COMPARTMENTALIZATION
Friends, absolutely believe why
not in the “Loony Bin?
Compartmentalized my stresses,
so messes … not get in!
Compartments help me remember,
one illness at a time.
Must do cause, "nine" problems have, not
about to loose ... my mind!
Compartments, real life savers, now
one job at time, tackle.
Improved old age focus, glad
husband … didn't spackle.
Compartmentalize medications
if don't, embarrassed be.
Took water pills, before party,
oops … in “Depend’s” did pee.
Doc’s now compartmentalize, which
body part they'll inspect.
Last visit showed my sagging boobs,
examine ... was for my neck!
Crucial to compartmentalize, must
do each week heard some say.
Might put off till tomorrow, cause
tomorrows ... another day.
July 31, 2023
Contest: compartmentalization
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
spackle, funny, hilarious, old, silly,
Form: Rhyme
He often thought to himself
that he has been too quickly assembled
that he should have taken more time
for the busy hands of his constructing mind
to fill-in the flaws, smooth-out the cracks,
properly tightened the loosely screwed together
parts of his nature.
He knew he was mind-made; everything is.
Mind is the worker; body, persona, and the world,
all that his perception allowed, were just the works of his mind.
However, it was all so sudden, the impulse to build
an acceptable, semi-functional being was too strong,
in the end it was a rushed job.
Still he had time yet for a do-over.
The mind that had put together all this ‘him’
could paint over, spackle and tighten up
much of the more obvious weakness’s.
He will need to throw away the handbook
he had made to explain himself away,
stop trying so hard to market himself
to other hastily formed beings.
That he need not mend or stitch anymore
just accept that what the mind had made
was only the skin of thought, its superficial workings
and what he was in truth, was always this unadulterated
pre-created and perfectly packaged
God-Send of the Universe.
Categories:
spackle, poetry,
Form: Free verse
He dreams of thin chickens pecking at a dirt floor.
A big brown teapot is stuffed with scraps of poetry;
words waiting to be led out like bawling cattle
into the haze and dust.
As he does every day, he seeks some less worked earth
to plant words into, hopes they will mature into
filler, grout, and spackle to patch up his wormwood.
Mostly they scatter on a dry wind
until night reclaims them.
Categories:
spackle, poetry,
Form: Free verse
March wades in
ankle deep in the melt.
The edges of iron nights rust
turn into pyrite dawns.
Pewter rivers shimmer into silver
fish-tailed coats
as the sunlight rolls down main street
window-shopping.
Of a sudden
nail-bound ribcages loosen,
worn down faces
surface once more like lost coins,
polished a little now and spending smiles.
March is a slow jazz melody
played through a fuzzy neck scarf.
Hands appear shaking fingers
encouraging the early flights
of expansive gestures.
On the roofs of many mouths
voices stretch out
to taste the sweetness of a dripping sky.
The city sweeps itself, in the early light,
puts on a left over makeup,
begins to spackle over
the ice cracked stains of winter.
We quietly celebrate and calculate,
dividing warm days from the chill,
fold away fat reserves
begin to wander into grocery stores
just to marvel at the early ripeness
of greenhouse fruits,
the bright display of plenty to come.
Categories:
spackle, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The Most Precious Of all.
.
With every single gifted heartbeat
And every single taken breath
I worship your very being and presence
With joyous smiling heart
Until I succumb to death
.
Thy colours be more beautiful
Than the most spectacular bejewelled garden
In the smile of a longed for
Enchanted summers day
Thy art the the rarest precious rose
Ever known to be
And take my breath away
.
How I hunger for your love
For I am famished my heart heavy
Thou be so far away
I need thy sweet butterfly kisses
To feed me every day
.
The reasons I love thee
Are as numerous as the diamond stars
That Spackle as thy mesmerizing eyes
My love but a overflowing fountain
And more deeper and more powerful than the sea
.
I give my life my heart and soul
Only to thee
And bathe in thy glory
For all eternity.
.
Peter Dome C 2021.
Categories:
spackle, appreciation, inspirational, love, romantic,
Form: Free verse
Howling and hooting sets the tone for tonight
Alabaster skin shows a child is full of fright
Lover’s lane is as creepy as artery’s spackle.
Laughter distorted as a witch’s cackle.
Omnivorous owls fleeing from Frankenstein
Werewolves and skeletons showing their spine.
Excited warlocks eating eye of newt toast.
Ethereal entities in the form of eerie old ghosts
Necromancy practiced as vampires swoon.
Frenzied entities playing a merry October tune.
Under a harvest moon, ghouls and banshees on the run.
Not for those who have no whimsy or sense of holiday fun.
Categories:
spackle, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Acrostic
He built motels
across America
loving the land so much
he could sleep anywhere
on her
in her
cheaply,
predictably.
Anywhere was home to him.
Home was not special
but same.
Same bars of soap,
same color wrappers.
Same towels.
Same smells almost.
Same views.
Home across
the human spirit
of imaginary states.
Just outside streets
with tree names.
And out of this
I arrived
from love created for each single
completed
square space
spilling forward,
motel to motel,
born by American Motel Woman,
timeless builder,
faceless
with no Kodachrome
to pin down my origin
or capture his passion.
Pick-up truck front seat cradles,
beer for sedative,
K-Mart toys,
all-night pharmacies.
His gift-
I belong anywhere
nowhere,
owe nothing,
know anyone
no one,
am rooted in spackle
drywall
and cheap two-by-fours
and need only decide
which illusions
to put up
and which to take down.
Categories:
spackle, family, father, self,
Form: Free verse
Its not hardship
Its surviving
Its not a journey
Its the way
Its not a tear
Its a spackle in the eye
Its not a yawn
Its waking up
Its not a sorrow
Its a pain
Its not birth
Its productivity
Its not a mistake
Its a lesson
Its not hearing
Its listening
Its not creativity
Its a blessing
Its not a feeling
Its an emotion
Its not a habit
Its a living
Its not the end
Its continues
Categories:
spackle, adventure, art, courage, culture,
Form: Free verse
Third Floor
Reality distraction
staples in the wall of my loneliness
plastered over
to gain permanency
but as a lightweight spackle,
haphazardly poised on the rusty putty knife,
is used to smooth out
the wall
with childlike enjoyment
staples find freedom
flying...
down below someone utters
uninterruptible profanity
Celery
hard times
and they told me those are
the celery sticks cracking
kid
Categories:
spackle, appreciation,
Form: Free verse
Bag of tricks contest sponsored by Linda-Marie
2 tankas 5/7/5/7/7
Concealer
by Doris Culverhouse
Concealer covers
Restless nights, wrinkles and age
Spackle for the face
My bag of tricks will contain
Light and dark sticks for all flaws
Keep those telling flaws
closely covered never let
others see the real
superficial me later
Imperfections are pure
Categories:
spackle, daughter, hope, uplifting,
Form: Tanka
as I get ready to repaint my love
I'm covering all these cracks with spackle
I realize just how many are left
and there may not be enough plaster
I'm gonna use a more vivid color
to repaint this shade of blue
as soon as I figure what shade that is
when love enters and I start anew
Categories:
spackle, introspection
Form: Verse