Stapler Poems | Examples

TIME TO BE LIKE BEES

       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:-

making a vintage Valentines Day Box

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.

An Unfinished List

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.

Ouch Prevention

The world perfected toilet paper
                               ~ before they thought of the stapler

Fallen Asleep

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.

Prissy Wedding Invite Gets a Schooling

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 Your Ideas

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.

My Desk

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

Paper Second Version

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

Paper

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

From My Desk I See

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

Novice Teacher Mistake

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

Meeting Odd Little Alien Guy

He is an odd little guy; looks distorted.
Having no fear, I approach him.
We speak through telepathy, not words.
He tells me time travelled from B.C.

How does he know that? I wonder.
He laughs, and I smile. He is an alien, but harmless.
Terrified of cars, dogs, sirens, and street lights.
I wonder what will not terrify him.

Central Park is okay until it gets busy.
He is scared of the fast-moving joggers,
and the old people on park benches.
They did not have old people in B.C. I guess.

I take him to my apartment where he is frightened of
TV, computer, the mixer, a stapler, and almost everything else.
I get him a fuzzy blanket and let him have a little nap.
He teleports during the nap, relieving us both.

Micromanaging

Micro-managing her employees is what she does best.
Showing them how to use a spatula, stapler and scissors
Assuming they cannot pour water into a sink without her supervision
The employees have their resumes out in all directions
And her uncle who hired her has no idea of he is losing his company
For after she became the boss he retired to the beach
Having no idea what nepotism has done

My Best Kept Secret

I have a small secret love in my life, 
A marriage I love to do,
It’s when I use the stapler, 
Making one grouped sheet from two.

The heavy duty mechanical,
The straight, to big, to small,
I love the crunch of bending steel, 
The papered wedding, I love it all.

And at special times there’s 5 sheets or more, 
A bunch to join as one.
Then, when the pile of paper’s so big, 
I use the electric staple gun.

My small secret I keep so quiet, 
I never want to create a scene.
I just quietly work my job, 9 to 5, 
With the photocopy machine.

Written 15th March 2017 on a whim for John Lawless' contest

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