Best Plastering Poems
Peter Pumpkin petted pink panthers' paws
Plastering purple push pins on pissed poetess
Producing panic in preheated porridge pot...
***Entry for Gwendolen’s "Big Kid Tongue Twister” contest***
(My friends still display a twisted and frozen smile... LOL!!! so the pie's for me)
Categories:
plastering, funny,
Form:
Alliteration
Bought an old cottage
In the country side
Needs some renovation
Have to modernize
On a plot of land all on its own
Wanna make this house a home
Gonna fix those windows
New bathroom too
Another thatched roof
Make it brand new
Go to the bank and ask for a loan
Wanna make this house a home
It needs some plastering
The kitchens a mess
But it’s got character
Style and the rest
Fallen in love with these pretty stones
Gonna make this house a home
It’s a house of two seasons
Picture cosy evenings
Sitting by the open fire
I get a special feeling
From those old oak beams
Gonna make this house my desire
You choose the wallpaper
And I'll pick the leather
I'm sure we'll be happy
Decorating together
Can't think of anything
Than designing together
To make this house a home
This house is not a home
Without the finishing touch
I'll build a wall out the front
Put fence out the back
Lights along the pathway
Flowers and some gnomes
Now doesn't that look sweet
This house is our home
© Copyright KC.Leake
26th June 2015
All Rights Reserved
Categories:
plastering, home, house,
Form:
Lyric
Jostling between the cattle
as they crowded the street
with steaming bodies
I steered my bicycle to school.
Fresh manure lay
in puddles on the ground,
plastering my shoes
with sloppy mush.
Men with caps and hats
at all angles, slapped hands
and bargaine, buying
and selling all day long
Many shop windows
were nailed with slats of wood,
to prevent the glass
being gored by horns.
A few livelier beasts might
wander into pubs and shops,
causing consternation.
On my way home,
shopkeepers with buckets
of water and yardbrushes,
tried to clean the street,
but it still reeked of beasts
and a day of dung.
Categories:
plastering, animal, childhood, culture, farm,
Form:
Free verse
Plastering is done from top
but it's built from foundation
corruption also starts from top
removing will save nation.
Categories:
plastering, corruption,
Form:
Free verse
Alice
Come here dear
The young blue-eyed girl
Skips to her grandmother
What should I wear to this dreadful ball?
The little girl stared furiously for three seconds
The blue-eyed girl eagerly pointed her finger at
The Silky white rhinestone laced ball gown
Oh really !!!
what an awfully dull choice….
Didn’t I tell you to be useful!!
The little girls smile vanished as quick as it appeared
The grandmother stands
I’ll pick this red dress
Thank the lord heaven above I don’t
Listen to retarded children
The girl stands there a smile still plastering her face
The grandmother screams
Why didn’t I just give you away
To your old drunkard bastard of a father
she paces around the room and stops
Come here dear!!!
She screams
The grandmother offers out her hand
The girl walks forward
Ill pick your dress
The girl smiles
Really grandmother
Yes
Ill paint this dress red
Categories:
plastering, betrayal, deep, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
He unwittingly hovers
...blankets of subjective weather
Plastering his artic tundra
Bandaging white clouds together
Blindly...
...withholding ill trepedation
Refocused on our tantalization
Frosting earth's core
.... with an icy show
Monstrously protecting grounds below~
Alerting those...
...napping numb spirits
With his icy mantra of sickles and cold
Old Man Winter's snowflakes unfold
Frost bitten chills triumphantly bold
A frothy iced message
...with wisdom to acquire
...conjuring those with a hidden desire
Here he laughs
...taunting from within
Old Man Winter is relieved again~
As our spent energies are woken
He does not speak...
...but has already spoken
His gift...a dormant spectacle found
As winter coats
....our frosted ground
More time now
.....with winter so cold
Kept indoors
....to ponder wonders untold~
Categories:
plastering, hope, imagination, inspirational, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
a schmaltzy little homily to our successful marriage of 32 & a bit years:
In Our time
We have fathomed
the intricacies
of Measurement
and Angle,
conquered the
Everest of
Plastering
& painted whole worlds
Many colours, many times over.
We have
Mastered the
Logic of tiling,
Plumbed the ancient
Mysteries of water,
Sanded, chiselled, nailed
& screwed to make things fit AND stay there!
Only to discover, at the end
Of all this sweat & toil
That the essence of home-building is…
the Level. @
Categories:
plastering, marriage,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Anyone can say they’re a mother
It takes more to be a mum
And all the desirable qualities
Are shown through the things that you’ve done
From changing nappies to holding my hand
Teaching me to walk and helping me stand
Plastering scrapes when my balance proved weak
Cuddles that lifted me back on my feet
Tucking me in you always kissed me goodnight
Reading the same story a hundred times
Wishing me luck on my first day of school
Making sure that I’d adhere to the rules
Helping me get through that difficult class
Paying a tutor to make sure I pass
Throwing a party when grades hit their prime
Encouraging me to strive higher each time
Watching me grow into a mature young adult
Helping me work on all of my faults
Teaching me how to learn from my mistakes
And all about patience when things are at stake
You raised me with pure love and great care
Without you, I wouldn't even be here
Now that I'm older I realise
The sacrifices that you've made in you life
You down played the cost of decisions you made
But now I can see the great price that you paid
Two years without dad, for my happiness
You’re one of a kind and completely selfless
Anyone can say they’re a mother
It takes more to be a mum,
You’re a first-class mum, daughter and wife
The love that you share brightens my life
Taide
22/04/16
Categories:
plastering, memory, mum, thank you,
Form:
Rhyme
Revving Up Life
Half asleep by my window
watching swirling snow
outside - memories drift
like a slide show, pictures
of my youth so long ago,
almost as real to me today
as the events were then.
Snippets of childhood –
I am three, stung by a bee,
James plastering mud on
my arm, soothing the pain,
happy smiles again.
At nine, a fall from monkey
bars – oof! – on my stomach.
Can’t breathe. Will I die?
Love hits me at thirteen,
racing pulse when he’s near,
breathless as he walks me home
from school. I am delirious.
But we break up, and
I am broken-hearted.
Life is over - my stomach knots.
I hide in my room and weep.
Seventeen, a picnic planned
with a new boyfriend. It pours!
We spread a blanket under a
bridge - damp, silly, and happy.
College years and a formal dance,
satin gown, disco ball, big band,
our bodies pulse with youth
as we hold each other close.
In my twenties I marry.
Problems. Was it a mistake?
Romance has cheated me.
Is everything my fault?
I feel wrong and resent it.
Counseling for both of us.
We struggle through and
find love we thought was lost.
Years pass, children, then
grandchildren spilling joy
and sometimes angst into
our lives as they grow
and become individuals.
I am old now. Life, like me,
slower – am I sad or happy?
I choose to be joyful.
I smell scents of the seasons,
autumn bonfires, roast turkey,
Christmas greens, mince pies,
spring flowers, summer barbecue.
Bitter winter winds chap my lips,
spring breeze gentles my face.
Memories swarm like fireflies,
rev up my recalcitrant self!
Categories:
plastering, childhood, emotions, family, memory,
Form:
Free verse
As I look, the world moves so oddly
home feeling like a story
and there's no tourniquet for my heart
No, it's open,
breathing air like lungs
a deep hole, a night slogged by weary eyes
under a sickly moon, and the night won't die
As I sit, the rain pitches tears
down the glass, down my face
Heaving, they come, like the crushed dark lungs
that the fog has always promised
That I took like a pill
a foolish jump, a compromise
I'm so feverish, I'm so ill
as the night descends, racking my bones,
plastering my shaking mouth back
drawing my eyes, cracked
Memories sputtering up of the night
I didn't escape, I couldn't get back,
lost in the black
a strange reality, counting each misplaced step
and the seconds nestling into my wrist
a record of my error
of terror- trailing behind me in
new sobs
And though you know me
you see my fingers recall
a horror- a corner
where I found myself
collapsed like a doll
My words, stifled but
my blood in flight
draining my mind
pulling me away
to the floor, my only door
and you fight off this shadow, this pain
like the man you know how to be
burrying your heart into me
So that maybe we can run away
thinking, maybe blind, we'll be ok
But oh, mistake
this body's in the way
This tangled hair catches sleepy knees
pulling back my sleeves
bursting with deep red wounds- red labels
calling danger, which rears as quickly as gravity
at a false step
at a finger too enthused
chapped at the water's edge
Not curious for a muse
But to save me
To hold my shaking shoulders
To be kind to me
To pull me out of the pit
And I'm just so sorry
forgive me Love, forgive me
You're breaking under my fallen fingers
kinder than I am blue
please, just be, I ache for you
smile and stay as I fall
You are too beautiful, too new
forgive me Love, for hurting you
I want you safe and
One heart is enough to break
So let me love you
my soul, my empty lake
Please, don't know my wake
it's too cold
And I need to heal...
Categories:
plastering, depression, fear, love, me,
Form:
Free verse
It slips in at night. Stealthy and low at first.
A few flakes pick up speed as the first low howl can be heard.
Wind howls against the house, branches scratching at the window like a cat trying to get in.
Heavy wet snow can be heard plastering itself onto everything.
Lights flickering as if planning on going out.
Snow in the street lights, heavyweight thumping down trees.
Tree limbs crash down on wires, popping sounds and sparks as transformers are taken out.
Cities go dark as power is lost, houses grow cold as the furnaces die down.
Sleep finally wins out till mornings light awakes.
The storm does not abate.
Everything covered in white, an eerie and wonderful state.
Trees coated in snow, winds whipping the limbs around mimicking the haunting of ghosts.
Snow drifts piling high as others places scoured clear and clean.
The snow hammers down and will for hours more.
Smoke in the chimneys, stoking the wood stoves and fireplaces as homes warm back up relying on the old ways to stay warm.
As the storm slowly dies down the soldiers of winter shovels in hand begin to roust about, bringing some semblance of order back to the homestead again.
Kids in the yards warring with white ammunition as school was called off. Snow angels with Frosty dancing around the yard. Sleighing and yelling can be heard out in the fields.
Mom back at home prepares hot chocolate with marshmallow delights for all the frosty nose participants from this winters stormy night.
Categories:
plastering, art,
Form:
Prose Poetry
darkness,spurt,race.pound,redness,echostride.strut, tango roil. gather.burst. pent.crash,roll, run. shiver
he strode through darkness, echoes of pounding pulsation spurt and race in
gathering redness. His pace quickens as shapes shiver by. The tide runs back against crash of surf. Clouds roil
above taking on color as intensity bursts and shudders. Purple green a flicker of warning followed immediately
by a thunderous crash. He stopped mid stride and smiled. just like that it was over. Rain washed down,
plastering his shirt against his skin. He took off his glasses and put them in his wet pocket. The rain stopped as
suddenly as it began. Clouds parted to reveal stars and a tender sliver of moon tipped toward a long set sun. He
looked back to see her running barefoot on his footsteps. Joy pushed tears to blur his vision.They crushed
together wordless hugging arms following hands in a tango of familiarity
He buried his face in the nape of her neck tasting the medley of rain,sweat, tears , and that perfume she loved
to dab right where his lips were. She started to speak.
He put his hand over her mouth and held his finger to his lips. Words were for later.
This was time for body language, in all it's soft familiar waking passion. Shivers and shudders shared in sudden
relief. The years of togetherness danced as the fumbling tango played itself in shared rhythmic pulsation racing
to held back
let now last forever, then bursting like the waves at their feet. The tide ran away as they held the closeness
together.
Categories:
plastering, liferain, rain,
Form:
Narrative
Years pass but the toxic, recurring echo remains heard
Distasteful slurs and horrid remarks fill in every last crack and crevasse
Plastering together an utterly repulsive vision of yourself
Displeasingly seen through your very own tainted heart and mind.
Lingering words feast upon vulnerability and unfaced fear
The unruly poisonous parrot squawks
Telling of your torturous bullied and picked on past
Plucking at the deepest insecurities you fail to hide and overcome.
Brightly neon colored to capture mass attention
Capturing and dismantling your ability to think for yourself
Slowly but surely the bullies from your past own your identity
Lingering words formed through high school envy
Stuck playing on an agonizing loop for excruciating eternity.
Maybe one day you will stop feeding the poisonous parrot with self-doubt
Begin poisoning the lingering words with self-appreciation and hard-earned success.
January 9, 2019
Plucking The Poisonous Parrot Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy
Categories:
plastering, anti bullying, anxiety, betrayal,
Form:
Free verse
It’s a fake smile.
It’s being 3 months old and having a mother in jail. Being 2 years old and being confused whether or not you have a mother. Being 17 and finding out the woman who gave birth to you has kept you a secret from everyone she knew.
It’s a real smile.
It’s being 6 and in the adoption process for a new mother. It’s opening the letter from court saying you officialing have a mother in your life. It’s being 17 and having your mom brag about your every accomplishment to every single person.
It’s a fake smile.
It’s being 12 and having your innocence taking away from you. Taken away from you by someone who had no business touching you. When people ask why you don’t have a boyfriend yet and you have to pretend you really want one.
It’s a real smile.
It’s your whole life when you having caring people all around you. Loving you when you need it the most. When you are sitting on your bed crying or at Christmas dinner laughing so hard you’re crying.
It’s being depressed and having to plastering a fake smile across your face when people are around. It’s being overjoyed and thankful and shining your smile when no one is looking.
Categories:
plastering, cry, identity, life, mother,
Form:
Free verse
Scattered room, a mess.
Disorganized.
Empty bottles of prescription pills.
Empty water bottles.
Empty void.
Yet the trash is half empty too.
A beating heart that's tightening
The heartbeats slow down
Then speeds up again.
The nerves signal the cortex
The brain, to replay.
The worst things in life.
Green tea which boosts metabolism
Supposed to boost the better emotion
But it's not.
The void is still there.
The light reflections are not a warm glow
They are of emptiness and shallow.
Though there is no presence of conflict
In this moment in time
Why does it still exist?
Hands close
Hands open
Hands freezing cold.
Lifeless.
Dreams come and go
Nightmares stay.
But this is not that girl, that boy.
Being strong isn't hiding
Plastering fake smiles on.
Being strong is talking and conquering.
But the laughter and positivity
They're superglued.
There's an abyss elsewhere.
Categories:
plastering, absence, depression, feelings, lost,
Form:
Free verse