Best Vacancy Poems
I don't have filled spaces.
Nonexisting time lies to me,
making me feel as if I were not empty.
Space remains painfully unoccupied in me.
There is no prince
no poetry or sigh
that a sigh without cause is consequence of passion.
There is no romance or excitement.
Word or song.
Meaning or ignorance.
I don't have time, it's true,
for I am filled with the strange intensity of freedom and youth.
However, all the space of my soul I keep
like a ballroom with no ball.
. . . If someone shouted in me . . .
it would echo.
Patricia Evans
Categories:
vacancy, introspection, life, love, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
In the avalanche, I lost track of my guiding light.
I fled my fireside. I had to evacuate my homestead.
Driven far astray by frenetic frozen fright,
I was just a cowardly racing rescuing airhead.
The wounded wooden face of my brother
lugged away by paramedics in a wheelchair.
My tomb of sleep was my 3 am druthers.
But I called 911, puzzling at my sibling’s stare.
Living and dying from underworld to mountaintop,
the EMTs raised him off the floor like a bag of potatoes.
Everything was breathing pollen and allergen nonstop.
All my raw instincts lacked right or wrong thought flows.
It’s true; I lost poetry. I abandoned my paintings, my pottery,
as though the subverting season of AI sophistry reigned supreme,
as though all creativity was randomized in a human lottery,
as though all consciousness is reduced to a particle beam.
Vacant, these weary eyes roll up in my head.
Vacant, how much long-term despondency to endure?
My brother lives and dies each day in his bed,
defenseless, like a never healing wound with no cure.
My days are distractions, a mad confusing deflection.
I vacated my poetic home, my fireside muse.
I raft the unfamiliar caregiver currents without reflection.
I can’t live forever homeless, maintaining the caregiver ruse.
Sleep now, my brother, knowing life offers you another aim.
Tap resilience from your broken body. This will clear your mind.
My pallet for tending, nourishing, and wiping deserves no acclaim.
Nobody asks for these duties. No one can ever put them behind.
Categories:
vacancy, brother, care, family, health,
Form:
Rhyme
Red, Black, Yellow - Brown or White
During the day or - late at night
- When Life is lost
- It’s too great a cost
No justification can make it right.
Categories:
vacancy, abuse, culture, emotions, introspection,
Form:
Limerick
My Ex Husband:-
Lied to me
Was often drunk and violent
Belittled me
Spent all my money
Ran off with my best friend ...
HE’S FIRED!
Position is now vacant
the new applicant needs to be:-
Honest
Teetotal and gentle as a lamb
Stand by me through thick and thin and not put me down
Solvent enough to buy me the odd bunch of flowers or an orchid
Loyal – (the only real friends I have left are male!)
If you think you can fill this position ...
YOU’RE HIRED!
Contest: The Interview – Judy Konos
7th June 2015
Jan Allison
Categories:
vacancy, break up, future, hope,
Form:
Light Verse
Lying in my bed, it was only after
Every sound had finished
That I realized the woman was pregnant.
These are hard times for everyone.
What am I suppose to do?
Kick my own mother-in-law out?
It was dark, her breathing was labored, yes.
I figured from travel.
They seem fine now, though.
I can see them in Elijah's
Manger a hundred yards out.
That dirty little hay hole.
I pray they make it through the night.
Categories:
vacancy, christmas,
Form:
Free verse
Inspiration is stymied by these walls
Deeper into a depression she falls
All she needs to do is go outside
And on a unicorn she will glide
The splendor below is God’s great gift
And it feels so free to be adrift
Meadow flowers shine in rainbow hues
A lazy dog is taking a snooze
Emerald forests make her smile
Something she hasn’t done for a while
Puffy clouds above release her muse
Imagination does transfuse
The “no vacancy” sign is gone
God’s gifts give impetus to write on
*For Diane Christian’s “Inspiration” contest
Categories:
vacancy, nature, on writing and
Form:
Rhyme
The solidarity of a dark sky
Absence of the torrid light
Coldness into the eyes
Russell Sivey
Categories:
vacancy, life, nature,
Form:
Kimo
TATEIAN WHEELS OF LIFE
Twenty Dora-band aids barely cover one of my scars across my chest. It's my stomach this time. But one hour of reading James Tate makes my mouth curled upward, with an outward breath and smile. Though as morning ended, I thought, "My mood today is nowhere, I haven't been able to find it yet."
Today, the corridor is filled with little children and blond mothers, plump nurses. I fixate on the water dripping down the side of an empty shampoo bottle resting on the shower chair, enough shampoo to last a lifetime vacation here at Malady Motel. Toddler screams echo down the hallway from another ward where I pretend they are impervious to anxiety, and merely screaming because they know the mind plays tricks on us from time to time; they are screaming to warn me of the warden approaching for early lock down.
One morning of no medication, to follow the tinkle of the lead llama's bell: Can you cope, can you breathe? Tell me how you are, can you cope with the job, can you cope with seeing me while you work? Can you cope, can you breathe? That's all they ask, god bless these doctors with nothing else to talk about. Heaven forbid they read the news, at least the headlines, the front page, something for small talk.
My fingers flash lightning, ice forms in my palms. I need to breathe; I need to. Breathe waves to wash over me. My mouth speaks thunder, and if I could stand, I would spin the wheel, see where it lands again. If they were to leave my legs, I promise I'd return the blood I borrowed, leave it for another. I rock and hum in hopes of a calm hush wash over me, white noise, to cover my ears like the sound of a fetus sleeping through a stethoscope, breathe through a straw, wheeze a song for tomorrow.
***
Februari 19, 2017
Categories:
vacancy, health, imagery, mental illness,
Form:
Narrative
Slowly my world shatters
Unravelling all around me
Inside my heart is
Cold, empty, broken
I have fallen apart completely
Drowning in the waves of sorrow
Everything I once was is swept away
By Morgan Mise
Written November 13, 2012
Categories:
vacancy, depression, suicide,
Form:
Acrostic
~ within the dwellings of the night
through darkness lies a dim light~
lost souls wander earth and space in between us
searching eternity for a reminance of a shattered past
not forgotten nor seen ~
something lost
longing for a second chance
Categories:
vacancy, absence,
Form:
Free verse
Now is the boredom of winter.
Each day is a lost city;
The lost city of wood is still.
The cold is a chisel,
Cutting deep in the wood;
There is a message in the long grain,
A message for saints.
Tomorrow may be a long day,
A day of plenty
A day of smiles.
Yet winter rides on--
It goes in a white envelope.
The rain has become ice.
The wind is keen--
It keeps time with the boughs.
The trees have tongues--
Even now.
But no sound comes out.
Only silence,
A silence walking on padded feet.
There is no white ghost there,
Only an apparition,
An impostor.
Where have all the birds gone?
The trees are empty.
The limbs are vacant.
Categories:
vacancy, winter,
Form:
Free verse
Scattered shelters
Sometimes shine
Into the sadness
Of what is mine,
That gentle touch
Gives some relief,
Just swept along
A phantom beach,
As waves roll in
I feel the breeze
Replace my thoughts
With swaying ease.
At last returned
Into my vacancy.
Categories:
vacancy, ocean,
Form:
Sonnet
VACANCY
My life is like a puzzle,
Riddling my thoughts perpetually,
Overdosing my mind with conundrums,
No solution for this enigma!
Is there someone to...
Reveal my compassion,
To dedicate love to with obsession,
Commitment genuinely in passion,
Jury of executive love in commission.
Seized and confiscated hearts in my possession,
Quilt of soul espionage is my confession.
This, potential lovers out there is an appeal…
My kraal is fully cowed,
But no piece of meat on my table… Who will join and fill my heart with happiness?
Cause this, be a table for two!
By Willem Pietersen
Categories:
vacancy, love, love,
Form:
Light Verse
I came in yesterday, and
Unpacked my things in the room.
But, I couldn't shake the feeling:
This place will be my tomb.
It's rundown, tattered,
But maybe sort of cozy.
Mind if I look around?
(I'm feeling kind of nosy)
Come to think of it,
I'll probably stay a while.
I'm shocked at how
Quickly it makes me smile
To be with you, here,
In your torn, broken heart.
At this point I
Couldn't bear to be apart.
So let me rent the room
That's vacant in your soul.
I'll pay you in my love.
I'll never be late, because I'll pay you in my love.
Categories:
vacancy, love,
Form:
Rhyme
In the pitch of midnight black a shining
The stitch of an illusory lining
Weary traveler opines, where is my place?
The eyes go towards well-lit grace
Sheer magnitude of emptiness and yet
Rooms-a-plenty past midnight's rest
Lost, the traveler mused, where is my place?
The eyes go towards well-lit grace
But shines a little longer this shining
Ever so present in the illusory lining
Robust a light for all to see this
Shining bright, refulgent bliss
In that dark of midnight black scarred lie
A star, like a pearl in the sky
The traveler sings, there, that is my place
Found vacancy in well-lit grace
_______________________________
By: Tim B on 04/18/2012
Written for: Russell Sivey's contest "Midnight Pearl"
Categories:
vacancy, death, faith, travel,
Form:
Rhyme