Best Hole In The Ground Poems
Before reading this one, please read one and two, it will help you make sense of the tale.
I became startled when the car came to an abrupt stop. Ricky reached into the bag and pulled me out again. I have to admit it was good to feel the light shining through my glass. There was also something comforting about Ricky's little hand wrapped around my neck. I'm sure if I was human that might be an entirely different experience. Ricky hopped out of the car and ran towards the front door of his home. I am not sure how to describe it. The house was more like half a house, they lived on one side and another family lived on the other. The building was not fancy, except two large picture window and several small ones the building was all brick. To the left of their home there was what looked like a vacant lot which was more a hole in the ground with a pathway rocks and trees. I could see other kids playing there and it looked like they had built a fort of sorts. It looked like a whole lot of fun.
I'm not sure when it happened, but who really does when it comes to such things. I began to hear Ricky's thoughts. Some of them were beyond the capacity of a mere Soda Pop like myself to understand. It was almost as clear as how you might see through my glass. I must say that it made my simple existance a whole lot more interesting. As Ricky's mom unlocked the front door I could see a staircase to the left and there was a living room to the right where the picture window was. The wall separating the two homes was made of concrete cinder blocks painted a creamy colour. Ricky ran towards the wall then left past a dining area to the kitchen. He jumped up on a stool to reach the kitchen tap. I don't know why but I really liked the stainless steel sink and the shiney chrome tap with a single lever. Ricky liked it because it felt like a gear shift in a car. He pushed it forward and filled me up with water. What a refreshing feeling although I must admit I missed the feeling of my bubbles and the colour orange.
The adventure of Soda Pop will continue, thanks for reading.
M.I.A.
There’s a space, next to me
Where he, used to be
There’s a cot, waiting for
Him to walk through the door
And the guys gather round
To hear if he’s been found
He’s missing
We were young, we had heart
And we knew, from the start
Going home, was the deal
If only that were real
And the guys gather round
To hear if he’s been found
Still missing
Then up, goes the list
Of those, who don’t exist
The heaven’s, open wide
Accept the human tide
And the guys gather round
Young and strong and proud
Line that hole in the ground
No longer…… missing……….
Just….. Missed
For Crosses in Your Eyes Contest
Once upon a time when no one was around,
A lost puppy was born in a hole in the ground.
When he ate scraps, he made the strangest sound,
A high pitch whine that would always resound.
He found a blanky in the streets that was profound,
And used it to hide to avoid the pound.
It soon became warmth when he was cold bound,
And made him the happiest when he frowned.
One day a girl saw him, and love did surround,
Took him home with care; he was a happy hound!
In loneliness and sorrow, he no longer drowned,
No longer was he lost; he was finally found!
___________________________________________
4.15.2022
Nursery Rhyme 3 Poetry Contest
Eve Roper
It is pointless to write with dull pencils
When a pen keeps the sheep safe at night.
And water can flow from a hole in the ground
As long as the spring’s not too tight.
Cargo is sent from a shipyard
But a shipment can go out by car.
A wise man is often superior
But a wise guy is usually subpar
Tonight I will drive down the parkway,
Yet park in the driveway at home.
No wonder I can’t speak this language
It only makes sense in a poem!
© Dean Wood
Oct. 26, 2017
~ the nameless ebony bird sings so mournfully -
the wind lifts your wings ~
poet's quote
A gaping hole in the ground
No tombstone or roses
White painted tiny coffin
angelic hands in prayer
A simple metal plate
with a number
No tolerance for fake tears
Justice must be a promise
Newborn child with the right to life
left under a bridge, naked
wrapped in a dirty plastic bag
The child didn't have a chance
in twenty-three minus degrees
A mother and father
abandoned his responsibility
their horrible secret
remains a dark shadow
Today’s been named World Toilet Day
So we should be aware
That lots of people have no place
To plop their derriere.
If you have ever traveled to
A site where you must squat
Above a deep hole in the ground –
You’d wish that you had not!
It’s sad for those in poverty
Who do not yearn for plush,
But would be thrilled if they, like us,
Had access to a flush.
On the second Punxsutawney Phil could not be found
Appears he had abandoned his hole in the ground
But they found a note
He was going by boat
Seems the stress was too much; he was Miami bound
A pretty oak sits outside my window pane in the snow and in the rain
Covered with life, outside the balcony fifty steps away
Decorating the tree with flashes of red, black, grey, yellow and white,
are his friends the cardinals , squirrels , chickadees and the tufted titmice
They sing , chirp, and chatter in harmony of song
As the seasons pass, we live thru heat, drought , cold and rain all year long
I keep my feeder close at hand and watch as they load up in waves of two and three
to make their run at the seeds and grain
The leaves are green now and vibrant with life, in the fall the acorns grow and my tree stands tall
At winter they covet the warmth and provide a shelter for the thick furred grey squirrels
A lovely little hole in the crook of the branch big enough for two to snuggle and borough
They race down these pathways in the sky, playful as skilled acrobats
October mornings the leaves are falling , making noisy whispering sounds
the first rays of sun turn frost into a million twinkling stars on the ground
The two winged take refuge in their nest , built carefully for warmth and rest
To nurse and raise their young , making them fit for another generation of the best
The seasons flow as a quiet pond and like our beautiful life
everything is real with very little strife
Among the colorful citizens of this merry place I give life in equal exchange
for joy and a chance To sit and watch my friends as I grow old and enjoy life in the sun
But life changes, very unfair , and I am denied my playground in the sky
one day some men came and cut all the beauty down
Now its gone all butchered and bare nothing left but a big hole in the ground
The Death of my Town
(for Bradford, West Yorkshire, England)
At first I was self-righteous and held the moral high ground
On approaching the imminent death of my town
Some days I would observe and shake my head
And say loudly “You know, I think my town might be dead!”
Looks on faces say should I no longer care?
What can we do for the people out there?
But the Town Hall had a plan
There was some government money in the pan
Which they spent on a big pond in the ground
To fill with water, applaud themselves and stand around
And that was supposed to revive our town
Bring it back to life so we could once again be proud
Visitors would flock from miles around
To bask in the renewing of my town
Which would filter round and round
Dragging us all up off the ground
Despite their plans, I did not know
Just how quickly the death would take
As I watched as the town’s thinning corpse
Wither away....and start to decay
I could not know how I would feel
When its lifeless body was at last laid out
That I no longer had the strength to shout
Or believe in those who had told us to be proud
But its people still hang about
Without the means or strength to leave
So they try to drown out the death of their town
By drinking and drinking and drinking until they fall down
And to those who were paid to save it and did not
But stand by and let it fall down
Wasting all that money
On a pond in the ground
I must believe the day will come
When they must pay for what they have done
At best competent
At worst nowt’
Because I refuse to understand
That all they could offer was a hole in the ground
To prevent the death of my once loved town
Trapping all those around
Whilst their confidence rang out so loud
Telling us all we had so much for to be proud
But knowing they were simply
Cursing us all to life in a dead town
Although I believe they can still get out.....
Drip, drip
Drip, drip
Melts the soiled soul onto
A dusty field of abandon
Fenced in by human limbed pickets
Yanked from the graves
Of broken hearts
Skeletal branched silhouettes
Clatter above the bloodless
Hole in the ground
The Ravens hide in the shadows
The shadows hide behind stone crops
The crops provide bountiful skulls
What is the illusion without a live audience?
Who, or what heard the solemn incantation of
Abra-Cadaver?
There once lived a woman called Lady-de Leisure, who turned not to men, but food for
pleasure.
She ate everything spicy and sticky and sweet, the poor lady could not even see her poor
feet. From dusk until dawn, all she would do was eat, drink, break wind, burp belch and poo.
But one day whilst eating her thirty fifth pie, the lady burped loudly, keeled over and died.
The funeral had to be held outside, but people they came to say goodbye.
The coffin itself, you’ve never seen bigger. The bearers were three forklift trucks and a
digger.
The hole in the ground was fourteen feet wide, and even then the coffin scraped at the sides.
So if you are thinking about being a lady of leisure, look elsewhere than food solely for
pleasure.
Two monkeys laughed their heads off in a tree.
It was because of the sight they did see.
There was a hole in the ground.
Three moles scratched and jumped around.
They were bitten by a lunatic flea.
© October 9, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
It wasn't all that long ago when a hole in the ground was where people would go.
Many grew sick from lack of hygiene so some one invented the pit latrine.
This greatly prevented the spread of disease. People squatted over a slab
and bent at the knees.
The first flushable was used by British royalty, a toilet that the commoner
would never see.
Chamber pots and out houses were used by many.
They composted the waste and saved a lot of pennies.
Years later dry toilets were used in most homes.
They had a wooden seat as their throne.
Some time during the twentieth century flushable toilets were
in every home you would see.
Tout allure and hello to a cleaner way.
A clever French man invented the bidet.
Is this too much information? Don't go yet.
The end of my evolution of the toilet.
Burrowing Owls are found in open, dry grasslands, agricultural and range lands, and desert habitats often associated with burrowing animals, particularly prairie dogs, ground squirrels and badgers.
Yes, I love a hole in the ground
(I didn't even dig it.)
but also circle and suddenly
swoop down on small scampering things
like Vole or Mouse
or listen for the faint susurrus
of Dragon's tiny wings.
Avoiding birdwatchers
(*****Binocularis)
That's the big problem,
I mean how can you hide
from snakes and hawks,
much less sleep a little
when a busload of birders
roars by stopping to point
out Badger's old burrow
while waiting for you to get up
and perch on a pasture post.
What's to be done?
They've studied you,
They know all your habits
and will out your burrow,
you can't really hide.
(Does the Legion accept owls?)
Then, I forget that when made
by God, evolution or both
I promised to define the sky
while steadfastly ensconced
in the beautiful earth.
Published Magnapoets/2008
There's a big Buttinski running around
King 'Mind Your Business' he should be crowned
On offense, he attacks
Good attitude, he lacks
He's digging a deeper hole in the ground