Best Filing Poems
April first drives up in a new Lamborghini,
Everyone knows it is one of her foolish tricks
She will be driving a beat-up pickup farm truck
In thirty days, when time comes to start the planting.
April, she flounces between winter and summer,
Calling herself spring but she is, frankly, confused.
By the tenth, she is tossing around snow flurries
She grins crazily; our warm coats are put away.
Next day or so her temperatures are soaring,
The snow has melted, and we are donning our shorts.
What the old folks always call "Blackberry Winter"
Strikes with vengeance, temperatures in the thirties,
April says maybe that heavy sweater will do.
She laughs by tax-filing day with strong gusty wind
Though ornamental trees are beginning to bud,
There's talk of late frost, April does not seem to care.
Another few days, and she lets the top down so
Warm breezes are embracing the faint scent of lime.
When April suggests a warm spring is here to stay
A blast of Arctic air nips buds with frosty dew
In a warm day or two, sure enough, April comes
Driving her pickup truck full of mulch and manure,
April plants the sturdy vegetables like kale.
Despite late frost, the tulips will soon burst open
Gentler rains, and April may settle down for good.
SIXTH PLACE WINNER
Written April 11, 2021
for "April Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Why wouldn’t you cut me loose from the strings that bind us
You had left me dangling from a marriage that once united us together
The bonds were broken - you had forsaken our love, not once but so many many times
For over a year now you have been seeing her
I could never understand why you wouldn’t set me free and let me spread my wings and fly
I‘d have the chance to find someone who would be faithful and love me – ONLY me
Yet you still chose to wear my ring upon your finger
You wanted to have your cake and to eat it too
Whilst I was suspended like a puppet floundering in mid air
At first I thought it was all about saving face - playing happy families
You didn’t want your parents to see YOU as a failure
It was always me who visited them every week
Running errands and taking them on days out with the grandchildren
You simply paid your parents lip service and rang them saying you are working away, when in reality was you really were with her
But now I have discovered the truth why you won’t let me go - your father let it slip one day when I saw him.
It was his birthday and you’d asked me to take him a bottle of his favourite whiskey - this was your downfall - you know how he likes to talk when he’s had a drop
For now I have discovered the truth the REAL reason why you wouldn’t set me free.
It’s all to do with money – the clause from your uncle’s will. You were his favourite nephew and I could never understand why you didn’t inherit when he died
Now I know the answer - we needed to remain married for fifteen years then and only then would you receive your million-dollar legacy
Ever since your father revealed the truth about the inheritance I have had a private detective trail the two of you – dates, times, photographs I have all the evidence I needed.
The private detective I hired – oh he was delighted to take on the case - you see SHE is his soon to be ex-wife
Well sugar I’m filing for divorce. Don’t bother contesting it. It will be finalised on our 14th Wedding Anniversary.
I’m no longer your puppet, the strings that tied us are finally going to be cut.
Contest:Puppets Sponsor John Lawless
12~25~14
As I see it there is no cure
Meds can help that's for sure
But meds can make things alot worse
Mental health is a real bad curse
The meds will help you sleep at night
Or even help you fight or flight
The effects may damage your internal store
Kidneys livers even more
I know this at first hand
So join me on this awareness stand
I stand here totally med free
Trying to think rationally
Its about trapped memories
We must search for the keys
The only way to rid this fear
Process the memory shed a tear
To process the memory we must go back
Get the processor back on track
Its a complex piece of machinery
It's called the brain can't you see
They talk of trauma and incidents
Put it in the box sounds magnificent
The filing cabinet is over flowing
PTSD just keeps on growing
So relax and ground yourself
Another winner in mental health
Do this and return from hell
Use sight,touch, sound and even smell
Bring yourself out of the dark place
Look around for the friendly face
Open up and talk it through
This victory does belong to you
Many types of help out there
A lot of family and friends do care
Don't try to fight it on your own
The black dog has just grown
Try the doctors or self refer
You need help that's for sure
Once in the system your tool box is bigger
Hit the black dog with the big yellow digger
He will never totally disappear
You will be stronger have no fear
When he raises his ugly head
Your strength will put him back to bed
I am referring to therapy
Non intrusive just you see
It's not for everyone I do know
But surely it is worth a go
Finally I will just say
Take every day
DAY BY DAY
Stay strong and remain positive
You've deserved the right to live
Now that I'm dead I can finally relax,
worry free of April 15th and filing my income tax.
3-22-17
~ In the back of my mind, in a filing cabinet, I hold my dreams...
sealed until my death ~ quote by poet
Dreams are as golden seeds
a source of reflection
It is incredibly
liberating to escape
from the reality
Fly with your imagination
stimulate human growth
in a safe atmosphere
A fragrance of a dream
even in a waking state
I plant dream seeds for joy
as far as possible
The ability to daydream
My previous life story
with different approaches
deep or superficial
with roots in life situation
The future of the past
with airy butterfly wings
I'm protecting my dreams
they can disappear in a flash
My dream is still alive
deeply rooted in the heart
Locked in my diary
you will never find the key
Everyone in the soup chant my name, because I'm bringing another poetic attack.
Ryan, you've had your 5 minutes of fame, now I'm breaking your poetic back!
So you need to be realistic, read your slam, then read mine.
I'm what people call "futuristic," because I'm a poetic Einstein!
I told you in a soup mail, when it comes to slamming, there's no competition!
P.D. has you under her spell, like she's programming an air=condition!
See I know why you stepped to the plate, you were looking for some recognition.
So your poetry I'll gladly annihilate, with your mother P.D.'s permission.
Why bother to even retaliate after my slam's left you in such a condition?
With your poetry you can't intimidate, because you haven't enough ammunition!
I hate a poet who thinks they're good when they really could use some practice.
If I could, I would beat you silly with a Texas cactus!
This isn't right of me, but Ryan you must not have had a clue,
That my slam poetry will utterally consume you....
Engulf you in a poetic inferno, and leave you a smoldering heap!
What-do-you-know!? It's a T.K.O.! And I've put Ryan to sleep!!!!
Note: This is why I don't want to slam with you, No offense, but I have to focus on your idol
P.D. So run back to her with your tail between your legs and tell her my filing cabinet is full
and ready;)
Over and over
Again and again
Echo, echo
Reiteration
Throwing a ball
To and fro
Taking a walk
Away we go
Busy work
Filing files
Nighttime clerk
Stocking isles
Same ole same
Everything
No change
To cause pain
Day three untouched,
Tuna sandwich plastered to the plate beside the laptop.
Bathing,
Four nights visitation rights forfeited.
Change of clothing in between?
"I do declare, Stinketh indeed?"
Blaming the fish out of sea.
Thinking to oneself;
Two twilights old coffee in a cup,
Lukewarm,
"Know that realm all too well as of now!"
Hands into grabbing hair,
Keeping from breaking one's first love,
The pen.
Let the games begin!
Staring contest with the paper,
Who will blink first?
"Now the letters of non-words fly about over me!"
Vision of butterflies,
Not.
Voices of laughter vain flowing above,
"No! We do not want to come out & play!"
Alphabets hiding behind unwritten books.
Head encounters collision with pain,
Leaving weight of heaviness,
Bringing it crashing down onto the table place.
Tears invade the sheet of ink nonsense.
"Time to end it all!"
In hasty rage,
Secret thoughts of filing for divorce.
Throwing chair,
Pushing afar anything in the pathway,
Out the front door with no delays.
After the while,
A view to the living.
Observing life around about.
Than,
Heart revives back to existance.
CPR given to the soul,
And foolishness revealed.
Returning back to the scene of the crime.
"Forgive me. Faithful you were. Never fail, & never will."
Sitting down to reconcile the marriage vows.
Souls filing down Heaven’s hall;
People walk among us all.
One or two in a crowd can, see them;
Others are blind, to their own fellow men
Keep your mortal
Eyes closed at night, in bed;
Dark rooms may reveal the non-dead.
The Animal In The Cage
Locked in a cage
Steel bars of my own making
The floor lined with the bodies of those who came before
Alongside the bones of those who conspired to harm me
My fingers claw in desperation
Ripping the flesh from the ends
Exposing claws lost eons ago through evolution
My teeth tear into the metal filing my mouth with orange powder
Powder that corrodes my throat making it impossible to talk
Impossible to scream or plead for my life
Alas, the more I try to escape the smaller the cage becomes
Compressing my hopes and dreams
Shrinking any spirit or soul I may have left.
Why would be owner of the cage treat me so?
Men, women and children walk by my cage
Pointing and laughing at the animal trying to escape
They must know the pain I am in
Maybe they can see past the hatred I feel
Maybe they can see the torture it in my eyes
All they have to do is look
Maybe if just one person looked and saw the real me
One bar would fade and I would be released
Maybe I could be human again
If only just one person took the time
The time to see that the animal before them was a man
If just…
Donald Trump can't see debt as a threat
Its immigrants that make him upset
So we must build a wall
That won't stop them at all
And to Hell with the National Debt!
Economics Trump just doesn't get
For Trump, filing bankruptcy's, "No sweat"
Donald's morals are lax
So he'll never pay tax
Chalk it up to the National Debt!*
*Our National Debt was $19.95-trillion when
Trump took office, but now stands at $22-trillion
due to Trump and cronies extravagant spending,
with no thought at all of continuing costs to maintain
nor repair a monumental Vanity Wall!
Feeling alone like I’m by myself on an Island,
Spending time within my mind and forever rhyming,
Remembering everything comes together slowly when ya smiling,
Like a raw gem that transforms into a well-crafted diamond,
While aware of the memories in the shadows that keep crying,
Tomorrows a better day when we can see over the horizon,
Compiling and filing my thoughts with perfect timing,
Always protecting my inner being while reconciling as I climb,
Climbing this ladder in this life I was given,
Driven by the beauty I see,
Knowing where I come from through my family tree,
Knowing where I’ve been, what I’ve seen,
With an active mind with neurons connecting,
Directing notions without any commotions,
Our imaginations are like the ocean,
Vast with changing tides of emotion,
Unspoken words become broken,
If you continue to keep silent,
This life we are experiencing can be vibrant,
So I look out the window and past the social climate,
Stop hiding and check out some info,
Gaining strength as I go, my way,
This is true wealth making sure I don’t betray myself,
Looking to a bookshelf to help myself learn,
Understanding one’s self has to be earned,
Through the burning temptations as I yearn for more,
The need to explore through the open door to find what’s yours,
Working on my mental flaws as I pause to give thanks,
Lighting my lamp in times of darkness,
Seeing the vastness in my mind,
Finding I have greatness that needs to be rhymed,
Designed and well organized by my inner sidekick,
Quick and honest with no nonsense I give thanks to my subconscious,
As I make a promise to myself with my inner logic,
To always write my insight and be cautious and flawless.
Quincy Mac
Date Written: 30.4.2016
I sit alone, invisible, on this chair
In a climate conditioned 22.
Surrounded by pin-boards, computers and boxes
At a grey corner desk in a zoo.
Detachable shelves hang, offering a space
To put all our things of import.
People whisper and gossip and mutter and moan
Complaining about public transport.
Glass walls are spotless, cleaned beyond clean,
I sit quiet and silent and wonder
Who fills these filing cabinets with heaps of piles
Of forms too many to number.
The clock, the exit sign, first aid, water bottle
There’s so much fun stuff to look at.
Nah, not really, it’s dull as all heck,
My earphones block out the chit chat.
This music blocks thoughts, blocks phone conversations,
Blocks noises of office and drawers.
Allows me to focus on the book I am writing
On how to teach maths to the scores.
Teaching gifted, and strugglers, hotshots and lazy.
How to engage every single school student.
To inspire their minds, how to make them solve problems
So their life can experience improvement.
I sit alone at this desk, this desk of deep thought,
In an office of busy and clean,
Not to be entertained or amused or treated
But to strengthen the mind of the teen.
That wide open plan,
The desktop area so spacious,
A vast canvas so beautiful;
Why do you sit there,
Open to all for their curiosity?
When you to me call.
Oh cupboard, that hard disk brimming with identity,
Memory no problem, even lacking files;
Proficiently organised with raging delight,
Amorous filing system which you employ.
All disks are obvious, seen by me,
Begging to be viewed, added to or changed,
Offering usage stats and permissions,
That are not just the programmer’s privilege,
But any users' decree.
No LOGO, no dos,
No text-based system to beat,
No floppies to be distorted,
By the drives' magnetic wheels.
Encrypted files are offered,
But that requires some introspection,
About whether or not your loved one,
Would really infiltrate your disk,
And read your documents.
My computer is a reflection of me,
My order or my mayhem;
No longer my prowess and endeavour,
‘Cos my articulations are my graft,
Not the machine’s mechanisations.
by: Poet destroyer
I investigated many poems today
Friendly people on this (Love Boat)
Everybody different in their own way
The evidence I found is hidden in every poetry line
Mysteriously, one poet comes from (Fantasy Island)
I am filing charges on the lady
Who welcomes you to the soup
Leaves you a comment, without reading your identity
Today I read a report on the supernatural.
Billies demons vs' (Charlies Angels.)
Investigating a woman who poets you advise, gee's how nice
I will give her a ticket, for making me feel guilty as can be
How about the clown who does not wear a rubber nose.
He puts on a show with his pen and paper (THAT IS TALENT)
He is using his ego another way
He makes us laugh, with one whip of his Belt
I will not release the name on the depressing poem I read
For her, I will stop traffic, and move everyone out of her rain
Her words made my heart bleed
A warrant goes out to the girl who used too much imagination.
I actually got to see tongues to tongue vividly.
I will never ticket the poet queen
Murder she wrote and got away,
I do not know who is the John Doe I found today.
I will be reading his poetry file.
To make sure, he is not misleading this investigation.
I also confiscated an old antique or two
Unique skills found in their retired war shoes
I did my undercover work on a serial killer case on the soup.
That is one report I did not want to picture
I hope the writer will bargain for a life sentence
In a paradise so Green.
I will soon end my file, and turn in my report about Big Foot
After I arrest them ladies who write about butterflies
It is against the law to lead us on a goose chase
We are nowhere near (A highway to heaven)
I have to go join a (S.W.A.T.) team.
To raid the aliens who invade (The little house on the prairie)
I call this group the (A team)
You know A-liens team who you are.
Someone just posted bail
For the girl who blinded us all
She wore her neon converse a straight ticket to jail
I am on a manhunt locating a molester
Every time she is spotted in a pick out line
She comes back and deletes her trade
Erasing her only profile, just to edit all over again
This coming from a crooked cop, (Magnum)P D
Reporting live on the poetry soup