Short Floorboards Poems

Spiders build homes

in marrow. Beneath floorboards

the mice are playing....

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Tanka 
Milk maids and romance 
In the hay of romp and love 
Mules ate the fodder 
Bare floorboards on the hayloft 
But fragrance of love remains....

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Lying in bed under my sheets
Something wakes me from my dreams
C-r-eak
The floorboards speak
Suddenly I can’t breathe
My heart beat beats
CREAK CREAK CREAK
Footsteps closing in on me…


2/8/12...

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#-11
Attic floorboards creak
Something seeks a memory
Sleep and leave it be



#-12
I'm sure there are two
Another cat sneaked inside
My cat helps it hide



Gene Bourne
06-23-14...

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This house has holes in the roof
It rains inside
Flooding the gaps between the floorboards
Tattered shades cover broken windows
Her doors no longer open
A shattered mess
Reflection of the heart it resides in...

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Creaking floorboards whisper she is up.
I move to put the coffee on.
By the mirror in the hall, 
I pause to fix my hair.
I want to look my best for her.
Two seeds, long-planted,
growing comfort, as clocks run down....

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A soft tension in your eyes
And my despair becomes permeable
You help me cling to my horizons
The warm light moving along darkened floorboards
Orbiting crazily
Whirling through your days
Grant me the stillness to keep you near...

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with each passing train 
the house trembles 
aborted dreams

strangers in the night
the creaking floorboards
she cheats on him

wafts of warm
spiced paratha bread
her aroma lingers

- - - - - - - - -
© paul callus...

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Ageless Summery

a porch screen riddled
by fragmenting noon beacons
     ~~grandmas curtain hangs

chairs rock as handheld
fan waves midst squeaking floorboards
     ~~iced tea drinks glisten

2020 June 23

*3rd Place*

Summer Haiku's
~~Tania Kitchin...

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Happy
to know that soon
I will hold in my arms
my three fair faraway daughters,
who are heading home this Xmas season.
My house so quiet without them,
the floorboards creek night tears.
It too will be
happy.



04/12/2019
For  William Kekaula's contest
A Red-Letter Day Rictameter....

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I hear the calls
I hear the calls
I hear the calls
Breathy in those narrow streets
Until they slide under my bedroom door
Sirens in the city lurking quiet in
Corners unseen by sunlight
Where love can be found 
As thick as mud under floorboards
Under my floorboards
Under my floorboards...

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Books stacked in the floorboards,
her breath on polished glass

Together you would drive,
skipping yet another class

Playing hooky in a hand-me-down,
if only it could last

The memory of her fades each day,
like long neglected brass

Thank the Lord for that car,
& pray you don’t forget her laugh...

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When Simon fell asleep on Christmas Eve.  
Dreaming of presents that Santa would leave.
He soon stirred, when his door squeaked.
Open- eyed, as floorboards creaked.
Now he knows Santa, is not make-believe.

    12 / 12 / 2022.
    Sponsor  Tania Kitchin.
    A Funny Santa Limerick Poetry Contest.
    howmanysyllables.com...

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Rotten old floorboards captured their blood 
stolen from the world yet still adored;
Children taken because they could sing 
forgotten but for their sound stained horror;

Held them and tucked innocence away 
felt their rhythm in the house’s cry;
Swelled with the sadness of silence,
beheld the angels of music trapped inside....

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dog-eyed shape of ash
              an owl leaving
              the cool firs;

shadow of shadow;
              floorboards creaking;
              a curtain`s slight dance;

black and white as my own
              standing in frills in a snap
              in front of a Ford Prefect
              with Dad after the war....

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...inspired by October Tune by Joseph Brodsky


A shelf reveals sepia-toned pictures,
floorboards groan with memories 
of ages past and old men creaking,
shadows flicker lightly on the wall.

Hours flow as lava creeps, 
and scattered letters lie forgotten,
dust motes float, their orbits spinning,
shifted by the ghosts of yesteryear....

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i stare at my phone as my arms start to stretch, 
stretching so long that i cannot catch 
my brain, when it starts to pour,
pouring my memories all over the floor.
the floorboards like to creak whenever i’m near, 
nearing their senses for the pouring i fear,
i fear i’m lost, and cannot regain
the noodly arms and thing i call a brain....

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i stare at my phone as my arms start to stretch, 
stretching so long that i cannot catch 
my brain, when it starts to pour,
pouring my memories all over the floor.
the floorboards like to creak whenever i’m near, 
nearing their senses for the pouring i fear,
i fear i’m lost, and cannot regain
the noodly arms and thing i call a brain....

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...inspired by October Tune by Joseph Brodsky


A shelf reveals sepia-toned pictures,
floorboards groan with memories 
of ages past and old men creaking,
shadows flicker lightly on the wall.

Hours flow as lava creeps, 
and scattered letters lie forgotten,
dust motes float, their orbits spinning,
shifted by the ghosts of yesteryear....

Read More

...inspired by 'October Tune' by Joseph Brodsky


A shelf reveals sepia-toned pictures,
floorboards groan with memories 
of ages past and old men creaking,
shadows flicker lightly on the wall.

Hours flow as lava creeps, 
and scattered letters lie forgotten,
dust motes float, their orbits spinning,
shifted by the ghosts of yesteryear....

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Pennants' edges curling up, peeling away from fading walls--
Lions listless, languid, lost ~ Tigers timid, tame, tepid--
Floorboards waxed like glass, nothing strewn, no disarray, no chunks
  of petrified food accusing.

The Choreographer of clutter
The Enabler of entropy
The Maestro of mountainous messes
The Fife and Drumbeat of detritus
  has moved on...

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Sun glistens through the curtains 
plays with the cracks on the walls
a few floating clouds catch my eye.
I stretch out , almost gracefully like a cat.
As my feet touch cold wooden floorboards I grab a cosy blanket 
to wrap myself in,
while tiptoeing to the kitchen to make some tea.
Oh the sweetness of doing nothing 
I thought and I smiled and sipped my tea....

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I awaken to sunbeams 
pushing back the night; 
the day solidifies 
before my eyes, 
ignoring the ticking clock 

ghosts squeak their disapproval 
in faded floorboards, 
paintings sharpen, 
and graceful cats 
pace in the hallway 

stained glass accepts the light, 
and colors crawl along the wall; 
we all shine, 
perhaps reluctantly, 
sitting in the sun...

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I awaken to sunbeams 
pushing back the night; 
the day solidifies 
before my eyes, 
ignoring the ticking clock 

ghosts squeak their disapproval 
in faded floorboards, 
paintings sharpen, 
and graceful cats 
pace in the hallway 

stained glass accepts the light, 
and colors crawl along the wall; 
we all shine, 
perhaps reluctantly, 
sitting in the sun...

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Listen to poem:

*Image of Our 1969 fuel-generated home that replaced the unpowered memento, but later lost to lava in 1990.

a december memento

dark-trimmed christmas tree
leans upon slanted floorboards
in a remote house
excess adorns the lacking
lamp oils empowering eyes

2022 December 07
*4th Place*
A DECEMBER MEMENTO
~~Andrea Dietrich: Judged 2022 December 24

*HMS....

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