Best Bowls Poems
Twenty-one years, a simmering stew,
Of words, of dreams, of voices true.
Each line a spice, each verse a song,
A place where poets all belong.
From first faint rhyme in two thousand five,
To endless stanzas keeping art alive,
You stirred the soup with love and cheer,
And fed our hearts year after year.
We sip your broths of joy and pain,
We taste the sunshine, we taste the rain.
Each poem a spoonful, tender and bright,
A feast for souls, a spark of light.
So here’s to bowls, twenty-one times stirred,
To every whispered, spoken, written word.
May laughter, rhyme, and stories stay,
In PoetrySoup — forever, hooray!
Happy 21st Anniversary Poetry Soup
With love from Natasha Ilyas
Sir Francis Drake was playing bowls
One day upon The Hoe,
And when the Spanish fleet appeared
He didn’t want to know.
He calmly finished playing bowls
(We don’t know if he won),
But then he fought and proved his skill,
The Spanish on the run.
*The Hoe is a place
With a thin and outstretched arm,
eyes agape with none it stares,
drained of all but a beating heart,
she hopes a farthing unsure to come,
Her hands are empty, her tummy complains,
worries soon washed aside when it rains,
she rushes under the bridge she calls home,
but slaps and shouts send her back out,
Drenched and delirious, she's hoping again,
against the great odds of a heavy rain,
fate kind this once, she gets her some bread,
and thereafter deemed to have earned her bed,
But time and sleep cannot quench hunger,
and she wakes and roams till it is supper,
empty bowls and harsh reality once more greet her,
she goes back to sleep and dream of dinner.
When a mallet strikes a crystal bowl
It causes vibrations to penetrate the mind and enter the spirit
A magical power that
wipes away worry and pain
as mystic vibes touch the soul - enlightening as well as healing
The Buddha nature is in us all
as we strive for the truths we need
Let the sounds carry you to a place
Where fear and anxiety do not exist
Where all sounds blend into one sound
Om
I have a set of mixing bowls
handed down from my Grandmother.
There are four bowls in the set
that nest within each other.
The bowls she gave into my care,
have a long history to tell.
I will try to share some of it with you
I hope I tell it well.
The smallest bowl held fruits and nuts
and a varied array of spices.
Used and added to the mixes
of cookies and candies to delight us.
The next bowl size was used at breakfast
for scrambling the eggs.
Or for placing leftovers in
to use another day.
The third bowl she always used
for mixing up cake batters.
Birthdays, Easter or just because.
If she could bake, the occasion didn’t matter.
The biggest bowl was very large
And used mainly for dough to rise.
Nothing made the home smell better,
than fresh bread baking before our eyes.
Thus ends the tale of the mixing bowls
or maybe not all together.
For I plan to hand them down someday
to one of my granddaughters.
It never seemed enough when Mom got done
with popping our best snack food; since our goal
was not to miss the shows, how fast we'd run
during the commercials to refill each bowl!
An oldie
For L. Milton Hankins' YOUR BEST FOUR-LINE LIGHT VERSE, NO. 2 Poetry Contest
Copyright 2014
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
POETIC LYRICS BY THOMAS LAM HSI (ANDRESS)
Dedicated to ALL WORLDS CREATED BY THE 'TRUEST...FIRST...LAST...
AND ONLY SOURCE OF LIFE---WHO CREATED ALL 'SO-CALLED' Gods!'
Take...an-orig-inal...RECIPE-FOR-SUC-CESS...an-what/you-get
IS-A/SLAUGH-TER...OF-LAUGHS!
Take...an-orig-inal...RECIPE-FOR-SUC-CESS...an-what/you-get
IS-A/SLAUGH-TER...OF-LAUGHS!
From-the/EAST...to-the/WEST...IS-A/PURE-MIXING/BOWL!
And...from-the/WEST...to-the/EAST...IS-A/CO-MING-LING
OF-DING-A-LINGS!
From-the/EAST...to-the/WEST...IS-A/PURE-MIXING/BOWL!
And...from-the/WEST...to-the/EAST...IS-A/CO-MING-LING
OF-DING-A-LINGS!
IT'S-A/PURE...JUG-GLING...OF/POI-BOWLS-'n-SWEET-SEA/WEED!
IT'S-A/PURE...JUG-GLING...OF/POI-BOWLS-'n-SWEET-SEA/WEED!
A Tropical Storming...UNDER-HOT/FLASHES-AND/ROYAL-TEAS!
A Tropical Storming...UNDER-HOT/FLASHES-AND/ROYAL-TEAS!
It's...ARTHUR/AND-HIS/WHITE-NIGHTS...and/PRINCE-and-PRINCESSES!
It's...ARTHUR/AND-HIS/WHITE-NIGHTS...and/PRINCE-and-PRINCESSES!
FROM-AN/ISLE-OF/TROPICS...TO-A/EUROPEAN/MIXING-BOWL!
FROM-AN/ISLE-OF/TROPICS...TO-A/EUROPEAN/MIXING-BOWL!
A-European/comedy...OF-FIRST/CLASS-ASSES...
THAT'S...A-EUROPEAN/COMEDY...OF-FIRST/CLASS-ASSES!
A-European/comedy...OF-FIRST/CLASS-ASSES...
THAT'S...A-EUROPEAN/COMEDY...OF-FIRST/CLASS-ASSES!
A-European/comedy...OF-FIRST/CLASS-ASSES...
THAT'S...A-EUROPEAN/COMEDY...OF-FIRST/CLASS-ASSES!
Poet's Own Note:
Title songs to an original screenplay by Thomas Lam Hsi (Andress)!
In the midst of the angels arose
Smoke of incense from golden bowls
Scent of perfume so sweet
Drifting around the throne seat
Seat of the Lamb who was slain
Forgiving, loving
For His death
Who is not to be blamed
What is the meaning of the golden bowls
From which the sweet perfume of incense arose
The answer is written in Revelation 5:8
The prayers of the saints is what it states
Whether alive or met our fate
God hears, keeps our prayers
Pray, it is never too late
Pray for loved ones, enemies, leaders on earth
Even for those who have not yet seen birth
For God remembers prayers for they have worth
Prayers of praise, thanks, sadness, weeping
Prayers are forever in safe keeping
When death has come and taken us away
Our prayers in the golden bowls will stay
written June 16, 2017
Music is God
and songs worship
Music.
In appreciation of the
composers skills
one might look to
God for inspiration.
False Gods collaborate
throught
the concentration of plagiarism
they look to speak to many
and gather the attention of all
in worship of both
Music and song
they structure
melonic hamonies
in music intro,
lyric chourus and in
lyric prechorus
with sounds that overlap the other
that combine both treble and bass
sounds structure
sequences
with pitches that introduce and reintroduce
both verse and chorus.
lovers of bass often sooth the foreground sound
by having deep tones that neither moves
the groove or
harmony.
it often draws both sounds together
by
meeting the strings, woodwinds
and percussion in
combination
that meets to sound as one
and moves away
and becomes the regular
sound of the song.
Often said the different parts of
a song tells you when the song
began and when it will end.
e cosi cha le persone
si incontrano e si
innamorano
Gaffaz's largest bowl holds twenty cups of flour
she has six of the same size.
the recipe she needs asks for 60 cups
how many bowls of the same size
wil Gaffaz need if the recipe ask for 120 cups?
Sassy was a hungry girl when she first arrive
eating every scrap of food as if to survive
Genghis and Kublia surprise to watch her eat
guarding their bowls so their food she wouldn't sneak
Genghis bowl is blue the other two cream
the food inside them is exactly the same
Now that it's been awhile Sassy is more clam
she'll steal from the boys knowing it is wrong
Sassy will eat her food than go on the move
standing tall behind the boys taking bites of their food
Now Kublia will eat his meals but Genghis waits awhile
Genghis goes to the empty bowls and licks them with a growl
His bowl is full and I must guard it or nothing he will eat
I place a little into an empty bowl and Genghis thinks it sweet
He slowly eats while Sassy and Kublia think they been wrong
Genghis is eating out of their bowl where he does not belong
Sassy whines for food and Kublia wants more
I put a little in empty bowls they wag their tails, Score!
Genghis gently eats I add food bit by bit
finally he finishes and ends it with a lick
Three doggy bowls and three silly dogs
One fussy eater and two little hogs
The meal not complete until they eat their treat
For a jerky treat is like getting a candy sweet.
My passion is love,
anger, sorrow and hate.
I accept my mission.
I will be on this journey till it ends or it ends me.
I will abuse all of my senses to the fullest degree.
I will raise every bar to the bottom of every glass.
I'll keep shaving my face and wiping the ...... off my ass.
Marianne Moore lawn 'BOWLS'
O O
° O
O
O
©
| \ _O
/\
by Michaelw1two
One's unknown is comforting
once life’s breath escapes along
that road now just hidden path,
we walked upon draped arm and arm
first turn around in country,
me and my mates chose port Vung Tau
the wind was free unlike the fees
so charged to war's dead wrong.
That our youth ran before us
in brooding silence tried to warn
US there is danger in our words meanings,
the twists and turns
truth espied by poison dwarf;
those radar eyes and listening ear
of careful speak and hands grasp
passed word to each, persevere.
Young men you'll never meet
took words to heart and action true
few escaped with life and limb,
and minds hidden to this very day
along their way they became better men
now insured a future brave
they left the past in turmoil’s pact,
gave their mark in blood.
With war began fellowship,
one no different than those before
its tastes passed to men
who came to knock on that closed door
it opens to ones who quest
for meanings depth and life's accords
by simple conversation of thought
and action in a play of words.
I reach to touch the moments passed
many times and left long ago
thirst for the friendship of survival,
and the mark of brotherhood
for trust never given, a shot never taken,
lives I have forsaken
forgive a beggar begging;
as bells toll I sup from Seven Bowls.
Jan 2010
Cats At Their Bowls Lapping
This time there’s a postscript:
“If ever I cook dinner for you,
it will be Coquilles St. Jacques
and Jefferson Davis Pie.”
Imagine Angela,
after all these years,
rising and gliding
to check on my pie,
wouldn’t that be something?
Angela, come to Chicago,
and bring all of your cats.
I’ll watch those cats
in your lap napping,
you in my lap napping,
the cats at their bowls lapping,
and I in my chair laughing.
Angela, bring all of your cats
and come to Chicago
to make Coquilles St. Jacques
and Jefferson Davis Pie.
Donal Mahoney
~all that is gleaned seldom shines as rusted is the brass bowl~
7/25/22
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022