Best Redecorated Poems
Living Truth
Ancient guides of venerated truth
Stumble through numb spiritual graveyards
Where truth casts its shadow in chiseled words,
A signature of affection,
On moss bathed alabaster stones that once
Gleamed in treasures of veracity,
Autographed insights of the ancient sages
Screams out the litany of wisdom
Then begs, like balm, the insomniac unconscious heart
To intone a resurrection,
A living trove of living verbs in action
Breaking from the bondage of a chrysalis redecorated
With raw promises to shake off stagnation,
Relight the lantern star of the eternal spring’s veracity
Springing into actions that rise from stone inertia
Insight’s revelation releases a new song of songs
Truth that lives anew –
That propels the quest of new a-ha’s
That plants new reasons for renewed actions
In the waiting heart embraced.
5-3-22
Contest: Our Truth
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
1st Place Our Truth
~The Cradle~
Leafless arms extend full length.
Embracing in their curves an empty cradle
Tucked into a cozy arbor still lingering
With the scent of apple blossoms full grown
Crafted from borrowed twigs, a stolen yellow ribbon and
Pillows of soft green moss
That cradled three tiny eggs, color borrowed from the sky,
Growing into a promise of soaring into sunlight,
Waiting within the guardian
Now dreaming through frozen nights -
Sanctuary, decorated with frozen dew,
Quietly brooding-
Ready to receive the kiss of Heaven’s blessing -
Listening for the flutter of first heartbeats
And newborn wings –
Hope giving birth
When daylight lifts up hands to push aside the darkness,
Witness of the cradle born again
From borrowed twigs, a stolen yellow ribbon
Redecorated with pillows of soft moss.
Last night I had a face to face confrontation with my floor. I redecorated it in
crimson red. A poorly thought out medicinal cocktail, mixed with a bit too much
wine, helped me demonstratre Issaac Newton's theory of gravity. As well as
adding further evidential proof to the theory of entropy. Now blue and purple have
always been my favoite colors, so I was pleased to see my now "tie-dyed" torso.
I had a number of pleasantries in strore for the staff- like my usual red "TRAUMA"
stickers on my forehead. And, of course, I always sign in as Randell P. McMurphy
I find a hospital setting a good place to have some fun, well, at least if I'm not
dying. Sleep well, my friends.
Sad but true
I miss you
Abruptly
Most surely
Why did you go?
My heart hurts
Arterial stabs
Pain redecorated
Darkness floods
Wet eyes weary
Painful melancholia
Grief prolongs
Leon Enriquez
19 March 2016
Singapore
Innate with a fresh epicranium,
smooth like a marble!
Duration of her absolute head got short-lived
As if her middle name was trouble!
She wish she knew her ingle hue was purple
Too bad, no remembrance since her crown was redecorated!
An ordeal! At a tender age,
Tattooed her with seams!
One symmetrical, two adjacents, As if students learning about lines in an Arithmetic lesson!
Some curved, crossed, arrowed, arcs!
Hmm! What a tragedy!
True, she is cicatrose...
A dent, depression, enough to store water like a well, slit across her hood.
Great confidence needed to be bald because she is scary like an unvarnished wood!
A mere headache! Just a mere headache!
She wished it could have given her a break!
But no! More malady manifested.
She found refuge in a Hotel- Dieu.
Angels in white coats slit her head summit with sharp blades, she woke with a bind
Binding her stitched bald head.
Little did she know her epicranium will be cicatrose,
Which psora when exposed.
Sad, her head is cicatrose!
By LeboGFaith
If you've never pulled some tinsel
Out of your cat's butt
Or cleaned up after "Fluffy"
Eats the poinsetta and throws up
Surely, you've redecorated
After "Fluffy" climbs the tree
You hear it smash into the floor
In the morning, about three
You've used wire to support it
Keep it straight, that is your goal
To "Fluffy" it's her present
It's her brand new scratching pole
When the tree has got no water
But, the cat just has to pee
You have to fill the bowl again
Beneath the dying tree
You kick ornaments around the room
And find out that they're glass
Because "Fluffy" had to play with them
So, you kick her in the ass
It's a Family Christmas Ritual
If you're the owner of a cat
You can't decorate and leave it
She won't have none of that
Christmas is the season
For cats to drive you mad
And give you Christmas memories
You wish you never had
So, if you've never seen the tinsel
That the cat ate just last night
You can see it just below her tail
If the light just hits it right
This is why I have a dog....
Date December 27 2018
Contest Pets at Christmas
Sponsor Dear Heart
I saw a house I used to know, today
Someone I loved had lived there once
A few years gone
So very long ago
For a moment I was seized by some idea
Of knocking on that well remembered door
To ask for her I once had loved
Perhaps I would be led into her kitchen
While its present occupant Rummaged
For a written down address.
That kitchen would be new
Refurnished
Redecorated
Remodelled
Well beyond my time and memory.
I must never call at doors
That are for me no longer left unlocked.
Redecorate
give it a brand new look,
so much fun to change the face
making something old look new
colors, paint
posters, furniture
like breathing life
all over again,
all it takes is time
to give a gift to yourself,
enjoy a redecorated room
I opened up some boxes
in this vast, echoing chamber
had a white elephant sale
ridding some of the old treasures
rearranged the remaining pieces
redecorated it fung shui
now there is plenty of room
for what comes in the future
Call me Mr. Sensible. Call me Mr. Reason.
You can always count on me, regardless of the season.
Consistently, I have a plan, built on a firm foundation.
I take care to work things out, based on sound information.
But as I get older, something might be happening to my brain.
Madness wants to disrupt my methods, rational and sane.
With this crazy freedom seeking impulse, I'm not sure whether
(or how much longer) I can keep my head together.
What's that you say, you addle-brained, speckled neon freak?
Yes, it's freedom from your logical tyranny that I seek.
Backwards, upside down, I don't care which way you like,
I'll ride my silver unicycled, one-wheeled velvet bike.
I'll scatter raindrops on the tattered pages of your dumb books,
I'll let them fry or drip them dry, hanging upside down from hooks.
I'm Mr. Hyde. I will not bide. It's time to take my daylight midnight ride.
I'll go from your left ear to the right and come out the other side.
My head is flying sideways, across a popcorn universe,
I see myself in a suit and tie, lying in a coffin in a hearse,
and hear words fly from my mouth, telling me (though I'm dead),
my method's been redecorated by a madness in my head.
mother needed a new stove
everyone had white stoves in the sixties
it was the approved color
appliance store up town received a sample stove
it was painted a blazing bright red
not what any self-respecting cook would want
it cost way less than the other stoves
my parents bought it
mom redecorated her kitchen in red
everyone who saw it wanted a red stove
they ran uptown and demanded one
this had been a prototype that did not make it
it was way too modern for 1962
so we had the only red stove
but other women soon created red kitchens
I want to see the moon, but I am shackled in my house.
It's the garden where the pink lotus has worn out.
It's the mirror, just shows my heart going down.
It's in the bed, holding my tears tightly bound.
It was the light, which seldom shone; without a wound.
It was the life, in which I wore a bloodless crown.
But it was the death, in which I wore off a bloodful gown.
It was the jewels, which reflected all the clowns,
fighting for a shackled town.
It will be the sweat of all the widows on the ground.
And the giggling voices and tiny feet stamp with a little sound.
But it has to become a place people seeking help for lotus's wound.
A place, where mirrors are redecorated and painted with beautiful clouds.
A bed where a small family of three is found.
With lights shining, filling all the dark abyss down.
In a cool winter day
as the season begins to warm
trees are covered in a coat of white
decorated by hoarfrost
transforming it
to a beautiful winter land
as the wind gently blows
through the branches
with each puff it cascades
settling on the ground below
soon the trees become barren
the coats gently removed
only to be redecorated
on another day in winter's season.
Old peddler wanted a new home design.
He hired Mable, a decorator, and all was fine.
Until she decided to redecorate him too.
I don’t want to change he said, I am ninety-two.
Mable was forceful, she did not hear the word no.
She took lots of his money, and created some woe.
He sits outside his house now, for it reminds him of her.
A bossy overbearing woman, who felt like a bur.
Jack Frost has tossed
Green grass gone lost
He’s redecorated
Snow celebrated
As new carpet to walk