Best Tie Up Poems
I love those days, certain special days
when I can tie up my troubles
and send them away
to set them adrift, a balloon in the sky
getting smaller and smaller
no wondering why
I love those days, certain special days
when I feel in control,
when darkness abates
when direction is certain
and doubt is a fool
happy and positive thoughts to rule
There are many balloons,
I see in the sky
many troubles adrift, all set free by
those who are worried and in pain
I wonder, perhaps
if that’s what makes it rain
Two decades old,
Soft skin light toned,
Bushy brown hair,
skinny slim built,
Eyes blue as the sky,
Emotions and mind,
All so very shy.
Born a Capricorn,
Raised in a working class,
Ball full of energy,
shattering plates and glass,
Father held the iron fist,
Mothers mind in a mist,
Smacking, screaming, shouting,
Reminders of him as a kid,
While she was there to kiss.
Talented athlete at school,
Hung out with kids to cool,
Social pint was empty,
Only half filled with Pepsi,
Peers drank beer,
while I stayed in the clear,
Teachers had crumpet faces,
telling me to tie up my laces,
I wish id listen,
But crunched an apple,
kneeling down in the chapel,
ignoring those prayers,
fed up with restricted care.
Flickering strobes,
Shiny lazer beam lights,
Bikie gangs making me feel so bright,
Strange faces everywhere,
in a cosmos they share,
lit up like christmas,
While satan grants their wish list,
Drenched in sweat,
I realised I was running,
from throbbing headaches and pains,
Cloudy Sunday mornings,
driving me insane.
Spaceship landed,
Half matured man,
half wondering wolf,
Paws deep in mud,
preventing my quest,
for a partner in love,
Mary howls her hisses,
in strong gale winds,
Sunrise to sunset,
Fed up waiting for him,
To taste a teaspoon of courage,
To pop a balloon full of wisdom,
Sitting too comfortably,
In his own prison.
I saw a feller today with a sign readin', 'WORLD ENDS TOMORROW!"
Lord! Have mercy! That's all I need - more troubles to borrow!
I called the preacher who knows all about celestial things,
But he had no such revelation (usually borne by angelic wings)!
But I'm a cautious feller who likes to plan things well in advance,
So ere my eternal bourne begins, I'd rather not take a chance!
With so few hours left I'll tie up some loose odds and ends,
And for my many past indiscretions, I'll try to make amends!
In my youth I smoked corn silk cigarettes behind the barn.
Many vile oaths have crossed my tongue beyond a casual 'darn'!
I sassed my Ma and more than once her sage advice ignored.
Do You reckon You could overlook my feckless youth, dear Lord?
I reckon 'tis a little late to see things finished that I've begun.
Life is so very fleet I fear I've left too many things undone.
But thanks to that feller's warnin' I'm ready to face my fate.
But, Lord, could the whole thing be postponed if it ain't too late?
This ominous event will settle my dilemma regarding predestination.
But hold on! From whence did that feller get his revelation?
Shucks! I bet he's one of them false prophets the Bible talks about!
Fiddle faddle! Tomorrow I'm gonna go fishin' to cast about for trout!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I’m tired of you.
Back stabbing me and not keeping it true.
Deceiving and lying
When I caught you, here comes the fake crying
The sad bedroom eyes hiding behind a guilty face
The phony kisses and the warm embrace
What you hide in the dark always come out in the light
Sometimes our secrets we thought we hid is revealed in our own sight
You claimed you loved me
But it’s more like you hate or envy me
If you really don’t love me just let me be
Everyday I tried, believe me I prayed
But I hope you don’t think you’re here to stay
I even loved you when you did not love me
“So why are you still with me?”
So take your shoes and go
Don’t tie up your laces so slow
Remember I gave you love when nobody else would
I even took away your doubts that every man is no good
“Shush don’t say nothing don’t even talk.”
Just take your shoes and walk
What am I missing?
every day I
bounce in all directions
through the door
off ceilings, walls, floors
rattling around wondering
what am I here for?
husband kissing
off to work
while I stay in
and create a din
of crazy commotion
out of my notions
I'll do this, no that-
no that needs to be done
Utterly distracted, no time for fun
starting a bit of everything
pulling loose too many strings
to tie up by end of day-
I do it daily, anyway
knowing it's madness
staving off sadness
by feeling busy
what's wrong with me?
what am I missing here?
what can't I see?
If I could just stop myself
shove “busy-ness” back on a shelf
and work on clearing
out the mess in my head...
but somehow it's easier
to tackle the laundry
or go scrub the toilet
or make up the bed
Husband asks, are you okay?
do we need to do things
in a different way?
are you happy here?
do you need to work?
after all these years, still
confused by moods and quirks
No, there's no other place
that I'd rather be-
and I'm never bored
with my books and hobbies!
but- with all that said
I just wish I could
do something worthwhile
something really good
something no one else
in the world could do-
Then he smiles and says
...like being you?
There's been a breaking news report about Santa's reindeer.
While flying over Russia, they were lassoed by vile Vladimir!
"I'm determined to ruin Christmas for everyone this year.
Too many smiling faces in the world," he said with a sneer.
An envelope arrived at the Kremlin. Postage was first class.
And a note scribbled from a poet's hand, that was rather crass.
It read, Here's a gift for you. I found it in a pile on my grass.
I hope it reminds you of the poop that plopped from your ass.
Putin was enraged! Someone took a photo of his snarling jeer.
When it was shown on the news, the world let out a cheer!
He's going to take revenge, and wants everyone to live in fear
but I think there's a hero who's going to take down Vladimir.
The one who'll save Christmas is a jolly man in a red suit.
Usually he's kind to others, but not to one of such ill repute.
He'll get back all eight reindeer and his sleigh filled with loot
and tie up old Valdimir, that obnoxious murderous brute!
Santa wasn't injured when putrid Putin captured the reindeer.
Laying a finger beside his nose, he got himself into first gear.
"I'll nuke him," Santa said, "Blast his butt out the hemisphere!
Then deliver toys to girls and boys. Fly home and have a beer."
I feel safe in a rhyme.
With a rhyme you can
Close off a thought,
Tie up loose ends.
There she was, sad and bereft,
weeping hard with troubled signs,
lone, desolate she was left,
walking midst overgrown vines,
Love memories she did hold,
reminiscing them, she’d soar,
but that day, gloom did enfold,
as tears continued to pour,
The graveyard was neglected,
hued leaves and branches lay there,
it made her more dejected,
the feel of death in the air,
She would clutch on to grim thoughts,
when she did inhale his scent,
her heart would tie up in knots,
that fragrance made her lament,
He was alive in her heart,
but felt so tangible here,
where his grave drove them apart,
but where she could grasp him near,
Losing herself in mind’s maze
with a sob, a gasp, she cried,
she wandered there in half-daze,
in recollections she’d glide,
To this day, she finds comfort
when she visits his graveyard,
tears would clasp her heart in hurt,
her love’s death has left her... s c a r r e d.
06.29.2021
For Constance La France's "Writing Prompt - Grasp" contest
Creaky bones,
I must be getting old.
Creaky bones,
But I will not be told.
Creaky bones,
Those stairs are hard to climb.
Creaky bones,
I will not moan and whine.
Creaky bones,
Bending to tie up shoes.
Creaky bones,
Waiting in those long queues.
Creaky bones,
Once young, now aging fast.
Creaky bones,
Soon I’ll have that free bus pass.
Creaky bones.
Technology is matter built to mind our fusions and confessions of relaxation, tie up the man who believe not what you believe, and praises those like you, and pay homage to the one who makes you believe
Name the shame and project it in reason, seasoning the wounds with lies and killing the truth so much that question of dreams are reality of answers, in noise of poverty, earring of gold and riches, touches of slavery and vision of desires.
I sit, in a sited position thought consuming the mind, silence at its dept, and emotion at brinks of uncertainty, call me what you but never call me a reader of this encrypted life, deciphered by the same person who is clueless too.
Some say we create our own fate, some say we born to with a purpose, some say we are in search of a destination that has no map,
Some people are followers like those who live inside the barriers of lawful codes, and some are prisoners to it,
But some are what they are
So i ask again in aged time of seconds gone by,
Are you a creator or computer?
Lebron Spirits
Hopscotch, barbie dolls, playing house and jump rope
Puddle jumping, finger painting, needing lots of soap
Baking cookies, stuffed animals and having a pet rock
Vibrant drawings on the driveway with colorful chalk
Dance recitals, swimming lessons and girl guides
Zoo visits, riding bikes and amusement rides
Beach pails, sand castles, playing in the sun
Building snow men, tobogganing, oh what fun
Make up, nail polish, and lots of pretty dresses
Pigtails, clips and head bands that tie up lovely tresses
Bubble baths, cuddles and telling fairy tales
Playing dress up... pretend weddings with silky veils
Hide and go seek, swing rides and trips to the dollar store
Tea sets, making crafts and laughter and smiles galore
Kisses, hugs, abundance of love, never will she be deprived
Time to rejoice for my precious first grand child has arrived.
Abigail Clara Rose
Born March 11, 2012
Pity my city
I pity my city there is no dignity in this city
There is no justice no freedom
Street children in a locked hall, shocking
County council overworking
The city must be clean so some humans are garbage
Some are cabbage, the garbage pay the damage
No houses sleep on spillage
But there are human rights
There are human right activists
There is the department of justice
All filled with malice
Pockets practice
Gross malpractice
Injustice, silence
You are in court
Guilty of court contempt
Another charge
The bail or the sentence
I’m bailed out in silence
Next time just bring your presence
Retain your silence
I was told
You will be safe.
My phone is gone, my shirt is torn
No bus fare so I walk alone
I think a lot, go back home or not
I remember I am a poet
I write a poem, a paradox
Pain in the city
I pity my city there is no dignity in my city.
Never what I came for
Likewise not what I prepared for
To be robbed by those I voted for
I am not happy anymore
My city is no more
I don’t wish for more
I just want go
not the city I know.
not where I wanted to grow
cartels make us bow
Now, now, now, it is time.
Time to know I am grown
And carry always my identity card
The men in blue are out bad
And always never forget also to carry ‘kitambulisho ya polisi’
Hawa watu ni mabeast na mafisi, human hyenas
time to tie up my seat belt whenever in a matatu,
sina mia tano ya kulipa coti kila saa na sitaki kulala ndani siku tatu
two days I am locked up inside my own head
spinning spinning, my thoughts are dead
the life so far I have led
no step has been made
no journey finished
No house furnished
Time is running and broke is sickening
My heart is listening, my brain is calculating
I have to act quick, just do something
The weather so good for chilling, but bad for singles
Life is unfair
No dream has been real
No love to heal
No feel
No deal
Just the bill
More and more bills
The city is fattening
Wanjiku is sickening
From Nys to health to Tunnels
It is all on the channels
How they on the seat eat
Meat
The citizen kitty is gone
The city is torn
Get the president on the phone
Call the press, what must be done be done
Impunity will not rule this city
Dignity must be restored
This city no more a pity
Bring back the citizen kitty
Say no more
The city.
Boxing match in Patois
de warm blood splash on me face
me was startle
wid de blood all over
de place
me lookin out for police
man
but is legal (no disgrace)
ding dong de bell go wild
all dey people like a child
dem
shoutin and dey take dey booze
dey hit anyone dey choose
me get up to go, no want dey
boxin show, no more dance around the ring
to do dey blood splashing ting
me short,me glove,me tie-up shoe
up to attic dey all go
me boy no more dey boxing dude
now dey rum and pot of food
flaky memories
selective priority
tie up his spirit
while drifting further away
snuff out his love with distance
©144830052014
Miss Scarlet was driving her car across town.
She had a meeting with Professor Plum at the library .
It was regarding a paper she had written in the study at home.
About the life of Colonel Mustard and the revolver he carried during the war.
Mrs. White was on her way to the school.
She had just left the kitchen,she forgot to put the knife away.
So she slipped it in her purse, she had colored eggs baskets for her students.
It was near Easter and she was driving to the ballroom to set up for the party.
Now, Mrs. Peacock was angry.
She had brought a rope to use to tie up the hole in the hutch.
Her prize bunnies were escaping, her best sales were during Easter time.
She needed to secure the hutch so that no rabbits would escape.
Mrs. Peacock put a wrench in her purse to secure the bolts on the hutch.
Well nobody knows what really happened next, they can only surmise.
All they know is the rabbit was lying in a pool of Easter eggs and baskets.
Three cars were totaled in the accident, all of the women died.
What was peculiar was what else they saw.
A wrench,a rope, and a knife, were found at the scene.
No one had a clue as to where, how, or why?
In the meantime, Professor Plum was in the Library with the revolver.
2-27-13
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