Best Burners Poems
Summer Cooking
Its summer time you know what that means,
We move the grill out for all to see.
Stainless Steel shining in the sun,
Five burners! Yea that’s the one!
Then the family comes over and the heat is on
You’re thinking to yourself “this is not fun”
Sweat is pouring down and rolling in your eyes,
And the smoke rises up to the sky.
Burgers and hot dogs fly off the grill,
You think to yourself when will they be fill?
Summer cooking in the hot sun,
I can’t wait until winter comes.
JSergi
7/4/2018
I was dancing and prancing
And singing whooped Dee Dee
Not realizing I was not alone
Until he opened his shirt to me
He threw out the mayo, some jam and some jelly, a real hoot.
I caught the chocolate milk in midair, he was dancing up a toot.
He laughed and winked and some ice fell down his crushed ice shoot
He was a rascal, a scoundrel and a womanizer to boot.
I have never seen a dishwasher who can move like you
he said holding out his hands.
The oven, his furious ex, reddened her burners and threw out some pots and pans.
We laughed and we swirled and we boogied and we dipped.
She threw out ovenware but The frig and I ducked every one.
I shut his door, so we could dance up a storm.
Refrigerator boogie was so exciting and fun!
Dishwashers are reputed to be the best dancers around,
And I was confident as we twirled, we were breaking brand new ground
The ovens burners were blood red now, the kitchen was like a Sauna.
I blew him a kiss and whirled away giving him back to his ex, so sound.
As they trotted through the the kitchen, laughing, their sensors lit,
I danced around them with a loud dishwasher's whoop Dee Dee
Now whenever the three of us decide to liven the kitchen a bit,
We dance cheek to cheek, and throw sauce pans, the wild three!
Lifelong series, proliferation of dreams
Procrastination pushes cans to rear shelf
Crushed pineapple replaces peaches and creams
Depleted pantry unenvisioned of self
Back burners overwrought iron pans of sin
Awaiting an opener, woman of tin
Lifelong series, ambitions, intended plans
Plentiful in could haves, instead, dented cans
Written: 1/1/2018
Contest: Dented Cans
Hosted by: John lawless
I’m cool, warmed up, loose. I’m gonna crack this ball straight down the fairway
all the way to the white post, clean and straight. Yeah.
I’m the king of the worm burners, oh, no, I’m the baddest Tiger of these
here woods. Ha ha, not bad, I launched that there rocket clean
into that oak, missed my forehead, missed my partner, never you mind.
I’m out on the fairway now.
I’m cool, warmed up, loose. Got my eye on the ball.
King of Zen. Just swing and … yeah. Okay.
I’m King of the beach blanket beee-ing go. Okayyy. No problem. Golf is about practice
and practice make perfect. Okay, closed my eyes there.
Splash? Splash it is.
Okay, I’m Chipping King, just smack that ball into that little ole hole.
God’s be with me. Whew.
I’m the man. Ain’t I the man? Blow me a-way!
It’s all won on the greens guys. Ain’t I the King? Didn’t I just chip right in? Ever see
anything like that before? MMMhmm. You on for five on the next hole?
The man looked at his twinkle
Shucks what's become of me
I used to rise and shine
Now all i do is pee
Yoda said, "Size doesn't matter
Saying take a look at me
I have the force behind me"
But still I am so twee
"Come close and feel the force
Around us, you and me".
"Everywhere the fire" Said I
Looking down hopefully
Guess it hasn't reached that far
Will stoke the burners well
"Do or do not, there is no try"
Are the words that Yoda tells
So next time when in the loo
Trying to raise a smile
Remembering what yoda has
I outdo him by a mile.
The fire burns,
tempestuous rain raging,
stokes, fires spirit;
a leaping energy,
after burners thrusting in flight;
a searing phantasm.
Fire phantasms,
like phosphorous, burns.
It becomes in its flight,
An angry dragon, raging.
Such is the spirit
of energy.
When you see a spirit,
unlike a phantasm;
pure energy,
in its burning;
does not rage,
while in flight.
The cosmic flight
of a sacred spirit,
need not rage.
The phantasm,
Fueled by fear, burns;
it’s fickle energy.
A sacred souls energy,
in its spirit flight,
will brightly burn,
it’s the power of such a spirit.
Recognize a phantasm
by its dark energy rage.
Onward raging,
in its miserable flight;
the foolish phantasms
are dirty energy;
unlike sacred spirits;
they have a cold and dark burn.
Burn your rage, you foolish phantasms.
The sacred energy, of spirits is golden.
Spirits in their joyous flight, have a benevolent burning.
G;Geico commercials B;(you knew this was coming); Billy Mays commercials U;
hour long imfomercials
G;Big, juicy homemade hamburgers B;White Castle belly burners
G; Best fast food place;by far;All American, Massapequa N.Y. (check it on web-
always, and rightfully rated number one B-white Castles (ugh;belly burners!)
G; Music played with syyle and heart B; Gangster rap/ Disco
G;Family gatherings B;Alone in a dingy room
G;A nice warm shower B; Having no showerhead
G;Staring at TV test patterns for hours (told ya I was weird) B; Gamey game
shows
G;A nice warm sunny day B;Heavy rain and your roof leaks
G;Creativity B;Malicious destruction(other than a Billy Mays tape)
G;Cooking and eating with family /and/or friends B;Alone with a bag of pretzels
G;Enjoying swimming at the beach or pool B;finding a great white shark in your
pool
G;Words of love and encouragement B;Mean words of anger/hate
G;Good poetry B;My poetry usually
G;Peaceful sleep all through the night B;Cronic insomnia U;Being awake for 8
days (as I too well know...one's mind turns into oatmeal)
G;a love of beauty B;Loving your own beauty
G;swiss or cheddar cheese B;Limberger cheese U;Liederkranz (ugh! clear the
house!!)
G;A full refrigerator (including Tootsie rolls) B;A rerigerator full of food expired 6
months ago, and now home to strange new species
G;Catching a mouse B;doing the same, but with your teeth
G;Courteous drivers B;New Jersey drivers
G;Religious faith B; Fundamentalist extremists (of any religion)
G;Room deodorizer. B;Dirty unwashed socks your air deodorizer
G;A trusting marriage B;A busting marriage
G;Acoustic guitars B; Acoustic torpedoes
G;M&Ms B;BBs
G;good books used as tools B;Mediocre books by fools
G;Cleavage B;Seepage
G;Being in a band onstage B;Overfilled audiences leading to rage
G;Jessica Simpson's looks B;Jessica Simpson's mental acumen
G;Eddie Murphy on stage or screen B;Eddie Murphy in real life (I know!)
G;Being loved and adored B;Being lonely and too bored
G;Some money in your pocket B;Your finger in a socket
G;For Bush to get a Lobotomy B; News of Bush's colonoscopy
Enough for now folks. Have a painless day!
What do I want to write?
I will write about whatever the h I want to write
Why do you feel like you have to write about
Christmas on Christmas Day?
I will write about dreams
Do you believe in dreams?
No
Dreams are for dreamers
Because everything you do is dictated by the Man - God
You cannot do, say anything that
if He doesn't want you to do it
you can't do it
I want to start things long ago
But can I start?
No
He doesn't want me to start it
Everything has a time - its time
If if it's not the right time
You can't do it
So what are dreams good for?
They motivate you
They put things in the back burners
- in the back of your mind
That yes, you should get to it
When are dreams fulfilled?
When the Man upstairs fulfills ya
And that could be today
tomorrow, who knows?
Who is the Boss?
It's certainly not you
You are not the boss
I am not the boss
No one is the boss - except Him
He dictates it
And don't you forget it
Got to tell you a story
I know this one girl
Who got promoted so quick
Until one day she thinks she is King
Because that was what I thought
When I saw the way she treated the other person
And the next day, guess what?
She was no longer running the show
She did something she was not supposed to
And get canned
So you see?
God can promote you
And He can demote you
Don't think you can run the show
Don't let your head get all wired
And forget
Only HE - can run the show
Whose show is it?
His
You are only here because of Him
You only do because He makes you do it
Don't think it is you who is doing it
Good luck and good show
Be a Merry Christmas, will ya?
Cedars whisker the ditch along Possum Branch Road. Such small little fellers, hardly worth calling a tree. Some say haints put a spell on the whole two thousand arcres. Maybe so, maybe not, but leastways, the land wont grow even a decent scrub oak these days. Being mostly swamp, the creepy crawlers infest every rat hole and tuft of wire grass. The old run down Elizabethan house used to be a place of excitement back during reconstruction. It had the latest wood burners you could find in the south. Then the family started dying off- - - one by one. The old cajun Mammie came up with more fixins than you could shake a stick at, but nothing worked. The last one of the family died back in 1923. A marker in the small family grave yard still reads, "Here lies the last of 300 years worth of Deveroux. God save the Queen and these here states." Most of the markers are barely readable now, being so pitted by the weather. As long as Mammy lived, folks would drive their old buggies and rattletrap cars around the place. That's why they's that big bend in the road around it.
Anyways, you don't want a flat tire close to the place at night. There be a strange blue green light coming out from the small grave yard. Some folks say they suddenly had passengers in their back seats if they happened along at the right time. But I say, there ain't no right time for a rotton stranger to show up in your back seat, and not have a word to say. But remember one thing, if you are there at that house and a stranger shows up in the back seat, don't look straight at him. You will go blind for twenty four hours, and your food tastes rotton for a week. It's really bad because you just HAVE to eat somethin'.
So you best just stay off of Possum Branch road, even in the day time. There's folks out there that just ain't right.
*Image of The Farmhouse by UNS.
Hint of Autumn
Sunstar wakes, Aurora reacts,
As light skews her southernmost sky,
A roost rouses, a rooster crows,
Henhouse's wood handle lifts up.
A replete farm inclined to rouse,
Sunstar wakes, Aurora reacts,
Four-year-old farmhand gets busy,
Baskets of fresh eggs walked with care.
A kitchen's stove burners light up,
A toaster plugged, and cooked bread sliced,
Sunstar wakes, Aurora reacts,
Pasteurized cow's milk fills glasses.
Patterned shirts and blue-jean jumpsuits,
Waits for the bus, two school returnees,
A leaf falls, "Guess afterschool rake?"
Sunstar wakes Aurora reacts.
2022 August 12
*5th Place*
Hint of Autumn
~~Regina McIntosh: Judged 2022 September 03
*HMS; 8 syllables per 16 lines
You were my brother, by blood we know
My partner in crime, so to speak
I had your back, you had mine
We had our fights, then we made up
You could pick on me, vice versa
Don't no one dare start trouble with you
If they did, they had me to deal with
I'm a biker today, because of you
That first biker bar, you brought me to
I walked in, then realized who I was
We argued, fussed and fought
Who would have their Harley first
You had a few rice burners it's true
At least you had two wheels to ride
The years came and went
You traveled the coast
Years later you moved in with me
You came in with bad news on life
You said your time had been cut short
I felt as though I got hit with a brick
Although we were not speaking to Mom & Dad
I thought they should know what's come of you
I wrote them a letter, telling them your time was short
Their response was, you were back on drugs
It was hard to understand, they did not believe
I wrote back to tell them, visit him at the VA Hospital
Mom didn't go, Dad did so
He walked right by you, not recognizing
You lost so much weight, he did not know you
They found I wasn't lying
You were put in their care, till your end days
I'm sorry I didn't visit
Not on good terms with mom and dad
You left this world, for a better place
I then got my Harley, in memory of you
I love you my dear brother, with all my heart
I know you ride with me, when I'm in the wind
Forever my brother, forever my friend
I love you always, until we meet again
I said I'd bring the Brussel Sprouts.
My friend said that was fine.
But still I saw him questioning
as though I'd crossed the line.
He mentioned we had many things.
A meal for a king.
But then he said "Oh what the heck"
and on I went with zing.
I mentioned bringing cranberries.
To which he said "For beef"?
Then stated that I didn't care
and kept it just that brief.
Till finally bringing cherries up.
The Marashino kind.
Do tell; I'd brought his anger up.
He thought I'd lost my mind.
I said they're for the ice cream.
When he said "We have cake".
Then told him we could put them on
for something new to make.
He greeted me with smiling eyes.
His kitchen in a mess.
He'd cooked the meal the whole day long.
This man was meant to bless.
The table sat in waiting now.
A knife, a fork a spoon.
My friend next to the burners on
where he'd been next since noon.
We talked about the day we had.
complained of things unfair.
While turnips, carrots and potats
sat cooking on with flair.
The roast was last to finish up.
It cooked a second time.
It looked like we'd be waiting on
for pink to leave the Prime.
When finally all was ready now.
Each dish upon the table.
You couldn't have had a better spread
or find a friend more able.
The turnips shining in their juice.
The carrots basted glisten.
Potatoes mashed in pile of silk
for gravy left to Christen.
We filled our plates with everything.
Three inches piled high.
And kept them separate in their space.
Not more if we could try.
When finally it had come to change.
The cranberries coming next.
My friend conceded they taste great
with beef in it's context.
The Brussel Sprouts were perfect
as we both approved thier taste.
And ate as many with the meal
to keep them from their waste.
With everything we ate that night
included was our prayer.
For though we stuffed ourselves that night
we're thankfull to be there.
We walked it off an hour or more.
Our health in need of chance.
Returning for another round
of ice cream, cake and trance.
To which I mentioned sweetened cherries
to add a little flavor.
When placed upon the ice cream scoop
would leave us both to savor.
The meal ended with a scrape
that both our plates gave squeak.
but despite our prayer and being full
not one us could speak.
It is that time of year again
wooden clog upon the cobblestone
the red telly in view beer maids
slide the giant steins across
long tables inside the crowded tent
huge pretzel and brats hang sparingly
over the doorway entrance while misty
fog pour in chasing hedge hogs
throughout the forest a rather full
Marketplatz beckons my attention span
I notice the Bavarian alps in view
while riding the mechanical bull
I'm quite taken by the lanky block
in the far corner adjusting stocking
dashing to buy a few more hummels
wooden nut crackers and incense burners
taxi!!!
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Grey skies and cooler mornings, moisture on spiders silky webs which show off their patterns and circular beauty and as you walk along little clouds of vapour form as you breath.
Yes, autumn has arrived stripping the land of its emerald beauty and foliage
but also presents us with a stunning masterpiece of autumnal colours of browns, reds, and gold on a canvas landscape.
Not far behind is the winter, its seasonal cousin, but is presently in the wings waiting to make its unwelcome appearance.
Shorts and tee shirts are now stored away but eagerly we await the return of those long hot summer days, with family outings and barbecues and sitting in the garden, glass of wine in hand watching the bees go from flower to flower collecting the pollen that will provide us with sweet golden honey.
And the butterflies, who seem to flutter aimlessly in flight, but catch your eye giving you an aerial spectacle.
But you shudder as a chill air brings you back to the present and realisation dawns that boots, coats and warm scarves are the uniform now.
Ready for the onslaught of winter, of cold days, fog, frost and snow that will bring joy to some and untold misery to others, although severe to the old and very young, the abstract landscapes of winter hold a certain beauty that inspires poets and artists alike.
A lull in winters campaign against us will come at Christmastime and we are able to retreat into our warm defences of fires and log burners whose shimmering flames radiate heat that recharges us with warmth and cosiness.
A glass of warm spicy mulled wine provides us with our inner glow.
Every day past the shortest day in December will bring us to our victory of summer days once again.
Before that though, the winter will withdraw and herald the start of spring, bringing the birth of new life to the land and preparing the way for the joys of a long awaited summertime.
Written 8th December 2017.
This is from the deepest part of my heart, I know it will hurt, so you need to be alert, but first, let me remove my hat.
Climate change has come to have a revenge.
Drought, famine and floods are claiming lives,
Men, children, and even our wives.
Yet we are doing nothing.
Our environment that was once beautiful with fresh air everywhere is now nowhere.
Instead of planting trees,
We go down on our knees,
Trying to please,
This God that gave us trees.
That’s why everyday we mourn,
We wonder why we are prone,
To these diseases that wouldn’t leave us alone.
Instead, on and on,
It goes on killing those that we call our own.
Preachers and teachers,
Everyday they teach us,
How to take care of our environment.
Yet we just stare,
Pretending to be there,
And in reality we are sleeping and dreaming,
Forgetting that this calamity will fight us for eternity.
Drooo! Droo! I listen to the sounds,
Once again I know they are around,
And another tree is going to be on the ground,
Later, they will get a crown,
A Few shillings that will only buy a gown.
The remaining trees stare in desperation,
Yearning for restoration,
Waiting for their day,
So that they can obey,
This order of the day.
They are called charcoal burners,
They say they earn from us,
But where will this lead us,
Yet there are so many that depend on us.