Best Clipboards Poems
She sits by herself in the dayroom
absent-mindedly taking her med,
her head is a blank, she knows nothing,
braceleted, brought to her bed.
Sedation has settled her nightmares
and delivered her safe from her fears,
but who are these strangers with clipboards,
where'd she come from, and why is she here?
She's showing no signs of aggression,
as a matter of fact she's serene,
no tantrums, no throwing or spitting,
picture-perfect, a story-book queen.
By day she's the doctors' conundrum,
every measure is tried for a clue,
but the secret is buried inside her,
closed for business, not out for review.
As night falls she's back in her bedroom,
left alone in confusion and tears,
frightened, with nothing to contemplate
but the blood, and the screams in her ears.
Categories:
clipboards, confusion,
Form:
Verse
You didn't shake
as much in
the psych ward,
possibly because
of the medication.
A cocktail of
paxil, seroquel,
lithium and sedatives.
The white walls
dimmed your
pale complexion.
The pink rosed
paintings on the
wall reflected
the first bit
of color returning
to your peaked
gaunt cheeks, and
big sad eyes.
You'd get so angry,
trying to hold back
cries...stressed
from all the secrets
of your condition that
the uniforms and
clipboards kept
from you.
We'd walk the
circular hallway.
My black work loafers
and your socks
circumfrencing the
middle ground of
sanity.
We'd hold eachother
in the corner, under
the light wood
safety rail.
You, propped up
against the wall.
Me..pressed againt
your chest.
You'd envelope
me with your
long arms and
whisper in my ear
between your tears
that this...
couldn't last forever.
Categories:
clipboards, life, loss, lost love,
Form:
Narrative
Ten monitors
Nine hours
Eight safety messages
Seven binders
Six coffees
Five computers
Four clipboards
Three maps
Two microphones
One stubby pencil
Categories:
clipboards, work,
Form:
List
She sits by herself in the dayroom
absent-mindedly taking her meds,
her head is a blank, she knows nothing,
as she's braceleted, brought to her bed.
Sedation has settled her nightmares
and delivered her safe from her fears,
but who are these strangers with clipboards,
where'd she come from, and why is she here?
She's showing no signs of aggression,
as a matter of fact she's serene,
no tantrums, no throwing or spitting,
picture-perfect, a story-book queen.
By day she's the doctors' conundrum,
every measure is tried for a clue,
but the secret is buried inside her,
closed for business, not out for review.
As night falls she's back in her bedroom,
left alone in confusion and tears,
frightened, with nothing to contemplate
but the screaming that no one else hears.
Categories:
clipboards, depression, sad, stress,
Form:
Quatrain
She sits by herself in the day room
absent-mindedly taking her med,
her head is a blank, she knows nothing,
as she's braceleted, brought to her bed.
Sedation has settled her nightmares
and delivered her safe from her fears,
but who are these strangers with clipboards,
where'd she come from, and why is she here?
She's showing no signs of aggression,
as a matter of fact she's serene,
no tantrums, no throwing or spitting,
picture-perfect, a story-book queen.
By day she's the doctors' conundrum,
every measure is tried for a clue,
but the secret is buried inside her,
closed for business, not out for review.
As night falls she's back in her bedroom,
left alone in confusion and tears,
frightened, with nothing to contemplate
but the screaming that no one else hears.
Categories:
clipboards, addiction,
Form:
Quatrain
They locked me in a glass cage
Stare at me with their clipboards
Look at me like I am a freak show
Observe me like an animal
Treat me like a time bomb
And cower away as if I am a monster
I want this fate no longer
They look at the blood stains on my hands rather than the tear stains on my face
Look at the bruises on my arms
Rather than the lacerations someone else inflicted on my heart
Shake your heads as if I am crazy
Instead of stopping to consider what I believe
The things they cant see because they don't want to see
Read about me wishing for death
And skip over the passages that speak of the sickness and the constant drilling in my head
I am bleeding from the inside out
Being cut down by the things I am forced to live without
And the fact that no one cares what I am screaming about
All of these people have buried me alive
I am choking...no suffocating on their lies
All I do is try
I am the only one who bothers to provide
They refuse to listen to my cries
Now I am finally dying on the outside
Categories:
clipboards, absence, anger, anxiety, pain,
Form:
Free verse
20FabelSEVEN
Charlexes Fabels
Gardenor
A Mexican sweat is just a teepee with a fire made hotter and a rock placed where
you can pour the water on the hot rock to make some steam come up and they
add some pine to make a smell so sweet to tired alcoholic lidded eye eye did my
time cold TURKEY and never needed one. One man who works in landscaping
as the gardenor becomes too busy to notice the other man escaping on the
sidewalk it is the thief the gardenor is using both his hands in his effort for
release the other man in shadow land appearance coinciding with the worker
there just thinking while he is walking hands in pocket just holding on to nothing
as he sort of Saunders bye? Saunders
For over 60 years Saunders Manufacturing in Readfield, Maine has made top
quality Form Holders and Clipboards for millions of customers worldwide. Now
our new Portable Desktop line continues the tradition. Just a coincidence please
Gentile reader ewe must understand the non commercial usage of this poem
business. A Random act of kindness to your senses.
Charles (surname)
Charles is a given name for males, and has its origins in Common Germanic
where it originally was used to indicate a free man, but not one belonging to the
nobility.
While eye was typing this the contact email on the link opened up into a brand
new page and never made connected to the name? please people if you put the
actual name of your email address then we the customers can copy and then
past the thing and then you could have read my fable and had a much better day
oh Mr. and the Mrs. Saunders. The Gardenor may read this missive iff eye bother
to make the translation into Spanish for the bulk males of the working force is
Mexicans.
GARDINER: From the Danish for "garden keeper." A noble profession and a vivid
name. Relatives: Gardener, Gardenor, Gardner, Gardnard, Garden, Gar.
Namesakes: Erle Stanley Gardner, John Gardner. Eye am just a Charles
derivative a CHARLAX iff ewe will of some great import a relic not a derelict of
duty a lover never a fighter a want to be husband to the ewe oh ewe please smile
as ewe aer reading this one and be sure.
Jealousy is never meant to make us harm but only to make love come back so
strong to make the other one in love return a little stronger than she was before
the Jealousy.
Categories:
clipboards, on work and working,
Form:
Prose Poetry
She sits by herself in the dayroom
absent-mindedly taking her med,
her head is a blank, she knows nothing,
braceleted, brought to her bed.
Sedation has settled her nightmares
and delivered her safe from her fears,
but who are these strangers with clipboards,
where'd she come from, and why is she here?
She's showing no signs of aggression,
as a matter of fact she's serene,
no tantrums, no throwing or spitting,
picture-perfect, a story-book queen.
By day she's the doctors' conundrum,
every measure is tried for a clue,
but the secret is buried inside her,
closed for business, not open for view.
As night falls she's back in her bedroom,
left alone in confusion and tears,
frightened, with nothing to contemplate
but the blood, and the screams in her ears.
Categories:
clipboards, depression,
Form:
Quatrain
it finally was acknowledged as a problem. something has gone wrong
we must LOOK BACK retrace our steps and explain why exactly
this corpse is still moving. hold the clipboards tightly- what should
have been told to us before is now SCREAMING IN OUR FACES
stand aside!! this is meant for the hands and the minds of professionals
so with a turned lever the motion falls and becomes still-------- transfixed
beyond knowledge at the awakening of a realm not seen not felt not
believed at all.
WE ALL JUST CROUCHED DOWN AND LOOKED UPWARD! OUR
EYES FALLING FROM THEIR SOCKETS! TIME STOPPED &YET
SIGHTLESSLY FLEW FAR FROM US! I WOULDN'T HAVE BELIEVED
IT_______ BUT I WAS THERE.
scripture printed out before everyone else it was shoved from the tables and
laughed away, the children reassured EVERYTHING IS FINE! if we stay
as we want to (dumbstupidignorantblind) would everything come as a
sweet surprise? though defined i saw it, kindly concurred, the block still
remained just as strong.
it was our hands that held up this belief of stability, this lie of gravity and
clarity. to tell the truth (which i hesitate to do) fear has no opposite for
it is ALL. though things can be bravely (&falsely) conquered our bodies
still tremble to blurs at the very mention of What Could Have Been.
murder is widely accepted as goodness when committed in the likes of
battle in the idea of safety- self defence. the enemy, we saw, fell
and mutated from life to death, and curled into a premature sham.
the rulers, with minds preoccupied with triumph over (backwards) terror,
smiled in relief and nodded their heads for us all to come out of cover.
THE EARTH IS FREE AND BEAUTIFUL ONCE MORE
THANKS TO THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE INTELLIGENT!! INNOCENCE
CAN NOW BE FEIGNED AGAIN!
but who was to expect that once the babies and the purities were
unveiled, that the phantom of man's technological defeat would rise
and again come forth in newly discovered ferocity? we were easy to overcome
------such souls we denied, living behind our very eyes, were tricked and
caught in the tremulous hands of revolting lust. and with our growing voices we
found ourselves declaring to the populations our declining state of
perspicuity.
Categories:
clipboards, allegory, angst, life, people,
Form:
Free verse
She sits by herself in the dayroom
absent-mindedly taking her med,
her head is a blank, she knows nothing,
braceleted, brought to her bed.
Sedation has settled her nightmares
and delivered her safe from her fears,
but who are these strangers with clipboards,
where'd she come from, and why is she here?
She's showing no signs of aggression,
as a matter of fact she's serene,
no tantrums, no throwing or spitting,
picture-perfect, a story-book queen.
By day she's the doctors' conundrum,
every measure is tried for a clue,
but the secret is buried inside her,
closed for business, not out for review.
As night falls she's back in her bedroom,
left alone in confusion and tears,
frightened, with nothing to contemplate
but the blood, and the screams in her ears.
Categories:
clipboards, sad
Form:
Quatrain
After she left the house for realities unknown,
the abandoned rooms hollowed out
small discrete spaces for her to rest within
should she ever return.
Buses still stopped next door,
sparrows hopped over the stalks of phantom roses,
Eventually, Girl Guides selling cookies nixed
her address off their clipboards.
The mail began to forward itself to nowhere.
The house tidied up the way den denizens do.
sifting through mites and squamous dust
for signs of her in-dwelling mind.
It found non-intrinsic parts of her
which it glued to the stale air as her likeness,
yet this remembered facsimile
kept dissolving in puddles of moonlight.
The house began to whisper to passersby’s.
It called to migrant cats, homeless mice,
indigenous tribes of Carpenter bees.
A face on a board was planted in the yard,
prospective buyers entered and left,
none moved in.
The previous owner came back for a while,
She occupied the new spaces
pleased with the improvements.
Then she left the house
riding upon a starlit stairlift,
her ghost moving upwards to a safer premise
where grab bars and access ramps
were reimagined
in a newly renovated sky.
Categories:
clipboards, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Not do bright after all
Glowing like a bulb
Covered way down deep in manure
Misrepresented and posing
as fertile soil
Backed up by so called expert
quasi intellectual bright sparks
types armed with clipboards
pie charts and endless statistics
To keep us all firmly in the dark
Using flattery as a conniving
erstwhile tool to make us all feel
Ipso - facto
De- facto
Tik - Tok - Toe
Aren't we therefore
Er- Go
Also so very , very smart as well
Categories:
clipboards, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Poor or too rich,
different in form or race?
Remain slave to no opinion,
identity is a label for a can of beans.
Nothing living and upright
need bow
to a tribal or common hitch or halter.
When they call you this and that,
every badge they pin on you
is a disguised condescension.
To them you will always be
a victim of low expectations.
Man is your name and woman your truth.
When they come to you
with their polls, clipboards,
their pandering unctuousness,
look them in the eye,
say: ‘I am one of a kind,
a race of becoming giants,
a living spirit of God,
imperfect - yes
but I can be seen clearly,
while you
live in the shadow of a lie.’
Categories:
clipboards, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
they called it mercy,
the white coats and clipboards,
a room with thick walls, sterile,
and him sitting there—
eyes like rain-soaked concrete.
Florida sun spilling in
too bright, too harsh,
as if to spotlight the damage,
to make sense of the silence,
the soft snip of scissors
cutting away at whatever was left.
he used to play cards, talk shop,
had a sharp way of cussing,
could laugh till his belly shook—
but now, he was hollowed out,
stitched up like an old doll
left to the attic dust.
in the end, they called it 'care, '
as he sat there, vacant,
a chair in a room with no light.
his name was two steps,
it took him
half an hour to walk one hundred feet
to the chow hall,
I was a child, twenty years old
and it shook me to my very core.
Categories:
clipboards, 12th grade, character,
Form:
Free verse
After she left the house for realities unknown,
abandoned rooms became discrete spaces
fully occupied by her thoughts.
Buses still stop two doors down,
sparrows hop over the stalks of dead roses.
Road dust carpets, then is windswept away.
Eventually, Girl Guides selling cookies
scrub her address off clipboards.
The mail has begun to forward itself
to nowhere.
The house whispers to passing pedestrians,
It calls to migrant cats, homeless mice,
indigenous tribes of Carpenter Bees.
A face on a billboard is planted in the yard,
prospective buyers enter and leave,
none move in.
Her spirit returns for a while
to inhabit the once lived in.
half-heartedly she wanders
over her own footsteps,
does not stay long.
Her arthritic presence has moved on
to a place, a safehouse for the forgotten,
where grab bars and access ramps
are reimagined and improved.
Categories:
clipboards, poetry,
Form:
Free verse