Here is a list of Most Liked Prose Poems written by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
I'm your handiman
Just sit back darlin' and
let me patch your walls
Let me tear up that old
rug and rebuild these halls
I can redo that old deck that
is chipped and worn
And replace new wallpaper
all faded and torn
I can lay new tile in coulors
so bright
I'll paint your ceilings and
install new lights
I'll custom build your cabnets
and even apply stain
I'll clean out those pipes and
unclog that drain
And when I put away these tools
and sweep up the mess
Powder that nose and slip into
that dress~
let me patch your walls
Let me tear up that old
rug and rebuild these halls
I can redo that old deck that
is chipped and worn
And replace new wallpaper
all faded and torn
I can lay new tile in coulors
so bright
I'll paint your ceilings and
install new lights
I'll custom build your cabnets
and even apply stain
I'll clean out those pipes and
unclog that drain
And when I put away these tools
and sweep up the mess
Powder that nose and slip into
that dress~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
Ok..I do Home Improvement..lol. Call me..How dead is dead?
Is dead deader then
the deadest thing
that ever died?
Or if you died the
death of a dirty dog
would anybody have
cried?
To die like slop, to
dry up like a fly
Would even this dying
death ever mak'em cry?
Did anybody ever die
to death just because
they could?
Can't we get a lil' bit
deader like we know we
really should?
The death of the death
of the six times dead
Try that on for size to
see how much you blead
Go ahead, die some more
Cause it'll never be
enough
And if you survive that
super dying..then man
you're really tough!
the deadest thing
that ever died?
Or if you died the
death of a dirty dog
would anybody have
cried?
To die like slop, to
dry up like a fly
Would even this dying
death ever mak'em cry?
Did anybody ever die
to death just because
they could?
Can't we get a lil' bit
deader like we know we
really should?
The death of the death
of the six times dead
Try that on for size to
see how much you blead
Go ahead, die some more
Cause it'll never be
enough
And if you survive that
super dying..then man
you're really tough!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
The next time someone tells you to 'drop dead', hand them this poem so you can determine how dead they want you.lol. AS a courtesy I've enabled you to drop dead with style..You can thank me later.lol.Sign in Sign out
Sign in if they're talking
constructive
Sign out if it sounds
more destructive
Sign in if takes a bit
of faith
Sign out if it's doubt
and disgrace
Sign in if you're going
for the gold
Sign out if it's a lesser
prize to hold~
constructive
Sign out if it sounds
more destructive
Sign in if takes a bit
of faith
Sign out if it's doubt
and disgrace
Sign in if you're going
for the gold
Sign out if it's a lesser
prize to hold~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
Negative never helped anybody..Three Mary's
The magestic hills of
Blossum Grove held much
to be admired
For Mary Love it was the
meandering streams where
she met the love she
so desired
But Mary Doubt saw only
a cold landscape, and
no beauty could heal
her heart
Yet Mary Optimist found
hope among the tulips
and faith for a brand
new start~
Blossum Grove held much
to be admired
For Mary Love it was the
meandering streams where
she met the love she
so desired
But Mary Doubt saw only
a cold landscape, and
no beauty could heal
her heart
Yet Mary Optimist found
hope among the tulips
and faith for a brand
new start~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
How we sometimes equate external beauty and circumstances to our inner experiences~Love Clock
The love clock tells
no time
No hours have passed
Not even a chime
Between past and future
in the eternal now
Loves timeless face
will forever smile~
no time
No hours have passed
Not even a chime
Between past and future
in the eternal now
Loves timeless face
will forever smile~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
Written in no time at all..lol.Doped up Cluckers
A couple of chickens
on old Browns farm
found a bag of pills
which caused some alarm
There were blue pills, and
red pills and green ones
galore
These clucking cluckers
gobbled til four
Wasen't long til the cows
and the horses joined in,
all staggering and laughing
in the old pig pen
Those crazy cluckers had
plucked themselves clean
A feather fest they had
in this barnyard scream
Old farmer Brown broke out
in rash when he discovered
the cluckers had gobbled
his stash
Those clean plucked cluckers
were picking and pecking
Wild eyed and wacked out did
they all go stepping
These freaked out featherless
friends of the coup
Is why we all stand in line
for farmer Browns soup~
on old Browns farm
found a bag of pills
which caused some alarm
There were blue pills, and
red pills and green ones
galore
These clucking cluckers
gobbled til four
Wasen't long til the cows
and the horses joined in,
all staggering and laughing
in the old pig pen
Those crazy cluckers had
plucked themselves clean
A feather fest they had
in this barnyard scream
Old farmer Brown broke out
in rash when he discovered
the cluckers had gobbled
his stash
Those clean plucked cluckers
were picking and pecking
Wild eyed and wacked out did
they all go stepping
These freaked out featherless
friends of the coup
Is why we all stand in line
for farmer Browns soup~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
Plucked!You could be..
You could be a poem beaming
into my life as I face this
rainy day
You might be the one that
can ease the strife holding
my hand along the way
You could be the moon on a
starlit night that makes the
night air sing
You could be the one with the
magic touch with all that love
can bring~
into my life as I face this
rainy day
You might be the one that
can ease the strife holding
my hand along the way
You could be the moon on a
starlit night that makes the
night air sing
You could be the one with the
magic touch with all that love
can bring~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
A lil' romantic~Bad hair day..
I had four hairs
left on my head
When I awoke, three
were dead
Now all that remains
is one lil' strand
fighting for life
trying to stand
I had no choice but
to nurse this hair
combing every which
way to give it some
flair
But alas, it too had
laid down and died
Leaving me a shiney
new head with nothing
to hide~
left on my head
When I awoke, three
were dead
Now all that remains
is one lil' strand
fighting for life
trying to stand
I had no choice but
to nurse this hair
combing every which
way to give it some
flair
But alas, it too had
laid down and died
Leaving me a shiney
new head with nothing
to hide~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
Where's my freaking hair? lolSeven roses
Mondays rose I left on
your doorstep hoping to
make you smile
The white rose of Tuesday
I pinned to your blouse for
purity in times of trial
Wednesdays black rose tokened
warning for ominous skys so
bleak
Thursdays yellow peddles were
for the love we dearly seek
Fridays blue rose is your
phoenix rising again
Saturdays pink rose is for
love we need to mend
And Sundays rose of eclectic
colours merge all the roses
by fire..
Yes, it's Sundays rose refining
the heart..a rose that can soar
no higher~
your doorstep hoping to
make you smile
The white rose of Tuesday
I pinned to your blouse for
purity in times of trial
Wednesdays black rose tokened
warning for ominous skys so
bleak
Thursdays yellow peddles were
for the love we dearly seek
Fridays blue rose is your
phoenix rising again
Saturdays pink rose is for
love we need to mend
And Sundays rose of eclectic
colours merge all the roses
by fire..
Yes, it's Sundays rose refining
the heart..a rose that can soar
no higher~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
About this poem:
Roses of love and trial~
A Misty Morning
It all just comes to a stop.
Smoke blown in to the moisture laden morning air...
Hanging there before my eyes...
It's message not lost to me, but perhaps ignored.
The sun never quite giving the feeling
of a day begun in earnest.
No stirring from brittle branches
moistened and heavy from the morning mist.
But still birdsong falls like rainbow rain
the small lives hidden from view but there.
A persistant primrose refusing to give ground to the season
- still fighting to flower – a droplet of colour in the grey
Are these a message to me?
Did I miss something when I cast my eye over the world?
Perhaps I didn't,
but did I really see?
Smoke blown in to the moisture laden morning air...
Hanging there before my eyes...
It's message not lost to me, but perhaps ignored.
The sun never quite giving the feeling
of a day begun in earnest.
No stirring from brittle branches
moistened and heavy from the morning mist.
But still birdsong falls like rainbow rain
the small lives hidden from view but there.
A persistant primrose refusing to give ground to the season
- still fighting to flower – a droplet of colour in the grey
Are these a message to me?
Did I miss something when I cast my eye over the world?
Perhaps I didn't,
but did I really see?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2012
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