Blue’s Clues Cue for the Kidding Kids
Wonder about the kids we raise,
Too many screwy videos in a haze,
Take your bids, it’s a twisted game,
I smoked a lid just to feel the same.
Skid row’s tale that is far from fantastic,
Put it on plastic, the world can be drastic.
[Chorus]
We might NOT be heaven bound,
Yet we wear the crown, cannot keep us down,
Sipping the blues, got the rhythm of the town,
In a world of chaos, we stand our ground.
[Verse 2]
Been with another fiend, it isn’t just a dream,
Not another green bean caught in the scheme,
Join the A-Team, we’re pulling it tight,
Black and white, read all over the fuss,
While Mars rover takes off in the dust.
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Blue Bonnets bloom in the moon’s glow,
No one needs to know, just let it flow.
I burned bridges filled with old matches
With a flick of my newest match.
we find life in moments within nature
in the rain
or the thunder that soon follows
in a bushfire
from the trees that became hollow
but she brings her own life
and i find it incredibly peaceful
like rain on a tin roof
sometimes it's a loud love
like a bike at full throttle
she's lightning in a bottle
energetic and explosive
but not all the time
sometime she's the light
to a small candle
a little flame that sometimes goes out
and that's okay
because you can't be the light in the room
forever
sometimes you need another spark
to lift you through the rough patches
i'll forever be that person for you
i'll forever be holding the matches
Book of Matches and Phone Number
If you put a
book of matches and
your phone number on a
slip of
cardboard (lined and sickly yellow) on
your mantelshelf in relation to
each other they’ll
mull over the
best way to
stop forever the
fierce growl of
animals. And too
butcher glove stench
will go.
Playing With Matches
We wired kids drank coffee
in Kroger's and stoled fire
and cigarettes. We were free.
Hoses doused a funeral pyre.
We kissed girls felt fears
something like young desire,
warmth we'd chase for years.
Just bring me a box of matches and some pretty blue thread
I had no idea what was in the mind of my creative cousin Ned
He whipped up a climbing ladder, and stuck it near the bread
We went right up in a few minutes, and were amply fed.
We are in the furniture store.
Oops. Pardon me, ma’am.
We are in the DEEEEE SIGN….ERRRR Store.
I see a bed I like.
I say “I feel like throwing a match in my house and starting over.”
Elise is snickering on cue.
The designer of the month is walking behind us.
I know because I recognize her from her giant photos in the store.
She says “We have matches here.”
I like her but not this prissy store.
What matches orange?
The husband asked thinking the couch was a mistake.
She was a decorator – not a paid one,
but nevertheless, she was a visionary.
She had the room put together in a week.
People raved about its beauty.
Husband tried to take credit for the orange couch a couple of times.
One look made him back off; but he never questioned her taste again.
Friends of friends came for months to see this gorgeous room.
Orange goes well with every shape, style and color in the world.
Those amber embers of muted mushes
those emerging shades of shadows
as suns tendrils soften skies
that grey to nights touch
Rays of golden reds and readied goals
Stretching clouds that simper into twirls of wisp
its journey ongoing
leaving the night
to cool the glowing
stretch of lines splatter
in combing breaks and sprays
and fishing stars
present from light
that once was
The years pass
but the soul doesn't
accept...
The body
undergoes changes,
that heart
rejects...
the legs creak
as if they were
teeth, and the
teeth fall out
as if they were
drunk...
The body ages,
but not the soul
of child...
The skin, the fur,
the hair if
discolor, but
the spirit if
maintain it fixed
at the age that
it suits us:
we all stay
in thirty or
forty, because
we all desire
reach hundred but
not now... reach
hundred...!
Unable to match
The death tolls
Box after box of matches
rubbing our
legs together
slowly then
rapidly hoping
to light
a fire
Showing off again lol, I made this for my grandsons wedding day
Once the fire is lite you must let it burn
If you have a match that has struck your soul
Let your heart burn and never let go
For the match that has lite your fire
Will bring light into your eyes
And others will see this flame
That has been placed into your smile
So keep this fire burning
Look into each others eyes
See that refection of this fire
That keeps your soul alive
Each and every day turn up the heat
Never worry about a heating bill
Always kindle your hearts desire
If you think your flame is burning out
Think only about that first match
That lite your house on fire
Imagine a match that when struck's flame is colored,
Its box shows us people (each different race),
And with slogans that sparkle like, "Come Light My Fire!"
Wow! Marketing's easy! A nice change of pace!
"A Colored Flame's Better!" Will matches, so rad sell?
"Please Rub Us The Way That You Like Is Our Plea!"
"Lucky Strikes! Oh, So Hot!" Have you got one better?
Know I sure am sold psychologically!
Long Tooth
January 2018
The art shop went up in flames
No one was at fault
These things happen
All colors screamed out in black and white
Insects inside ran furious with the paint
Toasted crisp with no complaints
Their secrets too are safe
Regarding the rain
Which was already falling
Kept its distance from the unusual
Watering plants in plain sight
As you might expect
Fire hoses twisted with men in helmets
It is a job worth doing
To come prepared for battle
They came too late to fight
Insurance covers water hazards
That's all that matters
Water mixed with ash remains
When the shop collapsed in ruin
It is only natural and meant to happen
Matches were never found at the scene
Sub Categories
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.