Seat Poems | Examples

A life almost undone

I woke too soon, a life almost undone
A sudden call came, before the light of day
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

Her life was spared, before the morning sun
She was okay, I heard her softly say
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone

No tragic end, no race was lost or run
Three lives affected, dark clouds rolled away
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

Thank heaven, no journey to the setting sun
I simply whispered a thanks today
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone

A precious chance, a new life has begun
There is a future, no more than delays
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

Startled I still have my daughter; beloved my only one
My fears all faded, at the break of day
I woke too soon, to a life almost undone
But all are safe, the reaper had not won

The Seat of Truth

The moth mistakes my bare skin for moonlight—recurring, insistent. Its wings dust the wrist like a forgotten promise, reminding me of a question I never dared ask aloud. I had held his wrist, not his hand. A ghost of a moment playing on loop in my hypnagogic state.

moonlight 
     TrEmBlEs 
on my wrist 
where s i l e n c e nestles 
and my pulse   
     p/u/l/s/e/s 
until wings 
forget what F L I G H T meant 
     without aCHe   
          and consequences …

Riding in the Back seat

moonlight turns raindrops
into snow globes on windows
reflections of us
late night driving in the rain
drowsy eyes drop into sleep

window cracked, white noise 
lights flickering through the rain
my eyes flutter closed

Trixie My Muse Keeps Me on the Edge of my Seat

her thoughts are mighty and marvelously influential to me.
I call her Trixie, my muse, she is truly the ultimate queen bee.
She won’t leave me alone, she’s like a dog with a hankering for duck.
How do you write so often? Other writers ask. Is it some kind of luck?

It is my muse, she is persnickety, tenacious and she must have her way.
She forces ten poems out of me every single solitary ordinary day.
If I want to sleep, she laughs me awake with a lovely ending line.
We don’t need any more rest she tells me, we will do just fine.

Her insistence and persistence keep me at the edge of my seat.
She wants a pen in my hand so often, I hardly have time to eat.
Trixie is my nemesis, but also my savior, she keeps me wild and free.
You see writing down my feelings is brilliantly therapeutic for me.

From my window seat

“This is a familiar route and one of the most common ones (at least to my seasoned eyes; you may find it beautiful)” — overheard.

______

A day like any other,
but also
a day like no other—

                       She’s losing the threads again.

                       No—she’s finally starting to see.

—A day like any other.

The bus hustled over 
cracked cement in damp air—
a sight scorched 
to the back of my skull.
I sat in my window seat
like it’s a 
reflex—

a voice nudges me in the ribs
break something— it said
—anything, 
just stopping sitting here.

I switched sides
before my brain can question 
if it makes sense.

I let my eyes drink out 
the other window—

A smidge of red—a balloon.
Something navy—a child’s backpack.
A birdless branch wobbles—
My gaze drifts up,
the sun reply with dazzles—

For a second,
everything rhymed.

Before The Seat Was Taken

The room was still when Power knocked—
 not loud, not proud, but sure.
 The Chair sat waiting, velvet-backed,
 untouched, and made to endure.

The walls had yet to learn the weight
 of promises unkept.
 The carpet, clean—untrampled still—
 knew nothing of secrets swept.

The pen was full, the desk was clear,
 the seal uncracked, unswayed.
 The nation watched, and History
 leaned forward, unafraid.

And then—he entered, took a breath,
 sat down without a sound,
 and all the ghosts who’d come to sit
 began to gather ‘round.

In the seat cricle

Every person of us sins.
Day by day doing something bad but getting bumped on events of doing good along getting stitched by pins.

You see, hobbies like doing a Sport helps your brain to better start communicate or even just drinking one of your favorite teas can leave your body warmth stay high.
When a sin comes across again the worst being the lie, 
you are agreeing of the stuff you buy.

That will slowly built up on your back.

When someone does lie, 
it actually does not make the victim cry.

For one minute maybe you made them pry, 
but they will go on like it has been just a try.

While you have them close connected on your heart wramped around it like a tie, 
it is indeed difficult to unwrap, sigh.

Lies leaves you stutter, unsure, guilty, 
that it leads you to leave the people who confronted your lies.

Because of you they might get in danger 
but you still have a heart.
Even seen by a stranger..

Give Me The Ministerial Seat

Give me the ministerial seat
I labored months to breed kings,  
Fingers cramped to feed queens,  
With a long list of wishes to fulfill.  

Give me the ministerial seat 
I wept in secret,  
And smiled with no morsel in my belly.  
I became all— even god.  

Give me the ministerial seat 
I toiled the ground to bear fruit,  
Nourishment I only glimpsed,  
Never tasting its flavorful essence.  

Give me the ministerial seat
I carried their pains and struggles,  
Even on days we fed only on tales,  
Wishing the night would last forever.  

Give me the ministerial seat  
Life is measured in miles,  
But I have walked a lifetime in pain,  
Their faces— my only source of joy.  

Give me the ministerial seat
For I am Woman.

Mother nature’s seat

Tree standing high and tall
Once was short and small
Branches reaching up to the sky
Swaying in the wind’s gentle sigh
Roots digging far and deep
Still with life they sweetly keep
Leaves here but once was gone
Which they crunch a gentle song
Songbird singing in the sun
Bringing peace and simple fun
Grass growing gentle green
Giving comfort with blades so keen
Flowers popping from down under
Beautiful colors bringing wonder
Cloud floating high up above
Carrying nature’s growth and love
Here sits the mother oh so fair
Why is it that this is now so rare

Drones Take a Back Seat Tonight

     Sightings reported all across the globe
     Perhaps a weird, undulating space probe

        First it’s way up in the sky
        Then it dips down to say ‘Hi’

     Scares the bejabbers out of technophobes


  
           { December 24, 2024 }

A seat at the Master's table

Oh what I wouldn't give for a seat at the Masters table
Begging for the crumbs
Yet no one gave her anything 
How do I find the Master's table
To sit at his blessed feet
Oh what sweet release 
The book I'm told is the bread and it is where we are fed
Blessed day at the table of the Lord 
Come and dine the master bids to come
A seat at the Master's table

Back Seat Blues

He bought himself a tandem
In the hope that he would meet
A suitable young lady who’d
Ride on his back seat.
He took it to the Dance Hall
But didn’t stand a chance 
Cycling not seeming to fit in
With ideas of modern romance

He’d offer one a lift and
See her expression slip 
When handed a bike cape
And a pair of cycle clips
Then he had his eureka moment
When he persuaded one to try it
Selling it as essential part of his
New Calorie controlled diet.

The idea rapidly spread 
And much to his surprise 
He managed to turn it into
A very lucrative franchise
He’s a billionaire these days
His happiness complete
As the ladies queue up
To ride on his back seat.

permanent seat

when my days slow down 
prop me up so I can watch 
life still evolving

Knocking on Doors

Knocking on doors, people to meet,
house after house, street after street,
keeping going, day after day,
whatever polls or trolls might say,
there's not much time for resting feet.

Car park selfies, the meet and greet,
sharing stickers and printed sheets,
no time to waste, there’s no delay,
knocking on doors.

Sunshine, showers, rinse then repeat,
change is never an easy feat,
when the future is all in play,
but we’ll turn corners, come what may,
walking, talking, to win this seat,
knocking on doors.

Upon The Seat

My wife said let’s go cycling, we can see some countryside
And we can cycle anywhere, however far and wide
I like the fact that we can cycle, whatever the weather 
And cycle riding is one thing that we can do together 

We set off and as always it was I who led the way
She always said that I should let her take the lead one day 
We took a route she didn’t like and so we had a row
Alas we went our different ways: I travel solo now

I stayed upon my chosen route because good planning pays
I haven’t seen my wife at all since we went separate ways
She rode off on a route that she appeared to choose at random
And I look daft in Lycra… for we’d set out on a tandem.

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