Plasters Poems | Examples

The arc of imagination

There’s beauty in imagining great things;
It lights our dark future with hope-filled dreams ~
Visions of peasants ordained to be kings,
And plebeians crowned as queens, so it seems.
It charts dream paths lit by elegant beams.

Imagination hears each scarecrow's groans;
It squeezes water from dry desert stones.
It carves deep oceans in hot desert sand,
Lifting us from known realms to worlds unknown,
Where minds may wander due to no command.

Imagination lends us its safe wings,
So we can soar toward futures we choose,
To fill our life with hopes and precious things;
Though striking gold is never a mere cruise,
Nor are the lily-livered crowned as kings.

Sweat would streak our face and our skin would bruise,
Our legs may throb and swell with insects' stings;
It's for our future that we pay the dues —
We'll patch our hurts with plasters, cloth, and slings,
On great hopes, our imagination clings.

It’s real hopes that imagination brings,
With peace of mind when reason reigns supreme,
With thoughts that glide without the need for wings—
Yet sometimes birth false hopes no truth redeems.
And dreams may fade like echoes in a stream.

Imagination

Date written: 26th July, 2025
Contest: Three Options in I Poetry
Sponsor: Constance La France
The man who has no imagination has no wings.
— Muhammad Ali
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Imagination lends me its safe wings,
So I can soar toward futures I choose,
To fill my life with hopes and precious things;
Though striking gold is never a mere cruise,
Neither are lily-livered crowned as kings.

Sweat would streak my face and my skin would bruise,
My legs may throb and swell with insects' stings,
It's for my future that I pay the dues —
I'll patch my hurts with plasters and with slings,
On great hopes, my imagination clings.

When We Get There

When we get to our appointed heaven
hearts and minds still cooling
slights and insults recovering
from many a minor bullet hole
from small caliber affronts
loathing’s and spites
and other petty punctures
wounds covered over so long
with rank plasters
plugs and scabs
that even now leave
a tell-tale lingering smell
an inevitable odor
of a once self-inflicted hell

Hallways

Why must there always be a sacrifice souring the taste of something nice
Just a moment on the lips but a lifetime on the back shelf of the mind
Taking up space you can’t afford 
You can barely pay your rent
Not enough to need to forgive but too much to forget
Maybe you are too kind
Wandering the hallways politely knocking on every door you find 
Quietly praying that what lies behind is something you can finally put behind 
The quest for answers usually begins with more questions 
But the beginning has long since passed us
And let’s admit that we’re really tired
And though you tried you know you can’t fix open wounds with plasters
So leave it open it’ll heal faster
Don’t romanticise the scars 
But remember to bathe in the beauty of the chaos
Because you are on your way to the stars
Even if your estimate was way off

Shining Son

Shining Son.
Mum, can you see me?
Can you see what I’ve done?
Do you understand I wouldn’t,
Be here, without you mum.

Dad, are you looking?
Smoking your Player’s fags
Rubbing your chest like you 
Used to, look at me, now, dad.

The rumours always abounding.
You didn’t want me around.
It’s no longer hurtfully astounding.
Some babies just aren’t planned.

All the things you did I remember.
The poverty, jealousy and the lies.
I’ve let all the malice go now.
Understand your shocked surprise.

But of course, I’ll never know.
Just exactly how you felt.
I see the holes in our carpet.
And my heart begins to melt.

I know you had dreams dad
Mum’s sewing could’ve been more.
You both stuck it out together.
Blooded plasters, on festering sores.

So, I’ve competed but never won.
I’ve tried and dreamed just like you.
I’m grateful, you had one last passion.
And created me, your shining son.

Poses and Pout

She plasters it on thick
Bleaches ,curls and glues
Draws on and colours in
Products galore she does use

After hours of beautification
She squeezes into a tiny short dress
Huge breasticles on display
Bum cheeks peeking out to impress

Now for the selfie photo shoot
Complete with sexy poses and pout
She is finally ready to leave
Her only destination McDonalds drive through and out!!

Puffing

puffing
plasters the cracks
of reality
with fantasies...

offering luxury items
for mass
consumption

(verse)


7/07/2021


Picture This 2 - 7 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph Mayimage
Image #2

Big Job

Big Job 

There's a big job breaking out
Time for smelling salts and focus
There is no magic wand this time
No top-hat hocus pocus 

Time to wheel out heavy gear
Flex our muscles and get busy 
Pick ourselves a loyal team
With dreams so high they're dizzy 

There's a big job breaking out
And it's clear we need to fix this
Sticking plasters just won't do
For this world defining crisis 

Labourers to garden, 
Experts in their field
Anyone who cares enough
To bring this crop to yield 

Shoulder to the grindstone
Knuckles cracked and ready
Wrestle with the challenges
And climb to heights so heady 

Engineers and carpenters 
Housewives,  teachers, leaders
No time to waste. No shirking off.
Ask everyone to heed us 

There's a big job breaking out
Blue lights are flashing by 
Too much plastic in the ocean
No more ozone in the sky..

We need healers for creation
For neglecting all our duty
The reflection may be ugly
So it's time to bring back beauty 


Jinjagoliath
10th February 2021

A City of Drugs

I watched as you toddled, giggled and played
dancing around with the new friends you made
crying for plasters when you grazed your knee
my little angel- the whole world to me
as you grew older I saw something had changed
prayed you would ask for help before it was too late
now sorrow surrounds me as I kneel at your grave
my rescue too late you did not want to be saved
tears that I shed and asking God why-
you never reached out- why you wanted to die
photo's fading of your smile long ago
weeds overgrow on your grave- yes, I know
its too hard to sit there and remember the way
you used to toddle and giggle and play
one day I will join you in heaven above
until then angel I hold onto your love
May God in His wisdom forgive man his sins
In this City of drugs where evil wins.

Night of Memories

On my walls still drips our night of memories
    Donning underdone hues of love's shambles
    
    Fingers running through through it tastes silent stories
    I see dense darkness refracted on walls through critical angles

   Each moment stuck as sepia pictures on damp plasters
  Getting ablazes as isolated thunderstorm scatters
   
  Night of memories that reigns on my unveiled iris
 Enlivened is dying echoes in melancholy's abyss

Date written-08/04/2019
Contest-Writing Challenge 1-April ,2019-Its all about 8-Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Dear Heart

I Dreamed a Dream

I dreamed a dream
My home's closing door slammed
To sound of silent regrets
And slowly you slipped to oblivion
My hope is the deserted room
With crumbled petals from broken vase strewn
Dust accumulated
Has enveloped my once
Glowing face
Sobbing tears of unsaid words
Are hanging in sorrows' frame
Silhouettes of yesterdays
Breathing last on torn plasters of wall
Dark has unpacked bags in my room
And raindrops have forever forgotten my doorsill
For they fail to recall 
Our duets that we sung
Holding them plentiful in our palms
My bottom has fallen further to immeasurable distance
And my roofs have curled their arms
I tried and tried
But without shackles my chained limbs
Failed to hold on
My beams have met their destiny
They are part of archaic stories
My dream is somewhere stuck in wooden clock
It's hours hand 
Easy prey of termites 
Lost existence

18/02/2019

In the Bin

Time for a de-clutter , make some room
in drawers and shelves,
Feng Shui folk swear that it makes
one feel good about oneself.
These trainers from my glory days
of racing round a track
now swopped for orthopaedic shoes
that help my calves and back.
That old Blue Stratos aftershave
for attracting women faster,
all I need now is my Gillette G3
and a box of sticking plasters.
The medallion and gold chain can go
from nineteen seventy six,
as my Medic alert tag round my neck
will not pull any chicks.
The tight briefs from back when I had
ideas above my station,
replaced with baggy boxer shorts
for better ventilation.
And should God say my time is up
and kindly call me home,
he'll find that I shall travel light-
no more need for this comb!

A Flood of Tears

A Flood of Tears

When tears glue eyed lids’ tar to balls of fire
	
        and tear apart a soothing balm called resolution
	
        as tar defeats the lysosomes of ragged vision
	
        a third eye calls for sixth sense in a sickened time
		
                 a cry for a cry decries a festering splinter inside out



When shackled chakra invites distorted sounds

	sticks on that loopy tone and tune in endless loops

	as hearing plasters mucilage in mutilation’s muteness

	a third ear of quietude invites a healing frequency

	        a voice reprimands cacophony and beats the drums

When smell exudes a sewer’s skewer

        taste falls foul on buds and buts again

        touch lost its grip on grapple’s clench

	and rotting leaves leave decomposed what’s left behind

		one message remains to battle out the wreckage

There is no phoenix no panacea no external healing

        no clever plot to complete the warring conqueror’s return

        let alone no algorithm or conceited panoply of ease

	but only you can change the things you try and can

		and everything starts with longing length for suffering to cease

Darkness Into Light

At four am they walked last night.
From darkness into light.
Thousands appeared
all over this land
to lend a hand.

Depression the darkness we speak of
and other mental torment.
So gratifying to see
others who suffered,
just like me.

For the first time I can see a light.
A light that is shining bright
for us to reach for from
the dark recesses
of dulled brains.

I hope we no longer need hide behind
the happy mask we show mankind.
Just as plasters show we hurt,
perhaps now our hearts can
rest on our sleeves? 

Oh...yes please!



"Darkness into Light" is a sponsored walk in my country,
where people meet at 4am and walk in unison until the light of dawn.

Contaminated

CONTAMINATED

                 Contaminated
Don’t understand it
Fell in sewer, can’t stand it;
Live and dead rats raccoons;
Walkin, floatin
Dirty, polluted waters
Manure other unspeakable sources
Don’t understand it
               Contaminated
Harmful bacteria on food
Food poisoning
With bacteria, viruses
Chemicals or poisonous metals
Such as lead or cadmium.
              Contaminated
Something unpleasant
Is harmful  if spreaded on
Ends up in food, in our lungs
Land dirt, grasses
Air, animal/human skin
Even breathe in can happen in one of three ways
Physical spiritual condemnation
              Contaminated
When items such as hair, glass, plasters, dirt, insects
Other foreign bodies are present in food.
Usually visible,
              Contaminated
Most time hard to live with
Variety of mechanisms.
Inadequate hand washing
Mouth to mouth
Touch to touch
Body to body, yuk!
Body to inanimate objects
     Contaminated?


4/2/18

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