Best Cut Back Poems
Friends, fellow poets and countrymen, please lend me your ear.
I do not live in Australia, and I wish to make that perfectly clear.
I will not insult that country, for to do so I’d have nothing to gain.
To be so rude would buy me a seat, on Trump’s derailed a$$ train.
I am a patriotic American, this is where I choose to reside.
I love my great country, and by its laws I will always abide.
In our United States, you’re eligible to vote if you pay your tax,
giving you the right to bash Biden or ride Trump’s crooked tracks.
Don’t tell me my country is broken from over 8800 miles away.
You can kiss my grits for that slander! That’s what I have to say.
You dare claim America is broken? How would you even know?
Was it social media and Fox News, or did a little joey tell you so?
Your political intellect is subpar, your facts are drivel and fake.
Cut back on the amount of Gin used in your stale Kangaroo cake.
You make me laugh, attention seeker, because you are such a fool.
The blunder from down under is just a brash Trumpeting Tool.
I come to write, not to bury another country for its faults.
If you’re not an American, then it’s time your pen halts.
Stop the demeaning insults you keep slinging at our borders,
or people might start pointing out your disturbing disorders.
the new normal
I'm isolated, waiting
at home with my wife
adapting like others
to our normal new life
a few days, no problem
a week, it's a breeze
but, nobody said
there would be days like these
at first it was easy
cleaning, watching tv
I dusted, did windows
even cut back a tree
i worked in the garage
got my records in line
i found about ten
i didn't know that were mine
i've written a little
tried to keep myself sane
watching tv is trouble
watching people in pain
my hands are all bloody
they are rough, dry and raw
they are the worst looking hands
that you ever saw
lotions and ointments
I rub them all in
my joints all are aching
like that man made of tin
we cannot have fires
open fires are banned
we can go on outside
we can't move, we can stand
my wife's in the kitchen
busy counting the rice
she's doing it right
she's counting it twice
yesterday morning
she worked right till night
she sorted the pasta
and she did it by height
the walls have been painted
right to the door lip
she did it real nice
she used a q-tip
i've sorted my hardware
all my nuts, screws and nails
i've got some in jars
i've put others in pails
the floors are all washed
the cupboards wiped too
we're adapting quite well
i hope you are too
when the weather gets nice
i'll go cut my grass
i'll use a ruler and scissors
to help make time pass
this is the new normal
it won't change for a while
so, stay at home please
read this, and then smile
Wet Blurting
80 year Ole Francisco, yes he said,
off the blinking top of his head,
A bowel fix here today!
Ya know cheese blocks you up instead,
Don’t blurt in diss-aray,
Old people drop one, an go ooooh,
Some feathers in the fluff,
Sand Goannasa drowning in the stew,
Could fill ya pants plum duff,
So listen when I say,
Cheese slab every day,
You wont be farting other stuff,
No blinking bloody blanking way!
So figure out the dose to eat,
Explosive liquid aint so neat,
Constipation on ya creeps,
Cut back on cheese today,
No explosions in the hay,
Eat cheese ya bugger, sweet,
Fun blurting hey hay hey…
Don Johnson
Hey fever don’t like cheese, tuff ticky, adapt to a cheese diet…it bloody works!
My mind is open
It has to be
Yet find myself tangled
In a tree
The wind
It wrestles
The safety line
As I hang with the birds
A silent wind chime
The breeze of emotion
Blows this way and that
The sun on my skin..
Then the rain caveat
My silky voice trembles
I just shouldn't be here
"The fates have designed you
This landing place, dear"
The view is amazing
Every moment you fall
Yet get trapped in the elements
Every hail-storm and squall
When the branches entangle
They can claw and then tear
So come back to enfold me
Crease me neatly with care
I just want to return
To that whistling door
The propellor is cut back
And we step-out once more
For this view is amazing
But is there to be shared
I'm designed to be open
Not land-locked, ensnared
Yes our minds can be unfurled
It's the best we can be
The leap from the sky
What it takes to feel free
The Borg have nothing on the bees;
they act as a collective mind.
Instead of dominating worlds,
They leave a better place behind.
A bee’s life, rather short and hard
unless it happens you’re the Queen.
Twenty-five hundred eggs a day
leaves little time to primp and preen.
The gals do all the work, of course;
the morning route is fifty flowers.
Two hundred beats produce that buzz.
They travel fifteen miles per hour.
Collectively, when added up,
a hive will travel pretty far:
A spin or two around the world
to make a single honey jar.
They’re really not the violent sort;
a gal who stings thereafter dies.
A different type of stinger’s found
among the drone sex worker guys.
Their honey is the only food
you’d need to keep yourself alive.
So cut back on the chemicals
and make a world where they can thrive.
Blessed is this honey bee;
her labor gives us all our fruit.
No other living thing their prey;
oh, that we’d learn to follow suit!
—————
for the Bee Creative Poetry Contest
sponsored by Matt Caliri
written on 05/28/2022
Mother Rat
The queen of common suffering
is a pregnant rat.
She lifts a perfume atomizer
from a dumpster-
for its chandelier glint,
lilac smell,
mint vodka taste,
soft squeeze-bulb feel,
and 'pfffit pfffit' sound.
A good mother steals with all 5 senses.
She has fifty children.
She's a brown city rat.
She pretends it doesn't bother her.
Her littlest one is dying.
I have a powerful craving for poison.
I must be pregnant again.
Why are men so weak?
She has broad shoulders for a rat.
They haul the tools of litters:
shreds and bits and medicines,
extra beads of fresh blood.
I will provide.
There is no discussion.
While giving dinner, she asks,
Spray my haunches, would ya, Hun?
'pfffit pfffit.'
She's not without good breeding.
She wants to feel like she's
more than a good mother.
Wants to so much.
Just for tonight.
Before any pups can stow away,
She scurries out, humming
"I like the nightlife."
And just like that, she's free.
She's fat and happy and singing
and she's not ashamed of her tail
and she's strutting down garbage avenue
on hind legs like John Travolta.
Faster, faster.
Suddenly she's hiking through
centuries of rat narrative:
Rodent purges. Rat diasporas.
The 2nd Albino Civil War.
Bubonic Enlightenment.
The Norwegian Post Erotic movement.
Faster.
What's happening to me?
Please let it not be the arsenic,
not here in the promised land!
I've been meaning to cut back.
Her eyes are sparkling ruby beads,
but now they're flickering out.
Her long red tongue stands erect
between rows of inward daggers.
She is still beautiful.
Mamma cat
looked in the mirror…
I warned her: cut back
on treats or soon you
will no longer fit into
your fur! She licked
her lips, then began to
purr – shook her hips,
all four; legs supported firmly
atop each chubby paw – I sensed by
her feline attitude, that Friskies
were her beatitude --
Tail pointed toward the door,
Took I haste to the store.
I love this planet
The environment I hold dear
I say no to Oil
I say no to Plastic
I say no to Garbage
I say NO NO NO to carbon
Oh the trees breathe carbon?
I will have to look into that Ted!
I say no to meat
Those animals are carbon monsters
We all should hug this planet
Preserve this global biosphere for our children dear
You all must cut back
All of you
You may not pick and chose
What fits your fancy
No more vacations away for you
No more cars
No more planes
No more Computers or high speed trains
No more deodorant
It’s all passe
Clean air is my right, so all of you stop
I shall preach to you this, day in and out
I shall scold you for polluting about
I shall travel the globe, by air you see
To warn you all of the carbon to be
I need to fly, my time is important
My family comes first, but that’s only me
You must make sacrifice
All of you there
I spend your Carbon credits
Flying in the air!!!
Yours truly
Pascal Husting
Green Peace
One of Greenpeace’s most senior executives, Pascal Hunting commutes 400 kilometers each way to work by plane, the environmental group has admitted. The flights, costing about $365 return, are paid by Greenpeace, even though it campaigns to cut air travel, arguing that the growth in flying “is ruining our chances of stopping dangerous climate change.”
Notes: Of course I am for the environment, who isn’t? Time to stop blaming big corporations and even governments, even though they should do more, here’s a novel idea, if you don’t use it, they will go bankrupt trying to sell it! As for Pollution, if you are having a heart attack, a bandage on your thumb doesn’t do a bit of good. Solutions are complex and not as black and white as some make you to believe.
Kids today spend up to 7 hours or more a day
Watching TV
Using computers
Using phones and electronics
Not good for brains and bodies
Kids who watch too much TV
Play too many video games
May see a lot of violence
They might spend less time
Being active and creative
Asking questions and solving problems
Getting together with friends
Think about how you can be a role model
Try to limit your screen time too
Use your family time to play board games
Go for a walk or bike ride
Read a book together
May be Gospel reading
Dinner together
Keep TV turned off
Plan any TV watching
Choose 1 or 2
Appropriate programs
Watch
4142013
There Once Was A Man ...
There once was a man, oh so brave
Who would sleep in a hole, called a grave ...
Well, him being the host
To so many a ghost,
He arranged a big bash, called a rave
In days of Neanderthal knaves
When the men ruled like kings in their caves ...
and not being too keen
About keeping them clean ...
Often took on some wifes, called them slaves
There once was a man with a stave
Overseeing a holy enclave ...
Well, maintaining a grin
While absolving the sin,
He assessed wicked tales and forgave
There once was a monk with a wave
Who desired a head with a shave ...
Well, the barber was such
That she cut back too much
Thereby leaving his globus concave
There once was a man in the nave,
Although pious he could not behave ...
But they paid him no mind,
’Caus his name was maligned,
Being simply a sinner to save
There once was a man quite depraved
A voluptuous life was thus craved ...
Well, continuous sin
Ended doing him in -
On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’
There once was a monk with a wave
Who desired a head with a shave ...
Well, the barber was such
That she cut back too much
Thereby leaving his globus concave
We do things a little different here
Down on the farm
With chickens in the kitchen
Instead of outside in the barn
Pigs back in the bedroom
Watching Jeopardy, eating candy corn
Yes, we do it a little different
Down here on the farm
We have the cows over for dinner
Every Thursday night
Used to be more often
But not since the big food fight
The cows and horses don't get along
I really don't understand their dislike
That's why we had to cut back
To dinner only on Thursday night
The sheep pile into the Ranchero
Whenever we head to town
To stock up on their favorite Doritos
And licorice by the pound
When they get behind the wheel
They feel they're heaven bound
When ever it is those licorice loving lambs
Herd themselves downtown
Things seem to be running smoothly
Down here on the farm
We all do our on cooking and cleaning
So we pretty much get along
All except for the pigs
But that we should have known
We still are having a Whoop & Hollering time
Down here on the farm
CUT BACK ON "EDUCATION IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA"
AND AMERICA WILL BE,AN UNEDUCATED NATION,AND THOSE WHO CUT BACK ON "EDUCATION,ARE BRINGING DOWN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ,DEMOCRACY,AND MAY BE TRYING TO "CREATE "A COMMUNIST NATION"? THOSE WHO TRY TO CREATE A COMMUNIST NATION IN A SOCIETY THAT IS "DEMOCRATIC" IS "THE ENEMY OF DEMOCRACY" AND "MUST BE REMOVED FROM "POLITICAL OFFICE" IN A DEMOCRATIC SOCIETY!!!!! DEMOCRACY CAN BUY IT!!! WHAT POLITICAL PARTY WILL NOT FUND EDUCATION FOR AMERICAN CHILDREN WHO ARE OUR FUTURE? WILL THAT POLITICAL PARTY BE "ELIMINATED" FROM "AMERICAN DEMOCRATIC SOCIETY"???YES IT WILL!!!!! THIS IS RACISM OF THE "MENTALLY ILL"!!!!!
A Letter To Rose
Hello Rose,
I know that you have questions and have missed me as much as I am missing you. I do not like excuses, but there really is a good reason for my infrequent visits. Of course there are others, like Tulip and Lillie to whom I must give my attention;but you know that I treasure and favor you above all other flowers in my garden.
I know that this summer has been very hard on you, but there’s nothing I can do. As you know, we have been in a drought for the past three years and counting. My once green lawn that must now tolerate brown, is longing for more water; but the authorities require that we water lawns and gardens only twice a week.
I know how you must feel, and I am so sorry to have to treat you this way.
I feel your pain, and it makes me so sad inside. It makes me cry that your external beauty no longer shows; but yet, I love you no less, because your true beauty is deeper than the sea. In a little while, you will blossom again for me.
It hurts me that I can’t smell your sweet fragrance nor feast on your loveliness. Your beautiful colors of red, white, and purple, no longer embrace my front yard; nor do they grace my living room.
However, the weather people are predicting a wet winter that could improve things! I hope so, because I will cut back your branches, allowing you to grow new ones. And come late Winter and early Spring, you will burst force in splendor and elegance.
11072015 PS Contest, Ode To Flower (s), Hamilton;( PS Contest, Second Chance, by Broken Wings")
With no computer tying me down
I'm at a loss just what to do.
I've tried reading, crosswords, gardening
writing poems and stories too.
I've done woodwork, painting and cleaning things
the home shines like a new pin.
I've swept the paths and cleaned the windows
and given the hedges a trim.
When the computers been repaired once more
I'll cut back on its use.
No more hours of wasting time for me
No more of that abuse.
My nerves are in a better state
My blood pressure's been reduced
There's been no shouting at the screen
with a face that's coloured puce.
I can actually talk, so I've been told,
in a calm and peaceful way.
No bug eyed bellowing, sounding off
or ranting through the day.
I think I'm cured of computer sickness
I'm human once again.
So when that computer comes back home,
I'll leave the thing alone.
Really!