Best Batten Poems
Twas the night before Christmas and I was a gasp
at the rumors that filled me with an odious fright.
For Santa Claus was now tired of working for free
and would be harvesting organs well into the night.
He would be looking for kidneys, livers and hearts
as well as others too numerous to mention.
All this was designed to lower his cost of production
and help his Elves with their healthcare and pension.
The reporters reported the disheartening news
that dear Santa had put an end to holiday cheer.
And to lock all our windows and batten the doors
to prevent a Christmas which could end only in tears.
Now the Media's record of telling the truth
was often wrong and extremely spotty at best.
So I had faith in Saint Nick and his message of hope
and would not give in to the lies they address.
So I fell into slumber to awake Christmas morning
and put my trust in the jolly old Elf.
But awoke latter that night when the stomping of hooves
caused several books to fall from the shelf.
Quickly grabbing a candle... I flew down the stairs
to see my tree laden with presents and toys.
As dear Santa had come through with his usual flair
and my trepidation turned to wonder and joy.
So I opened a window and peered through the night
and spotted the old Elf at the head of his sleigh.
I heard him yell from afar as he drove out of sight,
'You should rest in bed for most of the day.'
I pondered his point... unsure what he meant
as my body began to shimmy and shiver.
And as sure as the bells that would ring Christmas morn...
that fat bastard had taken half of my liver.
So as I lay in the bed and considered my stress
and the reason for my tension and plight.
But put it aside... when I realized by giving an organ
I put the spirit of Christmas in a more favorable light.
The End
Night before Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Date: Nov 29/2019
Categories:
batten, christmas, funny, holiday,
Form:
Rhyme
I come to you with humble thanks for all that you’ve delivered,
For Englishmen to walk the planks and for timbers left unshivered.
I thank you for a glassy sea and the steady blowing breeze,
For giving all these things to me without making me say please.
And I thank you for the horizon where sea and sky do meet,
For every new sun that I watch risin’ is a day of fate I’ll cheat.
It is my hope dear loving Lord that I can bring you pleasure,
By throwing someone overboard and stealing all their treasure.
And when I navigate at night you send the northern star,
I feel then that I’m alright and it’s to you that I’ll say ARRR.
There’s a lesson that some people teach about the carrying that you do,
But I knew that the footprints on the beach must have belonged to you.
‘Cause I got a peg and there’s no doubt it would’ve got stuck into the sand.
I couldn’t have pulled myself back out because I got this hook for one hand.
I’d like to see you but by some quirk my good eye got covered by my patch,
I know that I’m just salvage work and it’s you who’ll batten down my hatch.
So Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of rum and raise the Jolly Roger to the sky,
And praise Him from whom blessings come the one who reigns on high.
For I am grateful for the gifts that you have granted me,
A pirate ship that is so swift and the blue green open sea.
Categories:
batten, funny, sea, me, sea,
Form:
Light Verse
among you and I and among us all
remains a feeling of shallow intoxication
that seems to play on and on and on in our respective heads
as everyone important to us has gone on to some beautiful destiny
I sit here amongst the caucasion sleeves of paper on the floor of my chamber
the numbness of the so called "art" on the radio
mommy, I have done it
as the winter approaches, we batten down ourselves for the impending darkness
snow ensconces the dull tundra of all the acres
understandably blundered by the wings of burden and shame
I toil with the literature of my past and the science of my future
I thought I found you at least a dozen times, but you weren't you
daddy, throw another log on the fire
is there mercy in this chaos and this uncertainty?
will I ever retain escape velocity and leave this earth?
I must leave this place and find sanctity elsewhere
no doctor revive me, no professional conversationalists, please.
mommy, daddy, take me home.
the shoreline thunders, with the red clay -- imitating dover
I stare down at the mercurial wash of the crushing tides
special sequins rain down into the fundy sea below
I shall wake the wight inside of me
and destroy the pain inside of thee.
mommy, daddy -- rape the teeth from within my head
to paint a better picture of the son you thought you knew
brother, I miss you and your insolent charm.
but little monster, I think I will stay for you.
Categories:
batten, conflict, depression, niece, suicide,
Form:
Blank verse
The Captain bellowed out the order,
soon after the midnight bell;
He said, "batten down the hatches boys,
we're in for a night a hell.
Seems storm force winds were brewin,
a Nor-easter in all it's might;
Sweeping down hard from Labrador,
with no shelter in plain sight.
The Deckies scrambled with precision,
and gave each dog an extra heave;
And never waivered from their duties,
amidst the pounding seas.
The water seeped in where ere it could,
and the cookie stored the mess away;
We all silently knew one truth,
there be no last meal this day.
The skipper yelled, "Hard into er",
as the wheelsman yanked the helm around;
The Mate watched into the blackness,
so no rogue wave would bring us down.
She blew herself out by mornin,
and ragin seas became gentle rolls;
And we silently gave thanks at breakfast,
for we never lost one soul.
Categories:
batten, adventure, fear,
Form:
Ballad
FLEEING IRMA
spotlight moon, full, like an Old Testament cloud, leading
Floridians forth, not into the desert, but away from the wrath
of Irma. bumper to bumper, neighbors from pilot to caboose,
illuminated in each other’s flood beams. testiness and pride
put aside, as fleeing cars, in camaraderie, brave the calm
before the storm. like the Israelites, they leave behind the
homes they know, put themselves in the hands of God. many
have family and friends north of their beloved peninsula,
an unintended visit, a warm haven, not a picnic nor a vacation,
but each pulls themselves up, for our Southern neighbors
are not of the craven sort. those who choose to live near the sea,
with its beauty and fortitude, know how to batten down the hatches.
hammocks left behind will tangle, and hug palm trees, suffering
the loss of their occupants. hotels, with never ending vacationers,
takes a much needed rest. God believes in rest, sometimes
a seven year sabbath, even when the soul forgets its place. we
pray, even north of the path, in stillness, we must, in gratitude,
never taking for granted, lest we too find ourselves seeking solace
elsewhere. godspeed our tanned Peninsula friends. godspeed
and bless, with safety, tenacity, and love as we reel you in.
9/8/2017
Categories:
batten, car, people, religious, storm,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Written: October 21, 2023, For Mohan Chutani Minichu Dream Contest
______________________________
Orchards in glowing pink
dream blossoms swung in a tone of crimson pattern
nectar drink
would dare to dream
orchid bow bring bright breath batten
wind stream!
ghost chime
the moon may learn
climb!!
orchards in glowing pink
orchid bow bring bright breath batten
climb!!
Categories:
batten, analogy, appreciation, dream,
Form:
Rhyme
Stop present time now!
Let us go no further.
Let's enjoy the now, somehow.
Muses and we, sisters and brothers.
Batten down the hatches on reality.
Only stars dance, we staunchly state.
Reality has no maternity,
We slammed it dead at the front gate.
Of only insignificance, can we pen?
Strange murmurings of only moons
and stars.
Reality to die slowly in a dark house
of busy pens?
Of that, dare not your soul ever move
nor start.
This world of writing, utterly unreal.
Where imagery is some despotic
king?P
And long words you must look up
to somehow beauty reveal?
To then bow low and kiss a poet's
ring?
September 13, 2020
8:30 pm PST
Categories:
batten, feelings, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Batten down the hatches –
A storm is on its way.
Don’t know when it’s comin’
Or how long it’s gonna stay.
Every market’s crowded –
People gathering supplies.
No one wants to be caught short
Or taken by surprise.
Plans are being canceled,
Dates all rearranged –
Phones and laptops busy as
New info is exchanged.
We’re ready for the tempest –
We’ve got flashlights, candles, matches.
I’m prepared to do some battening,
But what the hell are hatches?
Categories:
batten, life, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Said the indigenous people of their land,
"Our Lord,
Since time started we lived here,
before prophets and their offsprings.
We built sanctuaries and prayer houses.
Our Lord,
today like never before,
we are under siege
as suffering invades our homes,
steal our sons,
silently rape our daughters,
and imprisons our men.
Our Lord,
when will you end this siege,
this carnage,
this destruction,
this inhumanity.
Stop the collective effort by mighty nations
to suppress our people.
Do we not show solitude in prayer to you?"
Do we not show humility,
to those who seek our brotherly feelings?
Yet these evil outbursts and suppressing efforts to batten us down
keep us enslaved within new walls in our lands,
of ancient times,
which we had never forsaken.
Our Lord,
Four thousand years back,
we took in their father Abraham,
treated him with love and kindness in our homes
and when he wandered off,
raised his children as ours.
Do you not see how they repay us?
With evil upon evil,
Our Lord,
We beseech thee,
free Palestine and the Palestinian people from this siege.
© Al. Juman The "said" Poet 6/29/2016
-'
-,
It is not my intention
to discriminate against anyone
by race, sex or religion
I write human err
Categories:
batten, abuse, evil, irony, passion,
Form:
Didactic
Return to heavy, layered clothes
Purple lips and frozen toes
One last breath before it snows
Loathsome precipitation
The land now strewn with slippery patches
Bye the wood stove, extra matches
Time to batten down the hatches
Human hibernation
The months meander, oh so slow
The cold impedes the rivers flow
The flowers weep, and wait to grow
I should be on vacation
There is some good, I do suppose
Snow topped trees in splendid rows
And all mosquitoes surely froze
Yet I'm filled with anticipation
For summer reveals my sunny side
I rub my eyes and step outside
To walk bare foot through turning tide
Still six more months of frustration
Categories:
batten, angst, nature, seasons,
Form:
Rhyme
I always wonder in a philosophical way
Who I am? Does God have my dossier?
I exist, of this I am sure
The IRS calls yearly asking for more
I dreamed of being Poet and King
Seems one has to be Royal to wear that ring
The purpose of life, well seems so unsure
A night out with me though, is never a bore
I have painted towns red, as I drowned in last calls
I always had company, cute lasses and dolls
Life is full of twists and turns
There is no map as we are led to the urn
I was quite surprised, at this time in my life
To find out my fate is to bring you all strife
So batten the windows
And board up your doors
For I am full of wind and hot air
I shall come from the sea and I am on a tear
I am Arthur, no poet or King
I am the Hurricane, and its hell that I bring
July 4. 2014, Arthur became a Category 2 hurricane Thursday evening. The U.S. National Hurricane Center predicted it would swipe the coast early Friday with winds of up to 136 km/h.
Categories:
batten, humorous, water, weather, wind,
Form:
Light Verse
Are we ready for what’s to come?
Will we know how to behave?
Never before in human history has there been such disruption. It was once a much simpler place. No more. The future is arriving faster than ever before.
Gia now has a neural net the brain is coming alive.
Things are changing at such a clip not like anything seen before. Things will never be the same.
Computers that once filled rooms are now held in the palm of our hands. Not too many years from now they’ll be cursing through our veins.
Nanotechnology, biotechnology, computer technology exploding at such a pace, soon enough, the internet will be connected to our face.
We’ll all be part of the global brain, have instant access to all the knowledge mankind has thus far obtained. Soon, artificial intelligence will join us where we live, things will never be the same. Machines will build machines smarter all the time. Where we go after all this may drive us insane.
Some say we’ll build virtual worlds every bit as real, and designed them to meet our every need, absolutely ideal. No one knows for sure which way all this will go.
I suggest you batten down the hatches though, it’s going to be quite the show.
Categories:
batten, art,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Hurricane Matthew is lurking like a message from the Devil.
It is sinister and daunting, putting millions in peril.
The forces of nature are giving us an ominous hello,
Putting on an enormous and frightening show.
This is a sobering reminder of our fragile mortality.
We pray that disaster won’t be a sad reality.
You have to respect the size of this monster storm.
Batten down the hatches, and watch it perform!
Categories:
batten, natural disasters,
Form:
Rhyme
Buzzing rail buggies
spinning paddled tires beating
out a gritty wake feather
on sand dune
deliberation over alcohol burning
engines being better than gas
everyone with lit cigarette in hand
aroma of tobacco with salt launching
forth from frothy waves
forms low misty curtains
a soft silty beach records a tiny footprint
seagulls honking, hovering like sound buoy's
a large black image emerges from the ocean
it could be a friendly sea monster
"it's grandpa" in a wet suit he wore
more often than a coat and tie
bringing his grandchildren treasure from Atlantis
in abalone shell purses over flowing with sand dollars
I could be all day at the boardwalk arcade
with this haul he brought in
there would be Salmon smoked and filleted
for Thanksgiving dinner
all the cousins huddled together in the family room
with 3 bay windows on the cliff
verging on the muffled sea
countered by a fireplace and couches
This painting of a tempest tossed ship with mast, less sail,
over the mantel
brush stroked by some nameless prophetic flea market artist
over the hum of conversation, laughter
and cacophony of china and crystal
a hushed deep voice filled
my chest like a distant fog horn blew
"These are days of calm, my boy....... enjoy them!"
Categories:
batten, appreciation, beach, family,
Form:
Free verse
( BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES )
Battin down the hatches, the clouds are moving in in patches.
The sky is darkening up, and the wind is moving trees in batches.
The animals are looking up, they dont like what they see.
The hair on their bodies are standing up, on a different degree.
The lightning is very bright, and the thunder makes you jump.
The rain it pours on the road, and the hail gathers in a clump.
People they run to take cover, as the hail hits their head.
The weatherman called for sunny skies, is simply what they said.
The tempatures cools and goosebumps they appear.
Hoping that there are no tornadoes, is what everyone will fear.
Grab the raincoat and slosh through the puddles.
Grab your friend and hold them close, as both of you must huddle.
Its that season for the storms, and looking up at the sky.
Its always quite normal, as eating apple pie.
Have candles ready, and a box of tempernate matches.
Get ready for the storm right now, and battin down the hatches.
Categories:
batten, weather,
Form:
Rhyme