We have enough stuff to make dinner for anxiety.
All of the empty fixings we raise our laughter to.
He comes over once a month, every two weeks, once a week.
Settles down like tile patterns in the kitchen.
Anxiety has wit and is not scarce.
Blooms of stocking stuffers when it’s not even Christmas are deadly.
Maybe I’m brave enough to be spilled all over.
I have anxiety in my twitchy scalp.
We really do have enough for dinner.
The steam from the boiling pot is withering.
We are fertilizer
We are manure
Vote for our party
We’re the ultimate cure
We’ll best the bloviators
and all the chest-puffers
No one will mess with our
brown-fingered ballot-box stuffers
We are fertilizer
We are manure
Our 'shovel-ready' campaign
Wins the next election for sure
Pity the Poor Octopus
The octopus is a curious creature
With eight long tentacles his most outstanding feature.
But because of his oddly shaped cephalopod bod,
He's not one of those who looks stylish in clothes,
For his head's much too big to put a hat upon.
And like the squid and the manta,
He could never play Santa,
'cause he has no lap to be sat upon.
Christmas Q and A:
Q: What's a favorite Christmas holiday entertainment for many domineering women?
A: "The Nutcracker"
Q: Why is it better to give at Christmas than to receive?
A: it might be tax deductible.
Q: What would the Sugar Plum one be if she had a bad case of hypertrichosis?
A: A very hairy fairy.
Merry Christmas Poetry Soup!
I'm spending my vacation in my little room.
Didn't plan it that way.
My loves suddenly decided not to work with me.
Must be the Xmas blues.
I'm living off stocking stuffers, Designer coffee
Pistachios and a Jupiter-sized bag of m&ms.
This situation is necessary for now, but unsustainable.
I'm also binging on documentaries.
About self-absorbed souls trying to gain a foothold.
Find their nest in the muck and mayhem of living.
Catching curveballs with unmasked faces.
Stitching themselves up with the devil's thread.
Branding the world with their flavor of selfishness.
Climbing skyscrapers only to become one with sediment.
I'm not nearly as screwed in the head as them.
Man is God in seed
God is Love and peace
Definitions are shallow in deed
Pure essence silloutes the body of belief
Dancing endless in Cosmic relief
Mind strangles and boasts
the Ego wrapped tights like Christmas buzzards
Why pose a Muslim to a Jew to an independent version
All language is a game
Stockings, and stuffers, and thin whispy smoke
The brain archaically layered
Spinning neurons to bodies in motion
The whole earth churning discrete destiny
Red socks canvassing
Frosted mantel rosy hue
Blue lights masquerade
Stuffers peak above the white trim
Brown, blue eyes recconoiter
Christmas Stocking's Tribute contest
Stephen Parker
Written: 12/01/2011
Low wage-slave she suffers
buffoons and jeans stuffers
checking her out at check out.
Though well educated
her love life was fated
to doom for she wed a lout.
So she smiles at the jerks
all lined up where she works
then writes poems to get it out.
Car carcasses
White lines
Marches of dignity
And frozen hearts
A rational upkeep-
A decision to be made
Exclamations on the phone
A process of quantity
The march continues
At mach pace
Mcdonald’s run-ins
Plastics and suffocated meat
Caffeine expressions
And salty ham fists
A shopping carts delight
Fill the banks and the books
The receipt processor talks
We cannot utter
Pleasant geometric configurations
Jewelry stands and wallet stuffers
Luminescent signs
Less cost, more quantity
Overwhelming deals
Furniture and fixtures
Someone coughs in line
Cashier sputtering salacious hellos
A ringing receipt on a nice day
Homesteads filled
The deal continues
Fresh jackets and shiny emblems
To announce
To announce
We were here
In skeleton and footsteps
We got a good deal
Prices less than before
It was a Tuesday
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.