Best Plastered Poems
not with a broad brush
thick strokes stoked with opinion
hate plied with a knife
***
Old Fred had a kitchen disaster
And urgently needed a plaster
How his work buddies snicker
At the dinosaur sticker
A stiff upper lip Fred must master!
A factual poem with a little sprinkle of poetic licence... My hubby (he's not called Fred) cut his hand and all I could find in my bag was an old dinosaur plaster and a friend of ours was in hysterics when he saw it
09/12/21
I look back to yesterday's sadness
Marked by tears not allowed to spill
A smile plastered on a perpetual nightmare
Dreaming of how my life should have been
Marked by tears not allowed to spill
Screams from within muffled by salt water
Dreaming of how my life should have been
In the distance my eyes see dry land
Screams from within muffled by salt water
My life preserver tight around my neck
In the distance my eyes see dry land
Expectations beyond this my misery
My life preserver tight around my neck
I must release the straps and swim away
Expectations Beyond this my misery
I struggle to reach freedoms shore
I must release the straps and swim away
My dream is but a few strokes in the distance
I struggle to reach freedoms shore
With each stroke I become much stronger.
My dream is but a few strokes in the distance
Away from a smile plastered on a perpetual nightmare
With each stroke I become much stronger
I look back to yesterday's sadness
Randy Hoards Brandy
Locks his stash secretly
Basement waterloggs
His animals go fuzz fuzz
Singing Glory to the keeper
Zebra plastered on your glue right-hand knot
near the end sorry.
Painted girls tossed in the air
hiding spoken truth.
Guitars bleached their long
silk hair.
I played with civil war's eternity
dust and held your wings
in the air's trust.
Catching butterfly spots.
Rainbow cream pies.
Remorse hides behind
deep pain.
I hide behind lonely eyes.
Everything is pretty between
your painted purple cream
but the dirty laundry
fades and degrades our
freedom's insane frame.
Bombs ticking away on
the side of years.
Dust a model that paints
the sun and once the art
is done, dead inside
an antique bottle,
we will all be like
your dead zebra broken
by the giraffe's dirty ear.
Silver through the nostrils
and we plucked out our
seed under the dirt, cheap
from the monkey paw.
A buried bone sticks through
born eyes and we believe
our giraffe ear has a bad
infection or a near reaction
to save God from taking our
land.
We must not hide.
Bones will fly just like
lonely spirit's suicide
and nature kept
the glory, our key.
Plastered posters up on dividers
laminated and preserved for generations
of students, marching by filing
nameless the years, uncounted
the numbers
His wet hair, dripping like seaweed,
plastered thick on his groggy head,
as a waterfall of thoughts cascades
through his mind, even through his bed;
must be a real, mean storm out there,
his roof badly needs urgent repair!
Life stay only for every single word,
Are you?thou-not every ward,
It has past what you have in your sword,
Either " thy sunshine,or-neither nor the grace of odd!
I once a solder with the life of living Tod,
Every street'blood walked like the black white gravel head,
Ability, straighten the coming of hidden Fred;
Crying of abolished time and desert trod,
Wounded above a decade,
In my veins rolling like a air spade,
art' thou thy evening Slade!
Colorless of watering lad,
Upon! It stood thousand space against the solder's aid.
Life has no aid,
No help from the world,
It has a plastered wound,
Above a decade,
Before thee come to thy fluid.
The painter drank with no restraint
Quite drunk with his mind askew
Survived the trip back to his flat
And then stumbled off to the loo
Looking for relief in head and hand
Which proved to be quite daunting
He grabbed sleeping pills instead,
Of the aspirin he was wanting
Paint on walls, the ceiling, a chair
In his hair and behind his ears
It was quite the sordid affair
He then gave up drinking for years!