Best Hunkering Poems
Tom Turkey got lost 'midst the teeming flock,
Thus, avoiding the dreaded chopping block!
Hunkering down spared his life,
Averting the carving knife!
He now recovers from traumatic shock!
Homeless, destitute with nothing more then a backpack and cigarettes
down the rabbit hole she went, no linen tablecloths just stricken wood,
in a house of ill repute;.
She could not refuse the hunkering of a horny man who lived by threats
so she counted her bills and tucked them in her brassiere with a tear
She cringed when glass smashed and grinded her teeth when she was cold
it was a bordello made surreal by alcohol mellowed Johns who were so old
A bawdy crib, (bagnio del innocente) bath for the innocent...
a knocking shop that foiled the linen and gave shiners to young girls,
no one cared
in this disorderly place, where the stew was watered down with whiskey float
Then came the raid that brought everything to a halt,
in a gestalt moment she found freedom, perhaps her prayers were answered?
Down to the river she went for a bath and a rest,
it was then that she remembered her first time, it was incest *
The wild caged bird had no other place to hide but in this fortress
she slept for days on the grass beside a great big boulder, ,
all the wild animals in the forest thought she was a Princess.
They let her sleep, and fed her pine nuts from the trees. Until this day,
Gianna never mentioned the brothel to anyone, no even herself.
Feb. 20, 2021
Hungrier than a wolf pack hunkering down the hill
A lpha teen male footballers share microwaving kill
Meat tonight they smell and enough to go around
Burgers make them happy and they munch with humming sounds
Under meat they peek to see if pickles thrill the palate
Grudgingly they toss the greens that try to pose as salad
Eating is a joy-- onion ketchup mustard gourmet mess
Running down their faces is a combination guess.
Looking out my window this 38 degree morning
I saw that:
The bushes are weighted down
with the moisture;
the droplets on the verge of
morphing into ice;
hunkering against the cold.
The weeds are dead and stiff
with the end of a dry season;
now wet, turned into intensely
deep shades of brown
and ochre.
The tall un-mown grasses
are matted down
by leaves fallen at season's end,
gathering the moisture,
ready to rest from summer's toil
in a quiet and peaceful
dormancy.
Looking out my window this 38 degree morning
I saw that:
The bushes are weighted down
with the moisture;
the droplets on the verge of
morphing into ice;
hunkering against the cold.
The weeds are dead and stiff
with the end of a dry season;
now wet, turned into intensely
deep shades of brown
and ochre.
The tall un-mown grasses
are matted down
by fallen leaves,
saddened by season's end
and wet with shiny tears.
The snowbird trees are putting on their colorful autumn coats
Preparing to follow the sun southward
The provincial evergreens are hunkering down for winter
All are well groomed in this spiritual oasis
A gently convex (concave if you are a koi) wooden bridge crosses a pond
The bridge is framed by the textures of nature
I leave my point of view
And walk onto it
Looking down I see koi lounging and strolling
Or perhaps they are wavy reflections of the koi-colored leaves above
I hear the murmurs of respectful visitors to this cathedral of nature
Reflecting their souls
Looking back to where I was standing is not inspiring
Murky
Colorless
Rigid
Perpendicular
Utilitarian
Nature pounded into efficient shapes
Soulless
My office
In which is hanging a window onto my deepest and highest thoughts
A large photograph of an autumn scene in a Japanese Garden
the horse hunkering
rain drenched muddy
up on the hill ears down.
Theme: HORSE
Bob Renard
Constance’s Contest entitled:
Horses or Snowflakes or Horses and Snowflakes Poetry Contest
Hibernation is the name of the game
As we hunker down today from the rain
200 mph winds were sustained
In that Mexican hurricane
Best let it blow over as to a lamp post we're chained
© Jack Ellison 2015
Can You Please Wait A Second...?
In steed of ye
mounting your stock
key high horse,
perhaps named Rock
Key, and head off...lock
stock and barrel,
who knows where,
now lemme seat chew wait
ma self, and quickly knock
out quick mention about
hour (meaning everybody
within the wide world),
and their webbed
warp and woof weave
courtesy of Father Time
analogously to a jock
key hunkering down
aiming tubby first
crossing finish line
at races, afterwards celebrate
with social feted outing, while
scheduling proctologist appointment,
et cetera, sans squeezing
late radio talk ad hoc
meeting, an
extemporaneous yet timely
lesson indirectly related
to bird dogging, i.e. migrating
fast as Glock
pistol can shoot, essentially
sound (garden) resembling
joyus honking flock
of seagulls heading
Southside Johnny
and Asbury Jukes,
and on Tortoise -
to sea dock
side of the moon
Pink Floyd attired as Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle,
whose schedule Nsync
with YES men hosting
showtime merely minutes away...
remember ring that char existence
enslaved to thee a bomb
been nibble atomic clock,
which device uses an electron
transition frequency went
sallying forth in
the microwave tent,
experiencing optical radiation pent
up ether, or ultra
violet region meant
for electromagnetic fervent
active spectrum, or Palestra event
of atoms comprising
Adam and the Ants
(as well all other matter)
linkedin to frequency standard for
timekeeping Strunk and White
element of style.
Forgives Florida
Not so much The Bahamas
Stay safe everyone
Keep hunkering down
This monstrosity shall pass
God be with you all!
Date written: 09/01/2019
In the eyes of a cougar
she purrs like an old kitten
plays with young ones mittens
is of a bigger scale of a cat
loves the bone of young fat
her movements stealth
has good range of health
eyes a moving
for any oaks a grooving
she follows the trail
to a sweet colt's tail
hunkering down
without any sound
the scent rises to thirst
her insides near burst
she speeds on
before it's gone
the call of the wild
isn't so mild
she plays with her prey
hearing him neigh
that's a good sound
being unwound
to the highest pitch
filling her niche
the colt is small but big
she braces a swig
her eyes a water
at her new found trotter
echo's the cougar's fight
at the young'ins sight
back to her cave
for more rave
connie pachecho
1/30/17
No sooner than we set foot within said domicile
attestation to so called gentleman’s’ agreement with guile
initially infrequently, but incessantly as time elapsed Isle
never forget (nor will spouse forgive) with rancor and rile
ceaselessly besieging, bruiting bare-knuckle skirmishes
for us to remove ourselves and personal belonging with vile
lent vitriolic wrath from the day we decamped
within hoity -toity Mainline –
our matted unwelcome would endure for quite a white.
* I * S * I * N * G
With hindsight and accumulative less cloudy fifty shades of gray,
an irrevocable clear er voyance viz summoning forth would lay
an irreconcilable rift (rivaling the Mariana), and constant nay
saying presaged an emotional price to pay
whereat we deterred sale of vintage crystal balls – our stay
purported prevented sale of precious heirlooms – oye vay
in tandem to estate sale divvied up, cuz we whar in the way.
* I * S * I * N * G
Analogous to Little Red Riding Hood, we could not see
blitzkrieg, cannonading, incessant strafe carpet bombing re:
bloody onslaught from the generation of elder vipers que
endured feeling trapped by memorabilia meant nothing to me
* I * S * I * N * G
Warfare found us hunkering down within said tract housing unit,
a fusillade fired off re: porting volleys of character assassination
bombarded this unfortunate civilian clearly implicated to whit
for being a non jewish schlemiel inducing endless economic
denigrating calumniations – fulminating against this “twit”
we decried wicked, vicious, unwarranted abuse would not quit
with no defense against slings and arrows, a plague round
of ceaseless, ferocious, and insidious pilloried that pit
pendulous injustices for each of our **** (emphatic branding
per diem me own scrawny gluteus maximus to git
the hell out – eventually hiring a lawyer with eviction edict!
There were many ingenious things that helped win World War Two.
Jeeps, Higgins Boats and Victory Ships just to name a few.
Other things were vital such as radar, C-rations and wrenches,
But the ungainly steel helmet won favor with guys in the trenches!
Though the soldier always tried his best to look meticulous,
That "pot" atop his head did make him look somewhat ridiculous!
Designed to protect the head as directed by Army ukases,
The enterprising American soldier found for it many other uses!
It was used as a portable sink in which to wash and shave,
And it came in handy as a bathtub for the occasional lave.
It made a great laundry tub for the scrubbing of his drawers.
(Heretofore, Mom took care of such mundane domestic chores!)
Hunkering in his foxhole to evade the dreaded Grim Reaper,
It became a useful shovel as he strove to dig a little deeper!
On numerous occasions in it he was served his meager chow.
It was used as a milk pail for milking an obliging cow!
To rest his weary bones the helmet became a comfortable seat.
For all-around utility this handy-dandy gadget couldn't be beat!
Oh! And by the way it saved innumerable lives along the way,
Since its sole intended purpose was to keep shot and shell at bay!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Ready or not here he comes
Best you batten down the hatches
Unless you were one of the smart ones to run
Like a Coon Hound in July chasing rabbits
Alright, alright, alright
As you turn and face the wind
Open the door to a Category 4
And let Matthew come screaming in
Oh me, oh my, oh my, oh me
Is that Grandma in the yard below
Hanging tight with all her might to the clothes line
With her cat Skeeters in tow
This is getting rather exciting
As I see trees by the dozen crack in half
With my Boy scout skills I might need to later build
A sturdy family size raft
But for now we'll all hunker down
Try and stay away from the windows
And all the flying debris that I decided to leave
In the yard scattered between plastic Flamingos
I'm here wondering at this moment
Which of the two could be worse
Being blown away by a hurricane
Or eaten by a gator face first
Still you've got to love Florida
With 20 foot waves crashing to shore
As I step outside to grab that branch floating by
I think I need to start whittling some oars
I live in Jacksonville Florida and thought some humor would be nice before my power goes out and I crawl off into a corner to whimper...
Autumn Begins
I stand on my porch
eyes raised into a pallid sky
like Greer Garson on the Cliffs of Dover
watching her lover's Spitfire cross the channel.
Geese gather in the bay.
Daily practice formations vee over
my cottage which is even now
hunkering down into the forest.
It pulls in its garden skirts in one last show
of bravado with golden asters and tattered
baby's breath lace kicking high. Wood is piled
on the porch to feed my parlor stove when
white is the colourless of the day. My geese
bugle and triumph in a crackle of song, " come with us,
come with us woman of the north, Join our soaring
into the warmth of another land."