Best Sofa Poems
The sofa may be stained and old
But what stories can it unfold
Sit ye down and you'll be told
It was on that sofa i met your mam
A few more kisses, and a few more drams
Through the bottom of the glass
She looked real glam
For in the morning
After the night before
To sleep on the couch
I'd always end up on the floor
The sitting room door always creaked
It was her father who always peaked
Just to be sure he knew i was there
And not slowly sneaking up the stair
So the sofa's in house's
With so many tales to be told
Are we going to divulge
And be so bold?
For there are kids called Brooklyn, India and Sahara
Kids of today, and kids of tomorrow
Children from Europe, and from Poland's Craiova
Not many kids have been called Sofa
" This just came to me after seeing the word Sofa in Doris Culverhouse's poem Stained "
A
College Dorm sleeps
Four per room
Keg party
Loud
Too much Boom
A
Drunk freshman sleeps
Where he falls
Coeds toss him on
The sofa
Instead of snooze in
the halls
A
Sorority girl
Named him
“Sofa King Tool”
Now he feels like a Fool
Not Sofa King Cool
Parts of our lives are always a little messed up,
but we don't have to try to fix each other,
that we can do on our own if we choose to try.
What I want to be is realistic,
without just walking away,
because we can't be together every day.
Don't quite like or understand the concept,
if someone doesn't fit right in our lives,
they're gone,
out on the curb like an old sofa.
There is an old saying,
a romantic never gives up on a love.
What I don't want to give up,
is whatever you can share with me,
not because I think you're perfect,
or we can be together on a given day.
It's this thing called caring about you,
and loving you in my own unique ways.
new sofa covers
muddy hand prints all over
a brand new design
An elusive pedestal amidst the lights darkens the lounge
And many drink with a glittering eye of scorn
And the snickers only make the room spin faster
And indifferent fingers fashion you forlorn
But you can't help but notice that strange caster
There upon the sofa
That impossible being feeding off her little bird
Flings a silhouette in the brittle blight
Every sickness is now blurred
It looks upon you before taking flight
At the auto repair shop,
a large stuffed animal,
a St. Bernard,
adorned the sofa in the waiting room.
He almost looked real, lying there motionless,
with snow white patch on the end of his tale,
and closed bale full slits for eyes.
I exclaimed to Taylor the office manager,
"He almost looks real."
Then as if by magic,
the very tip of his tail started to move,
Sleep heavy eyes started to open,
Looking in my direction in anticipation of attention.
In an instant this small world was transformed,
by an act of recognition and kindness.
Empowering nature's strongest unspoken bond,
between a dog and a man.
THE METEOR - SOFA PEOPLE
Sofa pyromaniacs are skilled to put it mildly.
Fueled fiercely by gasoline (as is fitting)
Or by kerosene burning wildly,
They enjoy a fire to warm their sofa-sitting.
In anger are the flames incepted on the two-seater?
Or by simple accident of cigar or match?
Maybe the cat stumbled over the gas-heater
And then sat nearby to warm and watch?
But however the inferno got started bright,
What caused its plunge to earth
Like a shooting star or meteorite?
Did people push it, for malice or mirth?
To manhandle a burning sofa is a skill -
Out of a window eight floors up. If that’s their aim
They’d have to get it balanced on the windowsill
Before igniting the flame.
Oh the joy in their eyes :
Just push - and see the sofa incandescent
Recede and diminish in size
On its plunging earthward descent.
Then the son-et-lumiere display
From the crunch and splitting sound -
And oh the splendor bright as day
As the glowing hulk meets the ground.
And passing viewers catch their breath
From this Viking-funeral excitement;
And from their close brush with a fiery death -
Crushed by a hot chaise-longue into the pavement.
On this brown, broken sofa
Here with my lonely guitar
Looking around in empty space
Orange is my only surroundings
Writing you songs about life
Or maybe about hopeful love
And even of my life's struggles
So many lyrics in my thoughts!
Out of these crowded alleys and corners
I'm nothing but a street guitar player
But I'm not of the penniless kind
For my melody will be the world's harmony
I could be pondering on a train station
Or alone in the dark, hidden roads
But my solace of my own success
Will be coming from a broken sofa
Don't be mistaken about this
For the sofa is not actually broken
What I really meant about this description
If the sofa was full of failures and loneliness
But all is not lost in my solitary life
Because my guitar is my true love
It's my endless passion of my feelings
And makes this street guitar player hopeful
This brown, broken sofa I'm lying on
The sorrows of struggles will be gone
You've kept my secrets and dreams
In which my success is great because of you
No matter where I travel in the world
Or the many people cheering around
From street guitarist to global music artist
I'll remember my true origins of my talent
Here, along with my lonely guitar
I go back to this small, orange space
Taking a long rest from my endless melodies
Brown, broken sofa... I now close my eyes
"Yesterday sometimes is a comfortable sofa where we want to be lazy, instead to keep on cycling on the given road". -by author
A time machine has not been invented yet, it would be nice.Very often we search in the drawers for our past, photos, letters, school mates and we even, don't know what.Time to time, we know what it is feeling blue, especially when we grow older and we remember about our best years. Who never looked for the best moments of their lives?.
Yes, I did. As the most of the human beings.
Good to remember where we belong to, without forgetting that we still have part of our life ready to be explored.
Never forget that while the moon
switches its light off, the sun will switches it on again.
A time machine to travel to yesterday
is all in your mind.
. CAT ON SOFA
On sofa, black-white cat loves to stand and sit,
loiters in kitchen, likes to steal candy to eat
on opportune moment,
as an entertainment:
Jolly jubilant pretty pet cat named Bandit.
10/24/17
Picture Prompt Contest by Janice Leigh Rodeheaver
Third Place
Oh my Grandpa dear-he had just one big beer. He thought he could see, his eyes were fuzzy and not clear. So on the sofa he did lay, as he slept away the day.
Oh my Grandpa dear-snoring so loud, everyone thought you were sleeping on a cloud. You stopped your snoring as you rolled over and headed due south, A fly does not enter a closed mouth.
8/9/2019
A dark room
No pink walls
No white ceilings
Finally!
The black sofa fits in
Our brand-new sofa bed got stuck.
It wouldn’t open; just our luck.
Our daughter slept upon it twice,
But not last night. Here’s my advice:
If underneath a sheet you use
A mattress pad before you snooze,
Be sure, if on the fold-up kind,
No sheet or pad gets left behind.
We think that pad is somehow caught
Within the springs; we toiled for naught.
Today we’ll ask for an assist;
Our super’s help we will enlist.
A small mistake but we got burned.
Yes, “haste makes waste” – the lesson learned.
Empty on the sofa
Lonely without my man
If anyone can make me feel better
Only Dr Payne can
He makes me laugh
Makes me smile
For him i'd even run a mile
It may not seem far in length
But i just need his almighty strength
To get me through each breaking day
So what I just meant to say
Was thank you for all you do for me
But I have one final tiny plea
Love me and be mine for the rest of my life
And I will always try my best at being your wife xx
I elicit rebuke
it’s not even a fluke
I tire and I bore-nothing new here in store
I feel pain
like the rain
but the drain is arcane
I flip and flop
I start and I stop
I rip and I tear
but still get no stare
from that goose of man
the one that ran…out
leaving me here all sour and kraut
I know that it’s true
that being so blue is like wearing one shoe
uneven and odd
in a growing bod
Tis no way to be!
please help me to flee
out of my mind
and stop falling behind
…the sofa