Best Clippings Poems


Premium Member Newspaper clippings

Too little 
too late
God said to me 
in this dream I had about fate

So I asked him 
what did he expect, 
A goody two shoes 
a prophet 
a saint 
to be something I ain’t 

Not at all he said 
I want to be entertained 
Eternity is boring 
mostly people snoring 
especially at night 
and during the day on occasion 

Look god! I walk around an
Amazon warehouse all day 
pigeon-holing tat
picking this and that
How am I supposed to amuse you 

Well I do enjoy you 
breaking stuff on purpose 
sabotaging the line 
Bunking off for a smoke 
going to the toilet 
and drinking erm… doing coke 

Ok hands up!
I admit 
I’m a total chancer
and do stuff I shouldn’t 
But it’s alright isn’t it 
that Amazon place is full of s-hit

Yes it is a terrible kip
but more fun when you entertain
Like in your last job 
listening to you lie
not taking the blame 
asking me to help out 
In your moment of doubt 
All that stuff you stole 
and barely got away with
on the whole 
That was quite funny!

Oh the (paper and plastic) I gathered, 
before selling it to the highest bidder 
Throwing expensive stock out in the trash 
The owner was a bastard 
all things considered 
a miserly swine
But nevermind 
Thanks!
I did need a dig out that time 

Hey! remember when I was aged about 7
and was told my pal went to heaven 
Why did it happen 
A year later walking to school with another kid
he was only 8
And that nut-job attacked us with a hammer 
Put a hole in my friends head 
The blood pumped in fountains of red
I thought he was dead 
All the gore I’ve seen 
witnessed a killing at 18
Trying to hold down an abattoir job in between 

Yes! Life ain’t pretty by design 
sometimes the stars just won’t align 
Others times they go nova 
and leave black holes behind 
still you’ll never really understand 
The powers in command 

So how about this poem
Will it see me home 
Does it amuse you
are we cool?

You’re still alive aren’t you!

By
David Kavanagh

Clippings

I received a gift in the mail today
Twas an old tattered box, mailed from mother

It was my Dad's wallet and pocket knife
The wallet contained clippings and photos

Clippings from local Chicago papers
They reported a man's untimely death

The old rusted knife was from his pocket
Used for cleaning the nails of hard worked hands

I have faded memories of him now
He worked in the stone quarries of Chitown

The photos were of my sister and me
School pictures of us both, when we were young

I have thought of the day my father fell
Over the years, on many sleepless nights

What was he thinking on the long way down
Did he know this was the end of his life

Was he thinking of sis and me just then
Did he wonder what would become of Mom

I remember one of the clippings well
I saw many like it neatly sissored out

They blew around the windy school yard grounds
My schoolmates had clipped them for show and tell

After the funeral, during recess
I found them there, discarded in the dirt.

On that day, returning from school for lunch
We found our Mother crying on the phone

Our world changed forever when that knife fell
I placed the items in my music room

They sit in the corner of my mind's eye
Tokens of what might have been, long ago

Author notes:

"I learned of my Father's death one fine fall day, when I returned home from 
school for lunch. My mother was on the phone crying. Later, after my father's 
funeral, I returned to school to find clippings blowing around on the school 
grounds. They were all about my father. The students had cut them out for show 
and tell, and later discarded them on the school grounds."
© Gary Jones  Create an image from this poem.

Poetry Clippings and Collages

INSTRUMENTAL
       Love is music
      and instrument,
        when we play...

        MOON
       It's an adventure
      suspended in the air
      suspense...
      

        TASTE
       More tasty than wine,
      more than cheese ...
       the taste of your kiss...

        SENSATION
       In lighted bodies,
       we burn love ...
       We share desires...

         PAINTING
       The strongest ink ,
        It's your carmine ...
         When I paint love ...!


Common Or Garden Ninja

Observe the garden ninja
on the attack
a leaf blower
strapped to their back
and a lawn mower
but no sack
to collect the clippings
let alone picking up and putting in
the garden waste wheelie bin
merely making noise
severely reducing weeds
and flowers alike
'til they're nought but seeds
and when they strike
producing fumes
from badly-burned
fossil fuel ill-consumed
on the wind to be returned
from whence they once were
all flora is sadly doomed

Premium Member Tripping Over Their Clippings

    Chicago Cubs stumble their way to another loss tonight

        ~ tripping over their own press clippings

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