Aesop Poems | Examples

Paper Mountain

Thighs so brown and thick
Ebony eyes that have depth
I’m that weird poet chick
Who eats alone writing poems

I know I look self absorbed 
My papers are my best friends 
And my pen rights my sins
I’m so proud of my loud thoughts

That I jot them down like
Plato or Aesop didn’t beat me
I figure perhaps someone will drink
From the same poetic fountain 

Maybe find some solace 
In my paper mountain
The reality is that I am free
To be myself single rather boring
But at peace with my poetry

Aesop - Condensed

   An ant 
     never says
       “I can’t”

   Grasshoppers
     dream up
       whoppers

Aesop Redux

He squandered time, left fields unplowed,
in search of highs, pursuing thrills,
neglecting that he'd been endowed
with gifts to cultivate and till.
He wandered where his heart did please,
but pleasure slipped by small degrees.

A random walk, no certain line:
the storms in life were kept at bay.
But with no star to point or shine,
he, ere awares, had lost his way.
Once jubilant, his raucous dance
had brought him to a wide expanse.

There in the field, he saw them toil;
relentlessly, they stored away
the harvest so as not to spoil,
to see them through a future day.
He should have marvelled at their craft;
instead, he skipped off with a laugh.

The weather turned, conditions grim;
he found no respite from the storm.
A fleeting thought occurred to him:
that colony was nice and warm,
but having not the strength to fight,
succumbed, unconscious, to the night. 

The ants took pity: although he
was thirsting, cold, and oh so thin,
and time would pass before he'd be
industrious, they took him in.
"Why wasn't I just disavowed?"
he wondered, this time not so loud…

Reflections of Gratitude

 
"Gratitude turns what we have into enough."

Aesop
_______________________________

Each new morning I wake-up with words of thank you,
thanks for this sweet day whether gray or blue,
I am grateful for all . . . 
for everything I have-   be it real big or small,
thankful for the paintings upon my wall,
for my sleeping cat too,

grateful for this Victorian apartment home,
when some must sleep in a wet cardboard dome,
I offer thanksgiving . . . 
for food that I eat daily-  that is life-giving,
and for the courage to be  forgiving, 
and heart for those who roam,

I thank the Lord each day for this gift of writing,
when with this life's hardships I am fighting.
perhaps my words assist . . . 
a wounded soul who-   this cruel world has dismissed,
oh, this birth given gift the Lord has kissed,
for words are uniting.

__________________________
September 8, 2020


Poetry/Rhyme/Reflections of Gratitude
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1284-270-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France

Written for the contest, Attitude of Gratitude
sponsor, Francine Roberts

First Place

Aesop Arizona

A bunny can hop, jump, and leap
And sit up straight whilst fast asleep 
A tortoise must climb
One step at a time
Spurred on by the Roadrunner's beep

After Seuss

For us, Doctor Seuss was way cooler than Goose
or Aesop, the Grim Brothers, or that Greek god Zeus,
Mr. Rogers by a hair, although not the Muppets, 
where Cookie and Piggy were our favourite puppets.

But we were surprised on our socially distant walk 
when this amphibian leapt up and started to talk  
or rather sing, how it’s hard to be green
plagues cut pollution but the rest was obscene.

People dying like flies while flies were doing well
and if we’ll get through it, time only would tell
for the cards had been dealt, though Trump need a bump
from the Joker or Fauci to help flatten the hump.

Then his frog skin grew blotchy and he started to cry
we tightened our facemasks, and waved a long-distance goodbye.

Rhip

R.H.I.P.
(insider trading)
Written: by Miracle Man
3’20/2020

Our minds are assaulted daily by political tune,
by infiltrating our minds with the same tired old song.
Consolidated thinking they attempt to attune,
by promising voters "stuff" their careers they prolong.

With insider information they make stock trades,
information that others aren't privileged to know.
Nothing being black and white but in varying shades,
they feast on corrupted vittles, while observing wealth grow.

Politicos think voters, insignificant squirts,
Insider trading is unlawful and a rejection.
While they got richer, many others have lost their shirts,
so for those of privilege let’s make an exception.


“We hang the petty thieves,
and appoint the great ones to public office.”
Aesop

Fallible Fate Fostered

wet wits bruised
gaunt gifts glued
callous crest cruised
vying voluptuous views
dark dances drool
punctured praises puked

wanky wastes wielded
damped dribbles processed 
pulpy pills possessed

sassy syllables etched'n
tactic trail, tensed
hanker hoisted, rent

fallible fate fostered
dripping damped clusters.
     '20:03:17:15:01

Note: Dedicated to Aesop.

The Spider and the Fly - An Aesop Fable Retold

The thread of love and understanding that grows thin with distance is very fragile 
Unless anchored well at both ends.
Just as a spider weaves her web with but a few anchors to support her beautiful creation, so must love be built.
But, as a spider lovingly starts over if her web is destroyed by whim or nature, man or beast, so must love be built.
Sometimes she begins anew in the same place.
Yet, sometimes not.

Infatuation

I

School bag, blue shirt, hair parted on the right,
Dal-rice, clock ticking away in delight;
Cycles stop, wagons with seasonal crop, 
Get to her class before the gates shut tight.

II

The obsession froths beyond the eavesdrop,
Secrecy brews a moral of Aesop;
Friends don't yet know, the fear that the eyes show,
Grows the need to shout it from the rooftop.

III

Geography is boring, the maps tow
Useless details such as where's Kosovo;
It's all pretense, the absorption intense,
But her attention sets the world aglow.

IV

The wistful heart struggles to make some sense
And accept pain at misery's expense;
Then her comment, and the motives ferment,
The surging tide sweeps over the heart's fence.

V

Evening is drunk with sunlight, the day's spent,
Menthol erases the cigarette scent;
She fades from sight, the mundanities write,
A long ride back under the clouds' intent.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Date: 24 / 10 / 2016
One of the reasons I used present tense is, for me this is a memory trapped in time, like a photograph. A day in life from simpler time.

Friendships Do Sink

Drowning in labels
not Aesop Fables
not normal retard
like being slapped hard
born an army brat
Lady was the cat
without hardly any hair
they would laugh they would stare
they called me hippie
I seemed so wimpy 
stuttered bad in school
looked on as a fool
Navy my biggest break
fluent speech I did make
head trauma
and coma
sent me right back home
no longer freedom
to my best friend
it was my end
a pedophile he called me
ladies' man he didn't see
labels and judgements made
they'll never ever fade

Saxophone

The cellar is his bleak repose,


in concert with the cockroaches and flies;


there he wipes his runny nose,


toils the day long, sunshine tries,



insinuates through rough and crumbled boards.


Lessons can't assuage his conflicts,


the bottom of the pile, his heritage affords


no more, the atmosphere restricts 



his breath. It leans against the wall,


a tarnished, dusty saxophone,


a measure of the time when he stood tall,


cadenzas blown with free and strident tone.


Author Notes



...inspired by 'Black Tambourine' by Hart Crane.

                 *********

Black Tambourine

The interest of a black man in a cellar
mark tardy judgment on the world's closed door.
Gnats toss in the shadow of a bottle,
and a roach spans a crevice in the floor.

Aesop, driven to pondering, found
heaven with the tortoise and the hare;
fox brush and sow ear top his grave
and mingling incantations on the air.

The black man, forlorn in the cellar,
wanders in some mid-kingdom, dark, that lies,
between his tambourine, stuck on the wall,
and, in Africa, a carcass quick with flies.

Rachel

Rachel

Rachel, sweetest looking peach on such a high branch
A teasing sway in her round hips, full of undiluted
gorgeous femininity
Eyes as blue as sky and a voice that is felt all over,
more like a warm breeze than sound
Aesop might recommend the lesson of the sour grapes,
but his Greek eyes never saw such a perfect
northern beauty as Rachel. He would have to
eat his words and tell his tale in reverse; how this unreachable
treasure made all the low hanging fruit taste sour

Damn!

Turn Left To Make a Right Turn

storm in the air and loud thunder
but as I recall
it was a sunny day
puffy clouds that spelled your future 
but not mine, not ours
gates locked because the truth was a fire hazard 
I said I would help
I said my pleasure
I said I was happy for you
feelings are only for the weak they said
you don’t look up enough when you’re driving
you laugh too much at the radio
and because you can’t sing
I don’t think you noticed
the sign on route 24 read ‘merge’
I wasn’t really smiling
of course I didn’t want that
that stinging feeling
bumblebees on honey suckles
it’s just that sometimes
you help another to get another
cunning foxes and Aesop told me so
I was well written
but an unused book
always claiming to myself I would be read tomorrow
now I sit in the passenger seat
my thoughts in murky moonstones
listening to your lovely terrible singing
I think you learned how to turn left in order
to make a right turn

Clerihews Fini

PEE WEE HERMAN
Thought cops wouldn’t determine,
he put himself in that popcorn box.
Maybe he should have used his socks.

HOWARD HUGHES
A world famous recluse.
Millions for planes, women and cars,
treasured most his urine in jars.

CATHERINE THE GREAT
A czarina whose needs couldn’t wait.
Rumored to have a private stable,
with horses…. if her Cossacks weren’t able.

AESOP
May his fables never stop,
true treasures among many Greek joys.
Whereas Socrates, Plato, chose educating boys.

GEORGE WASHINGTON
Add to the amazing things he’s done,
was never caught chewing a mint wreath,
while mixing politics and funky breath from wood teeth.

PONCE de LEON
I hate to tell you son,
you searched Florida for the fountain of youth.
AARP there first, how’d you miss the booth.

MARILYN MONROE
There’s a girl I wanted to know.
It could’ve worked out fine,
if Bobby and Jack didn’t head the line

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