Cans Poems - Poems about Cans

Watering Cans

Watering Cans

The latest water restrictions will add an 
extra sadness to 
the before the 
present time sad watering cans here and
there.

Three hundred cans of soup

In three hundred, I pulled without fear,
From my dentition, a grin quite sincere
Clichés serve as my balm,
In the chaos, my psalms
Yet to some; I might seem quite unclear,

With words throbbing back in my head,
I ponder the things that I've said
Did commentation run dry,
As I reached for the sky?
Or am I just tangled in dread?

The gallery,

Mad Iventions You'd Never Dream Of Part 2

Somehow, I don't think they sold many.

I actually bought a tin
But didn't read the label
When I got home I put my glasses on
And threw it in the 
bin

What a S... Idea
Whatever were they thinking of?
I can just Imagine
Someone having a eureka moment!
I fear
Yes! We'll sell millions

Could you think of a worse name?
I wonder what other

Dented cans

How I see cans getting dented -angry customers over price increases

Where the Cans Are

Alone and hungry
left leg aches like a broken peg
in the mugginess of its left slipper.

Not a good day for fixing anything
but the sealed and over salted,
the quickly warmed and spooned
that can be mixed into a taste-less medley
with other sundry comestibles.

The pantry,
(a recessed place with shelf-space),
is a dimly lit store for long kept canned products,
a once

Dime a Dozen

(A guy told me today with total confidence that for women, men are a dime a dozen. That has never been my experience which inspired me to pen this piece.)

I could have collected empty soda cans 
from the side of the road and cashed them in
They were worth five cents apiece back then
I only needed

Candy 'Cans'

Halloween night, there are only candy 'cans' -- no can'ts 
       ~ Back at home, kids treat their parents to a 'Sugar Dance'

Sloganin Dell Whicha Way

They mixed black paint in the
Cobb and concrete mixture.
The other batch contained a 
mixture of white paint and
Shallac.
When the mixed the mixture
I wasn't thrilled, not knowing
this was done to make me
excited.
After the mix had cured, they
used handsaws to cut blocks
of stone to create the wall.
I marveled at the creation.
I gasped with amazment looking
At the beautiful

Painting the Trash Cans

Senior year, student government
I couldn’t do anything right
When told to paint the trash cans
Our class colors, blue and white

I added my own touch to the job
Always doing too much
Scrawled my name on all the bins
Hoping to gain more fame

Some thought I was uncool, to
Expose myself to the whole school
All I was supposed to do
Was to

Shopping Carts and Garbage Cans

May I tell you something interesting for a moment? My favorite hobby is knocking over garbage cans with a shopping cart. Don't think it's weird, people do it all the time, so it's natural. There are so many life lessons I learn when I use a shopping cart like keeping my anger under control, pigeons

Dented Cans

DENTED CANS

Took a bag of trash
To the curb inside the bag
Garbage, dented cans


1/11/18

Original contest  Dented Cans
For Contest:  'A STUNNER JANUARY 2018' Contest Info
Sponsored by: 	Line Gauthier

Dented Cans

DENTED CANS

At first pristine in form and colour bright
They glittered in the clear warm air of youth
With dreams and goals attainable in our sight
Then framed in words unstrained by filtered truth

To have, to do, to be, without a question
With faith that what’s imagined may gain life
Those holy grails of dreams beyond suggestion
Before opposing forces entered

Dented Cans

I remember those 
Dented tin cans
The string communication
Of my childhood.

We lived in first story houses,
Telling their fourth or fifth
As we stood on the other side
Of a world without the grey.
Eyes screwed shut,
We shouted excitement into
Our fathermade walkie talkies

Chicken noodle
Clam Chowder

We were always running wild
Chasing what we already had 
Our adventure and
That’s gone 
You said
Life ends

Ethical Dilemma of the Dented Cans

Walking, walking, walking, walking,
Slower and slower and slower,
And s-l-o-w-e-r, 
And s-s-l-l-o-o-w-e-r still.
Barely moving...
Eyes shut tight...
Footsteps weaving...
Intestines heaving...
Racked by Hunger and Thirst,
Thirst and Hunger, Hunger and Thirst:
Woe is He and He is Woe;
He'll die of Starvation,
Unless his throat cracks first...

...Lost in a desert of endless sand,
So many poets choose to end
Such a tale without taking a

Grandma's Tin Cans

As lamplight flicks  on the side table
Grandma tends a pan of lukewarm water,
And moves into the room toward the bed
Wishing my fever would cool down sooner .
Her hand clutches old tin cans, quite dented
And pours out ginger oil, raspberry in a bowl
With vaporous mix of weed as fire reddens...
The brew, the potion simmers on

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