Best Inexpensive Poems
Tapestry of Life
In the still graveyard overlooking San Francisco Bay.
Her husband's young body doth rot and in profound
silence lay.
Overlooking that city, where he married his young wife.
Who now recalls the beauty of his all too short, vibrant life.
The many walks on those heavenly hills, the poetry they read.
The coffee shops of North Beach, alas, their aromatic memories
So dreamy in her bowed, widowed head.
She stills dons her inexpensive, gold wedding ring to this very
minute.
And when she touches it, all the magical love they shared~
still sings in it!
December 28, 2019
She sits on the porch in a cool desert night
A bobcat stalks prey in the day's fading light
The moon looks like a big orange in the blue
Evoking old memories she thought she outgrew
Memories of nights of moutons and mums
High stepping half-times and booming bass drums
And homecoming dances that ended too soon
Under West Texas stars and a big bobcat moon
He sits on the beach in an evening gulf breeze
An autumn vacation in the Florida keys
The moon looks like a big orange in the blue
And brings to his mind an old memory anew
The reunion that gathered together that year
Old friends and acquaintances scattered and near
To tell stories of glories till late afternoon
And share in the evening the big bobcat moon
We sit by the lakeside past sunset one time
The end of another communion sublime
The moon looks like a big orange in the blue
And summons a vision of friends we once knew
She flies round the barrel with her long ponytail
He yells and rings joy on the victory bell
We loved them and all those who left us too soon
We'll remember them well with the big bobcat moon
©January 10, 2013
For my high school reunion group. The bobcat is our school mascot.
In Texas, girls often dressed up for the homecoming game and were given a chrysanthemum (mum) corsage by their date. In the late fifties an inexpensive "fur" coat made from straightened and dyed sheepskin called a "mouton" was often worn by girls wanting to look elegant.
I can do this, I can do that
I can do anything, splicketty-splat.
I'm quite the expert, and certainly quick
Excellent service here, licketty-click.
Your toaster won't roast'er?
Your car needs repair?
I'll fix your teepee,
your sofa and chair
I'll cure your doggy
of fleas, lice, and pox
I'll wash your diapers,
your windows, your socks.
I'm inexpensive, and fast as a wink
Available any time, blinkity-blink.
Deffy Daffinitions (Monoku series)
inflation: the thing that makes balloons bigger and candy bars smaller
irony: when obnoxious online bullies post "your a idiot"
jury: twelve people chosen to decide which side has the best lawyer
shin: an inexpensive device for finding furniture in the dark
pediatrics: comforting the parents till nature cures the illness
golfing: getting sunburnt and bored while failing your task at great expense
vitamin: what you are supposed to do when neighbors ring your doorbell
#3 attributable to Robert Frost, all others found online and converted to monoku form by yours truly.
A special Christmas is sublime
Transcendent in many ways
Like simplicity at teatime
Hiding uncomplicated gifts from gaze
Singing jubilant carols of praise
Christmas tree hunting upon the land
Searching every hill and vale
Finding one suitable, but not grand
As long as we overlook one detail
Like the aroma, please don't inhale
Our money sparse, but love in good measure
Homemade cocoa, buttered popcorn
A Christmas movie, an inexpensive pleasure
Slowly strange traditions born
Memories of special Christmases adorn
I used rhymezone.com to check the rhymes
The Quintain (English) has no set meter or syllables
Written: December 17, 2022
Contest: A Christmas Special
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Once we found a tree that looked really nice, but we put it in the stand that night and was going to decorate the next morning. During the night an odor started to permeate the whole house. An animal had been using the tree to mark his or her territory. The tree had to go. LOL..
Oh, hear the rattle of the rolling train;
yhe clap…clap…clacking rhythm,
beating like a conga drum;
every trip it sings along,
with the tracks repeating song;
such simple, inexpensive music.
Listen to that music,
of the heart-beat, of the train.
Sing along, with its melodious song.
Come, join in the rhythm;
don’t you love, to sing along;
with the clack..clack…chugging, of that rolling drum.
Run and grab your bongo drums;
we’ll play a little music.
A grand neighborhood, sing-along,
to the rhythm of the train.
Oh, what a wondrous rhythm,
is the old, Iron Horse’s song.
In the heart’s, always a song;
the body’s beating drum.
It keeps on pounding out its rhythm;
the heart beats of its Chrystal music;
beats with tempo of the train’
just clap…clap…clacking, on along.
All the people sing along,
with the old Iron Horse’s thrilling songs.
If with instruments, you’re untrained;
perhaps you do not own a drum.
Still, you can join the music;
just clap your hands in rhythm.
Revel in that rhythm,
sing and play along.
Just be part of the music
and belt out your own song,
to your own heart’s rhythm
and that musical old train.
Lighten up that rhythm and revel in the music.
Have a glorious, sing-along, to the many beating drums.
There’s nothing quite as joyous, as the songs sung with the trains.
9-9-19
Your Choice Max 333 Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Some of the neighbors
Complain about the house across from me
It stands apart
From the neat lawns
Wide driveways
And picket fences.
Some say
The people who live there
Inherited the house from their parents
Years and years ago
When the area was marshland
And it was common to see
Hunters and fishermen.
A winding street
Wide enough for two cars to pass
Serves as a boundary between us.
The house once had a broken window
A gaping hole
That gave the house a reckless character
Like the missing front tooth
Of a mischievous young boy
Now it’s been covered by wood
Nearby, inexpensive white plastic chairs
Thin, stained and unused
Line the side of their house
Inviting phantom guests
To sit down.
In the upstairs bedroom
A curtain drawn as blinds hangs
Brightly colored
Defiant in the face of poverty
Inside a girl hides a diary from her parents
And dreams of the day when she is grown up
Young lovers kiss in the darkness
A hungry baby’s whimper is heard in the night
A radio
Left out on the front stoop
Plays a familiar song
To an empty street.
The people living in that house
Are proud
Keeping what they have
Admiring their courage
I ask myself
Who am I to complain?
Bleak heavens overbear this roiling ship
As on a rail, does know its destiny
Quick as truth let loose from cast-off lover’s lips
Parts great tidal mounds and speeds her way
I recollect my precious little child
Abandoned now to its maternal care
How I will miss her innocent sweet smile
And send my wishes to her on the air.
Four black horses straineth hard in April’s mud
Their polished carriage wheels are firmly trapped.
In Waterloo’s cold soil still rust with blood
war souvenir’s, a cap, an inexpensive map,
A sword plucked from a Nero’s grasping hand.
Sent home, with mock disdain, to England's
shores, that feed me now with news as mother’s
milk poisoned by myself in accident.
We sat down at the kitchen table
Under an overhead light
And talked about my mother
My wife understood
I was the oldest, she said
Don’t wait for the others.
So I took care of mother
Paid the bills
Spoke to the landlord
Went food shopping
And did what needed to be done.
On a cold winter day
Mother was hospitalized
For the third time
I waited in the hall
Facing two red leatherette lounge chairs
The kind that are
Inexpensive and easy to clean
Vending machine just a few steps away
All designed to make someone
Feel comfortable.
Startled, I turned
T o see a nurse
Coming from nowhere
Her face a masquerade
As if she wanted to stop
And tell me something
But couldn’t
When she walked past me
I listened to her padded footsteps
As she disappeared
Down another beige corridor.
Absent mindedly
I returned to random thoughts
Odds and ends of an old woman’s life
When a heart aches
And memory fails
All is that left
Are promises
And words
Dangling somewhere
“Call us if you ever need anything.”
No one visited
Not the nieces
Not the nephews
She sent Christmas cards to
Stuffed with cash
Written in an old style of writing
Some misspellings
But always signed
“Love Grandma.”
Eager to show their concern
They call me now
And ask how she’s doing
I cradle the phone on my shoulder
And listen to their words
With a blank stare.
Mother has taken a turn for the worse
Cancer has spread
There is pain
But the medication masks it
And she sleeps most of the day
Seemingly in peace.
Occasionally she calls me
By someone’s else name
She’s forgotten a lot of things
After considering
What she’s been through
Perhaps it’s better this way.
Alone
I watch
The house across from me
The people who live there
Keep to themselves
A shallow creek
No wider than a man’s gait
Water no deeper than two feet
Runs as a boundary between us.
The house once had a broken window
A gaping hole
That gave the house a reckless character
Like the missing front tooth
Of a mischievous young boy
Now it’s been covered by wood
Nearby, inexpensive white plastic chairs
Thin, stained and unused
Line the side of their house
Inviting phantom guests
To sit down.
In the upstairs bedroom
A curtain drawn as blinds hangs
Brightly colored
Defiant in the face of poverty
Inside a girl hides a diary from her parents
And dreams of the day when she is grown up
Young lovers kiss in the darkness
A hungry baby’s whimper is heard in the night
A radio
Left out on the front stoop
Plays a familiar song
To an empty street.
The people living next to me
Are proud
Keeping what they have
Admiring their courage
I ask myself
Who am I to complain?
The Barefoot Days of Summer
By Elton Camp
When I was a child in rural Alabama during the 1940s, going barefoot during the summer months was still a general practice, especially for boys. It was feasible because few roads were paved and sidewalks in the country were virtually nonexistent. The sun on hard, dark surfaces created burn hazards that prevented city kids from going without shoes outside the confines of their own yards.
My father’s childhood had been spent in the more distant rural areas of Marshall County. He and his siblings went shoeless partly by choice and partly because it was the inexpensive thing to do. Shoes for their large family would represent a significant cost. Memory being the fickle thing that it is, he looked back on “going barefoot” as a privilege and source of delight. It was a childhood rite that he wanted me to enjoy.
“You can start going barefoot now,” he announced in June of each year. His tone showed that he considered he was doing something wonderful for me, so I didn’t want to disappoint him by revealing my true feelings. Going shoeless hurts—a lot. Sharp rocks and stubs of plants seemed to be everywhere. After about a month, the soles thicken enough that walking becomes less painful, but it’s mainly a matter of degree. Without a doubt, the sandy, grass-free yards of his youth contained fewer perils.
In the forties, our yard had what passed for grass, but it actually was a mixture of grass, clover, and general weeds. When the clover bloomed, it created a hazard that no amount of tough skin could prevent—bee stings. The pain was intense and lasted a couple of days. The only treatment my parents knew was to moisten the head of a kitchen match to make a paste to apply to the sting. Despite their assurance that the folk treatment would help, I felt no better beyond the fact that something was being done. In later years, I took a perverse comfort when I learned that the sting tears out the internal organs of the bee so that it dies shortly. The mere fact that I was crushing the insect with my foot gave it no right to retaliate.
Apart from the beach, I haven’t seen a barefoot child over a year old in a long time. Viewpoints and circumstances change and that childhood ritual has vanished. Good riddance to it.
Come and buy
Fruits and vegetables from own garden
Best quality and most inexpensive items
Apples, Oranges, Bananas, Onions, Carrots and Potatos
Purchasers of my goods, I will give you some Plums for free
Come and buy from me
I have all the herbs you can imagine
Anise, Basil, Tarragon, Thyme, Coriander, Oregano,
Parsley, Rosemary, Cinnamon and Saffron
Fell how good it smells .......
If you wish, you may well get a taste
Come and buy
Here is the "real" goods for a cheap price
Adidas, Diesel, Bjorn Borg, Lacoste, Nike,
Jack & Jones, Gabba and Hugo Boss
Yes, the "real" goods and top quality
Try one as well, I will find a perfect fit for you
Come and buy from me
You need to buy one for your loved one
"Real gold and precious beautiful stones"
Beautiful work and see who it shines in the sun light
If you buy one you get the second for half price
Cheap, cheap .... What would you pay?
Give me a price you will pay...
So we`ll probably agree
Come and buy...... Cheap, cheap....
Turkey 04.04.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
I'm crazy about living.I'm crazy about love.
I'm crazy about giving.I'm giving what I've got.
What I've got's a little money, and a inexpensive car.
What I've got's a little girl I know..
Who knows how to play guitar.
I'm crazy about living.I'm crazy about love.
I'm crazy about giving.I'm giving what I've got..
And if you give it back to me..
I will give it back to you..
'Cause what I've got's a little money, and a inexpensive car.
What I've got's a little girl I know.
Who knows how to play guitar..
I'm crazy about living.I'm crazy about love.
I'm crazy about giving.I'm giving what I've got.
I'm giving what I've got....
Crazy Song-Lyrics By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1984,2015..ALL rights reserved.
Halloween was coming and the angels thought they'd have some fun,
Since they sometimes thought of dressing up before the Holy One.
They all got together and decided to do just that,
Dress up in devilish costumes...Surprise the Lord like some earthly college frat.
Each one was to make his costume from the ethereal
A very inexpensive and unusual type of material.
Then, when the Lord was looking down at earth
Don the costumes for some Heavenly mirth.
It'll be a costume party for us here in our Heavenly abode
Different from always wearing these white sophisticated robes.
We'll have a good laugh and God will understand
We're just having a laugh here in His Heavenly plan.
The moment came, all the costumes had been made
And when the Lord looked up, Heaven was a different shade.
"Something is amiss, here." , He said in the shades of that red hue
Perhaps I'll bring Satan here, to find out if this is something new.
It would be difficult to invite that guest into heaven you see
As he had been banished for all the eons of centuries.
But nothing is impossible for the Lord for He can do any feat
And just when he was to summon Satan, the Angels all shouted
"Trick or Treat"!
Mother’s Day is coming and I should be happy about it, you know.
But instead of eating in… It’s eating out that we must joyfully go.
But remember, I have teenagers, Trolls, Dragon, and Hubby, too.
They’re doing me a kindness… It’s something I’ll remember… true.
This year, I mentioned McDonalds’ for it’s a rather inexpensive place.
Last year it was Bob Evans, but it became too expensive for my taste.
You see, they don’t know money, but are sooo loving, yes, that’s true.
Still, they eat more than they can collect, so I must pay, what’s due.
Now, you see my dilemma… Oh what, oh what, am I supposed to do?
So yes, I just smile, a loving smile, for their thoughtfulness, so what’s new?
Then I sneak off the bathroom, and pay the check sneakily on the way back.
Then tell them to pay their money, place the money on the table in a stack.
It makes a decent tip, stacks of change and from my Hubby some dollar bills.
But my credit card gets loaded, and of course, I do, myself, pay that bill.
So I hope you need some yard mowing, I’m retired, you know, of course.
I’ll do a good job, it’s how I pay that bill, and that’s the blooming source.
My bones are getting creaky, what is there to say, they love me, in their way.
And I love them sooo… so when mowing, do you give any tips, by the way?
Father’s Day is coming; so I must be off, sitting here, won’t pay the bills.
Teaching love, is easier than finance, but in time they’ll also learn that skill.
Happy Mother’s and Father’s Day to each and every one, under the sun.
Enjoy them while you have them, they’re precious, each and every one.