I think that I have never seen
a thing as vexing as a computer screen
Page after page I type and type
then one wrong click, out they’re all wiped
System won’t let me upload and submit
I’m about to lose my wits
And when I download a doc, it’s impossible to save
Damned system will send me to an early grave
So, I’ve thrown the whole kit-and-kaboodle out the window*
Only now, where did my candles and matches go…
_______________________________________________
*replacing computer files with manual files, in a file cabinet.
Categories:
file cabinet, anger, technology,
Form: Couplet
We never know
All the memories we seem to keep
Come out at night as we sleep
Everyone seems so very near
Pictures that are crystal clear
Many we had hoped to forget
Yet in the file cabinet they still sit
Then the characters we've left behind
Sometimes there seemed to be 8 or 9
Now some seem to feel neglected
They come out when least expected
We try to keep this all under control
Doesn't always work we all know
We may seem weird or just way out there
Let's not judge but try to be fair
No idea what's on anyone's mind
Or what they have left behind
Instead of being the judge
Let's be the giver of the HUGs!!!
Categories:
file cabinet, appreciation, culture,
Form: Free verse
Jewelry box goodies
attic holds years of clothing
file cabinet nightmare
Categories:
file cabinet, life,
Form: Senryu
William, you may be too young to realize
that Audrey is a "Plane Jane", and certainly no prize.
Anyone saying she loves you would be feeding you lies.
There are many maidens more attractive to your eyes.
There is another admirer. You are not alone.
Audrey is already in love with the fool named Touchstone.
This guy may be comical, and act like a clown,
but he is strong enough to kick your butt out of town.
Being unsuccessful is considered by anyone a pity.
Just put her in the file cabinet marked "past history".
Based on the play "As You Like It" by William Shakespeare
Categories:
file cabinet, literature, love hurts,
Form: Rhyme
The Candlemaker’s Office
was sparsely filled.
The worn brass door knob —
a patina
countless hands
slipping over its surface,
polished and discolored
by each touch.
That oak door —
turning my wrist
lean into it
fighting the rub
door against frame
hearing single pane glass
rattle —
I’d pushed through.
His wall —
dirty darkened oak
framed a wall of glass
allowing The Candlemaker
to gaze
upon
people
machine
if he chose —
yet his view
on equal footing
not elevated
a humble oversight.
Flooring —
off-white asbestos
set in squares
dark from factory dirt
moved by the feet of workers.
A lone green metal desk —
flanked by a single gray file cabinet:
adding machine,
rotary phone,
worn desk blotter,
barometer,
a nameplate
should you not know who he was.
Similar version previously published by Ink, Sweat and Tears 2019
Categories:
file cabinet, boy, childhood, family, father,
Form: Free verse
(TO: One of my favorite appendages)
My shoulder bag is important to me
It bumps against the side of my knee
When I wear it there is no stopping
As I tote it while I am shopping
Wallet, makeup, notebooks too
And trusty cell phone (I love you!)
Breath mints and gum to chew
Just can't shop without them too
It's a mobile file cabinet of
Various assorted stuff
The weight sometimes
Makes shopping tough
Brandolini bag of leather
It has compartments galore
I love to haul it with me
All around the store
When we get to checkout
We are feeling fine
Both me and the treasured
Shoulder Bag of mine!
Categories:
file cabinet, appreciation, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
silence rules the night
shadows move about
rain falls like tears
weeping wind bows to
no one
yesterday has been packed away
tiny boxes and envelopes
stored in the unsuspecting minds
of the lost between you and i
finding it hard to find my way home
overtook the moving day
cluttered thoughts of you
is stored in this fog escaping the end
more shadows become new
separating the gifts of life
who's ?
in this darkness i can see
over come by the dense fog i can feel
the fact that nothing is said is my fear
i want to declare my innocence
silence is the night that hold the deafening
screams of death of yesterday
snugged away in there rightful places
counted and numbered perfectly composed
file cabinet, rolodex eyes finding it's part
who's part or what part is mine?
silence rules the night
Categories:
file cabinet, metaphor,
Form: Free verse
Scribbled words hastily written are hard to decipher
were found in a folder attached to an important document,
it wouldn't ever been brought to light and know flair...
hadn't I not searched for an old picture, reminiscing sentiment,
sadly locked for ages in that file cabinet drawer to hide a secret.
The scribbled words of an original manuscript is a priceless treasure,
their meaning is not obliterated from memory or time, if read aloud;
sometimes non-sense words make sense and don't seem obscure
when the code has been deciphered, they can be clearly understood...
and letting them out of the darkness, they flee right into the bright world!
Written by Andrew Crisci
for Joe Maverick's contest, " Occlusion "
Categories:
file cabinet, memory, words,
Form: Quintain (English)
Written by Paula Swanson
Here at my desk I sit,
with silence all around.
Just the hum of the frig,
a clock in the background.
An old brass lamp with green shade,
sits back, off to the right.
A paperweight of tranquil glass,
kept prominent in my sight.
Legal pads, muted yellow,
azure clay jar, full of pens.
Odds and ends, scattered 'bout,
my inspirational friends.
An old brass merchants bell,
next to a wooden what-not drawer.
a small metal file cabinet,
sits next to me on the floor.
A soggy chew toy waiting,
right where the pup left it.
She's always there on my lap,
the minute that I sit.
I close my eyes, stroke her head
and enter my own world.
Where anything is possible,
thoughts and imagery swirl.
True, ideas and lines come streaming in,
any place, time, day or night.
But it is at my old familiar desk,
where my writing breathes in life.
For the contest: Inspired
Sponsored by Miranda Lambert
Placement: 4th
Categories:
file cabinet, on writing and wordsinspirational,
Form: Lay
An eyesore in the community as progress takes its toll.
Windows broken, rust on the old metal frames
Vacant, dust filled, old broken file cabinet in the corner
Taking a walk through it, I could feel the past
Wondered how many lives this old building touched
A way of life for so many
Security in a weekly paycheck
A faded time card on the floor where the office was
Dust covered wooden desk
A monument to the industrial age
A table with the boards curved from age
Where people ate lunch, talked, laughed, cried
Discussions about the kids, sports, politics, shop talk
Feel the past? Yes, days gone by, good days
Boards rotted on the loading dock, a rusted hand truck
No ventilation, no complaints, an honest days work
Clipboard hanging on the wooden beam
Can’t you feel it?
Shuffling into the parking lot, lunch cans in hand
See you tomorrow
Kids waiting for Dad to come home, supper on.
Just another day.
Categories:
file cabinet, nostalgia, placesold, old,
Form: Narrative
I have been where you are now, I know how life gets
depressed by your situation empty pockets
and every thought you entertain contains illegal means to get green
for this American dream
I can relate to that stress I know that times get hard
I started out hustling and latter learned to rob
and my squad for the most part were misunderstood
young dudes confused looking for man hood
I found this in my old file cabinet I sure it has to be at least 10 years old
Categories:
file cabinet, black african american, life,
Form: Rhyme