Suitcase Poems - Poems about Suitcase

A train to Busan, a zombie-filled ride, Had passengers screaming, nowhere to hide. They'd bash and they'd brawl, Against creatures that crawl, Then tripped on a suitcase, with nowhere inside. ©bfa032125 (Train To Busan)...

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Empty suitcase in the hall Beckoning her to freedom But where will she choose to go Now the doors are wide open Lucky as the black cat is It envelopes her with fear To liberate these shackles Leaves her bereft and broken The black cat sauntered swiftly To the paradise beyond Left behind a grieving wife Emancipation unknown...

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It took a week for me to pack, For, wracked with indecision, I wanted to be sure each day I’d have the right provision. The pants, the skirts, Capris and tops, The sandals, dresses, make-up, The jewelry and lotions, All prepared for every wake-up. I’d zipped it up, ensuring that I’d covered all the bases And checked it in where it was stacked With all...

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There it was, just tossed aside. The old suitcase No more wanted or needed. But left. In the dust and dirt On the attic floor. Remaining unopened for Many years. It held the memories, of years gone by. Lost loves, Trips long taken, Some good, Some bad. Trips taken, Business or pleasure. Car or train, Bus or plane. The old suitcase, Waiting to be packed And repacked. Just waiting. One mile...

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Every morning, when I walk under my cherry trees, There is soothing breeze which awakens my senses, The flash back of life events roll before my eyes, I am sent in soul searching and search for the meaning of life, Long ago, I came to USA with a suitcase full of clothes, A few dollars which government allowed, lasted only...

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Where is Daddy going with that big suitcase Mummy Is he going to the shops To buy you the biggest bunch of flowers and box of chocs And hopefully when he is there get me a lucky packet and a Barbie Because I heard you both having a monumental blazing row Never you mind my pretty little head my Angel My most precious above...

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My heart is an empty suitcase That I store in the attic It waits for me to fill it with all the things I need to leave. One time I took it down overhead stepping on the stepladder down to the hall to my closet, And filled it with carefully folded shirts and pants and good looking things Thinking...

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I have tasted new lands as I’ve traveled this Earth, would leave prejudice (often) with dust shoes pick up. No, not loam like the Dust Bowl knew (God knows our shame), the clear-cutting of forests, Paul Bunyan (with Blue Ox named ‘Babe)’ (1) tried to trade! ‘Whites’ own much of the blame, though for rape of the planet, dark thoughts...

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you will never know where you forget it or lose it, the night is an overstuffed suitcase that you never know when it will open wild, i saw you walking, even more, i touched you a little with my elbow everywhere on the platform it opened like the mouth of a boa constrictor, i see me running with a red ribbon in...

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A suitcase lies here haunted by incomplete trips, I ache for a plane....

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I nearly did not answer the door, for I did not recognize the man. But my peek hole is pretty good. As he turned to leave I spotted Peggy’s suitcase. I ran out there screaming for him to stop. He had no idea what he was holding. Apologized for bothering me. Asked if Peggy Whitmire lived here. She used to,...

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suitcase in hand essentials packed dreams and ambitions AP: Honorable Mention 2021 Posted on February 27, 2021...

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So my son is knocking up The alphabet at the worktable He's onto the letter 'j' (Should it have a hat or not?) "Downward stroke, with a curl, Then stab his face." He's onto the letter 't' (The Romans pronounced it 'tay') "Downward stroke, then slap Him across the mug." The ancients kept reversing and Rotating them I do the same with my son And as he's tucked...

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LIFE IN A SUITCASE Crawling in the loft today, I found the suitcase. Through a cobweb curtain, beneath a patina of dust It lay. Just where it’s lain for twenty years, full of memories of early days. The suitcase. The rusting lock resisted but eventually succumbed. I tentatively raised the led.. And there, on top, the baby book, pages edged in blue, Lovingly...

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til death do us part still breathing with a suitcase another lie...

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