Best Junkyard Poems

Bygone youth carelessly spent
Damaged goods years of torment
Guiltless heart cruelly scarred
Abandoned in junkyard charred

Spent days wasted nights crying
Torment focused on dying
Scarred and marred deep to the bone
Charred wishes on a moonstone



Submitted on March 9, 2019 to contest JUEJU-QUIJUE WITH A TWIST sponsored by CHARLES MESSINA...

Continue reading...

through lean years
in this thing called life
i’ve tended to my garden
erected walls with what i could
made a shelter called it mine

i filled each corner
in convoluted ways
with memories and fantasies
along the way weeds got the best of me

my garden looks more like a junkyard
a roadmap of...

Continue reading...

On one sultry August day
In a clearing in the woods
Within a long delay
for salvaged auto goods
Amid decaying vans, under glaring sun
High above one ant, homebound, on the run...
   Along a rugged trail
   of micro hill and dale
   Between pebbles...

Continue reading...

A collaboration with Kim van Breda - honored Kim

I've tossed some dreams
       into corners
where they sit rusting -
dissected spare thoughts
for a restomod old body
smartly attired with
polished imperfections

swum life's streams
through currents
undulating promises
the color of sandstone
desert miles, turreted
rhododendrons, watered
slips off the...

Continue reading...

the end is not so close
but I'm still drowning
in all ponds of Mars
guilty and filthy
and walk down the alley 
of sombre solstice
swearing at walls
after the heist gone wrong

now the everlasting 
ambulance siren
echoes through 
the tumbledown lands
through sullen skies
through every selfish mind

dancing at the balcony
without a...

Continue reading...

In the junkyard of life
What do you see?
What do your eyes focus on?
Do you see the rusted forgotten?
Do you feel the presence of greatness?
Or all you recognize is the trash and weeds blowing about the ground
In life there are many relics
Glimpses of the past; present...

Continue reading...

Hey!!!
Let me tell you about a place that exists,
you might find this hard to believe!
If your heart has ever been in a "love wreck"
it is towed here indefinitely!

The shock of it all, 
to tell you the truth
is it really tore me apart-
to find out that...

Continue reading...

Picture a junkyard in your mind
a weed infested field covered with rusting hulls
that once were dear
to someone
some met with violent ends
wrecked in the prime of their lives
others were simply cast aside
no longer needed
or wanted
superimpose a homeless shelter
over the scene of the junkyard
how strange
they overlap and...

Continue reading...

My Favorite Junkyard was owned by Fred G. Sanford
The G stood for Good Times
He was full of surprise with humorous delight
As a kid I would visit his junkyard every night
If he wasn’t filling me with laughter, he was filling me with cheer
Oh, how I wish...

Continue reading...

Stained yellow teeth, decades of mistreatments;
Tattered worn hair, mustered stare...
Worn torn shoes just vagabond, dementia rusted mind;
Seems he's been here before, open spaces relics;

My yard is filled with junk; What's up--
Rusted rattled metal, such a waste dried up sores, rusted;
Out of date ragged clothes, ON...

Continue reading...

Rusty old sins burden my soul
Sending me broken parts, 
Pieces of my most sinful thoughts
Lies, betrayals, grudges and hatred

So many moments of livid rage
Gripping the words of anger that
Passed my lips and colored another’s
Heart with wrath so furious it slashes

There are desperations that grip me
Confine...

Continue reading...

I'm just a junkyard dog.
Old scars tell my story.
I'm left water and scraps.
Alone in the dark I sleep
and dream of a better life
and love with es
I smell beyond fences.
Love is just out of reach....

Continue reading...

The mobile mind indomitable
the rider of life waves
with curled crests of fractured moonbeam
and dark agony troughs of drowned stars
spread breaking on the shore of the past.

The crushed sands carve seaward footprints
the weathering antique contours of decay
time arrow points to topography beyond the shore
away from the...

Continue reading...

I throw it out then bring it back
A somewhat hoarder, I have that knack
I keep in mind the things I love
Then store them back within my hub
A sound of music a touch of scent
Allows nostalgia a place to vent
A memory made or thought perhaps lost
A...

Continue reading...

Grammie’s Basement

A quiet place of rest covered with the dust of decades
Where wicker chairs of discarded summer days
Sit with tangled strings of Christmas lights on their laps
Alongside ornaments of glass so thin a whisper shatters shining globes;
Bowler hats and boxes of stray buttons among the...

Continue reading...