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Barnaby Atkins Dec 2022
There are buckets made of plastic
There are buckets made of wood
The former are fantastic
The latter not so good.

There are buckets made of metal
And canvas buckets too
But metal for durability
I'd choose if I were you.

There's a bucket on a digger
And buckets made of leather
The former are the bigger
And the latter not so clever.

There are buckets made of tin
And with a little ***** in hand
Kids can build sand castles
When playing on the sand.

There are buckets made of rubber
Or with a wringer for a mop
And some in white enamel
With a blue ring round the top.

There are so many buckets
And some I may have missed
But if anyone should ask me
That's my bucket list.
A poem by Ray Pattenden
I S A A C Mar 2022
ive been going out every weekend
i dont know if its bad or good
i don’t know if im sad or masking
I dont know if i am replacing habits with other bad habits
maybe im the bad habit
the liable rabbit that fell down the rabbit hole
i always seem to overflow
producing tears by the bucket load
i didnt mean to unload too much
unfold too much, save that for drunken spring brunch
grateful for my team, i know that much
but its hard to me to show my real love
but i live and i learn, i larbour and earn
i wait for my turn, the tables always seem to turn
take a left, trust i’m right, work the day, come alive at night
Man May 2021
i've laid out a pail
maybe you'll fill
my bucket

from your high-rise
in ivory
do i look like an ant?

i wish i was porcelain
fairer skinned
and richer

i wish had a strength
to stir the world awake
from it's slumber

all those times
we spent shouting
they faded to echoes
Leone Lamp Apr 2021
The tree sitter of Nantucket
Lived in a tree and he dug it
He never went down
To visit the ground
So he would **** in a bucket
I hope this is profane enough to represent the genre.
We possess a hidden bucket
And we thrive when it is full
We hurt when others reach inside
Our bucket to dip and pull

We soar with loving energy
When our bucket’s overflowing
It just takes a little kindness
To keep our spirit growing

We possess a hidden dipper
Which we use to fill or take
From the buckets of each other
It’s a choice we daily make

And it’s how we use our dipper
That defines our path in life
So let’s choose to fill each other
And spread joy instead of strife

Notice when your bucket’s full
You feel prosperous and strong
But if your bucket’s low or drained
Despair comes speeding along

You’ll find that when you fill a friend
Your bucket gets filled up too
So keep your bucket ever full
Filling others always fill you
This is Prosperity Poem 100 at and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below).
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Each of us has an invisible bucket. It is constantly emptied or filled, depending on what others say or do to us. When our bucket is full, we feel great. When it's empty, we feel awful.

Each of us also has an invisible dipper. When we use that dipper to fill other people's buckets -- by saying or doing things to increase their positive emotions -- we also fill our own bucket. But when we use that dipper to dip from others' buckets -- by saying or doing things that decrease their positive emotions -- we diminish ourselves.

Like the cup that runneth over, a full bucket gives us a positive outlook and renewed energy. Every drop in that bucket makes us stronger and more optimistic.

But an empty bucket poisons our outlook, saps our energy, and undermines our will. That's why every time someone dips from our bucket, it hurts us.

So we face a choice every moment of every day: We can fill one another's buckets, or we can dip from them. It's an important choice -- one that profoundly influences our relationships, productivity, health, and happiness.
Oh no jobs
The difficult is surrounded me
I suppose I will fail

Down down at the deep of the well
The helper will not save me
His rope was so old and jagged
His bucket was there
But it was so damaged

The land which I was on
Will be fallen over my will

My will is vanished
As the light of candle
Try to resist the wind
The dark united with the wind
To hide all things at mind
And the light could hide
So the difficult succeeded
The wall of failure covered
High ,there is no light
the save of jobs needs only minds and great vexperts
gabrielle Jan 2019
watch me see,
watch me feel,
watch me do everything
of my list of dreams.

except for one thing,
and that is to be loved by you,

even for a moon

who gleams.
at this very young age of mine
i already knew that of this
long list of my wishes, i still
wouldn't achieve the last one.
Anya Dec 2018
Poetry is for thinkers, I think
Those who’d spend their days dreaming away
Or those who, in a moment of passion
Scrawl down their thoughts
On little post it note poems
No matter the medium
Though, one can not deny
Poetry is for thinkers

Now, this past week I’ve been a doer
Typically, my lazy temperament
Would prevent this
But things happened
And more things needed doing
Without a doer to do them

And now my mind has switched
And all I can think to do is do
Rather than think to think, reflect
My mind has transformed
From a dreamland
To a bucket list
There once was a man from Nantucket,
Whose origins were complicated                          
so people wrote
an idiom
There's no point in splitting hairs
No point in pointing a finger
It's done
The pages are all torn
Trashed and scattered
And dragged through the gutter
Like yesterdays garbage
And all that rope
I supposedly gave
A phantom
There never was a rope,
A leash, nor a chain
Those things are not for sale
At the well
No there never was a rope
Except perhaps
For  the one attached
To the water bucket
From which
We still
Quietly sip
The miles
Of sea
And storm
And time
As long as we stay
This way
This well
Will never dry up

2016-2017 for the attempt to make unconditional, the conditional.
From my collection Bits And Pieces/Slamming on the Hollywood Freeway 2017 amazonbooks
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