Short Tacked Poems

Poem
 is a patchwork quilt
tacked up with emotions
with words, oddments sublimely
selected......

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stockpile 
within the 
storehouse 
of the mind 
of emotional
supplies 
a range of 
tricks used 
as a reserve 
for when things 
go a stray in order 
to keep composure 
in tacked...

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The tiny house is tucked away
deep within the woods

The tiny house has lost its footing 
and so a faded sign
is tacked to the tiny house's frame:
    'DANGER'

I guess that's why
the tiny house
is painted red....

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Tacked in six syllables
Thrilled with five rhythmic calls
Triangular in form
Takes doubled shape-like cone
Tuned in fine symmetry
Tops the poet’s forte
This pleiades replays.


Jan 24,2022    11.32am


6 syllables per line




Write About a Form
Contest Judged:  2/19/2022 3:23:00 PM
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Place 2...

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Agrarian....agriculture
wet and dry affecting bolster
basic grain pre-market commodity
dispersal targets rift uncommonly

Feedstock fodder higher priced
milk,egg,cheese will future thrice
upkeep livestock feel the strain
lack of grain...we'll all feel the pain

Corn,wheat,rice and soybean
hot potato money machine
pass the buck absorb the cost
surcharge tacked as all not lost...

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PLEASE UNDERSTAND ME
When I say
I feel trapped in my mind
Like if I signed
A contract
To not be in tacked
And to feel pain
So, it can drive me insane
I'm lost
But what's the cost
To get out
Please understand me
When I say
I want to be understood
But mom just couldn't
I feel alone
And gone
Why is that
Please understand me
When I say
I want to be noticed
But me copin
To feel better
Before I become a killer
Of my own mind...

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I sit here
and I ponder.
I wonder in my mind.
I think a second,
I look around.
Then
I get up and walk.
I walk in my mind
happiness now,
seems hard to find.
Memories,
in picture frames.
Some polished
Some cracked. 
All the loved ones
that I’ve lost
are tacked upon the walls.
The walls that seem so endless
in my mind
might not be
walls at all.
I sit here 
and I ponder.
I wonder in my mind.
I think a second
I look around
Then,
I open my eyes.
...

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Looking at our picture
I can see it now
in your eyes,

the torment of what you've done
the horror of the pain you caused
but in the picture I'm smiling

I do not know it yet
my heart is still in tacked 
our love flowing through me
So ignorant of the future

Looking at our picture
I miss that girl so free from pain
un-knowing of what's to come
Trusting with her whole being

Looking at our picture
that girl is me 
but i am no longer that girl...

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DOG WATCH



Dog walking askew in front of me 
Musta  read a sailing manual.
Listed to starboard about ten degrees
Against the taut leash on his port quarter.
Rudder seemed jammed  30 degrees to port:
And he tacked into the footpath ahead.

..............................................................


Other poems of mine, similar to  this, are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2016...

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