Plastering Poems | Examples

Any Obsessed Fan

Seeing their faces and hearing their voices,
Keeping track of their whereabouts, all the places,
Gossiping and commenting about their life and choices,
Plastering pictures of them all over your walls,
If you had their number, you'd make dozens of calls,
You love to devour any hot news,
Everyone has his or her muse.

The Sale

A keyboard gigolo
works on his profile.
He photoshops a younger him,
plastering the Net
with his winsome smile.

Is he very different
than the little lies
we share in real time?

Best face forward,
but under our hands
we are digitizing
a pseudo existence.
one more acceptable
to the rigors
of a life-long
hard sell.

A Cure is Vengeance

They are telling us we need to be cured.

They are telling us they are trying to keep us comfortable.

By plastering us with sticky bandages as if we are mummies.

They say we are decrepit mummies from a tomb.

And we will fall apart without their help.

They say we are undead and useless.

But a cure is on the way.

A cure is insidious.

A cure is vengeance.

Death In the Doorway

death's stood in the doorway
but i'm no good with words
so my pleas for mercy
come in the form of
fresh bandages on old wounds
and plastering my vices on greeting cards

though the reaper argues
that if there was any value
in a butterfly whose wings
are pinned to a corkboard
or a soul with one foot in the grave
and the other being fed to wolves
he'd carry his mercy in spades

Waking Up the Same Person

Every morning I wake up
I hope I wake up as someone else
I'm tired of living this life
I'm tired of plastering a smile on my face
When I know it's just a lie
I'm tired of the masquerade ball
I'm tired of wearing a mask to hide my tears
Just once when I wake up
I want to be someone else
I want to be a better person
A person who made better choices
A person with direction
A person with valor and virtue
I want to feel like my life matters
I want to wake up to texts from friends
Wanting to hang out
I want to remember what it's like
When people cared if I lived or not
I just want to wake up
And be someone else
Instead I wake up as me
Failing to realize
Every day I wake up
Is a chance to become someone else

Prancing Through Midnight Fire

Prancing through midnight fire
I called my soul to surrender
She laughed
Diabolically

Shocked at my daring
and my failure to train myself
even in death, I pulled out the big guns
Plastering her with truth in leaden forms

She refused to comply
Making me angry, but also
infuriating me, as I was losing her respect
Which was the only thing I thought I would have in the end

Silly me.

Lingering Words

Years pass but the toxic, recurring echo remains heard 
Distasteful slurs and horrid remarks fill in every last crack and crevasse 
Plastering together an utterly repulsive vision of yourself 
Displeasingly seen through your very own tainted heart and mind.

Lingering words feast upon vulnerability and unfaced fear 
The unruly poisonous parrot squawks 
Telling of your torturous bullied and picked on past 
Plucking at the deepest insecurities you fail to hide and overcome. 

Brightly neon colored to capture mass attention
Capturing and dismantling your ability to think for yourself 
Slowly but surely the bullies from your past own your identity 
Lingering words formed through high school envy 
Stuck playing on an agonizing loop for excruciating eternity. 

Maybe one day you will stop feeding the poisonous parrot with self-doubt 
Begin poisoning the lingering words with self-appreciation and hard-earned success. 

January 9, 2019

Plucking The Poisonous Parrot Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy

At the End of 2017

Just took a Nitroglycerin,
Do you know what that is?
A pill to ease stress and pain 
When the World seems to dis!

Never been written up yet,
From Nursery to Adult Jobs
Even though I was no foolish pet.
I only did so without any sobs.

Now in reality there are haters,
Plastering, pestering, being bothersome
Where ever I go and caters,
To things in reality so noisome!

It’s almost 2018! They falsely 
Get together to prey;
And I’m no morsel hastily 
Eaten to finally spray.

Goodbye 2017 of malice, spite, criticism 
That I would use in 2018 era
To read the Cathetism,
For their corrupted circa de ‘17.

Page 1

Scattered room, a mess.
 Disorganized. 
Empty bottles of prescription pills. 
Empty water bottles. 
Empty void. 
Yet the trash is half empty too. 
A beating heart that's tightening 
The heartbeats slow down
Then speeds up again. 
The nerves signal the cortex
The brain, to replay. 
The worst things in life. 
Green tea which boosts metabolism
Supposed to boost the better emotion
But it's not.
The void is still there. 
The light reflections are not a warm glow 
They are of emptiness and shallow.
Though there is no presence of conflict 
In this moment in time
Why does it still exist? 
Hands close
Hands open
Hands freezing cold.
Lifeless.
Dreams come and go
Nightmares stay.
But this is not that girl, that boy.
Being strong isn't hiding
Plastering fake smiles on.
Being strong is talking and conquering.
But the laughter and positivity 
They're superglued.
There's an abyss elsewhere.

I'Ll Paint This Dress Red

Alice 
Come here dear
The young blue-eyed girl
Skips to her grandmother
What should I wear to this dreadful ball?
The little girl stared furiously for three seconds
The blue-eyed girl eagerly pointed her finger at 
The Silky white rhinestone laced ball gown
Oh really !!!
what an awfully dull choice….
Didn’t I tell you to be useful!!
The little girls smile vanished as quick as it appeared
The grandmother stands
I’ll pick this red dress
Thank the lord heaven above I don’t
Listen to retarded children 
The girl stands there a smile still plastering her face
The grandmother screams
Why didn’t I just give you away 
To your old drunkard bastard of a father
she paces around the room and stops
Come here dear!!!
She screams 
The grandmother offers out her hand
The girl walks forward 
Ill pick your dress
The girl smiles
Really grandmother
Yes 
Ill paint this dress red

What It Is Like To Smile

It’s a fake smile. 
It’s being 3 months old and having a mother in jail. Being 2 years old and being confused whether or not you have a mother. Being 17 and finding out the woman who gave birth to you has kept you a secret from everyone she knew. 
It’s a real smile. 
It’s being 6 and in the adoption process for a new mother. It’s opening the letter from court saying you officialing have a mother in your life. It’s being 17 and having your mom brag about your every accomplishment to every single person. 
It’s a fake smile.
It’s being 12 and having your innocence taking away from you. Taken away from you by someone who had no business touching you. When people ask why you don’t have a boyfriend yet and you have to pretend you really want one. 
It’s a real smile. 
It’s your whole life when you having caring people all around you. Loving you when you need it the most. When you are sitting on your bed crying or at Christmas dinner laughing so hard you’re crying.
It’s being depressed and having to plastering a fake smile across your face when people are around. It’s being overjoyed and thankful and shining your smile when no one is looking.

House a Home

Bought an old cottage
In the country side
Needs some renovation
Have to modernize
On a plot of land all on its own
Wanna make this house a home
 
 
 
 
Gonna fix those windows
New bathroom too
Another thatched roof
Make it brand new
Go to the bank and ask for a loan
Wanna make this house a home
 
 
 
 
It needs some plastering
The kitchens a mess
But it’s got character
Style and the rest
Fallen in love with these pretty stones
Gonna make this house a home
 
 
 
 
It’s a house of two seasons
Picture cosy evenings
Sitting by the open fire
I get a special feeling
From those old oak beams
Gonna make this house my desire
 
 
 
 
You choose the wallpaper
And I'll pick the leather
I'm sure we'll be happy
Decorating together
Can't think of anything 
Than designing together
To make this house a home
 
 
 
 
This house is not a home
Without the finishing touch
I'll build a wall out the front
Put fence out the back
Lights along the pathway
Flowers and some gnomes
Now doesn't that look sweet
This house is our home
 
 
 
 
© Copyright KC.Leake
26th June 2015
All Rights Reserved

Fair Day In Carrick

Jostling between the cattle
as they crowded the street
with steaming bodies
I steered my bicycle to school.

Fresh manure lay
in puddles on the ground,
plastering my shoes 
with sloppy mush.

Men with caps and hats
at all  angles, slapped hands
and bargaine, buying
and selling all day long

Many shop windows
were nailed with slats of wood, 
to prevent the glass
being gored by horns.

A few livelier beasts might
wander into pubs and shops,
causing consternation.

On my way home,
shopkeepers with buckets
of water and yardbrushes,
tried to clean the street,

but it still reeked of beasts
and a day of dung.

Corruption

Plastering is done from top
but it's built from foundation
corruption also starts from top
removing will save nation.

The Essence of Homebuilding

a schmaltzy little homily to our successful marriage of 32 & a bit years:

In Our time
We have fathomed
the intricacies
of Measurement
and Angle,
conquered the
Everest of
Plastering 
& painted whole worlds
Many colours, many times over.
We have
Mastered the
Logic of tiling,
Plumbed the ancient
Mysteries of water,
Sanded, chiselled, nailed 
& screwed to make things fit AND stay there!
Only to discover, at the end
Of all this sweat & toil
That the essence of home-building is…
the Level. @

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