Best No Kids Poems
A grove of magnolias perfumes the air
as they sit absorbed in one another's gaze,
she with her crochet and he with his collectibles
uneasy in their pleasure in the evening of their years.
Lawyers control their affairs like vultures slavering
their prey, waiting to swoop when the timing is right,
for what use is their wealth to them now? No kids,
no convenient callers making spurious claims,
the power of attorney running everything,
in their own best interests, of course.
Summer Haven was the name of their new residence,
with their final resting place conveniently pre-selected.
But they still could make suggestions, could they not?
not really incompetent, simply eccentric and odd;
eating their meals out of red plastic bowls
and taking their medicines eight times a day,
convenient, and all for their own good no doubt,
but day after day of this treatment can deflate the soul.
One blissful moonlit night they'd had enough.
They packaged their drugs into secure containers
and shredded their records so as to break free.
They stole cartons of candy and five jugs of Ensure
and headed straight out the unguarded back door,
jump-started the motor-bike out by the tool shed
and roared off on a quest for their own
sweet convenience!
We loved the lollipops, cracker jacks, and Holloway candy sticks. We adored the chocolate-coated ice cream bars and the tootsie rolls.
We could not get enough of pop sickles, cool aids, and soda pops.
We sang a love song saying, “Ice cream, soda water, cream on top, tell me the name of your sweetheart”. We had the best-tasting cookies and cigarette candies that eyes had ever seen. We were just poor kids in America’s poorest state, but no kids were sweeter than us. Hot as fire, hassled and harassed by humidity and drops of sweat; but we were sweet, not from
our good-natured personalities but from the sweets that we ate.
Life was hard in my little Mississippi Delta town; But somewhere between hard work and chores; between feeding the chickens and the cows; between feeding the goats and the hogs; between watching TV and doing homework;
between the sun ups and the Sundowns; and between the dawn and the dust;
Yes, in between, we found time to play. Most times we were okay, didn’t go astray, and had lots of fun in the barns, playing in the hay.
We rolled rubber tires like we were driving fast cars; laughed out loud as we sucked whining balls. Money was always lacking, but we did our share of licking, chewing, and sucking the sweet stuff. We bought a lot for the few pennies, nickels, and dimes that we had. We could buy our treats cheaply back then. So, we did our best to stay sweet, chewing bubble gum filled with sugar. We didn’t have a care and learned how to share, and the sweet stuff was always there. 013008PSContest, Childlike Fun, Caren Krutsinger, 2P
‘Twas the night before Christmas,
and once in my bed,
no visions of anything
danced in my head.
The night – uneventful -
no kids bothered me.
No sound of small feet
rushing out to the tree!
My husband lay snoring
at least until ten.
I put on some TV
just waiting for when
my daughter, her spouse,
and their kids (older now)
would show up for dinner -
the meat from a cow!
No turkey, no ham.
I much prefer beef.
My son-in-law’s vegan.
I’d feed him a leaf.
There’s not much unwrapping
of gifts any more.
It’s more likely gift cards
that teens all adore.
Gift cards for movies
or things at some store
and inside of envelops,
money galore.
Gone are the days
of wrapping all night
toys for the kiddies,
and I guess that’s all right.
It sure took forever
to have to exert
energy wrapping. . .
it made my back hurt!
But in a few years,
wee girls and wee boys
(great-grand-kids) I’ll see
ripping wrapping off toys!
Dec. 2, 2019 for Joseph May's the 'The Night Before 2' Poetry Contest
What if God removed all women from the earth
And no one left for man to love or give birth
Or worse. mans cursed,
To wander alone in the universe
To cook and clean and shop all alone
And celebrate special occasions on his own
Or there were no more little dresses to by
for that little apple of his eye
Pictures absent of pretty smiles
No one to sit with and chat awhile
No more candlelight dinners for two
No soft skin laying next to you
Man would build dream houses for empty dreams,
No kids no toys no rooms to clean
A gift taken for granted its flower will shed
And selfish love will wind up dead
So treasure your flower and watch your garden grow
And shower your love so she keeps her glow
#MyLifeMatters
My hands are up don't shoot!!
I'm a black man, with feelings and a valued life,
Please, I've done nothing wrong, point the gun the other way.
At my home, it holds the love of my valued wife,
There's no kids, but we talk of having children one day.
Is my tail light busted, was I speeding too fast?
If so I apologize, may not have been paying attention.
So what made you suspicious sir of me through the dash?
Tell me now, in the future I can maybe prevent it.
Don't want to be a statistic, I will soon be forgotten
After my brief CNN mention of me being shot.
Of me being SHOT, dash cam flashing non stop when
The masses see another man dead by the hands of a cop.
My hands are up DON'T SHOOT I didn't kill 9 members
Of a church, I don't even have a weapon to cause hurt.
My hands are up DON'T SHOOT I'm 3 credits away from my degree
Check my I.D. no history of batteries or felonies.
At my home, it holds the love of my valued wife,
There's no kids, but we talk of having children one day.
#MyLifeMatters
Written on 12/7/2015 @ 6:10am EST
Oh beautiful birth control, how wonderful you play,
You bring so much joy to my life.
You’re like my religion, I can embrace everyone,
Especially my neighbour’s blonde wife.
Every morning after, I fall, fall from grace off my bed,
Fall right onto my knees and pray.
I pray to you, my birth control friend,
No kids spawned from me, not from this castaway.
Oh my beautiful birth control, I love you so much,
I love how you conquer from her trench.
Now, I need to prepare for tonight’s sexy battle,
I need to clean, and remake, my nightly workbench.
Downward marriage falls seeking some relief
Children follow awkwardly, senses moan
Husband and wife acting out of belief
Three children entering chambers unknown
Locked in battle, the wife reaches for sword
Under advice, she unleashes all hells
Falsely accusing the husband deplored
Of abuse, harm, and hate to citadels
With one stroke of the pen, I was condemned
Guilty 'til proven otherwise I was
Cast out, no home, no gold, no kids, clemmed.
Without, alone, despaired, scorned, for no cause
Time to think, time to ponder, time to pray
My children became my crusade, that day
09/21/17
'Taking a disappointment in your life turning it into something positive'
Form: Sonnet
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri
Paradise In A Dream
There is so much weighing me down
The daily toils of doing what others want
Screaming kids fighting all day long
Another four hours of Dora The Explorer
Trying to cook dinner with nothing in the cupboards
Every member of the family wanting something different
Hot dogs for the youngest
Mac and cheese for the little girl who won’t eat anything
Cheese steak sandwiches for the adults
There is a fashion show on the TV for my wife
The basketball playoffs can wait for another day
I haven’t seen a Celtics game in more than ten years
A fuse blows in the middle on the evening
Those basement stairs were not meant for a man my size
Finally the time has come for a peaceful sleep
Until my daughter finds a monster under her bad
Screaming and crying while I scare the monster away
I close my eyes as the moon rises
The witching hour when the dead rises
My dreams take me away to a paradise
The tropical sun tans my half naked body
Naked women chase each other on empty beaches
No kids, no wife and no fashion shows
Too bad morning and another day has to come
Too bad that I love my wife and kids
Otherwise I just might stay asleep
A grove of magnolias perfumed the air
as they sat absorbed in one another's gaze,
she with her crochet and he with his collectibles
uneasy in their pleasure in the evening of their years.
Lawyers controlled their affairs like vultures slavering
their prey, waiting to swoop when the timing is right,
for what use is their wealth to them now? No kids,
no convenient callers making spurious claims,
the power of attorney running everything,
in their own best interests, of course.
Sunset Grove was the name of their new residence,
with their final resting place conveniently pre-selected.
But they still could make suggestions, could they not?
not really incompetent, simply eccentric and odd;
eating their meals out of red plastic bowls
and taking their medicines eight times a day,
convenient, and all for their own good no doubt,
but day after day of this treatment can deflate the soul.
One blissful moonlit night they'd had enough.
They packaged their drugs into secure containers
and shredded their records so as to break free.
They stole cartons of candy and five jugs of Ensure
and headed straight out the unguarded back door,
jump-started the motor-bike out by the tool shed
and roared off on a quest for their own sweet convenience!
Just another caterpillar afternoon,
inching along lazily;
Skin feeling how faint the prairie wind blow,
time no longer telling you
how slow the summer grass grow
So you take another sip of blackberry boredom Bordeaux,
as the sun and your insides warm you
Pear-shaped tears now fully ripe,
puts you in the mood for some mellow regret ...
Got no kids,
got no wife
So you just take another sip
from a nearly empty bottle life
You spilt a lot of your fine good wine long ago;
wasted a lot of your youthful years
running in and out of bars, jails and bordellos
All of your acquaintances are people you barely know,
and your most fond, intimate memories
comes from a radio
So you go give yourself one last toast
from that almost empty bottle ...
Now you’re about ready to close your eyes,
and dream of another lazy, morning sunrise
Sadly, you got nobody around to give cheers
to your empty bottle life
This poem was inspired from a poem titled "Only A Game"
by the talented poet, Phil Capitano
What is the shore without the sea
Aimlessly wondering watery dreams
Deferred desolate depressed empty
Is how I am without love in me
That one true love for which one is blind
Without it there is darkness blackest of times
Is like a blue bird without a heart song
No white wind of romance to carry it on
Without love there is nothing to fight for
No reason to desire life would be a bore
Amethyst art would starve forever more
No apple of the eye to amber adore
Without love music would be dead
The humming of machinery could be heard instead
Humanity would die off no kids born
Feelings would be liability and scorned
Without love I am an empty cocoa shell
With no inspiration no wishing well
No dedication or passion that bleeds
That is what lack of love does to me
STILL NOT DEAD ( no kids allowed 2 read)
This morning I took my med.
taking more than my dose.
I am still here thrown in bed,
Lifeless and nobody knows.
I am still alive I am still not dead
I don't think I succeeded my overdose.
Should have cut my vain instead,
or stuck a whole ounce my nose.
To scared to put a gun to my head,
that would have been very gross.
Couldn't even stand it if I bled,
Stupid, me now I find a hose down my nose.
Still not dead,
Regret the day you propose.
The day I said "I DO" I dread
The feelings that came, I let nobody know.
Thinking of ways of dying instead,
holding my breath is all I show.
All this started on the day of our wed,
imagination took over making my mind blow.
Finding my self here still not dead,
Who said suicide is easier than a DIVORCE !!
i.t.
S.K.A.T. POETRY
=( Not a fact, just humor over my marriage! )=
Girls want that perfect man to marry and love.
A perfect husband sent from up above.
Some girls eventually want that, but need something more.
They desire that love they never got before.
A bond with a man that they should have had;
A special guy they could refer to as a Dad.
A relationship that is as innocent as a dove.
A connection that is a different kind of love.
Love is not just for a husband and wife;
For there are people who are special in our life.
People connect in life and fit perfect like a glove.
They are grateful for each other and create a different kind of love.
We love family, friends, the world and its twirl.
So why because of gender can’t a guy love a girl?
The different kind of love between two friends
The girl sees him as a Dad through her lens.
To her he is a father figure, role model in her sight,
But because she is an adult, it’s just not right.
People talk and think the worse.
Now she is burdened with this curse.
They don’t know her story, or her life.
So why do people talk and cause her strife?
Her father ignored her and made her feel unwanted.
She would cry every night and her mind would be haunted.
A relationship with her Dad was something she never knew.
Now a guy shows up and it’s a dream come true.
No kids of his own, he has never flaunted.
Tells the girl, “You are the daughter I never had but always wanted.”
Now happiness is in secret as she plays the game;
Hoping one day her “Dad” she can claim.
So before you start talking bad about your observation,
Think before you speak because you don’t know the situation.
In the green Adirondack foothills lies
the haven of our old summer camp,
once a place of adventure and outdoor joy,
and the loud cries of precocious scamps,
their energy you never could tamp,
scurrying ’round on small, rapid feet,
leaping into the pond without a beat.
I remember coming here myself,
gazing up at the grand totem pole,
the mess hall with fieldstone fireplace,
where countless tall-tales were told,
and lordy, was the pond bitter cold!
There was a trading post for candy, snacks,
and toilets which all amenities lacked…
To scampering kids it felt like we were
far off in a rugged wilderness,
that tall white pines just rolled on
in a vast and uncharted forest,
and we were just the ones to explore it!
The only sign of steel on our trails
was a pair of rusted, forgotten trial rails.
Then I came back here as an adult
and found the revelry was long passed,
the town had bought up all the old camp,
no kids raced swiftly ’cross the grass,
it had been too good of a place to last,
folks blamed it on poor demographics,
cell phones, and parents afraid of risk.
I suppose I should be thanking the town,
because the made the space into a park,
at the very least it will be preserved,
even though it’s missing that old spark,
and youngsters sprinting ’round on a lark,
they’re even cleared out some new ground…
by tearing half the rustic buildings down.
The trading post, now a picnic pavilion,
the staff cabins now an empty field,
the docks pulled up and carted away,
the pond belongs now to minnows and eels,
not entirely sure how I feel,
out there we swam and swamped canoes,
now it’s blocked off from public use.
The mess hall, at least, is still standing,
they say it’s becoming a historic sight,
but to see it still present, all alone,
somehow just doesn’t feel all that right,
with its clap-board fading in bright sunlight,
at least the boat-house still rises near,
though it’s probably collapse within the year.
I turned away in a very glum mood,
made my way to my car rather slow,
thinking of all I had done here
that my children are never going to know,
there are few places like this left to go.
it brings a well-known though to my mind:
Damn you, damn you, damn you time!
My Emma I remember so well - an old lady with roses on her cheeks
Lived in a cozy little white house with a garden so beautiful - flowers, berries and fruit
Emma was old with a bad back and her feet were weak - but she was never grumpy
The winter was hard for old Emma - lonely - no husband - no kids - no family
When spring came - Emma came out to the garden - she loved it
When neighbors or children came by - she waved and shouted
"Come into my garden and pick yourself a big bouquet of flowers"
When summer came - she waved and shouted
"Come into my garden and pick yourself some berries - they are red and nice"
In the autumn the same - "Come into my garden and pick yourself some fruit"
* Emma died many years ago - but the memories I have cherished in my heart
- * From reality :)
09.02.2014
A-L Andresen :)