Best High Maintenance Poems | Poetry
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High Maintenance Woman
by williams, john
High maintenance babe
by Spahillari, Dino
HIGH MAINTENANCE
by Stiles, Stacy
View all new High Maintenance Poems
The Best High Maintenance Poems
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High Maintenance Poem
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3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison
High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies
Lemon yellow coated walls,
Flat,
Like their smiles
Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
Pacifiers included
The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.
Courtesy laughter in snob’s octave
Their heads twitching side to side,
Left to right to left
An equilibrium facing assault charges against self
They slow dance to cello dreams
And E minor dividends
Two-step monotone, sway
Against platinum lacquer foundations
…
But, it was then.
These same socialites,
Made of recycled candle wax
And rubberized, hedge-fund confidence,
Began to stare longingly at the party host’s 70 inch plasma TV
Proudly imported from China
“Attention uptight snobs of Mecca!
The city zoo has imploded!
The monkeys revolted!
The zebras were tired of being racially profiled!
Run for your LIV…!”
(SMASH!)
And before the reporter’s frightened inner child could finish’s his clause,
An elephant crashes into the decadent room
Filled with Crisp linen scents of Febreze & judgmental fear
It stares at the socialites,
Laughing heartedly as it playfully stomps away into constellation’s onyx night
As tears waterfall from the snobs’ sobbing eye sockets
As if they just listened to another Celine Dion song
The real newsflash
Metaphors played hooky today
©Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013
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When a relationship is based
on a red hot snapper
with a knockout wrapper
that builds a fire in your jeans.
This kind of marriage is for
the movie screen.
In time the snapper cools down.
The knockout wrapper isn't
quite the knockout it used to be
and the fire in your jeans is on it's way out.
This is now the beginning of the end.
You don't really know each other
your not even friends
and now the fights begin.
If you had picked your wife for life
with the head on your shoulders
instead of the one between your knees,
you might have found a wife for life
instead of a high maintenance money pit
that you can't please.
Copyright © Terry L. Allen | Year Posted 2012
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A stunning woman, so beautiful and polite,
But causing concern, I'm thinking twice,
My girl puts my credit card to much use
Tantamount to severe financial abuse,
Although, I do enjoy her other vice.
Copyright © john williams | Year Posted 2015
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I see you straight tripping
When you see my cell phone still flipping
Yeah, you think you're the shizzle
Drop it in water it still gonna fizzle
How's this for a paycheck paper weight
Its still gotta a two hour battery life you hate
Can ya playlist still find that song, I shuffled
All I hear is your nursery rhyme muffled
Yeah, you're all hot, one tricked out pony
Bet ya still payin for it, how's that rice-a-roni?
Take ya high maintenance attitude down the street
While I'm still singing to my own beat
Take ya little bench warming money trap
School's over, hope you got the app
Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark | Year Posted 2014
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Alcatraz Penitentiary is located in California in San Francisco.
It became a Federal Penitentiary about eighty years ago.
Alcatraz was the prison where Al Capone was sent.
He wasn't happy about the place where he went.
Alcatraz had four wardens, they were James Johnston, Edwin Swope, Paul Madigan and Olin Blackwell.
Machine Gun Kelly, Mickey Cohen, Robert F. Stroud and many other criminals were sent to this jail.
Alcatraz is located on an island and was believed to be escape proof.
But in 1962, three men may have shown us that that wasn't the truth.
They escaped but were presumed dead but it's possible that they survived.
Their bodies were never found, nobody knows for sure if they're still alive.
Alcatraz closed in 1963 because of high maintenance costs and a poor reputation.
This wasn't a good prison to be sent to, believe me that's no exaggeration.
(This is a true story)
Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2014
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M y precious beloved, neurotic doggie
Y es, I almost kicked my husband out of bed and replaced him with Ollie
D oes not like to go downstairs, so you have to coax him with a treat
O verweight, so he grunts when he goes upstairs, his favorite place to be
G oes to sleep most of the day, unless it is time to eat
O liver is my mini-dauschand with short little legs and fat feet
L ong he is and a bit heavy and allergic to everything he eats
I spend lots of money on dog food because he is so high maintenance
V et bill too there are so many illnesses, sore feet, nails, and what else?
E verytime I go to sleep he lies close to me, he’s my best friend of all
R ight next to my husband whose sleeping like a log!
©Holly P. Moore
February 2013
Copyright © HOLLY MOORE | Year Posted 2013
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Ahh what does that mean?
I heard that in my spirit
Oh yeah I'll let off steam
I'll let you know how I feel
And that is bull s
Haha yeah bull s
There is just no way I like you
Because we are not meant for each other
You are too different from me
Or is it me from you?
I am too difficult
High maintenance
And do whatever I please
I am not used to rules
And will break it if one is imposed on me
I don't like to say what I do
I just do it
I don't like to keep promises
Therefore I don't promise
I can be a pain in the butt
And can be a bull when challenged
I have things to share
But I only share when I feel like it
Ahh and don't get me mad
As you don't know what things I can do
Yeah that's me
Glorious me
Things will not be the same without me
Haha and that is just the way I like it
Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2015
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Do I want to only look at new ones,
never been used,
or is that a too restrictive market,
too competitively priced
for virginity of place and relationship on Earth?
And, is such redemptively-intended virginity
an asset or a deficit,
in which ways?
Could I rather shop in a wider market,
someplace more gently used
and well-maintained,
someplace with smooth natural wood and stone,
rich in character
and not the smell of fresh acrylic paint,
when I could have wisteria and roses
lavender and mint
wafting through those big brown
or blue
or grey
or hazel door and window frames.
If this prospective relationship
does not bring sanity and health and pleasure and beauty
then is that not a contract violation
and time to be thinking about separation
so Self and Others can get back into our confluent market
for a better fit with this Time;
not a decade ago?
Have my needs
and wants
and preferences changed,
while my life partner's and vocation's may feel
boxed in,
no more room for additions,
lack of flexible floor plan,
too big or too small?
It happens.
Have I changed my definition of paradise
"beloved community"
is not who I am still investing in.
My fellow pilgrims, and places, and their path,
seem entrenched in incompatibility.
They have grown older,
more cracks in the plaster,
wear in the not-so-natural rugs,
missing some shingles on the roof.
Does the view from outside
look more like a weedpatch,
than my intended investment in paradise?
While shopping used expands your multicultural potential,
it also brings its baggage.
All that good and/or bad karma
yours for a down payment
but not always part of what you bargain for.
Did I ask if anyone had ever been murdered here,
or how many toxic fantasies cast their shadows?
Is this
place/person
service/product/plant
swimming in carcinogens,
tumorous habits growing mold under the roof?
What is prior experience with abuse,
neglect,
deferred maintenance?
Do I have a right to know, to be informed? Could I ask prior co-habitors and self-marketers with a prospective position/vocation/place/person:
Why are the two of you going your separate ways?
Was this your decision or did it feel more like
your house/spouse/employer gave you no choice?
If it was your choice,
if you have moved on
to something more to your liking,
rather than merely running away
from a smelly situation,
then what does your current relationship
offer you
by way of contentment,
and peace,
with justice and beauty and health,
that is lacking in my prospective investment?
Perhaps there were reasons unrelated to your vocational satisfaction.
Maybe you couldn't afford to stay any more?
Is this place/person high maintenance, do you think?
Too heavily taxing,
bleeding you through inflated costs of living,
working,
divesting,
dispossession of responsibility
and/or authority,
too much Win-Lose gaming?
Are there problems in the neighborhood/extended family
that I should know about?
Does the plumbing still work?
Are the lights on but nobody's home?
Would you recommend your house/spouse/job
to your best in-the-market friend?
Why or why not?
What interior and exterior landscape and design issues
did you have?
What did you find were your interior and exterior relational strengths
for future development?
Knowing what you have learned
through your own investment experience,
who do you think would be the ideal partner
for this former place now in my face?
Too much information, or appropriate responsibility to be informed
of which economic and political incarnations we embrace?
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
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Today
you look
like a peanut
assaulted
in a bad neighborhood...
Back in time
you dreamed to date
Brad Pitt
but he was taken
from Angelina Jolie
a true man eater
then you hooked-up
with a hairy biker
a body builder
who is about to explode
like a thanksgiving turkey
feed in steroids and cocaine
like a pig in an all you can eat
garbage joint
who goes crazy
and beats the crap out of you
at night
and early in the morning...
See
it's white snow
but dogs poop
on it...
Copyright © Dino Spahillari | Year Posted 2012
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Memories Episode 4
continued from 'Wistful expectations' - (Memories Episode 3)
Sunshine streaking through the blinds awakes me
My deficient memory state got a luxury sleep in
Encapsulating facts from my confused dream
I attempt to analyse facts from the muddle deep within
I recapture my dream
I’m in an office - my own it seems
I look at the monitor it’s filled with spreadsheets
Figures and columns - I stare - I wonder
What on earth am I working on?
It all makes no sense
Irritated voices filtering from the next room
Men’s voices in heated argument
In spite of feeling intrusive like an eaves dropper
I strain to listen but can’t distinguish the muffled words
Moving closer to the separating wall
The raised voices seem distinctly familiar
‘Manipulation’-‘Fraud’ - ’Deception’
Odd words from acutely stressed voices filter out
‘This will sink us Greg – not to mention a stint in jail’
A snide laugh - ironic and nasty
This time the words ring out quite clearly
‘Spending investor funds on your woman
Your high maintenance woman
With her lavishly expensive tastes’
‘Have you told Gabby about her yet? About your Maddison’
Oh my - what have I got myself into?
I move back to the monitor and gather information
These men seem to be large scale stock brokers
Trading on the markets, buying and selling securities
I scroll through there are lists and lists of investors
There are places I was never meant to go
Things that I was never meant to see
Instinctively I reach for the phone- just as my door opens
“Oh what a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive”*
And then I’m awake and here in my room
Is my name Maddison?
I’m the other woman?
The ring less finger - Now it’s all starting to make sense
Though there’s one thing that doesn’t
I look at my mirrored reflection
Nothing - Nothing
Except that one thing
I don’t feel like a Maddison
I dig deep trying to hear my mother
If I have a mother - I try to imagine hearing her calling me
Maddison - Maddison - Maddison
No - No - No!!
I don’t feel like a Maddison
I don’t feel high maintenance
I haven’t even visited the hairdresser on this floor
Why haven’t I felt an overwhelming urge to take myself there?
I look at my nails, they are short.
Wouldn’t they be long and fashionably styled?
If I was so high maintenance?
Even with my fog brain I would know
Silly needs like that would always stay
Vanity cannot be denied
An overwhelming urge to be sick
And I just make it to the toilet in time
I come out I see my nurse watching me
A slight smile hovers on her lips
She knows I’m pregnant - She knows I’m pregnant?
But how she would know - that is beyond me
An old tune plays softly from the next room
I know the old lady from there
‘Smoke gets in your eyes’ - I know that song well
Did my mother or father like it too?
This seems all too familiar
And out of the blue it all gets too much
My fuddled brain - the words from the song
My nurse is starting to feel more like my mother
She takes me into her arms
Did Love enter my life only to turn?
Did I try to convince him knowing the lies?
That our love was true despite the deceit
And voluntarily permit the smoke in my eyes?
Oh deception how you wickedly flirt
With this poor blurred mind steeped in amnesia
Emotional therapy will play no major part
To withhold the pain without anesthesia
Stay tuned for next episode… ‘Run Run As Fast As you Can’
Episode list in consecutive order:
Memories - Episode 1
Blind Terror - (Memories Episode 2)
Wistful Expectations - (Memories Episode 3)
Deception - (Memories Episode 4)
Run Run As Fast As You Can - (Memories Episode 5)
Running - (Memories Episode 6)
Reference * ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave…’ - Sir Walter Scott - ‘Marmion’1806
Image from Movie poster of Deception 2008
Music Video - The Platters – ‘Smoke Gets In Your Eyes’
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017
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High strung
Passionate
Perfectionist freak
Manic
Compulsive
Meticulous
Intense
High maintenance
HIGH MAINTENANCE
MONICA
Yes….I see a lot Monica in me. “You think I’m high maintenance???? Tell me how. Make a list and we will go over it POINT by POINT!” She spouted this out while trying to convince Phoebe otherwise. Well, I’m high maintenance because I feel, extremely!! Perfectionist!!! (Melancholy/Sanguine with a touch of crazy!) When God created me….He placed emotional sensors in every single cell of my body, it seems….INTENSE! Well, yes, it CAN be hard to handle….But listen, LISTEN to what Chandler says to Monica that makes him like the most amazing guy on Friends. “Yes, you ARE high maintenance, but that’s ok because….I like maintaining you!” You wouldn't exactly consider that some sentence that is dripping with passion and romance, but wow! That would make me FLY! :)
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
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My friendship might take effort
I am high maintenance too
But if you face a problem
I’m the one who’ll stand by you
Time investment’s an issue
My love needs nurture to grow
But if you’re ever alone
You can count on me, you know
Some people don’t like “intense”
They just want to keep things light
But when they struggle with grief
I’m the one they call at night
The truth is life has bad times
That can make the strongest weak
It is in these thunderstorms
Words of comfort I will speak
So, yes…you may not be sure
If I deserve time of day
But when you want someone near
I’m the one you’ll beg to stay.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2012
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I like to sit and watch them boys
Tinker with their toys
Hood up, hands grimy
Sweat pouring down handsome faces
Oil spots in weird places
I like to sit and watch them work with a master’s poise
Those car loving boys
I love to watch them
gently
O p e n
a portion of their hearts
Brave Chiseled faces soften
Polishing seldom seen chrome smiles and illuminating smarts
And every so often
If bad enough, rusty rim spots
I enjoy
Witnessing the Magic of mechanics
Gazing at the devotion streaming
From ignitions, and the spark
Plugs closing the world off
It’s just him and his baby
He knows what’s wrong by the sound of her voice
When she chokes or when her axle will give out
Lover’s intuition
Propping open her chest and knowing
Where her nerves are, and how to touch her just right
A mechanic knight on a mission
A twist here, a yank there
A closer inspection
A poke, a dusting,
A little loving
Some gentle scrubbing
The excitement when she finally purrs
Like a Tiger
Sleek and shiny
Curvaceous and Dangerous
When at her best
So for the Rice Boys with a Mitsubishi Eclipse
The restored Mustangs or project whips
The Homeboys Lowridin’
Hydraulics jumpin’ , bass pumpin’, mind grindin’
Cadillac Macks with wood grain and leather
Or those Bad Boys with Harley’s that can go in any kind of weather
sugar sweet cowboys with pick-up trucks
Rich boys with Jaguars that like to get crunk
Papi Chulos with SUV’s
Shot gun is where I want to be
Mm, Baby, imagine it
Ain't you badder than bad?
With the stereo blasting our favorite song
Darkest Tint, sunglasses on
Your two favorite Ladies by your side
Slick
I promise
I will never get jealous or act suspicious
I’m fine being the mistress as long as
he has the patience
understands my high maintenance
And , for sure
that he knows how to
Make MY engine
Roar
Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007
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I cant figure out why women are such a puzzeling sex to men.
I think its like the three letter word, we say when, and you say how long
has it been?
I especially love it when they say " oh I'm not high maintenance" and
I need to get this and that done as we scratch our heads and say is it me
or is she the only one.
When we go out we pick any old thing we have on hand, and women say
"Oh I have to get something new" and it probably cost more than our wedding
bands.
We guys go and spend ten bucks on a haircut and a shave, but when you go its
an all day affair and cost so much I have to ask for a raise.
So men we are left to ponder and sworn to never concede,
but I find its easier not to argue and just give them what they need.
Copyright © Edward LaMarre | Year Posted 2008
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I suppose it isn't rather nice
to think of us this way,
but to the squirrels
and the trees,
the robins and the grasses,
human natures are Earth's great transitioning immigrants
on this block
we call a planet.
In this newest arrival sense,
I hope and fear
we are Earth's greatest immigrant yield,
pushing transitional boundaries
toward radical landscape and even climate caustic developments
Earth prefers somewhat less infestation of,
for every animated creation's sake.
Even the rivers and lakes
and ice caps
and glaciers complain
about us,
their latest wave of high maintenance immigrants.
Cousins, maybe,
when Earth's NonHuman Tribes are in a more generous mood.
Extended family drawn from pre-historic RNA,
then those upstart DNA, roots,
yet still evolving emergent family economies
out to uncomfortably embrace our less ecological nonsense,
causing further stress among all our natural-spiritual natives.
Some,
like rattle snakes and scorpions,
seem quite riled up
about our Beacon on a Hill attitudes
toward them,
our originating hosts.
It is, after all,
one thing to become grateful immigrants,
and quite another to become entitled supremacists
and racists
and sexists
where patriarchs rule over,
and too often against,
our matriarchal lines of Earth's Original Instructions,
embryonic Golden Rule mentors
for native multiculturing thrival,
which survivalist "us-or-them" recent immigrants
to the White House, not to name names,
reduce to food chain narrow-minded nonthinking,
not noticing
Earth chains of nutrition are also lattices,
circling spirals of eco-immigration
journeying together dynamic cooperative systems
of mutually becoming.
Healthy nature networks
have exegetical advantage
seeing and feeling this lattice structured system
of each new species' generation
producing new immigrants from our wombs
and harvested,
although not necessarily planted,
health wealthing seeds.
New immigrant generations,
young ones,
may better know and sense
our mutually emergent immigrant status,
circling back toward Original Golden Rule Instructions,
to enfranchise all life
as liberally
inclusively
graciously
polyculturally
as mutual positive outcome possible
to better sing and dance
our proudly shared immigration histories;
co-celebrants interdependently polypathic
and polyphonic.
More than just a humble postscript,
this play of natures
across Earth's immigration stage proclaim:
If natural and spiritual reason supports democracy
as healthy,
and totalitarian WinLose ecopolitics as pathological,
for human natures emigrating toward health
including happiness
including prospects of co-operative wealthing outcomes,
then Earth's historical evolutionary grace
kindly invites us to recall
by reconstructing,
What is good for human nature
must remain good for all Earth natures,
animated becomings,
or our native host species
never would have given residency to us,
this last great transitional wave of vulnerable immigrants.
Just because these older waves of immigrants
can't talk our democratic talk
does not mean they don't walk
our health and pathology walk.
When in doubt about such radical co-franchisement
ask fading glaciers
and polar caps
how they are voting with their melts
while human natures continue
to stomp our immigrating feet,
hold our newborn breath,
until we hear more blue-green matriarchal,
turquoise regenerate cycling for some
who study emigrating bilateral spirals.
WinLose temperature elevating tantrums,
holding nature's collective breath captive,
waiting for rebirth of co-animating choices
as Earth's Tribes of EcoImmigrants
flowering spirals,
effective spells
inciting this one last great co-immigrant transition
into reborn matriarchal,
also cooperatively-owned partner patriarchal,
full-living color,
inviting each and all
to never fade out
to all Western NorthernWhite Capitalists
pursuing monocultural supremacy
of WinLose entropy,
empty dissonance,
white noise of Other Absence.
Squirrels and trees,
robins and rivers,
have chosen us to emigrate from past times
with them
toward our mutual co-enfranchisement.
So, no fair anti-ecologically disenfranchising them,
our native healthing
happy
prosperous democratic hosts.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2017
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High heeled leather pumps; the best will only do
In all different styles and colors; the most brilliant of hues
Gorgeous diamond jewelry; a temptation not to resist
Hone my very essence and surely enhance my wrists
Managing hair appointments; a color and highlight is a must
Angelic to the naked eye; beauty is what we lust
Imperfections not visible; expensive makeup applied to disguise
Neiman Marcus and Marshal Fields; fully stocked with vital supplies
Tanning bed awaits; a special bronzer first I must get
Enriched with vitamins and minerals; top shelf purchase let’s not forget
Nylons hosiery and lingerie; Victoria’s Secret now exposed
A variety of silk and satins; frilled with lacy garnished bows
New car smell in the air; a fast sporty convertible is what I seek
Candy apple red with adorning leather seats; all which I bespeak
Exhausting idea of being a perfect wife; beauty's the weakness on this path of life
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2007
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I saw my muse today
She rode by on someone else's rhyme
And I continue to squat at the roadside
Crashin' words together
Slammin' words together
Rubbin words ...
Trying to get a spark
Something to ignite the tinder
of inspiration
And I shiver with nothing
to pen
I saw my muse with
someone else
Good Luck, pal
If her high maintenance don't
part you two
Her fickleness
surely
will
Copyright © Nick Pierce | Year Posted 2015
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She flits around the office,
Our own damsel in distress.
Every day, her world is ending,
She's one big, emotional mess.
A mouse or spider, will send her screaming,
She'll demand the poor creatures head.
As she won't continue working
Until she sees that it is dead.
She has every man scour her office separately,
Making sure they check every nook and cranny.
While she sits there trembling in her office chair,
Cross legged on her fanny.
She refuses to carry anything,
The heaviest, a tiny watering can.
I'll say, "It barely weighs 10lbs"
Her response, "I'll go find a man"
I just don't understand it,
To be proud of being helpless,
And she never seems to tire of being,
A high maintenance damsel in distress.
Copyright © Erica Gould | Year Posted 2016
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Daddy's girl:
The jewel of his eye.His sweet potato pie
Daddy's girl:
The precious pearl of the sea. Daddy's
world revolves around his little girl you
see. She is cute and cuddly as can be,
wanting to show off for all to see.
Daddy's girl:
Get's all of the attention. She is spolied
rotten to the core. High maintenance is
an underscore.
Daddy's girl:
all grown up in a world.I wonder who
will she jack up to meet her basic
demand.Her boyfriend Ben laughs with
a grin when she puts her hand out.Gimmie
this .gimmie that,it's all about me. Oh what
reality she soon will face.
Daddy's girl:has always been in the front,
getting everything she wants. Telling her
"NO " would only be a blow to her mind ,
causing her brain to be in a blunder to
wonder,"can I always get what I want?"
Daddy's girl will learn a very hard lesson
that will test her accountability to succeed
on her own.
Daddy's girl is all grown up and her daddy's
pockets aren't as filled as they used to be
daddy's money is slow in coming
because daddy doesn't have it, you see.
Daddy's girl will have to get a job.
Copyright © Crystal Seals | Year Posted 2008
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Sponge socks, for walking on your eggshells quietly
whether they're robin's egg blue in the rain
speckled and peppered with bundles of pain
or whether they're white like innocence bleached
by the sun, on the beach in a driftwood dry nest
Poppy petals, for covering over your eyelids of tears
whether they're brimming for long lost romance
or promises pandered or fleeting of chance
sealing them up with a sensory stance
by the red, under velvet with sweet pollen dust
Creamed milk, for soaking your burning lips in
whether the sun dried their wishes in mist
caught up in the dew and dispersed in a kiss
or whether you burnt them by cease and desist
of the fire you riddled and rolled off your tongue.
Cupped hands, to cover your delicate ears in their hearing
whether you're straining and leaning for truth
or freezing your ear drums on bowls of dispute
or whether you hear only lies from your youth
by the gut of your slain self-esteem
All of these things make you quite the high maintenance
whether it's eggshells and glue in the wind
or petals in nitrogen tears on the mend
or souring cream or my palm's condescend
while I tire and endlessly string back your hair
with a sorrow declining a healing.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
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Sometimes it's nice to be me
all of the glitz and the glamour
and the money in the bank
but sometimes it sucks to be me
Lonley when i'm not
the girl who constantly contradicts herself
and whom sometimes doesn't know
which way is up or down
her life spins in circles
and all she wants is for it to slow down
when nobody is around
she engulfs herself in books
the sheik beauty hides out at this point
the girl everyone forgot about returns
not the high maintenance queen
or the girl desperately trying to mask
all of her insecurities
No the girl that comes back
In a room full of quiet
is the one most closest to who I used to be
The one I most closely resent yet admire
it's strange how I can dig her up
after she's been in her grave for years
she's my worst enemy, yet my best friend
and I sometimes feel Stuck in this new form of mines
Stuck in this image that stabbed her twin
She let the girl she used to be fade and die
and the girl she is now doesn't even satisfy
I wonder why?
Copyright © Shahana Jackson | Year Posted 2007
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High Maintenance Poem
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She's the finest one I have ever seen
She requires a bath, but can't handle the Afro Sheen
She is high maintenance, which I don't mind
She receives complements from time to time
There is something special about her, I just can't explain
It always excites me when I'm inside Jane
She is long and sexy, a real lady to me
And everyone that meets her does agree
No other can compare
With all my friends she is shared
She was expensive, I paid an outrageous price
She's my pie, but I don't mind you having a slice
I own her, she is my property
She has demonstrated unswerving loyalty
I think I will change her name to Candy Cane
I control the heat inside Jane
She is getting up there in age, I may soon have to replace her
The next lady I buy, I will call her Jennifer
After my use of her last time I discovered a stain
Came from a dog that wasn't properly trained
I apologized to her and asked her not to be mad
She has been the most loyal one I have ever had
She is more than eager to entertain
What? Cut the dirty thoughts, she's my private plane
Copyright © Eugene Carmen | Year Posted 2008
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High Maintenance Poem
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I once worked with a youth who had gingivitis
Twenty years younger yet she already had arthritis
Pretty enough in spite of her dermatitis
She so craved attention we all thought caused by meningitis
Winters seemed worse with time off due to bronchitis
Bouts in hospital for appendicitis and diverticulitis
Regularly like clockwork she came down with severe vacationitis
After each self-prescribed vacation she’d strangely suffer from moneyitis
She talked our ears off we kept hoping she’d get laryngitis
But no, it was only bursitis and colitis followed by gastritis
Ms. Black sure was high maintenance with her neurosis and neuritis
Submitted in March, 2018
Copyright © Line Gauthier | Year Posted 2018
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High Maintenance Poem
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Friday night frenzy,
are you ready to play?
time to drown the old worries away,
with good old grey mother goose.
Walk down the stairs in your high-heeled high-maintenance ways
Clink Clank
cLiNk ClAnK.
Don’t trip!
You might chip a nail and
expose what your cosmetics are trying to conceal.
As if the depth of you makeup is actually equivalent to the depth of your soul.
Friday night frenzy,
lets have a blast!
black-outs can happen,
but the hang over will last.
friday nights fizzle, sizzle and pass.
Saturday morning delirium is a blindfolded shot glass
Copyright © Sarah Kopp | Year Posted 2017
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High Maintenance Poem
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My car broke down today. Sob. Sob.
Poor me.
Some who do not know her, give sympathy.
I do not comment, choosing to walk away.
Cold hearted, me.
Could you loan me lunch money? My purse was in my car.
Three people fight over who is giving her the money.
I am not one of them.
She owes me $18.38 cents already.
The next day, her child has broken her arm.
The three are taking up a little collection for the doctor’s fee.
This child is four, and she has already broken her arm three times?
I do not have any money when they come to collect.
No one else who has worked with her for over a month had any money either.
They think we are cold-hearted. And we are. We have learned to be.
High drama. High maintenance. Highly motivated to ask for sympathy, and hint for money or ask right out for it.
Run, you three, run!
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018