#bucket
Beneath a swirling vortex of stars,
I write my dreams on crumpled paper,
folding each one into the corners of my heart.
Places I’ve never seen,
moments waiting to happen,
they call to me in whispers—
soft, yet instantaneous.
Dive into oceans deeper than fears,
stand atop mountains taller than doubt.
Feel the rush of wind,
the pull of gravity,
the weightless joy of being alive.
This bucket list is more than a record,
it is a promise to myself:
to seek the infinite,
to embrace the fleeting,
to live as though the stars burn only for today.
Feb 17, 2025
Feb 17, 2025 at 3:05 PM UTC
Some sort of checklist people have,
That may be found in a photograph.
It could be a one way ticket to Budapest,
Or scaling the top of Mount Everest.
Seeing the Eiffel Tower and Mona Lisa,
Or a picture with the leaning tower of Pisa.
Swimming with turtles in the Bahamas,
Or exploring Peru in search of llamas.
Lying on white sandy beaches in Sicily,
There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 4:22 PM UTC
\m/ The metal sign is in fact a bucket sign. \m/
Bucketbots, the ultimate rebels with Big B in the lead, we wear the horns sign on our heads proudly INVERTED.
.
I don't know Buckethead's beliefs; even as atheist, it doesn't matter, since horns' signs and inverted crosses defy god; nothing is cooler than defying the devil, also, as Buckethead defies metal, music, turning everything on its head.
Taking the whole hand into perspective, facing the knuckles or palm, most evident in everyone's face topping everything, the bucket shapes metal's symbol crown, with Buckethead as King, the G.O.A.T.
Credits where credits are due.
I dream of a world in which anyone who makes this recognizable sign, even as a second thought, invokes Buckethead.
The sign becomes most symbolic because Buckethead's benefit is uniting everyone in music, BucketheadLand's music.
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 11:46 AM UTC
I’ve a friend
With a bucket for a head.
His desires
Are rather misled.
Or maybe it’s mine
Which tarnish these lines
And wished for
A cone friend instead.
If one
With a cone took his place,
If the bucket
Had left not a trace,
Then this blood-covered train
Of thoughts in my brain
Would never have
Once shown its face.
So when my
Bucketed friend lies his head
In the sun,
And on over I tread,
I’ll fight with my foot,
And I’ll make it stay put,
Cause I’d hate
For my friend to be dead.
Yet still, in the grass,
He has bled.
Nov 21, 2024
Nov 21, 2024 at 3:17 PM UTC
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.
Dec 7, 2022
Dec 7, 2022 at 2:27 AM UTC
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
Mar 21, 2022
Mar 21, 2022 at 9:49 AM UTC
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
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 2:44 PM UTC
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
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 10:06 AM UTC
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
Nov 25, 2019
Nov 25, 2019 at 3:13 PM UTC
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.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 11:26 AM UTC
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
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
There once was a man from Nantucket,
Whose origins were complicated
so people wrote
an idiom
about
him.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:26 PM UTC
Rope
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
Through
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.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 4:46 AM UTC
Let’s go, you and I.
And sweat beneath the African sky
Watch the lions lazing
And the wild dogs playing.
We can sip Amarula
And listen to the hyenas laugh and cry
As the mythical sunset
Silhouettes giraffes and Acacia trees.
Let’s go, you and I
And walk the streets of old town Barcelona.
Find old timey cafe and luxuriate
In sangria and itty bitty tapas
Stroll by Sagrada and gawp
At Gaudi’s home.
Maybe we’ll stop for some ice cream
Maybe we’ll just go back to the hotel
Let’s go, you and I
And swim the blue blue seas of the Bahamas
Nervously Play with the nurse sharks
Hoping they’re not the other sharks
Take those long walks on those beaches
That everyone likes.
We’ll sit on Jankanoo and drink sky juice
Until we can truly reach the heavens
Let’s go, you and I
And ski the Slopes of the Swiss alps
We can stop at small cabins and drink
heartwarming schnapps
Take trains that slink around mountains
And sprint through white capped forests
We can put snow down the backs
Of each others jackets and
Squeal in furious delight.
Let’s go, you and I.
And squish our way through the streets of New York
Relieved when we can pop into a shop
To escape the crowds.
Necks sore from looking up
Small town people in the Big Apple City
Central Park for pretzels and Snapple
Times Square later, neon addiction sated.
And a boat ride to see lady liberty
Let’s go, you and I
And bare our feet in Balinese temples
Speak to the monks in broken English
And then retire to our curtained gazebo
To indulge in the sins they can’t
We’ll get massages and champagne
Then ride our bikes along pothole
Ridden dirt roads.
Let’s go, you and I
And get Nuevo Chic in London’s west end
We can catch a show in tux and evening gown
Then head to the pub and catch a pint
We can walk the trail, hunt Jack the Ripper
And visit The Tower.
Cross the Thames and maybe
No definitely
Another pint in some quaint little place.
Let’s go, you and I
And lie in bed late on lazy Sunday mornings
I’ll poach the eggs and make the hollandaise
You can put some upbeat daytime jazz on
Then we can go sit in the garden
Under the oak tree and read
Each other poetry
Until it’s much much later
...
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
I watch the empty bucket begin to fill
with droplets of rain.
The wood begins to darken,
patterns revealed in disarray.
Water seeps into the fine lines --
and flows into the next crevasse,
which anxiously awaits
the next storm.
The morning dew staves off drought,
but the wood lightens in haste.
Winds empty the spaces within,
until the bucket is washed again.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC
You were standing in a red cardigan.
You told me somehow a bat had got in.
I got a broom and a bucket and put on a hat. We put the bucket on the broom and that was that. You told me to get the bat back out outside or don't come back to bed, I went to war with this 4 oz mammal, the war is on I said. I'm going to get it. Get outta this house or you're going to find yourself dead.
I made a war face, it swooped down at me, I said oh no you don't and threw the bucket over his wings, and that was that. That was it, and I won the war. That was that, I put it outside and then I closed the door.
Your red cardigan was easy to spot, even though you didn't have any makeup on, I saw you sitting there in the corner chair. Bucket on a broomstick you looked absurd to me, I asked you if you wanted something to drink. You said no, I just want to go back to sleep. I said oh, do you want to go to bed back with me.
Take off that silly red jacket, and that hat that doesn't match. Put on something more for sleeping and then let's get it on. You said okay. I said I'm starving. I told me to eat something if I was starving.
I picked you up and threw you down on the bed, I pulled off your pj's and your underwear fast. I said I'd like to eat out, you said you were thrilled, I said I won the war now I'm going to stake my win. You grabbed my head and pulled it closer to you, I grabbed you with my arms I knew what to do. Mammal, mammal, animal in me, I said let's play for keeps, you said I want you inside of me. I laid you down down down down and it was on on on I said let's get things hot hot hot you said I turn you on on on, I said I'd just begun.
We danced ourselves awake until the morning light arrived. And then I heard a sound from the window outside. I think he's back, I said, you said don't focus on him, I said I can't leave it if the war hadn't ended. I kissed your face I kissed your legs, I asked you to spit in my mouth. I'm you're warrior just hold on while I **** this flying rat, you made a face, I grabbed the broom, you put your red cardigan back on and met me with the bucket inside the living room.
I took the broom as my sword and the bucket as my shield, I take our heraldry very seriously. I through the broom in the air, and caught the bat with my shield, she went to open the door, I went to open the freezer. Not in there she screamed, but he'll never make it out alive. She said it'll make everything else smell I said he's got to die, I grabbed him by the wings and took him to the kitchen at once, turned on the garbage disposal and pushed him through it. Blood on my shirt, blood on the stove. Blood was everywhere even across her nose. I won the war I said with a gleam of excite, she said now come back to bed so you can claim your gift and your prize. So I went back to bed and gave her back my head. I stuck my tongue out far as I possibly could. And I went down, I went down down town. Oh I went down. I went down down town. I went to town, I went down down town. I went to town. I went down down town.
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC
1. Lay under the stars with a lover, talking about the meaning of life.
2. Take one risk that may lead to regret, but you’ll at least have a story to tell your children.
3. Fall in love with the wrong person, at least you’ll have learned.
4. Drive along a dirt road after midnight, inhaling the country air and appreciating for just one moment that technology has not yet reached this part of the earth.
5. Go swimming in a lake with nothing but your skin and the sand between your toes.
6. Play your music so loud on a warm summer night that your neighbors scream for you to turn it off.
7. Ride on one upside-down rollercoaster after just eating cotton candy and popcorn.
8. Dye your hair one crazy color and watch it fade, because any color is better than black and white.
9. Stay out until four o’clock in the morning in your friend’s car, hanging your head out of the window and just living.
10. Make memories that will cause a serious case of nostalgia when you’re old and withering from the soft caress of time.
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 9:41 AM UTC
...and i am suffocating
under the weight of your words
i ask you nicely to
please stop
you laugh and mock me of
my pain
and when i cry
you look to the side,
pretending it wasnt you who hurt me
stop crying, you ask,
but not nicely
and i have to put a bucket
over a barrel of
T
E
A
R
S
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 3:34 AM UTC
Stuck in the maw
You put yourself in
All this pain you have
Is self inflicted
Stop abusing yourself so much
You're wincing out the Dutch
And being the opposite of clutch
Pain shouldnt constantly be by slapping yourself emotionally and physically
Its the last thing you want from your bucket list
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
Under the cherry tree
The dog rests her head
Lolls her tongue
Yawns big
Then rests her head
Carefully between
her front paws
Looks up alert
Oh no!
A bucket!
Now her head is trapped
In the bucket
In an attempt to get it off
She walks into a fence
(where did that come from?)
Then two gentle hands
Come to the rescue
And the bucket leaves her alone
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 7:13 PM UTC
Poetry Is...
...a journey
...to magical places
never seen....never been to...
...places...we don't wish
to be...
places...we'd rather be...
...a palette...
paints the world
black...white...
yellow....green...blue...
...white doves fly somewhere
some places...
red covers the atmosphere
...a bucket
of faces...names...moments
we remember
or forget
....a potpourri...
of sweet nothings
curses
promises, broken
unheard conversations
...of bleeding hearts,
feelings reciprocated,
smiles, escaping from
contented lips
...of lovers, riding
tandem bikes
flying kites
planning
dreaming...
unending
...of grips
loosening
leaving...
still, we breathe
still, we exist...
Poetry is anything...tangible...invisible
Poetry is US....the WORLD....
(10W X 10)
Sally
Copyright October 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
I dreamed about the future
and you know it wasn't great
Unless, I may have missed it
And I kind of showed up late
Time controls the future
turns tomorrow to today
just when you think you've made it
the future's yesterday
You can have a bucket full of wishes
You can have a bucket full of dreams
But, don't wait until the future
For it's not quite what it seems
Other peoples futures
Overlap with what you do
Everything keeps changing
So the future is not new
What goes around will come again
At least that's what they say
So if you want to have a future
Why not start out with today?
Tomorrow is a zephyr
It moves fast and it's gone
For the future is the present
by the time you count to one
So, take your bucket full of wishes
And your bucket full of dreams
Don't wait until the future
It isn't what it seems
My future's now my present
And my present will soon go
I don't dream about the future
When I get there...I won't know
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
I just want five hundred grand
Is that too much for me to ask?
It is a lot. Probably too much.
But I am prepared for the task
Of spending that much dough.
I have it completely planned out.
I know where every dollar goes.
It’s all over but the last shout.
Right away, I want a house
And a decent one here on Kauai.
I also want a brand new truck
For my husband to drive and try.
I also have a few trips to plan
Like floating down the Rhine
And then up by train to Denali
That would suit us both just fine.
That ought to do it, I believe;
A secure home all paid for
And decent new cars for us
And a world out there to explore.
That should spend that money
And have a bit of change left over.
Satisfying the homebody I am
And the man I married is a rover.
I am very willing to write a book
And have it sell a million copies.
I have several started and am sure
They would each be a hit in shoppes.
There can be about eight books
Carefully edited by me, for sure
Those alone should make my rep.
That would be my poverty cure.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
No waves
No shore
Not deep
Not sandy
Perfect tempature
Perfect size
Cross legged inside a bucket of water
My little prince looks cuter
You don't have to be under the sun
Splish sploshing indoors is also fun
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
I want to sit and eat ice cream
Until I can’t eat any more.
I want wake up late each day
Until I can’t sleep any more.
I want to take people out to eat
At the most expensive places
And watch the joy spread out
All over each of their faces.
I don’t want to seem greedy
So don’t go off in a huff.
I don’t want an excess of things.
Really, I want just enough.
Just enough to buy presents
For the people I really like.
The rest of the salesmen
Can take a royal hike.
I want to go swimming in
A peaceful hidden lake.
I want to ride the bumper cars
And never hit the brake.
I’ll gladly clean up backstage
At a hit Broadway show.
I want to drive a fast car
As quickly as it will go.
I want to be in a big movie;
Have some speaking lines.
Be invited to the Academy awards;
The name on the card mine.
I want to perform at Carnegie Hall
So they hear me in the back row,
When I sing songs that I wrote
And receive a standing ‘O’.
I want some of my own poetry
To be printed in the NY Times
With plaudits and huzzahs
And a 12 point printed byline.
I want to have to sign autographs
When I got out to eat somewhere.
And, have lots of money in the bank.
And still have plenty to share.
As long as I am wishing here
I may as well tell the truth.
After all it would do no good
To wish for good looks and youth.
It’s not all that much different than
Making a list for Santa Claus.
So saying exactly what I want
Won’t give me a moment’s pause.
But if I get my fondest wishes
Everything I’d like the most
I want something huge and fun
And I am not trying to boast.
I wish everybody could get
At least a few of their list.
So, write your own list out today
And make sure nothing is missed.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC