Wrap This Around Your Metal Brains
Don’t sing along with her—
it upsets her, brings
her close friends into this.
And I’m only human, I think—
I was, or used to be anyway.
Not anymore. I stay awake,
hungry, not wanting
to eat food because
the girls and their dad have to.
I sneak down late, before sleep,
to rummage a bit—
only to be told not to eat
the food that is theirs.
I’ve adapted by losing weight.
With that came madness—
a sort of punishment.
I’m gorgeous and suffering
quietly so no one sees it,
reinforcing another solid,
popular mental illness,
by the way.
And this is my business,
my purpose: dull and witless.
Talking through this, I fear,
would scare a regular person.
I hate this.
I won’t talk to therapists.
Counseling’s out of the question.
I don’t have to pay anyone
for writing this. I don’t care.
Talking to people
I’m smarter than—
this way, one day,
when people come across this,
I’ll be the famous one.
(Posthumously.)
(Pema, spring of 2024)
Old and Crusty
Pema the deaf dog
Has gotten to the point
Where long walks are out of the question
But long naps are without question.
He’s looking pretty scruffy these days
Tongue always hanging out a bit
Since he has so few teeth left,
Eyes cloudy and weepy
And joints all stove up,
But I still love him with all my heart.
And so does everyone else who knows him,
But more and more it’s not so much
For the pug he is
As much as the one he once was
And this recognition breaks my heart
A little each time I realize it.
Breaks my heart for him and his numbered days
And for me, his faithful master
Who really isn’t much different.
(6/12/25)
It was full of long stringy grass which had grown out, all over the back of the house. It hung over the bare walls. The briars were everywhere and they would prick you clean red blooded. The shed widows shattered and the door covered in heavy moss. the thick smoke running out from the chimney looked like it was about to go up in flames. The red ransomes lawnmower was rotted in rust and rooted to the ground by long grass.The clothes line had snapped in half. The tarmac laneway was cracked with weeds pumping out from underneath it all. Remodelling was out of the question. It remained untouched and there was no even sign that anything would change
Forestry Service and Bureau of Land Management
I don't know, maybe this year, you do your damn job?!
Maybe this year, you anticipate the obvious trend of massive fires?
Do you think fire lines are out of the question? Equipment pre loaded in quadrants, with watch-towers and water for extreme dry conditions?
Follow the windA**holes !-!Maybe the royal pisssTheCitizens
are taking
can hit you on the way out.
When it happens it will
Still on the journey, self-imposed, emptiness is a friend.
Lonely, but not alone, as one we breath.
In & out, the fear in my mouth, swallow it, the truth and the lie.
A direct perception of reality is out of the question, but the answer lies in my spirit.
Why?
Well, how did this come to be?
I never met life.
I arrived too late, but it came back.
Yes indeed. Now I'm living and I want nothing.
Because having is the enemy.
A walk through the meadow
is now out of the question,
for I need no signs of death
and shadow to remind me
that life is fleeting.
A walk through the meadow
would not elevate my mood,
or bring feelings of elation
though, even in spring, I know
that life is fleeting.
A walk through the meadow
would bring tears to my eyes
as I would miss the thrashers,
colors of the asters, and know
that life is fleeting.
A walk through the meadow
must be reserved for uplifting
thoughts, meditating on life,
warmth, and no stark reminders
that life is fleeting.
Written October 6, 2022
Everyone raise concerns about each other,China raise concern about japan,US raise concern about China,Australia concern about China,Russia raise concern about NATO,NATO raise concern about Russia even my People are concerned about me..
Out Of The Question
Abhi ishq kay imtihan aur bhi hain,
Kalima parhnay walay daku chor bhi hain,
Musalmano me kuch sahiby goor bhi hain,
Abhi ishq kay imtihan aur bhi hain...
It’s called, ’excessive fork to mouth disease’.
Overeating too much of what we please.
Sitting excessively on our derrière?
Watching TV, or writing poetry with magical flairs?
Lockdowns were absolutely no excuse.
Blaming it on “Climate Change…”a bad joke and so incredibly obtuse.
Get off our buttoxes and exercise at home.
It’s OK, to leave your great, altar of the internet, alone!
We lovely women, lose weight slower than charming men.
But there’s no magic pill on which neither can depend!
If I made it from a size sixteen to a size seven,
You can do it, too, it’s simply like being in heaven.
Beers, breads and booze are out of the question.
Wines, pizza, chips just few more to mention!
The key is to not listen, to those who failed.
Else, you be imprisoned in an adipose jail!
Live very long and prosper!
Panagiota
8/20/2022
~3 ~
Do you ever wish you could be
another face in the crowd
that fades from everyone’s memory
blending in like brushstrokes on canvas
catching no one’s attention or mention
Just a mundane man among the many
laughing a bit too loud in the pub upon
hearing a bawdy joke you found funny
Oiling a squeaky door hinge or
repairing a kitchen drawer that sticks
ticking those tasks off a long list
of everything that needs to be fixed
in the modest house you had to
sacrifice and save so long to buy
Flying anywhere exceedingly rare
the cost of first class out of the question
Never wondering if the woman you’re with
truly loves you or merely the amount
of currency in your bank account
if she considered what hitching her horse
to your name might do to further her fame
Unfettered and free to simply converse
with someone like me
another nobody
Most never seem to find the time to seize the day,
Because they seldom if ever, ask the third Question,
And frequently fail to seize the day.
Whereas those who ask the third question,
Seldom fail to answer it in a positive way.
However, those who spend all of the day,
Without touching on the third Question,
Lose any chance of seizing the day,
With question three out of the question,
Leaving them in a bad way.
The first question most ask of the day,
Is how did we get to this point question?
Some will be moved to ask why of the day?
If they don't ask again the first Question,
In a more agitated way.
Only a few will get to the third question by the end of the day,
Either by going straight to that question,
Or saving question one and two for another day,
Preferring to seize the day,
By answering question three in logical way.
So, if you want to seize the day,
Remember there is a third question,
Which should be answered by the end of the day,
What are we going to do now is always the big question?
Few get to ask before they lose their way.
I wanted but to write
In blindness and in sight,
A poem for nobody to read,
Except my Annabel Lee, indeed .
A poem she won't place on her bookshelf,
A poem not for her mother to see,
A poem to keep only to herself,
A love poem to my Annabel Lee.
I wanted to write to her a letter
Of strength, of courage.
I can't be sure I'll say it better
Or my words of love will be average.
A letter that will make my beloved smile
A letter that will draw me close from miles.
A letter that will make time fly so fast
She will feel that the present is the past...
I wanted but to write
In blindness and in sight,
In words out of the question,
In the depth of delight,
In pure feelings of affection,
A poem of attention.
A letter that in history has never been
A letter that in mystery will never be seen;
A poem for only her to see,
A poem to my Annabel Lee.
But because I favor to live
Persistence is what I don't have;
And because I am in quandary,
Not to write to her is my only boundary.
Swinging along singing a song
Was a lass wearing a pale blue-bonnet
It was a beautiful day, the month of May
Her bonnet had flowers on it
The flowers were pretty it was a pity
The girl was on her ownsome
She didn't mind she wasn't the kind
She never felt sad or lonesome
The birds in the trees sang harmonies
A barn owl hooted with laughter
A dog passing by, gave a poodle the eye
She wasn't sure what he was after
A pig gave a snort he would report all this jollification
To a judge that he knew he was a gnu
A little above his station
At the end of the day, there was nothing to pay
The judge thought the pig's suggestion
To summon anyone for having fun
Was completely out of the question
Have you ever played pick up sticks?
Or just watched the rain and get bored
Is Jump rope gone forever or does?
Hop Scotch have new different rules
I guess some kids today are still
Playing hide and seek I can’t find them
Climbing a tree or building a tree house
Is out of the question they might get dirty
Trading football cards is now big business
We have taken it away from the kids
Hula-hoop does not spin around any more
Nor does the yo yo go down to the ground
Are ant farms now only found underground?
Is flag football dead in the parks?
Are all games now just checkmate and no one wins
Did we forget how to run through a sprinkler?
Or drink water out of a hose not from a bottle
Like babies do
Has life become living in a box never talking
My memories of yesteryear are fond
The memories of today will be gone
Disappearing games and fun the only memories they will have
Will be, I forgot how many gigs did it took to play
That game
A muscular good-looking prince was in love with a princess so fine,
But he accidentally died on a hidden chicken bone, when he dined.
He accidentally wayfared himself to the bowels of he**, in the back.
Where the meanest devils wanted to eat him as a holiday snack.
“He’s in the wrong place,” the hot-as-Hades jury man yelled in his cup.
He has to go back to the earth world, but they’d burned his body all up.
“What bodies do we have left?” Devil asked his committee, all around.
Zod’s body, the fiercest dragon in the world, was the only one they found.
So they put the prince’s soul in it, and sent him back to Princess Mur.
Consummation was out of the question, but at least he still had her.
Zod stands guard daily by her castle, in his formidable attire.
And chases off all other princes, who come along to admire.
He knows they can never fully a loving, live-long couple truly be.
But he is standing guard forever now, in his muscular entirety.
Princess Mur knows there is something special about this champion as well.
She has dreams about him that are so sensual, they must come from the bowels of he**.
Get into Shape Maureen
Scary words for a Square
Or if you are a fat get like me
My head is the shape of a potato
My waistline resembles a Burger
And my bum takes the shape of a Doughnut
Because I can't keep my mouth shut
And I have Pear induced childbearing hips
And my thighs pass for ships in the night
So I can't wear anything tight
For fear of splitting the seams on my skinny jean's lol
And i have to wear a sport's Bra to flatten my bust
So I don't get asked out on many date's
And on-line dating is out of the question
Unless I fail to mention
When asked to describe my body Shape ?
Because I then would have to reply ?
Round a kind of figure of 8
Not so much a Shape
More a Pyramid with uneven side's
Or a Poached Egg attached to a head
You say Shape
I say Clay
Or children's putty
For Maureen Mcgreavy
Get into Shape poetry contest
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.