Best Undid Poems


Premium Member How Could I Not Remember

I remember you holding me in your arms
Rocking me gently while singing lullabies

I remember when you lived a short walk away
Relatives were local and get-togethers were the norm
I remember your amazing purple mohair sweater
You knit exquisitely and wore so gracefully

I remember your scented creams and signature ring
I never grew tired of holding your hand
And telling you how much I loved you

I remember watching in awe your bedtime routine 
As you meticulously undid your braided coif
Dropping your soft wavy hair to your waist

I remember you never missed Sunday mass
And held on to that glow throughout the week
You knew about plants with their healing powers
Neighbors came to you for answers and advice

I remember how you would scrape savings for travel
Always working in visits to friends who had moved away

I remember the aroma of the pies you baked
After tireless hours of quilting, sewing, weaving
Embroidery, knitting, crocheting, and whatever else

I remember there was nothing you couldn’t do
You started tutoring me when I was three
And probably earlier as I was eager to learn
It was my favorite form of play

I remember hearing your schoolhouse stories
I’d picture a little house in a field and your teacher attire
Your turn-of-the-century class full of kids
Then I’d let you continue teaching me to read, write and count
Though I wasn’t yet of school age

I remember being uprooted and moving to the country
Leaving city life and you behind

I remember how good life was when I had you
To turn to for support and guidance
Or just for your warm bountiful embrace

I remember getting that gut wrenching feeling 
That bitter call in the middle of the day
As I was told the crushing news
I would never again see, touch or hold you
How can I not remember
The inconsolable devastation that never dimmed



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~ALWAYS WITH ME~ 2020

AP: 1st place 2020

Submitted on September 26, 2017 for contest LOVE FOR MOVIE SCREEN sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 2ND

Butterfly Kisses

In her room decorated like a princess’s, she sat quietly on the floor.
Carefully wrapping a small gold box and keeping an eye on the door. 
She twirled the silver ribbons and tied it on the wrapped box. 
Made a pretty bow and hid the gift in the draw with her socks. 

On the Morning of his birthday, she jumped up on his bed
And smothered him with butterfly kisses on his cheeks and forehead
“Happy Birthday Dad” she said excitedly and handed out her present.
He sat up and hugged his little girl who was definitely God sent.

He slowly undid the wrappings and admired her creativeness.
For it was the little things she did that made his life full of bliss.
But when he opened the box there was nothing there that he could see
A little confused he said “my angel, the box seems empty”.

With her soft angelic voice, came the most priceless reply
“They’re Butterfly Kisses I blew for you, dad, for when I’m not nearby.
I know you can’t see them, but it’s filled with my love too                                                                                   for every time you have a bad day at work and when you are feeling blue.” 

He smiled and hugged her tight and tried to hide the tears.
For his little girl of six years old is wise beyond her years.
And whenever he has a bad day and his little girl he misses.
he just opens the little gold box to receive her love and butterfly kisses.

Premium Member Mountains

Her huge boobies he longed to discover - 
Vast mountains, quite unlike any other
He undid her bra strap
She gave him a big slap
Said hands off, or I’ll tell my big brother!

Inspired by but not for mountains contest
07~11~16


Gbudu Gbang

ENOUGH WITH YOUR 
IRRITATING RUMPUS 
PANDEMONIUM GBUDU 
GBANG!
ARE YOU THE ONLY ONE HERE?
"I AM MY ME"...AND SO WHAT?
ARE YOU THE FIRST OR THE 
LAST,
TO HAVE ACHIEVED THAT 
FEAT?
THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE AND 
ABLE?
IF YOU CARE....
JOB DIED WHILE APPLE, 
FRESH.

OOOOH GBUDU GBANG WHY?
WHEN WILL ALL THIS 
COMMOTION STOP?
THE LASS WAS A TODDLER 
WHEN YOU ENCOUNTERED 
ANAANU
AND STILL HARK BACK 
HULLABALOO.
DID WE NOT HAIL YOU WHEN 
YOU OUTWITTED THE 
OUTWITTER?
WHEN YOU UNWOVEN 
ANANSE'S BYZANTINE WEB
AND UNDID HIS MYSTICAL 
LOOMS, DID WE NOT PRAISE 
YOUR WIT?
SO WHY THE HARK BACK 
HULLABALOO?

I TELL YOU,WE ARE NOT TIRED 
OF YOUR EXPLOITS
BUT OF THEIR STALE 
CELEBRATIONS.
IF ONLY I COULD GET YOU 
ENOUGH WATER TO SWALLOW
TO FILL THE NOISY THIRSTY 
EMPTINESS OF UR LUMEN
THEN WE COULD HEAR THE 
SWALLOW'S CHIRP.
FOR HE TOO I KNOW,HAS A 
GREAT STORY TO TELL.
AND WHO KNOWS?
THE FEATHERED FELLOW 
MIGHT PUT A FEATHER IN 
YOUR CAP.
GBUDU GBANG!!!

Strip Down

I went up, to the cashier
With my bank card in my hand
She said, "Strip down facing me"
Something I'd misunderstand

"Right now and here?", I asked her
Modesty held me askew
She said, "If you want service,"
"That is what you'll have to do!"

The look on her face told me
She'd not wait a minute more
So I undid my trousers
And they fell down to the floor!

Then she rolled her eyes and said,
Words much to my chagrin
She said, "Strip down facing me,"
"Is how, your card go's in!
© Pat Adams  Create an image from this poem.

Little Change

The day started with the teams made
but as one girl heard the news,
she just wanted to fade
fade like an old bruise

She knew her team wouldn’t
Let her be who she wanted
As they thought she couldn’t
Have any skills that she never flaunted

The games had started 
But the girl was stuck at the start
The others hadn’t parted
For her to play smart

They were strict
But then there was quite a change
Not as focused on being perfect
The girl was let play, it was strange

But then she realized
They did it so the teacher 
Wouldn’t noticed her cries
And see her as a caged creature

She tried to change things 
And they kind of did
But all was lost as she sings
About the unfairness she almost undid

-Megan
© Megan L   Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Holy Cow, It's Big Foot

 As an orange sun sets in the west
Silhouetting the trees
Flashes of orange and bright, bright white
Sights eyes can not believe

What were those flashes of orange
And white so clean and bright
Curiosity got my interest
And covered all the fright

As soon as next day's sun came up
On a trek to explore
In the woods and up the mountain
This enigma can't ignore

It was a long hard climb to the top
But there were flowers blooming.
In the shade, on the forest floor
Seemed something was looming

In fright I crept along the path
Well beaten by creatures
Mice, squirrels, and chipmonks footsteps
Along the trail featured

Then there asleep just outside a cave 
Wearing nothing but shoes
White high top athletic pair
An orange ape peruse

Holy cow, it's bigfoot sound asleep
Just inside the cave more
High top athletic shoes bright white
To keep them clean a chore

Bigfoot began to move and stretch
Behind a tree I hid
He began to unlace his shoes
And those big feet undid

Augh!!! The odor that came from those
Feet, I almost got sick
He went down to the creek and washed
Coming back really quick

He threw the smelly shoes in the wash
And powdered down some clean
Danced away across the forest
Awaking me from dreams

Sponsor: Skat A (Poet, Destroyer A)
Contest: Bigfoot (the contest)
Written: April 20, 2015
Author: Sara Kendrick

unfinished

After I Got Rich

As from his Book of Rules He read,
“Tsk-tsk tsk-tsk, St. Peter said.

So PICKED up I my bags and left
For that damnéd lower cleft.

I stomped away then turned and paused.
How much fuss had my fib caused?

A pardon'd come if I'd just wait.
Saint Pete just smiled then shut the gate.

God appeared with old St. Pete.
"We've a problem. We've got to meet." 

St. Peter said, "It's quite unique.
It's your records. We took a peek

at our polls, all done by Gallup.
Found your number. It's not up.

It takes us two to set things right.
I brought God to use his might." 

God said, "I've never sent souls back.
I did some research. Found a hack.

Turns out this problem's easily fixed.
Just stand still. My potion's mixed." 

A wink a nod a look my way
and God undid the whole last day.

They shook my hand and bade farewell,
said I wouldn't Go to Hell.

They faded slowly from my sight 
and dimmed their glow to black as night.

I reappeared, surprised my wife,
told her let's get on with life.

My death was just a clerical error.
They sent me back. It's only fairer.

We smooched and hugged, went out to eat.
Had pickled oysters fused with meat. 

We ordered crêpes with grated pear 
and lit 'em up to add some flair. 

Then I pondered what to do.
I quick thought up a thing or two.

I'd profit from financial schemes
using cash inversion themes.

I'd buy a cat and teach it tricks 
to wow the guests at trader Vic's. 

I'd give them all tatami mats
and waterproof electric hats. 

I paused a moment. I could see
My brand-new stuff was vintage me!

I mused a while: what to do?
I mused some more and then I knew.

I'm only happy being me. 
My plan was simple as can be.

I'll carry on with selling stuff
like pitted prunes and candied snuff!
© John Mudge  Create an image from this poem.

I Am Africa

I am Africa

I.
Distant 
And lonely 
I am
The barren land
Of untoward change,
The empty womb, 
The amputated hands,
I am 
The Maker of new worlds
I am 
Africa.

I am 
The broken voice
Of the tall woman who undid
The family knot
Set my caged birds free
And set traps to owls and falcons
I am 
The step to freedom
I am Africa.

I am 
Gorée 
Dahomey
Porto-Novo
Bimbia
And the boat
That sailed to the New Land.

I am
The aftermath of revolutions,
Theories and tempests.

I am
The dark forest no longer at ease
The things fall apart
Hopes and impediments
Leurres et lueurs.

I am not
The other world of the Heart
Of darkness nor the wrath in
Return to my native land
I am 
Neither Aids nor Ebola.
What then am I?
Or what else am I?
                                                              Douala, January 1st, 2014

Premium Member Hellllllppppppppp I'Ve Lost My Knickers

Last night our kitchen light stopped working
It was intermittent all flashing and jerking
A replacement one was quickly needed
There was one on the shelves – our prayers were heeded

We were both up the ladder – we were drilling and screwing
Oh I am thankful my hubby knows what he’s doing
When the light switch was switched on
Bright golden glowing light gently shone

Everywhere was covered with a fine layer of dust
So I got out the hoover -  I cursed and I cussed
I started cleaning the nooks and crannies
My hoover is quite new it’s not like my grannies

I hang lots of washing by the kitchen door
But something had dropped right onto the floor
The hoover sucked up my pink lacy knickers
The light on the hoover went red and flickers

I shouted my hubby please come here quick
The hoover has swallowed my frilly nicks
We started to laugh as we undid the cover
My pink dusty knickers we soon did discover

The moral of this story is hang on to your frillies
If not, your assets may get a dose of the chillies
I’m going to keep a tight grip of my panties
I wonder if my husband totally agrees


30th March 2014

This really happened yesterday!

God Hates Me

A day in my life
I thought to help the wife
I got the vacuum out
A little run about
I plugged it in the wall
Odd, no sound at all
It must have blown a fuse
So I undid all the screws
I changed the fuse with new
When they blow that's what you do
Then I plugged the thing back in
Odd, still nothing, no din

I made a cup of tea
The thought occurred to me
Was the fuse that I thought new
A useless dead fuse too
I scratched my head and thought
Has some fluff and stuff got caught
And blocked up all the tube
Which may have blown the fuse

I was in a flux
So I got my toolbox
First I undid this
Then I undid that
And by the time I undid more
I had a pile of scrap

Now I was in a flap
As I tried to build it back
But I knew I lost the plot
Cos the pile was such a lot
When I knew I could not win
I launched it in the bin

So I went round to the store
Cos my vacuum was no more
And invested in one new
Took it home just like you do
But by the time I did unpack
I had another heap of crap
Cardboard and all that
So I burned it round the back

I plugged my new vacuum in
Odd, still no distinctive din
I was most bemused
I thought a new one can't be fused
So I changed the fuse in new
Then thought I will vacuum , like you do

Odd, not a peep
From my new electric sweep
I thought there's something funny here
Something strange and *****
The room was not its norm
It had no bubbly warm
Then I looked at my aquarium
The fish they did not swim
No lights or bubbling glow
That keep them on the go

I switched the light shade on
No light there just was none
Then I tried the chandelier
No lights from that either

I sat down with a grin
It was hard to take it in
I reflected on the day
The one that cost me pay
I had dismantled something good
For no reason that I should
Then threw it in the bin
And then invested in another
When the first one had no bother

I felt so ashamed but I had myself to blame
I thought, Scott you are a nut
Scott you are a smut
Did you not realise
There has been a power cut
Outside
© John Scott  Create an image from this poem.

Cockoo

I started hooping like a bunny,
Carrying my big chocolate egg,
But thought it could be funny
To hop while using just one leg,
 
I saw thru the window’s frame
A cuckoo bird on the ground.
She and I were doing the same,
So I imitated the cuckoo’s sound.
 
She was curious and I was too:
Did the bird understand my coo?
 
Or she only wanted to protest:
“Put back this egg on the nest!”
 
So I undid the egg’s blue lace:
“Would you do too in my place?”
 
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo

A Hymn To Love

how come this fairness possesses such deeds
what a ruthless act thy heart did commit
for once I blundered and to thee I plead
bending words covering my shredded wit
appealing to the stubborn heart of thine
my unconscious mind hanging by a thread
that wrath from fairness will somehow decline
this age of prejudice thou will undid
for love condones faults to which hearts abide
and perceives lies from a different view
and love triumphs where all reason subside
making sense when our misfits are through
prey on the weak and the filthy sublime
but render lost hearts buried out of time

This Is a Funeral

This is a funeral
Why don't you accept
This is a funeral
And this is the death

The candles are burning
The red curtains drawn 
The oak casket glittering
Like a pistil of dawn 

Nobody knew you
So why's there a wake?
Your work-life undid you
All rigid and fake 

Here's how it pares down:
A brief eulogy
A shovel of gravel
And it's all done by three

Then your friends will forget you
By the light of a screen 
Full of afternoon football
And unkillable dreams

God's Scrapbook-Part1

I drew closer as the angel whispered,
'Come and you shall behold!'
I saw a book with an inlaid cover of precious stones,
And embossed in purest gold.

As he spoke, he turned around,
Placing a crystal key within my grasp,
And all drew silent as the lock sprang open,
And I undid the ivory clasp.

I reached inside and gently removed,
The book from its satin case,
I then let the angel be my guide,
As we left that Holy place.

He soon led me to a carpenter's bench,
And he bid that I sit down,
And pointing to objects on the top,
He said, 'All these in this book are found.'

I stared at and touched the simple things,
That lay across God's table,
But as my mind was only 'finite',
To discover their use, I was not able.

Chisels, paint brushes, dried flowers and twigs,
Many cut-out pics of the LORD,
There were broken shards of pottery, small piles of blackest coal,
A cup of water and a wineskin from which oil was poured.

I marveled as I touched His book,
But then thought there could be NO WAY,
For how could a work so beautiful,
Have inside it, blackened coal and lumps of clay?

Deeply perplexed, I mulled over the mystery,
And turned to the angel to speak,
For surely he knew the clues,
To the answers I did seek.

Then a presence entered silently,
And filled the room with light,
I knew at once that HE was there,
My spirit leaped and danced with delight.

My legs shook and on my knees I fell,
And bowing, I lowered my head in shame,
Then I felt His hand upon my head,
And I looked up when He called My name...

©Jane Richer
05/11/2002

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