Leave Out Poems | Examples

Entrails

Apple pie and fudge galore. 
On Halloween I opened the door. 
Just someone in a ghost costume. 
And a witch with a broom.

Cars outside are covered in rust. 
I always leave out the best pie crust. 
For him to eat. 
He needs a treat. 

He needs a treat better than sugar and flour. 
So I baked for an hour. 
Made some concoction. 
Which he takes with no reaction. 

No inflection. 
No reaction. 
Just fireflies flying around. 
As he cleans without a sound. 

Washing the blood away. 
As well as the baking tray. 
He trusts anyone who will give him food. 
He’s sometimes in a bad mood. 

Then he eats the flies, filled with old flesh. 
He knows that no one will confess. 
That they watched him. 
Transform from within. 

Apple pie and fudge galore. 
Cleaning up is quite a chore. 
Once you’ve baked the best pie around. 
There’s sure to be a mess on the ground. 

The organs and blood. 
Pretending it’s just mud. 
That’s how the cycle goes. 
When he smells it with his nose. 

When you use enough sugar and flour combined. 
You can cook the body up for no one to find. 
Then you just need a supernatural being. 
So no one will believe what they are seeing.

Reprehensible Sugar

Sweet tea and tongues spill the cream.
Loose lips chew ice cubes and a story,
twisting it slightly to fire up a regime. 

Unsettling words come out in a stream
becoming more and more accusatory.
Sweet tea and tongues spill the cream. 

Getting jollies while cooking a scheme
they sell something as simple as glory. 
Twisting it slightly to fire up a regime. 

Reprehensible behavior to redeem? 
Nope. It never fits into that category.
Sweet tea and tongues spill the cream.  

Add sugar leave out a clear cut theme,
providing clarity is never mandatory. 
Twisting it slightly to fire up a regime. 

Bored so they want to blow off steam.
All  of the dialog? I've taken inventory. 
Sweet tea and tongues spill the cream,
twisting it slightly to fire up a regime.

Stockholm Shame

Science
has brought
us closer 
to the edge of our oblivion
Nuclear fission
angel dust
processed foods
and smog
Two steps forward
ten steps back
ennobling every dirty fact
as children choke and cry
There’s one award
the Swede’s leave out
that’s missing
on their dais
The Nobel Prize
for mass destruction
as progress masquerades
— unchecked

(Sweden: May, 2008)

OF WE AND THEY: EVEN OF US AND THEM

OF WE AND THEY/EVEN US AND THEM!    *

In the beginning
We were the architects
Of God’s designed world;
Then came them—
The devastating forces
Of its Garden Of Eden 
Decline:- 

We were the flowers
And fruits of the Garden;
Then they became
The slithering and coiling
Slime of disobedience
And disrespect:-

We were chosen 
To teach cross bearing
With the Bearer thereof;
Then they—save Mark—
Tried to leave out 
Our Simon Of Cyrene hue:-

As you read, my children,
Listen to these 83+ years
Old screaming words:
We must know that ourstory here,
Did not begin with their slavery!
They’re just lyingly implicated this,
In their fecal canvassing 
Of their diuretic history:-

While we remain
The crucified oppressed,
And they, the crucifiers,
Realize our Ancestors
Ensured that we would be
Today’s resurrected ones;
Overcoming and ascending,
Memorial total liberation:-

Thus, it be between them 
And us, in waning oppression
And waxing liberation; 
We ascending the mountaintop,
Not as children of Sisyphus,
But, the ebony-hued of the Liberator:-

Good Night Sweet Kitty

Good night, sweet kitty.
It is time for us to sleep.
The moon is out, the day is done,
It's time for us to dream.
What is that crash, oh furry one?
You say you see a bug?
I've looked and looked, nothing is there,
Are you sure it wasn't a dream?
I'm startled awake by an apparition,
a screech, a snarl, a scream
A furry streak of puffed-up fur, 
a wailing and a keen.
It seems I forget to leave out treats,
Oh, how bad of me. 
As the moon watches the exchange,
the cat reprimands me.
Here's your treat, my goblin child,
Oh, please forgive your servant, me.

To the Cat Who Ran Away

To the Cat Who Ran Away

You left so quietly one day,
We didn’t hear your little feet.
You slipped away and gone ,
While we were all busy with work.

You were never meant to stay in,
You loved to chase and roam.
But now the house feels strange and sad,
Without you here at home.

We call your name, we check the yard,
We leave out food and wait.
We hope you're safe and warm somewhere,
And not too far or late.

If one day you come back to us,
No need to ask or cry—
Your bed is here, your bowl is full,
We’ll greet you with a sigh.

Intro

Hello
I guess you don’t know me
I’m just a mere human 
And here is my story

I was small 
And so was my family.
Our love was big,
But so was our tragedy

I craved an artistic sense of mind
And a love for learning
But it was freedom I was truly yearning

Freedom from sadness
Freedom from neglect
Freedom from tears
Freedom from memories I would never forget

You do not know everything
Someday you will
I will spare you some details
But will not leave out the thrill

This little story is sad but true
It is beautiful or terrible
However you may construe

There are a million words pacing through my head
But trust me okay,
It does not all need to be said

So listen closely to the words that I am saying
The ending is happy

Leaving my friend until last call

I think the bartender is a keeper, my odd friend Jan said.
Wanting to take a peek myself, I replied “move your head!”
He was as unusual as Jan, so I thought they might make a go.
Let’s move closer to the bar I said. Sloth-like Jan moved really slow.

The bartender was a chatterbox, he was full of banter with us.
Told us stories about his patrons, did not leave out a single cuss.
I could see Jan was smitten, so I told her to stay until last call.
But she never turned up again, so I was wrong after all.

People Beg Me to Not Cook

When I want to cook others beg me to stop.
I once baked a cake that when rolled could hop.
We made it into balls and watched it go down the walk.
Some of it was whisked away by a determined chicken hawk.

Hope that bird does not die, my sister said.
She loves to cook, can make pies, puddings and bread.
If I try to make a hamburger, it scorches black in the pan.
I am the worst cook in Kansas, you can ask my man.

Out of desperation he learned to cook.
He is a really great chef, can maneuver the nook.
Which is to say the kitchen which I begged the builder to leave out.
That put his knickers in a knot, the man swore and gave a shout.

She does not cook, she is really bad at it, my husband explained.
I was going to try cookies yesterday, but everyone complained.
They have cleaned up my messes, and none wanted to do it again.
Luckily I live close to my baking, cooking sister; she is my twin.

a little birdie told me

when canaries sing ~ leave out the washing you’re already in the shît


By
David Kavanagh

What They Don't Tell You

What they don’t tell You

What the recruiters tell you:
“Be all you can be.”
“An Army of one.”
“Fly high with the Air Force.”
“Join the Navy and see the world.”
“Be the best. Be a Marine.”
“Join the National Guard and get an education and keep your job.”

Things recruiters leave out:
Watching your friend(s) go home in body bag(s).
The dirt and sweat.
C rations, K rations, MRE’s.
PTSD, suicides, drug addiction.
Limbs lost. Traumatic brain injury.
Bloated, decomposing corpses.
Dead men, women and children.
Fear so intense you soil yourself.
Lice, sand, dust, cold, heat.
The stench of death.
Families torn apart.
Long road to rehab or death whichever comes first.

THERAPY'S THERAPEUTIC POETIC THERAPISTS

THERAPY’S THERAPEUTIC THERAPIST  
Our poetry writing,
Is very therapeutic—
Healing all shared souls:-


Yes, poetry is God’s self-healing therapy;
Penning away depression with inspiration,
Fueled by our poetic words shared daily:-
Glory to God for all the shared sessions;
We healing with what’s said and read:-


Write on we poets,
We are God’s sent therapist—
Healing with the Word:-


What prayers may leave out,
Poetry will surely add it all in;
Quietly screaming its loud shout,
Streaming from Love’s inking pin:-


Yes, we’re therapists;
Treating with God’s healing words—
Poured from His cistern:-

Desire

Desire balanced fulfilled 
climax flight tolerance you 
leave out on your Chinook 
my breath within the wings 
of the craft you are my mind 
my sight my mind focused 
hanger four we load the 
cargo saying goodbye why 
I cannot fathom I only whisper 
sit down buckle your belt 
and kiss me we shall meet 
on the other side of the world 
dance with me one more time 
sing to me let's live like we 
are dying cuddle me as 
we embrace Tim mcgraw 
lyrics I shall always remember 
you when this air craft falls
on the wings of love my dove

It’s Been A While

Welcome back,
It’s been a while
An invitation to Wine Pairing
I bet it brought a smile

Zevenvacht’s our wine
A farm from Stellenbosch
Meaning Seven Expectations
By golly, that sounds posh

I have some peeps
Tonight I must mention
Dom our good friend
Out spending his pension

Can’t leave out Auralia
She’s about to split
Rumour has it
She’s fallen in love with a Brit

On to my favourites
The gorgeous hot ducks
Looking radiant as ever
Wish I’d worn a Tux

Kerry’s back
For a brief interlude
With Catherine and friends
That table’s bound to get rude

Enough now, Barrie
It’s time to stop
The next course’ almost ready
And there’s wine to dop

French Leave

      French Leave

Party keeps raging on fire
I leave out the front door
like a ghost without desire
float into a bed of a whore
donate my seed to the choir
I hear the Symphony soar.

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