"tucking" poems
Some people forget that love is
tucking you in and kissing you
"Good night"
no matter how young or old you are
Some people don't remember that
love is
listening and laughing and asking
questions
no matter what your age
Few recognize that love is
commitment, responsibility
no fun at all
unless
Love is
You and me
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
Goodnight green eyes,
Your dreams await you in Silver-Lined skies,
Dreams of dragons, and fairies, and me,
and hopefully just a touch of mystery.
The sliding colors slipping silently through silky seas,
gliding gracefully over gallant gull wings,
whisking you away with a gentle breeze.
You see dragons and pirates,
fairies and gypsies,
tricksy little gnomes,
and flamboyant pixies,
you see them all tucking away,
hiding in there homes as their thoughts start to stray.
and as you glide gracefully over the sea,
your thoughts start to wonder what tomorrow will be,
will there be adventures or heart ache and loss,
or maybe even a romp through the moss,
you might not know now,
but theres something you do,
that someone you love,
is waiting for you.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
•helping the kids with homework•
no one told you,
was part of the job description
paycheck earner a-ok,
gruff but tender lover,
knowing her special places,
building a tree swing,
a tree house safe and satisfactory,
one the neighbors envy
taking them to the hospital for
broken arms and chemotherapy,
part two of the non-routine but a very possible foreseeable,
going to school to give that principal a look
that will make him think twice before suspending
one of his for defending himself
you remember your daddy doing the same for you,
forgetting to repeat the tar and hiding that came later
the tucking in, the pretense ouch
when your end of day
scratchy beard ruffling the skin of babies,
carrying tissues in a toolbox,
never heard of, nevertheless done,
tho not a memory defining the future inclusive,
definitely a learning ability, a likeability
doing homework, nuh uh,
no way jose, don’t dare let them
know how you never got a gold star,
always sat in the back row, outta sight,
all day dreaming, chemistry rhymes with mystery,
and poetry is rhymes needing a big vocabulary
which means lots of words for a man who don’t talk much
ain’t exactly his strong suit
sure, heard of Shakespeare but never met him,
know where the on/off computer button hides,
the rest is up to them;
got no email address, but taught them sir and ma’am,
how to address humans with respect,
i’ll promise them anything
but not doing any homework,
unless it the kind that that makes
“a home work”
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
Isn’t physically quick or agile.
Disappears in libraries.
Has been known to dissolve into the physical pages of books.
Is good at tucking herself into the stacks and retreating to reading nooks.
Blends in at coffee shops where her voice can be drowned out by the grinding and the steaming.
Can become indistinguishable in the dark of theatres, in the quiet shuffle of art galleries, the finger-snapping of poetry readings, the hum and jostle of the Tube.
Is indistinct. Adept at hiding in plain sight.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
there is a monster beneath
the lofty, billowing sheets of my bed
beneath the mattress
the box spring
the carefully crafted wooden frame.
[he lives in the shadows,
in the obscurity there.]
i should feel sheltered...safe,
underneath these sheets,
[like my mother’s arms
tucking me in tight,
don’t let the bed bugs bite.]
but when my arm dangles off my bed,
when i commit that fatal mistake,
i feel a draw to the ground
more forceful than the force of gravity
seizing my hand
paining to pull me under.
and i know it is the monster.
i feel his yearning
for the blood and guts of a child...
his desire to rip me apart
like a lion does his prey.
i take back control of my hand,
wrap my arms around myself,
feigning safety.
for as we all know
that monster could very well
clamber, creep out
climb onto my bed
and swallow me whole.
i don’t know why he hasn’t yet --
perhaps he likes the challenge
of waiting for me
to be susceptible enough to
forget myself
and leave my arm suspended
for more than
just a moment.
i am curled up into a fetal position
paralyzed by my fear.
the anxiety invades my joints
so that i cannot move anymore.
i fall into a fitful sleep
and wake up to sunshine radiating
through my window,
casting the intricate patterns of
my curtains on the rug.
during the day,
the monster cannot survive.
but when nighttime falls
the darkness returns,
my trepidation returns
and the monster is alive.
well, again.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 2:54 AM UTC
if "you are what you eat"
was true
i would help myself
to a bouquet of sunflowers
everyday,
because
i want to learn how to shine
like the street light
outside my bedroom window
i'd line my stomach
with old leonard cohen records
so i could sing all my "i love you"'s
i would stuff my face
with the pages of your favourite book
so i could regurgitate the words
you love so much
whisper them in your ear
while you sleep
i'd take a bite
out of an oak tree
cut me in half
& count my rings
there are so many things
i wish i were
i am not graceful
i'd like to make a toast
to every day that i haven't fallen down
or slipped
or tripped
on my words
see, i am full of mistakes
i never learned
how to ride a bike
god, my parents really tried
but the ground was so unforgiving
& i was too afraid of falling
now,
i would eat those training wheels
so i could keep my balance
walk in a straight line
i'd swallow my watch
so i'm always on time
don't be surprised
if you see me
tucking into those sunflowers
please,
come & bask
in my rays.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:02 PM UTC
So he threw all his chips on red
Thought only of what was in his head
Which turned out to be shots of dread
For his seeds planted in young women's garden bed
Without nary water or breaking bread
Or nary knowing the breaches of his and her homestead
So he rushed down stranger's alley shed
On a runaway, wrongheaded cocky sled
Through her banks, he crashed her spread
Like a raging, raging thoroughbred
Nary was a thought of a rubber glove on his dragonhead
For the buried absence of love was in his heart of lead
There's his wife at home tucking their kids in their bunkbed
While he flirted with the forbidden apple instead
It was this night that lives in infamy for others to read this dread
For the news broke of a married man impregnating a young coed
Accosting such teen to what now proves to be his deathbed
Yet if he unwinds his c(l)ock and placed his chips on black he wouldn't have bled
Petering out the ills in his marriage he would have been freed
Now he shrivels in a shameful battle of what went through his head
Logan Robertson
10/05/2018
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
*“...Your words were found and I ate them.
They became a joy to my heart. In my mouth—
a sweet delight, but in my belly—bitter...”
--Jeremiah*
...But that night
by dim background of next-room light
I could not see your face
just feel your hush of shadow words
on spine of shudders
Seems we dropped this bomb
that would not stop exploding!
...And I was sure?
that it was right?
because...because....!
Their eyes were slanted!
So they could not see—
the “Good Guys”
VANISH—
WIDE-EYED—!
in its TOO-MUCH-LIGHT
Still your voice insists
in pause and fissioned hiss
that I MUST KNOW
in tender half-life
TRUTH
too pure
too deadly white
I swallow lethal glowing dose
HOW CAN YOU SPEAK
SUCH WORDS SO CLOSE!
EXPOSED!
“...in mouth sweet—in belly bitter…”
Stories? and the Grandma Song
rendered tender—lull of voice
Soul’s cabinet cleared of venial sin
Last of all—the tucking in.....
They say you first get sick....
Seems we dropped this bomb
that would not stop exploding!
And I am invisibly ill—with truth
approaching critical mass
Will angry rads incise their ways?
Will leaden swords of angels drive them back?
In this night—
my bedtime stories fainted at your
whispers...whispers...WHISPERS—
fusing an oblong fear
that I MUST NOT DROP!
but I cannot hold!
Fetal-folded
frail and freezing
under covers— just barely peeking
“Jesus hanging on the cross…Tell me-- was it I?”
Jesus hanging in the cross
TELL ME! IT’S NOT TRUE!
"Tell me, mother
Were you God talking?
I could not see your face
by the next room’s light..."
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC
Her daddy pushed her on the swing
She thought about this, she thought about that
He brought her home toys
Presented with a hug
Presented with a kiss
He stopped coming home at night, stopped carrying her to sleep
Very (agile), very (mischievous)
He stopped coming to dinner, stopped tucking her into bed
He brought home another woman
Presented her with a hug
Presented her with a kiss
Her heart filled with lies and deceit
She was a lot like you or I
Very funny, very (sly)
She could make you laugh
She could make you think
So elegant, so chic
Beauty that made you stop and blink
Mistaken as heartless
Maybe a *****
But inside she was the moon and we were the sun
She had hydrangeas growing in her bones
Stars enchanted her every touch
But she was so lost
Left behind in this dark forest
She couldn't see the sunset she could paint with only her soul
Convinced she was wrong
That is was all her fault
"You're never gonna make it"
She keeps walking through the dark
Listening for your voice, feeling for your touch
Cold and alone
You're all she's ever looked for
Her dad doesn't push her on the swing
She still thinks about this, she still thinks about that
He takes her out to dinner
No hug
No kiss
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
grinding myself hard onto your unzipped pants
i imagine clipping into your body and
shattering your programming
our lips meander into each other breaking
california law,
and simultaneously
finding anatomical peace
your **** thrusts through slacks an angry fist
and I wonder how eager my mouth looks on you
******* the decade between us
bridging the age gap with a rope of *****
lip to ***** in awe that I am
capable of making you ***
silly and heavy with excited hands
i fumble with my pants,
tucking my knees into my chest to slide them off my feet
my stomach disobeys me, spilling out
holding onto something desirable of mine so tight
you crush my fleeting abstinence
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
A hiss of the moon tucking
into just a pair of lock
let alone in pavilion-tresses
on the back of one's eternal silence.
Giving autumn shadows
to seven skies' azure.
What now the stars are gone
followed in their countless galore!
Eyes of the buds ope
dreaming nightingale
hops up to the morning rose
singing in what a balmy fold.
Mar 17, 2022
Mar 17, 2022 at 11:15 PM UTC
Christmas is here
Santa's been
Listen to them
Excited screams
Racing down the stars
Jumping on the spot
Excited giggles
Shouting out
Santa's been
Santa's been
Tearing open presents
Shouts of Delight
Lots of hugs and kisses
Smiles on everyone
Family gathers round
Chatter never ends
Laughter fulls the room
Kisses under the mistletoe
Raise a toast
Santa's been
Santa's been
Tucking into turkey
Hiding Brussel sprouts
Pulling Christmas crackers
Making people laugh
Merry Christmas everbody
Santa's been
Santa's been
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
Dear Mentor Hyde:
Upon the morgue room table he looked like he had some Frankenstein fame
Like a two sided ten thousand piece puzzle, we started with his fragile frame
Racing to find the four corners I found three shaped, kinda like the same
Good, now he knows, when were done today we will win this insane game
On a first name basis I want to know them all, and by it their first name
Witnessing weeping children gets me every time I get all sensitive like a dame
It makes me happy to know I’m tucking you in and you’re not going to the flame
Sewing him back together he couldn’t move for he had a case of being lame
When he comes back to life he will forever be our friend and also be very tame
From far off distance places they all will come and from far they all came
Looking to see how we done, I’ll admit it for I have no shame
If anything goes wrong, look to me and I will take the total blame.
Sincerely,
Dr. Jackal
(SirCARSr 2-3-13)
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
I am the soft silent sight
nestled in a tree gently
holding hands with emotion.
Together like lovers we intimately
sit with an invisible touch.
Our eyes penetrating darkness
we govern like a loving mother
or angelic force like Mother Teresa.
A shiny moon polishing
a silvery heart cooled
by a vast ocean.
I always fly quietly as I bring
a gentleness into darkness.
Tucking the night up with
the softest quilt, through a pane
of glass in a near by wood you
hear me calling.
I give a rod of stability eternal sight
seen it all before will see it again.
As we hang softly like the moon
in the sky or an Owl in the tree.
I lift people through their night
I carry them with my sight a
tractor beam of light.
As you feel my presence like a
million hands that softly
penetrate.
All holding torches you are
lite like a child who's mother
has come back.
Scooping you up your
darkness falls on
entering my Owls sight.
I am the light that always
surrounds the night .
I am the ever expanding vision
the tide that never turns but
just keeps on rising.
I grow with a bursting force
of an ever expanding universe
as I stretch my eyes they keep
on reaching.
I am the ancient eye placed high
above always unstirred but
filled with feeling.
Like the white of an eye surrounding
a pupil I am the army who circles
around the darkness.
I am the reflection of the velvet
moon sitting on the ocean
threading itself throughout
your being.
Those caught within my sight
will feel a thousand tiny bubbles
of bright light.
Gandolf the white explores
your caves holding his
wisdom stick and lantern.
Unlocking your hidden emotion
giving you magic fighting
of your demon.
I will conquer hell fire with
a gentle trickle finding my path
like a mountain stream passing.
But when I open my heart my wings
the devil will shudder because I hold a
power like the pacific ocean.
So much protection we can find
at night within the Owls sight.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
How do I say goodbye to someone as loved as you
Where do I begin to convince myself it's all going to be alright without you
It seems darker now without your presence in this old world
It's like I've lost my guiding light to see because
You were always so content to let me shine
while walking a step behind
You gave so much praise and glory
When you were the one with all the strength
Never one to complain
You were my hero and everything I'd like to be
Like the song you were the wind beneath my wings
Your kindness never went unnoticed
I've kept it all here in my heart where it will remain
And I want you to know that I wouldn't be the person I am today
if it hadn't been for your loving ways
You are the reason I know what true love feels like
Because I know you loved me truly and unconditionally
Always my supporter lifting me up so high
You were my defender who fought for and believed in me like no one else
ever has
Because of you I got to witness genuine kindness in it's purest form
You were never far from my thoughts
And now you're always there when I close my eyes
You tucked me in so many times with bedtime stories
always making me feel right at home
So now I'm tucking you in and I know you are at home where you are
Nothing I could ever say or do would be enough to honor the person you were
The most gentle soul I've ever known
The best person in this whole wide world
Everyone says you were blessed to live a long life and I know you were content
But I'm the blessed one because I got to make memories with you
I got to laugh with you and cry with you
Sitting at the kitchen table we talked about any and everything
You never made me feel that I was silly or wrong
You just let me be myself completely
We got to see each others true colors shine through
And I always admired how beautiful your's were
In this old world without any color
You were a wildflower
© Ashley Rodden. All rights reserved
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
Her life was run on the oil of synchronicity
planted in the seduction of abstract hypotheses.
The moons and ebbs of tides
Swoop in like thunderclaps
on wing'ed lightning bolts,
Capturing synergy
Wiping out energy
Till she huddles in a pile of her own failure
Tucking up her toes to avoid the floods
Admiring and condemning
The rain soaked
Howling at her gate.
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 9:58 PM UTC
**I miss tucking my feet under legs
while sitting cosy on the sofa
under the legs of another
I always get cold feet
Its not like I miss anyone in perticular
I just miss having somewhere warm to tuck my feet**
Dec 16, 2010
Dec 16, 2010 at 12:53 PM UTC
Panic,
placed on the splintered edge of a dreaming mind,
I spit and sputtered, like the dying wings of
a dragonfly on a cold cappuccino morning.
She called me in the dark moody blue hue of early morning
as if to steal the broken moon from the attic in my chest.
So early I could hear the creak of spider legs
inching for a place of warmth.
Still in dream logic, she was crying so quietly
Melted spoons for a brain, I could only hear
the groans and pains of
the pet spiders on my ceiling,
their so cute and pissy in the morning.
She muffled "I need help"
I snapped awake as if a reflex to fight a charging train wreck.
This time advice came direct from my dream landscape the truth served dark black
and without the vanilla flavor.
I focus and get in gear "Hey girlie I am here, whats going on?"
An hour goes by a like a cat sneeze on a stormy day.
Again she laughs if I could see her, her smile would be wide tired and tear stained.
I laugh with her, while aching at the corner of my eyes " well hey try that tomorrow and if it doesn't work we can brainstorm to try something else. Call me tomorrow my sleepiness is welting my consciousness, I am not much use now except maybe for some mad hatter talk." A pause she sighs as if pushing of sleep. I wanted just one more smile to be sure" Stand strong if you can survive this hit the sky will clear for you. We'll strangle the rainmaker if we have to"
parting jokes and the call the ends, my moon back in my chest
content spiders basking in rays of light I can almost hear the hum of the morning sun.
I smile fading with the ceiling tucking me in, I can see her curled up with her stuffed animals half crying half terrified she falls to sleep drooling on her long time best friend
Mr finkers.
and
Finally the purr of happy spiders lulls be back to sleep.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 6:29 PM UTC
Takes deep breath
Lacing my arms to create a nest on my desk
Tucking my face inside
Breathing slowly
Till each breath is half of the last.
Than sufficating under my own
Depression.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
In the framework of the party house turned trap
you pushed a man to the wall and pulled out your glock 357
and held it to his temple like it wasn’t loaded
and you weren’t angry
and I was in the closet with a boy whose name I never thought to learn
and to this day I have kept your secret
I'll never know what you whispered in his ear as
the bass dropped somewhere downstairs
but I will never forget the way your trigger finger twitched
and the way he dropped his cup
and ***** mixed with cranberry juice fell to the floor
and soaked into the carpet
I wonder if the stain is still there
I wonder if they’d even care if they knew it could be blood
on the ground in their bedroom
and you stalked out after tucking the gun back into your waistband
and pushing your hair back into place
and he leaned against the wall and fell to his knees like he was seeing Jesus
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
She said when I wanna fool around why do i always talk?
I couldn't blame you this may come as a shock,
Sending and vasting off into a deep plain with no bloodshed,
Maybe I could be the zombie in your Evil Dead,
Do things that might end up as later possible regrets,
I could be the father of grandeurs tucking you in bed,
Showered in beer , blood and threads,
Strobe blinding my eyes,
Love it when you tell me lies instead,
Girls,
They like to have a girls night out,
And when they do,
Then they need to arrive at my raves ,
Then if they don't,
Then they'll have something to regret.
Welcome To The Rave!
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 4:15 PM UTC
my body and i,
we do not always
get along.
our relationship,
like that of an old married couple.
an old married couple who got married a little too young,
too unprepared,
too wild.
a couple that's been together way too long,
so long that, now
we could not be with anyone else.
we don't know how to
and anyway, we have the same friends.
my body and i,
we fight a lot.
years upon years of arguments,
betrayals.
too many feelings have been hurt.
i'm not sure if there is even any trust left,
both equally as guilty as the other.
but there's still love there, somewhere,
deep down
and every now and again that goodness will appear,
hidden within the little things;
leaving meals out for each other,
tucking the other into bed after a long day
warm showers.
small moments of love
we stay together.
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 7:27 AM UTC
There’s a meadow with the grasses growin’
Where my true love and I ran with the winds blowin’
But now a-days I walk alone
And all the grasses are done grown
The laughing winds that swish and sway
Wipe my hopeless tears away
There’s a river where there’re children playin’
Who scream and shout till the sun is settin’
My love and I used to sing and wade
Now it’s just me where the children played
The laughing winds that swish and sway
Wipe my hopeless tears away
In my dreams my love’s come home
She is mine from soul to bone
And she whispers her pretty smile
Which takes me away from this world awhile
Her silken skirts that swish and sway
Tucking all my fears away
In the morning, in the dawn
I see again my darling’s gone
Stars shine bright, but brighter was she
One mistake and they took her from me
I hear the whistle and whip’s hard crack
All my tears come rushing back
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 10:51 AM UTC
As Dusk Slowly Grasped The Day In Cold Hands,
Blue Birds Snuggled Into Their Nests Of Soft Hay,
Clouds Rolled In--Tucking In The Frosted Lands,
Ducking Into Sleep Fragile Flowers Waited To Play,
Eager For The Day Robins Closed Their Tired Eyes,
Ferns Sway In A Befuddled Wind--It's Mind Whirling,
Gregarious Crickets Shake Away Their Frosty Ties,
Homesick Linnets Wings Spread--Elegantly Swirling,
Illuminating The Night Sat The Paled Lonely Moon,
Jubilant It Is Though, Upon It's View From The Sky,
Kissable Caterpillars Lounge In Their Cocoons,
Lost In Sleep They Dream Of The Clouds So High,
Mother's Of The Nocturnal World Lead Their Young,
Northward To Play In Wheat Filled Prairies,
Organic Love Loomed Where The Branches Hung,
Promenading Inside A Wind Smelling Like Berries,
Quietly The First Few Drops Of Rain Fell,
Ricocheting Off Of Budding Leaves,
Sweet Mother Earth Caught Everything In Her Spell,
Tonight A Sacred Lullaby Is Whispered By The Trees As,
Untamed Ligtning Struck The Frozen Ground,
Vibrating The Sky Thunder Crashed,
Water Swam Through The Air Creating No Sound,
Xenon and Nitrogen Screamed While They Clashed,
Yet No Gentle Creature Was Awakened--Grasping
ZZzz's Under The Year's First Shower
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
Shrouded in deep purple fear and billowing clouds of crimson shame,
I sat on the floor, a trembling moth in still air.
I swallowed. The taste of bile remained.
My warmth flowed out of my body into the icy bathroom tiles, escaping rapidly through cracks in my split-open soul.
She sat beside me, quiet, waiting.
After an eternity, I nodded to her with a shaky breath.
She helped me gently off the floor and guided me to her bed, tucking herself behind me to become my tight cocoon.
With my head rested against her chest, I heard her blood pounding through her, but her breaths were slow, controlled.
The fibers of my muscles remained tense, straining to compensate for my spirit - raw, exposed, vulnerable.
Her small, soft fingers ran through my tangled hair,
drips of golden honey appearing as she began to hum.
Her radiant honey oozed from the smooth, full notes of her voice and dripped between sharp fragments of my shattered porcelain.
The clock tutted at us from the wall, approaching the third hour of morning, but she held my shards together tenderly and unhurried.
The fight drained from me as she sang her sweet melody.
A puddle of purple and crimson beneath me. Pieces, tenderly held.
Her pure, glimmering honey meandered through my etched cracks and between my too-prominent ribs to replace my purple and crimson.
She sang the life back to me, held me together with her sturdy grace.
She waited as the liquid gold began to solidify and I began to feel closer to whole once more.
She - who loves me laughing, who loves me dancing - loves me messy, too.
Mar 22, 2022
Mar 22, 2022 at 6:17 PM UTC