The rule of the hoard
Is etched on our brow
Some live by the sword
Some die by the plow
We watch it unfold
Yet still we allow
With morals on hold
What won't we do now
A hoarder? Me? No way.
I have more than one path in almost every room.
The dogs can always find their way out.
Of course I keep my garbage. Spies would love to have that on the curb.
You never know when you are going to need that egg carton, right?
You do-gooders can get off my property!
It should not bother anyone else how I live my life.
Gladys, can I put some more barrels in your yard?
What about beside the shed?
Just good stuff I might need later.
I promise there are no rats in these.
A truckload or two. Just for a couple of years.
You are as bad as the do-gooders!
I hate you all!
accumulation
choking the room bitterly
an embarrassment
carefully tromping through it
side-stepping junk gingerly
My pack rack eye-tis
surrounds me untidily
disturbing eyesore
jumping over largest pile
not inviting company
I am in my beautifully decorated office where I have dragged overflow
A baby gift that should have been given over to the new mama long ago,
Reams of paper that are not going to walk themselves to the printer.
Notebooks and pencils that could be put on a shelf for the winter.
It is weird that my office was gorgeous for a month or so
Then I started dragging and dumping when I should have said whoa.
Sure in three weeks I discarded seven truckloads of junk
But to think I am a neatnick is a complete load of bunk.
The real problem is that I started five projects at the same time.
They overwhelmed me, shut me down, and gave me walls I wanted to climb.
I have not seen my relatives or my friends although three weeks I have been home.
I am sorting and throwing, every pencil box, toothbrush, and comb.
When I get finished, it will be such a welcome sigh of relief.
Packrat people should move every year or two is my honest belief.
Limerick : Once a Miser lost hoard of halfpence
Once a Miser lost hoard of halfpence
Looked high and low and over the fence
When at last he found it
It wasn’t worth his spit
Ha’penny tipper got his comeuppance
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
squirrels hoard nuts
placing them in nests –
wild fires rage
Ó November 17, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Hoard, if you have to for sake of lure
hoard love, friendship, compassion, patriotism, emotions true and pure
it may help your Soul to rise from grave and embrace HIM for sure
Stocking gold, silver, money, bonds - only bodily comforts, Soul's food nowhere
Materialism is life's gym cycle, moving but not taking anywhere
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Hitendra Mehta
July 2011
For Members Contest - A verse any Theme/Form by Brian Strand
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Secret Hoard
Carefully hidden at the back of the draw
Be careful, quiet, just the watch the door
I’m done if they catch me, but careful I’ll be
The zombies search well for something to see
Caught no mercy judged jailed I’ll go
A fool, evil man condemned I know
No razor sharp blade left there to cut
Or blue black dark pistol seven rounds in butt
No Street drugs guiding a willing mind astray
Or ghastly child pictures images secreted away
No, not all their running dogs running with all best scents
Will discover my treasured old light bulbs with old filaments!
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