Best Rent Free Poems
My muse keeps pestering like a cenobite,
chewing my brain like a hungry parasite.
Pressuring the ink to bleed like acid rain,
catharsis to release perpetual pain.
Hiding poems that live rent free like boarders,
I'm a shadow slave refusing it's orders.
This elusive euphoria sounds absurd,
because I'm silent in my clandestine world.
My pen has froze in this salacious summer,
ignoring mental murderous moon's mummer.
My faithful muse, why don't you abandon me,
can't you see I have no time for poetry.
I've fallen free without words, feeling too deep,
please do not disturb me, I just want to sleep.
By Ezar
As snow flakes fall to cover the side walk my people get tired of the side talk
Work for me You won't be financially but at least you put a couple gifts under the tree
At least you can get your car fixed while I pull off in a new mercades
Oh ya make sure you fill out the paperwork for welfare
I will have my secretary sign it while I set by my pool in Bellaire
Have you ever been there you can smell the sweetness of success in the air
How is Jamal doing
I almost cried when I heard someone was at his school shooting
Thank goodness my son goes to the same school as the son of Patrick Ewing
You can stay in my guest house if you thinking about moving
Rent free that's the least I can do for someone who works for me
I was going to stop by but that part of town is too rough for me
I wanted you to meet my daughter she just got her masters degree
So she can take over the business after me
You know how important it is to leave a legacy
What collage is Jamal going to or is he still going to the army
I hear they pay for college tuition
I told my son its not worth it when your arms and legs missing
But I understand Jamal got to do what he got to do
Giving Jamals hand he got to move how he has to move
Well I have to go watch for the stocks on the news
See you on Monday I hope your situation improves Peace
WHEN I’M AN OLD LADY (many happy returns)
When I’m an old lady, I’ll live with my son,
To look after his mum is sure to be fun,
The joy it brings him, will thrill him to find,
He is able to share his home and be kind.
Of course I‘ll expect to live there rent free,
The same as he did when living with me.
I’ll raid the fridge, leave a mess of ice-cream,
Sneaking his chocolate, Cadbury’s white Dream.
I’ll go out with friends and party till morning,
Only come home when a new day is dawning.
After showering, I’ll leave clothes on the floor,
No one will see them, behind the closed door.
If sometimes I’m told to tidy my room,
Pick up my clothes and try using a broom,
I’ll hide everything, way under the bed,
After that effort, play loud music instead.
Whenever my friends come home with me,
I’ll suggest they all stay and have tea;
My son’s wife won’t mind, may give me a look,
I’ll prime them to tell her she’s a great cook.
His car I will use on Saturday and Sunday,
I’m sure he won’t mind, he can use it on Monday.
Not bothering to buy any petrol you see,
I’m always broke he has more money than me.
If I need extra dollars, I’ll borrow from my son,
Knowing he loves helping his kind loving mum.
I’ll forget to return it, may only be about twenty,
I doubt he would miss it, I know he has plenty.
I’ll hog the TV, by hiding the remote,
Then watch all my soapies, and silently gloat.
My son thinks he’s much smarter than me,
But I’ve been around a lot longer than he!
When I feel tired and fall asleep in my chair,
With mouth opened wide, and tussled grey hair,
I’m sure he’ll look at me with eyes almost weeping,
Thinking how peaceful it is when I’m sleeping.
…when I’m an old lady and live with my son.
Copyright © Vivien Wade 1989
Live in my heart, rent-free
Now and forever more.
Don't stay out in the cold;
Make yourself feel at home,
For its as good as gold.
Live in my heart, rent-free.
Don't knock, just come right in
To a place very safe,
To a place you belong,
To a heart that's fail safe.
Live in my heart, rent-free.
Flow into me, my sweet,
Like most gentle of streams.
My heart is a refuge;
It's where love's bright light gleams.
Live in my heart, rent-free.
There's enough room for you;
Stay as long as you wish!
You possess the sole key;
There, our love shall flourish.
Hate is a sharp inheritance.
I did not ask for it.
It grew in me like a second skeleton—
not born, but built
in the blue-lit silence after fists,
in the wreckage of rooms where my name was a curse
and my voice was a threat to authority.
My family—
a word that still makes my mouth taste like pennies—
taught me that love was conditional,
a ledger of wounds and withholding.
They told me I was nothing,
and I believed them,
until I learned that hatred could speak louder than grief.
I wore it like a crown.
No, like barbed wire—wrapped tight,
a defence that cut me while keeping others out.
I hated them so much I began to look like them.
And then I hated myself.
I set my life on fire to stay warm.
Ashes don’t judge,
and pills don’t ask where you’ve been.
Cocaine doesn’t care who you are.
It just opens its arms
and lets you forget.
I disappeared into alleys,
slept in the spaces between streetlights,
made deals with men who had eyes like broken windows
and promises stitched with rot.
I stole. I lied. I bled on floors that had no memory of me.
I called this freedom.
But it was just exile with better lighting.
I was dying—slowly, quietly,
like a candle in a room with no air—
and no one noticed.
Except the hate.
It always noticed.
It whispered, “Good.”
It wasn’t redemption that saved me.
It wasn’t a miracle.
It was exhaustion.
One day, I just got tired of being hollow.
Tired of the rage swallowing my name,
tired of the story they wrote for me
playing on repeat inside my skull.
Forgiveness didn’t come like light.
It came like water—slow, seeping through
the cracks I didn’t know were still open.
I didn’t forgive them to free them.
I forgave them so they’d stop living inside me
rent-free,
destroying the furniture of my becoming.
I started over—stone by stone,
reminding my body it was not a crime scene.
Telling my reflection:
You are not what they did to you.
You are not the bruises,
the rage,
the ache that made you use.
You are not the hate that almost won.
And now, I speak with a voice that carries weight,
not weapons.
I build with hands once taught to break.
I am living proof
that even scorched earth
can choose to bloom.
Think I heard it for the first time today.
That laugh.
Like hot chocolate on a winter day.
It felt like something that melts your heart.
A buoyant feeling,
Which makes a dying heart restart.
Are they aquamarine or ocean eyes?
Spending a second too long,
Fills your body with butterflies.
A bittersweet feeling, a poisonous state,
Like dropping from a high,
It’s a bit too difficult to wait.
Living in my head 24/7 rent free,
Hope you’re not annoyed,
Just wondering, do you ever notice me?
I'm Mephistopheles, you, my Faust
I'm to your mind what a fluorescent bulb is...
To a fly. I take perverse pleasure
In trapping you in my undertow
I'm a tireless tease that will break your will
I live in your mind, rent-free. I'm tough to evict
I'm your friend with bad intentions
Always up to mean mischief
I show no mercy to my victims, and I have...
No remorse. I couldn't care less whether
You're a person of virtue or vice
I couldn't care less about your age...
Your race; your religious or political affiliation
Once I've seized plenary control of you
My sole aim is to destroy you, and take your soul
I'm that enticing demon that tempts you...
Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day
Refusing to let you sleep or take a vacation
Wean me off at your peril
My name is addiction
Date written and posted: 05/30/2019
Interconnected, cyber psychology, we are all victims of advancement,
technological innovations pushed down our throats like harassment.
Who are they, who goes bump in the night,
metaphorical emissions, magnetic might.
Brain waves emit electrical pulses,
nano technology riding the invisible waves of caution.
The electromagnetic spectrum, neither friend nor enemy,
the infrastructure has been built, will it one day be rent free?
Dark nets, heist, scams, and piracy,
cyber wars, computer worms, electronic conspiracy.
Who dares to centralize a decentralized system,
red herrings and distributed denialism.
Your kung fu may be strong like a glass of Cognac,
but every six months a new technology is guaranteed to be hacked.
But don’t hold back, these issues creates jobs,
technological advancements, anti-pop culture mobs.
I knew him but very little
He's a father of a boy and he's homeless
I knew I had to lift him off the cold and dark streets
Took him in, helped him with a job
Rent free and everything else was on me
I encouraged him to find himself again
I wanted him to get back on his feet and be
the grown man and father like he should be
But for the love of God for seven months
He was buying heroin unbeknown to me
I treated him as a family, never asked him
for anything but to help himself
Instead my kindness was bleached out
And now his future is without my knowledge
Smile
Akkina R Downing
2-10-17
You live in my head
Never paying a cent
I pray for the day you are evicted
And as much as I try to throw you out
You drowned me in your quicksand
Pulling me under
So I can’t breathe
Your way of reminding me
That as badly as I may want it
You’ll never leave
I squeeze my head with my hands
hard enough that I leave red marks on my skin
Trying to remember the day I ever let you in
But I never did
You forced your way in
You crushed my lungs
And twisted the wires of my brain
And changed the beat of my heart
To distract me from your scheme
To give yourself just enough time
To force yourself in
Like a predator stalking its prey
You created a trail to lure me in
That is what you are you know
A predator
Through the door and down the stairs
I didn’t realize it was too late
Until I saw no one else was there
You locked the door from the outside
And no matter how much I screamed
And how much I cried
Your cynical laugh haunted my ears
Scared my brain
And created my fears
And even when I sleep with the lamp on
The darkness is too potent for me to dream
Even with all the lights on
it's not bright enough to blind me from the memories that haunt my head
I am still one of your hostages even when I go to bed
And when I wake up in the morning
And when I brush my teeth
And when I drive my car
No matter how long I drive
Deep down I know you are never far
You will always be right around the corner
Down the stairs
And through the door
Living rent-free in my head
And I will always be stuck down there
Screaming for the glorious day
Someone tells me you are daed
Quotes from the 1960 movie, Pollyanna:
Pollyanna: Why don't you come out of the front door like normal people?
Jimmy: They won't let us. I can come out anytime I want with my tree.
Pollyanna: You could also fall and hurt yourself badly. You shouldn't play in trees.
Jimmy: That's stupid. Don't you believe in God?
Pollyanna
Impregnated with positivity…relishes wide toothed smile.
Lips, cherubic-pink…so courteous…chin tilted godward.
O this angelic pekingese courts the sinner for their own good.
“Impertinent child,” man, woman, and gut, clench in good grief.
The sun rises on her, never sets — vainglorious retch.
Still…crystal illumination twinkles rainbows and puppy dogs.
In the big house, rent free, Pollyanna roams the rooftop.
What - sneaking out! Can’t be. Jimmy coaxes her down the tree.
Her aunt’s an awful louse, forcing her down. Breakneck landing!
Daddy, the preacher died, leaving her legacy, unkind.
Black and white, no insight, everything will be alright - but it’s not.
A forest vigil of candlelight - flames reach to the highest height.
She does her best to tamp the flames - aims to feel sorry for herself.
Hurts worse than she can imagine…her doubts, her pride…she hides.
Yup…she has the whole town spinning…their sinning ways, trimming.
Impregnated with a gulp, this blue-eyed, bow-tied, Pollyanna.
They shut her up but good. Her goodness flew. Hit them in the pie hole.
With wicked widespread grins, they cheer the impertinent snipe.
9/24/2021
Sijo
Six Days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas my MP had for free:
A partridge with all the trimmings.
It didn’t come from Aldi
On the second day of Christmas my MP had on me:
Two vintage Champagnes, a partridge with all the trimmings
And nothing came from Aldi
On the third day of Christmas my MP had on me:
Three Harrod’s Hampers, two vintage Champagnes,
A partridge with all the trimmings
And nothing came from Aldi.
On the fourth day of Christmas my MP had on me:
Four new suits, three Harrod’s hampers, two vintage champagnes
A partridge with all the trimmings,
And nothing came from Aldi
On the fifth day of Christmas my MP had on me:
Five houses rent free!! four new suits, three Harrod’s hampers,
Two vintage Champagnes, a partridge with all the trimmings
And nothing came from Aldi.
On the sixth day of Christmas the MPs did to me:
Lied through their teeth
Raised inheritance tax,
Froze all the pensioners,
Put thousands out of work
Crippled the economy
Cancelled local elections
Gave 50 million to terrorists
While I ate a sandwich from Aldi.
David Cox 22/11/2022
“Now then, may I ask a question?” sounds pretty ugly.
It’s almost exactly perplexing as a calculated error,
Or an easy problem posed by that living fossil of a teacher.
Most students with an apathetic interest would agree to disagree
That the quantum leap required to solve this needs an indecisive decision that less is more.
Then there’s that timeless moment when the student teacher,
With their unbiased opinion about modern history, states
“We came second best in Vietnam”, when military intelligence reports
We left the place completely unfinished.
You can hear the silent scream from each kid
In the small crowd, who’d rather be in front of their rent free
Reality T.V. watching the science fiction,
The Living Dead.
But with change being the only constant it’s fairly accurate to say
the new tradition for adult children of today
is to expect surprises.
They don’t wear plastic sunglasses and listen to soft rock with passive aggressive
“Sounds of silence” anymore.
As long as people remember they’re each unique
And they have no choice to believe in their own free will
Then it’s O.K. they each stand alone, together,
And have the same differences. They each can be as famous as the unknown soldier.
The souls of the Damned in Perdition
Oft complain of their hellish conditions.
“TV reception is bad,
There’s no WiFi to be had,
And there's talk of starting a petition!”
And added a lost soul named Hershel,
(Though some deemed this too controversial):
“Plus we demand a refund
For the Oprah reruns
And all the ’Hair Club for Men’ infomercials.”
Said the landlord, “Guys, I hear all your pleas.
You think brimstone and pitchforks are free?
Things are tough all around,
‘Specially here underground.
And you do get to stay here rent-free.”
You live eternally in my heart, it will forever be rent free
Beauty may be skin deep, so why is yours drowning me?
My limitless adoration of you, may be maddening to see
But with you in the same asylum, never will we be lonely
Loving you is like stirabout, it is made fresh every day I be
Consume it with brazen dates, for in them my loves decree