Best Sale Poems
I have always been alone
I have always been the lonely one
In the corner, quiet and silent
Inside of dreams to come
So with determination
I build and build and build
Possessions compounding
Wealth is the only scorecard I know
Now, it’s amassed, and I have it all
So with pride and confidence
I do what anyone should
I must purchase a possession of my desire
I read in the paper of a sale very fine
A Garage sale of many old antiques divine
Within it all is treasure so very deep
A broken heart of golden hopes
I am not sure how one goes about
Such a purchase, of infinite value
I am succumbed with depression and sadness
For all my wealth
I have not the currency to buy this heart
So I burned my money that very night
I learned, there is another currency of delight
I wrote words and music and poetic verse
My Snow White she refuses to awake
Even my heart at the bone it shakes
Vaso the empty vessel of life
Learned there is no currencies at all
To acquire a broken heart
My Heart
Used
Still beats
My Heart
Low mileage
Over rocky roads
My heart
In vaulted box
Shipping included
No strings attached
Gary's Yard Sale, the story
Authored by Chuck Keys
Among the rustbelt cities of yesterday,
Along the edges of the Detroit River,
A short distance to the side,
Resides a slice of Victorian times,
Excesses exceeded needed,
Where age confronts time,
The day before meets the day of,
And greets tomorrow.
Those in the hood
And outside,
Meet and greet among
The scraps of forgotten memories.
Lawns filled with bygones of size,
Tables filled with important somethings,
Maybe everythings,
For important that evolved into history.
Where memories become linked,
Each to a stored thought,
Treasured, pleasured or disdained,
To a person,
Of late or present,
To a future of who knows what.
During the day,
The history-of and the future-of talk,
To each,
Of where they were,
And where they hope to be,
The dust is blown off with the wind,
From the east, west, north and south.
The yard sale, the graveyard of the past,
The arena of the present,
Life and death of the sale,
Dance together, coupled,
Where Mine, becomes Yours' while
Gary the Conductor, orchestrates to perfection,
The operatic enjoyment of history,
Buyer meets seller, exchanges
Are made. As is today.
Bravo! Bravo!
*This poem is dedicated to Gary and Ann Harris of Northville MI USA – May they and
their Yard Sales age forever!
© Charles H Keys, 2010. All Rights Reserved. V1.4.09252010
Yard Sales are the
Macy’s of Saturday shopping,
On a budget that fits in my coin purse.
written for contest
07/27/2019
From here to wherever, I'll follow a yard sale sign,
it's a past time endeavor, for my collective state of mind,
I may buy some furniture, or a trinket for a dime,
yard saling is a pleasure, yes, a personal hobby of mine,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
and it gives me great joy, to see a yard sale sign,
from here to wherever, cloudy days or sunshine,
I'm searching for that treasure, ain't no telling what I'll find,
I may find brand new things, boots, shoes, or clothes the right size,
silver and gold chains or rings, or an antique will catch my eyes,
I could find my brother a nice bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
or maybe a nice piece of furniture, or something for a friend of mine,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
and it gives me great joy, to see a yard sale sign,
It's a past time endeavor, for my collective state of mind,
Yard saling is a pleasure, ain't no telling what I"ll find,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, I just spotted a yard sale sign,
searching is a pleasure, ain't no telling what I'll find,
I may find an old bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
now one thing is for sure, I just found my cat a ball of twine,
and look here, I found my ol' dog a bone to grind,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
I may find an old bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
from here to wherever, cloudy days or sunshine,
I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, ain't no telling what I'll find,
Hey Bud, how much for that there what-cha-ma-call-it?
Naw Naw, Naw, that there thing-a-ma-jig, there next to that do-ma-flitchie,
Yea, Yea, that thinga-ma-jig right there.....ya say three dollars..um-m-m..OK...
I'll take it...here ya go.....and how much for that do-daddy over there?
Yea, yea, right next to those 2 onion skin tires...Uh Huh..yea..well I'll be..
Well yea..I'll take it too...it's something I just can't live without...ha ha ha..
Brother for sale.
I'll deliver him too.
I can send in the mail,
Wrapped in yellow or blue.
He's water potty-trained now,
But that can change in a day.
He'll be bundled with Oreos,
So he can eat on the way.
I can mail him by truck, car, or plane.
He's coming with stuff, his favorite toy train.
He's coming character-recommended, highly by me.
He's a pretty good brother, who is almost three.
We need him back when you get him trained.
We simply cannot seem to get through to his little brain.
That when he has to poop, hiding is no good.
Please train him to use the potty with solids, if you could.
Then send him back, to his crazy, loving home.
And this shall be the end of this tiny poem.
The residents will soon be moving.
There is lots of miscellaneous and
still useable items.
Some old growth redwoods
and fishable seas, some
breathable air
and unpolluted shores,
bargains galore so
don't hesitate
to make an offer.
All prices are negotiable
and everything must go.
Saturday, from 9-5, please,
no earlies.
Earth, the nearest cross-street
is Milky Way.
On a sale, my Aunt Bel can’t be denied
Access to mark-downs with red, yellow tags
Off for the big loot, her shoulders take pride
In carrying four gigantic tote-bags.
To keep poised, she dons fancy sunglasses
Like those models who shop but then conceal,
A giddy look that excites the senses
Obsessed about offers… Aunt’s set to reel.
Hurrying to snatch branded teenage jeans
Which do not fit her extra large belly;
She picks a bimbo hat, dye, and face-creams
As twinkling eyes roll … what a joyful spree.
While purchases are arranged , now she whines
The Mall’s closing with a long queue that’s packed
Bel groans,” I'm dizzy; my breathing's not fine,”
She gets ahead… feigning a heart attack!
Humorous Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Thomas Martin
T h e S a l e
Near the end of a lonely road
A home where an old man did reside
Traffic parked all around the house
Contents "For Sale", - the sign implied
"He'd lived there as long as he could, -
Ninety four years", I heard someone say
Immediate family, now passed on
At last, now he has moved away
For decades, this had been his home
How sad, he had to go
Feeble hands, prevented tasks
And steps were getting slow
Furniture, battered, worn and aged
Old radios, fans, and silverware
Used garden tools, and books galore
Some ordinary, but others rare
So many items, inside and out
In their time, each held their place
Now little more than a cast-a-way
His new address, had little space
I'm sure within his memory bank
Many younger days he recalled
A telephone, - - the first TV,
Or when a furnace, was installed
Only a few items, now adorn
The place he now abides
A bed, a chair,and one small table
A few special pictures, are his pride
There to live out his final days
Lonely hours, seem to have no end
A highlight that would mean the most,
Is a visit from family, - or a friend
Colan L Hiatt = 09-24-13
© All Rights Reserved
its white corlor bright
its wide
has map guild
over ride the tide
good or bad weather
will not fail
flow like a wale
this
BOATS ON SALE
i
Space for sale
Let me spell out our position
Earth is certainly running out of space,
no obligation it’s your decision
so my friend get ahead of the inevitable race,
we are offering a new world among the stars
a place for the future, luxury in Venetian red
grab this opportunity, new life on wonderful Mars
planet earths resources running out, soon be dead,
we will be with you throughout the process
for all of yours and your family’s needs
any worries or concerns we will certainly address
your chance to live on a planet that exceeds,
we can’t emphasise enough how important
that you consider your family’s future,
unfortunately Earth will soon be dead, dormant
move to Mars take charge become a ruler.
so we advise you not to delay
for a price that doesn’t cost the Earth
sign on the dotted line today,
it’s what you deserve, it’s what you’re worth.
3/2/2018
Contest:- advertisement: sell something make us want it.
Sponsored by Lewis Rayners.
I climb into the big haymow
On this eventful day
Looking for childhood memories
Trapped in a mound of hay.
The large expanse is empty now
And somehow looks too small
To have held all the busy times
Now sweet in my recall.
It took a lot of sweat to get
From hot hayfield to mow
And then some more to pitch hay down
To feed each horse and cow.
Horses and cattle are all gone,
Mama and Daddy too.
It's time for selling off the past
And starting life anew.
I hear them coming, clamber down.
It's time to sell the barn.
It will be moved, the very last
Of Dad and Mother's farm.
The land will go to buyers who
Will break it into lots.
The only farming then will be
In little garden plots.
Entered in Rambling Poet contest
Inspired by her poem "The House"
Shrunken sweaters, dusty ball caps
Tarnished silver, and hedge clippers
Pointed hat pins, gaudy jewelry
Faded jeans and worn out slippers
Greasy fry pan, wobbly table
Crates of dog-eared musty books
Tattered doilies, ragged Barbies
One brown old crock pot that still cooks
Rusty shovel, dented buckets
Ma's old apron, broken dishes
Dated calendar, crooked lampshade
Chipped glass bowl for all your fishes
Ugly painting, candle holders
One old bike for exercising
Broken TV, toaster oven
Doesn't work....it's not surprising!
What's the point?" our husbands mutter
While we fill the garage with clutter
I explain to him..."She buys mine, and I buy hers"
"What's the point of shopping stores??!"
"Now...don't you know the grass is greener?"
"OH GOOD!" "She's bought my vacuum cleaner!"
Just then I point across the street!!
Another yard sale.....and we both shriek!!
He points at me and shakes his fist
But I'll just ignore and toss a kiss
And side by side I'm in a race...
Who gets there first will buy that vase!!
Whoopee!!! I spy a broken chair...well, I can glue it!
Just hope she doesn't beat me to it!
Another point about my purchase
Perhaps I can use it for another purpose
Oh No!!...he's found old tool collections!!
And points at them with great affection!!
The point I'm making is simply this
Another's person's trash or junk, may soon become your bliss!
Manipulate the wordolator
spin it swirl it make it cater
to your whims and what you wanted
your no dreamer, you are haunted
you can't stop the rhyme you started
tell the truth you're broken hearted
send that through the wordolator
it comes out 10 seconds later
dressed in diamonds and confetti
right on course and feeling steady
pour life in the wordolator
add some spices, check it later
smooth and silky is the taste
don't let feelings go to waste
turn them into something greater
send them through the wordolator
Have you suffered past and present?
Is xistence so unpleasant?
Mold it, form it, paint it red
have it say what must be said
tears and joy and life and death
every daring, dancing breath
breathed by soldiers, kings and waiters
breathe them through the wordolator
it distills the very essence
of the living luminescence
that unites our human feeling
deep emotions send us reeling
Taker, giver, lover, hater , all
can use the wordolator. Just a dollar now on line
Money back if it's not fine.
Buy it now and Pay us later
you will love the wordolator
I'm thinning out some things of mine
I do not want or need
Some for sale some for trade
Most of it is free
My poisonous relationships
They gave me fits and rashes
All the bridges that I burned
Well, there's the can of ashes
Wishes are a dime a dozen
Believe me there are plenty
You can have my broken dreams
And thoughts are just a penny
This box of nickels is dirt cheap
They're all made of wood
A pack of lies that I bought
Some are pretty good
There used to be some happiness
It seems to be misplaced
I lost some time that I was given
But most just went to waste
These mirrors with smoke, a pig in a poke
A hook, line, and sinker
All came free with my insurance
From unscrupulous hood-winkers
My policy is "No returns"
I hope you'll understand
If you're like me then you'll agree
This junk's still in demand
national poetry competition entry under my pen name "poemdog"