Best Chew On Poems
Sunday morning coffee
attracted to this screen
soupland is my toffee
my java needs no cream
Where we all chew on our pencil's
our pen's no longer quill's
we hack this keyboard wonder
exciting mental thrill's
We read eachothers thought's
emotions never drought
constant rain,a train of verse
I find myself immersed
Sharing our complaints and want's
but never do we point or taunt
we may occasion disagree
but that's what makes you,you,me...me
Freedom of expression
with a touch of cool discretion
allows this site for us to write
feeling neither wrong nor right
I enjoy my time spent sharing
even if it might be much
but if I might be daring
on subject's lightly touched
So to all my friends at soupland
I say thank you,extended hand
a place where we grow together
and weather this world's whatever's......
My muse is a sieve
it pans for gold
it’s a strainer
a skimmer
a fat separator
it tumbles boulders
until pebbles are formed
it can chew on a feeling
for days weeks or years
til it spits out a poem
my polished
my crystallized
bits of awe and woe
Act One: the stage and scenery are set
I was told the play, I'd not soon forget
But if truth were to be told
More like the game, whack-a-mole
I needed a hammer, not a lorgnette
Thespians were vying for the limelight
Popping up everywhere, ready to fight
Sarcastic words ill spoken
The golden rule was broken
A princess rudely slandered by a knight
Act Two: the actors wrote their own stage play
A long soliloquy to have their say
The audience booed and hissed
"Put that one on the blacklist!
Kick that charlatan out," they did convey.
Someone had to quickly close the curtain
'fore the crowd decided they'd be hurtin'
the actor they were jeering
with sidelong looks of leering
meaning, "Fit for a role by Tim Burton!"
Act Three: Then Queenie tried to take control
Each part played, she admitted that she stole
Just another know it all
Boring with each scribbled scrawl
Showing up everywhere like whack-a-mole
Bad actors can't write plays worth a ripe fig
But criticize others to make a dig.
Negative comments given
Are they jealousy driven?
Wantin' to make the rules like a bigwig
The play, though not very well attended
is being recast with those commended
who are never rude and crude
and have a kind attitude
Instead of those whose words have offended
The next play is about a new dog breed
I heard it's called a boghound with a need
to chew on a bone until
its nibbling has caused ill will
and seats are all empty; audience freed.
Humankind
8/9/2023
How oft’ have you been told, to not
rock the boat!
Just go along as an obedient, mute
billy goat.
Just chew on the green, fresh, cud,
Or smile always , be it in rain or in
thick mud.
This may be peachy keen for goats
you see.
But we are special, we are humanity.
When our brothers freedom and rights
are being stolen.
We must stand as one, for tis the God of
the Universe to which we are beholden!
In a horse life.We can play with a burlap feed
bag, an empty milk jug, or chew on the barn stall
door.Just to kill some time, or to kill some every
day bordom.In a horse life.We get names like
Black Beauty, Flicka, Seabiscuit, or Secretariat.
In a horse life.We do tricks like bowing our heads
down, or placing our shoe upon a pedastool.Picking
up the cowboy hat.While tapping our feet rata-tat-tat.
In a horse life.We like a good block of salt.With lots
of minerals, to lick upon.A wholesome bale of hay.To
start off a brand new day.Or a bucket of grain.To keep
us all healthy, fat, and sane.And a fresh bucket of water,
to wash it all down.In a horse life.I could be losing a
horseshoe.While the rider is losing his mind.In a horse
life.We can be a workhorse, a race horse, or a trick pony.
Or maybe a showhorse, or possibly a circus horse.With
out all the phoney baloney.In a horse life.We can run all
day in the open sun, or run the race trak.While the betters
place their wagers.Of course, at the horse racing track
betters window.In a horse life..
Give me all of my private time
I will succumb without a fight
And later be your every whim
First those few seconds of respite
Before once more I crawl through slime
Notice how once my gown was white
But cooked with silted tears and grime
Give me one minute of your day
To bend and chew on and enjoy
Before you take it all away
To you I am no more than a toy
Commodity for you to play
Inconvenience, little joy
Your Little Lord Fauntleroy
Give me a second and I crawl -
To sleep, forget about the day -
To the stone against the wall
Close my eyes and dance away
Jump so high and never fall
The uncrowned king of ballet
Applauded in the dance hall
My mind is free, my mind is mine
My words have meaning, see them shine
***
March 13, 2017
© Darren White
Firstly, one has to take into account their scientific peers’ remarks,
As to the likely cause of how an Earthquake starts.
Some forums say it is caused by the shift in tectonic plates,
Others seem to doubt, seem to hesitate.
Some believe a government conspiracy of a machine that causes the devastation,
Their conspiracy being at the cost of the suffering of another nation.
The layman believe, if all the people in China, at the same time jump,
It would cause worldwide earthquakes as their feet come down with a thump.
Nevertheless, to conduct such a feat would be a difficult task
Therefore it has never been tested and is considered a farce
I have read the theories from all these schools of thought,
And collated the facts that backs my theory which is now widely taught.
Take some time to cogitate the facts
Sit back and take the time to chew on the fat
You will see the simplicity in my theory
And say to your self it’s all true how eerie
The Earthquakes are caused by, you guessed it me and you
From the sexual experiences we all go through
Example:
“I felt the Earth move, how was it for you?”
And she would say “I felt it tremble and saw fireworks too”
Or:
I saw Jane today, you know, the one that makes me go weak by the knees
She’s a real knee trembler a real sex tease
Now imagine these experiences on a grand scale,
No think bigger than me misses; I know she’s bigger than a whale
They say there is a couple having naughties every second of the day
That’s many earth moving experiences I have to say
These minor trembles are absorbed by the earths crust from these sensations
That occur in every town, country, and among diverse nations
So when you lie in bed savouring the tasty aftermath
Before you decide to take a bath
When you think how he or she made you feel the earth move
You have contributed to the making of earthquakes and there’s the proof.
Good night
He stares at his liquor bottle, and remembers the time
he sacrificed his life to the ocean depths;
a dolphin steadily rushed him to the shallows,
then allowed the evening currents to carry him to the shores.
That night he erased the X he had put on his calendar;
the day he was to die.
A few weeks back, he had tied a noose round his neck;
he let go the chair, only for the rope to cut.
"Am I cursed?!" he shouted.
He wondered whether Fate kept him alive,
to let him chew on the memories of his Ex,
which hurt like hell.
One fortnight, he even ate a lot of peanuts,
forgetting that it’s only in his dreams he was seriously
allergic to them.
He’s really eager to die,
but death is always shying away from him;
existence is a riddle he isn’t in the mood to respond to….
Date of Entry: 25/08/2017
The clanking sound of spurs, the sun’s glare
off the shiny doppelganger derringers.
Her hat tipped onto her sweating brow.
“Contests! We don’t need no stinking contests!”
Her cowhide boots kick up the prairie dust.
She’s not your quintessential grandmother.
Her torrential windpipe words ready for a fight.
“I will be number one! Like it or not!”
She spits tobacco into the air, daring a challenge,
and it drops at the feet of the biggest contest.
“Chew on that one...for a while!”
A patch over one green eye, the jealous one. She wears it
as a badge of honor. No one messes with Lady Cogburn.
Like showing off pictures of her family, she lets a scroll roll loose.
Her adjectives and verbs, nouns and sounds.
“I dare anyone to steal my verse! Who's brave enough
to roll out one of their own!”
She spits and stares them down, as one courageous chick
steps forward and just as quick she lays her low.
“Contests! We don’t need no stinking contests! Now the rest of you scram!”
Dodge City, the ghost town, has one occupant. She lights her Virginia Slims, lets her poetic smoke circle the air — like vultures.
7/20/2018
Contests! We don’t need no stinking contests! Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
Tommy’s battle is in the bulge.
So much marmite in his pantry.
Celebrating, he does indulge.
Souper Choir laments in chantry.
What is this edible cement?
I’ve not the wherewithal to find.
Is it a sin not to try? Hell-bent?
To Tommy, I better be kind.
I opened the black jar with the
bright yellow lid for marmite cause
and Tommy all I saw was thee
reflected in the jar - your jaws.
I think I’ll skip the marmite here.
I need to chew on edibles
of real nutrition without fear.
Cost of marmite’s incredible.
1/7/2022
God is eternal always and forever(a)
has no beginning and will have no end
in His holy word has revealed Himself
to be God almighty our forever friend
One can never know God too well
so daily exposure to God's living word(b)
is a real necessity to grow in grace
to neglect His word is truly absurd
Learning biblical meditation is so vital(c)
to chew on God's truth to deeply intake
grasping His truth and all it means
feeding on God's word for my soul's sake
Taking your Lord with you everywhere
never be embarrassed by what anyone says
keeping in step with His eternal word
be faithful to Jesus all your days(d)
Consider well my reading of the scriptures(e)
to depend on the holy spirit's direction(f)
be sure I'm walking in Jesus holy steps(f)
aim always listen to His gracious correction
(Bible references :
(a) Psalm 90: 2
(b) Joshua 1: 8
(c) Psalm 19: 14
(d) Deuteronomy 7: 9
(e) Psalm 1: 2
(f) Romans 15: 13)
I've written this after pondering on the following appraisal of knowing God and whether if I really do?
Have you read the Bible from cover to cover? Is the Holy Spirit your teacher? Are you walking in His footsteps?
The Word of God is not a buffet for us to pick and choose what we wish. God is the Word, so do you honestly love all of it and meditate on it with the goal of knowing Him so you can live according to His commandments while you abide in Him?)
Such a weight, these boulders of depression.
Carrying them has become a useless, sad obsession...
A way to define the core of self, the Inner Being
Only talk of lightening the load, no thought of ever freeing...
A soul's place is through the void, to be preserved forever in ice,
Ice of Blue hues and Nothings - so nothing to avoid.
Grey grit mixes with the mist of time expired. Dirty memories.
Several generations based on the same pattern.
Reproduced but not rewired.
Currents lost in cul de sacs and weeping men in doorways,
Bottled laughter auctioned off then vapourised by sun's rays.
Tell me this, TELL me the story -
is man aglow, or does he bask in God's Glory?
The wonderings and whisperings of those who need to blend.
No-one can figure out who is foe and who is friend.
Hearts breaking with audible cracks while demon's chew on pain,
keeping anger as their snacks.
Leaching colour from the world around.
Searching till every weakness is found - preying on insecurities and lust
till the last bones are but powder and dust.
Endless Grey is all I see.
Even my shadow has departed from me;
But I stand straight and hold myselt tall -
never moving in case I should fall.
Don't look left, and don't look right lest fear attacks your need for flight.
Loose the soul, cut silver threads for Divinity swings low.
Don't end the game before it's begun, take care to walk it slow...
Walk it slow for those who lag behind and fast for those who run.
Every searching till you find...
The Meaning of The One.
APPETIZERS
It licks it's raspy way across the land,
and peeks around and drools at our abode.
A plume of ash to blacken every man,
and leaves our children standing in the road.
Devours hot crackling sounds in baby's ear,
with lullaby of death, it encroaches.
It swallows cozy shelter, dock, and pier,
drying up our lake as it approaches.
Then feasting on all creatures great and small,
it spits out raw bones, or glass, and metal.
No blaze can chew on such metallic squall,
nor munch the bones of Grimm's, bravest Gretel.
A ravenous and lively old fire beast,
pops us down as hors d'œuvres for the feast.
By Edlynn Nau
© October 14, 2017
Dedication to the people of the 17 California Fires: with special love to Mendocino County, Lake County, Napa County, Sonoma County, & Santa Rosa.
Broken And All Hope Lost, What Does One Do
I am old, tired and I no longer want to write
the old kettle is broken and tea leaking out
Kitchen is a hot mess and floors are dirty too
the ancient windows are shattered, O' what a sight
just time to pack it in, of that there is no doubt!
Where does eagle fly when its feathers are all gone
into canyon walls crashing into a sad heap
Nature may speak loud and although man may ignore
we all end up buried and cast into white bones
with our destroyed dreams and that eternal deep sleep!
So tell me, what real Hope can you, my friends, now give
that an old dog can chew on that is not crushed rock
Lights are off, this cold hurts so and heat is not on
Fighting for my survival and this life still live
as the trumpet sounds and I hear that old tick tock!
I am old, tired and I no longer want to write
the old kettle is broken and tea leaking out
Kitchen is a hot mess and floors are dirty too
the ancient windows are shattered, O' what a sight
just time to pack it in, of that there is no doubt!
R.J. Lindley
November 10th, 1990
Rhyme,(Where Dark Shadows Prevail)
In the deepest, darkest, dankest depths,
the creatures plan and hedge their bets,
they ponder just how bad we'll get,
and smoke their foreign cigarettes.
Concentrating on the Middle East,
they've hatched and raised a hateful beast,
and guaranteed they'll be no peace,
so war and suffering will not cease.
In Africa their foothold's firm,
so many die from spreading germs,
they love to watch the infants squirm,
their bloated flesh the food for worms.
Their goal is to destroy mankind,
plant seeds of hatred in our minds,
their pact with Satan's sealed and signed,
in blood upon the dotted line.
The rain forest is their target, too,
cage all the creatures in a zoo,
cut down the trees and plant no new,
and watch the greenhouse gasses spew.
Make sure the seas are full of trash,
and oil spills as hulls are gashed,
they want to see our hopes be dashed,
the dice are thrown, the die is cast.
They sit and chew on monkey bones,
and laugh as storms destroy our homes,
in league with trolls and hunchbacked gnomes,
they breed in secret catacombs.
The darkness glides on silent wings,
and is repelled by just one thing:
the song of prayer our hearts sing,
with love we can defeat this thing.