Best Grosse Poems


A Christmas Story From Germany

‘Twas the night before Christmas in the little town of Oberflugelschweinsaxenmitcracklingewurst.
(There are some that are much longer; it isn’t the worst)

Now hier ist ze haus of ze happy family SCHMIDT
Und Herr Schmidt mit rosenconk giving ze gluwein a hit

Ze Schmidt kinder all excited - Santa Claus kommin to town
Und everyone so merry, mit big smiles, und never a frown

Und zere in ze garten ze liddle haus you know what for
Zose are ze shoes of Frau Schmidt sticken aus unter ze door

Und now here ist gekommin Santa Claus on der grosse toboggan
He is singin Oh! so merry cos he also had a noggin

See ze reindeer geklompin uberhead, leaving Lufthasa standingk
 Zen down zey are kommin - all ready fur ze Landingk

Ach! Meine Gott! Zey are heading for ze liddle haus in ze garten!
Kablunden! Blitzen ! Alles Kaput! Ze liddle haus Ist geflattened

Und Frau Schmidt ist runningk aus mit ze knickers round ze ankles!
Zat’s enough to spoil your Christmas; in ze snow it really rankles

 Fater Christmas zen ist sayingk: "Shtupid dumkopf reindeer - Heraus!
I gave you clear instruction to be landing on ze SCHMIDT Haus !!!!!"

Lotte Lehmann

Lotte Lehmann  (Sentanka)

Charlotte Lehmann
Die große Opernsängerin
Sie schrieb und filmte

Ihr Ruhm bleibt unvergessen
Und bot den Nazis die Stirn



Charlotte Lehmann
The great opera singer
She wrote and filmed

Her fame will always be remembered
And she defied the Nazis 



Charlotte Lehmann
La gran vocalista de ópera
Ella escribió y filmó

Su fama siempre será recordado
Y desafió a los nazis 


Note: Charlotte Lehman, known as Lotte Lehman, born in 1888 in Perleburg, Germany, and one of my relatives, was a famous opera singer in Europe and the USA. She emigrated from Vienna to the USA in 1937. She sang at the Metropolitan Opera in New York from 1934 to 1945. In 1951 she retired from public live and gave singing
instructions. One of her scholars was the well-known opera singer Grace Bumbry. Lotte Lehmann was also a writer and poetess and a filmmaker. She died in 1976 in Santa Barbara, California and was buried at the famous Vienna Central Cemetary in 1977.

Mal Das Grass Blau An

Mal das Grass blau an und du wirst auf Wasser und Wellen wandern!
Streich die Wolken in rot und orange und setz den Himmel in Flammen!

Fl ster zu den Sternschnuppen und reise am Mond vorbei!
Schau deinen Sorgen und deiner Angst ins Gesicht und bald wird die Furcht dich f rchten!

berspiele dein Leid mit einem l cheln und behalte deinen Humor!
Aber k mpf nicht gegen deine Emotionen an und denke dein Leiden ist dann schneller vorbei!

Schau unter die Oberfl che und lass niemand nach deinem Aussehen richten!
Kreire keine Zusammenfassung bevor du nicht an deinem Platz bist!

Forsche und mach Fehler! Das ist wie jeder lernt!
Glaube daran das es nie zu sp t ist und hab keine Angst dich umzudrehen!

Lass keine b sen Zungen deine Seele festnageln, sie k nnen dich nicht verletzen!
Du wirst herausfinden , dass Liebe existieren kann obwohl man keine Worte h rt!

Bleib in Bewegung und erinner dich, du lernst von der Vergangenheit aber lebe nicht in ihr!
Steh zu dir selbst!

Aber glaube nicht das Mitleid f r diejenigen ist die faul sind!
In Menschlichkeit, in Vergebung, das grosse Auftauchen der Mildheit!

Lebe, f r Leben ist es das gr sste Geschenk und es ist an dir es zu behalten!
Es gibt nichts das du nicht haneb kannst, es gibt nichts das du nicht sein kannst!


The Celtic Cross At Ile Grosse

The Celtic Cross at Île Grosse
by Michael R. Burch

“I actually visited the island and walked across those mass graves [of 30,000 Irish men, women and children], and I played a little tune on me whistle. I found it very peaceful, and there was relief there.” – Paddy Maloney of The Chieftains

There was relief there,
and release,
on Île Grosse
in the spreading gorse
and the cry of the wild geese . . .

There was relief there,
without remorse,
when the tin whistle lifted its voice
in a tune of artless grief,
piping achingly high and longingly of an island veiled in myth.

And the Celtic cross that stands here tells us, not of their grief,
but of their faith and belief—
like the last soft breath of evening lifting a fallen leaf.

When ravenous famine set all her demons loose,
driving men to the seas like lemmings,
they sought here the clemency of a better life, or death,
and their belief in God was their only wealth.

They were proud folk, with only their lives to owe,
who sought the liberation of this strange new land.
Now they lie here, ragged row on ragged row,
with only the shadows of their loved ones close at hand.

And each cross, their ancient burden and their glory,
reflects the death of sunlight on their story.

And their tale is sad—but, O, their faith was grand!

Ile Grosse means "Big Island" in French. The island, which lies in the Gulf of Saint Lawrence in Quebec, Canada, acted as a quarantine station for Irish people fleeing the Great Hunger between 1845 and 1849. In 1847 alone, 100, 000 Irish people traveled to Grosse Île to escape starvation, unaware of the hardships they would encounter upon arrival. Keywords/Tags: Ireland, Irish, Immigrant, Immigrants, Immigration, Refuge, Refugee, Refugees, Celtic, Cross, Grave, Faith, Religion, Christianity, Catholic, Hunger, The Hunger, Starvation, Great Famine, Potato Famine, Irish Famine Ships, Quarantine Station, Family, Families

Doctors Particularly Biomedical Engineers

Doctors (particularly biomedical engineers)...
really trolley train hard to keep track of patients

Eye tell ya we (spuds)
pulled up stakes after four yar
and zero scores ago living in Bryn Mawr
salutary heart and lungs figurative
storied Main Line Health medical network
latter part of June tooth thousand seventeen

approximately July first
same year bidding au revoir
bid good riddance account
to slumlord - hood did spat and spar
moved to Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
unsafe to ride bicycle without handlebar

economical, geographical, practical...
subjected by Grosse and Quade tyrannical czar
dom low income facilities housing
nattering nabobs of nihilism whose intellect subpar
candidates vetted by Jaclyn Geiger registrar
courtesy nepotism unexceptional manager

thanks be to her papa, she drives fancy car
unlike this pauper and the missus
limited to schlep near and not far
afforded by rattletrap motorcar,
no driving prohibitive number of miles,
crossing sketchy territory warning signs

picturing dangerous avatar,
(especially during inclement whee thar)
determining risk to forego
top manic kin Michelin
money grubbing cannibalistic
surgeon's earning equivalent silver star,

or comparable civilian rating touting specialists
while bonafide topnotch indivisible tailors swifty
stitch ink, viz tattoo back parlor shop whar
exemplary Patients Matter Always
buzzfeeding, inoculating, kickstarting...
healthy medical network,

hobnob, kibitz, schmooze...
drown lackluster lovelife at the bar
parting paramour with such sweet sorrows par
for the course during pouring rain how bizarre
necessitated our lucky find locating physicians
supreme nsync with Google high reviews

receiving, scoring, nabbing,
incorporating... truevalue re: vector and scalar,
we veteran trooper seasoned renters
luckily blessed chance
cost us pennies on the dinar
general bang for buck amazingly
found yours truly strumming his air guitar

pleasantly situated among picturesque poplar
resort within Skippack Village, a tourist
mecca for devout or 
secular gourmandizing, earning
catering and acquiescing savoir
ole mighty faire Benjamin
legally tendering expensive bazaar.

Glue Bill Whar Ming Dublin Down

Court hiss sea hove The Irish Times,
     this hum mere ruck can bloke
kin esse spy climb mitt till impact
     desiccation ravaging with choke

hold thee aim rilled isle,
     which haint ok key doke
cuz won hoot rook froom sun
     whelps like heretic burned at stoke!
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -   
More to the point (meaning jaw
ken minus **** faux
hackney poetic strung bow
Willy Wonka barely understandable

     twanged and twinged) accent
hen reed how, accomplishment
in garnering alarming
     news-worthy ailment

     while this Unit Aryan ensconced
     within beef hoar tee four comfortably
     numb burred battlement,
here at Highland Manor,

     I pay (if totally tubularly pennies rolled)
     approximately equaling bedazzlement
17,500 viz copper cent,
per month gratuity clement,

sans Grosse and Quade
     associates co-management
offered rental assistance congruent
(predicated on social security disability)

     to occupy one bedroom
     apartment kept air 
     conditioned 60°Fahrenheit
     perfect for concupiscent

     activity, albeit unfortunately marriage
     shot thru with celibacy
     suppressed sexless existence
more difficult to control

     than catching a tiger by the tail,
     hence this damned delinquent dependent
Dickensian dada cooly cruising thru
      cyberspace espying embodiment,

how measurable heating up
     Gaia, i.e. Mother Earth (she) evinces
     no illusory figment, and just by a fluke,
     the spontaneous Google search,

     keyed revealed tumy mine eyes,
     wretched webpage showed
     stark rising temperature gradient
Dublin, Ireland experiencing

     worst drought since
     records began 168 years ago
where Irish Water (utility)
     warned Dublin would run out of water
     in 70 days, a “worst-case scenario”
     necessitating hyper-efficient
protocols immediately inherent.


Froggy

Once upon a time, I found this frog,
It was so cute, sitting on its log.
Ribbit ribbit it spoke to me,
Its words depressed anyone could see.
Ribbit ribbit it spoke again,
For it was asking to be my friend.
So I picked it up, and gave it my heart,
Until one day something funny would start.
Ribbit ribbit it wanted a kiss you see,
The funny thing is it wanted it from me.
Grosse I thought I cant kiss this frog,
That was all by its self sitting on its log.
Days went by, we were still best friends,
Until one day to the forest froggy I would send.
So I went back to the place we met,
And on its log, froggy I set.
Crying I told it I have to do this,
Isn't being free what you wish.
Ribbit ribbit it replied, it hopped on my lap,
And started to cry.
I set it down, back on its log,
And broke down and kissed my friend the frog.
I stood up crying, and started to walk away,
Until I heard a voice trying to say.
Hey come back, please don’t leave,
I turned around, what was before me I couldn’t believe.
The frog was gone, before me a princess,
And we've remained lovers ever since.

Long Since Stopped Binge Reading Bertrand Russell Ii

Slow and methodical 
thru telling material I tiresomely did wade
steeping yours truly signature 
writing stock in trade
while sprawled out on bed housed within
one bedroom apartment (B44)

Highland Manor Apartments
(situated in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
owned by Grosse and Quade),
one of the largest residential
property management firms in this area.

Analogous to basking robin luxuriating
within his/her medium of taster's choice,
I experience with exultant and exuberant
express within poetic quasi-motto rejoice.

Book learning brings me tremendous delight,
whereby my mind soars to immense height
despite eyes forced to shut courtesy blinding light,
nevertheless joie de vivre prevails gleaning
precious nuggets of knowledge to ease
penurious and precarious penniless plight
prompting provocative dreams tonight.

Figurative meaty tender vittle morsels
temporarily appease appetite
dentures no drawback into juicy tidbits to bite
impossible mission countless passages to cite
each page chock full
food for thought delight

either factual or fictitious
voluminous tome doth excite
buzzfeeding Dharma bums' fanciful flight
occasionally curiosity finds him (me)
scrutinizing mind boggling gametophyte

phase regarding plants,
(the dominant form in bryophytes -
mosses and liverworts -
reproduce by means of spores
released from capsules),

less familiar to most people, I highlight
smattering botanical information insight
nsync with tidbit
about mineralogy namely jacobsite,
a black magnetic
isometric mineral MnFe2O4.

Fifty plus shades of gray matter (mine)
undergoing voluntary torturous subjection
i.e. stoking, perusing, and manhandling
a heavy (Sisyphean) subject matter
(honest to dogs' truth),
I Kant understand a single word!

Schwartzwaelder Traume

Der schoene Schwartzwald wo man wanderen kann,
Die Natur reich und wohlhabend,
Der Prinz und die Princessin wohnen da in ihr Chalet,
Sie baeckt schoene Kuchen und er baekt schoenes Brot,
Nachmittags sitzen sie zusammen mit ihre Freunde im Kaffee,
Haben eine schoene Tasse Kaffee und Schwartawaelder Kuchen,
Dann gehen sie wandern auf die schoene Wanderwege,
Grosse Tannen und huebsche Baueme wachsen da,
Voegel zwisheren melodisch und singen ein schoenes Lied,
Abends kocht sie eine fantastische Mahlzeit mit Kartoffeln,Fisch und Gemuse,
Sie singen zusammen und sie spielt Klavier,
Was fuer ein herrliche Tag es war zusammen.


Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz

Twelve Seconds In a Minute

Another empty minded conversation held in silence
My epilogue scribbled on a napkin 
A sobering dose of reality and the duality of the mind
Tied down with twine kept held together through the riggers of time 
Best if sipped like fine wine 
the inverted view of the converted saint 
Ain’t life swell 
Sometimes a living hell 

As the bell tones 
Mild groans as the mind pressures its frame 
Grosse collection of memories that are filled with surprise 
Suppressed by speech I learned everything no one can teach 
The leech bleeding time dry 
Under the radar scrapping by 
A bleach that digs down deep to remove the stains of sin 
Inclined to tell the truth 
Just the curse of youth

A tactician in fact please listen 
My words are superba 
Melodic with a hint of super sonic 
A tonic that carries the chronic chiller 
Extravagant killer hitting with a slight delay    
No longer able to hold feelings at bay 
The sunlight of a dreary day 
Simple appeal with the ability to steal your heart from your chest 
I’m not blessed just a crest of a wave waiting to concave 
Are you brave enough to save yourself 

Twelve seconds in a minute 
Grin and bare it 
Unbearable, incomparable, silent strong and sobber 
The last four leaf clover

Log Rhythm Intercepts Highland Manor Sloped Basin

Nature made convenient sluice, 
when pool water did wend
     down the gentle slope 
     describing gargantuan wetsuit vend
 
er steadily chugging, chiseling, 
     and channeling straight away 
     blindly coursing upend 
ding (mankind imposed) 

property boundaries demarcations tend
with futile diligence, 
     asper the whimsical barenaked lady's 
     propensities, viz mother nature 
     made short shrift send
ding hours of surveyor labor down 
into the behavioral sink also rend 
 
ding inhabitants within the flood plain 
     to vacate premises and return, 
     when storm didst abate
comically shaking angry fist 
     at darkening non sheltering sky -
 
     faux imitating to berate 
meteorological processes 
     many complex systems create
the downpour seemingly 
     appearing (to me) rainier date
 
then years gone by scattershot memories, 
     (which figurative, somewhat unreliable 
     yardstick of boyhood) did equate 
climate affecting 
     Southeastern Montgomery, Pennsylvania,
 
     registering *****sapiens ultimate fate
burgeoning population, which impact great enough 
     for this lix spittle country bumpkin to ejaculate 
(not prematurely) Hawaii hate 
to reckon my environmental impact doth irritate
 
fragile ecosystems, and  
     holistic lifestyle aye would trade 
     (hint...mebbe ya know 
     of eco-centric intentional communities)
     even (yes absolutely) 
     necessitating sweat of brow spade 

work agreeable to this sometime joker     
renting from management Grosse and Quade, 
who primarily bolster increasing monies to get paid, 
perhaps partnership incorporates hiring maid 
service for their own households,
  
     no doubt beds get properly made 
     yet, this regular John Doe (dependent on 
     social security disability because 
     debilitating panic attacks undermined
 
     ability to function found (yours truly) laid 
up (prior to acquiescing strong suggestions 
to accept prescription medication), where grade 
to cope much less steep, plus un huff frayed,

now rowing tha old skiff to destination 
     for to long not fostered and delayed 
(christened matthew scott harris) to feign charade
nod duh so merrily lee down the time stream.

Heavy Is the Weight of Hard Labor

and providing for a large family.
barely existing, he carries the burdens
of ages before and in time to come, 
in pride.
He is exhausted with age;
his hands are trembling.
With compassion and understanding
he gives generously to those with less.
Honor him-he is your father.

Schwer wiegt das Muehsal von harter Arbeit 
und der Daseinskampf, fuer eine grosse Familie.
Ein Mann traegt die Last von einem Zeitalter 
der Vergangenheit und der 
Zukunft fortschreitend  
mit Stolz und Schaffenskraft.
Er ist erschoepft mit den Jahren.
Seine Haende sind rauh und 
schwielig geworden.
Mitfuehlend und verstaendnisvoll,
schenkt er grosszuegig anderen,
die weniger haben.
Ehre ihn,er ist Dein Vater.
© Hilde Bird  Create an image from this poem.

Grosse Hamburger Strasse

While I clung on the 
memory of yours, while I 
waited for your noise 

to make I was stopped 
by the motionless on the 
Grosse Hamburger Strasse.

Berlin became my 
second skin and I happened
to turn into a 

pale improbable
heartmark on its murky and 
woe-coloured pavement.
© Diana Bosa  Create an image from this poem.

Witness Breakout Talent Which Aired Jan 13 2020

Witness breakout talent which aired Jan 13, 2020
on America's Got Talent: The Champions episode,
which starred Youtube phenom Marcelito Pomoy

Words superfluous to attempt
registering apropos accolade
of modest Filipino, whose
dog given gift to belt out
jaw dropping, eye opening,
heart stopping, ad nauseum
vocalization merits deserving

laudatory praise haint no charade,
cuz aforementioned young man
warrants his own
yellow brick road esplanade
his pronounced nonpareil ability
automatically, instantaneously, unequivocally
promotes him to meteoric rise highest grade
way above stratosphere of mere mortals

into pantheon where select angels invade
celestial sphere (think Thomas Kinkade,
whose painting skills indubitably made
admirers of his creations invariably wish
to merge and become overlade
with bucolic, exotic, kinetic...
more picturesque than Grosse and Quade
found with environs of Schwenksville,

yet some idyllic and rhapsodic utopian
place where sounds of nature serenade
said metaphorical description falls short
how his raw emotion
(aching with divine amazing grace)
collaborates, communicates, consummates...,
poignant rappelling, scaling, traversing
across moost rugged landscape unmade.

Ye too must get linkedin
to the following webpage
https://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=hcgvYr2nlrk
heals analogous as mental,
physical and spiritual triage
world wide web inadequate

for Marcelito Pomoy stage
suddenly... melts away
the global hostility and rage
moments ago unbeknownst
anonymous to yours truly,
a veritably unknown
outsize venerated personage
with megawatt smile,

catapulted amongst luminaries,
whereby me feeble and
lame attempts to craft far less
brilliant literary evocations,
nevertheless no overdosage
of audiological exposure
to savor and espy breath-taking

visualization of entrancing
fantastic gracious holy image,
now impossible mission
to decouple myself toward
listening and watching
mesmerizing powerful fellow,
who I admit unwittingly
voluntarily holds me hostage.

Even If Yours Truly Could Repeat Every Grade

Even if yours truly could repeat every grade...

Without fail, I would flunk preschool
farcical scenario aside
truthfully, metaphorically, emphatically
resigned to life as replayed
male live violent scullery maid
forced to spend existence locked
within veritable grotesque
dragon filled dungeon paid

existential dues many times over
horrible nightmarish masquerade
eternal punishment cruel fate 
refuses to trade
redemption condemning freedom to fade
prefiguring edge of night
mental dark shadows shade
purposefulness reduced trite
poetry without reasonable rhyme

sole recourse to vent bitter tirade
black bile coursing thru
at woebegone permanently delayed
jollity sabotaged travesty
utter ignominious parade,
no surprise violent rage
bubbles up inside decayed
corporeal flesh, where psyche slayed

fledgling inchoate willpower
self destructive courtesy inherited
ignoble misdeeds displayed
havoc struck in utero a frayed
fetus, where mutated
deoxynucleic acid double helix played
out flawed biological blueprint
fetish, obsession, and zealot

regarding straggly tangled mane
salt and pepper grayed
quiescent, indifferent, and ambivalent
once upon a time
flirted deadly escapade
sought out anorexia nervosa
frankly zapped, starved, and
deprived critical decade

destructive, imperative, and operative
diabolical, inimical, and maniacal aide
de camp conspiring, kickstarting,
snapchatting umbilical cord strangling
again allegorical besieging enfilade
machine gunning, fueling,
and endowing tirade
erupted earlier today – 4:00 A.M.

spouse, racket she made
November 25th, 2019 waylaid
ordinary placid quiescent ruminative...
state, whereat as iterated I conveyed
or tried to elaborate intense anguish
thorny debacle arose
filleted here at Grosse and Quade
owned Schwenksville property.

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