Best Jar Poems
Standing on tippy toes
Top shelf
Reaching
Stretching
Finger tips edging the jar forward
Imagining the taste of chocolate chips on my tongue
Yumm mom's chewy delicious wait till Saturday cookies
Thankful I have grown that extra inch
Thinking she'll never suspect me
The jar
Tips
Topples
Tumbles
Turns
Travels over my head
Lands on the floor
Just as Snoopy comes running through the door
Eating all the cookies except for four
Looks up with his doggy grin
Like he wants some more
I reach down and grab the jar
Surprised that it didn't break
Reaching inside was my second mistake
Mom comes in and says "For goodness sake!
I'm so scared I start to shake.
"Ricky get over here right now"
I drop the jar, she watches it break
Running I try to get away
Up the stairs
Under the bed
If she catches me I'll be dead
At least that's what she said
She lifts the bed skirt
There I am
With my happy face T-shirt
Just within her reach
She grabs me
Pulls me out
Laughs
Gives me a hug
"Don't worry it's OK
I'll make more
Later today."
For John Lawless's Just within reach contest.
Written April 15, 2015
I learned a lot from Grandma
She helped me become a man
When I thought I just couldn't make it
She always told me I can
She taught me all of life's lessons
While sitting at her breakfast nook
Some homemade cookies and a glass of milk
Was usually all it took
She told me all about Heaven
And the price we'd pay for sin
She always started her lessons with
"Let me see now, where do I begin?"
I really miss her cookies
And the stories she used to tell
She knew how to get my attention
I just couldn't resist that smell
Whenever I messed up really bad
And thought I'd gone too far
She'd just pour me another glass of milk
And reach for that cookie jar
My grandma's passed away now
But that cookie jar is on my shelf
And whenever I start to miss her
I just smile and help myself
Does the one who loves you know who you are?
She needs a real man not just a facade.
Don't keep your heart locked away in a jar.
Not being open she'll think you're a fraud.
She longs to share every part of herself.
She needs a real man not just a facade.
Your heart is out of reach on that old shelf.
Where she can see it but it's out of reach.
She longs to share every part of herself.
But you hold onto her just like a leach.
In the glass jar it looks so very clear.
Where she can see it but it's out of reach.
If you open it what is there to fear?
Are there dark spots you don't want her to see?
In the glass jar it looks so very clear.
Is it that you're afraid that she will flee?
Why won't you reveal every part of you?
Are there dark spots you don't want her to see?
There are some good men, be one of the few.
It's time to reveal every part of you.
Help the one who loves you, know who you are.
Don't keep your heart locked away in a jar.
Modified Terzanelle
You
mirror
my pain in
deep lines of dark
thunder within a jar of hurricanes
mocking the sorrow I sing in silence
watching sadness
vaporise
as I
grieve
and
quiver
to the tunes
of piercing walls
where shadows of regret dance to the moon
Wandering the virtual
green fields of home,
I open the farmyard gate
fall into a haze of retrospect.
I see a “LMS Black Five” Locomotive
bellowing upon a utilized line,
ghostly sparks tantalizing
the embankment.
Below a paddock ploughed,
sown with scattered seed
to germinate this memory
of that time past.
I stroll the hoary lane
beneath a pale cold eve,
discover soft mist stirring
upon the low moor, in warps
of time, giving in to modernization.
Mile high bracken upon the Beacon
under a clementine moonlight,
in shadows drifting to and fro
like the tide upon the silken sea.
At the old cottage
in Sugar Hill,
I see a cut glass vase, sitting supreme
upon the polished surface
with rose, carnation and dahlias,
near by a collection of love
in all those wonderful bluebells
from Nesfield.
“In the old Jam Jar”
Entered 2022 Poetry Marathon mile 14 contest
Sponsor Mark Toney
13/9/2022
Hey Mister Tom Cunningham,
You are definitely the man,
Your poetic talents reaching far,
Your taste buds tantalized by a
Marmite jar!
I shall not fear of parching for your drop or two is enough
Even a tear would quench more than my lip, my soul
Cry me thrice, laugh me once
Leap more, tiptoe less
Break this earthen vessel if you wish
Just don’t leave a love song behind
For it will just maim a hollow tune
Like a broken violin in incandescent moon
Or a lone shell perpetually humming
The melody of his unmet clam or hermit.
Lightning in a bottle
That is my little firefly
I gotcha right out of
The summer night sky
Gently captured now
In an old glass canning jar
You twinkle, twinkle, twinkle
Just like a little star
Riled up and startled
With a tap... tap... tap
Awaken and glow again
No more time to nap
Lightning bug keep flashing
Yellow or neon green
Most fascinating thing
My eyes have ever seen
Keep dancing in circles
While I enjoy the show
Don't worry little firefly
... I will let you go
It's a starry night
and the moon is shining bright.
My heart is full of love,
glowing.
But you are so very far
and I'm kept here in this jar,
in a secret place,
not showing.
The sweet mystery of life,
surviving neglect and strife,
raises her head with courage,
waiting.
Won't you take that step for me
face to face and free?
Hold me in your arms,
smiling.
Break my glass jar!
Don't love me from afar.
Before it's too late,
touching.
By: Carole O'Terry Duet
Copyright: 2006
"All Rights Reserved"
i hear chirping beaks,
my love, as you deeply sleep
with your mouth ajar
butterflies in jar -
my abdomen aches with thoughts
of sudden silence
My mind is a fragile terrarium—
each breath fogs the pane with memory.
I watch myself moving inside,
an echo pacing the perimeter of pain.
Hyper-awareness hums like a live wire,
every sound—a warning, every shadow—a test.
Survival becomes the only rhythm I know,
the pulse of endurance mistaken for life.
Half alive, I measure the days by tremors,
trauma’s fingerprint pressed into thought.
They called it normal, this ache that never sleeps,
they called it growing, I call it ghosting.
My body remembers what my voice forgets,
the hypothalamus—its keeper of storms.
Neurons whisper in static and code,
translating terror into muscle, into bone.
I have stood behind this glass so long
that reflections have learned my name.
My smile, rehearsed for the living,
hides a tremble the mirror can’t unsee.
But I am tired of being the specimen,
the observer, the observed, the cage.
I want the window to open—not shatter,
to let air in without letting myself spill out.
Healing is rebellion against reflex,
choosing stillness when the body says run.
Choosing love when the mind recalls harm,
choosing now when memory insists on then.
I am learning to live behind this thick glass,
until the day I no longer need the barrier.
Until touch no longer threatens to burn,
and breath writes peace on the other mirrored side.
OH you marbles in a jar!
Teacher wants us to guess how many of you there are
I try to count the ones showing, but I lose track
This silly circular jar, has neither a front nor back
The child with the closest guess, will undoubtedly score
The dangling allure of candy galore
After several examinations of size, girth, and magnitude
I devised a plan, I had to act rude!
I looked at the clock, five minutes left in class
It was time to act, I had to act fast
I jumped on my desk, pooting with my arm pit
Not stopping a bit, when the teacher asked quit
It worked! I won! A detention date!
Alone with a certain marble jar, was my fate
Ten minutes into detention
The teacher stood up, and said I’ll be back in five
Then up from my chair, I came alive
My tipped towed creep walk, had to look funny
But my marble guesstimate had to be on the money
The teacher walked back into the room
And set a manila folder down
I was safe, number known, fake snoring, seat bound
Detention had just started
I was shocked when she said I could go
But I was gone
Quicker than an arrow released from a bow!
After tossing and turning all night with no rest
I walked in the next morning, and turned in my guess
It seemed to me, to be, the longest day of the year
But it came
When the teacher announcing the winner
Announced my name
Clenching my fists
I shook them to the left And right of my head
Laughing to myself
“ I can’t believe it”, I said
As she walked to her Closet to award my Amazing feat
I noticed the manila folder On her desk
Had my out-poking
Allergy sheet
Highlighted Was the word NUTS…
How could this be
A years supply of Goobers
Was awarded to me!
_________________________________________________
Moral of the story is... don't cheat! You are never as sly as you think you are.
This gift of love I gave my friend,
A jar with messages to send.
Adorned with ribbon curls and lace,
To put a smile upon her face.
I know she'll keep it to the end
I thought out just what I should say,
That she could read to make her day.
On folded papers laid inside
This gift of love.
Wrote down things like "you're so funny"
"With you here each day is sunny"
"You're kind and wise,so very smart".
Know that this gift comes from the heart,
Something you can't buy with money
This gift of love.
for contest"Gifts Given,Gifts Received"
sponsored by Cyndi MacMillan
You're the jam in my jar
And you fill my sugar bowl
Candy kisses from afar
And the sweetness in your soul
You're the apple in my pie
You're the pecan in my tart
You’re the sparkle in my eye
And the pounding in my heart
Oh, you make my day complete
For your loving I would die
You're the one makes me sweet
All the others made me cry
You're my world, have you heard
One and only cherry blossom
Like the sky is to a bird
And the night time to a possum
You're the angel in my morning
Spreads her wings to start my day
You're the devil in my dream
Helps me pass the night away
You're the aim of my adore
You're the eye of my amaze
Couldn't love you anymore
You're the fancy of my craze
You're the one for my affection
You're the picture of perfection
Hand in hand, we'll hit the road
Don't much matter what direction
There'll be so much to explore
And together we'll go far
Gotta get me to your door
And my jam into your jar
Hand In The Cookie Jar
The word is out, the waiting suspense is over...
Over here in this small young democratic country...
For quite some time, in this Bolehland of endless possibilities...
There has been fascinating accounts of financial irregularities...
Every man in the street, he knows for a fact...
When one is a public official for the government...
One needs to uphold the integrity of being in public service...
In your personal bank accounts, no mysterious monetary incentives...
The highest ranking public official in Bolehland...
Religiously taking the holy ground, playing verbal footsies all round....
Pleading innocence and ignorance, with suspicious money in his bank accounts...
As one nation, all the more bemused as implausible explanations spew forth...
Now the word is out, despite painstaking months of evidence gathering...
A Voluminous report of convulated money trails and entangled cash flows...
A single all important pawn has said, Insufficent Evidence, No further action.....
A shocking proclamation of his master's innocence, despite the public opinion..
Whither goes Malaysia, now that a perceived wrong is verbally white washed...
When a grievious misdeed, is now merely a twisted piece of re engineered logic....
Spin masters, blinded aides and mercenary political stooges...
As one they cried in unison, It is not what it seems, the boss is clean...
While the man in the street, he shakes his head and mutters incredulously...
The many twists and turns, of mysterious donors and a deceased king...
How is it things in this Bolehland have come this far...
Was it not a simple case of being caught with a hand in the cookie jar?
https://sg.news.yahoo.com/twists-turns-najib-rm2-6-230008097.html?nhp=1