Drop In The Bucket Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Water Source

There's a water shortage in countries,
especially where there's strife,
and air conditioning is needed,
to lead a pleasant life.
We also have bone-dry Bermuda
where, except for 5" monthly rainfall,
collected in cisterns or brought by tanker ship,
there's no water to be had at all.
Attempting to inform the people in power,
an endeavour which failed of course,
what every island AC emits,
and it's their free drinking source.
As AC units create water naturally,
on average 5 to 20 gallons
of condensate per day,
producing H2O from humidity,
it's a crime to let it waste away.
It may be but a drop in the bucket,
and yet, place a clean container,
when the unit is switched on,
to collect the drips
of distilled water, safe to imbibe,
below the condensation drain,
and you may have a million sips
again and again and again.

Criminals Drink Water

All criminals drink water
Therefore they are guilty
The proof is in the wetness
In the weather, in the pleasure 
In the drinking, in the thinking
Which way the wind blows 
As long as it is in a westerly direction 

People who drink water are bad
Criminals drink water down 
To the last drop in the bucket
Let he or she without sin cast
The first glass at the victim

Let the guillotine begin again
As in the old days of pleasure
Let each head roll down the path
Less parched than thirsty for truth
More interested in blood than love

Let the party begin with water
To each his own when consumed 
Criminals drink without thinking
There are consequences for all actions
Reason not being among or one of them

Premium Member Its Name Is Far Out

a new dwarf planet...
announced only this past year...
"hello...distance here...

eleven...billion...
miles away...orbiting now...
just off to one side...

gravity well...yes...
twenty two billion miles wide...
a spin round the sun...

it is some wonder...
the gravity well does stretch...
half way...the next star...

eleven billion...
just a drop in the bucket...
thousand year orbits...

humans are dreamers...
lifetimes amounting to what...
'castles'...in the air...


stan sand


A Drop In the Bucket

I spoke to God the other day
Wanting to hear what he had to say

My ask 
What is my task

Why am I here at all 
Every winter, spring, summer and fall

The reply is always the same
Make a difference in a life regardless of their name

But how can I do this 
When my life has been far from bliss

Why me I express again
Erstwhile checking if I am sane

For I am but one from many a billion
Some who have many a million

What makes me different from the rest
Uniquely qualified for this quest

A drop in the bucket is how I feel
Far from someone who can make this real

The answer is always a surprise
One I forget and have oft to re-surmise

No deed no matter how small
Counts equal to them all 

It may make someone’s moment
Or cause them to lament

That they too have been heaven sent
To be the treasure they were meant

Each rain drop adds to the lake
This we should never forsake

Andreas Simic©

Tears To See Clear

I thank you, Lord, over and over again,
for the love within the story never comes to an end,
the now that shows light like never before,
the eyes contentment for what you now have in store,
the building trust fund you allowed me to see,
saved up for years within the heart of me,
I cannot believe my own eyes,
none of it, father, was any of mine,
but yet..a drop in the bucket of many tears,
until a puddle formed in order to see clear,
looking down at a reflection as the sun dried it away,
i can trust i won't be stepping into any puddles today,

Psychobabble

Pattern creator weaving through semantic gridlock. Synaptic blockage has me dining on feedback. Consuming concepts of Id's bleeding out a dissociative psychocollage. 
No Map No-Thing.
Images overlapping gaps of referential perspective all lapping up my awareness [{that is overclocked  thinking thoughts at lightning speed}]
I have Become. 
The Lone Madman stripping down the day and rearranging pieces my own way
DreamingDriftingDrowning in a sea of suspended belief.  Jumping Juxtaposition! How to navigate such a clash of colloidal moment places?
Negation of orientation is a hidden freedom. In the Disconnect expect a mighty Vertigo; it briefly will swallow YOU leaving only the leafy sensation that is the essence of hollow. Immersion is complete. no more Self memory. No-Thing is concrete. Just a simple drop in the Bucket. This is We. This is dissolution. Attaching Desire and Control on Potentialities is disillusion.


Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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