Best Corkscrew Poems
Words in italic by Angeline Lim
Words in regular font by Timothy Hicks
Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
Playing fireworks
on lovers' palates
scintillating senses
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic Osmanthus
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum mysteries
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal
P.S. Haven't been on lately ... hope all is well with everyone :)
Inside the Dishwasher everyone rushed!
Clinks, clanks, rattles, 'Ouches' and ' Ohs'!
"Would you pa--lease, settle down!" said Deb--They hushed.
"Now we can hear...let's just see how this goes."
Curious, Peter, looked out through a chinc,
And watched Vie and Chris-- approaching by twos.
They opened the door--and who do you think--
Standing there wearing her fine Jimmy Choos,
Ms Lost Sonnet!--spoke not a word--but winked.
Wilma Wine-Corkscrew, dressed in purple hues
Gave the 'all clear', and Peter spread the news.
"We're having a party Ms Sonnet, please,
Won't you join us? It's a magic party
For Peter", said Ruben Rotisserie.
Bob Blender poured her a drink--quite hardy.
Connie Candellabra was flaming bright
As Ms Sonnet swept past to the soft couch.
Carolyn Cookie Jar screamed with such fright,
"Quick! She's on fire!" Then Lost cried, "Ouch!"
"I'll save her", said Catie Collander. "Here!"
But the water leaked through her like a sieve.
Susan Spatula yelled, "Have no fear, dear!"
Yet, the fire held on and would not give--
Others tried, but could not stop the fire.
Then Peter said, "I wuw twy! I can do it!
With 'Awwy, I can fwy! Way up highya!
Togethwa, we can save Ms Wost Sonnet!
Awwy is my fwend. He tawks funny, too!
He's aw the way fwom Engwand and he is
My Supwa Cape! So I can fwy! It's twue!
No H's wive theaw--his name is wike this:
'Awwy--not Hawwy." So now, they all knew.
"Did I 'ear some bloke colling my name?"
"Yes! 'Awwy, me! We've Ms Sonnet to save!"
Harry Handtowel--AKA, Super Cape--fame
Was now on the neck of Peter the Brave!
With no hesitation quickly they flew,
Smothered the fire and saved just one shoe.
Brittle and weak, Lost needed more than glue...
"She needs magic! Oh! Paweeze! What can we do?"
"Peter...we only made enough for you".
Said Carol Crock-pot. They all cried, "Boo Hoo..."
"Then give huw my magic! That's what you do!"
So quickly they sprinkled the magic brew.
Ms Sonnet was greatful--then said, "Adieu".
"Peter, you've done well," said Anne Assam Tea,
"Let's all have a cup'a tea and you'll see...
"'Magic's believing in yourself, --frankly,
Do that--and you can do--anything!"
~©deborah burch
5/23/2012
*Special appearance by "Lost Sonnet", courtesey of David Williams...with much gratitude, thank you all for appearing ;)...Peter has many adventures to come...big hugs, love you all, cap'n deb
Standing at the plate there is no doubt
The pitcher is determined to strike me out
He squints to see the catcher's glove
Then spins and swings his arms above
The ball scorches a path across the plate
I feebly swing six days too late
The umpire acts like he's having fun
When he bellowed out, "STRIKE ONE!"
Again the pitcher stares at the dish
While I silently make a wish
Not a big request at all
I only want to hit the ball
The pitcher rears back and throws a curve
The ball starts over there and then begins to swerve
I miss so badly I hit the ground
I can hear people laughing all the way back in town
The umpire is having a belly laugh too
As he holds up two fingers and shouts, "STRIKE TWO!"
The pitcher is doing a cocky dance
While behind the mound hiking up his pants
He looks smug and I hear the catcher say,
"Give it up boy, he's putting you away."
The pitcher shakes off signs 1,2,3
He's saving a special pitch just for me
He peeks out over the top of his glove
I can tell that this strikeout he already loves
He winds up like a crazy corkscrew
Slinging a pitch he has never threw
I close my eyes and jerk the bat
Somehow the bat finds where the ball is at
The crack was the loudest ever heard
Nowhere in this stadium can you hear a word
You can hear a pin drop in this place
Nary a smile on any face
You would think that ball was launched into outer space
But alas, it is just a dribbler to first base
I feel I should get out of town
When I saw the other team high-fiving on the mound
Dad said, "Don't worry son, we'll get them next time champ."
After all it was just my first bat at Little League camp!
The thunder reached them well before
it's shadow flashed along the shore
as whirlwinds from the steady beat
knocked fleeing hordes from off their feet.
Thousands sprinted to the surf
except a few who had the nerve
and put up spirited defence
and fell in flares of heat intense.
Fast and low, wings whipped the waves
glistening scales of charcoal, Jade.
Skimming clifftops, banking right,
climbing until out of sight,
then corkscrew dive in view it hove
and settled in a quiet cove.
On rocky crag where beast had fetched
it gazed down on her wings outstretched,
mother of pearl breast warmed by sun
she looked up at the one who'd come.
Crimson eyes met gaze of blue,
"Vanilla's sold out- will chocolate do?"
For contest- 'Dragons', sponsored by Silent One.
October 19th 2015
Upon the nuclear metropolis,
the very navel of the soul;
there lies the balance between what exists
outside the axis of control.
An understanding that transcends
between the virtues and the flaws
combined, condensed at either end
with all the weight that each have wrought
A pivot between Time and Change
on coiled point beneath the plane
where Chance and Choice are both arranged
and mingled products are contained.
The vortex draws a Life in steady grade
with every trial and result.
The constant whorl becomes crusade
and when it's balanced naught can halt.
The plane may teeter, it may shift
and alter rhythmic atmospheres
and life might stall upon the pith
or race the corkscrew track of years.
And in the helix of maturity
once equilibrium has been engaged
the spiral spin up through eternity
can not be ceased by fragile age.
With poise maintained when crisis knocks
and accord within every spiral breath;
a balance is redeemed when scales might rock
between the points of Life and Death.
An Ice Fishing House, Abandoned, in Need of Repair
That same shed waits
by the trees.
Waits on its skids
for the lake to freeze,
and the for the creaking
joints of bickering
stoop-shouldered men
as they push it out to the center
of a pool of glass.
It houses the stories of fishing
in winter, pulling sustenance,
wriggling, through chiseled
portals into another realm.
Old men would wait
like death, slow,
their breath
turning to steam
until they could abduct
their prey from the world below.
Trout would flop
with the thickness of a muscled fist,
striking ice like distillery rage unhinged.
They would twist and corkscrew,
mottled black and silver slapping
the frozen pane of the lake,
waiting for suffocation to take them,
as the old men drifted up in
the steam of twice-warmed coffee,
and the willow-the-wisp exhalations
of ribald stories, retold, and finally forgotten.
*prose was six lines when posted.
STOLE HER HEART TOO
A golden feather, shaped like a heart - the point like a prima donna’s ballet toes. Spoiled feather fell from forever into mortal hands. The giant screamed, stomped at his loss. The whirligig like the lamellae of a music box. Falling from seventh heaven alongside the corkscrew tree. Jack, deliriously descending, on his way to visit his procured harp, plucked from the giant’s brother. The fair lass in silver slippers hugs the feather, agrees to kiss Jack’s stupid lips.
8/31/2019
Writing Challenge 4, August 2019 - Six Lines
Sponsor, Dear Heart- Wiishkobi Ode
Like an innocent ringlet
the corkscrew opened up
her world of tedium
to a heaven, to an intensity
of the stars she had not seen
before.
She clung madly to bliss,
devoured her bottleful
with so baffling a love,
the woman was swallowed
into fractured pieces
of fume
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
December 5, 2012
The heavy odor of lavender polish softly opened the door
Peeling paint family holiday house timber-slated chairs
Orange-flower water the tick-tock of the grandfather clock
Pruning orange fruit trees which grew behind the house
Sunlight streaming into the room through sloping window
onto a table, box of cigarettes a carved pipe and a photo.
Hanging from the mirror by two ribbons, a little plush hat.
Sweet air scented with potting earth and horse manure
A valley tumbled into a blue-green canopy of forest gums
Humming sofly under her breath they threaded their way
Glittering eyes rain dripping eyelashes corkscrew curls
Living in a woodland forest cottage like country princesses
White painted railings polished wooden floors glass inset
Orchards laden with blossoms, tea on the valley verandah
White chocolate eclairs rosehip apple and Lady Grey teas
Vegetable garden ,lavender ,daisies , foxgloves and roses.
Thicket of hazel,holly and brambles coated the under slope
Antique French doors large wooden shutters,blue tint spiral
An orchard that glows red in the sunset from the studio
Glimpse of fine white teeth, challenging smile fan aflutter
Enchanted room night of candlelight sweetly familiar odors
Catching tadpoles + baby frogs in the lilly and crocus pond
Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
Playing fireworks
on lovers' palates
scintillating senses
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic Osmanthus
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum mysteries
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal
...................................
A Collaborated Rengay Poem with Timothy Hicks
Copyright © 2016 July 23rd
Sunderland N for Nuts 461 Squadron
Sunderland fought alone the Battle Of Biscay in.1943
Big old seaplane Sunderland, fought in the Battle Of Biscay
Had 4 engines, would she float, would German cannon make her pay?
Aussies put in belly guns, 2 old machine guns Vickers. fired only .303 bullets
Poms might laugh about this deed, the Germans didn't snicker
Only 8 of these Ju88s attacked, to shoot a Sunderland down
Aussies cut the crutch out of German might, with the Vickers caused a frown
Sunderland like a Swiss cheese, had so many holes left in it
5 ju88s went into the sea, 3 ran for home that minute
Germans said it wore heavy armour plate
And it fired a 37mil cannon?.....
Said bullets bounced off it mate?
Its death were still a planning
So she waddled back to the British coast
And landed on the beach at Cornwall
Aussies got sausages, tea and toast
Brave Sunderland then did fall
Don Johnson
Moral:Don't fight with the Aussies they might give you a touch up.
The fight by Sunderland N/461 against 8 JU88s on 2nd June1943.
One man died on the Sunderland Ted Miles a Lewis gunner,
most of the men were injured. All 8 ju88s were hit by the Aussies.
When a fighter/bomber ju88 started firing the Sunderland went into a
corkscrew move, to evade cannon shells each time,
during the twenty attacks made on it.
Sunderland had been a pre war 4 engined sea plane,
the current Jumbo Jet of its day. The bullet riddled old warhorse carried
them home to England.and broke up on the beach
http://www.australiansatwar.gov.au/stories/stories_war=W2_id=67.html
Friday 13th August in 1943 their luck ran out 6 more Ju88s attacked
Sunderland DV968 eight of the earlier surviving Airmen
from the deadly Nuts Flight disappeared
[email protected]
A corkscrew on a chilly night
To him and me a great delight
It's very cold, a sharp frost bite
We'll drink up while we're able.
It matters little what's for tea
The two of us - just him and me
Scrambled eggs - maybe we'll see
Cos' the corkscrew's on the table.
We taste and sip and drink our fill
We ramble on and on until -
The wine is cheap - there's no big bill
It says "Lidyl" on the label.
His nose gets red and his cheeks are so
I dim the lights and the candles glow
Chopin plays, it's turned down low
Please God, I hope he's stable.
Another bottle's opened up
Not as nice, it's cheaper stuff
Now I think I'll call his bluff
Though I wonder if he's able.
The moon shines in, a bright full moon
Chopin's playing his last tune
Hoping for romance quite soon
But the whole thing's like a fable.
I had to carry him to bed
In my negligee, "buzz off" he said
He weighed just like a lump of led
And I was barely able.
My valentine began to snore
I felt I couldn't take "no more"
So while he lay sleeping, I got tore
Down at my kitchen table
"Pipeline: Hawaii's North Shore where Championship Surfing Meets are held, remains the deadliest since records began in the 60s."
Golden shores surfed duo gift essence new threshold,
History made two by sea,
Footprint holds their granule sunk traces, queues the bold,
Long woods wee came two by sea,
Boarders store their sea tools drift faces, cue behold,
Fantasy dreams two by sea,
Reckon calls pair home schools feet races fuel's the sold,
Handily swims two by sea,
Loop unfolds those who rules hunk intense corkscrew rolled,
Gone absentees are two by sea,
Fathom pulls remain cool surfaces, two consoled,
Breathing-free crawls two by sea,
Jettisons beached dual shift places cruise controlled,
Rest at ease lays two by sea,
Ponder hauls twain unspool whiffed graces schooled withhold,
Bended knees pray two by sea,
Covered boards bros no fools--but in case, 'Win the Gold',
*Pipeline be? Two if's by sea?
*HMS; Anapestic tetrameter.
A thousand simple things will make me smile...
The sleeping form of a precious newborn,
A child's drawing in his artistic style,
Pastel shades of the sky at early morn,
Fairytales of a magic unicorn.
I am amused by hair with corkscrew curls
on heads of adorable little girls.
By puppies tripping over their own feet,
Watching moonlight glimmer as night unfurls,
A surprise kiss that's incredibly sweet.
Someone falling should never make me laugh,
But quickly, I'm chuckling out of control
Then apologize for my social gaffe.
I wildly cheer when my team scores a goal.
I've heard that 'Laughter is good for the soul.'
In a spontaneous moment of fun,
I jumped into a snowdrift at full run,
Finding great pleasure in just being me.
Like the taste of cotton candy, finespun...
Life is sweeter when I set myself free
November 11, 2021
Agendaless Exuberance Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Syllable counter: Howmanysyllables
Did you ever feel pain
makes you think you’re insane it’s like a corkscrew turning slowly at first
a machine gun burst rata ta tat straight up the back
Oh they say it’s a disc or some trapped nerve,
every diagnostic word,
but to me the pain gets worse.
It wears you down,
kills your soul
You crawl within your shell saying ing hell,
swig on a bottle of booze trying to forget,
but the pain is like a leach
it sucks away your will
Oh time for a pill
You shout and curse
Thinking of younger days,
brain was smart switched on,
Now the machine gun rage,
this pain is insane.
Can one ever be the same?
I truly don’t know.
Here come is the doctor with his question the same.
How are you today, Luke ?
I just mutter in pain