Best Rooms Poems

Written: March 05, 2025 

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As the final petal droops
upon quivering leaves,
while the soul begins to decay
akin to the evening lights 
fading into a coffin.
Tears flow quietly across vacant rooms,
sheltered in the hidden retreat, 
of a hapless fool...

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Nurse: Briefly describe your pain
Me: Ouch
Nurse: On a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?
Me: I dunno...where's your scale?
Nurse: No, no sir, on a scale...
Me: Okay!...180 butt-naked
Nurse: When was the last time you had a physical exam?
Me: Well, me and this...

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. for public domain


Where we hung our overcoats I don't remember,
or at what time winter snow fell late December,
I barely recall the living room
with the television or radio on,
snuggled in a chair, wanting weather of September.

The living room, our family's sanctuary,
where we prayed for a...

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Counting hours like chickens
     waiting to get fried
until my last pressures get
     properly denied
by that amnestic ruckus
     compelling my stride.

My revelry extracts your
     most suspicious eye
while I collect brains like I'm
     Professor Magpie
instructing the planet on
     how it ought to fly.

You wafted off on that cloud
     propelling my pride
until I cried at...

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He lived in four little rooms
locked behind the door.
And the night shined through
where a light shined before.
A red flame burned ashen gray,
lying on the floor.

So you move yourself along.
And grind on down.
And scrape the path you drag around.
Stumblin’ on the way.
A new day with no...

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 Translation of Eric Mottram’s Poem 33 in Interrogation Rooms by T. Wignesan

33.  on a vu un homme courir/ de la scène de crime un homme est maintenant en train d’aider/ la police avec leurs instruments/ devrais-je dire l’enquête criminelle/ intérrogations/ ceci fait partie...

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Let those who see fit dwell in empty rooms
Enveloped by darkness, not understood
Drenched in self-pity that loudly consumes
A world they've chosen, I care not nor would
As though their pains run deeper or longer
A blackened hood of loneliness to wear
Invisible disguise, to seem stronger
This fatal thought...

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Rooms 
            by Odin Roark

How prescient that first room
The one where under the bed
Proved private the light
Where flashlight and toy soldier
Became all that was needed

Came

The room with desk
Where locked door
Gave entrance to video games
While...

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In mind's castle many furnished rooms
In upper chamber, chaste virtue grooms
In lower chamber, strands of civility bloom
In antechamber, auxiliary dreams, visions illume
In the inner chamber, fears, insecurities subsume
In dim, adjoining corridors, venal guile do entomb
From bed chamber, hypothalamus, carnal libations spoon
In library, Prefrontal cortex, sentient...

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In the canvas of twilightish insanity
Appear pomegranate designs of passion
An intellectual dance of day flowing into night

In the sea inside skull, the heartbeats of humanity
Vibrating with   rurality towards urbanity 
Get oxidized in the lemon and salt of mundanity

No concern for the formality of...

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Space
to sleep,
bath and shave-
impersonal
void...

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listen to the moon drop silver down. hearts are out of season. and my love was hunted down, killed by the ripping of patience. pretty stars lit up by the dark. i see brilliance in your eyes. last time. skin so warm. you taste like...

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Crowded rooms, though full, know many lonely hearts.
Smiling guests mingle; laughing, dancing, they sing.
Imaginary friends strange solace imparts.
Nonetheless, loneliness grips its painful sting.
All around cupid’s arrows take aim; love starts.
Sadly, upon the friendless there is no ring.
It had happened many times over and again.
Thank God,...

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Crowded Rooms 

In and out 
     the same old rooms 
Sweeping the debris 
     with makeshift brooms, 
Knee-deep 
     in acrid fumes, 
Cluttering the corridors 
     with dusty tombs....

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These tears that pool
In the dark corners of bright rooms
Monsoons couldnt wash them away
These are the ones that define us
The ones that sit in the recesses of our minds 
Rusting away at what we think is our core
Provoking the winds that blow closed our shutters...

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