Best Piece Of Furniture Poems
From here to wherever, I'll follow a yard sale sign,
it's a past time endeavor, for my collective state of mind,
I may buy some furniture, or a trinket for a dime,
yard saling is a pleasure, yes, a personal hobby of mine,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
and it gives me great joy, to see a yard sale sign,
from here to wherever, cloudy days or sunshine,
I'm searching for that treasure, ain't no telling what I'll find,
I may find brand new things, boots, shoes, or clothes the right size,
silver and gold chains or rings, or an antique will catch my eyes,
I could find my brother a nice bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
or maybe a nice piece of furniture, or something for a friend of mine,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
and it gives me great joy, to see a yard sale sign,
It's a past time endeavor, for my collective state of mind,
Yard saling is a pleasure, ain't no telling what I"ll find,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, I just spotted a yard sale sign,
searching is a pleasure, ain't no telling what I'll find,
I may find an old bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
now one thing is for sure, I just found my cat a ball of twine,
and look here, I found my ol' dog a bone to grind,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
I may find an old bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
from here to wherever, cloudy days or sunshine,
I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, ain't no telling what I'll find,
Hey Bud, how much for that there what-cha-ma-call-it?
Naw Naw, Naw, that there thing-a-ma-jig, there next to that do-ma-flitchie,
Yea, Yea, that thinga-ma-jig right there.....ya say three dollars..um-m-m..OK...
I'll take it...here ya go.....and how much for that do-daddy over there?
Yea, yea, right next to those 2 onion skin tires...Uh Huh..yea..well I'll be..
Well yea..I'll take it too...it's something I just can't live without...ha ha ha..
My heart has accepted every piece of furniture
you have brought in and hoarded, polished and stored,
for show or hidden in the attic of cerebral storage.
Cobwebs draped the entrances I walked through
without wincing, chasing extinguishing light…
gold tarnishing possibilities that I found invaluable.
Joy dances in even to the bereft
She cracks my frown with a tango
Then she leaves my house swept
Joy is a hummingbird trapped indoors
Her iridescence lights up all my grime
Usher her out before I’m enamored
But, happiness is like fish overstayed
His cloying perfume overpowered
He is a rhino to her phoenix raised
Sometimes joy is an elephant
Hiding under a tablecloth snickering
She exits invisibly like an ant
Sometimes she’s Mary Poppins waltzing
Scrubbing a spot that I cannot dirty
Sprinkling a spoon full of sugar on salt
A lifetime of joy waltzing in wears me out
Then happiness retires to a piece of furniture
I’ll give her a ticket to dance and not pout
Someday when I am old and feeble
Too tired of laying ashes down
I’ll let joy lift my frown with needles
I’ll let her cat sit on my lap untamed
When I’m too demented to sully joy
I’ll let joy feast upon my remains
Till then I’ll leave the door ajar
** Luke 12:36
"Be like men who are waiting for their master when he returns from the wedding feast, so that they may immediately open the door to him when he comes and knocks."
Every piece of furniture reminds her of him.
She picks up the phone.
To tell him something funny.
To get his reactions.
To hear his voice.
Every glance out the window is a memory.
She picks up the phone
To feel his smile
To hear him laugh at the same time
To explain her feelings
Forgetting each time
There are no phones in heaven.
"The Odyssey, First Steps"
"You’re just like a doll...
you're like a doll,
in a dream", he said,
I nod, up then down,
as if my head moves
by puppet master
I turn with the strings
like a piece of furniture
facing East door, then,
the ghost in me arises
from its chair
and like an automaton,
I walk, through the door
I walk, I turn North,
as if drawn
by architecht
Sthapatya Veda;
the Odyssey, first steps
looking for
the way to
Brahmasthan
the centre
pulls me back
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Every piece of furniture I am becoming attached
Is that possible?
Nah cannot be
You cannot become attached to things - personal things
Just like you cannot become attached to people
I am tired of being the mannequin
Guinea pig - whatever you call it
For God to try His hands on
I am not too sure if I want to be the first in everything
It seems I got hit the hardest
Just like the first born
The parent likes to try everything
And learn it along the way
And they go easier on the later born
That is the way I feel
First it's a yay
Now it's nay
Make up Your mind
Or You can have both
Just take both off
As I don't want it neither
Tired of dealing with You
Don't want to deal with You no more
Go - no go
Don't matter to me
As I don't give a hooter
Lol whatever
I am getting to a point where I don't really care
See who gives a hoot
I no longer COOPERATE
You can do it all on Your own
As I no longer want it
You think I do?
Well You can shove it
As it no longer means s to me
Just the way You want it
Because I cannot do anything that You don't want me to do
But I am doing it
So there
Hope You are happy
And be blessed
And don't ask me for anything
Because the answer is going to be "no"
I mean it
Don't
I may be no linguistic superstar
Or bachelor,master, doctor of languages
But i'll have you know
I've performed my works on many occasions
To cats, dogs, trees and miscellaneous flora
All of whom showed quiet
Appreciation
And genuine interest
In what I had to say
I have shouted rhymes and
Metaphors
At the top of my voice
To the inside of my house
While every piece of furniture
Sat motionless in awe
Rehearsed countless conversations
Loudly
While riding bicycle
Through quiet spectacular landscapes
Magnificent mountains
Stood high in silence
Listening to every word
Offering quiet encouragement
I am a Savonarola chair
carved from discarded
remnants of cedar and birch that
littered our backyard -
waiting to be burned
or broken by a trespasser’s hands,
or tended to by the warm touch
of a gardener’s natural instinct;
an individual
who values growth
and prosperity.
I am an object
forged from splinters and sweat.
My four legs become six when your
spoiled bones and blackened hearts
grow weary.
Stilted fractures wax like leprosy
within your fumbled thoughts -
seeking respite as you recount
negligent actions upon broken fingers.
Father was a saw
and cut out his tongue.
Mother was an awl
boring through his visibility.
Ignorance sanded his face.
Blind eyes rendered him mute and
useless, like a comb without teeth
or a song-less linnet bird.
I am a piece of furniture.
A curio cabinet
curiously displaying your mistrust.
An end table advertising no family portraits.
An ottoman whose cushions knead
the detestation clinging like muck upon
the backsides of chafed ankles.
I am:
Father's severed chainsaw.
Mother's twisted liquor cap.
Sister's crumpled gum wrapper.
Brother's fleshtone punching bag.
I am a chair.
I serve a purpose - but not for you.
A chair can be slip-covered, polished,
straddled and veneered.
A child cannot.
I am most content when six legs
morph back into four.
Exuberant,
I then know my
private existence can breathe -
and the hardened antecedents
who took advantage
of my open arms and inviting lap
have grievingly walked away.
There once was a gentle man so humble before all
who were common and before all who were great.
Never did He bow down before man nor worldly kings.
This one man talked about what true love is... not about politics.
This man who stepped down here below became a loving
carpenter, a builder and a mender of something more than
just a piece of furniture.
There were only a certain few that could follow him and
comprehend the magnitude of what His presence would
mean to us all.
The visions of such possibilities were not understood by all.
This man, God's kingly Son, ruler of another world if not more
was one in whom Father God was well pleased with.
The Kingdom was not only at hand but had arrived this moment
right before their eyes.
The prick of the thorn, the heat of Satan could be felt lashing
into this brave man's flesh... he had tempted him with every pleasure
and even a place of rule upon the Earth.
God forbid in Satan's mind that there should be room for
Heaven and Earth's rebirth... an existence without him? Unthinkable
in his mind.
S.E. Clark copyright 2011
A dusty, wooden table, painted a vibrant
red, stands alone in a vacant ole'
farmhouse kitchen. Nearby is a
window sporting many panes of
broken glass, allowing vivid sunlight
to filter throughout this rotting structure.
A large jar adorns this wobbly
legged piece of furniture.
A brown wilted vine drapes itself over
the edge, meeting a dry, splintered wooden
floor, covered of mud, dead grass
and murky colored yellow weeds.
As I canvass this grim place, a vision
of sunniness glinting from old
glasswork fills my mind of what this room
may have once contained. Light, airy
happy memories of a mother's
home baked cookies for her children,
holidays and family gatherings.
Indeed, an empty pickle jar filled
with lustrous sunshine can put a
smile within one's heart.
So Hey out there! Yes You!
You with that day to day job, that day to day life and those hidden fears of Death, Failure, Sex,or whatever
(Whatevers can catch you sleeping)
What are you doing about things like travel, new cars,God, Taxes, and how to raise children to survive in
this place?
Are you satisfied with yourself? Does life bore you? Are there enough peaceful moments left to take a walk,
read a book, Create something (like a new piece of furniture, or a gazebo? Put your mate to work? rake the
lawn?
So Hey out there!
You with that life. You with those friends. You with those precious moments mixed in with long tiresome
hours.
Take a look at the bright side. Remember you're looking at the green side of the sod. Take a second to point
out the goodness. Keep yourself above pollution. Listen to the sweet song of a bird as it threatens to kill
trespassers. Look at the beautiful color of a polluted sunset. Be glad there are no wolves, or bears left to
drink that dirty water. Take pride in the austere simplicity of city buildings and blck smooth highways. Look at
man's progress and rejoice. It may not be the best of civilizations but at least we are improving daily. Soon
even the oceans will surrender to us.
So Hey out there!
You with that life! You with that golden sunset, and ever more peaceful sea. Cheer up. Take pride in the fact
that it's not your fault. You're not to blame. Just go to work. Do your thing. Teach your children by
example. ( It's the best method) They'll follow in your footsteps.
The lock clicks,
And the apartment is left lifeless.
Each piece of furniture lining the walls,
Is lifeless under winters' creeping touch.
The T.V. was left on,
Playing reruns of "Dukes of Hazard".
Silently it flashes in the background.
A blanket is unfolded on the tannish stained couch,
And a pillow rests near the arm.
Crumbs lead from the small living area to the smaller kitchen.
A bowl sits on the counter,
Holding milk from cereal this morning.
The milk is warm now.
One of the drawers is left ajar,
Plastic silverware is unorganized within.
The mess of the kitchen leads into the smallish bedroom
One bed; unmade.
A small chestnut dresser, with clothes hanging from the drawers.
Some trinkets clutter and a coasterless cup stains the wood.
A towel has been thrown across the hardly carpeted floor,
Leading into the minuscule bathroom.
It is still steamy from a shower in the morning.
A grungy toothbrush rests on the counter by the nearly empty toothpaste tube.
The rusty shower head drips.
Plinking into the hair clogged drain.
It drips and drops, drips and drops,
But no one is there to hear it.
(More Pun-ishment)
The difference between a Fine and a Tax
is really easy to tell!
A Fine is a tax, for doing wrong!
A Tax is a fine, for doing well!
If life gives you lemons, make lemonade,
I once heard someone say.
Find someone whose life gave them, Vodka'
then you two can party, the rest of the day!
"What's the purpose of Raindeer"?
He thought that question was funny!
He answered her, as best he could,
"It makes the grass grow, Honey"!
What Disney movie is about a stupid boyfriend?
Does anybody know?
Sorry people, your time is up!
The answer, of course, is "Dum-bo"!*
What's the longest piece of furniture in the world?
Please, answer if you're able!
You can go to the head of the class,
if you said - The Multiplication table!
If a Parrott is crossed, with a Centipede,
what would we get in the end?
The result,very simply stated,
is a "Walkie-Talkie", my friend!
A bullet stuck in a tree with no leaves,
would be difficult to see!
In any event, you would have to admit,
it's "a cartridge in a bare tree"!
What would you call a Rabbit with fleas?
Which wouldn't be all that funny!
I don't know about you folks,
but I would call him "Bugs Bunny"!
(*Dum-bo = Dumb Beau)
Pardon my heavy pace,
Heavy as I may seem.
Indecisive as i maybe,
I am working towards thee.
To that far left corner
I must move this piece of furniture.
And this one to right corner
No, Im throwing it out the aperture!
That reaction was not proper.
I need to repent instantly.
This right doing, is not proper.
Isn't there a manner much suiting?
Heavy as I may seem,
I am working towards you.
Indecident I might seem,
Leaving with you is my ambition.
You are gentle.
With David you were.
You branded him your own.
The man after your own heart.
For furniture i care not.
Neither for silver nor gold.
I booked a seat in your boat.
Just don't leave without me.
Crazy people are life’s brilliant colours
A Street can look so dull but to a crazy person a parade of dancing fairies appear as the floor catches the rain
A fence post can look ordinary but to a crazy person the scratches in the wood would unveil a renascence picture to the brain
A wardrobe is just a piece of furniture but to a crazy person it’s a place to hide from the fumbling green giant when he goes insane
A quiet room is something familiar but to a crazy person it’s somewhere the voices in his head can tell him to do things he shouldn’t again
A piece of music is common place but in the mind of a crazy person the wonderful memory of a young lover that he still in his heart retained
A conversation can be uncomplicated until the crazy man comes in on a complete tangent and starts talking about how the trees tell him of the midnight crocodile train
A man walking towards you seems unthreatening but watch the crazy man believe that he is chasing him with a big bread knife yet thinks he is sane
A window scene seems incredibly dull yet the crazy man watches every movement in the window to make sure he is alone and not liable to meet the devil at the window pane
A word like crazy can seem normal to say yet every time I see it the crazy man always and forever will be in unequivocal pain.