Best Churned Poems
She hung the lanterns every night
A softly pungent glowing light
In hopes amid the darkened cliffs
To warn the sailors of the gut
That churned amid the shifting tides
Some sailors claim an angel flew
Above the ship to guide it through
While others swear t’was Mermaids eyes
That rode with them through swirling surf
And it’s been said by the aged ones
It guides the Seagulls homeward runs
And winks at flocks that must migrate
To let them know they’re headed straight
The truth be told she lit the light
And placed it hanging every night
Went to bed and closed her eyes
And dreamt herself a firefly
Jack Frost, Jack Frost, how we feel your icy touch.
The earth lies under your freezing clutch.
You are a sneaking thief coming to steal the russet sun,
And mercilessly take away all our outdoor fun.
Fluffy snowflakes on feathery wings unfurled,
Fall gently and silently over the sleeping world.
First they come slow and then in torrential showers fast,
As if the snowing will never stop, but forever last.
Busy streets and pavements are now lying bare.
People stay indoors. To come out, they hardly dare.
Rodents have gone into hibernation in their ditch.
It seems life altogether has gone out of pitch.
Birds sit with drooping wings in their woody nests.
Within eyeshot, no trace of any roaming beasts.
From nowhere comes the song of a single bird.
On the slopes, one cannot sight the grazing herd.
Inch by inch, foot by foot, snowflakes fall,
Surrounding us on all sides like an oppressive wall.
Tawny roof tops are crusted with flakes of milky snow,
That the sun with golden beams alone can thaw.
From the cobalt sapphire sky’s misty veil,
Fall down the snowflakes like summer hail.
Unpigmented piles get heaped on the ground,
And the Earth lies inundated in a sea of milk churned.
From the seamless sea of ice, strewn with scattered gems,
Aureate, flaxen sunbeams make glittering diadems.
Thus Nature creates variegated scenes, delighting the heart,
Superseding every piece in a museum of man-made art!
something grabs my leg
plastic bag churned by the tide
ocean clings for life
With fifty-nine tears, I stare at the phone, wanting to
understand. I had your voice in my hand. Intense pain now
washes through our decade’s bones. I must be able to rinse it,
cleanse it and restart with a stable heart. Always layers of hurt
from you. Now there is another, my lost Brother.
We may never meet again, not as siblings or as friends, yet you
chose to bring our last call to a painful end! Distance and age
whisper chilly to me of a certain possibility, this call could be the
last call of all. I wonder, do you feel that, too? Does this sad truth
also shadow you?
In life’s darkness, two stars shine on; one is our Dad, the other,
our Mom. Dad could not take your constant rift of frightening dread
or bear your street life, so he mentally buried you in his head. Mom
could not handle her first born living so forlorn, her maternal heart
and head were torn. She could not sever the bond, so her enabling
continued on. Neither parent was right or wrong. Unbearable pain
made them desperate to survive your heartbreaking song.
I never knew what to do, but I sought and fought to do it right.
I would help, I would insist, but true help, you would resist. Each
approach to coax you towards a healthy life ended with me tripping
through your dark light. I’ve abandoned my hopeful persistence
by accepting that I may never have brother-relief in this existence.
For years my insides have churned as I daily pray for some informative
word about your wellbeing. I've even called morgues in your state
to learn if you were still among the living but no news ever shaped.
I’ve had a lifetime of watching you fill your own spaces by selfishly
passing thru daylight. Rather than climbing up to achieve a healthy
need, you've always sat aground and caused yourself to bleed.
Whether you’re in jail or living drugged on the streets, loving you has
never known relief. I gave you my all, walked all your dark halls.
Can’t we now have peace?
Please bro, on some near tomorrow, borrow another phone. Call me
and let us be the best of us, let us share love to enhance what is
left of us. Look to your heart and grant what I want, one more, last
call that love may be shown when next your voice is in my phone.
In churned up soil the poppy rose
On top of death, still steadily grows
And in our minds we see the crosses
That lie in rows and count our losses
Blood that drips from tiniest bloom
Beloved children, lost from the womb
Their essence blown upon the earth
For infinity, will show their worth
And so they marched by decree
A war they fought, so we could be free
The poppy, how we remember them now
So in silence we do reverently bow
One single day, just once every year
To remember all the horror and fear
To give thanks and praise, to those in need
Who saved us through unselfish deed
For so young when they said goodbye
With no idea that so many would die
In Flanders Fields where poppies grow
Innocence, now lays buried in each row
For those that did return safely home
Their spirit lost and so had flown
To fly away among the peaceful skies
With friends and larks with carefree eyes
In the thunder hear the roar of guns
Calling to all our native sons
Arise, arise, from sleep once more
For once again, there will be war
In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow
They cover our loved ones, buried below
Like a blanket, they protect all within
From a world that is ravished by sin
More souls will join them as the years go by
More wars will be fought, as the lark does cry
More fields will be filled, with our dead
And poppies will mark their graves in red
"Lest we forget and more shall die"
"In Flanders Fields our loved ones lie"
Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.
Proverbs 16: 18
she stood tall on the jagged edges of the cliff
face worried as she noticed the rough seas
whilst above high dark clouds rumbled
though the sun shone straight at her face
could it enlighten her about what had happened
thoughts came and went, as she remembered
the letter he had sent her and wondered
was she deceived by her soldier and sister
he insulted her refusing to marry him
and she insulted him back vowing
she would never marry him come what may
still thoughts rumbled inside her mind
was he really proud or was she prejudiced
the jagged edges of a knife pierced her soul
could there have been some half-truths in his insults
she still hated him but admired his handsome face
facts churned in her head and confused her even more
could she face those jagged edges of truths
she turned and walked down the rough cliff
her soul lacerated with truths and pride
Placed 1
The little imp bawled lustily
as it lay in its perambulator
there by the water fountain
in a secluded garden
right in the middle of a concrete jungle,
disturbing my elevated thoughts
that churned and churned inside my mind
on how to kill those pesky flies
that infested my rundown abode.
It was no use for me
to kick any brilliant idea around,
so long as that pesky brat
disturbed the silence all around.
Why even the doves stopped cooing
and other birds stopped chirping,
whilst most decided that 'twas best
to search for a quieter place.
So I walked up to his comely nurse
sitting contentedly on a bench
and scratching my unshaven face
I quite politely asked
why the little cherub cry so much!
She looked me up and down
and down and up, no doubt
disgusted by what she discerned.
"Maybe he's seeing a devil,"
she replied, cooing at the cherub
that made its bright new pram
quiver with yelping wails.
"Or maybe he's thirsty,"
scathingly I replied.
Cherub my foot, I thought.
And sighing I slowly repaired
back to my solitary bench
and thought and thought on
how I could kill those parasites
that bothered me as much
as that little cherub in the pram.
When you vowed your love, like a fairy, forever,
And fluttered about, like, possessed by new heaven,
I rolled my loneliness like a quilt in cover.
And got fermented by you like flour by leaven...
Your smile was as though the constellation twinkling,
For your love, I thought, I will take many a birth,
Your gestures went beyond all poetic jingling;
To make you immortal I'd kill the very death...
Why darling, soon, your bejeweled image got changed?
Where had your smile-beams found their hidden hiding place?
Your milky mind like an ocean of poison churned!
Slowly, forever, gloom shadowed your lovely face!
Does the sea, yet, stop the wavered wave coming home?
I'll wait for you, though you love, like a swift, long roam.
10 August 2021
How endearing the innocence of life was,
When blissfully it started, with a blank canvas,
Cherishing in mother’s love and warmth,
Happy as can be, cuddled in loving arms,
Flaunting vigor of adorable, zealous charm.
Life ran into hurdles as it learned to walk,
Stumbled, yet got up, after every fall,
Giggled and babbled, learning to talk;
And from gibberish, as cogent words formed,
How flawless, pure, beginning of life was!
Soon, as it donned unique shape and form,
Colors adorned fabric of once empty canvas,
In brushstrokes of inspiration and resolve,
Enlisting hope, amidst despairs of loss,
And beams of light upon tenebrous clouds.
On ambitions it thrived, braving passionately,
Yet, encountered unbearable abyss of grief
As doubt and dismay churned in defeats
And failures sprouted within complacency,
Deviating from path of purposeful deeds.
From inner peace, as wisdom vibes chimed,
Life freed from mundane, agitation of strife,
Triumphant when dreams and reality rhymed,
Questing for tranquility in eternity of time,
Retouching feats-unfinished on canvas of life.
The other day I was lucky
enough, to see you;
you made my blush
you made me cry
you churned the sky
with every color
known to man;
God adjusted the lens
I looked again, sure enough
you streaked the sky
with crayon shades on cue;
Your repertoire of color
surpasses every dream.
Oct. 24, 2018
The strong wind blows wildly today
As masses of green trees sway
Just like the flames burning cities
In our country atrocities
Attacked within, anger explodes
With violence, our country implodes
Business destroyed, our flag burned
Violence spreads where hatred is churned
Police cars in flames, stations gone
Chaos in front of white house lawn
Graffiti left everywhere
Vile words written without a care
Churches, courts and historic sites
No law and order, flashing lights
Wreckage in multiple places
Torn down cities, crying faces
Justice twisted into revenge
By thousands who want to avenge
The strong wind blows wildly today
Turning our country into dismay
It is hard to recognize now
An attack we can’t stop, somehow
As the wind blows, I wonder why
Healing takes so long, when we try
Heidi Sands
5/31/20
I stood on the cliff and asked the wafting clouds exultantly,
"You greet me every morn, you watch me through
My windows and peer through the chinks,
You have been a mystical part of me through
My childhood when I skipped and jumped with friends
And through my confusion and confidence in adulthood.
What does the future behold for a dreamy me?"
The sky seemed bluer in the cloudscape and I heard echoes
" In the labyrinth of choices your future is sown in........your future is sown in
Your cherished dream was an unbelievable reality................believable reality
A kaleidoscopic ride after the nature you've churned out for self..........for self
An investment in optimism has enveloped you in calmaria..............in calmaria
Enjoy the fruit which is multiplying with interests......................with interests".
May14, 2015
For Skat A
Any Poem You Are Proud of # 3
(May 10, 2016
For Nayda Ivette Negron)
*Calmaria (Spanish)- after a storm comes calm
Poem is in a dialogue form; the second verse is an end line word poem.
Bill and Blanche set off, to the 'Yorkshire Show' they did go
T'was a yearly trip, and they would always show.
Each time Bill says to Blanche ‘On that elicopter I’d like to ride.’
Blanche always replied’ but it's twenty quid Bill’ and then she and Bill sighed.
'Twenty quid is twenty quid Bill, you always told me that'
‘Tha’s right me old love,’ and he’d give his wallet a pat.
The next year Bill looked, at the elicopter, and he tried once more
‘I’m seventy-five Blanche, there not much time left for me to soar.’
‘Bill, it’s twenty quid, and twenty quid is twenty quid.
So we’ll not go on the elicopter ride, of that idea you must get rid.’
Bill looked at the elicopter and agreed twenty quid was twenty quid
Of that one idea though, he could never really get rid.
Bill was desperate to ride on that elicopter whirring thing
The pilot overheard the couple, and then he made Bill’s heart sing.
I’ll take you on board, but not one word must you say
If you keep TOTALLY quiet, not one pound or penny will you pay.
Bill and Blanche climbed on board ,for the ride of their life
Not one word did Bill utter, nor his terrified wife.
The pilot looped the loop, he dived and twisted and turned
Not one word did the pilot hear, yet even his stomach churned.
He landed and spoke to Bill and he said ‘I am impressed’
I twisted and I turned and I really tried my best.
Bill said to the pilot ‘Well I nearly gave in lad, and I nearly spoke’
‘Twas when the wife fell out, but you know us Yorkshire folk.’
I watched her spiral down; I nearly shouted, but thought that’s absurd
‘And tha knows twenty quid is twenty quid lad, and you said NOT one word.’
©~GG~17/11/2012
Taken from a joke sent to me by Jack Horne and continuing the theme Harry uses of Yorkshire Humour.
Quid Slang name for pound sterling
Yorkshire folk drop their 'h's
Let me tell you the story of the pie piper
Had a flute he played so said the flyer
The town we lived in was on fire
Our situation was grave and dire
That is why we needed to hire
This one and the only pie piper
With his flute through the mirk and mire
He conjured pies from the sky and higher
We needed them to sell enough to retire
In fact we were set we already had a buyer
What happened next was unforeseen John Dryer
Although he did show up it was in two nights not the prior
We agreed to his terms...he was preaching to the choir
Then the pies happened all kinds right out of the fryer
What I tell is true I am not a liar
Don't believe me just ask my sire
Fruit Pies of all kinds
Meat Pies great finds
Pizza Pies blew minds
Weird Pies with rinds
But then
Just then
The tide turned
We got burned
Trust unearned
Yuck he churned...
Quickly they began to really fall
Then all the children started to bawl
It was a disaster all in all
We tried to leave but moved at a crawl
Who would think of such a thing
We could hear the town bells ring
All others knew to stay in with this warning
This turned out to be a terrible morning
Actually changed into a kind of mourning
The sky was now brown in color
You could smell the wretched odor
We had not considered cow pies
Nor all the pests mostly black flies
Literally the **** had hit the fan
So much for our supposed brilliant plan
12~10~2014
Rhyme Scheme: aa aaaa aaaa aaaa aa
bbbb cc dddd eeeee ff gg hh.
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Contest Name: Plentitude of Pies
so smooth you are-
the thought of you soothe's down my throat.
milkshakes, mocha latte's and root beer floats...
baby you are my chocolate chip, you're my honey dip
...and I just love the way your cream is whipped...
butter pecans, hot fudge and caramel
I love your taste and your sweet unforgettable smell...
everytime after tasting you...my mind dwells...
on the rainbow colored sprinkles placed upon you
there's no other flavor I wanna try beyond you...
hot syrup oozing all over you
-no matter cold or hot...you're my fondue
baby you're so good, I want double scoops of you
you chill my body in this heat
my favorite dessert, my favorite treat...
without your taste, I'm incomplete
- you give me this feeling-
I never felt...
and when I have you, my heart just melts
...I'll put you in my icebox to preserve you
you taste so good, sometimes I wonder if I deserve you...
slowly churned, soft served and home made...
...I like many kinds...but you're perfect just the way you're made.
I'll place you in my cone and put a cherry on your top
cause baby you're just like icecream...
good to the last drop!