Best Floorboard Poems
Behind a chair
Below a desk
with my bare feet on a wall, in my flannel pajama or a wet swimming suit,
With my hands on my peanut butter and jelly toast,
marmalade, not cherry or anything else
Next to an ocean, ignoring the smell,
Lying in a hammock or in the grass, even on a sandy gritty beach towel.
Listening to children’s giggles, being dripped on
by wet swimming suits running past
I can devour a pile of books.
History, science, animal facts, jokes, limericks, Dr. Seuss, Shel Silverstein, Coleridge, Poe.
When one grabs me and throttles me to pay attention I am lost….
I am no longer a mere mortal.
I am in a microscope, under a kitchen floorboard, in a tulip’s leaf,
I am a faery, a T-rex, a Stormtrooper, a police detective.
In a treehouse,
High above my neighbors, not hearing them at all,
Yet subconsciously hearing everything,
I learned to be a book worm, reading Agatha Christie first….
Written 3-08-19
Contest: The Bookworm Poetry Contest Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Categories:
floorboard, books,
Form:
Free verse
Another eve of another day
shrinks to wee hours;
the only light flashes dim
from a distant lamppost.
My mind’s contrarily still charged
with words, chores, lists, sacred places,
mountainous memories,
and then a thought that hasn't visited in awhile…of you.
You, a caricature of your best self,
a demon of strangled hearts,
a name chiseled into a monument of stone like expressions –
of numb feelings where tears no longer flow.
Love carried you through life…a family
bestowed a stave for your symphony,
undeserved yet wanted.
Have another drink…hide in your dank basement
drive aimlessly through town through lives through dreams
with your empty bottles sliding on the floorboard.
You became the monster of nightmares.
How did that happen? Why?
Did it lie dormant in hidden spaces?
Bottles shatter into a million pieces…they tear at souls.
Go ahead make a joke, tell a story of long ago,
sing a song with rich baritone notes…
I loved you once when pigtails brushed across my shoulders,
when you pushed me on a swing, when I was innocent…maybe
a part of me still loves who you were back then…the forgiving part of me.
Maybe if I knew all…the harrowing truth, the covered-up lies,
the sinister side, my forgiveness would be withheld.
No…some things are better left unknown.
Another eve of another day
shrinks to wee hours.
Years go by, and I think of you less…you, a man of good and evil,
you, who sang in the choir…every Sunday…
pretending.
I close my eyes with a conscious attempt
to find peace in forgiveness –
then comes thick darkness
as the flickering lamppost dies.
*a work of fiction
Categories:
floorboard, abuse, addiction, angst, forgiveness,
Form:
Free verse
I have an awful memory. It's sad.
Seemingly destroyed by that madman
Who, sixty-one years ago, pulled out
Without looking,and crashed into my car
Sending mine careering towards death.
Ha! I've got news for him, wherever,
I survived!
But you robbed me of some dreams!
Dreams that, like all memories, are passive
And cannot be completely lived again.
But it is the words... sixty-one years !
Who would have thought there'd be so many?
Amongst them, through the gaps pervading,
Are gems: Memories to be grateful for.
The tin box of silver thrupences
I hid beneath a floorboard in 1952!
Did anyone find it? Or did they rain
Down upon heads of demolition men
Like angel's tears at all destruction:
At things that should have aged and died
Naturally, in the most usual and intended way.
Gone tomorrow but here today.
© Allen Ansell 2024
Categories:
floorboard, england, history, memory,
Form:
Free verse
I pushed at the open door
no sound
just darkness inside.
Dust filtered my
nostrils,
a mustiness of lost years
inhabited my senses.
A loose floorboard
creaked in the stairwell,
the aroma
of her Chanel provoked memories
of my
living hell.
A tear of self-pity congealed
in the dirt at my feet
I switched on the light
"Hello son
I knew you'd be back;
He's gone..."
Categories:
floorboard, poetry, word play,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Down the pine-studded mountain and towards the sea
Me, mounted on a rickety, swaying, desperately-desiring bus,
Floorboard splotched with rusted holes revealing
tires
Below my feet
and salted sea wind soon
Breathing down my neck.
The Luzon day stretched before me, road
Singing in it's curves
drowning out Philippine faces painting
Collages of
colors and years.
Revealing Spanish lighthouses beckoning
Lost souls and
Galleons
Scattering gold onto
ivory shores.
One hour later,
Nerves frayed from endless bumps,
I tumble onto the palm-fringed beach to
Witness
Waves cresting like glittering
Champagne and a
Delicately worn grandmother being
Gingerly dipped into the
Azure Softness like a
Queen Cat in a
Cherub's cradle.
Categories:
floorboard, age, culture, mountains, ocean,
Form:
Free verse
I've got a Bobble Head Buddha
That nods on the dash
Some guy named Gideon
Whose Bible rides in the back
Rainbow covered Rosary beads
Hang from my mirror with ease
I've got all the bases covered
As pretty as you please
Have my cassette of Hindu chants
Where I hum along
Shaved my head for Hare Krishna
In case I get it wrong
Holy water in my reservoir
So when my windshield wipers wipe
I have that added protection
Never knowing what might
A Yarmulke from a Bar Mitzvah
In the seat next to me
With a case of Watchtower in the floorboard
I pass out for free
No cigarettes or coffee
Like a good Latter Day Saint
In case Jesus comes back a third time
Who's to say that he ain't
With all my bases covered
I feel pretty safe
Guess I can now crank the engine
And start out my day
I'm a firm believer in Jesus Christ (who's only come once but will return) and his saving grace.
I just watch some people these days bounce around from whatever religion makes them feel good and this little ditty came to mind. Each of us have a hole in our hearts only the true God can fill. If you're not satisfied with where you're at, that right there is the problem. Don't rely on man to tell you who God is...let God do that.
Categories:
floorboard, humorous, religion, sad, satire,
Form:
Free verse
A look at the floorboard of my car
Gives a glimpse into my life
All the trash that's scattered about
Necessities to survive?
An old McDonald's bag spilling it's contents
I wonder if those fries are still any good
With nary a doubt I pop them into my mouth
Hey...don't judge me, you know some of you would
There's candy, bubblegum, fortune cookie wrappers
It's all a pretty even mix
What's this? Half a granola bar?
That day I must have been on a health kick
A fist full of bank statements...withdraw, withdraw, withdraw
Without a single deposit...what am I daft?!
Oh wait a minute, here we go
Overdraft, overdraft, overdraft
I swear I hear something moving
From underneath the passenger seat
Maybe tonight I'll leave the door open
Hoping against hope it'll set itself free
The floorboard of a car speaks much of a man
And this man is pretty much a slob
Guess you could say it's a part of my life
And you ladies know that me being a man...it's also part of my job
Categories:
floorboard, funny, humor,
Form:
Free verse
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” NIV.
Two Great Commandments
We must praise God with our total being;
With newfound faith in Him are believing;
Yourself forget;
In neighbors let;
Help those in need who will be grieving.
Jim Horn
St. James Episcopal Church
Shallotte, NC
lord 127 End Rhymes
One-syllable rhymes
board
bored
chord
cord
cored
cured
fiord
fjord
floored
ford
gored
gourd
gourde
hoard
hord
horde
lord
moored
oared
pored
poured
roared
scored
shored
snored
soared
stored
sword
toured
ward
warred
whored
Two-syllable rhymes
abhorred
aboard
accord
adored
afford
award
backboard
baseboard
billboard
blackboard
breadboard
broadsword
buckboard
cardboard
chalkboard
chessboard
chipboard
clipboard
concord
contoured
corkboard
dashboard
deplored
discord
duckboard
explored
floorboard
footboard
freeboard
hardboard
headboard
highboard
ignored
implored
inboard
keyboard
landlord
lapboard
moldboard
outboard
outscored
pasteboard
pegboard
prescored
rancored
record
restored
reward
scoreboard
seaboard
shipboard
sideboard
signboard
skateboard
slumlord
soundboard
springboard
surfboard
switchboard
tagboard
toward
uncured
wallboard
warlord
washboard
whipcord
Three-syllable rhymes
aboveboard
centerboard
checkerboard
clavichord
coinsured
fiberboard
fingerboard
harpsichord
mortarboard
notochord
overboard
overlord
paperboard
pinafored
plasterboard
pompadoured
prerecord
reassured
shuffleboard
smorgasbord
stevedored
underscored
unexplored
unrestored
untoward
weatherboard
Categories:
floorboard, allegory, analogy, religious,
Form:
Limerick
There’s a man lives in my house
He’s as quiet as a mouse
I’ve never ever seen him
Don’t hear him move about
He doesn’t seem to eat
And he doesn’t drink my beer
But though no floorboard ever creaks
I know that he is here
I don’t know where he hides away
Don’t see him come and go
How does he lurk so silently
It seems I’ll never know
I almost don’t believe in him
My sanity Kaput?
I’m sure he has a missing leg
Or maybe just a foot
But there’s no peg leg pirate
Who aims to cause me fright
No ‘Ship ahoy’ or Jim lad’
Is whispered in the night
It’s no long dead seafarer
Who dwells invisibly
My evidence is tangible
As real as you and me
There’s no sign of prosthesis
Perhaps they cost too much
But any man with just one leg
Should have at least a crutch
My wife tells me I’m off my head
But I’m no loopy liar
For every day I find his sock
In my tumble dryer
Categories:
floorboard, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
A creak in the night could
Be a floorboard expanding.
A squeak in the darkness...
From a mouse scrambling outside,
A bump in the shadows
Is the cat jumping off a chair?
An iron-gate rattling -
Shaken by the wind.
The neighbours’ dog barking,
Disturbed by a passerby.
That rustle was surely,
Surely not in my bedroom.
If I pull the covers over my head
And hide I’ll be safe until morning.
I hope…
Date: 12/16/2018
Contest Name: Give Me Goosebumps
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Categories:
floorboard, childhood, dark, fear,
Form:
Free verse
Gus whose real name ain’t Gus
gets in and creaks the door shut.
Ripped vinyl, jabbing metal
cups considerable weight.
Gus whose real name ain’t Gus
slides the key into the ignition slit
on the dashboard not the column
of this galaxy five hundred.
Gus turns the key clockwise
the starter makes a hearty attempt
turning the engine over and over.
Points are contacted, little sparks erupt.
Gus releases the key which clicks back.
Sun beats down on the faded green hood.
A sigh, another try.
Shove the gas pedal through the floorboard.
The inline 6 roars to life.
Gus whose name isn’t Gus
is on his way.
Categories:
floorboard,
Form:
Free verse
Framed by moonlight,
Neither sunlit consciousness nor death's aegis,
Will come between our union tonight,
For I can no longer deny myself the happiness they promise,
Every creak in the floorboard and fluttering of my heart is talking,
Urging me to become the prince of her story,
The future they've envisioned for us seems like a fantasy,
A sleeping damsel in distress calling for a knight in shining armor to defeat the societal dragon,
And exchange an eternal vow through one swift motion,
Life after death wrapped in each other's arms,
Devoid of doubt or personal persecution I leave the door ajar,
Allowing the night sky to be our chapel and the stars our ladies in waiting,
The moon illuminating your mattress altar in a white crystal morning,
I stand behind your headboard,
Too far away to kiss but close enough to touch,
Venerating your resting form that I for so long have secretly adored,
Stricken by your dormant beauty I use your pillow as a crutch,
To gaze longingly at your chest as I lay a single rose,
Commemorating our transition out of life's comatose,
Our bodies a mere breath away from coexistence,
The night breeze envelops my senses with your intoxicating fragrance,
Leaving my arm weak and trembling as I raise my knife,
Surrendering to our last moments of mortality I crane my neck to give a final goodbye,
Your terminal expression captured in my knife's reflection,
I plunge the knife into my chest embracing their postmortem romance doctrine,
And without volumes of poetry nor gifts of gold and ivory,
I inter our wedding in your bedroom cemetery,
Our chests adorned with matching wounds,
Only a few moments left before my dream comes true,
So for the first time I hold your hand,
I sever it, sewing it to my chest as a macarbre wedding band,
Christening our matrimony between corpse and man,
A loving bond the world cannot understand,
Never again will I be alone,
Nor will she need a tombstone.
Categories:
floorboard, girl, inspiration, love, love
Form:
Rhyme
The old Ford truck was dustin’ the gravel roads that day
I was listening to some pounding seventies hits
My second bottle was about empty by my thirst
Nothing much else to do on a hot dry southern day
But drive, drink, and listen to the AM radio
Cruising the hills, hairpin curves, and old wooden bridges
On this particular day, I was feeling just fine
A pint of vodka, grapefruit juice, and a little weed
Lived so far back in the woods, that was my company
A troubled, poor loner, with an old blue pick-up truck
I had driven those back roads over a hundred times
A stop at a bootlegger and a lovely dream ride
This particular day, the tie rod end just broke loose
The steering wheel spun like a top in my fumbling hands
I dived in the floorboard as we went end over end
My Ford and I landed stuck between two cedar trees
I remember the quit ‘cept for the radio
Doors were stuck, so I kicked out the windshield and crawled out
After climbing about halfway up the embankment
I heard the radio still playing back in the truck
It was a Lynyrd Skynyrd classic, my favorite
“Gimme Back My Bullets”
So, I went back down the hill to where the old Ford sat
I climbed on the hood and reached through the shattered windshield
I shut the ignition off and pocketed the keys
As I started back up the embankment, I just laughed
Didn’t matter if the key was on, the truck was totaled
When I reached the road, I flagged an approaching sedan
It was two girls from school looking real scared when they stopped
Trying to look my best with blood running down my face
I said, “You ladies headed my way, by any chance?”
They looked at each other and one of them said, “Where’s that?”
Brushing the broken glass out of my long raven hair
I dusted off my shirt and the tucked it into my jeans
Looking back down at my old truck pinned between those trees
I bent down and looked in the driver’s window and smiled
“Well it don’t matter babe, as long as it’s not here.”
Ended up walking home that day, laughing all the way
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
Categories:
floorboard, teen, old, old,
Form:
Free verse
The black skies poured outside, the walls that kept me in, felt safer than ever. Every day, I stand here and wonder “why is the world like this?” The grueling discrimination over us, just because we are Jews, the hatred and disgust, they all send me into a ball: flying through the air, with the tears strolling behind me.
Here I am, sitting in the corner, taking in my own thoughts all as I take the day away. All a sudden, I hear footsteps, coming up the wooden staircase; these aren’t the normal ones though, that is quiet as a mouse. These ones…they were different, they sounded like heavy leather boots pounding the floorboard. The screams of a thousand souls filled through the air, my heart was throbbing, and I knew who it was. The Nazis has found us, but how though? We have never been out past eight, if were the worst possible things would happen. A deep voice yells “You bloody Jews! You do not deserve to live!” I rush into the middle part of the attic, an evil man, drags my mother out the door. I run toward her, faster and faster, but then I’m grabbed from behind. I kick and squirm, but it is no use…I have been captured. The genocide, pointed toward the Jewish has come to extravagant measures, murdering off our population. One by one, we perish into the deepest despairs. Adolf Hitler, the one who made this all happen, has turned everyone against us. My friends, teachers and just plain old passer byers on the streets…all of them. Every day, while I am in hiding, I think about how it was when I was just a normal child, when I could play with my friends on the streets and not see the rising of Nazi flags. I haven’t seen daylight ever since I was about eight years old, what a wonderful sight it was!
Categories:
floorboard, holocaust,
Form:
Narrative
Construction workers did their job
Their voices and their tools are gone
They left the smell of concrete dust
They left the smell of new
We smell an almost home sweet home
Our whispers bounce from wall to wall
The doorpost needs a coat of paint
The carpet seeks a place to rest
Still we are strangers, we are guests
We do not know which floorboard squeaks
The smells of day, the sounds of night
have not yet settled in our minds
One day this house will be our friend
No longer will we call it new
The table, chairs, the lazy couch
lie comfy in its warm embrace
Categories:
floorboard, family
Form:
Blank verse