Best Sit Poems
I sit on the toilet...
planning my choice of clothing,
hairstyle, makeup and daily chores.
Using my eyeliner for writing
a reminder to myself on the toiletpaper,
and make me complete.
Leaving the bathroom aware that
I used my reminder and flushed it down
the toilett.
HMMMM, what was my daily chores...?
_____
/ \
(____/\ )
|___ U? (____
_\L. | \ ___
/ /"""\ /.-' | |\ |
( / _/u | \___|_)_|
\ | \ \ / / \_(___ __)
| \ \ / / | | |
| ) _/ / ) | |
_\__/.-' / ___( | |
_/ __________/ \ | |
/ / / ( ) | |
( \__ |___\ \______ /_ l____ |
\ (___\ |______ )_/
\ |\ \ \ /
\ | \__ ) ) ___/
\ \ )/ /__ (
__ | / _//___| \_________
_/ ( / OUuuu \
` ---- ' (____________)
I’m staring at the reflection in the mirror -
who is the lady with the grey hair?
Today a strange man came to visit me
I do not recognise him …
He says he is my son
I try hard to remember as we talk about the past
He shows me photographs of his childhood years
Memories come back to me; I sob bleeding tears
Dementia is robbing me, my recall is fading fast
That man has now gone
Saying he will visit soon
Tears flow from my eyes
Trapped in my own little world
I sit sobbing silently
Kimo and Tanka checked with how many syllables
Challenge one write Contest Sponsored by Broken Wings
08~31~16
Why don't we escape
all the chaos
in this noisy world?
For a fistful of
precious moments,
let's just sit
side by side
out in the open,
completely silent.
Let's gaze at the sky
in the gloaming
as it gradually
changes hue.
Let's watch the day
age together,
marveling
at birds flying high,
blades of grass
waving in the wind.
Join me in...
this sweet surrender
unperturbed;
seeking respite
in tranquility.
Let's keep still
like Buddhist monks,
concentrating...
on the lone goldfish
on that fish tank
inside our minds.
Submitted for...
Anacreontic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Date written: 04/11/2021
I sit myself down
where one could hear a pin drop . . .
poetry clamors
aug 31, 2019
for Silent One's Silence Contest
Come sit awhile with me
Love is a serenade of the soul
a harmony that never grows old.Quote ~ poets own
* * *
Won't you come and sit awhile with me
here beneath the weeping willow tree
Take a rest and let your mind be free
of pain, distress and anxiety.
The willow weeps to see true love part
and is a shelter for broken hearts
A safe haven of serenity
to restore shattered tranquility.
Come listen and hear the sweet birdsong
release the hurt you've felt for so long
Tears will help heal the sorrow and pain
allowing your heart to sing again.
One day it won't ever sting at all
only the tenderness you'll recall
For nothing is lovelier, it's true
than a love that meant so much to you.
Treasure the first whispered "I Love You"
Keep it near and dear, forever do
The melody of love's sweet refrain
worn like a beautiful golden chain.
If only shared kisses could be kept
they would overfill a treasure chest
Every one a precious diamond gem
part of the love that they represent.
Memories are truly heaven blessed
moments far too precious to forget
Warming one's heart in so many ways
in beautiful dreams of yesterdays.
19th January 2021
* * *
Completely Your Choice (46) any theme any form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
*
[Hymnal Measure Structure, a4,b3,c4,d3 with internal rhyme]
Come sit by my side, my sweet August bride,
We’ll speak of the things we hold dear.
Of wind in the trees and fire in their leaves
At our favorite time of the year.
Don’t you remember how deep in December
We’d listen to snow softly falling?
Though faint in the ear its message was clear,
A breeze from up north had come calling.
I wish there were more than just these twenty-four
Hours to spend in a day.
Then we’d go far, our guide the North Star,
And surely—at length—find our way.
But what to do until then, my dear, treasured friend,
As hope’s often met with dismay.
Hearing all the day’s news and questionable truths,
The will to do good goes astray.
So let’s run and hide, my wise August bride
To a place that no one can find.
On a mist-covered shore we’ll be happy once more,
As we leave the real world far behind.
5th Place, Any Poem Goes, Poet Destroyer A
Those who are now elderly sit and reminisce
of sweet idyllic days which often they miss.
Sitting as families in beaming abodes
whilst a flickering fire dances and glows
Cosy nights in with cards and knitting
and days in the garden, weather permitting.
Snakes and ladders with family members
bed time when fire burns to smouldering embers
At school they were eager and behaved well
parting from friends with kind farewell
walking home with no worries or cares
helping with tea, then bed after prayers.
Yes, they love to recall memories of times
they learned stories and recited rhymes.
Played games with balls and skipping ropes
grew up with imagination, dreams and hopes
Now the old are found to sit and moan
at the new technology they are shown
the transportation speeding past
how times have progressed much too fast
What happened to appreciating what you got
being thankful despite not receiving a lot
Now seized by temptation, money and greed
today we're consumed by the need to succeed
The loud and so-called 'unique' youth
appear as disorderly, rude and uncouth
the bright, colourful and distinct attire
Is received as offensive, obnoxious and dire
Teenagers walking in packs of elite
music blasting with no rhythm or beat
the old will avoid and cross the road
feeling hostile on return to their abode
The clashes in cultures cause opposition
juveniles grow with too much ambition
thoughts consumed with riches and fame
money, films, music and fashion to blame
little time for families, never mind schools
displaying no respect and breaking rules
What happened to growing with parents as guide?
what happened to strolling in the countryside?
(Austin, Texas, 1955)
I see in a bus
All the black faces in the back
All the white faces in the front
I’m neither white nor black!
Where do I sit?
Greyhound bus station
I see two signs
‘Whites Only’
‘Blacks Only’
I’m neither white nor black!
Which one do I use?
Ask a bus attendant
He scratched his head
And smiled
‘Go to the wall
Between two doors’
Then he tapped my back
And said
Either is OK with me
Young man
FIFTY YEARS LATER
I visited Austin
No more black faces
Sitting in the back
No more
‘Blacks Only’ ‘Whites Only’ signs
I didn’t have to ask
‘Where do I sit?’
‘Where do I go?’
Most households have in USA pets
A hundred million cats and dogs
Other pet types include
Aquarium fish and bird
Most content in home environments.
I got discontent with a content cat
We turn to friends or neighbors
For help to short timer
Or to pet-care giver
All options, not optimal for each pet.
I became that short timer option
My friend wished to go to Ukraine
I pet-sitted for his cat
Gave me care-taking note
Of her keeps, her daily medicine.
Giving transdermal med into her ear
And she bit the crap out of my ear
Can’t call friend back or a vet
Used third option instead
Sent her to professional care taker.
=============================
Contest: Pet-Sit Panics in Honor of Sharon Tideswell
Oh! How I despise dawn’s blushing optimism
and dried hydrangea blooms sepia skinned and papery thin.
Humdrum hands beat doldrums drum.
Why won’t the summer solstice light this darkness?
A gnawing hollow where my heart should be.
Where cinder clouds float in negative space
memories collect like nesting sparrows beneath eaves.
I stray, a waif lost with my armful of loss.
Your death did steal my breath and heartbeat like a thief
while October’s wind trembled aspens like harp strings.
(Ten Poem Titles)
The Corruption Of My Lust For Life
Autumn Side Of September
Mundane Matters Of Mortals
Theft Of My Will To Survive
In Woes And Throes Of Sorrow
A Vanilla Dove
Escape Of The Bluesman’s Song
The Sham Of My Humanity
Death Is The Bane Of My Existence
The Shedding Trees Of Autumn
Pensive is what I think
for I have given her a smile
But received nothing in return
Deep I thought, possibly an artist,
A writer, a philosopher, a teacher, a mom.
She probably has a million things happening.
If I sat down and said hi, it would be rude.
If I brought her food or a drink
She might be frightened.
So I sit on this side of the room
Where we are both comfortable,
Studying her, taking notes.
I am doing a little character sketch
and a full poem, for she has a lovely face.
Deep in thought, I do not see or hear her leave.
Still I sit here staring
Sitting there in open form…breathing,
savoring a moment that claims the eyes
Collecting thoughts in a simmering row
of pasted visions on the curtains of a smile…
claiming nothing out of the sort
~fingers dance the moonlight
along a sleepless trail
pecking seems the order
as endings never fail~
Glowing like an ember fused,
beneath a mantle trimmed and shorn
Hidden in the lonely darkness
once presented in a cluttered dream
of pine cone cushions
and wicker trimmed French kisses
~words of stained glass meanings
in shadows on the pew
shaped to form the pattern
as light evades the view~
Groans of indecision
plague this page, smudged and weary,
scribble in fury and folded neatly
Edges meet in distracting lines
on crossword clues reaching down
across the face of what I have done
~ink it merely scratches
the surface of the night
still I sit here staring
with nothing left to write~
I sit with you,
My hand rests on your shoulder.
I read my book
While you sleep restlessly,
You have no clue.
The night is getting colder,
You have that look
of age-old tiredness sleeping,
of pain and hurt,
of hours of fruitless weeping.
I sit with you,
My voice a soothing rhythm.
I recitate
My poems, my lines for you
It's seeping through
Your troublesome subconscious,
inner debate...
Your eyes open so slightly.
I will be here,
I'll sit here in this chair,
And create words
To paint your world lightly
And colourful,
With butterflying flutter
Pulling you through.
I sit with you,
Because I care, I get you.
I know the pain,
I know this too will pass.
And you know too.
***
Copyright © Darren White
November 7, 2016
The neighbours went off on their yearly vacation,
Off to visit some foreign nation.
Leaving me keys and a list a mile long,
To watch their pets. What could go wrong?
The rottweiler is a gentle soul
As long as there's always food in her bowl.
The trick is filling it as quick as can be,
So you need to be fast, faster than me.
The birds take pride in emptying their dishes
All over the floor, and then there's the fishes.
So there's food and water and then food again,
Making sure there's enough to last until when
The next day begins and we start it anew.
I'm told there's a cat. Really! Who knew?
If there is , it certainly keeps itself hid.
It's like playing hide and seek with some little kid.
Walking the dog has become quite a chore.
She sees the leash and runs for the door.
After being dragged two miles the walk finally starts.
The dog is immense, she should be pulling carts.
Back to the house and the hide and seek game.
If there is a cat, it doesn't come to it's name.
The birds are now staring at their seeds on the floor.
I refuse to refill the dishes as I head to the door.
So this daily ritual will last another week
And I'll keep trying to win the game of hide and seek.
Thank goodness their vacation only comes once a year.
After watching the pets ....I could sure use a beer.
Come hither youth and heed the words I say,
My heart does yearn as I now reminisce,
If not for you where would I be today?
As I sit forlornly avoid from bliss.
Let me ask you was it all worth your while?
Did you live proudly with love in the end?
Or would you exchange it all for a smile?
Tell me youth did you at least make a friend?
Now as the years went by do I seem old?
My youth please know in the mirror I see,
You standing there with reflection so cold,
Your eyes no wiser than they used to be.
All your dreams have died and hang in the sky,
Leaving me alone to wither and die.