Best Solids Poems
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.
Categories:
solids, father, father son, funny,
Form:
Couplet
Dear Jan, I hope you enjoy :)
THE RHYMING QUEEN OF POOP
Jan sits on her throne singing
Ting-a-ling tinkling
Wrapping TP ‘round and ‘round
Hoping solids come unbound
Queen of Poop’s puckered up
But happily she rhymes whilst a back-up
Yet relief emanates with a ka-boom
And an ah-ha whisked away with TP broom.
Categories:
solids, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Basic Elements of Earth
True gifts...our elements of earth;
this solid mass on which we stand,
with gravity at center core,
stability is well at hand.
The sky above, our ceiling, holds
the sun's bright rays, dark clouds of rain,
the air we breathe, a highway too,
to fly like birds in our space plain.
Our treasured water, source of life;
without it, we could never be.
The oceans, rivers, streams and ponds
sustain all life amazingly.
And fire, a friend or foe for sure;
burnt forests better growth create.
Its energy and warmth we need;
though, sometimes a destroyer's fate.
Our solids, air, water and fire;
the basic elements of earth.
Such balance in these gifts of life
support each level of its worth.
Sandra M. Haight
Categories:
solids, earth, giving, nature,
Form:
Quatrain
Abandoned Yellow Star,
Existential apostle.
Solar flares haunt outworlds, "I'm It, you're not."
Mercury, Mary's star loved from afar.
Hot but not the hottest star.
A tiny lifeless star.
Venus will have more sunlight in her hair.
Acid clouds, corrosive ground.
A great task, you won't last.
Mars, Ray Bradbury's & Poe's summer home.
Famed Martian golf balls canals.
Mountain Mons view Earthsets.
Jupiter planet King.
Juno caught clouds aided by sprites and elves.
It passes gas, no solids.
Saturn, Trump's hide-a-way post Mar-La-Go
Eyes like Godiva's, you'll see.
Ocean moon, life likely.
Uranus ... home planet of many Ex's.
Twenty years long each season.
Tad colder than Neptune.
Neptune ice-cold Hunter.
1300 mph.
One hundred sixty-five years per Biden.
Pluto is a dwarf planet, not full-sized.
Other planets ... still too close.
Latter cause for exile.
Categories:
solids, allusion, analogy, extended metaphor,
Form:
Kimo
You look askance because I'm drunk
your nose a-twitch; I stink like skunk
for days I've liquid-dined
no solids only wine
happily gorged on grog and gunk
Once scrounging on the streets, homeless
I now live life in blissful bliss
of bondage I am free
on one big drinking spree
which in itself spells happiness
With jeans and watch by Armani
you, perfumed doll, though sober be
to survival shackled
securely manacled
but guess who won the lottery?
To you, Free. Sadly, our world is a judgemental one.
Categories:
solids, funny
Form:
Limerick
I really truly don't know
why
some things under the
sun and sky
attract and catch my
fancy
Quite queerly they
happen to be
hot melting smelting
solids
that melt into exquisite
liquids.
Take for instance heated
liquid gold
molten glass or molten
brass
and to watch magma
'neath the earth's fold
Ooh I love just about any
melting mass.
With similar bizarre
ecstasy and fascination
do I always watch
onscreen molten lava
Gliding in serpentine
turns, oblivious of my
admiration
Ah, I just love all that
golden molten mass
Sometimes I even have
such an eccentric craving
to watch just any solid
beauty melting smelting
that I satisfy this craving
by simply imagining
the honey to be some
liquid fire gold
in a crystal clear jar and
liken it to
a metallic gold syrup in
the furnace burning
As if it were stagnant
mini-lava
right before me glowing!
As for other mesmeric
things
that I find real eye-
catching
are those which
everybody else finds
ravishing.
And they are in all shine
dazzling diamond dust
Magical celestial stardust
Glittery terrestrial gold
dust
in mankind's metallic
materialistic lust.!
But I, I am allergic to
dust!:) ;)
Categories:
solids, beautiful, longing,
Form:
Rhyme
God`s love for mankind is immeasurable and total,
so also
my love for you is genuine and true , like pink
Diamond which is better than the edible almond.
Sun rises in the east and set westward;rivers flow
out of the mouths of two rocks embedded in the
pacific and tundra,the clouds shower the soil with
water , which makes young plants and seedlings
to sprout out ,breeze blows with soothing effect,
the pores of the skin absorb this coolness; the
nostrils breath in fresh unpolluted air. Birds sing
with mellifluousity as the branches of the trees
clap and dance as the wind whistles along, this
combine music brings sweetness which makes
one appreciate the good work of nature ; Oh!
nature ,love immeasurable ; right from genesis
my love is total not virtual and without blemish.
Though you are weak,sick and dying as I stand
beside you~ wishing! and hoping that you stand on your feet
again,remembering when we walk in the rain on the beach, hand-
in-hand,laughing and smiling soaked with aqua;sitting by the river bank
watching the goodwork of nature.Now I`m waiting!waiting for you toget well,
My love for you is without measure and unique;please!,stand up like a unicorn.
*A measuring Cylinder-is used to measure the volume of liquids and irregular solids.BUT this CANNOT be USED to measure the LOVE I have for YOU(ALL my poetrysoup Friends).
Categories:
solids, care, love,
Form:
Shape
The soul shatters upon death. Sentience fractures into a million variables that swirl chaotically into piercing eyes that melt into the color sadness, spinning into galaxies that shrink to the size of ants and you twirl in a blender of being for eternities until finally, at long last, something sticks. Perhaps it may be as simple as a strand of hair, nonetheless all possibility spins around it, flashing contradictions of rainbow transparencies, empty solids and polka dotted space, continuing until a second hair joins the first, clutching to the nothingness and refusing to move. Soon thousands of hairs arrive and synchronize above a scalp unto a face, torso, limbs… materializing ever faster… and at once you are born. And just as the memory of your trial and error experimentation and prior life evaporate, you embrace the arms of a stranger, gazing into her eyes, hung between this world and the next… sobbing in a fit of omniscience, in awe of your hard earned shape.
Jacob Reinhardt
10/15/2013
Categories:
solids, adventure, age, art, beauty,
Form:
Epithalamium
Why do people talk to babies as though they were stupid?
Isn’t he lovely? the old woman said
And doesn’t he look the spit of his Dad
Is he on solids, how long does he sleep
And how many other kids have you had?
Who does he look like? the young woman said
I’m not really sure if he’s anyone’s kid
I feed him on burgers, he doesn’t sleep much
And I’ve had one for each of the blokes that I did
Not quite the answers the old woman sought
The one about blokes pretty much struck her dumb
The young woman giggled, she’d made it all up
And what’s more she wasn’t even 'his' Mum
But what fun to be had as she walked around town
To the ‘ooohs’ and the ‘aaahs’ and the helium cries
Oh, the amusement of dressing a girl
In an outfit as blue as conventional skies
His name’s Rupert, she’d say, (sometimes Nobby or Fred)
Depending on who was that nosey that day
He’s got rickets, or measles, whatever disease
Occurred to her, and that seemed funny to say
It entertained baby, she really was bright
And sick of inane inappropriate chat
And of people who leaned far too near to her face
Who were nosey and smelly and frequently spat
She was in on the joke, and well up for the crack
For the stuff folk came out with was simply absurd
She was practising swearwords at night in her cot
To prepare for the day she could utter a word
And then she would show ‘em, she’d show ‘em alright
Not to treat her as though she was some kind of fool
It’s my business how many nappies I fill
Such personal questions, completely uncool
In the meantime, she’s watching, she’s mentally noting
How humans make speech in particular forms
Who is good, who is bad, who speaks some kind of sense
And who is averse to conventional norms
Oh, babies are little and can’t answer back
But don’t think for a moment they’re not on the ball
They’re not poodles, or Martians, or mentally ill
So speak to them nicely, or don’t speak at all
by Gail
Categories:
solids, baby, child, growing up,
Form:
Rhyme
I thought that I should say what I mean
On the subject of ‘****’ and its synonyms—
Derrida’s caveat notwithstanding.
We alternatively dub it turd, crap, poop, etc.
But the whole set of synonyms,
Given its connotation, is not politically correct.
Of course I do have my points.
It is true that the referent has
A lot of nuisance value
– as what is not –
And hence the connotation.
If you leave, for instance, a child
On a commode unattended…!
But you should respect it for some other reasons:
What if your **** refused to leave your bowels,
Or by chance or mischance mixed
With other solids (or fluids) in the body?
Or made hell as it left
The other end of the alimentary canal?
All that you may, then, insist upon is:
There’s a place for everything
And you don’t want ‘****’ in unwanted places.
Fine.
On the positive side, however,
What is **** to you is business
For a pathologist or physician.
So they would all call it sample,
Excrement, feces, refuse, etc.
For a farmer, it’s fertilizer.
So, s/he would call it night soil.
For civic workers, it’s rubbish.
So, why this negative connotation?
I’m not here to prescribe.
I am no Webster or Fowler.
I would, however,insist that
The present connotation should go!
***
Categories:
solids, funny, language,
Form:
Free verse
I have ADD.
Having... what I have's like playing billiards*!
I aim my thoughts
like a cue ball at a stripe**
and hit a solid** color...
It wipes me out! I forfeit my next shot!
My Critic-of-all-dreams does the thinking, then!
And THEN, it seems my friends all make their shots,
And I am left to rack up.
As they feel sorry for me, I am given the break shot,
first shot in the new game!
'Oo!' I think, 'a thought for every ball!' and it doesn't end well!
I fire off the shot, and nearly crack the lot,
And the cue ball leaps up and over the mess of billiard balls,
and OFF the TABLE!
My one friend is bald,
and as I pick the cue ball up, I imagine how much
His head looks like the cue ball, and it sets me laughing.
Unknown, my crime of thought is,
And he graciously grants me... another shot!
It is then, that I put on too much chalk, and send the white ball spinning
With a blue mark on one side going round and round
...and... this is how my thoughts go, sometimes!
A good thing, I am not playing for money!
________
*in this case, I am employing the American usage of 'Billiards', which includes 'Pocket Billiards', along with several other Cue Sports
**'Stripes and Solids' is a game in which one player tries to knock only the Striped Balls, while the other player tries to knock only the Solid-Colored Balls into any of the pockets. To hit, with the white cue ball, a ball of the other player's designation ('Striped' or 'Solid') is to forfeit one's next shot. A successful 'pocketing' of one's designated ball, adds a point, and allows the player to continue shooting, until he either misses, or strikes or 'pockets' another player's ball.
Categories:
solids, anxiety, confusion, friendship, games,
Form:
Free verse
Insignificant
This dust
A void
We trust
This is real
Magnetic solids
Fate is sealed
Whatever
You call it
So struggle still
Churning fauna
In constant flux
Earthly sauna
Show me
The end
If it’s soon
I can't defend
Synthetic moons
Categories:
solids, earth, life, moon, science,
Form:
Free verse
The world rotates and life moves forward,
I see a straight path but im spinning!
The confusion between me and them:
How we separated- the split and turns
The additions and multiplications;
Divisions equal to unknown formulas,
Those numbers ranging
from millions to trillions;
Zeros so many it seems like an army,
The Great Rebellions
fighting for answers
The whole irony behind counting
No strange devices; no calculators!
Just the human mind battling physics,
The complexity of symbols.
Alchemy and deep in the mysteries
Understudy of nature,
Initiated by the laws of cosmology;
Scientology and deep meditation,
A seer like a scientist slash mystic
Mixing Potions: a magician at night
Doing tricks, its voodoo to the people
who don't understand what we do!
No warlocks and sorcerous
This is no fairytale:
just you understanding your will,
That fire; the motive behind your actions
Resulting in reactions,
Conducting formulas and work throughs
To comprehend the vast change of this reality,
My mind and my ideas!
Studying quantum physics:
Manipulating light to dark matter
Building and subtracting atoms,
Ranging from gas; liquid and solids
Earthiness, so im searching for metals
Conducting formulas and changing elements:
from melting to molding;
All for finding the philosophers stone,
The red rock: your heart
Allowing it to bloom like a rose,
Standing still so the energy
passes through the body!
Feeling harmony and perceiving peace
We beings of light crucified in matter,
Gravity as a hammer: Newton the lifter
Einstein as Jesus performing miracles,
Writing prophecies and conducting new formulas.
Categories:
solids, deep, image, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
(A COLLABORATION BY ROBERT JAMES LIGUORI AND NATASHA L SCRAGG)
It is in ponds, streams and rivers,
And also in lakes and oceans.
Sometimes it stands still,
But mostly it's in motion.
From the air, it will say hello,
From a dreary sky
Showering you with love.
No longer you'll be dry!
Nothing is more refreshing
Than a glass of this wonderful water;
Even without sugar, lemon, ice and bubbles,
For which you'd have to order.
Water slides or kayaking,
With water rolling over rocks.
Sometimes it's safe to engage,
Other times it's with feisty crocs!
The waves stir up emotion.
They impress us with their power,
Mighty, majestic and strong,
Their crash causes a foamy shower.
Water is also relaxing.
Think of that warm soak in the bath...
Water is used in playtime, for fun,
Squirting water at your friends - then you laugh!
Water is a force to be reckoned with -
Poetry in motion, as it were!
Its exotic reflection of the sky above,
One cannot help but stare!
Water can transform
Into solids and to gas...
Let's top up our water vessels.
To water, raise a glass!
Categories:
solids, water,
Form:
Rhyme
Iron Balloons Concrete Skies
(PART 2)
The rising of iron balloons lifted into concrete skies
Fashioned on the hour filled, solid to the core
Defying gravity as they move on
Infinity looks back, far and away above causality
The restless day fills with bricks colliding frequently
Broken glass shatters as the casualty with related damages
Thick, green, shards look for objects to destroy
Rise to the alien worlds attention
More rounded than not, a shattered world survives nothing
Avoiding sharp edges, solids and liquids
Fluid in their movements
Colored orbs of iron growing heavier as they go floating
Balloons merge with concrete skies
Seen through neon trees perceived as oddities
Explored by astounded astronauts in wonder
Once discovered after midnight, which is always in existence
Observations on balloons are permitted by the crew
Limited operational parameters of planetary matters
Will be considered on underwater findings as well
Under scrutiny and compliance with the interstellar law
Such items found are not authorized to be handled
If discovered on the ground
Items can be looked at but not touched
Abidance of natural order must be trusted
To maintain the universe and pure science as perceived
Concrete ideas like skies have the final word
Iron clad, as it too has its pressure to do good
In the twinkling of an eye the sky collapses
Gravity eats its own
Black holes look for something to digest
Iron balloons can only do their best
Categories:
solids, adventure, universe,
Form:
Epic