Best Misplaced Poems
I’m feral like a fox
misplaced in the
maroon mists
of wilderness,
only found in
woeful woodland.
My skin is blanketed
in crimson balmy
hyacinth feathers
from a
forsaken rainforest.
Misguided on
delusional paths,
where spring-tides
mirror liquified colors
of warm diamond tears
I’ve suppressed
behind ice blue sighs.
And I’ve seen
splintered petals
beneath thick-leaved
jewel orchids,
that surrendered
to greying leaves
on tainted twigs
and broken branches.
I’ve walked through
fields of thorns
where the
musky scent
of roses remained
a poison to
my aching soul.
So, why does it
feel like I’m chained
from vines of changes,
that suffocate
the sun within me,
crucifying the fragility
of premature
begonia beginnings?
Am I to follow
the darkness,
to cast away the evil,
constantly pushing me
into a cave of
cacophonous silence?
As I see beyond
the gossamer veil,
hiding sharpened talons
of treacherous eagles-
flying amongst
vicious vampires;
emerald foes
masked as friends,
feeding my conscience
with cruel concoctions,
oblivious to the truth,
that I am a bark believer
of marigold miracles.
So let the
steel black breeze
and the
faceless ghosts
of fleeting time,
witness how I
rise against
wicked wolves
lurking behind
stars within
a chiffon laced
canopy of nightfalls.
For, I am more
than the empty labels
you’ve placed,
like the shame,
I’ve buried beneath
lyrical lies drizzling
from vanilla skies.
Why do you show me
such treasure,
only to deprive me.
When you are gone,
smoke fills the air,
I'm misplaced in
the mist of misery,
w a n d e r i n g
helplessly lost,
masking melancholic
emotions.
Parasite winds
bring little respite.
If only they would
whisper my
mute messages,
blowing tepidly
into your heart -
then maybe you
would gift me one
more glimpse.
Then like the
majestic sun would
you re-appear?
Embracing me with
passion and desire,
so my heart smiles
like the crescent moon,
till darkness comes,
veiling your light
and then
you disappear (again),
leaving me
misplaced in
the mist of misery.
There are times when an object misplaced
Is the most pressing problem you've faced
For you search and you search
But get left in the lurch,
All that time you spent searching a waste.
If you're lucky, you'll find what's been lost
After each pile of stuff had been tossed
Yet it's possible that
You won't find where it's at
With frustration and sadness the cost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At half past five, when the streetlights blinked on,
Mrs. Henderson patted her pockets—then frowned.
Her favorite scarf, the wool one with ducks,
had vanished between the bus stop and Dunk's.
She retraced her steps past the slurping snowbanks,
peered into gutters half-clogged with ice,
even asked the displeased parking meter attendant,
who shrugged and resumed his existential crisis.
Meanwhile, two blocks down, a very large crow
tugged at something blue in the branches of a spruce.
A jogger slowed, squinted upward, and called,
Hey! That’s not yours!—but the crow was no gracious goose.
It cackled, triumphant, and launched into flight,
scarf trailing like some bizarre kite tail.
Mrs. Henderson, rounding the corner, gasped,
then burst out laughing—what else to do?
The crow dropped it (finally!) near the old diner,
where it landed, quite softly, on a snowman’s neck.
The snowman, indifferent, stared straight ahead.
Mrs. Henderson sighed, tucked it in, stepped back.
Keep it, she murmured. You’ll need it more.
And the scarf stayed put—at least till the thaw.
When you force Mr. Zelinsky
to feed the Putineers who’ve bulldozed Ukraine.
That’s when I’ll pressure Israel
to give Hamas’ Gazastanis more grain
Retrace your steps - look back - perhaps
what you thought gone was just misplaced.
Re-read the signs, review the maps,
retrace your steps. Look back, perhaps.
You may find something in the scraps
of loss you formerly embraced.
Retrace your steps, look back. Perhaps
what you thought gone was just misplaced.
Into the street the dog ran on
Heedless of the warning calls
Running through the silent morn
The dog failed to hear the horn
As he chased his favorite ball
He took his final breath that dawn
A sight of horror the boy could not
Stand to watch it through the end
The dog he knew failed in his goal
The ball now resting by a pole
Away away around the bend
The car drove on and did not stop
The boy was left alone to ponder
Why the dog would take the chance
And heed no warning nor a call
For he was loyal to his ball
But now he's off with death to dance
And leave us all alone to wonder
Oh, those darned things are
Never there when I need them!
Always somewhere else.
Usually left idle
In that moment I forget.
MISPLACED
Life dumped her in a city
Emptied free of friendly faces
Architecture daunting skyward
but lacked the lines of grace
As she wandered thru the side streets
A feather in the pulsing crowds
The isolation grabbed her
And spun her head around
She sensed she should be elsewhere
Exactly where-- she didn't know
when a beam of sun burst into song
with a sea breeze-- sweet and low
Above her head there perched a songbird
Gray as the city's smile
His eyes blazed into hers
Opaque with city guile.
He nodded toward the North
Took flight without a sound
In a flicker of a moment
She was seaward bound.
V Anderson-Throop 2013
I become quite vain when around pretty girls.
And a whole flock of them makes my head whirl.
Attempting sensitivity,
I asked one, "Do you have a disease?"
She said, "I was fine a moment ago, but NOW I wanna hurl!"
NOTE: This was based off a true story (though I exaggerated it slightly, for the sake of having it rhyme and fit with the limerick). I came into work one day and noticed one of my co-workers didn't look so hot. I was concerned and said, "Are you feeling alright today? Did you sleep well?". She just looked at me and said, "I'm quite fine, Timmy. I've actually had a full nine hours sleep... I just didn't take the time to put my make-up on this morning". Needless to say I never quite heard the end of it...
She wonders if this is her final day
and ponders why things turned out this way
she doesn't know to whom to pray
has misplaced the right words to say.
Forever reliving, rehashing the past
(how much longer can her sanity last?)
she sees the shadow that Time has cast
the end she desires can't come too fast.
And again I looked, I scattered my sight there and here, thoughts just posing in my head “why” people just standing against me, pure innocence of mine just scrambles me,
And breaks me, “what did I do?’ I ask again and again,
With no answer, people’s laughter, Laughs, without me, leaving me in the open, cutting my soft delicate tanned skin,
People enjoying themselves, people that shattered me, those laughs like arrows dipped in venom pointed at my weak spot; my Heart
I ignore them will all my senses, with all my might, shut the door lock and cry
Those tears that nourished my soul and blurred my vision,
My vision so watery and indistinct. I squeeze shut my eyes, locking the doors to the soul, the tears just escape from my portal-like senses, I open them again, wipe off the tears harshly with my palm.
The door opens; it’s my sister, my beautiful- little sister,
She came, to hug me, to console my killing solitude, with a kiss, so blissful, so radiant; it lit the worlds above me
A hug, so deep, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough to shed the tears, but it bought the price of a smile on my lips, a ticket to the manner of serenity.
At first glance I thought
It was a toy, a ragged thing,
perhaps dropped by a small boy.
Lost or abandoned?
Either way
it was being trampled on today
The pavement pushers,
marching through the high street
with shopping on their minds,
they didn’t see it,
Flat and grey,
matching this abysmal rainy day
Against the grain I knelt
To rescue this sodden and
forlorn, forgotten friend.
Its edges revealed,
I knew then
It was not the frippery I had thought
Lurching back, retching,
I tumbled through legs, bags,
Away from the abhorrence.
I didn’t grieve it
that dead rat
I just left it there, all grey and flat.
I've invested too much time
Into people I thought were genuine
It's baffling
How many people you know
You think have your back
But actually don't
When you need me there
I show up
When I need you
It's you know I would but
I've come to learn
I ain't the only thing desyroying me
The other part of it is misplaced loyalty
It's crazy to me
How you could treat people like royalty
But when I'm in a hole
They can't even throw a rope to me
That's some bull and bull is bull
Even if it smells like potpourri
Some people just don't care
They'll throw you under the bus
After you give them their bus fare
I'm good enough to help you out
When no one would
But when I need you to vouch for me
It's a shoulder shrug
locating my frolic
lost somewhere along the way
discarded among my happy-go-lucky
brazen swagger
with teeth gritted for effect
dealing with the dust and dream
looking for my sizzle to find
used to fit snug, like a
a patented soft leather glove
been told I look lustful
in my leathers
ahhh . . .
found my misplaced frolic
to wear with pride
feels so good
I allow it to be unbuttoned
exposing my glad