Best Sofas Poems
So many pennies,
lost in the system,
rejected, neglected,
dejected -
cursed by '99' price tags,
a charity box favourite,
nobody wants nor waits for.
So many forgotten pennies,
lost on the streets or behind our sofas,
yet pounds are never thrown away.
Both are round, so why do they only care for the pound?
Maybe its a matter of currency and colour,
or social structure, value and power.
No pound without pennies,
only empty piggy banks and jars,
but pound lovers take pennies for granted,
abuse us, belittle us, try to control us.
They get jealous of our shine,
try to manipulate us into a mouldy depression -
no wonder there are so many homeless pennies.
When did we stop being a priority,
descend to the bottom of society.
Just because we are misunderstood, do not fit in,
we are still round, but ignored by the system
a conflict of civilisation.
Imagine if all the pennies got together,
instead of being slaves to the pound?
Then surely we'd be stronger,
or would we just become pounds?
Has the penny dropped yet?
Sunday thoughts
Silent One
9 February 2020
These are two etherees that will be put together side by side to form ONE complete poem having 11 syllables per line, so I thought i would show how it is done. It's like fitting two puzzle pieces together to form the poem for the contest at the bottom!
(Etheree #1)
Two
cats now
occupy
a space that is
my home, their kingdom,
with beds to hide beneath,
and with closets, stairs and chairs
small pets like to explore and where
comfy, side by side, they doze. Two cats,
now a part of me, show me daily. . . love
(etheree #2)
Cute new friends, no longer foes, but sister
companions, share common spaces and
a place even more important:
the heart I give, along with
the place they frolic in,
with sofas they climb
and desktops where
they perch. Here
my joy
lives.
(I have put the lines of the top etheree in parentheses so you can see how neatly they fit together with the reverse etheree #2)
A Home with Two Cats
(Two) cute new friends, no longer foes, but sister
(cats now) companions, share common spaces and
(occupy) a place even more important:
(a space that is) the heart I give, along with
(my home, their kingdom), the place they frolic in,
(with beds to hide beneath), with sofas they climb
(and with closets, stairs and chairs) and desktops where
(small pets like to explore and where) they perch. Here
(comfy, side by side, they doze. Two cats,) my joy
(now a part of me, show me daily. . . love) lives.
Hope I explained it so it was understood how I did it!!
For the Pet Contest of Francine Roberts
EASTER DINNER
they liked the one behind me
the teal and black checkerboard
its sparkling tiles on the diagonal
red, yellow, blue, pink pillows
on sofas and chair
the sunrise was unsympathetic
like the cross, but the service
was cozy for Easter Sunday.
remember how it was raining yesterday?
they liked the one behind me
with framed women and palms
i’d have to look over my shoulder
see the eyes of the beholders
steadily for twelve hours plus
prepping the whole affair
can you smell the onions and peppers
the beginnings of love
they liked the one behind me
with the blue and pink sky,
red roses fanned out, ferns,
and modern art on display
stirred the flour, salt,
nearly a dozen eggs
and water, still needed
more water
they liked the one behind me
with the great picture window,
the surf and sail, red and white
striped shell, a book, and
a cocktail with straw
chicken - legs and breast
red and white wine
no deviled eggs - tossed
toadstool radishes
they liked the painting
it drew them in
i liked that they liked it
wonder if they saw
the red parakeet?
even the beach chairs are red
did they spy all the red things
obviously I’ve counted
most everything
that is behind my back
and in front of me
4/9/2023
Love is lacy things and beauty CARES. A touch of INFATUATION at the fringes and always shared. A simple kiss of the cheek and washing her feet at the CREEK. Love is BLUE BERRY STAINS on SOFAS and chairs, and tiny TOTS run around safe and SOUND. Never a tarnished gray. An AFRICAN VIOLET on the best of days.
Gentle laughter and smooth in June never comes to soon. Sensual, yet delicate and refined. LOVE IS hearing "yes" after your down on one knee. It's watching him walk or listening to her talk.
Always filled with actions of PASSIONS with little EXAGGERATED FASHIONS. What a LUSCIOUS melody from the HEART straight from the start. Beautiful when it's real but here's the DEAL, LOVE IS sometimes CRAZY with plenty of ZEST AND ZEAL. LOVE IS ALIVE and it BLEEDS eroticism and bathes in sensuality.
It's pulling her close then closer. It's letting him have his space. A whisper in the ear a STROKING of the hair. Love is everything on a clear SUMMER day. Just sitting under a WILLOW TREE with him by the bay. Love is a POET'S dream of a perfect song.
It is a new day UNWRAPPING itself at the dawning. A TRICKLING of rain drops on a sweet Sunday SUMMER morning.
And ALWAYS let it be said LOVE IS an ETERNAL DANCE through time on heaven's bed.
Pug noses in designer hoodies
Wicker baskets on beach cruisers
Leather sofas doggy devoted
Grooming parlors and pet hotels
Best pooch in wedding tux
Nip and tuck, no more nuts
Hollywood glitz for puppy shitz
LA doggy style
Westside!
Imagine…
A family sitting in a living room; the living room made of sofas and chairs
The sofas told a tale of antiques; never a complexion, even to the brain’s follicles of hair
Her grandfather, and other members of the family sat there;
laughing; nourishing the air
There she sat, opposite to her grandfather’s left side
She looked at him, at his laugh, and smiled
Everyone around them seemed to be damped with fog;
nothing was seen except; herself, her grandfather, and a picture that seemed unprepared to
trod
Her grandfather held that picture and saw his grandson
Immédiatement*, he smiled and admired the photo’s photon
She then spoke and told her grandfather that his grandson has now grown;
thus calling his grandson to come; to be shown
There, his grandson arrived, and his grandfather held him in his hands and placed him on his
laps
It was a beautiful scene without any empty gaps
But then, she noticed her grandfather didn’t look at her;
it was as if she was out of the picture…
It was then she realized like she was talking to him, but he didn't hear her...
It was then she noticed that it was a dream within a dream...
She had seen her grandfather when she was three
But now, she misses him a great deal…
‘May you rest in peace’
*Immédiatement: Immediately
Tom said to his kitten: Don't hunt! It's hard work!
Leave hunting to others and don't be a burk
Watch me and heed me and later admire
We'll slink to the future - a far distant fire
There sat some bald apes - one cooking some meat
Fur clad and thick bearded and great hairy feet
Tom stares at the bald apes - wide eyed and miaows
They throw him a meat scrap - the kit just says "wow"
Did I just see that? Blind luck or a trick?
Why did they feed you? They must be so thick?
Tom cat said just listen. I have a great plan
We'll domesticate bald apes to better catkind
We'll make them build wheat farms then store all the grain
To attract vermin rodents - our staple buffet
Breed bovine and ovine to fill up our bowl
Carved wood then ceramic then hand made with gold
From stone tools to bronze craft to iron we lead
The wheel and the ploughshare makes sure that we feed
Mud huts to brick houses to keep us bone dry
Wood fires, coal boilers - to cold say goodbye
We'll make them cat worship - a pyramid scheme
Then reinvent printing - cat posters supreme
Electrics and TVs and PCs - the net
Cat websites and movies on YouTube - no sweat
Then rockets and spacecraft to aim for the stars
But somewhere warm thank you - it's real cold on Mars
They might have big brains but what's better than clever
Is ruling the clever - forever and ever
And when we are settled in their mortgaged homes
With sofas and cushions and beds for our thrones
And though we are fed, we'll go back to our roots
And stare at them wide eyed - miaow to be cute
Entry for "the love of kittens" contest
7th January 2017
Lately for Christmas I unplug my little Christmas tree
and then I enjoy hitting the hay while trying to conserve
my heating bill by not cranking the temperature up all the way.
I even try to leave it off if I may.
I pile the covers way up high and have a last thought before
Santa's elves take me away to that North Pole location
behind my closed eyes.
In my peaceful and joyful bliss MR and MRS Claus invite me in.
There's a warm fire to greet my line of vision and nice soft sofas
to sit down and relax in, in order to enjoy more fully
the sweet little visit.
MRS Claus a gracious host is she as she offers me my choice of hot
chocolate or a nice cup of hot tea, of course I choose the sweeter
of the two, along with nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie, just
baked fresh out of the antiquated yet fully functional oven.
The conversation is bright and lively as Santa walks in wearing
his red pajamas underneath a very rich looking robe... red with
a white satin sash.
Holding a lit pipe he takes a puff to warm his cold nose.
There was a large, real Christmas tree over in the corner of the
living room, decorated with strands of real gold and longer strands
of silver tinsel strewn randomly through out the large branches.
After our more than pleasant visit was over I turn to leave the Claus'
very large home and saw the elves leading the reindeer to their very
large stables to retire for the night.
Then my dreams started to turn to other things, but not before
I heard Santa say to all a Merry Christmas and to all a good night!
by S.E. Clark
The Stench of Prejudice.
When silent prejudice strikes
in living rooms with plumped-up sofas
a quietly insidious venom begins to seep
into the consciousness of the chattering ones as they sleep
The beliefs held so true and so deep
appear stripped of all feeling
empty and hollow and without compassion
as the conceit grows in the chests of those with righteous passion
the prejudice once firmly entrenched
is worn like a warm and comforting shawl
needing precious little to compound and to mutate
into the doctrines of superiority and of aloofness and of hushed hate
we are all guilty of succumbing to this silent pervasive plague
as we sip martinis and laugh and shovel more food on our heaving plates
and as we slip into pleasantly inebriated moments we dare not care
to smell the stench of hate & prejudice & greed wafting in the cool evening air.
The cold and drafty dark castle nights,
eating boars head like its going out of style,
having new battles every other week,
God forbid if you had a yellow streak,
Women wearing long gowns which were warm,
except for their exposed cleavage and throats,
it's no wonder they all didn't catch pneumonia,
while working their spinning wheels from their sofas,
And better not fall into their shark filled moat,
the chances of living being very remote,
and if by chance you missed the drawbridge going up,
if your a midget, don't try to jump for it,
Better you not disagree with the king,
or he'd tie you down to the pendulum swing,
or worse yet if you were on his enemy list,
he'd do a lot more than just have a hissy fit,
But for fun they'd all watch the jousting match,
seeing who would get spear tipped by the lance,
every weekend they'd lose yet another injured man,
the men only competing because they'd get a free ham,
Every once in a while the troubadour would come round,
trying to cheer them up by acting like a minstrel clown,
just barely making it there by the skin of his teeth,
pulling all the arrows out of his seat,
As for animal entertainment a man would have to be desperate,
thinking a ordinary bear would always just relent,
having the bear stand up and dance around to the din,
the bear obviously hungry devouring the mans limb,
Whereupon the plague arrived right out of the blue,
as if the medieval people didn't have enough worrying to do,
suspiciously thinking it arrived because of out of habit,
"a pox upon you!" was said for harassment.
11-12-16
Family love is born in little rooms,
around sofas, settees, dinner plates,
with paternal bond that strengthens and grooms,
unswerving link that lasts till heaven’s gates!
We were such family in a French town,
traditional, true, religious us four,
mother was good at making wedding gowns,
father a decorator ran paint store!
Sister and I watched German troops on streets,
Tuesday August year nineteen forty three,
parents held us close, could hear their heartbeat,
that was the last day we would all be free!
Dragged on to street by the Nazi soldiers,
our father was punched kicked and beaten blue,
we wept helpless, clung to mother’s shoulders,
that was the last of our father we knew!
Pulled away from mother and Sis I cried,
screaming imploring, no mercy, no heart,
that day for me when humanity died,
was day my family was torn apart!
Packed in a train suffocating with stench,
alone defeated waited journey’s end,
with dead and dying that made stomach wrench,
four days of thirst and suffering to spend.
I remember that train to Auschwitz well,
journey that destroyed many lives like mine,
where our love and hope to tyranny fell,
to death we were paraded in a line!
Six months past we heard exchange of fire,
that made evil enemy pack and run,
We were all rescued from behind barbed wire,
was still hope and goodness under the Sun!
When God smiles he smiles generously well,
lifts suffering souls from bottomless pit,
That day he was smiling we could all tell,
his eyes perhaps gleaming and face well lit!
Each life and hope with dignity restored,
we were treated, bathed clothed and given food,
In room of people saw face I adored,
sobbing with outstretched arms my mother stood!
United with mother back to my house,
and years of togetherness we would share,
on the wall hangs our striped prisoner blouse,
to tell trappings of hatred and its snare!
The train to Auschwitz took many to death,
guilt ridden, to and fro ran that train,
but tracks remain, hate may creep back in stealth!
train to Auschwitz should never run again!
Premier contest 6th placement
Written 09/April/2021
10 syllables each line (PS syllable count)
based on a true story as related by a 93 yr old Auschwitz survivor
The last train to Auschwitz poetry competition
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
The Devil got the sack last week
He’s feeling at a loss
For several thousand years now
He’s been in charge, the boss
The new man’s changing everything
Hired a whole new team
The place is so much nicer
A more relaxed regime
Red hot pokers up the ****
De rigueur, they are not
Only those that ask, will get
A poker up their bot
There’s been a change of fragrance too
Well, sulphurs so outré
Seems Lily of the valley
Is the order of the day
We’re getting leather sofas, which
Could well be here quite soon
And a squad of decorators
Working hard in every room
Now they’ve fixed the air conditioner
It’s behaving as it should
Hell is rather pleasant
In fact it’s jolly good
So when you pop your clogs
And you’re deciding where to go
Forget the trip to Heaven
It’s much better down below
I went to buy an R.V.
They said all I could afford was a Lose-a Beggo.
I bought a pair of alligator shoes.
But then I started wandering off into swamps.
Finally, I had to toss them, they were
really biting my feet.
I got arrested for tossing
an endangered species.
I got a fantastic price on a
1995 calendar.
I discovered the Missing Link.
(Of my broken chain).
Were cell phones invented for prisoners?
I bought a hot dog from a street vendor in NYC.
I guess he didn't like my looks.
He offered me mustard gas.
Speaking of hot dogs, I bought a $500
hot dog roller-grill machine.
But then I could no longer afford the hot dogs.
I'm so dumb I used to think hot dogs
were Dobermans left out in the sun.
The waiter asked me if I wanted some
mussels. I said I couldn't afford the
gym membership.
What's in a name?
Letters, I guess...
I use Military time, cause I
thought the o'clocks were just
for Irish people.
Did the Ottoman Empire
build forts out of armless sofas?
Someone told me they wanted to see Tibet.
I said, "Why?...No one will win."
I couldn't afford the colon cleanser, so I got a semi-colon cleanser.
Why do they call those big eighteen wheeler trucks "Semis"?
Where's the other half?
Whoever said "All good things come to those who wait" must've had a different
postman.
My neurologist calls me Mr. Numskull.
Someone asked me what my net worth was. I said I pay $9.95 a month to be
online.
I have so many electric pianos the electric company had to build another power
plant.
Amazon doesn't like me either. I ordered an 8mm camera- they sent me a
loaded 9mm gun with instructions on suicide.
Have a good one, more on their way.
(If you wish to unsubscribe to Tom's
Terrrible Tibits, Tough Nookies!)
They appear from hidden corners in an impromptu
fashion, like bubbles appearing anywhere
in boiling tea. They are all in white, making
mourning sounds that can put Nightmare on Elmstreet
Series to shame.
They always come out at ten
in the night. Everyone in Broomstreet closes their
windows, doors and anything that won't make
their houses air-tight. Fathers, mothers,
children, friends, and acquaintances hold each
other's hands behind the sofas, under the beds,
under dinner tables....and wait.
The strange thing with the ghosts
is that they are interested with money,
rather than haunting souls. One ghost
once was spotted robbing Broomstreet
Bank. "Call the exorcists!" the witnesses
shouted.
The ghosts also get wounded. One had a broken
nose when it stalked Mr. Nogood. It hit a wall
as it ran away, after it saw Mr. Nogood's
shotgun.... "How can ghosts be afraid of dying?!"
the senior citizen asked.
Yes, there has been many strange incidences
of haunting in places with lots of money, or
people with lots of money.
The fact and bottomline is that one ghost
resembled Todd Mills, who had escaped
from prison three months back....
I wish I lived in a commercial,
perfect people who all dance and sing,
perfect clothes that they wear
perfect smiles, perfect hair
perfect children, who'll eat anything.
The products they use are all perfect,
they do a good job every time,
no-one having to soak,
just a chisel-jawed bloke
with a squirty gun, cleaning the grime.
The holidays always seem sunny,
the cars have a glistening shine,
the sofas sat on are nigh twenty feet long
and not frayed, with some cat hairs, like mine.
Healthy oldies discussing their pensions
and taking out funeral plans,
I don't care about death, just maintaining my breath
and making it upstairs while I can.
If I bought everything that they offer,
maybe I'd then be a perfect bloke
but I've checked the amount
that's in my bank account
and I'd end up both perfect and broke.