Cabinets Poems | Examples

empty spaces

Ghosts that haunt empty spaces
Like objects in cabinets 
that drift on window pains 
As light out places the things 
left in the corners of 
attics and In-between 
the walls and hidden faces, 
memories like objects 
that linger as bookmarks 
to someone's history, 
yellowing pages, 
trinkets and toys, 
old books and broken vases 
sit like old photos faded, 
memories of something 
best left untouched or forgotten,
never stated, between the moments of memory 
Like things left in shadows last and fated, 
ghosts linger here and there, 
pale movements in the Either, 
objects of history, 
a fall of light, a twist of shadow, 
objects that haunt 
like old souls in empty spaces…

Writers Block

Writer’s block is a horrible thing. 
Like cabinets slamming shut. 
So the writer’s block begins. 

Day one of writer’s block. 
Nothing except single words. 
And then single letters scattered.
Sitting on the couch. 
Sighing slightly. 
Nothing is fun anymore. 

I could cook a slice of toast. 
Or simply order pizza. 
Nothing comes to mind. 
Except the hunger. 
Under the sink, it is leaking slowly.

Scratching my back.
Trying to grasp the bugs. 
I have writer’s block. 
And it will never go away. 

I got in my car to head to the store. 
I bought things I didn’t need. 
Coupons expire. 
Grocery carts squeal.

Go home to the writer’s block.
Go to bed and have a dream of words and phrases. 
Draining slowly. 

They say writer’s block is a horrible thing. 
And that’s all I can say.

Love scars rima

These memories will never go away,
That girl has my soul and my heart she stole.
Burdens i carry, haunt me to this day,
It seems that even love, will take its toll. 
I tried and tried to make her stay
But now my heart has this whole
I fall apart at night, lost in moonlight,
waiting for the sun to come reignite

Il put my pain in these words and hope it never returns
I'm disgusted at myself and all of my habits
I'm still trying to heal from all of lifes burns
But im stuck here with my empty medicine cabinets
I feel the earth in rotation , as it slowly turns
My heart races looking at you, we are like rabbits
I learned over time that nothing lasts forever
Like a moment lost in time that youl always treasure

Belongings

If I were a Victorian naturalist
I would have pinned bugs
in their boxed cabinets
and tabulated them all,

because where I place favored items
they must belong there in perpetuity.

I once dreamt that The Goddess of Mercy
had found a place for me
in the temple of Her glowing heart.

However, I fidgeted much,
shuffling from the right side to the left
trying out the snug-ability
of this place and that.

Compassionately,
Guanyin pinned me down at last
among all those that belonged to Her
in perpetuity.

Pet Peeve

Last night, I dreamt I was a parrot.
I spent my days in a cage and my nights in a rage
And all I could ever say was what I’d been told.

Every few weeks, when there was company,
and the doors and windows were surely locked
The man would let me out

And I’d fly into the kitchen cabinets and those hard-to-reach places,
and sing the words he’d never been proud of

Until I was in his grasp
and in my cage again.

What a nightmare.

God's Cabinet

Keep God in mind when you look within
for answers to self
Everything you need to know is inside the
cabinets of your soul
The pantry is full of soul food waiting to be
taken from the shelf
Compartmentalized pieces of information 
ready to be consumed whole
It's hard to process everything contained 
in these rooms
You can't digest the contents if they haven't 
been chewed
School is in session and your appetite for
knowledge is understandable 
We feed on each other in this universal college 
of cannibals
Still starving for understanding while eating
the meat only to spit the bones
Trying to find our way home while still sleeping 
in our own beds
Lost in our own head in a glass house throwing 
stones

Wanting

Oh, oh! 	pity party
I want          my old house back
I want it summer
	windows open    curtains    fluttering
                   in the ocean breeze

I want my carpet		sofa	     chairs
		desk	    etagere	
	coffee table       piles of books
				and magazines
I want my little kitchen
      	chopping block island
		            glass-front cabinets
	with the Chilmark pottery

I want my garden         rhododendrons 
 Montauk daisies
             the curved path with 
         axioms carved into flat stones
           
I want my white-fenced yard
garden shed	 made by 
the Martha’s Vineyard High School
	         carpentry class 

I want my wide-railing porch
                settee swing and chair
           		blue and white striped cushions
flower baskets hanging all around

I want my friends, my neighborhood
          ocean         beach plums         wild grapes
		for the picking

I want my old home back

Amys Poltergeist

Vengeful spirits are the most powerful ghosts
the ghost story reader says to the slumber party girls.
Amy's poltergeist gets angry and pulls a curtain down
It lands on the dog’s head
The dog yelps.

Vengeful spirits' energy is fueled by intense emotions
such as anger, hatred, or a thirst for revenge
Poltergeist is infuriated now
She turns into a whirlwind
Cups and saucers fly out of the cabinets
winging themselves at the family and guest's heads.

There is shrieking and running
Poltergeist feels a bit satisfied.
Demons are the most dangerous of all, the reader says.
They are aggressive and attack humans more than other ghost.
Enraged, Poltergeist begins an all out war in the house.

I Call Them Spirits

I call them spirits
They contact me in a variety of ways
I can smell one of them; he smells like Old Spice
My father

I can see one of them
Also my father
I also glimpse a native American spirit guide named Little Wolf
I do not speak to them, but I am aware

My mother manipulates electricity and the phones.
She can call us from her landline number
Four years after it was disconnected

When I smell smoke I say “Okay, Dwight, I know you are here.”
The smoke smell instantly disappears.
He is my father-in-law

When all of the cabinets slam in the kitchen I know it is Helen.
She is my husband’s mother, showing him that she is displeased
At the tone of voice he has used with me.
I love it when this happens.

The Dare

Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Cabinets, tables and chairs were old crust.
No mercy was shown on this abandoned place 
No one dared to restore its bygone grace.
At least that's what I saw in the meagre light
Just a candle to explore through the night.
In parts, it was just a mere ugly wreck
To repair it, I needed a million cheques.
The war years seemed like only yesterday
Disgusted I felt like going away.
Who cared about this stupid worthless dare?
Oh Lord, was that a ghost that I saw there?
A model in old style on broken stairs,
In semi-darkness, I just stood scared there.
A light breeze spread quickly, light as a lark
The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark

The Signs That They All Ignored

Nobody cared.
You could tell from the cracked and broken windows.
You could tell from the maggots and moths in the kitchen cabinets.
You could tell from the nails scattered across the dirt-caked floor, waiting patiently to be stepped on. 
Nobody cared. 
You could tell from the way their way shattered brown and green glass bottles littered the floor and the way the doors creaked every time they were opened. 
You could tell from the way all the rooms smelled of rot and how poisonous ivy snaked its way up all the windows. 
You could tell from the sounds of yelling that echoed through the house day and night.
Nobody cared.
You could tell from the tear-stained pillows on the ripped and tattered, sheetless mattress in that pale yellow, tiny room.  
You could tell from the spider webs in every corner.
You could tell from the scent of alcohol on her breath and the slurred curses she yelled at the children sleeping in their beds.
Nobody cared!
You could tell because you were told. 
It was right in front of you the whole time.
You saw, you heard, you smelled, and you touched.
You knew, yet still, you did nothing. 
You cared just as much as they did; 
Not at all.

The Sun Is a Monster

The sun is a monster,
The stars are monsters,
Monsters that make us spin 
In the universe,
Our planet is so small,
The sun looks at her, like a cat a mouse,
Like a bug,
The sun is a monster,
That one cannot look into the eyes,
a monster who devours his own house, 
A bloodthirsty monster,
Heard millions of miles away,

If this monster wakes up,
It will destroy everything,
Our houses, our armies, our principles,
He will destroy our works of art,
Mozart and Rembrandt,
It will destroy all our ambitions,
To conquer the universe,
 To move our cabinets,
To cook again lobsters,

So let’s be wise,
The monster is watching us,
But he has great appetite,
Let’s not wake him up,
His light is our life,
Where does this monster come from?
No one knows, Perhaps you know?
He comes from far away, no doubt,
From another galaxy,
One thing is for sure,
This monster is more powerful than God,
Let us take advantage of his wickedness,
Let us become gods in our turn,
Are we not monsters?

By Just a Smidge

I may be 5 foot 9 but by the time
I have to reach over my middle tire
A skinny person of let’s say 5 feet
might reach things a couple inches higher

Those tricky top shelves are strictly for things
I know that I’m never going to need
Like huckleberry jam, rice vinegar,
brown paper lunch bags and caraway seed

When searching through the kitchen cabinets
I find that I’m too short by just a smidge
So I have no idea what’s hiding in
that little cabinet over the fridge

Marijuana Sommelier

Marijuana sommelier,
A marijuana or weed expert.
A Mary Jane professional.
Someone happy 
to let the grass grow.
Not a junkie or druggie, 
but a pro, a get high expert.
Weed connoisseur.
As a kid, If I had known 
about this profession, 
I would’ve been up there 
with the best of them, 
like Cheech and Chong.
But don’t get me wrong 
I’m here to confess
I used to smoke
some of the best. 
Sesa-million,
Acapulco gold
Hemp and haze.
As I give a dime bag praise,
those were the good old days.
I still miss having the munchies,
I would clean out the kitchen cabinets 
and the refrigerator.
Eating everything that didn’t move.
And some things that did…

The Truth

Honesty right!
You wanna know the truth?
Well, you've swindled my heart
Yet still invigorating through my chest
Anything beyond, I never thought of
When I first spoke to you thereof

it took a day suprisingly
Dots connected
Cabinets reshuffled, 
And everything was Rosey.
You've touched me, without laying a hand on me. 

you sure you aren't made of fire? 
Course you've let me catch the heat
The truth right!
Well, I am suffocated by the drug you've let me consume
I am addicted, and all I wanna do is presume
 And All the love buried from heart breaks, You've exumed

I wanna stop but the ecstasy is holding me by the neck
I can't stop thinking of the high if gets me. 
The joy it fills me, 
The empty spaces it closes in me, 
The home is has suddenly brought in me. 

Corners let me cut and the ice let me break. 
To the ground I hope an ear is kept. 
The truth right!
Well, the truth is I have fallen in love with you so deep
And wanna keep on falling

• Short Cabinets Poems
• Famous Cabinets Poems
• Best Cabinets Poems
• Read Cabinets Poems
• Long Cabinets Poems
• Cabinets Quotes