Best Breadcrumb Poems
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
fussy squawking
seagulls talking...
Waddle walking
pavement patter-
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
Birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
Angry fussing
birds discussing
seagull cussing
“Hey, I want some!”
birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
What they do, they all know.
They breadcrumb, sugarcoat,
they love-bomb, gaslight,
or sometimes just hoover or go with the flow.
But I cry and try till the end,
losing self-reliance, going insane;
because later I don't wanna feel sorry.
I can't live with a heavy chest full of thoughts of hurting others,
I don't wanna live with a repenting memory.
I can't let my head to bow
in guilt, in fear, in sin...
thus, I never leave, I outgrow.
No Toilet Paper
My mind is boggled.
What is with the Coronavirus mania?
Why is everyone going freaking nuts over this?
From what this writer understands,
It is much like the regular flu,
Which is killing thousands as we speak, and
Hospitalizing even more. And this has been going on,
As long as I have been alive since 1952.
But this particular microbe is novel, and
Since little is known about it apparently,
People are afraid they will “get it.”
So off to Costco they all go, and
Buy as much toilet paper they are all permitted to buy,
Take it home, store or hide it with the other family treasures,
And then realize, inexplicably, that now
They are all magically immune to “getting it.”
Is that what these crazed souls are thinking?
I can think of a fate worse than “getting it.”
Worse than sports games being cancelled;
Worse than concerts and plays going on indefinite hiatus;
Worse than school classes and Sunday services finding the exit door, for now;
Worse than millions of vacations being cancelled, and
Entire industries being brought to their knees;
Worse than the world economy taking a complete nosedive
Into depression and financial paralysis;
Worse than millions of human beings dying
Horrible, agonizing deaths due to this little microbe.
No, I can think of something even worse.
Imagine going to Steak Corral - All You Can Eat,
One night soon, and you wanted your money’s worth.
So you load up your plate with:
Whiskey-laced, barbecued baked beans and garlic bread;
Two breadcrumb-laced quarter pound char-burgers,
Each smothered in a half dozen beer-breaded onion rings,
With ranch dressing dripping over them like lava.
Then you go get some more beans on french fries with
Big raw garlic chunks nestled in them, and then,
You wash it all down with three beers.
Imagine the next morning.
Imagine the horror, the horror,
Of voiding all that Steak Corral stuff, and then
Having the absolute worst possible thing
Happen to you in today’s crisis times.
No toilet paper.
Another new beginning, another major change
My feet know the rhythm, though this road is undiscovered
My toes know the feeling of wet dew still clinging to the blades of grass
Not yet baked by a summer afternoon
They know the rough soft mountain dirt
And the bounce of a carpet of prickly pine needles
The numbing cold of winters long snow
Quickly followed by the sharp sting of feeling returned
As they are roasted by the fire
My loves feet are following the familiar rhythm
Down a much different unfamiliar path
Will our feet find their way back, unlike our stubbornness
That led our hearts away
The pieces of our soul we tore apart, have not fit right for years
Sloppily thrown back together
Not realizing the catastrophic damage our haste would create
Perhaps the pieces we are leaving behind will become a breadcrumb trail
The morsels to bitter for a crows meal
I had forgiven you so long ago
My love blinds me to your every misdeed
As I lie bleeding on the floor
But it matters not what anyone might say
Because though you can rip me to shreds with a look
Your lips heal my deepest wounds
And although tonight I lie above different soil
I console myself with the knowledge that it is still a part of this great earth
Of which we are all connected
I'll close my eyes and feel your warmth next to me
I will breathe your breath as you hover above me
And I will feel you inside me
As you run through my veins with every heartbeat
Come home to me my love
For I will never be home until I'm safe in the circle of your arms
Close enough to feel the beat of your heart
And the fire of our connected soul
Your Best 2020 Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Perched on a limb
High above the ground
Sat a little birdie
Looking all around
Peering down among the people
He cried with glee
I see a tiny breadcrumb
Just waiting for me!
Soon the little birdie
Flew to the ground
Pecked at the breadcrumb
But failed to look around.
Then one of the people
With a gleam in his eye
Stomped the little birdie
And watched him die.
The moral to this story
Is always look around
And never eat your dinner
Sitting on the ground.
The Quintessential Catering Company serves only quality foods beginning with a Q
To some this seems quirky and to others quite quaint
Q foods quickly quell hunger and queasiness
Quick oats and quinoa with quick bread and quince jam are a favorite breakfast pick
Quark and Queijo quiche qualify as a quality lunch offering
Quaglia marinated in Quebec beef spice is a popular dinner choice
Quimbombo and pit roasted Quamash sides accompany this course
Queen of Puddings and some Quesitos are offered for dessert
Forget the queue quickly query Quintessential for your next Q food event
Definition of some Q food listed in poem
Quark-German farm cheese
Queijo- Portuguese cheese
Quaglia- Italian quail,
Quebec Beef Spice-a meat seasoning
Quimbombo-Spanish okra stew
Quamash- bulb of Camas lily with a taste similar to a sweet potato, but sweeter
Quesitos- Cream cheese turnovers
Queen of Puddings- a traditional British dessert, consisting of a baked, breadcrumb-thickened mixture, spread with jam and topped with meringue.
I left a breadcrumb trail back to you.
There were photos, what was left of them
after years of handling,
Hiding them in the back of my desk drawer, daily,
worn and folded, and some in pieces.
Out of sight, out of mind?
No.
And your written words --
written with a scratchy pen
because it’s all we had,
and we had all we needed.
No TV because watching you sleep
was much better.
And I dared not wake you, but why?
I supposed that when you were sleeping
That you dreamt of me and you,
Because you had a half smile sometimes.
When you fell asleep you had chosen to stay
in this world of comfort and trust,
devotion and love.
You wake and my fear creeps in.
Sleep, sweet prince, and dream of us again.
No time to think about my flaws,
short-comings, the real me –
or your plan your escape.
Thoughts I still can’t bear.
The bread crumbs carefully placed are still there.
I can follow them now, but only if
I can watch you sleep again,
dreams of me and you,
and your half smile.
Sleep, sweet prince, and dream of us again.
We Dance
“I’ll prepare the entre.”
“Ok.”
“I’ll tackle dessert.”
“Good.”
“He swings around me to reach the fridge.”
“I reach behind him to get chocolate and sugar.”
“Shrimp?”
“Yummy.”
“Chocolate pudding?”
“Perfect.”
“He stands beside me-peeling by the sink.”
We touch –
Barry White plays softly, quietly.
Egg yolks, milk, chocolate, and corn starch in a pot.
“Excuse me – oven needs to be on.”
“No problem –“
My hips move back – making room.
Oven’s preheating – burner’s on medium.
I stir chocolate velvet.
He sprinkles toasted breadcrumb.
Semi-circle round his back for glasses on the shelf.
We touch –
We smile –
We dance.
Or nearby country lanes and quaint front yards,
are the Eucalyptus Rainbow, streaked trees,
found in Southeast Asia island countries.
Two hundred twenty-foot tall tree safeguards,
its ninety-four-inch smooth orange-tint trunk,
growing in the lowlands and rainforest,
wood makes paper and cosmetics cherished.
It's pale green, red, grey, and puce, a slam dunk,
breathtaking wonderment countryside greats,
eye-catching kaleidoscopic spectrum,
arrangement stretched far away, no breadcrumb.
The advocate of nature illustrates,
through collective documents and accounts,
unthinkable odds descriptive recounts.
Our backyard
Whirlwind of summer firefly
Embers
Stirs up
From the long graves of grass
By the sprawling brooms of July 4th fireworks
Booming distant in the furled sky
Up high
The fire flies swirl to tree tops
Breadcrumb stars for swooping bats
Too many blinks to be gulped whole
Let it go
Paths split
Thunder fades to echoes
Consciousness is everywhere
So plentiful
Our heads tilt
Broken from their podiums
Like vandalized statues
Knees cracked ribs lanced
Still upright in the gallery of this summer
My wife and I
Hands freed from our marble robes
Hold together a single sparkler
Gaze to you
Private
Quiet
Uncertain future.
By Mark Miller © 08/13/2014
Random blackout seizure disorder
Of space time stairwell left to wear
Quickly flames ghastly formless suffer
Sprinkle spring showers drown
Fractal mist string melody
From Carnival's side show act of comedy
Sketch drawn skewer skits flash
Figurines in dance gown tears
Watching presence moon lit frights
Presentation scenes
Unkind behind wishful
Requisitions been denied
Head ways upon strange days
Mystery novel hero burns away
Clatter clash seas’ roaming waves
Frenzied feast flight saves
Peevish night lives delay
Badly needful daybreak
Frailty heals our surface broken scars
Trailing breadcrumb souls depart
Wandering thickets torn apart
Steam ship’s last land shadow’s
Ahead distant port horizon
Leaving lasting barren impression
A priceless road I find
dangerous game blasphemy,
Wing destiny. To my statue,
leaning forward and less
backward down helpless knees,
begging for A breadcrumb, asking
blood red wine. Quenching
thirst of the almighty to his
throne, for what we don't
know, we will learn to speak
tongue as we follow his
nameless lemon drop
in the lion's den feeding
all who starve... With thunder Nuff
Love!!!!!! God has handed
freely..... Striking, I dare not abuse
thy neighbor shooting anger
out thy hatred for the angels
scatter... A natures beast, Galour
Which has released mi from evil.... As we
come heaven's door,crawling
to meet his feet...... Tu wash dem
Clean.
Tribute tu di mi teacher, who has expanded mi mind to be A great writer; Richard Palmer..... Thanx mi friend and soul- mate for our strength will cury pon.
A lot can change in a
year or two, many ups
and downs feeling like
the colour blue. This
much is true I've always
loved you.
No matter what situation
we're in, a text row a fall
out over who? This much
is true I've always loved
you.
So when times are hard and
you contemplate what's going
through my mind. Realise every
things going to be just fine. This
much is true I've always love
you.
When you get back home I shall
not be gone! You've obviously
missed my breadcrumb clues.
This much is true I'll always
love you!
Winds of change
are fanning the flames
are fanned by the deranged.
The flames of misdirection,
the winds giving chase
(orchestrated by instruments to enrage.
Horned cheering section.)
Drones of the BlackRock, riders in holdings
park their game pieces in place,
holding and withholding payment Ace.
Get out of jail free blowhards,
influencerned by the currency,
jeering and cheering till blue in the face,
screaming Climate
Emergent Divergent Hunger Games Emergency.
Media trumpet producing endearings,
(lipstick on a Pig) for their Rat King,
(as on a White Horse)
as we grow too Sheepish to speak out, too pale
and timid to spell out their obvious course,
to vomit our rejection as diseased
as we are enslaved
under cells and convections and
tales intertwined, sanctioned throughout,
Stormgate's, leak, its Codex toothed, overreaching security breach.
Never again will we be as we were,
neVer to take flight,
or steer our own course again in our own
atmosphere.
The Mandate is clear, the Score
is reported by message board monitors
of the process, onboard,
onboarding for the Beast System processors,
riding People, herding, coral carolling
to Lucifer, sacrificial Sheeple in a transitional
Rat Race, vermen looking through peepholes.
The Piper's progress is polaroided in twain,
kodachrome rolls back the esteem, smiles of the insane, back of the head, peace sign.
Shut wide eyes rolling white for dead retina scan mouth foamed enrapture
Signature erasure brain panned for fools gold,
sold out, captured souls,(devout).
Recorders in tow, changing how the wikiwind blows,
how counts voted by Moderator,
gestapo teams, Bon Appetit, Virtual Travel, Vogue, Akinator, Mad Magazine.
(Needle in the Aperture bobbin tattoo
BuckarooBonzai glass saddles and shoes.)
Laser id suture chip sewn in diodes
of TripleBeam Barley, Wheat, Triplesec, meat...
Meta threads to breadcrumb gumshoe private dick heads, treads of
sleuth your every thought and intent, move.
Passenger monitoring, the acceptable temperature, moderate beautiful soup lukewarm chum
to taste an ode to the pasts vernacular
naked lunch humble pie shoots
in the face gruel,
heckler
of riding the storm out without Jesus, fools-Spectacular.
My gypsy, mystic, music soul dances in ellipses
Down pathways of holy manta mandalas.
Ritualistic, shamanists trace circles in painted sand,
And, I stand in boots of slavery,
Like a penitent at the altar,
Seeking entry permission at
The vulvic door of your love.
You wallow in anguished, angry fear,
Hungering with your eyes.
the rosey velvet treasure clutched
Like crumbled heart-shaped chocolate dreams-
Of Valentine's Days forgotten.
You never even got a card.
It still hurts you deep inside;
Down in your "long ago".
Leaving teardrops like a breadcrumb trail,
My robber's feet run rampant
Trampling, as I scamper,
The Lilacs left before your door.
When you relent from your sorrow;
Stop paying interest on debts you don't owe,
You'll find me at the local pool-hall
Shooting darts and talking low,
On the pay phone in the back.