankets of cloud cover observing holes in the disguise.
The veil suddenly lifted, experience immediate, no longer a stranger
so you can gaze upon these mirrors and hasten that journey toward home
Home, your feeling is kept fleeting, A temporal haven so you can continue repeating
these steps that lead you towards the perfect escape.
Always almost there... In this world of smoke and mirrors
Trapped in illusion that holds time obscurely
"The Unwritten"
So we bend beneath the wing of watching eyes.
Trenched in the words of silver tongues, frozen by the voice of awkward edges
For if the unwritten were to be before its time, If it were to flee,
to break free and roam; Become the breeze through these hallowed halls
of desperate belief.
To write the unwritten...
Then though they'd cry and shout and leap, No wall could stretch from sea to sky
Nor any kingdom stop it.
It is etched on the soul more deeply than stone
And we have given it a name...
Our Destiny
We should only eat six sprouts at Christmas
Deem the council who are in Leicestershire
Its no joke, it’s a serious message at Xmas
To reduce waste and not make it higher
We must cut back on crisp pigs in blankets
And should only have three stuffing balls
Also cut back on spuds and fluffy Yorkshire puds
Gee I’m going to be climbing the walls!
I love to eat sprouts at my Christmas dinner
There will be NO sprout restriction for me
I’m rebelling; you may call me a sinner
There'll be piles of sprouts when I eat tea
Yes I’m going to load up my plate
Those officials can just go to hell
I’ll eat sprout after sprout after spout
And then let out a disgusting smell
The council’s intentions are honourable
Of that there are no doubts
But Leicester County Council
Keep your mitts off my Brussel sprouts!
12/21/17
So much going through my mind these days
Trying to be patient and wait for it all to fade
I want someone to love me by whats in my heart
But most guys don't know how to be that smart
Their all looking for me to be perfect with no flaws
Yet even I sometimes feel like climbing the walls
I just want to be loved like everybody else does
Many times I have wished that I was
Some of you men just need to wake up
And quit being scared to get a dose of love in your cup
Because I got plenty to give you see
But so many of you want accept me
I'm just me what you see is what you get
If you would just get to know me you want regret
But for now guess I will go back to dealing with life
Even though at times it brings heartache and strife
Collision…
I am already working hard to make it through today
No desire, I am uninspired
And I just can’t find a way
I am bogged down in a physical prison
Under a darker cloud that obscures my vision
My head and heart collide
And I am not sure which side I am on…
There is good and bad
What I have or used to have does not matter anymore
There is happy and sad
But I am out in the hall between two locked doors
I am climbing the walls
Stretching beyond my imagination
But my fascination with the game has waned a great deal
My heart and head collide
And I am still not sure which side I am on…
Oversight,
Final romantic aviation aspiration destiny.
Only for impossibility to cruelly belly ache against man,
Because encompassing the heart seem mystifying lost.
Myself,
Prayers come with moments of emotional bondage,
Caught in a web of entanglement me.
Never getting into the simple Heaven,
So it seems event every.
Mute communion this morning,
Climbing the walls of the horizon coloring of one,
Birds of darken prey,
Trying to shake me,
Nevertheless this has to be,
Journeying beyond me & everything under the sun.
Hanging for dear life of soul bound,
Spirit determine to carry on,
Stakes are high,
So is Your reach,
Praying I know is enough,
Sometimes one most enter the insane of the matter.
Caressing the otherside floor with my lips,
The place You tread,
Simply "Thanking You" with kisses.
Time You only know what I have done with,
No hiding the facts under the earthly rug,
Here I am,
Honored for life I have on Earth-
Christmas gift to the Lord-
Clinging
climbing the walls
cracks and burrows
dodging mangles and tangles
dead ends
no bends
fire and ice
and ice hurts more
once twice thrice
but hey!
dismount
assess
access
I'm a mess
creak crack
(yes my crack hurts too)
broken back
arms dragging sagging and blue
but hell I'm here!
and hail that too!
I love you my child
You were born to be wild
You popped your balloon
Then quickly smiled.
Your very first word was ball
You pointed to every circle you saw
Ball, ball, ball, ball
on the wall, down the hall
The only thing you said at all
Then it was tractor trailers and trucks
Bullets, guns and four point bucks
You were climbing the walls as I went nuts
A quick little kid, leaving trails of dust
You were quick to walk and quick to talk
You quickly mastered what was taught
You were quick to do things on your own
It should be no surprise, how quick you've grown
But I miss the days when you were small
Saying uh oh when you would fall
Tripping on my heels, down the hall
Every moment shared, I miss it all
Ilene will go the extra mile
And do it with a charming smile
Climbing the walls
Can lead to falls
But bouncing back is Ilene's style!
Is it over, is it really now over,
Are we just dreaming or simply misled,
Can we resume the rest of our lives
Outside these four walls and the shade of our bed.
Can we now fill our lungs with fresh air
Breathing no longer through layers of cloth,
Or must we endure that little while longer
Protected indoors, cocooned like a moth.
Exhausted from watching show after show,
Tidying closets, climbing the walls,
Snacking in boredom, growing in girth,
Constantly texting, washing our smalls.
Hair growing longer, nails more like claws,
Roots ever greyer, solutions too few,
Pampered and spoiled, lost in a haze
Reliant on others, but whoever knew.
So tell us it's over, we pray and beseech,
Bring back the life we knew and adore,
Life's little pleasures all gone in a flash,
Staying cooped up is now such a chore.
Climbing the walls
or are they holding me?
Really anxiety is a slow moving plague;
Over the lingering fear;
Not a question, not an answer
always excusing irrational behavior;
Viral spread of ‘You better listen’
ignoring the slow decline of freedom;
Radical screams pepper no substance;
Under the mask is the real virus
slowly smothering independence.
#MeToo staff are climbing the walls
Their switchboard is flooded with calls
'Tis a stalwart crew
But what can they do
When sporting equipment has balls?