Best Fold Up Poems
IF POETS RULED THE WORLD
If poets ruled the world
laws would be written with panache and...
oh yes, compassion;
civil liberty in fashion.
Carpetbaggers fold up your tents and cash in.
Poets. like mothers,
would never send their brothers to war.
Poets don’t have voices that sound like guns,
words can bite, incite,
but history is made by men who fight
not for wrong or right but might.
If poets ruled the world
every city block would have a park
for birds and dogs alike,
with a path for bikes and soft ice cream.
Trees would be everywhere, cars even fewer.
The whole damn system flushed down the sewer
if only poets were the rulers.
If the world by poets was ruled
hunger would feed on the deeds of honest men,
perhaps not Zen but a blend
of now and then, form and function.
Tear down the walls of corruption in government,
make way for equanimity, grace of femininity.
So let it be known and forever shown
that poets should rule the world.
Dec 21/18
NOTE: This style is one I developed and is called a SCIRPO which is Italian for weave or twist.
It is characterized by a rhyme scheme that wraps around itself in no particular order.
Also, each stanza adds another line moving from 5 to 6 to 7 to 8 lines and so on
Categories:
fold up, community, inspirational, leadership,
Form:
Rhyme
I hold in my hand Mama's old fold-up Kodak
In its steel-blue case shut with a tiny curved silver latch.
I carefully unlatch it, watch the worn-out flaky bellows
Extend like an unwelcome, nonfunctional ********,
Emitting a strange smell I remember from my childhood
Seventy years ago, when Mama sternly warned,
"Don't let me catch you playing with my camera! "
But I did, every chance I got; it beckoned to me
Like the epitome of enticement, the soft furry succulent
Cactus she warned us kids never to touch.
But I did, once … once, believe me, and never after!
And I said her camera was the only thing I wanted
That belonged to her when she was gone.
The cactus wrinkled and died years ago from lack of care.
Categories:
fold up, kid, memory, mother,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Shun me not for without you I'm neither rain or sky
whilst I fold up my senses and slowly die
life is never perfect in fact its a far cry
only brave survive dear so lets take it high
to the ends of the earth where stars have no fear
when sun fades its to allow moon to draw near
does love oblige sometime, just to dry a tear
yes it does that is how it keeps us in the clear
include me in the breaths you take every day
let me be your light, your truth and your way
close the curtains of hate know what they say
the thin line between the two can be so gray
Shun me not for without you I am neither day or night
let us seize this love and be, each others crystal light.
Categories:
fold up, analogy, love,
Form:
Sonnet
DREAM VISITOR
DREAM VISITOR
Welcome intruder of my private world
visiting me at the twilight of my sleep
finishing with me into the deep slumber.
Satisfying me into completeness
dream visitor, you have come again
to ravish me and to make me shy.
I see your shadow, I feel your presence
about me, you live inside me, lay atop of
my nudity, arousing sensuous stimuli,
causing spontaneous imploding- and tremors.!
My senses go haywire, starting a-fire, I am now lit.
You then let me shoulder in all that you have
induced. I lie there, desire-ring nothing-
squirming in tranquility.
Upon awakening I am shy, As I appear
to you in reality, somehow you have to know.
My brain has scattered as I fold-up like a
Chinese-fan before your very eyes
I run away when I see you in the day.
Afraid that my eyes may reveal, or betray me;
You must know, you were there in spirit and it seems.
In daylight you mock me.
When your spirit visits my dreams, it is impossible
that we are not both inclined, to have arrive at this apex
same time; Are you my coitus ghost?
fulfilling me to the utmost.?
In reality, when I see you, I lose all my of my faculties.
I avoid you in the daytime too; Upon laying eyes on you.
I forget what I came to say or do. If I look at you;
Immediately sensations rush through.
The fact of the matter is, like a school-girl I am flattered
At the twilight of my sleep you enter. As you ignite and
quell fires in me, ecstatically overwhelmed- You finish me.
leaving me conquered by your rapture' visitor.
O' intruder of my slumber- O' Dream visitor of mine.
I gain control by staying busy all the day;
wanting to exhaust myself - Thus the only way to
prevent your visit, I must, and keep you beyond
the barriers of my deep slumber.
Tonight, I deeply sleep, becoming totally
in-cognizant; You will need consent.
I must not lose control of my dreams.
I cannot lose control of my dreams to
this ravenous intruder who satisfies me beyond reality.!
Tonight, your spirit will not demand my flesh-
I wild hide behind the sound wall of exhaustion.
Even though I have never known such contentment,
O’ prowess of Morpheus. O' dream intruder-
the morning after is too confounding!
Categories:
fold up, beautiful, desire, fantasy, good
Form:
Verse
Sometimes trees’ green fingers
Stand still like reposing harbingers
Of hope and despair; they meditate
On our ignorance of them who medicate
Us when diseases burgle into our souls
Taking us unawares like April fools.
At times tree branches and leaves
Come to a halt and fold up their sleeves.
Like parentless kids, they stand still,
Holding Ozone Crisis Meetings until
God’s silent servants come and sway
Them from angle to angle, wiping away
The spells of fear that cloud our faces
Each time leaves go on leave leaving no traces
Of further existence for Man who digs
His graves whenever he murders figs—
The figs that link us to the Unseen Being
Who reveals His presence in Man’s wellbeing.
But when God’s blowing sons and daughters
Sweep across Earth, letting twigs leave their fathers,
Falling twigs and dried leaves clatter
And produce celestial music to flatter
Man while lizards play basses with tails
And flying fowls chant solos and tales.
Then Man joins this universal worship,
Going down on knees to supplicate God’s fellowship,
Feeding his doubting heart with conviction
As Christ’s promises come to completion
Revealing the active hands of a Father Invisible
Who marvels His creatures with things invincible.
When these invisible but active servants of God gather
More momentum in synergy with Sun, leaves wither,
Tree trunks go epileptic while roofs migrate
And mortal Man gets to concentrate
On these leaves and stems which go on retirement
To remind him of his own imminent retirement.
(Between Carriere and Mbankolo, Sunday 02 December 2012)
Categories:
fold up, tree,
Form:
Alliteration
I am here today Christmas Eve 2015 to share my miracle and the Christmas Story Miracle of 2015. Last year near Christmas Eve on the Winter Solstice I attended a service to honor the Return of the Light or the Christ Light/Christ Conspicuousness.
I wrote copy of lyrics of a song about the Return of the light because the minister who was administering the outdoor service would ask if anyone wanted to contribute a word or two during the service.
We gather in the cold in the woods after sunset some of us brought lawn chairs while others set on logs, the night was clear and beautiful. I looked up and watched the night sky in wonder.
But when the call came to volunteer one's voice during the service I remained silent and did not sing the song which I had crumbled up in my back pocket.
This week of Christmas 2015 I was thinking that I will attend at least two or more Christmas Eve services to do it again and lift up my voice to sing a song that was on my heart.
And that's when I got the sign on Christmas Eve morning 2015, when I first wake up and I opened my bedroom door to the small hallway leading to the living room I spotted a fold-up piece of yellow writing paper.
It was the same yellow writing paper that I had crumbled up in my pocket last year (that song) and that I have not seen since, where did it come from, how it get here on the floor and how did it come from were the many questions running to my awake/sleepy mind at 5 am.
Some one told me that I walk around in my own home in a fourth state of dimension but I do not believe this. I believe that the angels/my guides/Mother Mary may have sometime to do with my Christmas miracle.
Most of my inspired messages, thoughts, poems and affirmations come to me in that stage of asleep/awakening.
And what I heard this morning was this:
Fall to call
To know
Born from sin
Born again
To Ascend
From thyself
to thyself
A joyful noise
Psalms 100:
'Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the lands!'
When I am in attendance at Christmas Eve service today I will carry that same yellow crumbled up piece of paper (that returned to me) with a message that Christmas for me is about the Return of the Christ Light.
Categories:
fold up, angel, christian, christmas, holiday,
Form:
Narrative
To die
One must be alive
So where am I?
To cry
One must feel loss
No one to miss, empty tears dry
To fly
One must have wings
If only broken I could tumble and be gone
To lie
One must smile to the outside
While stumbling in darkness, wonder why?
To scrape by
One has fold up the heart
Knowing there is no second start
To be the butterfly
I must possess wings of beauty
Before being crushed by heavy winds
To justify
One must choose the rope or the knife
Before hanging on last goodbyes
To note
One must hold the pen with ink
Leaking words with last of drink
Categories:
fold up, art, loss, philosophy, suicide,
Form:
Free verse
Some people call a dandelion a weed,
but to me it is a pretty wildflower indeed.
With yellow petals at the top of each one,
like golden rays just like the sun.
Blooming like stars in the meadows and grass,
bigger, bigger and bigger as hot days pass.
Under the rain clouds or bright blue skies,
they are visited by insects and butterflies.
Then, all of a sudden one day,
they fold up their petals and the yellow tumbles away.
And instead they now have fluffy tufts delicate and white.
so fragile, lovely and light.
They send flying the fluffy tufts in the wind happily freed,
oh, each one is a new dandelion seed.
Soon they find a place to grow and grow,
sending their roots deep into the soil below.
New buds in no time open to the sky,
and soon we find yellow wildflowers growing high.
Now you can make a yellow bouquet for mommy,
or daddy or even your sweet gran-mommy.
________________________
March 6, 2021
Poetry/Nursery Rhyme/Dandelion
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1334-406-06
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Nursery Rhyme
sponsor, Eve Roper, Judged 03/11/2021
First Place
Categories:
fold up, nursery rhyme,
Form:
Rhyme
The sun dappled patio
irresistibly beckoned
pillowed pad to bedeck
cement spongsbob
square pant sized couch cushions
leapt into field of view
as a posse able a gent
provocateurs silently
conspiring as from
azure heavenly vault sent
thus busying mine hands created
simple bed to cradle this loner meant
as temporary escape from cares
and concerns of uncertain world rent
asunder by craven, frenzied, intractable,
lamentable, offal, rogues hell bent
on up-ending peaceful co-existence
across terrestrial plane where decent
folks (including this writer) live
to enjoy simple pleasures
donned with raiment
acquired thrift-store or yard sale couture
affordable dollar, quarter or cent
thus bagged belongings
comprise wardrobe
since personal preference
to expand content
of body, mind, and spirit triage
in tandem drinking warmth
of solar rays event
like manna to this *****Sapiens,
who when basking
pondered where time went
and on picture perfect summer day
pastoral symphony of nature lent
removed bifocals
to let photons of el sol
this archetype
laughingstock wannabe
of Clark Kent
unaware spouse surreptitiously
snuck up perhaps
to steal a kiss or other pent
up animalistic call of the wild,
which elements of huss style
anathema to a convent
where such nun sense
would be abominable,
but secular mores fervent,
especially when
weather fires imagination
as witnessed by 59+ year spent
mortal male oblivious
to presence of wife
until she planted buttocks and bent
bifocals camouflaged
by matted materiel of a fold-up
metal chair which accent
of Gluteus Maximus crushed
side of frame wear
sole pair of spectacles dent
dislodging right side lens thus
to see in sharp focus
cheeky fate did prevent.
Categories:
fold up, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Free verse
I try to establish strong mental footholds
In resemblance to fort knox physical strongholds
Through repentance I lost the spiritual blindfold
So every sentence I mock material billfolds
I seek an understanding of answers beyond the proven
Discreet but demanding how choices response woven
Steep iceberg floating trying to go past frozen
Deep dreamer mind roaming wake to visions unspoken
I walk a new direction to relieve my transgressions
I look toward heaven to receive a better connection
My poetic expressions are close to schools lessons
Not prophetic but blessings do follow these sessions
I choose my own path and I fold up my coattails
So whether tears or laugh others stand behind guardrails
If life is simple math I want some calculus from Yale
No test I cannot pass its like the answers are wholesale
Categories:
fold up, faith, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
A wisp of blue
Morning mist
Caresses the mirrored lake
As a pale yellow sun
Slowly filters through;
Two Mute Swans
Sail effortlessly by
In stately splendour.
A rivulet trickles
Beside a bridge
Built of mellow stone;
Here field mice
Will find refreshment
Through their busy day.
High above
A sycamore tree
Not a breath of wind
Stirs a single leaf,
And down below
A Fly Agaric
Stands silently proud
Like a miniature
Red umbrella.
Sitting, in his fold-up chair
Surveying it all,
A lone fisherman
Drinks in the scene,
And breathes
A contended sigh…
Categories:
fold up, nature
Form:
Free verse
We touch I feel a rush
We clutch it isn't much
I can't feel my heart beat when I see you on street*
˜
You ain't ever gonna break my glass
My windshields too strong you
The way you can't break my heart, my soul is closed to you.*
˜
But no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep
Maybe one day we'll wake up and this will all just be a dream
A mirage maybe, but it could be really true all I want to*
is see our love shine through.*
˜
I'm equivalent to a shot of Cuevo, first I kiss your navel
Are we back together, if not i won't be able.*
Blood pressure climbs at a dramatic rate, I seem to gravitate to the bottle of NyQuil then I salivate.
˜
I fall asleep with nightmare sweats and wake wondering how I'll get dressed!*
Okay quit playing with the scissors and ****, and cut the crap
I shouldn't have to rhyme these words in the rhythm for you to know it's a rap
˜
You drive me crazy sometimes I want to run, but that's given in and that is no fun.*
I'm a soldier, these shoulder's hold up so much, they won't budge,
I'll never fall or fold up.
Songs used by Eminem
-Spacebound
-Deja vu
Soldier
Not Afraid
Same song and dance
Lines ending in an astricks* are my lines.
Categories:
fold up, love,
Form:
Lyric
THE WIFE
The fog smoking to the skies
Architecting more grey clouds
The ticking hands of the clock
Day getting old for more sunrays
With the luggage, I slam the door behind
Praying for traffic to fold up
Ugly devils working round my brains
The brakes should strike, screech with anger
Where exactly will my head lay tonight
If the mouth at home still not glued up
Chatterbox for a wife, willing agent of evil
A blessing confused for less in the brains
The litter flows out in the upper outlet
Words enough to fill a river down the ocean
A recorder would be witness at the jury
Noble men climb mountains for their queens
Go miles to fetch water not sleepy lazybone
They dance and kiss at the cocktails
The tape rewinds on my idle brain
Skies dark, at last pillow comfort my head
Tomorrow I fill my boot before the birds awake
Before the cockerel switches her day on I’ll run
Long trip to endless world with no soon return
Lovely note scribbled to my mother, my dear joy
The single woman my heart forever adores
But down on knees, heart to the High King
Miracles of ancient, heard still exist
Angels descend, its urgent or a soul falls
All gadgets at hand, replenish her every part
Or by the walkside, send me the perfect rib
Categories:
fold up, abuse, art, bullying,
Form:
Ballad
NOISES AND VOICES
( By S.Jagathsimhan Nair)
In my hotel room
I am abridged to a cube of light
I fold up into silence
The room is now full of noises
I took nine months to notice its
Paint’s tint. Its off pink brazenness
Its saffron aloofness, its overall
Oneness with my mind’s divisions.
Masons’ toil and owner’s order
And the combined craft receives
Caparisoned flesh and fleshed souls
Flesh that knows not openness
Souls that know not oneness with space
Despite its fast format of flux
It’s but its very same sameness
Wound up histories live side by but
How are the living mere actors
This strange physician with a stare
Prescribes a drug- god dichotomy
For cure. Another inmate kills his
Cancer with liquor and cigar
A plain youth plays cards with his peers
Occasionally a bedlam
Keeps mum or an argument mediates
Meditate incurably or
Float dead-flat in a rock-hard cot
Caught in its vortex I am flying
To its fringe. Is this bruise
Showing out of the earth. Is it
A piece of news blessing the battered
Here now I’m once again abridged
To a cube of nonchalant light
I wake up from my silence
The room is full of rare voices.
Categories:
fold up, life, mum, drug,
Form:
Free verse
THE BETRAYAL
Both lovers were in Love,
Their love seems to be from above
The relationship that looks so strong,
Looks as if something is getting wrong
The lady was actually the betrayer,
In fact she was indeed a destroyer
After so many calls, there was no amendment,
Cos she never had any commitment
This is a relationship of a year plus,
And she made failed promises about us
So many love poems written about her,
To her she made the relationship over
I thought she was the best,
But now I realize she is a pest
She caused so much pains to the heart,
And made the relationship fold up with her act
The heart eventually get hurt,
I can't even sue her to court
Cos there was no written agreement,
But she was just a disappointment
-Phemy
JUNE, 2017
Categories:
fold up, anger,
Form:
Rhyme