Best Cubby Poems
I will tell a funny story of a bear that's hunkydory
How 'e lives a life of comfort in a pickle on a tree
When the summer comes 'e fishes, an' 'e eats 'em off o' dishes
Till the day 'e ran in 'orror from 'is shadow on the sea
So 'e trundled of gallumphing, till 'e couldn't run for 'uffing
And 'e settled down in Puddington where honeyed puddings grow
There 'e lived a life so royal, till his dream began to spoil
For 'e longed to have a mamma bear with cubby bears in tow
'E trotted to the pickle-tree, that shady spot beside the sea
An' asked about if any knew his fav'rite childhood chum
'Is special bear at last 'e found, and knelt upon the berry-ground
An' there besought if she would be a wifey bear and mum
A mummey bear she'd gladly be, she'd mend 'is clothes and make 'is tea
And have as many fuzzy bairns as God saw fit to bless
So off they went to Pudding Town, the bear and wife, now Mrs. Brown
Which place they 'ad their little bairns, and lived in 'appiness
First place in Nursery Rhyme contest.
Categories:
cubby, animal, children, happiness, tree,
Form:
Rhyme
They plotted long, that winter’s night
Beneath the Christmas star so bright
Three tiny mice in elf like suits
Could smell the pie of many fruits
And as it baked, their hunger grew
So they decided what to do
They knew that cook would, as a rule
Set pies on window sill to cool
They would appear as Christmas elves
Instead of their most scary selves
And then the cook, they would acquaint,
Remove their clothes and she would faint
Just then, with super mouse like strength
They’d slide that pie the needed length
Into their cubby hole nearby
Like that!, they’d be gone with the pie
12/12/18
Categories:
cubby, christmas, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Organ grinder
Meat grinder
Bump-and-grind
The workday grind
Get up, get out of bed
Drag a comb across my head
Yeah, Yeah, Paul: You knew that was coming --
Go to work
Pour the coffee
Water the plants
Sharpen some pencils
Head for the water cooler
Trade some stories...gossip a bit
Stall...stall...stall...and stall some more...
Get to the meeting on time
Look engaged
Back to my cubby
And then:
What's this? A poem?
A what? A poem!
A poem appears
comes flying from my fingers
onto the keyboard
up on the screen
read... saved... printed …
posted on social media... 'liked'
All over the internet
Gone viral
I'm a thing
a downright event!
Yeah, sure I got canned
Of course...
Know anyone looking for a new poet?
December 03, 2019
Predictable Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Categories:
cubby, work,
Form:
Free verse
Books and erasers on pencils
Alphabet and numbered stencils
A plastic chair attached to
A desk reserved just for you
Chalk boards are for taking notes
A cubby for backpacks and coats
Milk and cookies for a snack
Music and stories are fun
Recess in the warm bright sun
Taking naps to get some rest
Learning skills put to the test
Baby dolls--red fire trucks
Show and tell with baby ducks
Time out's by the corner wall
Bandaged boo boo's when you fall
Memories are being made
From this kindergarten grade
Helping you to learn and grow
As each lesson always flows
In your memories and heart
They will never leave or part
Categories:
cubby, children, kindergarten, school,
Form:
Rhyme
Edward Snowden
When Edward Snowden* snowed in,
no one thought it a sin,
save the snooping sultans who froze.
When on the run or cubby-holed, for friends, he had only woes.
11 jul 13, Clerihew
* Eddy is a former NSA systems analyst who recently leaked details of U.S and British top secret mass surveillance programs.
Categories:
cubby, america, international,
Form:
Clerihew
The widows
Poignant thoughts
Dreams and hopes
War torn
Distant past
Life's cut in
half
Cubby hole
Spiders web
Sitting all alone
Crazy maze
In a daze
Life stood still
that
Very day
Days of bluesy
Jazz tunes
Miles made me
Smile some
Blowing solos
During
Halfmoon at
Halfmast in
Contrast
Still lifes
Ecthed in
Black and
White
Details of
Long ago
Brought back
To life again
Once
More..
Categories:
cubby, blue, deep, devotion, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
The clues are there.
The notes.
The writing.
The phone numbers.
The calendar.
Especially the calendar
holding all the secrets
of what was done and will be done.
He is bent over the cubby-holed desk,
slippers, flannel bathrobe,
searching through the familiar
and seeing only the hidden,
the missing,
the opaque.
The crime?
Something stolen, precious
and worse,
it is just out of sight,
next to the words,
the notes, the writing,
the calendar.
Especially the calendar.
So obvious the number,
the day,
yet not now the season.
He finds her worried face again
and continues.
All those around him
keep it from him-
the secret is-
nothing is gone,
nothing was done.
The detective searches
for himself in the clues
of unravelling time.
Categories:
cubby, father,
Form:
Free verse
I was putting my things in my cubby.
Second grade, young, and not yet chubby.
Somehow I stood there
In my nighty-night wear,
I cried while asleep, “Dear God, help me!”
© July 21, 2010
Categories:
cubby, nostalgia
Form:
Limerick
Another season has started and he's ready to go.
For the Bobwhite Quail is this hunters foe.
He's one beautiful dog,but he's not for show,
for not many of birds have out smarted old-Joe.
He's been lying in the yard now for months on end
just waiting and waiting for a hunt to begin.
I'll walk up to Joe and say "It's time to hunt Quail"
then I'll open my tailgate and let out a yell!
Old Joe goes from sleeping to straight on his feet,
for this is one bird dog no other can beat.
I'll just smile and rub on his back
for I've seen Joe point to many to sack.
Old Joe has a gift like no other dog.
He once pinned a whole cubby inside of a log.
He looks like a pirate chasing after his loot.
Sometimes he'll just catch them and I won't get to shoot.
People use to ask me wherever we went
where I had found Joe and how much had I spent.
I would just smile and say,"I don't really know"
for no one could have my secret to Joe.
See now days men just scream and they holler
at beaten down dogs all strapped with tight collars.
If's it's a bird dog you've got and are trying to reach,
first you show love then you go teach.
A dog has to love what he's doing inside
or else he won't hunt,he'll just run off and hide.
For Joe's the best bird dog there ever will be
'cause I have loved Joe and he has loved me.
Categories:
cubby, friendship, happiness, dog, bird,
Form:
Rhyme
talk
listen
forgiveness
how many times
sin, repetition
who believes this bunk
this self righteous whining on
oligarchies thrive on our sin
sins they have created for just this
to contain the life of us, to feed them
The cubby hole retains its darkness as it should for it contains us and what they see as our blackened souls. The perforated screen between secludes and excluded as it intrudes on the inner workings of our guilt. Our guilt, the guilt they've orchestrated, and mined, since sperm met egg. These men of the cloth castrated by their own hands, cloaked in black and white, bathed in gray: sit and meat out the justice of the Lord in Hail Mary's?
incense burns
masking the scent of sweat --
petals fall
*Etheree & Prose poetry & haiku
Categories:
cubby, abuse, addiction, allegory, corruption,
Form:
Verse
In the car cubby,
Phones collide with each other
I'm feeling chubby
You build up your might
To start a play fight with me
Don't mean to be mean
As best friends and more,
We are two peas in a pod
I'm feeling skinny
You cheer me up some
We laugh and argue...cuddle...
And TMI things
Youngest in family
We are a match - say hello
Phones match, all dandy
Categories:
cubby, deep,
Form:
Free verse
The jumping jellies in wellies are singing like la la la
Space suited shells are quite adept at leaning through cubby holes and travelling for a long time. A long time is a lengthy length leaning. But not leaking for leaking is akin to leering and leering belong to lecherous old whales in suits sat on many benches in rows. Rows reaching raiding retching rumps. And rump steaks are mashed to a pulp by a size six hundred shoe having a hop down a stairway. Never mind the beeswax ear drums and kettle fish dance for ot is merely a movie shown here on a screen. A flat screen is often displayed on a suitcase isn't it? Wow how often the occurring jam configured jar invites the ham to a sandwich party. Quite often. But a table top clap is a riot of absolutism that abolishes apple pips. Eradication eating eggplants. Oooh mystic moo tune. Great. Dance then. Hahaha the sponges are riding the paperbacks. Hahah swan dip in the cup. Xxxxx colonisation z z z z at nineteen herrings hearing harpsichordists' to fourteen financially dynamic dynamited digital dogs. Z so why wobble wobble with curd then z z z z z z zbhvq at platform five six seven. Z
Categories:
cubby, allusion,
Form:
literary food for thought.
Self Mutilation:
(ah bet thar iz an app for that!)
within unlit partial "FAKE abattoir"
sans wardrobe alcove
where dust bunnies didst allures
completing a simple task among
my never ending (Matthew's) list
of domestic chores
this undertaking engaged
thankfully while completely clothed,
and scrounging on all fours
nonchalantly picking up scattered detritus
including food crumbs
potential critters hors d'oeuvres
the spouse (ideally seated
on this same swivel chair
dashing off these lines
linkedin with this Macbook Pro) -
housing at least four scores
of word documents, she espied
the cheeky opportunity
that triggered many wars
within arms length the taut outline
of me 'lil derriere - re: rear end
temporarily dormant versus
when flatulence roars -
posterior flank hie
could not de fend
she playfully poked her finger
that didst dis send
within close vicinity of sphincter,
where rectal turgid business height tend
(most likely this husband not alone
getting tushy twerked) inn me own coal
less cents great movements got made
jabbing ma bung hole
while i happened
to be "blindly" groping
upon darkly cutout cubby hole
i.e. without wearing bifocals/ spectacles -
envision a human mole
thus amply qualified her role
to be literal and figurative
pain in the ass vole,
where much to my horror a flash
of red hot poker blind
momentary rage, did lash
out at me, when aye espied
a kitchen knife and acted rash
(how cutlery got in closet floor
a minor mystery
and potential topic de jure
for another poem)
to brandish sharp edge
around abdominal area
grabbed handle with left hand,
thence commenced to slash
rhythmically thwacking
wrist of right hand
then quickly dropped sharp implement
(as like a man momentarily possessed)
before rendering permanent harm
with a river of blood to wash.
Categories:
cubby, 10th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Ten little fingers,ten little toes,
Tiny little eyes,and a cute little nose.
A little movement here,and a little kick there,
A sweet and tiny being,so handle me with care.
I know your feeling bigger,and I'm really truelly sorry,
Not long now,i'll be with you soon,so you don't have to worry.
Now don't forget to feed me,and I'd like a drink also,
I know we'll make it,just give it a while,and then we'll have to go.
I hope you got the nappies,and the powder and the cream,
I'm not particuarilly fussy,as long as it's not vasoline.
I really like the blue colour,the pink is pretty too,
I guess it's not my choice yet though,I know it's up to you.
A furry little bunny,or a cuddly teddy bear,
A bottle and a dummy,I'm sure that just seems fair.
Now don't forget to be ready,I'll try to let you know,
When I'm tired of this little cubby,cause then it's time to go.
Don't let those people hurt me,I'll do the best I can,
To come when you are ready,and the pain you cannot stand.
A few more pains,a push or two,or maybe three or four,
A little bit of ice and water,and then maybe even some more.
Oops,I think I'm ready,it's crowded now in here,
Just one more push,now don't be scared,there's nothing here to fear.
Aah,that's better,here I am,it feels so good outside,
I might even hang around a bit,as there's nowhere left to hide.
By Sharon.L.Leonard. 23rd,October,2007.
Categories:
cubby, adventure, funny, mother, ,
Form:
Ballad
Image of Carmel by the Sea by Pixabay.
Carmel by the Sea
Three-quarter distance to the city
the rose bowl parade's held,
paying a friend another visit
as if the golden gate is not
um, not after umpteen years.
she does a lot of shopping
touchy-feely, whatchamacallit
reveals the wherewithal that
we're still friends
an artisans treasure
trove, this cubby-hole of
Clint Eastwood's hideaway
from the city of the stars
to the city by the bay
an assortment of
artisan works sprawled out
crafted pieces tiny and
large all over the store
some chimerical or
a closer look or, white
elephants and then those
"I'll take it, how much!"
'twas, a closer look that
nabbed us of a Cedar Point
thingamajig, 'twas a metallic
tree attached to a rock
she picked the one on top
of this here tiered glass shelf
'tis the makeup of the store
with signs, "Do not touch and
do not hold, once you break
it, we mark it sold!"
while holding the metallic tree,
it separated from the rock,
which crashed through the top
tiered glass shelf center,
creating a v-shaped of the tiered
glass shelves beneath, causing
the entire display of all the metallic
trees and rocks crashing down
in front of her shoes as I stepped
back as an instantaneous response
that overwhelmed me.
a schoolmarm persona sorta
stood like posing for a photo
methinks she froze up, and while
standing bestilled, I cannot stop
myself from laughing, so I
paid the $400.
in 1980 prices, at least I didn't
walk home, 'twas years of a
point remembered till we parted,
and that occasioned me, the best
investment I ever made!
2022 January 18
*3rd Place*
Funny Memories
~~Natasha L Scragg: Judged 2022 January 28
Categories:
cubby, city, places, sea,
Form:
Free verse