When mailing a letter,
A card or a bill,
The upper left envelope
Corner I’ll fill
With a label containing
My name and address,
Which I’ve never purchased,
I have to confess.
They come in the mail
Sent by charities who
Want donations, so they
Send a present to you -
Address labels sent
In a decorative style,
With flowers or cats,
Which I’ll add to my pile.
If I live to 100,
I won’t make a dent
In the thousands of labels
That I have been sent.
there was a daring young rake named Kent
who spent much time with a married woman from Trent
till it was said
they were caught in her bed
and the husband in his head put a dent
a-merry-can news said...
biden is an old man while
trump is full of muster...
well the actual truth be...
trumps a rich kid corporate clown while
biden has the wisdom of an earned maturity
stan sand
A project that’s intimidating
Needs two things to work –
A nudge to get things started
(So much easier to shirk!)
And the time to keep it going,
For that luxury is rare.
Most working people simply don’t
Have that much time to spare.
To tackle such an enterprise
And even make a dent
Is to feel a sense of pride
For every minute that you spent.
When is it okay to swim out of here?
Solo fish laps in a loch
Wide eyes turn back in fear
My pool was safe, I knew each rock
Grab the edge, a wall once held
Tiny tank I kept so well
Tide does turn to lift me up
Dive into a deep vast sea,
Run a race of lung drum pump
Your glue gaze is a hook, with glee
Gate open lets life raft bob away
I’ve swum in your fast new sway
Out into salt and mess, wind howl
Sail taut to tilt us, roll wild rage
Yin Yang curl can’t part us now
Ship long hour, flip over next page
A song to sing with zany note
Zeal to feel wave beat on boat
Slow zone I made sure to keep
Sits in the past, eats acid
Jump for love, a huge bold leap
Care can wash a soul once arid
Take it to grow, aqua lush
Lone fins come to find twin rush
1st October 2023
Written for Contest:
Love Poem Four Letters
Sponsor: Darla Seely
Here is my latest Horn Haiku for you one of a few:
would be a big dent
we were mad and vehement
was caused by cement
all our money spent
down to the very last cent
which we should prevent
wherever we went
message from God had been sent
be sure to repent
when my poem will end
am sure did never offend
to you I shall send
what I will intend
poetry rules had to bend
started a new trend
hand to you extend
all broken fences did mend
then into crowd blend
James Horn
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Check out number of poem this is by using
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
I am, though I didn't ask to be,
A woman, a daughter, a sister, a mother.
Born into these roles, and know no other;
Even my name was given to me.
We are, though we didn't ask to be,
(We are born into these roles; we have no choice,
Decided before birth when we had no voice)
Members of a certain ethnicity.
Now others are being forced onto we,
Religious, which includes a certain militancy,
Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Issai, are these our main identity?
All entirely arb-it-rary.
And where in all this is our humanity?
This was not how it was meant to be.
She fights her way through hell
to free his unsaveable soul
Dainty haze
imp fern no
only 1 imp per tent
just me beeing(See my last poem)....
A dent in my heart I will never admit to
You can conk me over the head, knee cap me.
I am not admitting to loving you at all right now
I will never let you know that you sliced up my heart.
It is in teeny tiny parts scattered on the bedroom floor.
I kick some of them around sometimes, for fun.
It’s okay when I have on socks. When I do not, well.
Yuck!
Here I lie on the bed determined to think of not you.
But not you has a face that keeps popping up
And not you have hands that keep creeping over my eyes
Yelling stupid stuff like “peek a boo”
I am not a baby. Why I even thought this cute I do not know.
Not you has moved on
I am ever so glad
Not you
Not me
Not us
Not today anyway
Does it dent your pride
Just going along for a ride
And not making your mark
When the day turns to dark
For the ones who do nothing
Will end up with nothing.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Dented World With Sins
With our sins world had dented,
And so we finally had repented;
World she did storm,
With her new form;
Both Christ and God consented.
Now I wonder who this poem
was written about.
Jim Horn
will I be recalled to Detroit
by angry consumers
for defective steering
the headlights er highlights
of my performance to date
resemble nothing so much as a lapse
in the routine of tire chasing dogs
paused to scratch
my brain is dented
the wiring shorted
and caught fire
ear drums got a puncture
and went flat
endocrines are on empty
the lungs sputter
the hoses leak
one headlight hangs out
dangling and blinking
on & off
a beacon for victims of
lost bearings
and poor fog visibility
the leading cause
of that far away look
I exercise my automobile
heel the wheel into turns
like it was fun
and it got stronger healthier
more vibrant
90 mph on two wheels
doors open
skidding through the ruts
rain and shine and holidays
it used to be a wreck
you should see it now
I finally got all the sleep I needed
gonna last forever
I hope you got
the actual message
In Brain Made Big Dent
Defining moment;
Forgot what it meant;
In brain made big dent;
Became vehement;
From class am absent.
Jim Horn
B L O W
B A L L
S E E D
F A L L
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