Best Pillow Poems
If I could put love on a pillow
I’d lay it on your bed
for you to find there every night
and rest your weary head
To set your dreams in motion
and make your world carefree
for you to know your value
for you to finally see
If I could put love on a pillow
there’d be no need for prose
for all your pain, you’d understand
that thorns protect the rose
You’d wake to smiles and sunshine
with kindness on your plate
to know the road is long
but never it’s too late
The bed is still in disarray.
A faint erotic scent exudes
From the crumpled pillow.
Was it only yesterday
This page unfolded?
Empty now this gold and decorated room
Except for paper roses.
A bobolink
On a spiral spring, gay.
The mirror stares back at me
Unrecognizing the pale cold shadow
Who haunts it seeking
An old reflection.
The blush is gone; no joke
This walking in and out of chapters.
Tell me another story, friend,
Or give this one a happy ending.
When I feel alone and sad,
Lying on my bed,I hold on to my pillow.
I close my eyes,I think Of You,
You are My Sun,My Star,My Moon,
Shining Up My Sky,You take away my blue!
When I feel alone and sad,
I dream away,Feelin myself,sleeping close to you.
You brush Off my tears,my doubts and fears,
You are My Sun,My Star,My Moon,
Shining up my sky,You take away my blue.
Charma
A true story....
Well I lived in Sioux City for a little while
Another job site, hubby and I have covered some miles
While there, my mother in law came to visit
She drove Elvira, the biggest Buick ever made
No doubt about it!
I drove mom around to see the highlights
If you've been there, you know there's nothing but corn in sight
Suddenly the cars in front of us started to slow
Wondering which way around this pillow they needed to go
Well some went left and some went right
Some straddled over it and seemed alright
Mom said baby, it will be OK
Just drive right over it
Elvira won't notice anything in her way
I lined up perfectly and over we went
Thought I'd made it until visions were sent
Into the rear view mirror of down floating everywhere
And it wasn't pleasant!
I could see people on the sidewalks laughing, I pretended not to care
As millions of feathers floated through the air
Really embarrassed I drove on about one hundred feet
Then Elvira stopped dead right there in the street
Somehow the drive train had caught the cotton cover
Ripping it to shreds, wrapping it round and round so tight
Until it killed the engine dead
Now I know God works in mysterious ways
But He proved it for sure this very day
In a parking lot next to where Elvira had died
Was a complete race car driver's pit crew - no lie!
An 18 wheeler with trailer in tow
Guys dressed in uniforms, patches aglow
With traffic backing up behind us
They came over to see what was all the fuss
I said spitting feathers out of my mouth
I really don't know, I'm from down south
They opened their trailer and out came the jacks
Air hoses and tools, they got down on their backs
From under the car I heard laughter and jokes
They'd seen cars stopped by everything but a pillow!
Well I thanked them and shook each and every hand
They wouldn't accept money, said the entertainment was grand
I often wonder who they were and if they remember Elvira and the pillow in Iowa land....
©Donna Jones
Dreams
Waft
Downward
Billowing
As the bed sheets drape.
Fold in the sides - tuck the corners
For only then will my wrinkled thoughts be neatly made.
I have trouble sleeping,
Yes, that's true,
No matter how many blankets heaping,
They all wind up on the floor,
Yes, that's makin' me blue,
And I don't wanna' stay up no more....
So I went on line,
To some South American place,
They ship goodies oh so fine,
Imagine, from the Amazon River!!!
And they usually come on time
Yes, it's true,
I wouldn't lie to you....
So I ordered this big body pillow,
Bigger than you or me,
And an expensive satin cover,
Oh, what luxury, you see?
I got it yesterday,
Yes, it's true,
The damn thing took up
The entire bed!!
What was I to do??
The two of us can't fit,
I was kind'a feelin' sh__,
Another Tom Bell Dumbbell idea,
What'll I cook up next?
I feel like Ralph Kramden,
Foiled at every turn....
So I took the pillow outside,
Lit it up, and let it burn...
At least I got a little heat,
Out of this dumbbell feat....
What'll I do next?
Why, do I have a hex?
Maybe if I try to do something real dumb,
It'll turn out a brilliant thing...
But, then again, with my luck,
I'll wind up in Sing-Sing.
Up early and off to school I must go
Full of pep and not too slow,
That was then when I was young
This is now a new age I have begun,
How I hate them as I climb out of bed
Early mornings are for the dead,
Unreasonable I must seem
Unyieldingly demanding where is my coffee cream,
But I did love them bed and pillow
Seems so long ago I dreamed of an armadillo,
Now they‘re ruthless dreams
I just can’t do them with ice cream,
I’m now past my prime teens.
8-23-2019 "for contest COLLABORATION sponsored by Line Gauthier"
Death, a celestial pillow is upon which souls rest for a while, dreaming of the life to come!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
17 February 2016
Cement Pillow
Blame, blame, blame
makes playing life’s game so much easier to do…
Shift it, change it, switch it as long as it ain’t put on you.
Blame, blame, blame
Mom’s the easiest target…
since dad I never knew.
Blame, blame, blame
Let others wear the shame…
As you rip a beat/ freestyle & put on a show…
Convinced that such is true, that chip on his shoulder is free to grow & grow.
Blame, blame, blame
No! Son try a ‘lil’ Socratic Reasoning…
You might find out it was truly all your own choices & actions…
In reality the blame all belongs to you.
Blame, blame, blame
“No, no, no!” Is the retort I get…
Look back in truth with that gifted brain
Choosing still to refrain,
cause the performance is way cooler, when one has been ripped off and beaten down by one who’s sposed to help you make gain.
Blame, blame, blame
“If I truthfully look back, think hard and follow the logic, I might have to accept that it was my own choices and actions…Shite! I really did create my own bed!”
No worries, son, you have naught to dread... my love is unconditional and just continues to spread.
Jill Spagnola
Muddy Water's Gramma gave us licorice
I walked the old Kenwood neighborhood with my twin little brother and sister in tow,
'hold there hands and look both ways before you cross the street'
No use trying to talk my way out, knew it was the only way mom would let me go.
October's new moon, peaked in and out of passing clouds,
leaving the night gloomy in stygian darkness.
Faces painted, carrying our paper bags, dressed in raggedy linen pillow case shrouds.
Low sad sound of a guitar's slow lick, pitch in open E, played a few doors down,
accompanied by a soulful song sung:
'Well, my mother told my father,
just before hmmm, I was born,
"I got a boy child's comin,
He's gonna be, he's gonna be a rollin stone,
Sure 'nough, he's a rollin stone..'
I knocked on the door, our shrilled chorus trio called out Trick or Treater's round,
Clutching a Bible in her hands 'to ward off evil spirits'.
Gramma Della turned on the porch-light, framed in screened doorway,
emitting a joyous whooping sort of laugh, invited the three of us in.
The bright-eyed man sat at the kitchen table, looking up from his guitar emblazoned in Formica reflected glory.
In the corner, a pretty girl, dressed as Cinderella, sat cross-legged on the floor..
with what looked like a million dollars worth of candy.
Muddy, who had ceased his song at our knock, nodded our way.
With curious smile that was both happy and sad, in smooth, measured voice said
'Oh don't you look a fright'.
Della handed out licorice that year, the same as all the years we once knew.
But what us kids remember best, and last, the man who sung & played the Catfish Blues.
What I didn't learn 'til later, a picture placed in Muddy's view of the living room.
Little Walter, with his harmonica cupped in hands,
who died just a year earlier, a day after Valentine's moon.
Inspired by McKinley Morganfield and his Grandmother Della Jones
You get a heck of a sound from the church. Can't you hear it in my voice? -Muddy Waters
Did you ever fall into a puffy big fluffy pillow,
Greeting your back as gravity commands you
And wraps around your entirety?
That moment where all you see is cushion:
Soft and safe is all that you feel
And you hear the rush of air passing you by.
For an instant there is nowhere else,
There is nowhen else, time has stopped
And you wish the moment would never end.
But all too soon you are aware
That you still lie among chaos
And you pretend the pillow is your shield.
Jumping from pillow to pillow
Tring to hide from the world
And you know it’s not real
I wish I could only hear the rush of air passing me by,
My vision obscured by the comforting cocoon
And to feel someone wrapped around me.
There is an angel for all of us,
I know this to be true,
You know when things get really bad?
And there is nothing left for you,
When your heart is down and that golden crown,
Once worn in a life you knew?
Has slipped aside as the tears you cry,
Make you feel that your life is through,
To see this angel then step aside,
Don’t look at yourself or your broken pride,
Just seek a person worse off than you,
And offer your help for your heart to renew!
And then your life and all it is,
Will be touched with an angel’s gift to give,
For to cry for yourself, then nothing to gain,
And always in tears your heart will remain,
But to give to another when you are down.
Then always you will wear a crown,
And the angel beside you will pillow your heart,
And then,
Only then!
Can you make a new start!
There are tears mixed
into the pancake batter
sun is still obfuscated
by the window shades
without sunshine, I still
wind up a morning person
Tobacco clings to me,
where your scent would be
sewn with many memories
into the mesh of myself
a premature family crest,
stained and worn
The new day shows
only one outcome remains
the eggs are runny,
my nose sniffles into an arid oasis
no sunny side seems
to show up these days
I wake up to an empty pillow,
your space hollow through
but I still cannot but help myself
from making breakfast for two.
As the brisk morning light illuminates my room,
I feel overwhelmed by a foreboding air of doom.
Melancholy presence within every waking pore.
Is it I have been missing that someone I adore ?
Tears on my pillow were left there while I slept.
Wonderful memories of him so preciously kept.
Guarded by the night, for only dreams to recall.
Then why in slumber did these moist drops fall ?
The night keeps my secret? I miss him so much.
By day all smiles, while I'm longing for his touch.
Now this tearful tendency, I'm uncertain of why.
Remembering arcadian times shouldn't make me cry.
Mendacious vibes are now quite pervasive this morn.
Is it missing him? Is that the reason I am so forlorn?
Knowing him and his love, gives a euphoric feeling.
By day all smiles, loving him gives the affect of healing.
At midnight the clock chimes, twelve will be pealing.
The darkness of night, its my tears it will be stealing.
Deep in slumber and oblivious, I wouldn't even know,
If I didn't wake in the morn to find tears on my pillow.
Maybe in my sleep, I dreamed away all my fears.
Maybe "The darkened sky stole my tears"
Guarded by the night is it only then I cry?
Tears on my pillow, all that's left by the darkened sky.
In the library, we meet a young lady; her study, it does overwhelm,
Resting, laying her head down, she then transcends into another realm.
She awakes amongst a rolling fog, as it clears she heeds an immense object,
Wiping her eyes, she starts afoot and discerns a large book standing erect.
The cover presented then creeks ajar, the yellowed pages adorn with dust,
Projecting light into the binding with an antique lantern that’s covered in rust.
Pages turn rapidly, fluttering as the outskirt of her dream fold over and billow,
Suddenly she awakes to realize that she’s been using the same book as a pillow.
——————
Date: May 8, 2019
Free Verse or Rhyme Poetry Contest - Picture #2
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Poem Type: Rhyme