Best Straighten Out Poems


Premium Member Positive Space


Snow covered field blankets the land
One single tree stands proud in the space
Silence engulfs this beautiful place
making difficult things, easy to understand

The twists and turns in life straighten out
The anxiety drifts away in the air
It is easy to feel all that is fair
when positive things come about!

3/6/25

Heidi Sands

(C)opyright

Premium Member Sanctuary For Synonyms

She made a sanctuary for synonyms.
Kept them safely sequestered away.
Had to spank pail and pale yesterday, she told me.
I was surprised, but not morbidly so. She is strict.

I had to chase when and win around the block.
I had to make flu and flew eat their vegetables.
I had to straighten out to and too but not two.
I was getting tired of these phone calls.

However, I have to admit, she is keeping masks on them.
And so far none of them have caught the Covid-19.
But I do wish she would release a few of them
For I need to use wail and whale in my next poem.

Meekness Is Not Weakness

Meekness is not weakness its strength under control,
Don’t think of me as weak, shy, reserved, or timid.
I’m a child of the king the half has not yet been told.
No! You can’t walk all over me and treat me like a door mat,
I’m not trying to straighten out the world and that settles that. 

I refuse to respond to every critic and I won’t let it bother me,
I may have the power to do something about it, but my time
Is too valuable you see: I’ll keep my focus and stand tall doing 
What I’m called to do. My strength and power is in God’s control 
Meekness is not weakness, blessed are the chosen few.
© Abraham L  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Contradictions

She's awash in contradictions. 
Though you just might fall in love
with those big doe eyes.  


She'll put you on a pedestal.
To her,  you can do no harm.
 She is a friend to the very end. 

Still, she could bring you to your knees.
She dislikes being rude, crude, or vulgar.
Though she will straighten out that picture.

She doesn't like negative or toxic people.
Not necessarily shy, just aloof in her ways.
As she's dreaming of some magical place. 

She loves sparkling bobbles and dancing till dawn.
She'll cry at the movies or the slightest of slights.
She'll invite the angels in from out of the cold.  

Sometimes you'll think she's afraid of the world.
But give her a cause, then you'll see.
That steel backbone and endurance in adversity. 

You might think she's most adaptable. 
As you try to bend her all the wrong ways.
She'll say, you can't make me do it that. 
Then she'll laugh as she's walking away.

At times she'll need reassurance from you. 
Things will be OK, she just might not want to,
Jump off that cliff today. 

As she whispers goodnight in your ear, she'll 
Ask the angels to keep you safe and warm.
You might think she's a bit scatterbrained.
Till she shows you what you're looking for.

Yes, she might be a hope chest in contradictions.
But, she'll leave you with a smile, as she moves 
the tides inside you all the while.  

     



4 pm 7/ 13/ 2013

Poetry Is a Baby Bird Hatching

Growing too big for the egg
It pushes out 
With all its strength and might
So naive of the outside world
Yet so determined to push through the shell
And leave its comfort zone
To see new world

Scribbles, tinkles, sprinkles, twinkle twinkle

Innocent eyes see the light
The feathers make little moves
The legs straighten out
The beak toughen
Making little sounds

Songs of freedom, songs of new dawn, songs of flight

Mama bird guides it through
Feeding styles
Hunting tactics
Feelings of depthness
Staying active

Lessons of, reasons to, seasons for

It heeds the advice
It follows its instincts
And lets the words flow
Far beyond the paper
Like a baby bird
Growing and flying higher

Wake Up, Bk

Such a beautiful sleeper but yet a 
life filled with nightmares; 
A demon fighter since her younger age; 
I applaud this princess for her strength. 

Since birth, the flash from cameras have 
overexposed your privacy, 
And left you a public flame, 
waiting for that moment you’ll ignite like 
your mother, 
If allowed, I could show you the wonders 
of the world, outside the seven you’ve seen 
already with your royal family of music, 
Just one request, B.K…..Wake up. 

Sadly the ruffles in your bed of life, 
Have prevented as good night’s sleep; 
For this reason, you feel no one can help you
straighten out your bed sheets; 
I however disagree.
I understand that times are tearful since 
the passing of your best friend, 
in the shape of a mother. 

From a distance I’ve noticed the devil 
creep up in your family; 
I acknowledge that this book of private 
affairs is not for me to read, but if allowed; 
I’d be willing to write better chapters for you 
in the future. 
One in particular would illustrate you 
kissing cloud nine, 
Reminiscing on a career that you were 
passionate about; 
If this path follows your mother, then may 
your voice resonate with the masses,
And display a true angel on earth. 
I sympathize with you, that negative forces in 
this world can shift your stairway downward; 
However, like the demons who constantly try 
to awake the skeletons in my closet, 
We’re all human, and for every fall, 
A rising is waiting, for when you’re spiritually 
ready; 
Let that marinate in your sleepless nightmares 
until you wake up, B.K. 

I anticipate the day when we meet outside 
my imagination, 
And the world views you in better light, 
That’s not dimmed by the shade of 
media; 
Understand that these images of a 
conversation between us are nothing less 
than encouragement; 
Just like “The Voice”, would sing so 
eloquently from her lips; 
The greatest love of all is love for yourself; 
If these words don’t carry enough weight, just look around; 
I’m sure you’ll recognize some ebony queens 
in your family who symbolize support. 
Remember that your fervent heart awakens for a 
reason, 
And the nightmares shall dissolve as you 
rise to awake, B.K. 
A true turning stone you will be.


Bring Relief

Bring Relief

When there are so many mouths to feed 
Missionaries and Deacons we do need
With so much energy, they do express
We must try to straighten out this mess

Unless you had a change of heart
Saturday at St. James we should start
A "Crazy Christians" discussion group
About its meaning along with latest poop

She sure is so great at public speaking
Deacon Jean we are always seeking
She reads God's gospel from church's center
As into us God's spirit will always enter

This message was meant for you my friend
And another one of my emails I shall send
Which may be so simple and very brief
God said, "Your religion should bring relief."

James Serious Mysterious Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

My Fondest Wish

I stare across this lonely room
at your picture on the shelf!
All your lovely memories
have me feeling sorry for myself!

It's been awhile since you've been gone,
but doesn't seem that way.
I feel you're with me all the time,
each and every day!

I try so hard to carry on
and do the best I can.
I find it near impossible 
to accept it like a man!

My friends and family give support
to help me through these times.
I know it's up to me to straighten out,
and that's the bottom line!

So I'll have a talk with the Man upstairs
and pray He'll help me face the fact,
that you're up there with him now,
and you're not coming back!

So, Honey, there you have it.
You'll always be my wife,
but, you're not with me anymore,
I have to get on with my life!

That is my intention,
that's what I plan to do.
My fondest wish when I expire,
is to be, up there again, with you!

Ralph Taylor
12/15/18

Sunshine After the Rain

Sunshine After The Rain

The hours pass and I find the time
To straighten out everything in my mind
No one can know what I’ve put myself through
Not even you understand 
The depths of my love for you

Yes, all I’ve seen and all I’ve come to believe
Lost for a time in the clouds
So the dream couldn’t be perceived
But after day comes the night
After every storm a ray of light
Sunshine after the rain

I look for ways to ease the load we carry
I long to give you strength when you feel weary
I bend over backwards
Turning the world inside out
So that I can stand beside you
Just to love and stand beside you

…After day comes the night
After every storm a ray of light
And I’ll give everything I have for you
To see the sunshine after the rain

Poems For Children Only

Poems for Children Only

If poem seems bad straighten it out for me
So maybe soon eventually I can start to see
What I thought were to be my eccentricities
Compared to yours were all inadequacies.

Many of my verbs may be in wrong tense
Word arrangement never made much sense
Some adverbs should be adjectives instead
And ending of my people often did dread.

Okay, my comrade poets I must confess
What should I do to straighten out this mess?
Start trying to tear all of my poems apart;
Write poems for children only soon do start.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

One In a Million

Picture this: you make a call
To straighten out a bill.
Of course, what you expect’s a battle
Being fought uphill.

Instead, you get dear Caroline
Who listens and who hears,
Which you have not experienced
In many, many years.

She takes your information down
And keeps you on the line.
You aren’t put on hold
Or disconnected by design.

She does a little research
‘Cause she really wants to solve
What the problem is, no matter who
Or what it does involve.

She tracks down radiology
And gets them on the phone – 
(A 3-way call!) explaining
In a calm and measured tone.

I’m blown away to learn that such
A person still exists.
For those of you whose skepticism
Naturally persists…

I understand your reasons
For the playing field is bleak
But with luck you may find Caroline,
An agent quite unique!

River of Dreams

Well, I dunno what I've been living on here 
But I think the sell by date is gone fowl
This rut seems to be so very deep, I fear
That it has swallowed up my soul.

Like an endless roundabout
Every exit is de- ceased
Some folk, they just stop living it out
End up dying piece by piece

But I swear that this is not my fate
For I swear ill be so much more
I'll get to the roundabout in time not late
For the promise of hope is mine ashore

Well this game of patience,
I have played the cards too long
So i think its time to fold
To throw this weary hand in for a song
Before I get too old

Its The same old song, and dance,
The records getting pretty thin
I need to straighten out my road
Till I'm clear from reckless sin

From underneath this rock, 
I'm disappearing here within an ode
New horizons, bring them on 
Am I home

Where have they been all this time
A thousand suns warm my soul and atone
Step into the promised land and shine
I'm finding it all
Across the river

Happiness, yes i remember this but I'm wary
Though it seems so constantly so long ago
It seems so very scary 
The thought of just letting myself go

Yet look at this effervescent idyllic place
I've found myself in,
I waded through this soul rivers nameless face
Till the waters under my chin

I'm finding it all
Across the river

A little sacrifice then in adventure mode
For the rest of my life to begin
So this is my beginning new road
Always moving never standing still, I win

I wont put up or shut up for the law
This time I need, for me
Its not that I hate those before
But its no longer enough you see

Jump right in, the currents strong I'm in
Sweeping me to where I wanna be
I don't have a care i'm soaked to the skin
This new seen sun will envelope me

I have found it all
Across the river
© Gail Lewis  Create an image from this poem.

Trump Over and Over

Trump Over and Over

Around with him have to hassle and hassle
So he built Trump Tower which is a castle
And of does deliberately seem to be proud
Can always be seen standing out in a crowd.

Trump surely delights in all of its dazzle
Right along with much abundant razzle
And decided to add to his drastic dream
By buying a formidable football team.

Team had played games weeks after weeks
Then he would send out tweets and tweaks 
About making his fabulous fortune and fame
Doing dirty deeds and up others did frame.

Now no matter where he may have went
Became known as Trump the Turbulent
Stirring up bad weather and also much
With Republican Party staying in touch.

Now of Trump wish they would see less
And are trying to straighten out big mess
Which they will always have been in
Over and over and again and again.

So why would anyone ever want Trump
After putting him together lump and lump
To try and swallow he has become a hard pill
What else would you expect from an imbecile?

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet

Can you imagine. 2,501st poem written.
Can't wait for next election. I understand
Howdy Dowdy will be running and the
Three Stooges will be in his cabinet.

http://www.poetrysoup.com/search/google_results.aspx?cx=partner-pub-3034358392230435:7641951580&cof=FORID:10&ie=UTF-8&q=trump%20poems%20by%20James%20Horn&sa=Search
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Frugal Artist

How I love, just to create; 
making things, with wire 
and other old scraps.  
Settling on a design, 
I will make it to sell, 
but my accounting’s not quite straight.

I’ll begin my project, straight 
away; what I create, 
I hope to sell.
I build an armature, of wire 
and follow my design; 
there are always many scraps.

I keep my scraps, 
well managed; so that they are straight.
I have so many designs 
and little time left, to create.
I love to work with wire; 
earning money, when it sells.

When my creations do not sell, 
I’ll deconstruct them, for scraps.  
I use pliers, on the wires, 
to get them straight 
enough, to create 
all new designs.

When other artists design, 
creations they will sell; 
they too, create 
from old scraps.
I don’t know if they straighten
Out and reuse their wire.

I go buy and use their wire, 
in my new designs.
Running out, I’ll call them, straight
away to see if, scraps, they’ll sell.
I’ll straighten out those crinkled scraps 
and enjoy the act of creating.

Many artists, toss away, the wire that’s not straight.
I’m out to earn with my designs and save money on scraps.
I truly enjoy selling; earning money, with what I create.

Poetic Schedule




Monday ... hit ‘em with a hard ballpoint slam
Shake the weekend ‘nish out of their veins
Tuesday ... hot comb straighten out the political wigs
Give the trough lap dogs some cynicism pain
Wednesday ... make their pen ride uncomfortable on the hump
Tell a shorty stuck backhoe mole ditch is looking big
Thursday ... turn the sundial back ten degrees with an ink bump
Square the pretty posers center left of the cam
Friday ... check my girl’s curvaceous cursive print body of love
Hopeful souls need some spiritual sunshine to reign
Saturday ... bring a light-hearted saber to the round table gig
There be smiles and smiles to go to reach the mystic muse sky above
Sunday ... give a writeous sermon that make ‘em shout and jump
Preach the double truth about I AM THAT I AM

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