Paper Bag Poems | Examples

Just a - Haiku's

Just a  Haiku’s

You made me dumb drunk
I gave a  for your mind
It was just a 

Dim of mind you are
Thinking that a  is love
It was just a 

Paper bag o'er head
Is how I wished you to be
It was just a 

When I did  you
It was her face I did see
It was just a 

Regret meeting you
Nearly lost the one I want
You were just a 

By Cathrin Stuart

A Brown Paper Bag

It looks almost full or half empty.
A pregnant bulge
something firmer than a sandwich
less firm than a brick.
A dirty diaper?
Something worse?

Once I found a dead parakeet
wrapped in a discarded paper bag,
when I dropped it in disgust
its head lolled out,
one dull eye fixed upon
the space I had just left.

The paper is mottled by damp winds,
stained as if hands had clutched it
too long.

Here it is, a sore thumb
in an deserted parking lot.
Poked the bag with a nudging toe,
unsure, circle it apprehensively.

Decide at last
when something's too big
to be left behind - yet is left behind,
then best to leave it
bloody-well alone.

A Brown Paper Bag In a Parking Lot

A pregnant bulge
with an angular stretch and twist,
something firmer than a sandwich.
A dirty diaper?
Bundles of illicit dollar?

I once found a dead parakeet
wrapped in a discarded paper bag,
when I dropped it in disgust
its head lolled out,
one dull eye fixed upon
the space I had just left.

The paper is mottled
by damp roaming winds,
stained as if hands had clutched it
too long.

It's not time yet to be a scavenger,
but in a few moments
I might nudge the bag with
a hesitent toe.
Or I might return later,
sneak under the low clouds,
that often gather

when something too big
to be left behind –
is left behind.

Tribute To the Paper Bag Princess Book

Will she ever guess his name?
Will she be able to spin straw into gold?
Will she ever find her prince?
Will she ever find out she is a princess?

Will she ever get to walk the path without a wolf?
Will she ever get those cookies to grandma?
Will she ever be able to come out of the tower?
Will fairy tales ever become more like Mulan?

A college professor gave me The Paper Bag Princess
A children’s book, at my college graduation. 
Saying I reminded her of the princess in the story.
Maybe best compliment ever.

Paper Bag Seagulls

Paper bag seagulls
scrawl across the
dying day
Slivers of disappointed rain
hang within the air
Darkness slowly suffocates
as chill wraps his arms around
my broken shoulders
Crested puddles
seek refuge in my shoes
Clothes plastered to my limbs trying
to keep warm
As the new born night
steals the light of passing cars and lamps
breathing in the antidote
of mixed rain and sprayed wind
that cures the poisoned day.

Paper Bag People

All the people I've known 
Are holding hands with the empty promises they made 
So they are not alone 
When day breaks
And everyone keeps getting in the way
Saying this and this
Doing nothing nothing
Feeling better with the apathy
Someone never held me
And glued me back together
Unless I kept their secrets
Unless I gave them cash
So many friends I've had
Couldn't tell you 
A thing about me
Or what I need
We were sounding boards and fool's
We ran the train tracks and begged at the mall
We talked and we got high
We failed to be anything legit
People and their whole lives
Are letting truth slip away
Putting integrity on clearance racks 
And faking character with all the right words
But I stand against the wall
I see you and I know what you are
You cannot hurt me with your soul hustle
With your transparent bag of tricks
My perception is true
And my intentions are unfaltering 
Even when I shake
Even if I cry
My words are thoughtful 
My actions are reliable 
Even when I'm lonely
Even if I hurt

The Paper Bag Princess

The Paper Bag Princess written and illustrated by men,
A fantastic lesson that quickly empowers women.
If you have not read it, it packs a life-changing punch.
Illustrated by Martchenko, written by Robert Munsch.
This sparse, children’s book was given to me by my college prof.
“It reminds me of you,” she said, “And is interesting stuff.”
The unique illustrations are wonderful, the dragon is really scary.
It makes you think maybe you don’t have to be in such a hurry to marry.

Paperbag

I am a paper bag.
I am only as good as what I can carry.

I am a paper bag, I am.
I’m not the smart one,
I’m not the successful one
I’m not the tall one who always won and 
Then died. 
I am a paper bag.
I’m only as good as what I can carry.

I am a paper bag, 
I’m not plastic, not I.
I am paper: rough, brown and thin
I’m not waterproof, you know.
And I can’t hold any liquids or gases within.
I only have room for the stuff that matters.
You know, I’m a paper bag.
I’m only as good as what I can carry.

I am a paper bag.
Wrinkled and used and often abused
Thrown on the floor.
Buried deep inside your drawers.
I am a paper bag. 
I cannot ask for anything more.
I’m only as good as what I can carry.

https://tinyurl.com/y5c4pnet

An Old Brown Paper Bag

There it is blowing in the wind
having no control of its own
the wind which you cannot see
controls it as fully as it's blown

That little old brown paper bag
tells a picture of life so mundane
we live here getting blown all around
knocked about leaving one many a stain

It's really so vulnerable like us all
so light easily prone to many a tear
in days before plastic, brown bags were all
nothing else for it and it's not too dear

There we are just like them so
but we're tough able to persevere
so next time you use one of them
remind yourself that's me so very clear

Paper Bag Head

Paper Bag Head




                      Like musical notes my voice dissipates in the air

                              Was I even there?
                                Why can't I remember where?
                                  The roots of my square...

                      Affirmations missed, the nobody list

                              Does anyone care?
                                Is anyone out there?
                                  Life's not fair...

                      The want to be needed, yet defeated
                    
                              Why am I me?
                                What is happening?
                                  The Ugly Duckling...





                                      bmdavey@05/04/16

Special Paper Bag

Hours before tolls rang of Christmas midnight
My godchild quite young, cuddled me real tight,
Above, he pointed at the biggest star
Then named it after me, brilliant from afar.

My heart sang with his boyish thoughtfulness
Amidst revelry, cheers started to progress
Tidings and food graced the house and pine tree;
Opening gifts on eve of jubilee.

Beside my loot stood a wobbly paper bag
With drawings my fingers had to untag
Surprised, I murmurmed my holiday wish;
Inside was a handmade star on creped varnish.

Teary-eyed, a note of love written down
Across a pad trimmed with bows all around;
His precious gift  made breaths rise, to exhale
Oh, from a child who couldn’t rightly spell!    



Contest: Deb Wilson's The Perfect Christmas Gift
Poet: nette onclaud

The Paper Bag

Sad, sad little paper bag
No one brought you to school
Nobody listened to the crinkle
Of a sandwich being lifted out of you 
Folded up and left in the junk drawer 
All hope was lost, deflated and defeated 
Until, one day, some little hands
Drew your eyes with black marker
On your bottom, and made you anew 
Little green scales, some red and yellow
Hooray, the day has come! All hail!
The dragon that guards the tea party!

Paper Bag Princeless

Another paper bag sits on the table.
Just haunting me with memories of how life used to be, 
memories of how you used to be. 
For before those paper bags with those four letters on them, 
LCBO, 
came into play we used to laugh, 
we used to sing, we used to joke around. 
Before those brown paper bags came into your life you loved me. 
But now they're here, and they might be here to stay. 
And as long as they are here, the true you is not. 
So due to those brown paper bags, 
I am now Paper Bag Princeless!

Brown Paper Bag

Filtering out images of homeless minds
drinking soda pop
in brown paper bags.
Dreaming of flying to
neon lights
plastered like
mirrors
on the wall.
We talk allot about tomorrow.
Future plans.
Illusions we pretend
are as real
as the knives
we have created.
Throwing balls against the dirt.
Tossing words like
jangled wounds
into the
fires of remorse.
Hide and seek, that is
the game
we like to
perform.
And being reborn in
new shadows of cigarette ashes
gathering like sand-castles
on the beach.
I reach my point of no return.
Finding electrical wires
scattered
across my newly cut mind.
We talk allot about tomorrow.
Future plans.
Illusions we pretend
are as real
as the knives
we have created.

Paper Bag Poem - Iv

I’m not shy about my sins; 
most I know,
and some you’ve caught.
Yet,I have a love that sings
straight through my eyes, 
and for that, poets won't write my faults.

• Short Paper Bag Poems
• Famous Paper Bag Poems
• Best Paper Bag Poems
• Read Paper Bag Poems
• Long Paper Bag Poems
• Paper Bag Quotes