Best Drumstick Poems
Asleep before the head hits the pillow
Head filled with vivid colors swirling, amassing, mixing outside the lines
Transgressions grow skyward like a bean stalk becoming a giant
Worries wander aimlessly like a cat in the night looking for a spoon
Hurts pound again, and again, first a drumstick then a sledge hammer
The kaleidoscope of confusion rotates ever faster, bed spins counter
Places cannot be escaped
Faces stare as if clothes have been robbed
Running, Flying, Drowning, Suffocating, Garbling Words, Can’t Breath,
Slow Motion, Falling, Insatiable Hunger, Unquenchable Thirst, Blood Stained, Shouting
Loaded Down, Frantically Searching Pockets, Hidden Underneath, Forgotten
Fear. All fears. Nothing but fear. Afraid. Regret. Worry. I didn’t. I really did!
Each day we pack our pockets. Cram our purses. Load our backpacks
Hang needless objects and things around our necks, over our shoulders, in the crux of our elbows, on our belts
Grip suitcases. Carry stuffed plastic grocery bags on each knuckle. Waddling to the side of the bed before crashing head on
Unknowingly still pinching the key between our left thumb and pointer finger
Hitting the bed with a massive crash
every part of the day strewn around the room like a devastating mid air explosion of a 747 littering debris, miles and miles of destruction, charred remnants, unidentifiable and randomly placed objects, out of place, disfigured, often never found
Before your head hits the pillow
Drop the things you picked up today
Take a load off
Free yourself of your burdens
Neatly set everything aside
On second thought, just pile it and let it lay where it falls
Drop your yoke
Sit down on the foot of the bed with God
Hand Him the things you still cling within sweating red fists
Briefly Examen your day
Fall asleep on His shoulder
He will gently lay your head on the pillow, loft your feet off the floor, and tuck you in.
Let Him carry your burdens, lighten your load, unpack, empty your pockets, wash your laundry, even sort and match the socks.
Travel to sleep lightly and peacefully dreaming of a new day
carrying nothing but what is truly needed.
Jollof rice is honey comb,
Green pea and sweet corn ,
Eye appealing, wife of tongue;
Its roasted drumstick:
Lord of every plate;
Jolly rice,
Taste!
From the bottom of my heart
I thank you honey bee
for all that liquid gold
that's bought and sold
Your precious honey from your tiny womb
Yes God bless thy fine honeycomb.
But sorry for stealing
your liquid of healing!
And thankyou baa baa bleating sheep
for your warming fluffy wool
The cold makes the babies weep
and they could die of the cool.
Mother hen to you thankyou
for protein packed trays of gratis eggs
and forgive me, for delicious drumstick legs!
And mooing cows sorry for taking
your calf's milk we too love drinking
for cakes have to be baking
Ah, and apologies for loving those tasty fish fillets
Coated and fried in those fine sizzling skillets
And thankyou little silkworm
Silken dresses have been the norm
Deers thankyou for musk, and venison for the meal
Apologies to calves for partaking of their veal.
Ah thankyou God for all that food
If we thank Him not we're ingrates rude.
There’s a drumstick in the refrigerator and it’s calling out my name,
There’s some biscuits and gravy next to it and they are doing just the same.
How do they know me and what is it that they want me to do?
Do they really think that I can devour them any better than you?
Have my talents at culinary consumption reached such a peak,
That the food now requests some quality time nestled in my cheek?
With prestidigitation the food will disappear from my plate,
By slight of hand I’ll fill my mouth and then I’ll masticate.
I'm the best one to contact when there’s food around to swallow?
I don’t want to brag but I’ve never left the table feeling hollow.
Come to me you leftover foods allow me to fill your destiny,
For I alone can make you happy while you digest in me.
I got a neighbor
who has a dog named Spike
And there are two things
that mean ole dog don’t like
Spike don’t like cats,
and he don’t like clowns
Especially the cat burglar ones
The sneaky ones who try to come around
and steal his beloved master’s possessions
They try to get in the house
through the window or back door at night
You best believe that Spike
is gonna greet them St. Bernard right
Round about the late, late show hour
is human drumstick snack time
Spike is salivating ...
waiting
to take a bite out of crime
You best believe that
news has spread underground
Cat burglars beware:
200-pound fury is policing around
Spike is gonna dog collar
any perp
who try to enter
his territory unannounced
ARTE MAYOR*: Neither Cricket nor Football
Is this the way to prop A-first
Sock not oval ball overhead
Slam not round ball with drumstick dead
Cut not corporate tax: the worst
Hundred millions sweat till tv burst
Swamp Super Bowl cheer-leaders' tights
The day England scorned Wales' rights*
Would arméd football rugby durst
Catch not ball in leather-gloved hand
Watch how slip-fields pluck balls from air
Out-fields brave boundaries debonair
That's what cricket's in any land
Trumped-up charges make no A-men grand
Nor soft base balls stop eyes grow sore
A-1 Nation must make World soar
Hail Rugby! King Twickenham brand!
Throw missile back You Quarter-Back
Take no step beyond the Red line
Referee draws to keep the front-line
Push no further than ball in pack
The Golden Rule's not to kick back
Unless you're in scrum cheek to jowl
And lick the foe if he must growl
Block those horns in grid-lock Am-track!
Curve ball's By Gad no in-swinger
Reach first base sans one lone strike
Home runs no match sixes through dike
Stop runs coming through huge bouncer
Best way to take the World over
Scrap apéd games from lean memory
Learn to play ball gentlemanly
You'll need no Vinson carrier!
*Arte Mayor (Sp. Major Art) stanzaic form, the art of Archiprest de Hita (12th-13th c.): eight syllabic lines in eight-line stanzas, rhyming abba acca.
*England beat Wales in epic match at Cardiff to win Six-Nations' Rugby 2017 Trophy; the same day the Super Bowl was watched by 125 millions on TV. If the same audience could have seen the match at Cardiff, I'd wager that would have been the very last Super Bowl event in history.
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Love ensures splendid goal
Love always purifies our soul
Soul is inviolate
Soul perfumes best
Best friends join your race
Best practice is seed of success
Success brings pleasure
Success we need ever
Ever you smile best for me
Ever my heart jump with glee
Glee I harvest from your lips
Glee, that makes me fine & fit
Fit me within your eyes
Fit to scan all lies
Lie is ever white
Lie always invites dark night
Night is for dreaming at rest
Night I ever erase from your heart
Heart I select for me
Heart, that works as my key
Key to success, we need
Key should lock our greed
Greed invites failure
Greed, we should kill before it enters
Enter me with soft silky covet
Enter to sanctify our nest
Nest that I build for you
Nest i.e beautiful like spring's hue
Hue you ever housed in your thought
Hue, that I always ready to paint
Paint with your lips freezing my cheeks with palm
Paint me, fixing tight with your arm
Arm you need to ensure your safety
Arm that I have, never compromise duty
Duty is god, you know very well
Duty, if we neglect, it will ring our bell
Bell always rings before tongue slipping
Bell we need to strengthen our coupling
Coupling you made so tight & strong
Coupling that ever smiles for a long
Long long ago, I dreamed for a queen
Long live our love, transparent like rain
Rain like tear I hate ever
Rain in winter we need never
Never choose drumstick tree to fix our dangle
Never try to frail our well bonded couple
Couple always sleep within heavenly lap
Couple that we made to add success in our cap
Cap my head with your chilled ice palm
Lap me please.... after forming a single soul within four arms.
to the beat of the drum
my head bangs up and down
like i am some rockstar.
to the beat of the drum
i slam my hands on my legs
like i am holding a drumstick.
to the beat of the drum
i thump my legs
like i am banging the bass.
to the beat of the drum
i hurt my ears
like someone’s whispering to it again.
to the beat of the drum
dum dum dum
i feel numb.
The hush sound of the mountains
Such an eloquence that thrills the mind.
Beautiful landscape terrifies the drumstick;
Groits!
D blizzard environment, a scene to flourish the hyenas
D still waters, fogs sent!
Such blessing I dare refuse?
This beauty I long to hold,
For Cleopatra never heed the call,
The call for loins, the risk taken for it - àágùn.
I cease to wonder what the beauty of life brings!
Such a candour, its callousness offer
What a myriad of history, its experiences are!
Its cadence, mankind lives for
For this, I crave for?
An endless thought.
When thoughts precipitate, myriads of wits are birthed
The first strand of grey, has come to rule
For being seconded by its dryness
A still scent of cold; breath
Dis terrain - beauty for all
Turbans; the beauty I see more.
Hiaku a la Horn
Prim donna did pierce
Both of my ears pretty fierce
Each one hardly hears.
Knew from beginning
Ahead after last inning
We will be winning.
One of my big goals
Kick football between two polls
Then have choice of bowls.
Sickness does appear
When certain symptoms are near
Hope won't have it here.
Was a rebuttal
Which us seemed to befuddle
So we should scuttle.
Before it was found
We had to look all around
Top down to the ground.
Saw a big beaver
On team was a receiver
Even told big tales.
When you would ask me
If better want things to be
Live in land of free.
We want to be sent
America place I meant
Was no accident.
Loved it from the start
We came here from miles apart
Then had change of heart.
With us we will bring
You who always seems to sing
Rock and roll or swing.
Drumstick do prefer
Certainly loud noise for sure
More then can endure.
Thought that it was such a waste of space
putting one small, three line haiku all
on one page.
James Hilarious Thesarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Don't let other people play you for a chump
Change that
If you got wolves seeing you walk around,
looking like a tasty chicken drumstick
You need to change that ... change it real quick
Chumps tend not to make it to mature adult age;
they crumble easily,
like a week old, stale coffee cake
Every time a grifter sees you, they start to salivate
You're everyone's free meal ticket,
the free ride that never comes late
Don't be a chump,
you got to change that
Let them know
you're hip to what they're trying to do
Squash any thoughts
of someone trying to play you
Don't be nobody's fool
But still be yourself:
Be as kind as you can possibly be,
just don't be a sucker getting licked constantly
So don't be a chump,
definitely change that
Blink once when you see the con coming,
and boy you just lost your shirt and your hat
Don't be a chump,
change it
Exchange the marked bill
If you don't let them chump you,
you can bet somebody else will
Candy Cane
Sugar Pop
Jawbreaker
Lollipop
Turkish Delight
Caramel Strips
Coconut Bubblegum
Black Liquorice
Cherry Drop
Chocolate Money
Penny Sweet
Syrup or Honey?
Fudge and Toffee
Lemon Drop
Powdery Sherbet
Toasted Coconut
Bonbons
Drumstick
Marshmallow Fruit
Choc Lick!
Candy Cane
Sugar Pop
Jawbreaker
Lollipop
I met a jolly fisherman with hair as white as snow.
Everywhere he sailed his ship, the kids were sure to go.
He came down from the north, after a little nip and tuck.
Smack dab in the middle of his boat was a giant ice cream truck.
While he baited his hook, his elves would stir the cream.
The kids would come down to the beach and everyone would scream.
Could this man be Santa? Boy that would be slick.
How could someone catch a fish with chocolate push up stick?
The elves just kept on working, they seemed to never stop.
Little Billy swam on out for a drumstick and fudge pop.
The king cones all sat ready they were the next in line.
The snow cones didn’t taste that great, but the eclairs tasted fine.
The kids just kept on swimming and ate up every treat.
The sandy beach was all packed down from tiny little feet.
If you ever run out of bait, while fishing on waters blue.
Remember this little story, fish like ice cream too.
A Jolly Fisherman Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Warden
8/21/22
Young Tim goes to Zaire
to write his dissertation
in African Studies.
While there he meets and
marries a beautiful librarian
darker than he is, flies her
home to meet the family.
Tim's father asks his mother
if she knew about Margot.
Mother says she didn’t
but she’s not surprised.
On Thanksgiving Day
Tim likes the dark meat,
the biggest and meatiest
drumstick and thigh.
Donal Mahoney
where will i find her?
i will find her hiding
inside a triangle
humming, bent over
and sewed into
my many great grandmother's
signature
buried, saved
for the hungriest of winters
like a swan passing
white with long leaps
shapeless spirit
who keeps
herded colors
locked inside her
bone tooth box
stars on either side
the sweetest prayers
work best with tears
i will go crying in to the night
red all over
i will go dangling my song
howl for dawn
creativity
you told me to come!
my woman drummers drumstick
is stored, come straight
a thick and sticky swaddle
for my dream children
for all the ideas in my mind
help me
hear me
i am afarid of this silent birth
geometric babies
overwhelming strength
in words
i believe in the cloud
you float in over me
my needle
my thread
my fingers
this earth paint
every single sight and all the words combined
some say you are dead
gone with the rest of
our world hoop
ha!
i see you in the water
where you breath in the screams
of wishes
woman who you collect
drop by drop by drop
woman whose
skill is not enough for you
women whose
minds are not yet open
spirit i am aware that you presented yourself to me in my mind world last night and i am
here to sing to this song to beg and plead for you to pity me
prove the story my grandmother heard while inside her mother
about rainstorms
that bled glass
beads
shapes
rhythm
a steady flow
it all fell into my palm
only one woman every thousand years
here i am
it is me
shapeless spirit
you offered me the power to create
i accept