PoemFalcon69 Jan 2015
The Cat Sat On The Mat.
The Mat Sat On The Cat.
Hat. Cat. Mat.
The Mouse Sat On The Blouse.
The Blouse Sat On The House.
Mouse. Blouse. House.
The Dog Sat In The Bog.
The Bog Sat Near Smaug.
Dog. Bog. Smaug.
Why do you just stay
Sat in that chair
In a dark dark room
Do you like it in there?

I know for a fact
You really don't
But when i ask you to move
You say you wont

Why wont you listen
I want to help
Don't make me leave,
Leave you to yelp

I try to touch you
You bat me away
It doesn't seem to matter
What I say

You just stay
Sat in that chair
I begin to think
you must like it there

I want to take you
Out of the dark
To see the birds and the bees
The dogs and the lark

Maybe it's hopeless
But I wont give in
You dont deserve it,
Have commited no sin

So take my hand
Just like before
Only this time
I'll help you more

I'll give you what you need
And that I swear
Lean on me all you want
I'll always care

I just ask one thing
If you leave me behind
For better or worse
I'll always be kind

No matter what you do
No matter what you say
No matter whether you hurt me
I'll wait here every day

If you ever come back
I dont know that you will
But if you ever do
I know that we'll

Be just like before
No words need be spoken
You can be happy
You're no longer broken.
Perhaps a follow up to Take My Hand, perhaps not.
Paul Hardwick Sep 2012
sat sat up
sat sat down
beware of that dog
they are building bigger bombs
so be ware sat shifted in his chair
then span round
and if he had some
combed his hair.
C J Baxter Nov 2015
A thousand angry fingers are fighting.
"I’m right! Im right! There’s wrong in your writing.”
There’s a war of opinion, it's a slaughter of facts,  
as fearful dominions blame who they can for the acts
of hate that they scrape across our tired eyes;
and as we try and decipher truth from the lies.
So soon people point, push, drag and despise
anyone they believe to be the devil in disguise.  
“ Hang them, hit them, beat them down.
Don’t let another one of ‘those' in my good town”.  

I tried to tie my own tongue and keep quiet.
But my fingers felt need to fight in this riot.
Though I am not seeking a thumb from anyone,
I was beginning to fear I was a disloyal son;
for our mother is weeping for every child.
Whether radical, righteous, anxious or mild.  
She’s worried this war, like a fire in the wild,
won’t stop until all is consumed but the ash that is piled.
“ Stop this! Stop this! My dear children!
  Life is so much more than the motives of men"

And I watch this war from a cafe in Glasgow;
outside enjoying coffee, crisps and tobacco.
The smoke swirls my head into a strange sense of comfort,
as before my eyes I watch my own world distort.  
Where political posts attempt to equal social justice.
Where blood, bodies and bombings add to our numbness.
Where others opinions slowly shape and become us.
Where poets lack rhyme, guidance or substance.
Where In friends we see foes, and in fellow citizens: dangers.
Where we speak with our fingers, and to ourselves become strangers.
She sat and sang alway
  By the green margin of a stream,
Watching the fishes leap and play
  Beneath the glad sunbeam.

I sat and wept alway
  Beneath the moon's most shadowy beam,
Watching the blossoms of the May
  Weep leaves into the stream.

I wept for memory;
  She sang for hope that is so fair:
My tears were swallowed by the sea;
  Her songs died on the air.
Steven Martin Jun 2014
“The twinkle in my eye”
She says

The twinkle in my eye?
He stripped of passion.
He stripped of feeling.

Such words sang from a freshly cut melon.
Smiling up at me
Eyes glistening from fascination
Chest glistening from the essence
Of a coconut (and a small amount of saliva)

Curves of unfathomable length
Lips of explored (and unexplored) depths
Luscious locks of the moonless sky
Leave me lavished with listless languish
For just a moment

But my breath returns
My energy rebalanced
Spirit re

Sweet Satine
Emily Tyler May 2013
I sat outside
Lauren's LS classroom
While everyone else was at lunch
Chewing up and equal mixture of
Soggy bread and lunch meat.

I sat outside
While my back went numb
Against the cinderblock
From leaning a little too hard.

I sat outside
While other kids
with different schedules
Wrote elongated essays for English
Just to make 500 words.

I sat outside
Of Lauren's LS
While she tried her hardest
To explain to me
Why I got 17b wrong
Of course
How to fix it.

And I sat outside
Doing test corrections
For a poisoned class called

I sat outside
Because of my 57% score.

I sat outside,
And I decided to study.
Bruce Ruston Feb 2015
We sat an’ didn’t like the sweetcorn,
nor the forks, the moon had no quarrel.

The sun had no bite with the wallpaper.
Black, Black the salted air drifted

The colour scented with the taste
of chip’s n’ vinegar
I met a genius on the train
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
Forgotten sat love-
Come share me the drug-
Embrace in my arms-
The coldest of hugs-

Dig deeper than six-
Find a new home-
Deep in the trench-
Protect me with chrome-

Sing me a love song-
Then sing me one more-
Then sing  one from the heart-
Don’t sing to the core-

Choir a’int there-
Like the angels above-
Look for your religion-
I’ll look for the crumbs-

Pick’em up off the floor-
Count them as I can-
Put them all in basket-
So you can eat out my hand-

Ask for forgiveness-
And thou shall be granted-
Swag up right walking-
Continue moving slanted-

Dream little a dream-
Of how it all was-
Forgotten about yesterday-
Forgotten sat love-
I sat with a cat in my lap.
This cat is having a nap.
I wish she'd get off me,
I want some more coffee.
This cat in my lap should scat.

This kitty is itty & bitty.
She jumped up to where I was sitting.
She needs to get down,
I'm wearing a frown.
No coffee is making me giddy.

So here I sit like a twit.
My lap must be made of catnip.
I want one more cup
But she just won't get up.
This cat in my lap should get.
The cat's name was Mystery, by the way.

© 2011  J.J.W. Coyle
Cecelia Francis Aug 2015
A mother bird sat and
sent another mother bird at
some other burning tent

So away she went
Pauline Russell Mar 2016
Little bird little bird why do you sit there
in the middle of the road without even a care
did the other little birdies give you a dare
I'm afraid you haven't a prayer
You just set and you stare
So totally unaware
That you'll soon be a splat
Where your body once sat.
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