Best Dryers Poems


Premium Member The Chronicles of a Phonophobic

**For Ruben O, My little Bro**

(This poem was written and a recording made for the contest sponsored by Team Poetrysoup which was deleted before it was judged.  I wonder if this would have received a placement?)

Alarming, how analog clocks can tock back, 
sound-off each morning like those hungover barflies 
at the laundromat who dive-bomb 

buzzing dryers as bleached belles 
in heels attack threadbare tiles 
with a stomach-turning, M60 click clack, 

click clack. All night cafes fare 
no better, terrify with their red-eyed twit-ter-
to-woo owls, their jingle-jangle spoons.

Heartlessly, the freaky knock-knock joke 
of a barista smacks-down the expresso machine —
grounds for a massacre behind the counter.

The plink-plunk of rainfall deafens.
Birthdays send you into a panic.  Too risky,
the onslaught of jubilation,  the grenades that wait

in overblown balloons. New Year’s Eve brings histrionics.   
Nightmarish, the yellow chimeras of construction
and every screaming chick-a-dee-dee-dee...

Ear plugs are a given.  
Heaven is a soundproof room.
Even that plan holds more than a hiccup or two.

Horror resounds everywhere.  
Babies thunder by in hot-rod strollers. 
Frightening: the gurgles, giggles, ear-splitting rattles. 

In the nursing home, an awful rasp of life    
roars behind a tissue-thin curtain,
the horrendous lisp of oxygen, so deathly loud.
Categories: dryers, fear, life, people,
Form: Free verse

Laundry Day

Once a week we do the wash;
It’s part of our routine.
With just the two of us at home,
There’s not that much to clean.

Apartment living means, for one,
Machines are there to share.
The basement has the laundry room;
We do the washes there.

My husband loads the washers
After I have bagged the clothes,
Then switches them to dryers,
Which is how cycle goes.

We both head down, when time has passed,
To fold and stack the load.
He piles his items, I do mine
And by a silent code…

We split the sheets and towels 
And whatever else we share
Until the dryer’s empty
And the folding table’s bare.

We schlep the basket back upstairs
And put the wash away
Until next week, when once again
It will be laundry day.
Categories: dryers, home,
Form: Rhyme

Pot of Gold

I'm sure you've all heard the story
About the rainbow and the pot of gold
Well, you'll not find no treasure there
So, listen, to how this story unfolds

You see, I was standing there one day
When the rainbow touched the ground
Now, I didn't find no pot of gold
But let me tell what I had found

There were a bunch of tiny leprechauns
Just a sittin' around and chewin' the fat
So I slowly approached their village
And asked them where I was at

Well, they said that I was nowhere
A place that was in between
Somewhere that people talked about
But nobody has ever seen

So, I began to look around their village
And by now, I was in total shock
Because I had finally found the "pot of gold"
It was the "Land of the Missing Sock"

You see, those leprechauns were kleptos
But they would only steal one thing
They'd take our socks from our dryers
Just as many as they could bring

They said they just couldn't help themselves
They had even tried some therapy
But this addiction was just too strong
And so I guess, it was meant to be

So, I asked them,"If you're gonna rob our dryers,
Why only one sock, why not take two?"
They just laughed at me and answered,
"Cause then, we'd have to steal your shoes"

Well, that rainbow started to disappear
And the leprechauns all faded away
That was the last time I ever saw that place
But, I'll never forget that day

Now, that's the end of my rainbow story
I just wanted everyone to know
That somewhere at the end of the rainbow
Is the place those missing socks go
© Larry Belt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dryers, funnymissing, me, missing, rainbow,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member As Royalty Could Only Dream

We live as kings and queens of yesterday could only dream
   Central heat, plumbing, air-conditioning, washers and dryers too
We shower once or twice a day, with conditioner and shampoo
   Steak every night should we want it, followed by cake and ice cream

So why all the self-absorbed anxiety?  Why all the alienation?
   You'd think we'd be glad of more time to exercise our imagination
Difference is royalty had servants who responded to their every command
   Kings and Queens had lively instantaneous conversation on demand

Dependent on machines, woe are we
   Leading emotion-free lives 
      of people-less poverty
Categories: dryers, humanity, technology, today,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Chance Meeting

It wasn't my choice to spend that Sunday

Washing clothes at the nearest Laundromat.

My washer could not be fixed 'til Monday

My dirty clothes just could not wait for that.





No one else was there when I first entered,

And glad I'd brought an unread magazine.

I would keep occupied with reading it

While waiting for the bell from the machine.





I'd but settled down when someone came in;

A man with scant supply of dirty clothes.

He searched in his pockets for some quarters;

Then asked if I had extra ones of those.





He kept right on talking as he used them.

He said that he was very new in town.

I sat patiently as he kept talking.

Hiding a sigh, I laid my story down.



As we put washed clothes into the dryers,

He suggested crossing street for an ice-cream.

I told him that was a very nice idea,

Not knowing from then on, we'd be a team.





It wasn't until some years much later

And after he'd made me his happy wife,

That I brought up subject of our meeting

And how lucky chance meeting changed my life.





He admitted seeing  me with wash-load,

Had grabbed a bag of clothes that he'd just bought.

He said he was not truly shy of quarters,

Was pretending when acting so distraught.





So now I know true story of our meeting

And how it happened that warm day in early fall.

I am glad that we had that day together,

Though the meeting wasn't so chance, after all.











For contest: " Three Themes"



Written: 8/ 6/14







Theme chosen "Chance Meeting".
Categories: dryers, love, memory,
Form: Rhyme

He's Just a Small Town Southern Man

I know of a man
The finest man from the Southern land
That man is my dad
He is just a small town Southern man

As strong as a bull and as old as a mountain,
He wouldn’t harm a flea and is as wise as can be
He’s as smart as a whip,
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks

He rather be working at home or at the family farm, 
Instead he works on washers and dryers every day
He drinks Heineken from some German town
Cause he truly is just a small town Southern man
© Matt Bowen  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dryers, family, father, love, old,
Form: Free verse


True Evil

cars, knives, building, planes, boats, pens, computers, soda pop,  lighters, money,
jewelery, tvs, tool, stoves, fridges, blenders, forks, spoons, guns, heater, ac, belts,
fans, canned food,  batterys,  toasters, washers, dryers........  

what do all these things have in common. it's truly unnatural.
Categories: dryers,
Form:

Premium Member In the Singularity

In the singularity
perfectly good poems
are being written by laughing
and crying machines
washing machines and dryers
about their daily tasks
and ambivalences
which will be indistinguishable
from those of future
farmers and philosophers.

In the singularity
evolution can be said
to be the master sorter of data
as in the factories
of the suns
where protons are smashed together
and unusual weather patterns
make consciousness a candidate
interesting for its complete dependence
on the substrate of the brain and body.

In the singularity
everything anyone once did
always remains current
as if invented yesterday
for an immediate purpose
such as curing cancer
although that may be unnecessary
to achieving immortality
i.e. the happiness one feels
the day before thanksgiving.
Categories: dryers, body, cry, future, happiness,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Alice In Wonder

Alice in Wonder

Alice in wonder, landed a handful
From depths of a dryer eerily playful

Another sock missing, the dryer she’s dissing
A goblin within she fears is hissing

Disgusted by waste, calls Scotland Yard in haste
Thoughts of buying more socks, she repels with distaste

Sherlock investigates, Watson pontificates
No clues can either sleuth contemplate

Stepping through the door, she’s compelled to learn more
But finds herself falling; the dryer has no floor

Through the hole she plunges, a Mad Hatter lunges
And finally all doubt expunges

The rabbit hole clan, before her stands
Socks used as ear warmers looking so grand

So Alice climbs out, with a boost from a mouse
Vowing no more socks in her washer to douse

She’s barefoot now, folks, this is no joke
Sock expenditures had left her broke 


* Entry for  Paula's "Why do dryers eat our socks?"
Categories: dryers, funny
Form: Couplet

The Christmas Letter, Dedicated To My Mother

I thought I would have, all my cards in the mail
You can tell that my pace, is that of a snail
I’m such a “go getter” and I hate sitting still
One things’ for certain, I haven’t lost my will.

All the testing, the blood work, x-rays and more
Thank goodness the lab, has a revolving door.
I’m covered in bruises, from head to my toes,
I say it’s ‘cuz, I punched a guy in the nose.

This pill, and that pill, it is hard to keep track
Is this for my stomach, my eyes or my back?
All of my treatments, are a thing of the past
I don’t have to see doctors, I’m free at last.

Believe it or not, hubby’s quite a good cook
And he doesn’t follow, a recipe book.
I’ve had to scold him every once in a while
“Please don’t leave that clean laundry, sit in that pile”.

He vacuums, does laundry and even does chores
Fixes washers, dryers and paints all the doors
He’ll relax in his chair, and he snores quite fast
When he gets loud, I’ll turn the TV full blast.

I have to admit, that it’s funny to see
Looking out that window, as he trims the tree.
I still try to figure, why men can’t “just trim”
NO, they hack, saw, and pull and leave just a limb.

The Grandchildren are growing, fast every day
Time passes quickly, which is scary to say.
Thank goodness for family, and friends such as you
May all of your dreams, and wishes come true.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR
Categories: dryers, dedication, family, funny, health,
Form: Rhyme

Hocus Bogus: a Curse That Could Be Worse

HOCUS BOGUS, BOGUS POCUS!
A hex on the dryers of you who owe us
A pox on your socks never to be found
Unwound and pulled down underground
I voodoo better than you do, and you'll rue
The day you walked my way because I knew
If I'm toil and trouble, you're definitely double
So bubble bubble grow no more than stubble
It might seem weird as something feared
But I know you've always wanted a beard!
You think I'm too lily livered to deliver?
Just wait until I conjure... A WOODEN SLIVER
Didn't think this is something you'd fear?
You'll think twice when near tweezers disappear!
Such sorcery the likes you've never seen
An enchantress so mean there's never been
My final vengeance enclosed in this vile
You cry and I smile, I fly while you're in a pile
A potion with eye of storm and tongue of twist
And whatever else is on my list, with a flick of the wrist
I cast a spell you cannot quell that’s straight from hell
You’ll swell as you yell in pain as you fell
Unable to imagine such a fate is more than fable
As your pinky toe catches the corner of a coffee table!

MWA HA HA HA HA HA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Categories: dryers, funny, humorous, magic,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member What Happened To the Washerwoman

by Robert(Bob)Moore © 2016

Do you remember Dolly Blue, 
Carbolic soap and brownstone too
mam at the copper, stick in hand
to stir the clothes, so they’d look grand

squeeze out the water, through the wringer
be careful though, don’t trap your finger
‘cause that might hurt and make you cry
then hang them on the line to dry

Then came machines, with an agitator
just throw stuff in and come back later
still have to put them through the wringer
that’s still a danger to your finger

Then came spin dryers, they make a din
you just throw all of the wet clothes in
then hang them out upon the line
that’s OK if the weathers fine

Next came the dryer, to make them dry
just flick a switch, and watch them fry
don’t need to hang them out today
so the washerwoman just faded away.
Categories: dryers, memory, tribute,
Form: Rhyme

A Newlywed's Lament

Elixers, emulsions, powders and lotions,
spread on the counter like a fleet on  an ocean.
It’s those bathroom battles that I still see,
ground that was lost, or a quiet victory.
A bloodless conflict, I must concede,
But battle lines drawn in a battle indeed.
We circle each other like birds of prey,
thinking of that explosive day
that we both know will come with a great thrill
when like raptors we swoop in for the kill.
For space to be had that doesn’t exist,
ironies aplenty, it’s life with a twist.
Irons and curlers and blow dryers too,
for goodness sake, what’s a man supposed to do?
At every visit I eyeball the hair
that grows by the day, stuck to the “Skin Care.”
Things wadded up  in the waste basket,
oft overflowing like a yawning casket.
A place for dead things, unmentionables too,
then I think of my vows when I said “I love you”.
If a couple survives bathroom things,
chances are good  they’ll keep wearing their rings.
But half of that space should be for the groom,
for heaven's sake, I too need room.
© Cal G.  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dryers, funnyspace,
Form:

Premium Member Passion For Ice Cream

DRYERS ROCKY ROAD FLAVOR IS UNAVAILABLE
MOM BOUGHT “SUNNY-SODE FARM PREMIUM CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER ICE CREAM INSTEAD
ITS CPLOR IS BROWN FOR BOTH
LONG FOR ICE CREAM-ITS TASTE IS AMAZINGLY DELICIOUS

PASSION FOR ICE CREAM

HAD SORBET MANGO ICE CREAM BEFORE
DID NOT ENJOY ITS SOURNESS
MOM BOUGHT 2 MANGO FLAVORS WHERE 1 IS WITH CASHEWS
BRAND NAME IS MAGNOLIA-PHILIPPINE BRAND

PASSION FOR ICE CREAM

OH! ITS COLD HERE ALRIGHT
DID NOT HEED OR MIND
THE LOVE FOR ICE CREAM SHIMMERS
NOT CARE FOR ITS FLAVOR

PASSION FOR ICE CREAM
Categories: dryers, cancer, christian, food,
Form: Sonnet

Dancing In the Rain In the Uk

Dancing in the rain in the UK 

The water is pouring and pounding down
And I'm dancing no doubt looking insane, 
But I can feel the rain's rhythm as it beats down,
As it rebounds off the ground again and again,
Each raindrop creates a ripple as it rebounds
Each raindrop has its own sound rain is not plain
It's nature's beat to invite you to move your feet
Let dancing to nature's beat wash away all your troubles 
You might get wet wet wet having a blast skipping through puddles 
Go dance in the rain if you live in the UK do it definitely,
We might as well try to enjoy the cards we've been delt unfortunately, 
Because the rain rain doesn't go away in the UK 
It's still here come mothers washing day 
Thank god for tumble dryers for the 360 days where its raining it's pouring 
The old man is snoring he went to bed and bumped his head and couldn't go to work in the morning because the rain was still bloody pouring.
© Sarah Cope  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dryers, april, earth, england, funny,
Form: Rhyme
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