Removable Poems | Examples

Eidolon, Penumbra

Everything is normal
so not much to sing or say. 
No summer thunderstorm,
the snow was magical only for an hour.

Old men
aren’t removing women’s panties with removable dentures.
A belly laugh now and then,
an empty belly’s holy.

With simple joy
mortals may forget to fear their deaths. 
Simply put,
we do not survive. But what an adventure!

I heard an archangel cry
Don’t hurt the trees!
Also, save democracy.
Also, stop barking, believing in that higher power.

What’s Ken doing today? 
Watching TED talk lectures, 
planning next Spring’s garden.
It’s Death, not the Jewish king, in your rose garden.

As climates change 
species escape predators
and predators chase down prey. 
Choose sacrifice or blame.

I look at faces
and they look at mine, mute, animated spirits, 
black wet rocks,
victims among flames.

I embrace my anonymity, 
lost in my own city,
in the shade of a gazebo,
a mosquito’s acceptance of its position among a million mosquitoes.

Catching Butterflies

The black and orange dust
comes off on my fingers
revealing the fragile mesh
so easily crushed
therefore brave

I was troubled
the color was so loose
so removable to my hand
but even more at the
transparency beneath

Oh, don't go catching butterflies
until you are prepared to see
the underpinning delicate and clear
where there is courage
destructibility and fear

Self Commute

I wonder what it would be like
to have a removable headstone,
to have my own portable waymark
for this ever passing world.

Stuck in heavy triadic
the road slithers slowly forward
on my wet surface.
I am the traffic I move through.

I am driven to a  small park.
where children
are running around in a circle
while a stationary adult watches.
If I could, I would replant my tombstone there,
there in the center of the children,
as something for them to turn around.

It's not right
that they should all be revolving like that,
spinning  around nothing at all.

Birth House

Birth house, made of stone;
A shelter we called home.

Birth house, easily removable
and no less destructible.

Birth house, limited, temporal;
To be lived in, not lived for.

072622PSCtest, Bite Size Poem No. 50, Line Gauthier

Lipstick

I got this glittery, ruby-red, smudge-proof lipstick the other day 
and I really have to say technology is what separates us from the apes.

Well, technology and hair.. and.. - ok, let’s not dwell on the ape thing.

Remember when lipstick smeared like news-print? Well, neither do I - it was one of those old-timey things you hear about somewhere like phone-booths, CDs and smart republicans.

What about the young teenage girls who aren’t supposed to wear lipstick - who put it on, in the morning, at their locker, at school only to discover - seconds before their mom picks them up - that it's practically non-removable?  Try hiding your lips from your mom.

I want breath-freshening, pizza flavored, jerk-repelling, morning-after-pill lipstick - that glitters, irrisistably, like cotton candy 5ex.

*snort* If men wore lipstick I’m sure we’d have all that by now.

Anglophone Aficionado Exudes Infatuation With English Language Number 2

Ah, twas only by a fluke conversation,
whence a speech pathologist
informed my parents about
the Lancaster Cleft Palate clinic,
where oral an examination
revealed minor birth defect
identified as a submucous cleft palate,
which explained the severe pinched twang
somewhat mitigated by wearing
a removable prosthetic
fashioned by Prosthodontist

Dr. Mohammad Mazaheri MSC, DDS
fastened with clasps to upper teeth
whereby a makeshift miniature
plastic protuberance closed the gap
so air would be prevented
passing thru my button nose
and thus gentle and soft as a shutterfly
shunted air out thee oral opening
though congenital defect disallowed
returning merchandise back to sender
nor could blame be affixed

at either father nor mother
who both harbored the genetic mutation
now such admissions
re: aforementioned impediment allows,
enables and provides boasting rights
if in a mood to temper
any curiosity or satisfying a rumor
whispered down the alley,
whence I said “ah”
left nagging nincompoops
as if pie hole filled with a gobstopper.

Smoke Alarm

One in each bedroom. Where am I to sleep? 
Little listening devices, dot lime green light
Steadily gazing down at me all night
Surveillance recording my data to keep


Smoke alarms linking conspiracy 
Three roomed spies, tracking my actions
Informed by portion, a mirror refraction
Crackle of speaker tells me they're listening 


Walking beneath their sinister signal
Rubs a demure smoke stack 
Static sear of lightning attack
My frontal lobe, firey inflicted


Drills into my wobbled competence
Harboured horror of what's to come
I latch splinter of infiltration flung
Hazed head hampers responsiveness 


Piled with layers of quilts
Kitchen floor is in fact, quite comfortable 
Alarms are unconfrontable
-  I perceived the microphone tilt! 


Haphazard clothes cause me to stumble
In a cluttered closed door hallway
Could alarms be removable, - I have a way! 
Slid off plastic caps makes blaze redundant 



     1st August 2020

     Contest :    Be Inspired
     Sponsor:  Regina Mc Intosh

Words, Like Wind

words,
like wind,
sweep away thoughts,
of dark cyclones twisting,
truth, friction, half-lies and neither,
informing or deceit, inane and blowing,
mouths moving on removable friends,
smiles on plastic faces,
syrup or pap,
save us!
no,
not now,
maybe not ever,
this bed we made,
then wish not to sleep,
in piles of lies, cheap copies,
of honor bright, a truth,
and loudly act outraged,
at ending's result,
of liberty,
lost,
in dustbins,
or unrealized dreams,
our milk honeyed mess,
grand finale of men's trust,
bold blueprint, balm to burnt history,
of man's inhumanity to man,
but so easily rendered,
by hungering beasts,
bleating lambs,
slaughtered,
easily by,
those darkeyed ones,
wolves in men's skin,
whispering paradise, serving cold rain,
but push back the dark, oh
upright and clear eyed ones,
regain that firm foothold,
grasping the mantle,
willfully, again,
rise.

What Is Love

What is love?

It isn't something you make,
Nor is it something you take.

Is it an expression,
Or another word for obsession?
Maybe a feeling of progression,
Or removal of depression?

What is love?

Something we cannot define,
Something in our hearts that shine.
But a feeling possible so divine,
Is perhaps our one and only shrine.

Love is quite beautiful,
Not noisy, but musical.
Warmth that's not removable,
But also not delusional.

What is love?

An emotion without limitations,
With tenderness under all conditions.
An unconditional perfection,
Or maybe an amazing affection.

The Good Old Days - Journal Xvi

THE GOOD OLD DAYS – JOURNAL XVI

Looking back from this point
I’d have to make a division
Between adults and children
For adults the many tasks were more

The thirties were the ultra-sparse of times –
Men out seeking work, women with back
        breaking chores
The washboard, carpet beater, scrubbing (on
      hands and knees) floors –
For most no modern conveniences 

The kids – at least this kid – were relatively 
      happy
They might help out, certainly,
But had not the worry,
The responsibility

Things wearing out was not a big factor
Like, rubber resoles, needle and thread, 
      sewing machine,
The Model T with removable parts
The everyday things pristine
But people wore out
Everything moved so much slower
Those worn out moved slower –
      the worry, emotional fatigue -
One’s age, life expectancy much lower 

In these last few, as I reluctantly rise each day,
I want to remember the happy kid
And thank the martyrs, the miserable
For making him that way

Let Me Be Yours

Believe me divine beauty
I'll fulfill to you my duty
I swear to you i'll love you
Hold, laugh, play, cry, and smile with you

You want to change your looks
Wishing you had different colored eyes
But to me you're the definition of gorgeous
No other girls on my mind

Let me love you sweet lady
Give me the chance to earn your smile
To have your eyes on me sweet lady
Make both our lives worthwhile

Let me wipe away your tears when you cry
Share your pain when you fall from the sky
For you and only you i'll endure a sharp crucible
My love for you is not removable

Let me wrap my arms around you and i'll never let go
Forget about the others, your decision let me know
The girl of my dreams, woman of my soul
I pray to the stars above, that you'll let me be yours

Dying Breeds

Hearts broken, bleeding unkindly deeds
Gothic flighty missions behind enemies  
Sand storms ragging beneath sandcastles’
In the sand, star lighted passage rumors a merge
Impossible measures undisclosed 
Ventures, seductions lustful curses

Empowered trustees guided missiles
Heavens educed powers, misplaced by earth
Under fire enhancement drooling mode
Entombed rivers blinding earth, chanted measures’
Undisclosed universe, blissful interventions 
Dying breeds, savage gardens unfaithful  

Nerds, underhanded values 
Impossible deeds, declared measures 
Empowered sadden weaken’ pleas 
Under visions removable passion 
Deducted time zones dying thrones
Midnight feeders trashing homes 
Written By Anita Everhart

The Perspective of a Halloween Candle....

Bright, orange, white, flicker.....
Two black eyes, one dark mouth viewed,
I'm the flame inside

They trim the flesh out
Stubby children's hands; entrails
I'm the flame inside

My face-like windows
My removable roof-top
I'm the flame inside

On the Inside

when he looks into my eyes i wish he'd realize the

hurt and the pain and see all my scars and bruises 

that continue to drive me insane my head lets go
but my heart jus wont do so the simple things

bring water to my eyes the waterfalls so i cry no 

more hopes no dreams jus nightmares filled wit 

screams no lovek no lafter depression falls soon 
after wanting it all to be a bad dream wanting all 

that was seen to be unseen  my heart is being 

contained  and my nsides scream they want to let 

go but to no avail they fail and everything dies 

beckause of al the lies no smiles no joy no hope 

jus frowns tears and years of nothing, is removable

things given away but nothing positive gained deep 

inside theres nothing only hurt hate and pain...

Total Freedom

Total freedom is what we live for never before has there been such a need for 
American patriots to lead and end this tragedy before it fully breeds, you want to 
know what it is i speak why this cause is so unique just look today and every day 
what's happening on America's streets.

That police state they been talking about if your not afraid and filled with rage then 
you don't understand their underlining plan, you see every day that begins and 
fades away is yet another day we let these criminals continue to sale our country 
away and push our American folk into slavery.

Total freedom we must ask in this land were freedom was given to the very last 
now i ask again when you see your country falling into the hands of the global 
elite who want nothing more than your soul to keep.

It's extraordinary their ideology these fascist politicians who see our freedom as 
removable and unapprovable, total freedom to them means nothing that's why 
we must trust in a revolt. Remove the regime if we have any chance at this dream 
total freedom let it ring.

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