Short Finders Poems

old age is wonderful
I get to fumble around my apartment and find things 
I never saw before...

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the land of the free
     except for that ovary~
     a ten thousand dollar finders fee



***...

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My mom
called it,
her treasured keepsake,
of that, I remember.
A game
we played,
called finders keepers,
that too, I remember.
Though not
a game,
friends keep a secret,
times, I can't remember.
Game of
Life, those
friends ... keeping closer,
enemies ... remember....

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Hey! How come you're using my Banderella cook?
                      It's mine now. I found him in my wife Liza’s nook
                                           Finders keepers,
                                           Losers weepers.
                   Use tenterhooks and cook your fatty goose in  gook....

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Through Teeth Trying To Be Lying

Through teeth they do like to be lying,
And none of this have we been buying;
Small finders extend;
Trump will offend;
Soldiers are injured and some dying.

How does DOD, Pentagon and Treasury
Department taking all of this anyway,
I often will wonder and do pray About
right things they should say?

Jim Horn...

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A Place To Relive

Spaces are berated
People are finders and keepers
Interestingly there is always a place to relive
Whether in your heart or the memories
Just make them count
For you are the maker of what makes you feel free
A place to relive is where we all find solace
And I find it in the times of everyday inspiration

By Asangalisah A. Isaiah...

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~

He was mine.


Unbeknownst to the man, he was mine

He had found me,

And I go by the ironic phrase "finders keepers, losers weepers"

So he was mine

A glistening drop escapes my eye,

Shocked,

I quickly blink..and the moment is gone.


I wasn't quite sure,

Was this lonely tear a result of joy, relief, sadness?


Or was it just my imagination running wild....

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Her smiling face,
As a cardinal Bird,
Sings in my mind,
To develop new craft images,
To appear in my sleep,
Becoming a sweet dream.

Her smiling lips,
A melanic melody,
To melt away memories,
To mend one’s pace,
A mental arithmetic,
To find one’s bearings.

Her smiling eyes,
To put one’s finger on,
To get someone’s down
To a fine art, a fire bucket,
Finders’ keepers,
To find to the finish....

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These poets never  dismiss you!
They always cheer you on.  

You won' find then as fault finders.
Or to embarass you in public with 
blatant reminders.

Nor show off how smart they are.
Those are not poets,,more like Tesla cars.

Friends know "the other" is very invaluable.
The long term friendships at Poetry Soup?
Most blessed, and poetically incalculable,


                5/1/2021
                   ~3~...

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There once was a market named "Finders"
The irony of this is a 'stoundin'
A sign advertizes lost and found objects
Follow the arrow to "The Finders Market"
But... the arrow points down
The market cannot be found

The lost and found are hidden now...
at "The Finders Market"


April 7, 2018


A poem about a fictitious market that is hidden and that contains the following words:

market, hidden, sign, arrow, irony...

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Lost dolls get rediscovered
Un-lost, re-loved, delight
They are really just waiting
For another time that's right

Their beauty doesn't fade
No loss of appeal or glory
They are just biding their time
Until they start another story

Though fashions change
This doll is not going out of style
For beauty that's enchanting
Continues to beguile

The loser of the doll
Might be full of sad regret
Unfortunately it's finders keepers
A lesson never to forget...

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Round  and round the clock
Seconds,minutes,hours,days,weeks,months
Years,decades,centuries,name it!
Breaths are countless, thoughts are hopeless
Seekers are all over
Finders are found
Discoveries are discovered
Un born babies  are born
Responsibilities are made
There after the changes are made
As time can be spent so is time erased
The invisible is never visible
For the immortals are endless
Same as my work
Same as love
Same as the most high

Roseline olajide...

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33.
Are dreams a rehearsal for death’s long sleep?
I am walking backwards into this fog--
Coolness is touched but not felt
My perception setting is muggy.

The seekers so often do not become finders,
But in the mist the hope is to connect again
To another transparent soul
In this haze of pre-curtain heaven.

But illusions are fragmented glimpses,
In my movie-making nocturne.
Floating above all the giggles in the shadows
Becomes crowded sunshine pools of pleasure....

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