Best Weekend Poems


Premium Member Heading Into Mothers Day Weekend

Dark hour of morning green and jealous sun.
Flag’s red, white, and blue leans over the porch.

Oak branches, bored, and skeleton but wood.
The leaves too still, no breath of life, no sigh.

M a h o g a n y - s a t u r a t e d   f l o w e r s
in frame with inky stems, ebonic blend.

The missing link between Winter and Spring
does spread its wings, still life below the clouds.

Oh!   I hear it!   Oh!   I knew it!   The rain
o b s i d i a n  does wake - the  s h a t t e r i n g,
a  m e l a n c h o l y  roar,  a  s i l e n t  pour.

There is hope fulness, hope lessness in it.
A tediousness-grace, beside next day.
A full out vortex burst of rosy cheeks,
this day tempers. The birds concur with me.

5/12/2023

Premium Member Hypocrisy Democracy and the Seven Day Weekend

We have fences around homes...
locks on doors
bars across windows
video cameras-
motion detectors
and panic rooms.
To protect the only sanctuary that we have.
Even heaven has a vetting gate to keep evil at bay.
but they call trump a heartless, racist...
for protecting the only sanctuary that we have...

We kill a half a million babies a year.
Then riot over the inhuman treatment of a chicken
that we are about to devour.

Tens of thousands of homeless, hungry Americans w/o healthcare.
My illegal alien neighbor gets everything for free.
Sports around in a Cadillac escalade (though used) 
and has a seven-day weekend.

Premium Member Weekend Enticements

You try to entice me

With the smell of coffee and pancakes.

I bury my head deeper under the covers

And ignore your ploy.


Naked, I walk into the kitchen,

My turn to entice.

I run back to the bed and dive beneath the covers,

Giggling.


The pancakes are cold,

I win.


Grilling Days

My driveway is packed with the cars
of friends and family,
chips put out, and the little ones
are running joyously.

A cooler filled up with bag ice
keeps cold soda and beer,
I think half the folks I know
were able to get here.

I stand over a charcoal grill,
today it is my thing,
propane may work in a pinch,
but briquettes remain king

Coals seer some discount longhorn steaks,
bought from a friend of mine,
will turn the meat ninety degrees,
get perfect grill-mark lines.

My vegan niece sits not far off,
always looks thin and ill,
ready to tell everybody:
“It’s not okay to kill!”

As if the plants she likes to eat
didn’t go to their death,
some day she might see how it is,
but she ain’t got there yet.

The youngsters go high on the swings,
I hear metal chains squeak,
one even gets up far enough
to brush against some leaves.

Every few moments one flies off,
and lands half-stumbling,
turns back to his cousins and cries:
“That jump was amazing!”

The older kids are further back,
shagging some fly-balls down,
they mix it up with fast bouncers,
racing across the ground.

Inside men sit and watch the game,
share opinions on sports,
each convinced they know the deal,
which players to exhort.

Not a word of work goes around,
and to me that’s just fine,
Boss-man gets five days of the week,
but these two? They are mine.

Wives and sisters sit on the deck,
indulging in girl-talk,
it may be a stereotype,
but lordy, how they squawk.

Then again, maybe it’s just me,
the introverted type,
gossiping in a big circle,
not something I would like…

Take off the ones medium rare,
three more minutes—well done,
plate them up, then give a shout:
“The steak’s on, everyone!”
Form: Rhyme

Weekend Father

Unfortunate circumstances made me a weekend father
Two parents separated by a marred history,
now had to care for a child ...
an innocent victim who received emotional shrapnel
as collateral damage from our argumentative battles
Our destructive habits fell onto her,
but children are very resilient, thank God
I loved being a weekend father
There was no bitterness about allotted time of custody,
none of that foolishness
My wife and I settled our divorce amicably ... no courts involved,
except for the legal formality of having a divorce decree issued
by the state
We worked things out between us much better being apart than when we
were married
It's funny how that works
So I got my daughter on the weekends, but over time I had her
more than the weekends
We bonded pretty good
And anyone with kids will tell you, that four-year-olds are a quirky bunch
They're old enough to do enough things for themselves,
but they still want you to do a lot of things for them ...
y'know, they still want the baby treatment
My daughter, she really only demanded two things of me when I first
started having her every weekend:
she wanted us to watch movies together, movies like "Lion King,"
or play video games together, video games like "Lion King"
And she didn't like the part of the movie where Simba's dad, Mustafa died
She always cried, and told me to skip that part ...
that always touched my heart
Because it told me, in unspoken words, that she loved me and didn't
want anything bad to happen to me
When she turned five, I enrolled her at my alma mater college,
in an art program for kids
My sister and father told me that my daughter had artistic ability
So every Saturday, we spent half the day at the college, 
because after she got out of class, we would get something to eat,
then go to the main library on campus and get on the computers
To make a long story shorter ... she received an art degree 
when she became grown
Becoming an illustrator and computer graphic artist
That's what being a weekend father means to me
Form: Verse

I Lost a Whole Weekend (Please Pardon My Rant)

I am your champion, I fight for your cause,
my love and devotion give some people pause.

When I saw you I knew you, just like with your dad.
I guess our deep happiness makes some people mad.

I work hard at my job, so that we can live,
and hear me now, son, when it's time to give,
I am the one who ups the amount,
I've done this more often than I can recount.

I also work so your dad will be covered,
for doctors and dentists and allergists and others,
and who do you think pushed him to go
to the skin doctor some two years ago?

From the moment I met you, you felt like my son,
but this is a battle that cannot be won.
When your dad and I married, I didn't steal him away,
he's just as devoted to you to this day.

I heard someone had told you that I was "controlling,"
(I can't even write this without my eyes rolling).
Who insisted your dad fly to LA to see you?
Who worked overtime to pay for this venue?

I encourage his freedom, I've not clipped his wings,
his happiness, above all, is the important-est thing.

I will not be silenced, nor be vilified,
and it just breaks my heart when you take HER side.

I am LOVING and GIVING and ALL THAT IS GOOD,
and I'm tired of being so misunderstood.

So, pardon my migraine, it wasn't intended,
my strength just gave out as your judgement descended.

I lost a whole weekend, I slept like the dead,
I was just too defeated to face down my dread.
I kinda' felt reality shatter, unsure what was real,
like in "Jacob's Ladder."

We're getting no younger, your father and I,
the older we get, the faster time flies.
I love you as if you were my own child,
I'll not carry this burden unreconciled.


©Danielle White
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Friday ::new audio::

For some the beginning.
For some it's the end.
For many; days just merging
Into the blend. 

But the concept of Friday
Is simply this;
It's the end of the work-week
Sealed with a kiss.

It's assurance of respite.
It's that glorious space
Loaded with promise.
It's the end of the race. 

That comfiest armchair
Those slippers so snug.
It's like greeting a friend
With a lingering hug.

Is it really enough
If it's one out of seven?
Or should we be seeking
A little more heaven? 

I think as I drive
Through the Autumnal streets
That all days are precious
And while life repeats.. 

Relax and enjoy them
Wherever you are..
For loving the journey
Will help take you far. 

So Fridays, we love you,
To the end and the start.
And thank you for helping me
Reset my heart.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Fireworks On Victoria Weekend

When  it is the long weekend for the fireworks 
The fireworks begins when the sky is darken
Some people gather in parks to watch fireworks 
 Others just watch fireworks from their homes
It last till the early morn
When people try to sleep
Noise on pets
They are scared
Whining 
Scared
Form: Tetractys

Premium Member A Bit of Humour For the Weekend

STACE

A  girl runner by the name of Stace
Ran the annual marathon race
near the end of the run
Both laces come undone
She stumbled and fell flat on her face.

OLD SAILOR

An old sailor was out on the ocean
It was choppy and he felt a motion
Had some curry last night
But the taste wasn't right
Down below felt a muffled explosion.

SUE   ROSE                  

A young lady by the name of Sue Rose 
Hoped that a man to her would propose 
Couldn't understand why
All the men were so shy
Then in the mirror saw hairs in her nose.

ABDUL

Bush safari went Abdul with eight wives 
Parked on a hillside for lunch to eat chives
Then to their dismay
Their jeep rolled away
Heard lions roaring and ran for their lives.

BLACK  BILL

An undertaker in Dodge called Black Bill
To boost his business people he would kill
But one man wasn't dead 
Shot Black Bill in the head
Now in a grave he lies up at Boot Hill.

FREDERICK STARK

A skinny dipper called Frederick Stark
Went for a swim in the sea, it was dark
Da Dum he could hear
It filled him with fear
Then in moonlight saw the fin of a shark.

JOCK

A Scotchman who was known as Big Jock
Went out walking one day by the Loch
A gust of wind blew
And up his kilt flew 
Some passing girls were left in deep shock.


Written 2nd August 2019.
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Deep in the Heart of a Weekend

     Deep in the heart of a weekend
        No plans, no promise, no pizazz

     A feeling as if I were robbed of something
        My youth, to be precise

     When Saturday night and Sunday found me out and about

     Ah, but what’s the point of comparing fragrance and fragility
        I’m happy with my life of sitting and writing and waiting

     Waiting for my disabilities to return to abilities
        recover assets, ditch liabilities

Premium Member Weekend Acrostic Poem

Whoop with delight as all the time is yours
Enjoy life to the full
Eat out -  you don’t have to cook
Keep up with friends and have a natter
Explore new places
Need time to totally chill
Dread the alarm clock going and the working week is back
Form: Acrostic

Weekend

Today is Friday
Tomorrow is Saturday
Next it is Sunday
Form: Haiku

Premium Member I Envy the Weekend

Friday night the weekend begins for most
Mothers, Fathers, with family members host
To be together with those they LOVE most
While a lonely man speaks with his Wife's ghost

On my computer the POETRY site
Saturday mornings some comments I write
My former students all work through the night
An old man see's his Wife's Heavenly Light

After Church, there is my A A meeting
Forlorn lonesomeness,now takes a beating
I get home; Featured POETS; I'm greeting
Images of my lovely Wife : Fleeting

Monday, a new week, new POEMS I shall start
I pick up my quill and write from my Heart

Author's note: Dear Andrea, all lines have 10 syllables(Thanks for the Spelling)
I still have to work on the format - aabb- This looks like aaaa but it's not ; a -  just happens to rhyme with - b -
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Weekend

Love is a like a long weekend

Sleeps in and phone  muted

No one else is important but themselves

Window shopping on a Saturday

Drinking wine during an evening meal

Her eyes

And those eyes dark as a piece of coal

And as I work and Bees come

Sunlight turns them into honey

Eyes that see my different point of view

And they look at me with undeserved love

Those lips

And those lips that words of love come

Lips that desire to be kissed and sweetly

And love to be dressed in colors

That wait for me with kindness

Patiently smiling at my uncomfortableness

But Life Weakend

And so the pressure mounts as does Himself

Weakend by gravity the sags come

Their bodies get weak but their love survives

But not a day,week or moment goes by that isn't filled with love

But the weak inherit the world in the end
Form: Narrative

Wacky Weekend Challenge

DIRE STRAITS was playing on the KITCHEN radio while ROSIE tried in vain to play along 
with “Money for Nothing” on her HAMMOND organ. Her house always looked like a NUCLEAR 
WASTE(land) with huge TID-BITS of food all over the counters and floor. Her husband 
Roscoe was an inept VACUUM SALESMAN who went door to door wearing blue SPANDEX 
BOXER SHORTS. His face was full of zits that looked like LUNAR CRATERS. Roscoe constantly 
dabbed the zits with LISTERINE SOAKED TISSUE(s) as his MEDICINE of choice. It wasn’t 
CONVENTION(al) but it lessened the PAIN somewhat.
 
FRIENDS and neighbors never invited the pair to any of their GIG(s) because they ate 
like “cone heads” when they were in the WINE AND DINE mode. On rare occasions when 
they did partake of a repast at someone’s house they left WORMHOLES in all the sandwiches. 
They would just take a sample bite and put it back on the tray which always reviled the next 
one in line.
 
The two of them are so socially ignorant that when it came time to thank the host for the 
invitation, they felt it was a UFO situation. To them, this meant in their DRIFTING minds they 
were Un F...ing Obligated to say thanks. I say all of this because knowing my brother and 
sister-in-law as I do, I guarantee they will never experience any INSOMNIA or remorse over 
their outrageous public behaviors.

* For entry in the Wacky Weekend Challenge
Form: Narrative

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