Best Padding Poems
Who was that masked man?!?
Brian Williams, rides again.
He was in Amilia Earhart's plane;
even rode with the Dalton Gang.
The day the Titanic went down;
In the rescue boat when Rose was found.
He went on expeditions with Louis and Clark.
Once gave his seat to Rosa Parks.
He was actually the first man in space.
That shadow on the moon........ It's his face!
The earliest woman, they deemed to be
bones in the desert they named Lucy.
She was his niece, tho she drug her knuckles,
so he really is a monkey's uncle!
He walked miles and miles on the Trail of Tears;
wondered the desert with Hebrews for forty years.
He dated Cleopatra; drank wine with Moses;
gave the Queen of Sheba a camel and roses.
He's walked with Bigfoot in the hills;
been bitten by vampires, but magically heals.
He has had great adventures of every kind.
He's Brian Williams; a legend in his own mind.
Maybe I can be one of those news cast stars.
This is Arlene, reporting from mars........
Couldn't resist this little tribute to the wild stories of reporter Brian Williams who was fired for seemingly padding up his stories....
Categories:
padding, silly, slam, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
~
Winter breathes in sepia tones along a lonely two lane street
divided amongst the sweeping frozen dunes
now forced into shouldered amnesty
Street lights shiver in snowcapped bonnets
while sidewalks sleep ‘neath blankets of flittering flakes
The air, frigidly crisp…moves of tiny chiffon sparkles dancing
Rooftops, plump and soft, show off their frosted padding
as evergreens find alabaster fingers tickling their branches
in chilled teasings and frozen dustings
Footprints, once there are gone, covered and recovered again
all evidence of life is erased beneath pearl clouded skies
and faint outlines of distant thoughts
White on black stripes drape in glacial wanderings
spanning the slush of asphalt weavings
in straight line piercings across the wintry landscape
January reigns brutal, subzero ponderings swirl
from high above the icebox wasteland, once brimming with color
now opaque in its arctic seasoned disguise…
~
Written from memory…no winter here. : )
Categories:
padding, good night,
Form:
Free verse
* Written for my daughter, who really does have a precious pair of Little Yellow Socks.
Little Yellow Socks
by Amy Swanson 12/5/2008
Little yellow socks
running down the hall
"Slow down with those socks on,"
I'd yell... too late, the fall!
Little yellow socks
padding softly late at night
climbing up into my lap
one more hug, out goes the light.
Little yellow socks
follow me with squeals of laughter;
Oh how she loves to run in them,
Begging me to come chase after!
Little yellow socks...
now not being worn a lot.
My little girl is growing up,
No longer just a tot.
Little yellow socks
will be cast aside someday
I must guard these precious moments;
in my heart, they'll safely stay.
Categories:
padding, childhood, daughter, devotion, family,
Form:
Rhyme
Cockle shell candles and firefly lights
padding the path to the woods
Grass crunched and scattered in weeds and in patterns
of the way every garden should look
Cobblestone herb baths and sleepy old stars
shooting the breeze in the dark
Waiting for someone to wish and discover
the cobblestone path in their heart
Night time is patient and fragile and ancient
with secrets just bursting to share
Turn up the jasmine and glow in the shadows
with eyes open wide to the moon
Luxuries lunar light swinging old stars
parading their final hurrah
Flittering fireflies brush up on moves as they
follow the trails of the heart
Pumpkin shaped lanterns delight the warm eye
orange and gold muted voice
Hanging from tree limbs bent down to oblige
and also to be understood
Fly on with sonar and pipe cleaner wings
soaring above all the lights
Lit up like secrets, hovering, weaving
simplicity's gifts of the night...
Categories:
padding, happiness, imagination, life, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
The allure of mused poems,
No longer visits this nonchalant psyche.
It trickles now, once a roaring torrent
Now a lazy stream
Am like a desultory jaded heaven
Where starry jewels once decked the night,
But are now drossy shadowy blackholes,
And sparks and dreams,
Are ripped in the accretion disc.
No longer avid, but seeking meaning in the mundane.
No longer enraptured by the she said, he said,
And all that jazz, no iota of care; for trifling muses,
Their short goodbyes or critique, no not one,
Their infighting and bad blood, no longer,
No nuts to crack, nor rain to flush, no iota of care.
It was never about who is better,
Neither has it been nor will it ever be,
About any Magnum Opus.
Like doors closing and skies descending,
Each visiting muse devoid of ardor,
Oblivious to the yawning dawn,
Or the scent of sprouting posies.
Jaded, without allure or sheen
And devoid of all its lustre.
Maybe one day soon a spark will reignite
And reanimate this frenetic mused madness
But until then...
I remain adrift in this sea of trivialities,
Worrying about trifling stuff
Like ad blockers and AI opinions
And irked...
By their emasculating knowledge
Poem Of The Week(POTW) -9/15/2024 To 9/21/2024
Categories:
padding, muse, poetry, poets,
Form:
Free verse
My body tenses.
The soft padding of footy pajamas
approach
tiny fingers grip my eyelid
lift it....
Bright eyes gaze into
the freshly opened eye.
A voice shouts....DA!!!
The other eye opens.
Yes I'm in here.
......And he knows it.
His PJ's had that
"potato in a pocket" hang.
I close my eyes...
reopen them...
he's still there...
he shouts again....DA!
Milk dribbles from his chin
as he struggles
to master the spoon
Cheerios dot his forehead
as he throttles a banana.
The "eye" sips coffee
tries not to laugh.
The dog laps up
his portion of sharing.
It was a good morning.. until
he pried my eye open
then....it became
.......A GREAT MORNING
John G. Lawless
2/15/2021
Categories:
padding, dad, fun, kid,
Form:
Free verse
Christmas was always your favorite time of year, we’d had such fun especially when you dressed up as Santa to entertain the local children. With your white beard and rounded tummy you certainly looked the part, we’d joke that you didn’t need any extra padding! Unfortunately cancer took its toll until you were a shadow of your former self. We knew in our heart of hearts that you probably wouldn’t see another Christmas. On December 1st I helped you put on your Santa suit, it hung off your frail frame but you were insistent that we decorated the tree together. It took every ounce of strength you had, but you were determined to place the angel on the top of the tree ... later that evening you closed your eyes for the final time.
treasured memories
you dressed in your Santa suit
snowflakes gently fall
December or January Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
19/10/19
Categories:
padding, cancer, christmas, i miss
Form:
Haibun
Blue sky , Summer sun
Soft moist air , fresh from meadows fair
Towering black clouds, gathering in crowds
Sheets of grey , torrential rains
Soft padding feet , water flooding the streets
Water, Earth and sky , a natural high
Summertime sun , summertime fun
Categories:
padding, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
My heavy heart ever sighs for you
A syrupy silent smile, awaiting every move
Eyes nomadic, setting like a sunset on the edge of mars
Gazing… as if to focus on the rarest star
There is a sweetness that I crave to taste
A wild, foreign but trusting terrain
Feverish fingertips padding gently on rippling arms
Stroking the soft ancient bark of driving charms
Cape Horn’s stormy seas await our return
Crash your mind on my lands so lost, so burned
As flames lick my tear-blemished blood
The hot winds of fervor rattle my bones to mud
Keep your eyes set on the edge of the red dunes
Of which the mighty tempest runs free from doom
Into the lungs of pending exhalation,
You rest ever upon my endearing obsession
Categories:
padding, deep, heart, journey, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Seeing that deep rooted tree
founded in soils rich and boldly painful
Lay praise to worthy and spite to shameful
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Old souls spiral in his words like scrolls unfurling over cliffs
ancestors hardships ingrained in phrasing
Reminding, remembering, rejoicing...rebuking
That which you might not say
sprays from every line
Never just in saying his piece
but asking yours...provoking that warrior
we forget our place in days of complacency
padding around like finicky kittens
his urge is your roar and uprise
a write is but musings of our mind
unless it encourages yours
I've urged his rain to fall
as I will bring mine to amass
as should we all ...to flood and conquer
the settling of soil into stubborn unthinking sediment
~~~~A Tribute to a poet who inspires my mind and provokes my thoughts...L'Nass Shango
Bring The Rain!!!!!
Categories:
padding, dedication
Form:
Free verse
Looking at you from a distance
Knowing from the instant
You began to speak
That your intelligence would hold me strong
Wondering what your eyes will say
If you never tore them away from my gaze.
Nearing the end of my heart’s search
A soul’s rejuvenated rebirth
Feeling the sands of happiness
Cover me in their pleasant darkness
Take me to love’s sandy grave
Looking past your beauty
In to your mind
Where the realness I seek I find.
It’s amazing how different you are
How crazily I am drawn to you
Looking past your physical
It’s almost musical
Artistically drawn to you
Lock me up in a padded room
Further intensify my doom
Stitch (her name) into the padding.
Floating on the sea of happiness
On a plank of love
Rains of rapture falling from above
Confessions of pain
The content of an insane mind
Your hands in the dark I wish to find
Your lips in the morning I wish to miss
Knowing that in a few
I have a chance to be with you
What if I told you that I never wanted this to end
What if I told you that I wanted to spend
The next ten years with you
What would you do
If I said that the things that swirl around in my head
The feelings that run in my heart
Tell me that we should never part
What if they tell me to stay
What if they tell me that things are finally going my way.
How do I say that I never want to say good bye
How do I say that such reality brings tears to my eyes
How do I say that I never want you to go
How do I say that I am so
In love with
you……….
Categories:
padding, happiness, love, passion, me,
Form:
Lenny the leprechaun was addicted to ****
He watched every day on the internet
Then he'd sleep from dusk to dawn
Having dreams he couldn't forget .
So his magic he is weaving
He will make a Colleen of his own
In him she'd be believing
Then he wouldn't have to sleep alone.
Burnt straw would make her raven hair
Clover gave her eyes of green
A little padding here and there
He had soon made a beautiful Colleen.
He cast his spell and all was well
As she took human form
To be sure she'd love him he could tell
She even felt so nice and warm .
So he gave her his sexiest wink
and cast an eye toward the stairs
She tried to talk but could only blink
For no sound was there there.
Aha thought he , Silly me
Then he gave her a voice
She sounded so sultry and so sexy
He felt his heart rejoice.
That was until she spoke to her new bloke
Telling him to get those ideas out of his head
All this stuffing and padding this room is a joke
and I bet you haven't even made the bed .
Just like a man you've done half a job
Now I've got cook and clean
Don't you dare whinge and shut your gob
There will be no rest for Sweet Colleen .
Poor old Lenny the leprechaun
Now hides in the garden shed
Never more will he watch ****
Such thoughts never enter his head.
Categories:
padding, funny,
Form:
Narrative
An ancient scraggy yellow cat
(nape infected with crusty mange)
frequented our house, asking for food.
He was not shy announcing his presence
or asking to be fed alongside another
guest we call No Neck -- the two were friendly,
sharing twin feeding bowls amicably.
Old Gold often bore the scars, the bloody fur,
of a frequent skirmisher (and loser.)
He was feeble, his sight not good,
and his vocalizations in advising us of his presence
were loudly unmelodious.
He enjoyed a fond petting and was often seen
padding cautiously about on nearby streets --
a free, though aged, spirit.
It grieves me to report that,
with good intent, we took
Old Gold to treat his mange,
but, after tests, were told
he could not be treated.
He had feline AIDS and leukemia.
So, he needed to be put down.
There are no cures or treatment.
We miss his visits and his scratchy-screechy calling.
His roaming done, he rests now, quietly,
in our garden.
Categories:
padding, absence, animal, bereavement, cat,
Form:
Free verse
Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?
Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”
Categories:
padding, adventure, allegory, angst, animal,
Form:
Verse
Memories of goodness from collaborating nakedness
are more than strong appetizing captivity from hot omelets and lasagna
serving as the foundation of a strong intimacy
planted in a greenhouse of mythical pleasures
growing in the natural mood of the angels,
joy of a breast fed toddler and
the blossom of a newly wedded bride
making each episode of our erotic escapades
fit in perfectly like fried bricks placed by an experienced mason
to always anticipate holy crimes, godly naughtiness and tempting tenderness.
Having a voice formed from taking Nature’s tea
your happy reactions feel like wrapping thighs over my soft abdomen
and playfulness like your tender pelvis greasing my trunk.
your anxious tongue convulse at the slightest touch of any body part
like the dancing tail of a fast swimming fish
padding my inside to softness to provide sensual oxygen
giving constant preservative to our gritty and never decaying romance.
Such love always create classic dreams
with slow melodic settings showcasing proactive kisses
from nuclear minds so spontaneous and rhythmic,
liberal skins ready for intense foreplays
making even our under wears carry so much envy
because of such a walled passion
impenetrable by any radar and unsinkable by any disaster.
Our essence of clothing is to take them off
the significance of our schooling is to garnish up such affection
the creation of this heat is a powerful reality
standing between men and angels
summing up a traditional fairy attached by
a never ending chain of irresistible desires
this exactly defines the two of us.
this bond is just conservative to our unique and inferno experience
and so therefore, the ultimate hope is, we should never stop!
Categories:
padding, love, romance, romantic, sexy,
Form:
Romanticism