Short Folders Poems

knows why, doesn't what..

                    colleague opens hidden folders
                                  with keyword I shared...

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Accusations and lies
the narcissist with demons inside
Stand on your toes
carry a yoke on your shoulders 
No one must know
Store it away in folders
whilst dying the boulders
Alone she sighs...

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papers folders everywhere
social numbers
paper clips
last years folders
phone numbers
this 
financial aid forms
work receipts
how many more years do I have to be
best friends
with Sallie Mae?

(and Dear God how will he ever pay back the loans?)...

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I
My wife folds the towels.
She is the correct folder
as opposed to me.

                 II
I have learned many
ways of folding towels poorly
over porous years.

                III
The other folders
would not agree about much
except about me....

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Listen to poem:

Origins of Love
David J Walker

Pursue the origins of love
Young lovers of life

A man a wife
	A child

A family filed in 
Familiar folders

The hottest of
hot years

Fade to warm 
The warm fades to cold

And cold 
	Grows old

then older
And before you know

The old fades
To colder...

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Kleenexes
Clorox wipes
A roll of tape
Kitty cat eyes on a pink pencil box
red apple peeks out behind yellow thermos
hand sanitizer
unused pencil sharpener because I forgot I had one
three folders with lesson plans
a marked up notebook
laptop computer
stapler
my desk is on fire with usefulness today...

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D-awn early Thursday
H-as warmed the March second; 
A-iming to thrill her heart, 
L-ight comes from the beacon.
I-t's a beautiful morn, meeting the break of day; 
A-llowing the dusk to fade, without a doubt, without delay.

N-otes, books, folders, and files
A-re the nature of her work; 
Z-eal she has to do her task, a divine duty of being clerk....

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I got lost again
in childlike wonder 
Looked for seashells 
while listening to thunder

The rain it came
soaked me to the core
I paid it no mind
while exploring the shore

I removed my clothes 
too wet to wear
Laughed and skipped
danced without a care

The troubles of the world
slipped from my shoulders 
My adult responsibilities 
and mountain of folders

On a secluded beach
with childlike glee
I discovered the essence 
of who I used to be....

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Social Media, a much maligned platform 
Neither incites nor recites cretin creeds to form and inform
Cultures and futures steeped in heaps of disorder
Which account holders in their folders call to order
To invent and reinvent possibilities so vile
They invite unfair criticism and cynicism imbued with bile.
Account holders on social media bear their fair share of responsibility
For actions and distractions they inject and project into social media versatility....

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A “PAPA” coffee cup
Not quite as old as
Those who gave it to me.
An old metal stapler,
Part fastener, part weapon.
27 pencils which
Can never be found when needed.
Notes, scribbled cursive
The hieroglyphics of the elderly.
A seven and one half pound,
Dust covered, Dictionary/Thesaurus
A Poetry for Dummies manual
A collection of “mystery folders”
That I am afraid to open
An heirloom collection
Of paper clips
The scent of bacon
And pancakes….
Gotta go....

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A copy of the poem " A Drawer of a Decent Soul" that she practices
A copy of the poem " A Drawer of a Decent Man" that she utulizes
A stapler to hold together things with all her power and strength
One remote control to a robot with three hands since two is not enough
One tube of muscle cream for her back for carrying many extra loads
Three folders filled with creative ideas to help provide for the family
One alarm clock set in intervals to make sure her tasks are complete...

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