Short Occupant Poems

Spider webs frozen
Ice laden lair
Missing occupant
Silken ropes bare
Disappear quickly
An invisible snare...

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The room is occupied
Because someone is doing
Their occupation
They are the occupant
When they talk about occupancy...

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So unsettled so much turbulence
Dark clouds fly across the skies
The boat rocks from side to side
The solo occupant grabbing for life

now sailing on into calmer seas
Skies blue and sun shines bright...

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the gravediggers crest
two crossed scraping shovels
lifelong employment

they dig a large hole
occupant won’t see their work
yet pays final bill

Contest sponsor John Lawler
A Scraping of Shovels Poetry Contest


3/12/19...

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  A baseball glove lies on its back
  in a trunk of items
  once fresh and youthful
  now discarded for
  love and marriage
  perhaps a stroller
  whose blue-eyed
  blue-bootied
  occupant will
  himself!
  soon be
  the proud owner
  of his first glove
...

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I wish I could scrumerge your  vista
hurt your emotional calibre
pique your errant sojourn
Run counter to your plans
Turn off your sunshine tap
Un mistletoe your golden spleen
accommodate you in a cave
the sole occupant
adamantly theoretical unconversationalist
to echo alone

...

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 A coffin has six sides
A casket only four
When passing to the other side
Who's counting anymore

It's no longer a matter of how much...
No longer a matter of rich or poor
It's occupant feels not the satin touch
It's forever and finally naught but a box

...Just a box and no more...
...

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Into the damp room things creep.
So, in it no one should sleep,
Young girls asked to do so weep,
Ruth awake all night: scared heap,
Thrice did fearfully leap,
A better room: an open jeep.

Into the vileroeom snakes slid:
Two short black ones there soon hid!
You don't ask "what inmate did."
Won't you room farewell bid?...

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When will it happen that
in an assemblage of
two or three computers,
in a house wired badly
by a drunken electrician
twenty years before, a
steady wave pulse emerges
between the dishwasher, 
and the espresso machine 
and connects to the shorted
out garage door opener that
a persona will appear and
announce to the startled
occupant of the house,
"I am here"...

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is it the wave kissing the sand 
or is it the ocean
- deep from her heart
sometimes gently,
often hard,
but always with passion?

is it the sand kissing back
or is it the land
- happily losing ground 
with every kiss
to his eternal mistress,
the occupant of his soul?

is it this poem touching your heart
or is it our souls
- hugging each other
on a sandy beach,
wide and infinite,
day in and day out?...

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I know now, what it's like
To feel deep Love and deep Sorrow.
To know that, some things will remain Forever unsaid.
Perfect memories, Only in your mind
Shared with One that is no longer on this Earth.

The long walk, like a flash-bulb image in my mind,
To a wooden bed with a ghastly occupant.
My hands shook as I placed a gift on your chest.

I felt there was nothing more could give you,
You took so much, already.
Goodbye....

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It's out of control
My heart is
The feeling inside
Is like the ferocious oceans ripple
Caused by storms from angry gods

The voice like tunes from a harp
Has turned to melodies of pain and sorrow
My soul is sailing through the ocean of tears
For the beginning of our end seems near

Loneliness has knocked me off my feet
I'm the only occupant to loves seat
I feel in my veins it's over
The end of us a lucid dream
    ...Stranja......

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The sky was infused with an abnormal moon 
It was so large showing off a great white light
The whiteness carries on causing one to swoon
Casting dark shadows off the trees in the night
There is a white candle in an upstairs room
That illuminates the bristles of a broom
Somewhere the occupant loves to fly on by
Leaves a blazing white trail within the night sky

Russell Sivey

Entrant into Anthony Slauson's "Whiteness" contest

10/4/2012...

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It was there when a serous sea
Spewed out its only occupant
Through a very narrow fleshy
Cave into a harsh world of light.
It sojourned during the long days
Of never-ending crying pleas,
Assuming only a bright smile
Throughout it all uncomplaining.
It witnessed the sound of three words
Coochie, Coochie coo vocalized
While the alien, helpless, squirmed
Under ten soft probing fingers.
It was present when the first two
Steps teetered into outstretched arms....

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the found map led me to an
asymmetrical doorway, created by an artesian
I wondered at the builder as I approached
the boards were placed diagonally
skillset many carpenters have not mastered
I knew now I was dealing with a professional
the knocker was a bit off-kilter, which amused me.
the brickwork looked a bit random also.
who created this wall? This door?
the paint was not fresh, there were bits of ivy.
A quaint shabby chic look.
I could not wait to meet the occupant....

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(30/09/2011)

Logic isn’t that important
I’m right! -As a proved defendant-
From jails occupant to humanity servant 

After days I had absorbed black steam of others’ fleshes
I got crashed by an angel, then refreshed
Certainly been in a wrong track
But God allowed me to weave my life back

All could change your way to many of pathways
But only one person grace, 
Whose face been waiting to gaze
And whose love you’ve been dreaming to embrace
To guide you back to truth from crazy craze...

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