Short Stacking Poems

Empty bottles of wine

Glass thats shimmering 

Today has gone away

Tomorrow of pain stacking headaches...

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So,
how is
it that my
wife can be so
good at Tetris and
so useless at stacking
everything in the dishwasher?...

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Marshals oh so loud
And massive in their stacking
Make the Rock Stars proud.

deborah burch©2011



Form: senryu

Posted:3/14/2012...

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I can sit alone with minutes
and minutes into hours
stacking them like bricks
and making many towers
so as I sit in towers
and thought’s a mighty wall
there’s depth within those minutes
until the towers fall


...

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(Another way of looking at life... poem)

Stacking bricks in a builder’s yard
I was just eighteen, while my mate
was in Vietnam.
I was building for the future,
he was trying to lay the foundations.

© Harry J Horsman 2020...

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“BAKERSFIELD: 9-17-16”


it’s hot tonight,
the palm trees stand still
and
I’m stacking close to my
one hundredth poem
after my first one hundred
were taken by that
dirty whore.
the color of love dissolves 
into another
and
I can’t complain at the
moment.


By: Chicano Eddie
9-17-2016...

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Presents


     Precious gifts a packing,

     Pretty christmas wrapping,

     Parents busy stacking,

     Presents piled by the tree.

     Parcels for family,

     Placed with love carefully.

     Putting one just for me!

         11/12/16

For Christmas Pleiades Contest
By Andrea Dietrich...

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fall preparations
for cold winter days and nights
chores shared made easier
stacking firewood in the shed
take turns at the cider press

hanging herbs to dry
help pick and can tomatoes
turn the garden plot
clean the chicken house, run...hide!
having more fun than working



...

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Men have become dead souls
Hungry for his own flesh 
Striking bonds
while stacking bones
Relinquishing the second vow to the almighty
Now hallowed
Dried up to the deep
Only hearing the sacred bellowing
Amidst the depth
From scattered scrolls
Meshed together piece by piece
With a call to herald the naughty souls...

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Heaped in the same organic embryo 
Forget the last ditch effort
To choose beyond the pail
Trading thin-ice thoughts
For a politeness to perpetuate 
The flimsy manner of excuse and apology

Your relationship to One
Like the poise of a rising Sun
That same energy to give or take 
Stacking collapsibles or elbowing for some space...

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Stacking Stones

I was here long before you
Stacking the stones
In just the right way
Every one was laid with thought
Always careful not to disrupt the flow
I stacked those stones
But not for me
I was never important
They were meant for you
To give you serenity, peace and hope
That was my wish for you
And all who come after you...

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Boldly striking icy and white
Layering and building piles of snow  
Intensely stacking to block all site  
Zealously covering all with each blow
Zoning in to place the powder left to right
As high winds strengthen to continue this fight
Raging, destroying and yet leaving an ominous glow
Deceiving with the quiet calm of this mighty foe...

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In the PixiS climb to Hydra
Lynx is next just past the Lion
Take a dip into Ursas Major
Come and ride the Leos Minor
It’s a Primer she said…
Reading wheels inside your head
Stacking stones into pyramids
Merry goes round the ecliptic
Latitudes of a Long time cryptic
Marching two and fro…
Is it Zero or is it Nero
Inquiring our minds to know...

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A tiny baby dollhouse doll,
A bunch of dominoes,
A puzzle piece, a stacking cup -
Where are they? No one knows.

The cover to some match-up cards,
The crayons in a box,
Three golf balls from the matching set, 
Assorted Lego blocks.

These items and a dozen more
Are AWOL and I'd bet
That I'm the only person
In the house who seems to fret....

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Removal van's at the White House  
Milania's in a right grouse
Cos Trump lost his job
(She called him a knob)
‘The Donald's’ gone quiet as a mouse

Milania won't have him slacking
and Donald must do his own packing  
For the 'Impeach' faced guy
Can's of orange skin dye 
Trump's tower of boxes is stacking 

01/16/21...

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Just call me Mr. Ruffle,
Because I'm stacking my chips,
One more roll of the dice,

One more lick of your lips,

Just call me Mr. Lucky,
Because I'm supposedly clever,
One more flip of that card,

One more pull of that lever,

Just call me Mr. Broke,
Because I took that last chance,
One more failed attempt,

One more empty pocketed pants....

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Oxtail, beef ribs and 72 slice cheese

take it to Ajima 

And double your money 

Budweiser, Coors, and MGD,

Army says one case a day,

I used to get twenty.

In ‘95 beer was eleven bucks a case

You’d get $25 

For stacking them in Ajima’s place,

But watch out for MPs

Because If you get caught,

Its court-martials And Article 15s 

JEV...

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Just call me Mr. Ruffle,
Because I'm stacking my chips,
One more roll of the dice,

One more lick of your lips,

Just call me Mr. Lucky,
Because I'm supposedly clever,
One more flip of that card,

One more pull of that lever,

Just call me Mr. Broke,
Because I took that last chance,
One more failed attempt,

One more empty pocketed pants.


By Mac...

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Bill Bailey the bagworm
Had more than enough
As bagworms go
He had plenty of stuff

His home was a castle
He’d lined with care
Stacking higher and wider
Than bagworms should dare

But one day Bailey sneezed
And it all tumbled down
Of the proud old bagworm
Nothing was found

But a heap of junk
That was pleasing to see
For all the other bagworms
Who collected with glee...

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…waiting’s knife
slices time in broader swaths
stacking jagged moments
chaffing minutes raw, in existential unease
…one second snags the next
                       …the knife dulls
moments fray and shred
tomorrow folds today; time’s teeth - rounded
memories meld a transcendent balm
deeply rubbed by fading voices

a hospice hallway dims…
one light - grows brighter...

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Summer is ending; we can feel it 
But we pretend we cannot
Slater our corn-on-the-cob with butter
Cutting generous slabs of watermelon
Ignoring the Back-to-School sales flyers stacking up in our box
July is the last hurrah.
The month we celebrate as wildly as we can
Knowing reality will soon set in 
And school will begin 
Because August is peeking her head in July's window....

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He grins beneath those golden locks
And stacks his blocks
And stacks his blocks
With non-stop and incessant talk
He stacks those blocks
And stacks those blocks
And then so he can take a walk
Pulls off his socks
Pulls off his socks
And drives his truck into those blocks
To watch them drop
To watch them drop
With giggling that never stops
He stacks his blocks
And stacks his blocks...

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Light as a feather
Provoked by wind
Chasing bad weather
Again and again

Many things change
Transform and bloom
But she stays the same
A chosen doom

If looks could kill
Nothing would breathe
The tree on the hill's
Leafs would leave

Her skin crawls
At a loving touch
She's stacking walls
With words and such

Her only true love
Hides in her closet
A personal pub
And lips to lock it...

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Messy moody mangled movements mull
     Display dusty distant dream dull
     Prime passionate purpose point
           Jazzy jerky jumps joint
             Seeker stacking soot
             Break boosting boot
               Time tracks toil
                 Sweet spoils
                        Cull




Leon Enriquez
10 November 2015
Singapore


(Note: This poem is a Nonet with Alliteration.)...

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DAD'S TREE HOUSE

When I dream of Santa,
of course, you are he
stacking my presents
under the tree.
Even though I plotted
how I could catch you,
sleep came so sudden
that I never met you.
But as I grew older
those things I forgot.
You wanted my life now,
every dream, every thought.
I laughed, I smiled at you,
but I was not free
for the world was your tree house
where you could hide me.

Janet Marie Bingham...

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