Best Rolodex Poems
A lady who loves oral sex
Took to bed 3 cowboys named, "Tex"
One was well-hung
One for his tongue
And the third for his Rolodex
Categories:
rolodex, relationship,
Form:
Limerick
Warmly dedicated to SMJ
Three Sonnets Inspired by my
Reigning Ex
Part 0
Sitting at the edge of the universe
like a man atop a modern skyscraper
who might look down to see the manic street
full of yellow taxis and distant peers,
the first thing I notice on a backwards
glance is my snake-skin mortality
shed and skipping across the flattened ether,
a luminous orb on a linear course
like a puddle-hopping pebble, eager
to sink a lily-pad a child targets
for the hell of it. I realize then - either
I’m dead as a god should be, or just a pet
project of a German ghost, his meager
objective merely my way to forget.
Part I
Before you bed me, I assume the herpes
risk you ignored so many turn-style clicks
so many thick-like quick-strike Rolodex entries
not so long ago made that cavalry slicks
and right-swept Tinder mounts dutifully
saddled have begun their bountiful itch.
A testament, truly, of how beautifully
done was every each one, each surgical stitch
precisely sewn to salvage squeeze-box juice
of battle-field strewn, the red zest of life
a dead soldier blew, is once more, for you,
stalling to flow; knowing your rusty knife
has yet to slice temptation sterilized;
knowing your scalpel’s cut keeps cancer canonized.
Part II
All around you, this kelp-wall compartment
appears an ocean bloomed with room enough
for early light to shuffle halfway bent,
like time’s unpolished hedge, across the rough
field where too young have men gone to die.
Someone is responsible for all of it:
The ghostlike fish who grimly swim upstream;
the crunchy autumn leaves all creased and clustered;
and this, the box you loathe in sleepless dream
of birthday cakes and candles your grandfather
fed the wish-away lawn using mustered
strength from tears his daughter leaked, sprung to lie,
who now only cries at her daughter’s grave,
complaining of stubble when Pawpaw shaves.
Categories:
rolodex, girlfriend,
Form:
Sonnet
***
-------------------------------------
Wondering memories of wild adolescence,
Flash before me like a mental Rolodex
Reverberating daze,
Time cannot take away.
A fifteen–year–old,
Broken neck calypso.
Gazing through the jungle-o window
Unequipped to fathom what was about to happen.
I saw the moon in your eyes,
And knew;
You smile in the way that islands do,
And the zephyrs planned to bring your love back to me, too.
You were everything I imagined.
Sunlight on a dismal day,
The lone palm in the tropic heat,
A boyish grin that made my flowers bloom;
You were the Cabin Boy.
Realizing, all you can be at 23
is yourself.
And I am the wanderer's wandering daughter.
The pretty little minor that comes hell or high water,
You broke California law for.
I waited at your f i n g e r
t
i
p
s
Just his little Pisces jailbait.
Who didn't exist till 1996.
An inevitable source of panic that would rise in his eyes
Every time he kissed,
Her Kona lips.
Until deciding he had to leave,
Claiming island fever, on his way out the back door.
Lost as a half-gone waning moon.
With only the ocean’s waves continuous roar
Sunburnt, white foam, salt spray,
Condemned - to an inevitable end
Unable to prevail past the break at your soul's cliff edge.
I grab a raft to float;
In the deep waters of the heart.
Somewhere in between the no -
longer & the still -
to-come
Washed upon my soul’s sand.
Reaching out with new green shoots -
Resurrecting the chthonic biome
From deep within the molten core
Till the blocky incline fell away,
And I found myself;
On the surface of a lake of solidified lava.
Categories:
rolodex, first love, for him,
Form:
Free verse
3/12/16 3:54:37 A.M.
That Sound
My body vibrates
Chills run up and down my spine
Saying hello
She cries down
The world lights up above
What more must I ask
Betrayed by her tears
The ground seems to rise
I'm again knee deep
I attempted to say I'm sorry
for what I know not
She continues to scream
Now to my waist
I go to my mental Rolodex
A memory comes back
Tears coming in my Home
Salt I can smell
Heart breaking from a sound...
Categories:
rolodex, absence, abuse, anger, smile,
Form:
Personification
silence rules the night
shadows move about
rain falls like tears
weeping wind bows to
no one
yesterday has been packed away
tiny boxes and envelopes
stored in the unsuspecting minds
of the lost between you and i
finding it hard to find my way home
overtook the moving day
cluttered thoughts of you
is stored in this fog escaping the end
more shadows become new
separating the gifts of life
who's ?
in this darkness i can see
over come by the dense fog i can feel
the fact that nothing is said is my fear
i want to declare my innocence
silence is the night that hold the deafening
screams of death of yesterday
snugged away in there rightful places
counted and numbered perfectly composed
file cabinet, rolodex eyes finding it's part
who's part or what part is mine?
silence rules the night
Categories:
rolodex, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
I'M A PACIFIST AND WILL KILL THE FIRST
PERSON WHO SAYS I'M NOT
The moon was in the center of the sky when I heard her scream
so she told me about her horrible dream
it is a venture I am forbidden to describe to anyone
but it involved and ex-lover, tears and a gun
the gun, in her dream, was as real as my friend freds
and in the dream someone ended up dead
who died is something I cannot reveal
all I can say is the dream to her was ultra real
so I heard her scream in the middle of the night
she doesn't remember what she told me about fright
my sweet put it out of her mind and Rolodex
and if her dream had been real he would be more than her ex
I would have stood up for my lover even if she was wrong
because i'll bet you dollars to donuts he's not that strong
let me meet him in the street somewhere someday
and her dreams like that one will fade away
© 2012....PHREEPOETREE...~free cee!~
Categories:
rolodex, angst, me, dream, dream,
Form:
Quatrain
What the hell did I do..
This question posed aggressively
now in my conscious mind.
I bury my head in my knees,
and sob relentlessly asking why,
and mumbling man you really did it this time.
Party at my place he screams,
and Man you don’t ever stop by.
These images scroll the Rolodex of my subconscious side.
Try this it will make you feel great!
You’ll have no worries for at lest the next eight.
Doesn’t that sound great!
That’s when it hit me,
like a shot straight through the heart.
I parted my metaphoric sea shore,
my arms, my legs, they are the oars.
Swimming through the blue abyss,
always watching close for shore.
Then little by little always needing more,
and more.
The hours and days went by,
oh my god how I was high.
My euphoric mind never pressed for time,
no matter the dime.
Clouds on the horizon a thunderous sky.
It was even getting late,
and the moon began to pull at the tide.
Looking back I see this was going to be a very long ride.
Pushing forward toward the shore,
limb for limb, tired and sore.
Screaming, hurry up and get here,
where out, and have got to have more.
Then the lighting began to show it’s power,
and the wind had the waves in a roar.
The rain stinging torn & chapped skin.
I began to lose consciousness, now at a merciless Drift.
Pulled way out,
fast and swift.
Their would be few that would adore.
As they wonder how long,
before I’d wash back ashore.
What the hell did I do..
This question,
posed aggressively now
in my conscious mind.
Categories:
rolodex, confusion, depression, forgiveness, introspection,
Form:
Prose Poetry
invite over your friend with a green thmumb
invite over your friend who writes in their own journal
invite over someone who sews
someone who sings
someone who can act
and another that can tell a joke
one who knows how to decorate
make sure you have active company to entertain all your guests
keep all your gusts in a rolodex and contact them a few years later
on a more business level
invite over the interior decorator
invite over the cake decorator
invite over the novelist and artist
have your pictures done by the photograpgher
talk about awards won by comedic plots
and toats over utopian ideals
and back in the rolodex the new contacts go
the recipe for success of hotels and business
broken down for the chucky cheeses
of those on the outskirts of those who know what is actually going on in the game of life
the faux pas of which faux pas
and the slam glammor of bubble glam and the blitz of the honoured
Categories:
rolodex, philosophy, visionaryfriend,
Form:
Free verse
An unmade bed smothered in pillows
The corners of the quilt brushed onto the
Floor sprinkled in kitty litter and cat hair
Shoes cluttered around throughout the entire
Length of the studio brought out from
The closet after the closet got straightened
Cockroaches peaking their heads out from
Time to time checking the cat food bowls
And scurrying when sensing any motion
Unused wires, foot fungus spray, speakers
A dog chain, empty picture frames,
Luggage bags, and a key board all in reach
The spin inside air conditioning vents
So loud it quiets the sounds that shout
From the street during morning rush hour
Only one lamp that blazes light into the Ceiling,
Its scream driving brightness into every corner
Of the space bouncing off glossy white walls
the lack of space cramps my imagination, but
solitude is the only way I’ll have enough
creativity to express conditions and reason
the filthy disarray squashes comfort
but starbucks would feel impersonal
and unpleasant, the busy clouding focus
As I write I dream of the perfect place
To create that is broad and sane as if
I could be better with a bigger space
I search my mental rolodex to see
If I have any rich friends that could
Let me borrow their living room
or even a patio and I picture feeling
relief enough to inspire greater work
and I see myself writing well
I look at the poorly folded gym shirt
And the empty cherrios box
Left on the counter 10 feet away
I ask myself, would my work better
if I could have live this short day dream?
Maybe someday I’ll find out, but for now…
Categories:
rolodex, poetry, writing,
Form:
My beauty transcends your comprehension of who I really be
Seeking to categorize me within your rolodex of previous victims
Sensing, smelling da insecurities of a broken man
I laugh
Hatred, venom reeking from your core as you watch Me
Celebrating my curvaceous lusciousness
No longer enslaved wit da unrealistic version of who I’m suppose to
Be
Look
Weigh
My beauty distinctively embedded
Inside of me
Growing like the tsunami tidal wave
See you can’t handle the truth of who I really be
So just love
Me
This is a shout out to all you men who feel like you have to break
women down because of your own personal insecurities
love us just as we love you
Categories:
rolodex, introspectionbeauty, beauty,
Form:
Light Verse
If you ever espy a latitudinally
and longitudinally challenged
older yet shopping savvy woman,
(wedded to yours truly
for almost twenty six years),
who stands approximately
four feet and ten inches
a strong hunch that gal
stacks up as mine missus,
she dons costumed headwear
to avoid station identification,
whenever she steps out
into the public limelight
anywhere outside these four walls
of our one bedroom apartment
here within bucolic Schwenksville,
the town that town forgot,
and the decades could not improve,
where all the women good looking,
the men strong, and the children
wise to the ways of technology.
When this logophile
quite a few pounds lighter
ever since I first became acquainted
with unnamed aforementioned woman,
she adopted predilection to don apparel
allowing, enabling, and providing
modus operandi to present herself incognito.
Ofttimes said spouse of mine
upon returning from
grocery shopping spree
(ever price conscious of various
and sundry commestibles -
with a knick knack paddy whack
give this doggone husband
a plant based NON GMO bone),
she can rattle off the prices
of targeted items on her mental rolodex
how much food cost at:
ALDI, GIANT, LIDL, WEGMANS...
While scurrying to and fro
hither and yon,
a stranger might unexpectedly
pay a compliment to iterated getup,
which bobbin noggin makes her
easy to identify, when yours truly
tags along, (but despite
being considerably taller
by almost twelve inches),
these spindleshanks of one
sentient, ship shaped,
shanghaied, salubrious,
slithering, snakish, stuttering,
sluggish, smashface scarred,
sober, solitary, sangfroid
skidamarink singing, Shamokin
speaking scrivener, scuzzy,
spunky, starved, submissively
suicidal, sunburned, senseless
salaried shuffling senescent
snoutish soundcloud shutterflying
snapchatting schnorrer
find impossible mission
to keep pace with the wife.
Categories:
rolodex, character, color, cute, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
He had come in all banged up.
I normally lust after the tall ones, and he is relatively short --
Having just returned from a weekend of Mixed Martial Arts,
His left eye was swollen.
He had a bruise across his right cheek bone. But he was smiling.
He was smiling, and happy, and kind, and gentle,
brought in freshly made frittatas:
“You know he’d do it.
“But Katie’s a nice woman. She really is a great woman.
I love her. I absolutely love her.”
I want him to slam me against the bathroom wall,
tear off my clothes,
restrain my arms and have his way with me.
It would be so easy.
So easy for such a quick, cheap thrill.
It is winter, after all
(Too cold for roller coasters).
I roll it around, taste it on my tongue.
“Oh,that Katie, you would love her. I miss her. She’s just the happiest, cutest little thing”
I’m too old for that. I’m thirty now. I have morals now. I have morals.
I tell her so,
Tell her! --
Tell her I have morals! --
I finger his card in my Rolodex,
Make note of the ten-digit number.
Categories:
rolodex, passion, work, love, ,
Form:
Prose Poetry
as I wander on this beach
alone with my thoughts
that are so deep
thinking about a path to take
contemplating all that’s left
putting mistakes in the past
lessons learned and filed away
to be recalled when needed
an accordian file of those I’ve hurt
a rolodex of pain received
I face the future
not with a clean slate
I reflect on what will be
an obscure crystal ball
dictated from the power above
the high tides and green grass
Categories:
rolodex, introspection
Form:
Free verse
He wore his big gaudy oversize rolex
Chewing on some tex-mex with his ex
Forever flipping through his rolodex
On the phone with gents and rednecks
He’d invite his clientele to a fashion vortex
On the main floor of his triplex
Where he sold suits in the annex
And quality unisex turtlenecks
In exchange for cash and cheques
When he’d run out he’d offer rainchecks
Or start showing off some fancy crewnecks
Everything to get noticed at discotheques
AP: 3rd place 2021
Posted on April 9, 2019
Categories:
rolodex, character, clothes, dance, image,
Form:
Monorhyme
she has sent
me so many
photographs
some i see
to cry others
i want to laugh
but she sent me
one hundred but
truly three times that
when i want a look
i don't pick and choose
i spin them as a rolodex
i never know what
the heck to expect
i open them then
review
but the most i've
found perhaps
profound
those photos
oh so relaxed
and readying
to sleep
i hold
dear
to my heart
and keep
my own
she seems
eyes closed
tight and always
sleeping
Categories:
rolodex, muse,
Form: