Knock-knock, hello ma'am! Take a look at this shine,
a brand-new skillet to make your dinner divine.
I see you’ve been working and slaving all day,
with pots that turn gravy, charcoal and gray.
But look at this surface, so sleek and so smooth,
designed for your kitchen, with patterns that soothe.
No butter, no grease, and no scrubbing the sink,
it cooks up a steak as quick as a wink.
Your eggs will slide out like a puck on the ice,
your hubby will swear, the chicken tastes nice.
It's forged out of steel that was meant for a jet,
the sturdiest tool that a woman can get.
So toss out that iron that weighs down your wrist,
an offer like this is too good to be missed.
Just sign on the line and I’ll hand you the best,
and give your old cook stove a much-needed rest.
I broke the law of gravity the other day.
I got fed up then went outside and flew away.
Now all the science teachers have to have their say:
“Toss the man in jail! He did not obey!”
Yes, entropy’s still got a hold on me.
The mystery that breaks the heart.
Yes, entropy is everywhere, you see.
Someday we’re all going to fall apart.
There’s many in this world who will just hold you down.
Who’ll lift you just to throw you back down to the ground.
Whose smile will grow the wider every time you frown.
“Break the man before his wings can be found!”
Yes, entropy’s still got a hold on me.
The mystery that breaks the heart.
Yes, entropy is everywhere, you see.
Someday we’re all going to fall apart.
So now I fear to move, I am too scared to fly.
Too many people told me that I shouldn’t try.
They toss out laws and rules that one cannot defy.
And never ever give a reason why.
Yes, entropy’s still got a hold on me.
The mystery that breaks the heart.
Yes, entropy is everywhere, you see.
Someday we’re all going to fall apart.
ERASE me from your memory.
DELETE the messages sent.
TOSS OUT my things,
THROW AWAY this life,
DITCH me at dawn, leaving me to the shadows.
BURN my pictures,
BURY the frames,
RID yourself of me-
Sealing me in the vault of your subconscious.
SUFFOCATE myself to sleep,
DRIFT AWAY into the NIGHTMARES
transforming into unsung lullabies.
WILTED while alive,
LIVING while dead,
a magician's box without illusions, only silence-
ABRA cadavers into this soul.
Fish swim in water
while drowning in our air.
Toxic people, nuclear hearts that leak poison.
Death comes swiftly,
quietly in the night.
Me To You To Me.
A heart of such gold
it outshines the sun.
Of singular beauty
there must be but one.
A luminous presence
that makes the heart beat.
Lighting the darkness
a once hopeless feat.
Desires imagined
long left behind,
flawlessly kindred,
two of a kind
A door never opened.
None holding the key.
enchanting the mind
spectacularly.
Kindness abundant.
As smart as is wise,
leveling worlds
without a disguise.
Resilience & courage
encompass the core,
raising the spirit
as none gone before.
Is this but a dream
of many made fool?
Which will it be,
exception or rule?
Emotions made ice
since long long ago.
Refusing to melt,
this all that I know.
Convinced in my self
I no longer care.
What nothing could be
if not do I dare?
So I'll play the joker,
and toss out a rope.
For it's truly the fool
that's given up hope.
Whatever the outcome.
However the end.
If not be their more,
forever a friend.
12am, alone in my room
crying.
shaking.
just wondering—
what made you do it?
why did you hide her?
why did you lie and tell me
everything was “fine”
you said you loved me
maybe you only loved having a toy
something you could use
then toss out
maybe i didn’t mean anything to you
maybe i wasn’t ever anything.
Some days you need to play with color,
dig out a dynamic metaphor;
A crotch hoarder with a smart mouth
who flashed his pinky finger at you?
Bollywonkers are so bitingly rude.
Locked in with that rhetoric squeezer.
Sew up your lip, sort out your tirade.
Waste of energy you don’t make sense.
Sports car driving by splashes water
making a mess of your brand new clothes;
Tippiefleas see nothing but themselves.
Some days you need to play with color,
dig out a dynamic metaphor;
That’s when you toss out a high end swear.
But if you want to go back to basics?
Just give them a good ‘F**k off’.
I throw away this
I toss out that
my room an abyss
the piles so fat
if this was a crime scene
the police would cry
murder would escape
with barely a try
I wish they made tiny earmuffs.
They never stop
Dawn to dusk
Chirping, cheeping, cawing,
Chattering in the hedges.
I root for the cat.
Not often
But on occasion
Y’know….just
Get that one.
Hey I chirp now and then
Get a bit over eager
At the feeder
Peck at an over eager squirrel.
It is called a “BIRD” feeder bozo.
It’s getting’ colder
They’re all keyed up
Going south.
I may just stay here
Nest near the dryer vent
Hope they toss out a slice of bread
Whole wheat is ok
Maybe a fistful of seed.
I hope they leave soon
I may read a book
Quietly
I have always been a fire starter
burning the unnecessary
to mingle with the ashes;
I do not stir the pot
just toss out excess;
Incinerate
all the fluff
in my
path. p
Why do some of us write poetry, what is it that makes us even care.
Could there be a specific reason behind the rhymes that we might choose to share.
Maybe it’s just for enjoyment, or a contest to let your words glisten.
You could be like the Lawless poet, who writes because no one will listen.
Some poets will write about God, or for a love that has left them behind.
Individually we have our own reasons, a cause for each of us to find.
We might, seek a little fame, things are not always what they seem.
A few get to spill ink for cash, while others are just living the dream.
I usually write from the heart, I’m not afraid to toss out those dice.
Sometimes it’s a break from reality, enjoying my own paradise.
I will continue to write what I want, that has always been plain to see.
If you don’t like my words or my rhymes, then pass me by and just let me be.
My left brain and my right brain are never in sync
I can cough up the best words but they will be misspelled
Or I can toss out perfect words
But they have no flavor, no emotion, no zest.
Poets can do no more than the muse allows
My muse is ready to show off
Dare I hold her back?
The truth is that people think I am the best listener in the world.
I have mastered the face and the expressions of the most interested.
I can toss out the best impression of a person who cares.
I am doing it correctly, for waitresses sit down and tell me their story.
I scoot over for waiters, hairdressers and bartenders too.
A few well placed “hms”, “wows” and “oh, mys" make me fast friends.
Most are self-involved, care not if they learn anything about me.
They want my deeply empathetic hazel eyes to pull out their truths.
I am an actress, playing a role, giving them what they need.
Wondering why they are too selfish to ask me anything about me.
I am the world’s most notorious imposter of a listener.
Many times I am on autopilot, not hearing a word they say.
Sadly, they hug me goodbye and tell me how much it means to them.
At the end of a meal, we take all that is left,
Wrap it up to consume the next day,
With the cycle repeating until all that food
Is devoured, but not thrown away.
Same with sewing a project – what fabric remains
When the quilt or the pillow’s complete,
Joins the remnants from previous stitchings I’ve made
So the next time, their patterns I’ll greet.
There are those who are savers and those who are not
But no matter which side you’ve embraced,
If you toss out your leftovers – fabric or food,
You have wasted what must be replaced.
(Georgia election Senryus)
Yeah, we're going
to give America the
democratic win.
'Cause that's how we roll.
We'll show you how to toss out
republican crooks.
We'll give the bird to
lying Donald Trump and his
criminal cohorts.
Long live America,
long live the constitution,
long live blue Georgia.
We were the last two we thought; anyway this was my guess.
We had both looked for days. His name was Mr. Dan Wess.
He was much older than me, and suggested we get a canoe.
I thought it a good idea; since it was only us two.
We loaded it with food, but it was too heavy to go.
So we had to toss out some stuff, as you probably know.
We steered that canoe through town after town.
There truly were no other inhabitants anywhere around.
Let’s keep steering south, he suggested with power.
I was not against it, but I needed a pretty good shower.
So we stopped long enough to have a dinner and a bath.
We commandeered a kitchen, and made a pretty good path.
Shall we leave a note in case there are any other survivors?
I looked at him closely. Was he one of the evil connivers?
Could I trust this guy? This stranger? This weird little man?
We traveled to the end of the world, me and this Dan.
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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.