Best Cone Shaped Poems
SUN DAY
Ocean
Tide’s fun
Bold sun
Red nun
Jet ski flies o’er ocean, tide’s fun splash
All day affair - bold sun, red nun thrash
4/9/2017
Tyburn Form
*nun – cone-shaped buoy
Categories:
cone shaped, adventure, beach, sun,
Form:
Tyburn
A March unstable, April drizzles
At last, now dawns the month of May........
Children gather 'round a table
Making paste of flour, water,
guidance from a loving mother
with pictures drawn in rainbow colors
Pretty paper doilies landed
In the hands of lassies, laddies
Creating prizes, cone shaped fans…
Then, quickly running out the door
To pick spring beauties, one by one
Fresh lilies of the greenest valley,
wild wood fern, and yellow dahlias
Gathering the dew-kissed stems
Sweet and fresh as dawn begins
Filled with springtime, fresh with bloom
Innocence, was cut and honed
Into bright-sprigged paper cones
Accomplishments, each one to own
On May the first, each small bouquet
Ready with the vast array
Of blossoms from the pasture flowers
softly fragrant, gifts of meadows
The paper cones were flower filled
Small bouquets of sweet perfume
Then down the dusty road they trudged
Side by side, with grins of pride
No greater pleasure as a child
The thought of bringing someone smiles
Timid knocking on a door
“Surprise...Surprise! Look what’s in store!”
The little legs now running fast,
And down the road, quite out of breath
Behind a tree, where they would hide
And watch them find this flower prize
Must not....get caught.....must not get caught!
And always they were taught
That bringing gifts to make them sigh
Was worth a lot ..so worth the thought
A thoughtful way to light one's eyes
On May the first, with small bouquets
they would rehearse, a verse to say
To spread come spring, then run away
____________________________________
Submitted for Isaiah's Contest: THE FIRST OF MAY
4/25/15
Categories:
cone shaped, childhood, flower, giving, may,
Form:
Pastoral
Who remembers, is it only me?
When March had drizzled, and April fooled us...
But a morning in the month of May.........
We'd spread upon a kitchen table
Paste made of flour, scissors, borrowed
paper, crayons of rainbow colors
Pretty paper doilies and….
Mama letting little hands
Create surprises, of cone shaped fans…
The memory shrugs so many years
Where innocence, was cut and shaped
Into bright-sprigged paper cones
Accomplishments, each of our own
On May the first, a small bouquet
We would rehearse, a verse to say
To spread come spring, then run away
Then quickly running out the door
To pick spring beauties, one by one
Fresh Lillies of the Valley, wildwood fern,
Gathering them, heavy on their stems
Sweet and fresh as morning dew,
So filled with springtime, filled with bloom
Then paper cones were flower filled
Small bouquets of sweet perfume
Then down the dusty road we trudged
Side by side, with grins of pride
No greater pleasure as a child
The thought of bringing someone smiles
On May the first, a small bouquet
We would rehearse, a verse to say
To spread come spring, then run away
Timid knocking on a door
“Surprise...Surprise! Look what’s in store!”
Our little legs now running fast,
And down the road, quite out of breath
Behind a tree, where we would hide
And watch them find this flower prize
Must not....get caught.....must not get caught!
And we were taught
That bringing gifts to make them sigh
Was worth a lot !! Was worth the thought
A thoughtful way to light their eyes
On May the first, a small bouquet
We would rehearse, a verse to say
To spread come spring, then run away
_________________________________________________________
2/19/14
Categories:
cone shaped, child, childhood, nature, spring,
Form:
Ballad
In the forest, one I saw
Groping down a tree limb
Trembling like an old man
Dressed in a patchwork robe of
Green, gray, yellow and brown
Its colours were like the bark and leaves of the tree
At a glance, it could have been a cluster of
Yellow, brown and green leaves shaking in the wind
With a slow and deliberate gait
Changing colour at will to match the surrounding
The body gives the appearance of being rather compressed
With a pointed ridge along its back
Large eyeball, fused eyelids
Having only a small opening
Through which it looks for its preys
Shooting out its tongue several inches
Picking off insects with great skills
Lying horizontally in the back of its mouth,
A cone-shaped bone; the point forward
At its base, the long hollow tongue is anchored
Long muscles held the tongue
Pleated with accordion bellows
Compressed around the bone
Turning individually, its turret eyes
Within the range, an insect it spots
Powerfully, the long muscle contracts
And held the tongue over the bone
Like a compressed spring
The tip of the slippery bone tightens
And the tongue shoots out
Stuck on the gluey tip, the insect
Its long, limp tongue, slowly drawn in
Like a baby eating noodles
To see it again, a joy to the sight
This great chameleon!
Categories:
cone shaped, animal, beauty, nature,
Form:
Romanticism
Ice Cream
Lover of the shade,
Chilled fruit of the high summer.
Soft petalled flower,
Edible varieties
Budding from a cone shaped stem.
Barry Stebbings
05/30/18
Syllable count by
Howmanysyllables.com
Categories:
cone shaped, fruit, summer,
Form:
Tanka
What is it about a Wizard's appearance that gives me pause? I
always find myself guessing about what type of lurid surreptitious
act of debauchery is practiced within the confines of such nonsensical
attire.
You always seem to run into one of these super naturalists in the dark
recesses of some ancient dim lit pub swilling grog by candle lite.
Come on, would you allow an eighty year old guy with a white beard
down to his navel, wearing a robe that hasn't seen a dry cleaners in
a fortnight, toting a six foot gnarled hard wood staff, into your bar?
The guy won't even take that floppy wide brimmed cone shaped hat
off when he comes inside.
And another thing, he's always on a quest, never just out for a cold one.
I don't know, this has just always bothered me a little...
Categories:
cone shaped, humor,
Form:
Free verse
Standing on an open meadow, I had the celestial blues...
wanting to feel what was like to be somewhere else,
on a different planet where sunsets had luminous hues;
was there another universe more beautiful than ours?
Night came as silence became deeper, imagining of spotting a spaceship
landing where I was standing anticipating the invasion of funny-looking aliens...
the cone-shaped-head extraterrestrial as they began exiting without hurry or fret;
would they have resembled the sophisticated Egyptians with long skulls and faces?
How confident was I that they would have come as I had planned?
Perhaps using imagination as a mere fantasy would have helped me,
so roaming around with restless movements, I had to trust they would have landed
on the foggy, dark plain...it seemed a dreary scenery only seen in a fictional story.
Lots of folks have claimed to have seen them in their backyards, or in their home...
I wanted to believe that by feeling the same awe and unexpected surprise;
and would the cone-shaped-head extraterrestrial have harmed them?
They were as curious as we are, trying to reach us by traveling millions of miles.
In the middle of the meadow, there was an empty barn...I saw a steady gleam
flickering through the tall door as twelve pale yellow creatures appeared to me,
I was captivated by the awesome sighting....they walked gently and quietly;
they had pointy ears and skinny legs, red-flaring eyes to induce a terrifying scream.
They weren't cold-blooded, or conquerors...by their kind looks, they asserted trust,
and they carried no weapons of any kind: coming in peace was a friendly gesture;
the tall one said, " Don't be afraid...we are a peaceful race coming from Alcrut,
the furthest planet never discovered by humans...it has the brightest sunset ever! "
" Come with us, we'll show you its magnificence...it is gold-gilded as our shields,
as an orange rainbow stretches for miles overseeing our glorious cities,
and to assure you, we fight no neighbor, our main intention is peace. "
I shouted, " Say no more, it's time you whisked me away to admire your sunsets!"
Categories:
cone shaped, adventure, friendship, space, planet,
Form:
Rhyme
Purple cone flower
Cone shaped center attracts
All hungry insects
Categories:
cone shaped, nature
Form:
Haiku
I draw women,
Booby women,
I like them.
They are round and good.
They make clothes seem pretty.
I am a 65-year-old woman.
I like women.
Women are the best.
I am not a lesbian, but I love boobs.
I am a product of the 50’.
When TV actresses wore cone-shaped bras under sweaters.
Betty Boop was the sexpot of the 50’s; we all liked to
Think of ourselves as one day being “boop boop de boop!”
Anyway, I did.
Every girl in first grade needed a boob-laden Barbie doll.
She came out in 1957, and this was 1959.
If you did not have one, something was wrong with you.
It was hard getting Barbie’s shirts snapped.
Those boobs were hard, plastic.
They were still fun.
I love drawing women.
Booby women.
It feels good, and I love it.
Categories:
cone shaped, teenage, women,
Form:
Free verse
Blindly I wander, incapable of feeling anything but
numb.
Unable to see anything but the desolate space in my cone-shaped view.
It's been some time since I took a breath,
let a crude wisp of color seep in my lungs.
In one moment past, I inhaled long and full.
I viewed the prismatic color that existed just beyond physical touch.
I infused my breath with the shades and the shapes,
a syrupy stained-glass.
If only for a moment,
If only for a moment.
Categories:
cone shaped, absence, addiction, desire, fear,
Form:
Free verse
This will not be a typical Christmas Day.
Home is one hundred million kilometers away.
There is desiccated orange soil all around.
Nowhere is there a fir tree to be found.
Nearby is a cone-shaped rock formation.
Perhaps we can use our imagination.
Someone came up with an idea quite keen.
Why don’t we spray paint that cone-rock green?
We might dress it up with some tinsel and lights.
It will look pretty during the twelve Christmas nights.
Sunset is almost here. We will have to go.
At night, temperatures can drop to forty below.
We will be nice and warm inside our Quonset huts.
There is some eggnog and fruitcake full of nuts.
The chaplain can lead us in a service and prayer.
Right now, let us get out of this thin, cold air.
Here comes the nighttime under a canopy of stars.
This is our first Christmas on Mars.
Categories:
cone shaped, holiday, imagination, christmas, christmas,
Form:
Rhyme
Ice cream cones are meant to drip
But once you’ve got the knack,
You catch those drops on tongue or lip
To help preserve your snack.
At times the bottom of the cone
Might form a little hole,
Allowing an escape, unknown
When ice cream’s in a bowl.
So someone came up with a plan -
A paper cone-shaped coat
To overlay the cone, but man,
They’d never get my vote!
The paper's somehow always stuck;
It’s hard to peel away.
Thus, oftentimes, I’m out of luck
And there’s a price to pay.
I either toss the cone before
I’m finished or I might
Ingest some shreds of paper, more
Than I want in a bite!
Categories:
cone shaped, food, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Sand falls silently and relentlessly in a steady steam
from the top bulb to bottom bulb through hourglass neck.
Sand grains tick the seconds away as they flow,
forming an inverted cone-shaped pile.
Excess tumbling down the sides
of the sand hill below.
A gaggle of grains
disordered
in time
pause
waiting
for flip-overs
to flow in reverse
back to whence they came.
An endless cycle of flip flops
marking the passage of time when
time began with the big bang explosion
when order in the singularity was maximal.
Extreme order shattered in a surge towards more disorder,
with time, the marker of endless fate to increase entropy.
Categories:
cone shaped, time,
Form:
Concrete
Christmas songs are played in all big houses.
Harmonizes the spirit of mankind.
Red cone-shaped hats are worn by all ages,
It only makes Christmas day sought to find.
Singing Christmas carols under streetlight,
Timeless pleasure can be seen on their eyes.
Music and bright lights are dancing each night,
As kids start to buy gifts full of surprise.
Santa Claus will come singing “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
Most minds are thrilled for this will happen once.
Under the lights, the cars are on the go!
So that they could go home with their loved ones
Indescribable sound of this music…
Christmas can only make this true magic!
Categories:
cone shaped, christmas, music,
Form:
Sonnet
The briny's ebbed and out of reach
and in its wake a fresh clean beach
but left behind and snagged on rock
are slimy strings of bladder wrack.
In rock pools some creatures marooned
and bits of bygone life abound,
like skeletons of crustacean
that once thrived in this vast ocean.
A sandpiper struts on mudflat
as that is where his food is at.
For cone shaped casts he keeps keen eye
knowing that's where a lugworm lie.
His pointed beak is poised to stab
into the mud a worm to grab.
He must be quick to win his fill
for soon returning tide will spill.
Categories:
cone shaped, sea,
Form:
Rhyme