le' tree, le' tree.
drop an apple to me.
le' tree, le' tree.
knock my head with a branch tree, please.
please?
pretty please?
with a cherry on top.
le' bush, le' bush.
pick a berry for me.
le' bush, le' bush.
blackberries or blue? you choose.
blackberries, strawberries, bananas count too!
le' tree gave me an orange,
le' bush picked a banana.
the both rhyme to me, I think.
no raspberries, no raspberries, they stinky to me.
no pears, no pears, they taste bad to me,
to le' tree, I plea.
one banana, two banana, three banana, four
monkey does a soft shoe, and skips out the side room door
orangutan rolls his brown eyes at the lively monkey
mortal enemies from the Amazon, they rarely agree
Behold:
Banana flavored ice cream.
You thought you knew what creaminess could be…
Toss that banana peel into the air with joy like a graduation cap.
And you won’t slip except into something flavorful.
You thought banana could be split?
That was before you knew about that mellowness can be all in one.
And even banana bread can’t compare to that creamy lusciousness.
Brought to you by:
The Hidden Fruit.
venture past steep clay hills to situate the honeycombed vale
with hands swaying beneath green satin cloaks in our banana patch
fingers yellow varnished by a tropical sun will set sail
bunches bound for markets in towns we've known, before monkey gangs snatch
Time for Dessert - Acrostic Challenge 2 Poetry Contest
Andrea Dietrich
Batter takes the banana pitches,
And swings for some yogurt and butter.
Nuts and raisins are in the field,
As a strike of milk and sugar shouts.
Next batter up hits the sweet spot,
Anxiously, the team of players rises.
Bake and shake around the bases.
Riches and the pitches of Chiquita’s,
Enjoying the score, slices, and strikes,
As the savory loaf rises in the oven.
Delightment of a win moments away.
Today was the day to harvest a big organic banana bunch
When they begin to ripen in three days or so
Then it's time to devour some for a nutritious lunch
A banana tree bears bunches
of fat yellow legs,
clusters of pendular limbs
known as hands.
Such contradictions
serve to push our minds
out of their crates.
Try not to ponder too much
on fully thawed tarantulas
and small venomous snakes.
Feel free to postulate
how quickly life begins green
by turning yellow,
until seemingly overnight
a mottled jaundice
heralds an unpleasant end.
Most mature bananas bend
in like manner,
and could give rise to thoughts
of Pyrone’s disease.
Banana enlightenment is rare,
some may awaken
clutching at a pulsating plantain
only to have nirvana slip away
as time unpeels
a more humdrum reality.
For best results
potassium yourself daily.
i will go out with a bang here
give me maple syrup and vanilla bean paste
and this continues into the weekend
as a confused barista takes my order
i drink the vanilla mocha in the car
as i drive us over one hundred kilometres
with a boatload of sausages and pies
and scotch eggs
i believe in a cruel God, who has created me in his likeness
i feel the primeval slime within me
i was born from the vileness of some germ or base atom
i believe that an honest man is a jeering buffoon
i take the last gurgling rasp of the beverage;
i have become a deliberate mess
Sit down. That is to say, have a seat.
On oatcakes, where such treats bide,
knowing not, they'll soon be inside.
When a walnut and banana meet,
that is the time for us to eat.
I like to give pursuit.
Can't make it too easy for you.
Catch me if you can.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Banana socks,
There is no more in stock,
The name gave me a shock,
So I bumped into a rock.
Ketchup shoes,
I have no time to lose,
This thing gave me a bruise,
I hate my ketchup shoes.
Hot dog sun-hat,
Everybody likes that,
It looks good on my cat,
It takes it off on the mat.
Cheetos headband,
It fell on the sand,
It is very grand,
You can't buy it you can't
prime yellow matures ochre
spongy bananas
mottled flesh skinned, battered, baked
banana karma
dusted with walnuts
raised afresh
crunch
The not so great debate in America today
Is that even though liberal people fear for their lives
They dare not violate the progressive ethos
Of victim, ie. criminal, first,
And so argue round and round
That everything is okay and only getting better.
The irony of course is this obfuscation
And soft-core tyranny is actually illiberal.
But words today no longer matter
Labels being fungible
On the slippery slope of good intentions.
Well then, Hell it is, illiberal or not,
“Blue, blue, electric blue
Is the color of my room
Where I will live”
In rot with you.
(8/12/25)
Monkeys - start on your typewriters now.
I need you to work fast - and how.
There is nothing more pressing than a
contest deadline - no time for a banana.
Now I
want to be a banana
plant, swinging in the wind,
free from the knots of debt.
The shards of dreams won’t wound
me again. Ever. I’ll never be hunted
by the loan sharks with serrated teeth. The
weevil thought cannot perforate the corm of my peace.
Away from the waves of suicide, I’ll live–listening to the
Asian koel. I can decipher that song. Someone may drop
nutritious love into my heart; my roots will be wet
with kindness. My cigar leaf can grow straight
into the light. The blossoming of
altruism will come out, opening my
skull– budding. My end is made
serene- calm, by the cogitation
of my fruitful
e
x
i
s
t
e
n
c
e.
*First published in Native Skin.
*Reprinted in The Literary Hatchet.
*Poetry Nook Weekly Contest Winner.
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