Best Fridges Poems
Today I present an old poem, written at least a decade before "Doubts". What this poem lacks in poetic format, and style, it reaps in sentiment.
Enjoy:
the Girl Who Ate the National Park
I was picking apples, from polystyrene
boxes, when she held aloft a spiky
green football and her excited voice
asked, “What do you call this?”
She named it durian. I didn’t know,
and pulled a lettuce from its packing.
Harvested multigrain rolls
from bakery bins, and hunted
sandwich ham from fridges.
I laid our picnic mat down
amongst market gardens, and planted myself
to grow in her company. Uncorked
a shiraz in a vineyard, and savoured
her smile. Pulled an apricot from the cooler,
in an orchard, and hungrily
consumed her words.
She took to the park's paths
like shopping aisles. Selecting ingredients
for a salad from green foliage shelves.
She chose a duck dish
as it flew above us, and decided on a fish,
as we watched it swim
beneath the waterfall.
Then as we left, she created a desert
from the trees.
Her touch stopped me. Rooted
me to the spot, where we ravenously
embraced. Our feelings blossoming
around us. Forming a canopy
which we took shelter under,
and bore fruit, that we ate together.
Our appetites sated.
I get pretty picture postcards
from faraway places,
not many but over time
they accumulate
on walls, fridges
and marking pages in books.
Mostly from old girlfriends
writing to prove
they are still alive.
"Amazing scenery, wonderful people,
haven't had a decent cup of coffee since Montreal,
watch out for the water in ice cubes.
Wish you were here (Not!)
all my love xxxx"
Still on a dull grey morning,
a message from Mexico, Italy,
Vietnam or New Zealand
is at least intriguing.
Me, I never send postcards
as I never go anywhere
but I get pretty picture postcards
from faraway long ago bitches
every now and then.
Kept in the fridges of
kitchens of my land, the
King of Condiments is
Known to enhance french fries!
Kids at heart love it, so
Kick off your morning with
Ketchup on scrambled eggs!
March 10, 2017 for Pleiades K Contest of Kim Merryman
I have seen Millennia in
and now its twenty fifty
I somehow made my century
rejoycing with my family.
It has passed it seems
in the mere eye blink.
Now I remeninsce
held close in loving arms
Festivity floods the senses
stores groaning with toys.
Butchers laden with meat
people scurrying hither and thither.
Shop fronts all lit up
with flashing decorations.
Children's eyes on beanstalks
wish lists growing bigger.
Fridges crammed to the brim
with tempting tasty treats.
Good will for neighbours
as carol singers carousol.
Mothers sweating over stoves
as Dad mixes up eggnog.
Presents colourfully wrapped
adorn Christmas trees feet.
At end of day, happy faces
and a few groaning bellys,
people falling into bed
T'is all done for another year
written 12/12 /2010
contest Christmas past, present or future
The kids are in bed - there are dishes to do
Some washing, ironing, paperwork too
Children, office, housework, sometimes I think life’s hard
But it isn’t really, not when it’s compared
To my mums, who rose up early and who was never late
Lighting the coal fire, sitting in the grate
She then cooked breakfast on a range,
Haven’t things for me, now changed?
Over the range for hours mum would slave
Cooking meals, whereas I have a microwave
And a vacuum, to clean this house of mine
Mum used to beat rugs on her washing line,
I have gas central heating, to keep the house warm
For my waking up to electric alarm
Then straight into the bathroom to have a shower
With instant hot water, mum had to wait hours
For the water to boil in her dolly tub
With its mangle, her weeks washing to scrub
A washing machine, daily, washes my clothes
What I’d do without it, heavens knows
And only a larder and pantry had mum,
No fridges or freezers, with meals ready done;
Between rudding steps and the range black leading,
She always had time for games and for reading,
My children don’t bother to go out to play
They stay in their rooms, on computers all day,
I guess each generation, has its ‘hard times’
I suppose at the moment, I feel this is mine
But, on reflection, of the life my mum had
I consider myself lucky; my ‘hard time’ is not so bad.
© Janette Fisher – June 1995
I wrote this poem about 15 years ago when I was a bank manager and my girls were about 12 and 10
In our neighborhood during the second world war
At the side of each house were a porch and a door.
And, believe it or not, it was always unlocked
When a tradesman or stranger or visitor knocked.
Around dawn men arrived who at doorsteps would lay
All the baked goods and milk patrons needed that day.
And the women would once a week purchased their meat
From the truck of a butcher who stopped on our street.
Before fridges, remembered by we who are old
Was the ice box in kitchens that kept the food cold.
Using tongs, blocks of ice were delivered by men
Who before they had melted would come back again.
Also, door-to-door salesmen would try to persuade
All the wives that their products were best ever made.
And our neighbor would daily come by for a spell
To a recipe share or with gossip to tell.
In the middle of autumn, the coal truck returned
To replenish the piles that the furnace had burned.
Down long chutes made of metal would tumble and roar
Tons of coal that filled bins on our bare cellar floor.
Roving hobos quite often would rap on the door.
Without jobs or a home, they for food would implore.
The depression still lingered, so mothers would feel
Sympathetic and always provided a meal.
And to parents'displeasure, the screen doors would bang
As kids hurried from houses to be with the gang.
We would gather on lots that were vacant to play
Or would wander the countryside nearly all day.
When it rained, on a porch that was covered we'd meet
To with checkers or Clue or Parcheesi compete.
We swapped marbles, pitched pennies, played poker for fun,
And our comic books read till return of the sun.
At the back door we'd weekly the paper boy pay,
And the mail was delivered then two times a day.
If it weren't for the doctor who'd come when we call,
We would never had needed a front door at all.
Hello folks, I am your loyal fork - but had to laugh
At a comment below' hard to find a loyal one nowadays',
Fish knives are smelly,
Many centuries ago, designed for the sharp edge,
To be away from your face,
So that your nose did not have to brace
Itself, and your mouth was prepared to swallow,
This unsavory taste,
And therefore there was no waste,
No fridges or coolers in those days,
Had to eat what was served, spices and herbs
helped in many ways!
The soup spoon, seems somewhat tubby,
And looks a little, as did mummy,
But ouch, she wouldn’t like that,
She was only just a little bit fat!
But you, the steak knife, who do most of the work,
As you cut through rump, sirloin, pork or fillet,
Your duties like a military man, you never do shirk,
You master all foods proudly, we, the rest of
The cutlery in the drawer salute you,
Deserving of your Officer’s rank,
And we always rally to your defense, and flank
Each side of the dinner plate,
In every continent, country or state.
But who is the flirty one in the cutlery drawer
Why, the dessert spoon of course,
Used puuuurfectly seductively,
To scoop up deserts,
I, says the dessert spoon, make men drool,
As I lift my self erotically, to my mistress’s mouth,
Leaving some ice cream on me, which
She licks with her tongue, I assist her mischievous
Acts of eating with me,
As I enjoy the electric sensual romantic mood,
I’m no bodies fool!
Hey what about me, said the butter knife, as I slip
And slide through butter, and spread this indulgence
With lots of calories and love on your bread,
And of course dear little tea spoon,
Who stirs sugar and milk in your coffee or tea,
Don’t forget me!
So this dilemma as to who is the most
Important in the cutlery drawer,
Is easily solved
All eating utensils are equally involved.
The kids are in bed, there's dishes to do
Washing, ironing, paperwork too,
Children, office, housework, sometimes I find life hard
But it isn't really, not when it's compared
To my mum's, who rose up early and was never late
Lighting the coal fire that was sitting in the grate,
She then cooked breakfast on a range,
Haaven't things for me now changed.
Over the range for hours mum would slave
Cooking meals, wheras I have a microwave
And a vacuum to clean this house of mine
Mum used to beat rugs on her washing line.
I have central heating to keep the house warm
For my waking up by electric alarm
Straight into the bathroom to have a shower
With instant hot water, mum had to wait hours
For the water to boil, for her dolly tub
With its mangle, her weeks washing to scrub,
A washing machine daily, washes my clothes
What I'd do without it, heaven knows.
And only a larder and pantry had mum
No fridges, or freezers with meals ready done
Between rudding steps and range black leading,
She would always make time, for games and for reading,
My children son't bother to go out to play
They stay in their rooms, on computers all day,
I guess each generation has its 'hard times'
I suppose at the moment, this must be mine,
But, on reflection of the life my mum had
I call myself lucky, my 'hard time's' not so bad!
in the supermarket
i need my
shopping trolley
for protection
protection
from the product
promises
of
redemption
&
immortality
protection
from the people
the masses
of
crazy consumers
crying
for the truth
in a place
filled
with more
fluoro lighting
than
heaven
a place
where
great hunters
hang
around
fridges
full of frozen
fish-fingers
&
piss
in each
others ear
about
how food
has
no flavour
anymore
Ole kero fridge went om om om,
like the Hari Krishna chanting chums,
a portal opened in the room,
3rd eye of a child in tune,
at 4 i saw 40 grey of dead,
boogyman.
Don
The grey bastards filled my room,
I'm insane you'll assume,
watch them Kero fridges snide....
Don
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xc_mMeIZTzQ
I came onto my street today
I stood in shock and awe
vast piles of garbage,in front of every house
is the sad sight that i saw
Its called a clean up so they say
but for this waste we all will pay.
majestic forests felled with greed
to satisfy our useless needs
tvs ,fridges,piled up high
this wasteful sight makes me just sigh.
buildings sore up to the clouds
heartles structures of glass and steel
their only claim is eye appeal.
and who lives in these ivory towers
multi nationals full of powers
plundering earths bounty
from above the city
for mountains of cash its such a pity
useless mountains of paper cash
to produce what?
these mounds of trash.
next time you buy that useless crap
two dollar shop or xmas wrap
make your next clean up pile be small
because it will really help us all
All is calm, it is Christmas night
Time almost still in reverence
Shutters pulled, streets empty, bare
A Holy silence reigning
Holding it's presence to celebrate a birth.
Panic over, presents exchanged
Fairy lights peep through drapes
Little ones tucked in - depleted
Weary Mums sleep in easy chairs
Dad's still playing with toy trains.
Children come home from abroad
To rekindle after years of parting
They tell safe tales of life and travels
Mothers weep, joy and sadness
They look back, they look forward.
Fridges bulge with turkeys and ham
Free range this and free range that.
Fruit cakes iced with winter whiteness
Decked with ribbons on festive tables.
Empty port bottles awaiting recycle.
Newly weds share their first Christmas
Some couples share their last.
Thousands of red candles flicker.
Youths play board games and charades
In some homes all hell breaks loose.
The Queen of England is on television
She speaks of God and of the economy.
The homeless man is sleeping
Somewhere in the Kerry mountains.
A friend took him his Christmas dinner.
Adeste Fideles plays out the night
A leaf blows down the sleepy street
The festive lights sway in the breeze
Christmas night is closing in.
Monday
It has come to my attention, that someone has been stealing from
the communal fridge. I notice that my own personal milk with my
name on the bottle is half empty, also three fingers of my KitKat
are missing. Please refrain, or action will be taken.
Tuesday
It has come to my attention, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see
my milk has been topped up, though, why two fingers of my
kitkat in a V sign just beggars belief. Just tasted my milk, you
dirty bastard. I will now be monitoring the fridge from my office.
You will be caught.
Wednesday
It has come to my attention, the camera monitoring the fridge
is now monitoring the ladies toilet. This is intolerable, you are
usurping my authority. Heads will roll. I will now be moving the
fridge into my office until further notice.
Thursday
It has come to my attention, my office has been penetrated,
the fridge is missing, and I find a ransom note on my desk.
I don’t know who you people think you're dealing with, but
let me leave you in no doubt, I will find out who you are, and
you will be dismissed.
Friday
It has come to my attention, a delivery of fifty fridges is
cluttering up the whole building, management is going
ballistic. I concede to your demands, please get rid of
them. Let us get back to you taking my milk and my biscuits,
my job, my life. Just leave me alone.
Thankyou.
I look at the old testament
and the laws were harsh
an eye for and eye
and a tooth for a tooth
Yet what were they trying
to achieve
peace, punishment and revenge
in an effort to stop the crime
The old testament
was about laws
to keep the peace
the new testament
Is about attitudes
to keep the peace
If you don't do the crime
you don't need the laws
a friend of mine told me a story
about a man that got married
they decided to have roast chicken
taking out the chicken
His wife cut off the legs and wings
asking why, she said "that's, what you do,
my mother cut of the legs and wings
and I cut off he legs and wings"
catching up with the Mother he asked
"why do you cut of the legs and wings
when you cook a roast"
she replied "that's what you do,
that's what my mother did,
and that's what I do"
the grand mother was still around
catching up with her he asked
"why do you cut off the legs and wings
when you cook a roast chicken"
she said "I had a small oven
I needed to cut off the wings and legs
to cook the roast"
when the bible was written
they never had prisons
the laws were harsh to keep the peace
they never had fridges
food like pork would go off
to prevent getting poisoned
perhaps the laws were needed
but life has changed
we not longer need the same laws
we need to change with the times
we need to grow and learn
To build a greater path with love
to create attitudes not laws
to create love
not war
cars, knives, building, planes, boats, pens, computers, soda pop, lighters, money,
jewelery, tvs, tool, stoves, fridges, blenders, forks, spoons, guns, heater, ac, belts,
fans, canned food, batterys, toasters, washers, dryers........
what do all these things have in common. it's truly unnatural.
Form: