Best Suitcase Poems
Consider, Recall, Reflect, Hesitate, Tremble
Before your life's vast sweep.
Step back; Try to fathom
How much it's all meant.
Crease, Fold, Pile, Stack, Mark
Each decade's clothing you've worn.
Pause! Write a poem to
Bid all your lovers adieu.
Whimper, Cry, Sob, Weep for--
Last suitcase ever you'll pack.
March 07, 2018
Categories:
suitcase, destiny, journey, life, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
Every morning, when I walk under my cherry trees,
There is soothing breeze which awakens my senses,
The flash back of life events roll before my eyes,
I am sent in soul searching and search for the meaning of life,
Long ago, I came to USA with a suitcase full of clothes,
A few dollars which government allowed, lasted only half a month,
Tearfully I had to take a loan, with lot of hesitation,
Loan office quipped, “If you are not in debt, you are not an American”.
Years passed, took many loans, paid many,
Worked hard, made some money,
Family flourished, till all moved,
Now I am in an empty nest.
Now I get kissed daily by,
The passing breeze of awakening,
What good is life if it does not help anyone,
Needy need food, money to educate, keep them healthy.
When I sponsor few needy students to go thru college,
I am not helping just one, but generations to come,
When hungry get food, they become strong and get ready to work,
When sick gets better, their whole life sees wonderful future.
As for awakening, I am moving away from selfish life,
Wrapping up my earthly belongings,
Readying my one suitcase,
Never know when the call comes to leave the world.
Categories:
suitcase, life,
Form:
Verse
There is a poor poor man
I watch frigid winds blow his way
He carries his suitcase of regret
As his light slowly turns to grey
If only he puts it down
I'm sure he'd be okay
But he keeps on carrying it
day after day.
As I go into my house
I keep thinking about him
The light that was bright
That's now starting to dim
Is there anything of value
to him I might bring?
All I possess are my thoughts
and the songs that I sing.
I think "I'm being silly"
So I put him out of my mind
It's the start of my becoming
both regretful and blind
As l start to carry it,
this burden of the mind
My own spirit diminishes,
I become a bit less kind
People keep coming and knocking
I don't answer my own door
I wonder if one day,
they won't come any more?
My cup of regrets,
overflows onto the floor
Why oh why,
do I continue to pour?
My mind is now aching
My heart feels so sore
What is wrong with me
I feel sad to my core.
By ignoring my brother
My own heart I can't mend
I want to be a real person
Yet all I do is pretend
The whisper of a thought
that I'm to afraid to send
Might help to bring
another's pain to an end
So I open my door
Head out onto the street
There is a poor poor man
I'm now ready to meet
Our hearts aren't much different
Each has a convoluted beat
We have our own regrets
and we have tired feet
Burdens are lightened
When we learn to let them go
Then through the grey concrete
We can watch flowers grow
Sure the winds can be cold
Yet they eventually slow
The sun breaks through the clouds
Through our lives the light now flows
There is a path that is less traveled
let us find out where it goes!
I was inspired to write this poem after Reading the poetry of "Inspired Heart"
It got me to thinking about my own baggage and the things I choose to carry.
When we don't reach out to others our own bags become just a bit heavier.
Categories:
suitcase, addiction, angst, beautiful, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
My darling, you've lost the power of speech
But your smiles and laughter need no interpretation!
All I have are memories; some hazy, some clear
Is it crazy that I can't remember what your voice sound like?
You would talk to anyone and everyone!
You'd brighten the day of the street cleaner
And put the lower deck of the bus under your spell
The atmosphere would change from silence to laughter
Helplessly infected by your rich sense of humour
It breaks my heart that you don't know who I am
The one who played a major part in your life
Sometimes, we'd sit for ages and not verbalise
But as our eyes locked, a thousand visual words would spill
No need to ask for translation
Our thoughts and emotions laid bare
Now, when I start to sing your favourite songs
Your eyebrows rise in faint rememberance
But it should be me that you recognise!
I talk to you as if you'd understand
As I've no idea what your brain does know
A smell, a sound might just open your door
Bring a light to your darkened, tangled world
There are times when you give warm, tender kisses
I never want to part my lips from yours!
Then you go and breathe hot, sweet breath into my mouth
That tells me, "I do love you, darling, I do!"
Then there are the moments when you gently hold my hand
I'm reluctant to wash it after that!
It speaks of an unbreakable, unmistakeable bond
Of journeys through joy and sorrow
I need those arms of yours around me once again
Telling me our love is strong
I need your squeeze of the shoulders once more
And your reassuring, "It's alright, Pet"
But in the end, a pair of wooden arms
Drape around my back
Devoid of feeling; of heart and soul
Instead of those reassuring words
I hear a feeble, "rararara"
Your chest like a rumbling lawnmower
Black, empty eyes ask, "Who are you?"
Oh this Alzheimer's has taken you captive!
So I must cherish these precious moments
And make room in my suitcase for happy times
Preserved forever, to bring out a smile
Categories:
suitcase, caregivingme, heart, sound, heart,
Form:
Free verse
Thus packed, my simple case
What love, lost, does displace
Clothes and dreams and needs
The waste of passion's deeds
And folded with my shirts
The remnants of your hurts
Still left, such ample room
(Enough to be my tomb)
Though it can never hold
My tattered heart ... now cold.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "It's A Shorty" Poetry Contest, Deborah Guenther Beachboard, Sponsor.
Categories:
suitcase, heartbreak, hurt, lost love,
Form:
Couplet
you will never know where you forget it
or lose it,
the night is an overstuffed suitcase
that you never know when it will open wild,
i saw you walking, even more,
i touched you a little with my elbow
everywhere
on the platform it opened like the mouth of a boa constrictor,
i see me running with a red ribbon in my hand,
for the first time we are face to face
overwhelmed by our presence
we become dwarfs: ”poems, poems,… how much lipothymia,
these poems really did it to us, it brought us into exasperation ”- you bite your chapped lips,
i look at your fingers, searching to hold a cigarette between your lips
no words
naive, i repeat "stay, stay", the train is coming
it's time to live, you lift your suitcase (tightly tied)
i see a rabbit with wet, bright eyes running,
it's autumn, the leaves are like red crabs hanging in the trees,
i clench my teeth, my hands, my eyes tighten, again
determined i want to squeeze all the pain (i would make a fat must),
i want to slap my face,
so, i wake up
to remember how in school i had to learn the names of every war battle,
to learn the name of each river, bridge,
the name of each soldier,
if i knew them, i would be given a red pioneer tie
(which needed to be ironed and kept close to my bed)
at night
stuffed like an old suitcase
the train leaves,
as if through the fog I see you on the platform: - do you want a cigarette,
- thank you, i don't smoke.
(the smoke rolls like a boa constrictor)
Categories:
suitcase, africa, age, analogy, april,
Form:
Free verse
You stood in your bedroom
clutching your Paddington Bear suitcase
With tears in your eyes
you said you’re leaving home
You’d packed your toy cars
and brightly coloured Lego bricks
Don’t forget your favourite bear
I said with a smile
Please don’t leave me son …
It’s not easy being three!
10 lines 5 words III contest
Sponsored by Laura Loo
3/14/18
Categories:
suitcase, child, home, leaving, parents,
Form:
Free verse
MAN IN A SUITCASE
Used to joke how Gregory Peck was my father
But never knew why I was called Sydney.
Or why Australia’s city was named after me -
And a dozen other cities around the world farther.
My dad surely was where mum’s love-treasure was spent,
But died before I was born and before they could marry.
Her family hated this guy but she was tough, didn’t worry,
And named me after the man for whom she was meant.
She never discussed her feelings buried,
Showed no photos, never talked about him to me.
Broken hearted I guess. Who wouldn’t be?
I never knew the man she would have married.
I didn’t really cotton to the name I had.
I preferred Alan or Steve or maybe Vincent
And a dozen other names meant for a gent,
Regardless of who may have been my dad.
I also disliked the name for its ambiguity, this name Sydney
- Sort of amphibious. A name in American movies - for women,
It could swim across the ocean and in British movies - for men,
(Always small-time crooks who were chirpy and cockney).
No, I never liked the name. It wasn’t worth a jitney
To me; and I used other nicknames for many a year,
It was only used in mockery for it was relatively rare.
Even today, “Syd” is ok; but please, never call me “Sydney”
But I found a dusty old suitcase and lifted its lid
After she passed away. Her life’s treasurechest,
And out rolled some gold, photo of old soldier dressed
In uniform: he looked like me: the name on back was Syd.
That moment - Damascus Road - change of heart.
Now, proud to have it, say it, hear it. Nicknames I forbid.
I like it especially when my loving wife says “Syd”
Now with this name I’d never part.
…………………………………………………………………………………………….
Written for Linda-Marie’s contest WHAT’S IN A NAME?
Categories:
suitcase, familyme, old, me, old,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
My heart is an empty suitcase
That I store in the attic
It waits for me to fill it with all the things I need to leave.
One time I took it down overhead
stepping on the stepladder
down to the hall to my closet,
And filled it with carefully folded shirts and pants and good looking things
Thinking about the tablecloths and napkins that were folded neatly at a great restaurant where I’d sit across from you
After landing and driving and picking you up and driving and sitting down.
My navy blue, hardshell suitcase had an old airline tag that an airport girl abruptly ripped off before putting on a fresh new one.
I thought about her green eyes while you and I had dinner that night.
When I got home, I unpacked and threw everything on the floor and carried my empty suitcase back up to the attic.
But when I got down from the attic stairs,
Your turquoise scarf was laying on top of the clothes
And I thought of your eyes
Before they closed
While I watched them
last night.
Categories:
suitcase, clothes, heart, loneliness, moving
Form:
Free verse
Nothing has left but these plenty of clothes
Not even the burden from the past
Not even happiness that had last
Out of the wonderland is the last destination
Living in the world that swept all the love
You find your first love but you fail to grip it along
Failure is not the last word of your journey
Second story would be pleased to fill the other pages
Diving in a depth of relationship
You learn how life is challenging
You learn how to embrace your mistakes
You learn how to accept it
Smoke filled your lungs
You tried to release it
But it dwells within its stain
No complain after all
Nevertheless life never play easy on you
The first, second or even third needle of time would not turn back
Though everything has already in place even it's right or wrong
The word of regret never persuade you to give up
For everything has done for a reason
For everything meant to be beautiful
Though everything has happened just happened
But your sweet love one day would change your world
With this clarity you will make your world
With this sincere heart you will find your love
With this strong character you will win back your life
Life in a box of a suitcase teaches you how to live a life
Categories:
suitcase, inspirational, life, , sweet
Form:
Free verse
A blue-eyed man
knocked on the door to my heart.
I opened.
But the ways of life got us crushed
I realize I have to get unbroken.
Pack up the suitcase, leave for other parts
on to the unspoken.
Categories:
suitcase, introspection
Form:
Rhyme
Tortoiseshell tulips often grow at left angles to the moon and are otherwise adjusted to a sealed lip of ground. But a curled canopy of shredded wheat and oats make even the wildest of gardens bloom. It is within the great oceanography of a garden pond that a frog captains a lily ship and focusses his attention upon net fly duties. Net fly duties should really be carried out by professional belchers and professional belchers are neither belly flopping divers or baseball beaks. So it is wise to dip ones toe into a glass to test the temperature. Well that's what the mouse said anyway. And the ideological wisdom of mice can be magically pronounced using an abacus. But only at cheese and wine evenings for cheese and wine evenings are shawls and suit occasions that attract the most elitist of the world's largest colony of mussels, prawns, earwigs, lemons, and flower garden eared people who line up to sup the wares of such an expanse of shipments. It is within a glitter ball that a long lost object can be found. Finding favours favourably finished flavours. And a catacomb filled with a million cats is not a basin of porridge jumping over a sealed off bridge. So it is wise to keep to the pavements of the static safety zones. So as to not be ravished, attacked and harmed by the many cotton buds who dance up and down looking for dramas. Didn't the little ant do well today in the gymnastics competition? Yes. And now it is time for the passing of the seven towel rails. Argument over. Good. Thoughts tailored tailoring traditional travelling. And an eavesdropping hawk swooping in a bright pink hat. Haha marks make make-up man hahaha left handed cooking device meets an array of teaspoons. Xxxxx intercontinental Z z Z Z
Categories:
suitcase, baseball,
Form:
So my son is knocking up
The alphabet at the worktable
He's onto the letter 'j'
(Should it have a hat or not?)
"Downward stroke, with a curl,
Then stab his face."
He's onto the letter 't'
(The Romans pronounced it 'tay')
"Downward stroke, then slap
Him across the mug."
The ancients kept reversing and
Rotating them
I do the same with my son
And as he's tucked into bed
I regret the bloodthirsty
Language I used
Be careful what you utter
To a child
"Dad, I'm going to blow your glasses off."
Categories:
suitcase, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
My room implodes
As I pack my bag.
I drag it from the corners
And pull it down to the center
Brushing off the old stardust
To make room for new.
It is a black hole and I
Am on the edge of it
Standing here in a near vacuum
Capturing the last few breaths
Of old air
And holding them in my lungs.
Categories:
suitcase, angst, fear, growing up,
Form:
Free verse
til death do us part
still breathing with a suitcase
another lie
Categories:
suitcase, betrayal, break up, pain,
Form:
Senryu