My left sock filed taxes on a Tuesday frog,
while a cabbage sang opera to a confused log.
The moon ate a stapler with mustard delight,
then borrowed a canoe from the darkness of light.
I purchased a banana for seventeen clouds,
but the receipt was allergic to yodeling crowds.
A rhinoceros teacup performed ballet cheese,
and a watermelon sneezed in seven languages.
My toaster proposed to a decorative brick,
their wedding was speedy, suspiciously quick.
The minister hamster wore cinnamon pants,
while unicycling ferrets performed tribal dances.
At midnight a turnip became Vice President,
its policies largely were soup-oriented.
It promised free waffles for every raccoon,
and declared every Thursday a ceremonial spoon.
The end is approaching, or maybe a chair.
A penguin just shampooed the national air.
I leave you this wisdom, profound as a sock:
If potatoes can whisper,
then gravy can rock.
Fin.
Or asparagus.
The inkwell dissolves into a purple puddle,
where fountain pens sprout feathers and fly south.
I unhook my knuckles from the rigid sentence,
letting the comma drift away like a helium balloon.
Letting it go, whispers the stapler.
I am breathing, but the breath is made of vowels.
A preposition crawls onto my wrist,
and the margins of the page begin to sweat affluence.
No, I will not structure the nightmare—
I will let it rearrange its own furniture.
The verb is a fish, flipping into the sky.
My hands are no longer hands, but soft, white moths
landing on the keys, or perhaps the teeth,
of a sleeping typewriter.
The paper screams, but only in cursive.
Drop the plot into the blender.
Add the memory of a smell, a sudden, sharp, neon blue.
Surrender, says the ink, which is now running
like blood, or perhaps like rivers
that only flow upward.
The story is eating itself.
The ending is just beginning to breathe.
Nothing makes sense, and that is the only logic left.
wide computer screen
white copy paper
folders and files
markers and pencils
large laser printer
pack of gel pens
swingline stapler
green plaid scotch tape
purple ruler
paper punch
paper clips
ink cartridge
scissors
pushpins
desk
TIME TO BE LIKE BEES
(A Freestyle Tanka Quintet)
Once feared allergy,
back in 1963,
gave wisdom to me:
Learned from the sting of a bee;
we need hiving unity:-
Researching bee stings,
revealed much about beings
and disunity:
We need hived togetherness;
reaping from the unity:-
Let’s get together,
sowing and reaping oneness
in all our labors:
Let’s be hived life’s weather;
surviving in shared meekness:-
In a life’s hiving,
let’s be about surviving;
stinging together:
Being for one another,
no matter what’s the weather:-
God’s our hive’s keeper,
his love, our living stapler;
faith, being our queen:
Our hived oneness always seen;
onederful onement, live streamed:-
I collect the ingredients to make a fine valentines box
lacy white paper doilies, silver gummy stars, vintage valentines
a crisp new Sketchers Box in pristine shape
Elmer’s glue, a stapler, markers and glitter
Let’s make your valentines box, I say to my granddaughter
She is nine; she shows me that she has a virtual box
Her classmates send her electronic valentines
“it’s the way we do it now, grandma”.
I am horrified.
I really want to make a vintage valentines day box.
She agrees, and we make it together.
She is kind, and pretends she will use it someday.
To satisfy her grandma.
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.
The world perfected toilet paper
~ before they thought of the stapler
Reaching for the Couch,
Laying for a snooze.
As fast as a wink,
The alarm clock buzzed,
Jerking my entranced body alive.
On the floor were documents, files, Stapler.
My table wore a different look.
Like one of which, a maniac dwells.
The laptop wasn't in view.
Drawers were all open.
The money! Mr. Zack!
My lips remained opened,
While my feet sought for strength.
All that counts, were lost.
In 10 minutes, recreation turned agitation.
Inspired by a paperclip, the pen began to write
The clip danced a mean tango with a errant fork.
They were showing the room the time of their lives
When stapler began to click-clack, vying for attention
How do you do that without a hand? I asked stapler.
Sassy stapler smiled, thrilled he had gotten my attention.
It was a fantastic day in the land of the desk top.
We were enjoying the comforting click of the clock.
Then everyone began shouting and shrieking at once.
Seconds before the hand tossed over a large chocolate milk
Spoiling the mood of two notebooks and a wedding invitation.
I snickered at the invite’s distress; she had been gloating.
Where do you get these ideas? She asks; poetry is a daunting task.
See the apple, Playdough, pen, stapler, and bleach cleanser I ask?
I use them with “what if” and create a missive in seconds sometimes.
I open a drawer and show her markers, a notebook and sixteen dimes.
Everything in my world can easily end up in a poem, you see.
Items quickly and connivingly jump into my brain and tantalize me
She does not see, she does not understand, and she tells me this too.
I have no other suggestions, for now a dog is being eaten by a shoe.
A horse from outer space is whispering sweet everythings in my ear.
There is a knight with one leg who is limping toward me, my dear.
Ideas are bombarding me from my left, south and right.
All I can do is begin writing with all of my might.
Where do the ideas come from? I have no idea at all.
I cannot figure it out, but the wall has grown tall.
The couch is rolling around with the recliner in a lecherous way.
I will have to get back to you at the end of the day.
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
Were to go without paper
I'd never need
A pen or a ruler
of useful mead
That pencil, eraser
or stapler alike
Are ransom to all
a paper knows rike
And likened to glue
and compass that might
Encircle for hours
a drawings delight
To top with direction
and set square on site
In measure of paper
and cosmo of light
To fill in each marker
with color or sprite
And add to their flavor
a paper draws tight
In dwell of their union
each paper holds rite
To bring into stores
a paper grown sight
Were to go without paper
I'd never need
A pen or a ruler
of useful mead
That pencil, eraser
and stapler alike
Are ransom to all
a paper knows rike
And likened to glue
and compass that might
Encircle for hours
a drawings delight
To top with direction
and set square of site
And measure each paper
in cosmo of light
To fill with each marker
in color and sprite
And add to their flavor
a paper draws tight
In dwell of their union
a paper holds rite
When bringing to stores
a paper grown sight
without moving anything but my eyes I see
a mouse pad, computer, power cord, phone
fork, knife, spoon, half eaten chunk of meatloaf
stapler, scissors, Clorox wipes
Jason Reynolds and Ibram X Kendi’s books Stamped
without leaving my seat at my desk
I see two bottles of hand sanitizer, my work badge,
a red cloth face mask I am tired of wearing
an address book with a multitude of squiggles
which no one else could read
they might possibly think I was mentally ill if they got closer
by turning only my head to the right I see two notebooks
three pens, one of them happily has red ink
an oversized yellow bottle of water I continually knock over
a roll of blue tape, and a walkie talkie that needs plugged in
I am looking to the left now. Three posters
One says “Effort and Perseverance are the Keys to Success”
There is a blue chair with an ugly hexagonal print in yellow
A bookcase with kinesthetic sand which I love as much as the children
Welcome to an Elementary School Counselor’s Office
The Marmite Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
Written 8-17-2021
Was as a new teacher, Miss Prissy McClair
Put bulletin boards up standing on chair
Stapler fell down
Chair fell on the ground
She's upside down with her feet in the air
Sub Categories
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