Best Decorator Poems
Battle Rap
...poet in da house...
Now have a listen, for I’ll be a kissing…I’m on a mission
And you’ll be a pissing your hemolysin…a smelly emission
My words glisten worth the admission…full of ammunition
You’re under submission a life in prison…meet the mortician
Like a magician I’ll take over your vision…call your optician
You’ll be wishing you had a cosmetician…here’s my aesthetician
~~~
Like Mohamed Ali sting you like a bee…crush you like a flea
You’ll sing like a banshee on a screaming spree…cause I’m beastly
Like Mike Tyson run you like a bison…your blood I’ll syphon
Can’t handle my slicing with every word I ripen…I’m the word titan
Like Frank Sinatra and his mafia from Italia…will give you insomnia
In my euphoria and with your apaxia…you’ll be living with anoxia
~~~
You’re an agitator I’m a decorator…a word builder an innovator
I’m a verse creator a rebuilder renovator…a word generator
I have ambition you need a beautician…an ugly position
In my coalition you need permission…luck with the audition
I’m not a hater just much greater…a smooth operator
Like a Terminator I’ll see you later…your exterminator
~~~
I’LL BE BACH!!!
I'm not really a rapper...just having fun lol
May.16.2018
8 Mile Style Poetry
Sponsored by: Nick Trim
Rainbow
Iridescent
Sweetness in your brown eyes
Interior decorator
Of love.
Help wanted. See the details below.
I’m lookin’ for a part-time assistant, and a life skills mentor,
A Quick Books accountant, and an exercise partner,
And a neat housekeeper that can do windows.
It helps if you’re a sink un-plugger, and a flower arranger,
And a calendar planner, and a good back scratcher,
And an organic gardener that can make things grow.
Later I might need a daycare provider, and a taxi driver,
And a paramedic, and a pre-school teacher.
You’ll be the go-to person that everyone knows.
It helps if you’re a gourmet cook, and a chic hair stylist,
And a party hostess, and a homework tutor.
Your duties will expand as the company grows.
There’s a retirement package no one else can match.
But I gotta warn you that there’s just one catch.
So if you think you could handle all of the above,
This is a twenty-year contract for a full-time love.
So if you want the position, click the link above!
Might be a thirty-year contract for a full-time love.
Maybe a forty-year contract for a full-time love.
I really need a secretary, and a home decorator,
A shiatsu masseuse, and a fashion coordinator.
There are no limits to how much you can grow.
I can offer you some health insurance, maybe college tuition,
Free company housing, and used transportation.
So what do you say, why don't we make a go?
Help wanted. Click the link above. Help wanted. Find somebody to love.
Winter morning light filters through lace curtains,
Reaches down, spills onto the corner kitchen sink,
Through east and south facing windows.
The glass jar, the scrub brush and pad in plastic butter dish,
A down-turned, empty yogurt container,
The pink plastic rinse pan
Keep company around the sink's edges.
The dried-out, yellow dishrag
Straddles the stained white porcelain wall between
Its twin chambers. Home.
The three-track cribbage board,
Deck of blue and white checkered "Boardwalk Casino" cards,
Awaiting friendly competitors,
The gilded "Fiftieth" anniversary photo frame.
Adorned with golden bow, glass-winged butterfly,
Displayed proudly on the fireplace mantel.
The couple with their Papal Blessing,
Sharing in the holding. Home.
Morning light streams through
Aged lace curtains, into the living room,
Over the fireplace, bricks set years ago,
Solid as the blessed couple.
Solid as the Home.
She struggles with the details of conversation,
And asks, as she does each time, "Arrr you mare-eed?"
Trilling the r's, after greeting me
With her Mother's heart, "My Myzeleh Surptizeleh"
In her heavily accented German voice.
"Howv many cheel-drrren you havf?" Home.
The dated, yet functional, lime-colored shag carpet,
Symbolic of their stoic, conservative, old European ways;
The lace doily on the end table, photos of a grandchild,
A son, a daughter; and one of them, too. Home.
The pink plastic Rosary ever present
On the coffee table in front of the well-worn sofa.
Her days spent there,
Sometimes sitting, sometimes lying.
The beads close at hand, atop a book of Prayers.
Crocheted adornments on the walls,
A wooden decorator spoon,
A picture framed pair of swans,
With them all those years. Home.
Next day after the funeral was a celebration of life
at Mom's/Grandma's for a grand supper with memories ripe
afterwards eldest suggested we take some memento's
going through her things I felt like I was pilfering,
To think that 17 years ago when my parents moved in
the interior of the house was going to be quite a challenge
painting the walls and getting rid of the uglies you could say
the house slowly evolving into a cozy country cottage,
Her beautiful taste showed in every room and corner
every detail was just right and in perfect order
always mentioned she should've been an interior decorator
she would smile as she would straighten her armrest cover,
Gazing around I looked in my Mom's bedroom
partial to a little wooden bench seat over in the corner
the bench serving my Mom well during her life and last days
with a picture painted on it reminding me of both Mom and Dad,
Of a beautiful white lighthouse surrounded by clouds and seagulls
my parents both born and raised on Long Island with its ocean swells
both loving the beaches and boats in the New York harbor
but in particular the lighthouses they grew quite fond of,
The lighthouse guiding both boats and people in the dark
my down to earth parents knew this with all their hearts
the lighthouse representing Jesus their leader
on the sea of glass I hope to one day again see them,
But for now I'm blessed bringing this memento home
I will use it and keep it till I die and pass it on then
hopefully to my two sons who will keep it in the family
a wooden bench seat with a lighthouse with many fond memories.
7-22-17
Family love is born in little rooms,
around sofas, settees, dinner plates,
with paternal bond that strengthens and grooms,
unswerving link that lasts till heaven’s gates!
We were such family in a French town,
traditional, true, religious us four,
mother was good at making wedding gowns,
father a decorator ran paint store!
Sister and I watched German troops on streets,
Tuesday August year nineteen forty three,
parents held us close, could hear their heartbeat,
that was the last day we would all be free!
Dragged on to street by the Nazi soldiers,
our father was punched kicked and beaten blue,
we wept helpless, clung to mother’s shoulders,
that was the last of our father we knew!
Pulled away from mother and Sis I cried,
screaming imploring, no mercy, no heart,
that day for me when humanity died,
was day my family was torn apart!
Packed in a train suffocating with stench,
alone defeated waited journey’s end,
with dead and dying that made stomach wrench,
four days of thirst and suffering to spend.
I remember that train to Auschwitz well,
journey that destroyed many lives like mine,
where our love and hope to tyranny fell,
to death we were paraded in a line!
Six months past we heard exchange of fire,
that made evil enemy pack and run,
We were all rescued from behind barbed wire,
was still hope and goodness under the Sun!
When God smiles he smiles generously well,
lifts suffering souls from bottomless pit,
That day he was smiling we could all tell,
his eyes perhaps gleaming and face well lit!
Each life and hope with dignity restored,
we were treated, bathed clothed and given food,
In room of people saw face I adored,
sobbing with outstretched arms my mother stood!
United with mother back to my house,
and years of togetherness we would share,
on the wall hangs our striped prisoner blouse,
to tell trappings of hatred and its snare!
The train to Auschwitz took many to death,
guilt ridden, to and fro ran that train,
but tracks remain, hate may creep back in stealth!
train to Auschwitz should never run again!
Premier contest 6th placement
Written 09/April/2021
10 syllables each line (PS syllable count)
based on a true story as related by a 93 yr old Auschwitz survivor
The last train to Auschwitz poetry competition
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
There’s Just One Catch
Help wanted. See the details below.
Help wanted. See the details below.
I’m lookin’ for a part-time assistant, and a life skills mentor,
A Quick Books accountant, and an exercise partner,
And a neat housekeeper that can do windows.
It helps if you’re a sink un-plugger, and a flower arranger,
And a calendar planner, and a good back scratcher,
And an organic gardener that can make things grow.
Help wanted. See the details below.
Help wanted. See the details below.
Later I might need a daycare provider, and a taxi driver,
And a paramedic, and a pre-school teacher.
You’ll be the go-to person that everyone knows.
It helps if you’re a gourmet cook, and a chic hair stylist,
And a party hostess, and a homework tutor.
Your duties will expand as the company grows.
(Chorus)
There’s a retirement package no one else can match.
But I gotta warn you that there’s just one catch.
So if you think you could handle all of the above,
This is a twenty-year contract for a full-time love.
So if you want the position, click the link above!
Might be a thirty-year contract for a full-time love.
Maybe a forty-year contract for a full-time love.
Help wanted. See the details below.
Help wanted. See the details below.
I really need a secretary, and a home decorator,
A shiatsu masseuse, and a fashion coordinator.
There are no limits to how much you can grow.
I can offer you some health insurance, maybe college tuition,
Free company housing, and used transportation.
So what do you say, why don't we make a go?
(repeat chorus)
Help wanted. Click the link above.
Help wanted. Click the link above.
Help wanted. Find somebody to love.
"Anything i can do, you could do better!"
I'm different. I like my sushi well done.
"Sure you're right!...Who cares?"
I'm as wise as a potato chip.
Is it illegal to leave a night-light on in the day?
"If music be the food of love...I'm tone deaf."
So what? I guess my self-confidence made me inferior.
I hired an interior decorator for my refrigerator.
I spend my time figuring out how to spend my time!!
good day , Carol....
Who feeds birds because birds are hungry?
Don't they have bread to eat because someone is lonely?
Did pupils bring forth apples for teacher because pupils were friendly?
Perhaps...... but didn't they expect something?
"Spread knowledge on me like a cake decorator with buttercream icing!!!"
Why would Mrs. Smith want to keep the doctors away anyhow when the insurance these days is so practical?
Will you trade it for pay? We'll throw in a hand full of sick days
Are kids enjoying soup anymore?
Smacks of unfashionable bribery
You still have a little about the chin Johnny
Did people really gamble their fate for
Mere pantry staples?
There was a lady just the other day
Down on Kenosha complaining how she couldn't
Give it away
I mean..... Who falls for the same joke twice?
Ridding the world of you came at a cost
now I float without color
without virtue
Why can’t I feel my arms?
what were once extensions to hold me up
don’t provide much when walls aren’t a factor
This place has an odd irony
I seem to be the butt of it’s joke
No violence, love, hate or demeanor is needed
I don’t even think the decorator had any idea what to do with the interior
Gave it to the serpent and the man with the hat who sits on the clouds
I should probably move
Saints come here for purification
I’m the elephant in the room that everyone's well aware of
but unsure of
Do-gooders snicker and point
wonder why I’m even here
So much for secrecy, so much for some well earned alone time
I wanted to rest by the white tree
have a drink
wax idiotic with Dante and Virgil
rather that than being cleansed by fire
it was just one and she deserved it
There I go opening my big mouth again
the flames lick my toes as the chubby servants poke with their sticks
God damn it I told you I have a thick coat
this may take a while so I hope you brought something to read
Drink the elixir, pardon the purpose, give me the light and rest
bring on Hades
make a decision cause I’ve always been torn between the two
Not all bad is good and vice versa
Book it for the door as the red guy extends his grip
I should have tried a different route
no turning back now
I will not be reprimanded by the mountain
on this wing I’m carried back where I belong
amongst the hysterical and crying souls of a nameless generation
I’m back.... did you miss me?
invite over your friend with a green thmumb
invite over your friend who writes in their own journal
invite over someone who sews
someone who sings
someone who can act
and another that can tell a joke
one who knows how to decorate
make sure you have active company to entertain all your guests
keep all your gusts in a rolodex and contact them a few years later
on a more business level
invite over the interior decorator
invite over the cake decorator
invite over the novelist and artist
have your pictures done by the photograpgher
talk about awards won by comedic plots
and toats over utopian ideals
and back in the rolodex the new contacts go
the recipe for success of hotels and business
broken down for the chucky cheeses
of those on the outskirts of those who know what is actually going on in the game of life
the faux pas of which faux pas
and the slam glammor of bubble glam and the blitz of the honoured
You should be an interior
decorator in an insane asylum
your colors don't match
your words don't match
I see your mouth move
but it drones vanilla
AFRICAN DAMSEL
The aesthetic work of nature.
As shining as the dark coal of the east.
A figure admired than 8
Hairs like the tail of horse
A skin better than fresh foliage in day
Legs far more straight than ostrich’s
Eyes sharper than eagles and lovelier than cats
The “Uri” her beautifier and decorator
A walking cat in her walk
Gentle and peaceful like dove
As diligent as the diligent ant
Per excellence in all
Thou are beauty
Thou are glorious to behold.
No one has seen you,
Oh! Almighty creator.
Let me be among very few,
In this beautiful nature.
I can feel you,
In each and every corner.
In my point of view,
You are within all creatures.
All want to see you,
From the large to the miniature.
Want to experience all new,
With you as a decorator.
It is universally true,
You are the vigilant supervisor.
Got no chance to review,
Oh! My only path finder.
Save the sinking ship, my captain and crews,
Please do the due,
Save it from all signs of danger.
In pitch black night there is no color,
For light is color's revealer.
In daylight, your eyes see an object as white, when all light is reflected,
White is all the colors from a billion rainbows, melded.
White light, dissected by raindrops, prisms and kaleidoscope
reveals the full spectrum of colors within.
Light is the palette array from which objectors choose what to reflect.
You see black, the absence of color, when no light is reflected,
You see grey, when only a wee little light is reflected.
You see red when all other colors from white light
hitting a surface are absorbed, except red, that is.
The objects and being out there, display the color they choose to portray,
by excluding all other colors, sucking them in.
Color is what distinguishes the objects and shapes
we see with our eyes, including white, black and greys.
The scene we see is an orchestration of color painted upon.
In Nature it's the array colors in the blue sky, white clouds,
green trees, black cat, white dog, and brown dirt outside.
Inside it's the brown door, blue painted walls, green drapes and decorations
In art and paintings it's the colors of pigments in paint
the artist chooses to use and mix together, whatever their source and composition.
In poems and writing it's the words chosen to create images
of the colors of nature, people and objects in the minds of readers.
And moreover, it's the moods, feelings and emotions
portrayed with colors, bold, pastel, stark and soft.
Color creates dilemmas and puzzles for users.
To a scientist its wavelength and spectrum.
To a chemist is clays, rocks, extracts, mineral and vegetable dyes.
To a decorator or house painter its charts, sample pots and mixed tins.
To an artist its what can be squeezed from pots and tubes and dabbed on canvas.
To a poet its words to create fleeting images of color, emotions, feelings and impressions
in the minds of readers.
The kaleidoscope of color is the milieu of everything perceived in the light of day,
through vision, thought, feelings and soulful emotions.