Cut In Poems | Examples

Itinerant

I’ve worked in oil fields,
facing danger for good money,
I’ve sailed on the crab boats
where the oceans churn and freeze.
I’ve drove the long-haul truck,
through the ice and much up to my knees,
I’ve dug that black gold coal
so the people have light and head.

I’ve worked the power lines
and been nearly fried, yes, it’s true,
I’m an itinerant,
cannot stop and I don’t want to.

I’ve dug a soldier’s grave,
so in peace they’ll lay restfully.
I’ve laid with lonely wives,
that’s why all your kids look like me.
I’ve been a handyman,
fixing your doorjamb and windows,
I’ve worked the carney scene,
on the rides helped all the kids go.

I’ve cut in the Maine woods,
as a logger should, what a view,
I’m an itinerant,
cannot stop and I don’t want to.

I’ve worked behind the bar,
slinging beers out to tired men,
even been a crossing guard,
so children go home safe again.
I’ve swept up city streets,
to see them filthy the next way,
I’ve worked the onion fields
in the hot sun outside L.A.

I’ve done so many things,
making my money someplace new,
I’m an itinerant,
couldn’t settle and don’t want to.

Cookiecutter Shark

Cookiecutter Shark

Deep in the ocean, where shadows reside,
A small, sleek hunter, with nowhere to hide.
The cookiecutter shark, a name so absurd,
For a creature whose bite is truly assured.
No great white's terror, no hammerhead's might,
But a circular cut, in the dark of the night. 
With a mouth like a scoop, and teeth sharp and keen,
It carves out its meals, a remarkable scene.
From whales to tuna, no creature is safe,
From the alien mark, a peculiar chafe.
A perfect round wound, left on muscle and skin,
A testament to where the small hunter has been.
It lurks in the deep, a cryptic design,
A parasite predator, truly divine.
So next time you swim in the ocean so wide,
Remember the cookiecutter, and where it might hide.

The Keys to the Future

The doors to yesterday are shut tight and locked.
     Only windows allow quick glimpses... you, face red and angry, eyes shut tight, refusing to accept reality away from your warm, slushy world of heart beats and distant voices. 

    Alas, we are all thrust out into bright lights, cold hands, and loud noises. Our lifeline cut in two, leaving us without a tether. 
    The air presses in all around, the first heavy burden we bear. Simply lifting our heads is too much to ask. How quickly we adapt. We learn to accept the indignities of a flesh body. 

     I watch you grow again and again. Each birthday is a celebration…and a time of mourning. Missing the child you were, whom I'll never see again, carry again, hold again. Each year you change into someone else and I come to love you everyday, with every smile, every word and moment. 

     I may miss the baby I see through that window to yesterday, but I also look forward to falling in love with who you are and will be each and every day. 

     The doors are locked to the past... but we have the keys to the future, in the eyes of our children.

Alive, But Gone

I love you both with all my heart,
But Mum, you tore that love apart.
You made me choose, you made me cry,
While Dad was left to wonder why.

You spoke of him with poisoned tongue,
Bad words for ears still far too young.
You painted him in shades of wrong,
And made me feel I don’t belong.

He wasn’t perfect, neither are you,
But love should never be cut in two.
You didn’t let me have my say,
You slowly pushed him far away.

I grieved a man who didn’t die,
He lived, he waited, I wondered why.
You shut him out without a trace,
And left a space I couldn’t replace.

I missed his voice, his laugh, his face,
I missed the way he held me safe.
And though he lived, it felt the same
As if he’d gone and I was to blame.

Let children love, don’t make them choose,
It’s not a game, it’s hearts you lose.

By David S Bailey
29th May 2025

Paper Cut

a paper cut,
inevitable no matter how hard you try to avoid them,
everyone knows the pain of it,
yet someone else gets one and you say its only a small cut only hurts a small bit.
when looking at someone you never would never know they have one unless they told you,
it is easy to hide the pain you feel, 
its what we all do.
soon enough that pain disappears,
you never even notice when its gone,
you never sit and think about what gave you that cut you just move on.
what if you cant,
what if its all you think about. 
what if you still have a scar from the paper cut not letting you live without.
when you wake up, when you sleep,
you think about what has cut you so deep.
yet again no one sees that paper cut in you,
nobody knows that pain it has put you through.
you know what I’m talking about,
that feeling when your heart drops into your gut.
have you ever had a paper cut ?

FUNNY THREATS FROM AN ARSON MURDERER OF 9 AND HIS JHORE

NO NO NO NO FEAR OF CIRO GARGANO HIS UNDESIRABLE BLACKS HE HIRES BLACKMAILS TO TORCH BUILDING FALSIFY HELL EARTH OR LIKE ME FORCED 
TO WEAR WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI TO PROTECT MY CHILDREN BECAUSE OF YOUR FIRES OF HELL MY WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS GETTING YOUR PRISON TIME CUT IN HALF I AM CERTAINLY NOT SURPRISED THIS UNDESIRABLE BLACK JHORE DOMESTIC TERRORISTS THREATS FALSIFYING HELL AGAIN TO COVER OF ARSON MURDER OF 8 RESUKTING IN 9 VICTIMS I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR MURDERS SO STOP BULLYING ME I'M SURE JHORE GOT A LIGHT STOP BULLYING ME .STOP INTIMIDATING ME BURN MORE ELDERLY PERSONS ALIVE WHY DO I NEED TO BE REMINDED OF SOOT ON SUITS FROM THE TAILOR SHOP

Love Is Something That Cannot Be Explained

What about love
Is dating for fun
Being attracted to each other
Is a very interesting thing
However, if the passion fades
And the love disappears it will be boring
Just like you and your ex, you have broken up
So there is no need to keep mentioning each other
Or thinking about each other
It is meaningless and meaningless encounter
When love comes, you are together
And when the feeling is gone, you separate
Everything goes according to your own feelings
And you don't care about the feelings of the other party
If one party doesn't feel anything
The love of the other party will also be cut in half
It is forced to end like this
And there is not even a chance to appeal
It is really selfish
Love is something that cannot be explained
Sometimes the more you understand, the more you love
Sometimes the more you understand, the less you love
So it is better to enjoy life.

Excavation

I press my hands into the ruins of you,
fingertips cut in the quiet rot of ancient wounds
that have never quite been touched.
Beneath splintered ribs, 
your earth is sulfurous in suffering—
your volcanic pulse muffled under sediment,
heart-rages arrested in amber.

I carve through your marrow-deep dusks,
knuckles bloodied on the bedrock of guilt,
digging past rusted veins and forgotten altars,
until my hands unearth something 
promethean and glinting—
not relic, not wreckage—
but soft golds of you, 
burning like a mantra
like a last prayer.


3.8.24

The Blender

The blender switches on,

The Clock starts ticking.

Stitching it's imprint,

Into Existence.

Each Instant,

Different.

Gears whirring,

Agitated, Stirring Emotions,

Splicing, Thoughts churning ,

Forcing Conforming,

To the vortex That's forming.

Conflicting Actions,

Unconscious Reactions,

Robbing Our Satisfaction.

We Keep on Running,

To the Next Attraction.

Unaware of the distraction,

Keeping us in Line.

Trapped in Times Design,

It Defines your day.

How Long you have to Stay,

Then Sends you on your way.

There's even Time to Pay.

Never Enough for Play,

So throw none of it away.

Attached to every move,

It fills all the Grooves.

Smooth and sly,

It slides on by.

Flying beside you,

Guiding, and Dividing,

Perfect timing.

The more fun we have,

Seems as it were cut in Half.

Yet an hour in sorrow,

Feels like no Tomorrow.

Your Faithful Companion,

A Wound mender.

Or your toughest Contender,

Keeping you in The Blender.

Circle of doom

My life is a circle,
Going round and round, 
No end in sight, 
And no answers found, 
I'm stuck in a loop,
Going over again, 
Each day should be different, 
But the pain is the same, 
I can't make a break, 
In the circle of doom,
I can't take much more, 
I haven't the room,
I call out for help,
I desperately need, 
To cut in this circle,
A normal life I could then lead.

The Beauty

You can think,
You have time to think,
But you wouldn’t blink
When there’s a beautiful thing

Because
Beauty will run
Back as soon as it comes,
For you to be safe, uncursed
It will fade in the darkest of gulfs

Because
Darkness shines
More than the bright skies,
It engulfs everything that tries
To outshines its seas of hidden lies

Just like
There shall be I 
Be everyone’s but no one’s mine,
So, I’d be cut in half and dispersed alive
In their hands but no one would dare, get me back to life

And
You can think,
You can help me rinse,
But you couldn’t help him
When you faded like a beautiful thing.

Dementia

A cold summer morning, the snow should melt in less then two days.
,,Hah! We're here on trucks people c'mon let's do another race"
We drove plenty of surroundings of trees, 
I felt the urge to sneeze.
Covering my mouth with my arm.
,,It's called respect", they all mentioned in the farm.
But it will later harm.
My hands slipped through the rinds of the tree, 
I helt it tight and felt a sense of degree.
I was only seeing pale hands, 
mine that expands.
Snow covered my eyelash, 
heavy felt the big slash.
---------------------------------------
These just on these stations
I see a girl with a heavy smile going to Vacation
I felt a tight swoosh 
But I don't see her I can't see them
My mind plays pam
 make it stop, or i don't really know if- hey does make it stop! She entered my mind a while
 Why make make it ah no make it stop,
Big was the connection on the file 
The record was cut in short of a while
 i ah i don't really know if these are getting all over these omg you are not getting make it stop outta this place if these really oh no these make make make it stop cause i ah i don't maybe it's juat make it stop. Hurt me
I am alone in the room

Merry Melodies Looney Tunes Tribute

With a quick competitive descent,
Darling Daffy and his feisty duels;
No sportsmanship? He turns violent;
He’s a stickler for all of the rules;

Makes no difference if it’s a giraffe 
or Bugs Bunny banging on that piano, 
play the game fair or get cut in half;
This the challengers  ALWAYS know;

‘A lower standard will always debase!’
screams a bar sign in ACME letters;
Looking for a fair fight? This is the place.
Who’s fire with melodic measures?

Sly cockatoo sashays in with a grin,
itching to throw in a song that’s fire;
He holds the decadence of a violin,
and claims to be an A list player;

Daffy smugly looks him up and down 
‘You win? With that? What fallacies!!’
‘I’m Fuego I play two. Give me my crown.
 Known as the best to play Merry Melodies.’

To be continued …

Indivisible

For years I’ve passed a sculpture
When I walk at break of day.
It’s very unobtrusive,
Likely meant to be that way.

It’s just one word carved out of wood
And tethered to a sign
Reminding people not to park
Or they’ll incur a fine.

The word is “indivisible”
And in the USA,
It’s front and center in the pledge
That schoolkids learn to say.

We’re meant to think our country
Is united and, with pride,
We pledge allegiance to the nation
Where we all reside.

But lately, we’re divided
Like an apple cut in two,
Each half belonging to a crowd
That’s cloaked in red or blue.

This week I found the sculpture gone
And I was not surprised;
Perhaps the artist figured out
His hope’s been compromised.

Prologue Chapter 1

      Gus shook his head and began pairing 
everyone up in teams...
Then, WailersWitch walked in.
Followed closely by EllenDegenerate 
who was sniffing behind WailersWitch 
and snaking the air with her forked tongue 
between her fingers.
Degenerate had a shirt on that suspiciously 
resembled buildings at Little St. James Island,
a resort for orphans that she contributed to.
Then, Michael Ofelellah walked in with RufePal, 
"we're here and we're ...
we choreographed the White Houses Nutcracker 
for the White Powder Holidays, now, it's time to get something black!
They opened a mini dome of the rock 
box and inside was a demon.
Yes, from inside, popped out 
WhoopieCushionPatsy, her dirty 
dreadlocks dangled in the air 
with filthy pride that reminded one 
of a dust storm swirling magically 
in a sewage treatment plant, swirling waste 
and racing them like Americas Cup. 
"Anybody getting a good view of my anti-white princessness, yes it is truly ME!"
Michael cut in, cut the crap Whoopie, 
we have a world to subdue before Hillary hogs it all...

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