Short Bedrooms Poems

lightning bugs flicker 
illuminating dark sky 
and children's bedrooms...

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Eight bedrooms simply can’t be beat
    until the kids can’t handle the heat....

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wet butterflies play
dragonflies and bees hover ---
bedrooms are visited 


18 July 2023...

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Garages, attics and living rooms
are used as bedrooms by brides and grooms.

Volodymyr Knyr
2017...

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Urban peasant is poor.
He rears only a cat, a dog,
in bedrooms and lounge,
the things he cannot eat!...

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some bedrooms
are boardrooms where 
mouths mutually write
cases in black books
from evening till morn...

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Man-cave said to She-shed,
"Here's a thought, why don't we build
an actual house to live in together?"

She-shed queried,
"separate bedrooms, restrooms,
office and work-out space?"

Man-cave: "Naturally."...

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My mother sits at the kitchen table,
smoking slowly and thoughtfully,
the TV too loud.
Those first years we had bedrooms 
we never slept in.
I had nightmares
and she preferred the ledge,
the midnight trains,
just outside her window....

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I open the door
to one of our guest bedrooms
and find her nearly asleep . . .

she who long ago
tucked me into bed each night
when I was such a small child.

Tonight it is I
who lean down to kiss the face
of a precious little girl....

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Falsehood is shy truth
he hides when the sun shines
whispers gently in moonshine
runs away from smart guests
peeps up sleeves in discussion
lives in cupboard in boardrooms
hangs in the roofs courts
dances and celebrates in dark
comes out in bedrooms
shouts when victims departs...

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True wife does not love
but  is practically loved
she is loyal and caring
but not in mechanical way
her man is her best pride
rarely named names
her waist carries secrets
whispered when together
when the sun is asleep
and only ghosts linger
to pick confidential things
from roofs of bedrooms...

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Glow, flood pours the town.
Thunder is rumbling.
A girl drenched with rain.
The friends locked all doors.
saddest end, death looms
friends restful bedrooms.


3st place win

Tableau 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Photo chosen: 6
Date written: 03/27/2021...

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The drive from the airport
took us two days.
We had to sample each other
in bedrooms and showers,
in hot-tubs, in the frilled thrill
of paid for rooms.
Later, we did it in the car like kids.
This Valentine’s Day
there will be a different kind of passion,
a love of wine and warm sheets,
chocolates and
old movies....

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Dream Home

I do not dream of a mansion
Not fifty bedrooms
Not with baths and toilets en-suite; 
I do not desire a Jacuzzi in every room
Not a penthouse for ‘Yours Truly’ and
A playroom for even the pet dog.
All I ask for is, a house to ‘house’ my HOME, and, welcoming smiles on faces all around me - after a hard day’s job....

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It is the morning of the rain.

A misty Seurat haze
soothes eyes toward turning
vast distances apart.

Hands puzzle empty goblets,
ball-point table cloths.

Strangers pose
in silent bedrooms
near the rainbow of gasoline
weathered faint by somber rain.

Morning paints
its dim impressions,
serrates edges, swirls clouds
as rain rolls back
its dead man's eyes....

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THE TEACHER AND THE FOUNDLING


Dirty raw face
Lost in a vicious
Dog-eat-dog world ,
His tears washed rivulets
Into my chalky hand .

Dissolving into
My soft inner soul ,
He sensed mother
And clung to the skirts
Of my conscience.

My  home’s warm respite ,
Another world of gentle feeling ;
Before the return to darkness
And bruised cold fingers
In beer bottle bedrooms ....

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I saw you again yesterday
Our eyes met, you looked away

I remember the songs you used to sing
As I sit here and wonder if my phone will ring

Now I'm picking a glass of lilac blooms
You planted for me, back when we shared bedrooms

It's been oh so long ago...
But time stands still, as you say hello

The sound of your voice makes me quiver
 May the lilacs stay in bloom forever....

©Donna Jones...

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Everybody likes flowers right,
Except children who were violated in bedrooms with flowered wallpaper.
Oh.
 
Everyone loves faeries right?
Except a sensitive young twelve-year-old boy who was called one.
Right.
 
Everyone likes to nap, right?
Have you ever met a two-year old?
 
Everyone is the craziest word ever.
It should be eliminated.
 
Unless you are speaking of air, water, and food....

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Depression is a Nomad wanderer, searching for a hope to break
In that place of heartless, smoke-filled rot where even laughter proves to fake.

The Darkness is a bold intruder, a critique of one's existence, 
And hides in places, corners of gloom, an outcast from soul's resistance.

In the Café of Apathy, the face of dejection reappears, 
Taking up cudgel in bedrooms and bars, traveling through streets of tears....

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A Sonnet begets life.
     Joy, her child, leaves her womb,
     bliss that transcends the tomb
and dulls the Reaper's scythe!
Ah! Joy belittles strife;
     delight, as from bedrooms
     (without impassive gloom),
makes mother of a wife.
When bards compose, ardent
     wax the virgin Sonnets
with their pens: eloquent
     the more, beauty begets
desire; then makes pregnant
     with Joy which ne'er forfeits....

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Three bedrooms,
The first one, ours.
The other two
Belong to others.

Three bedrooms,
The long, hot showers.
You keep me lit;
You're my greatest lover.

Three bedrooms
I wish were ours,
But the other two
Belong to others.

Three bedrooms,
The really cool kind,
Too bad we're not
The only ones in our lives.

Three bedrooms
Two of which we never use
The way  want.
I should be able to scream making love....

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GIVER OF LIFE


Her damp books in boxes,
Lovingly dried and pressed
At home on new shelves

Survivor sparrow
One-legged  from cat attack,
Nurtured in a shoe box with crumbs.

Pensioner hamster
Superfluous to school pet-needs,
Straw-warmed in the garage.

Kids from  beer-bottle bedrooms
On the periphery of love,
Made central again.


A homeless home where misfits fit.
Where she laughs lightly,
New life is breathed....

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what happens to those words we say
that speak in silence when we pray?

do they remain inside our head
to die with us when we are dead?

or do they echo off the walls
of bedrooms, churches, schools and halls

to fall upon the silent ground
and lie unheard and lost 'til found?

or do they find those cracks of light
that shine despite the darkest night

and reach out to that world above
to talk to those we miss and love?...

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In the stage of the night,
Many dreams aren’t real;
On wee hours I fly,
Just to find other deals.
My mind goes to the clouds,
Body sits in some planets;
And the sea shore is mine,
When the passion’s started.
Shining bedrooms are glowing,
With the magic around;
Many beings have desires,
Mixing lips, kissing mine.
In the stage of the night,
Sex and love are coworkers;
They are fantasy and vibe,
Bringing forth light and pleasures....

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The drive from the airport
took us two days.
We had to sample each other
in bedrooms and showers,
in hot-tubs, in the frilled thrill
of paid for rooms.

Weeks later we did it in the car
on the way to some forgotten place.
It was awkward, I had misremembered
how a car can restrict.
We hastily gathered ourselves
lest the young show up
with cell phones.

Little lambs we were,
and sheep do not grow old,
except in the light of day....

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