Best Munches Poems
Oh baby!
Everyone speaks of a mother's prenatal travails
that make you a part of this earth's tales.
But,
No one talks about what hassle you undergo
In your 9-month-long journey when you're all solo.
I understand what you are going through inside your mom, my lollipop.
I can make out if you're tired or doing a hip-hop.
I know that there's darkness around you
I know that you're floating in a limited space
I know that you're all alone in a strange place
I know that you're listening but cannot respond
You reach your mom's womb without an escort
You feed yourself, you water yourself, you sleep by yourself
You turn yourself away from frightening impulses.
You guide yourself to your position of comfort
You suffer heat when your mom munches on spicy grills
You choke for oxygen if your mom neglects fluids.
You shiver in fear when thunder-like noises bang your mom's ears
You cry in silence and your mom never knows that.
While your mom gets help to attune to her changing body,
You grow by yourself learning to adjust and adapt.
While a bunch of people help your mom in delivering you out,
you unravel your own ways to emerge out of life's narrow channel.
What an enchanting little learner you are!
What a great selfstanding human you are!
You stand as a lone warrior for nine months
And deserve huge respect and applause
I, your mother, promise to tap into your implicit language
Above all, I salute you for your unwavering courage.
Categories:
munches, child, courage, inspiration, mother,
Form:
Rhyme
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
I'm in awe of such natural beauty, her wings resemble church stained glass
I've been captivated by the butterflies lifecycle ever since I was a lass
An egg hatches into a wriggly caterpillar, which munches foliage but that's fine
it transforms into a chrysalis, emerging as a butterfly in the sky and looks divine!
Categories:
munches, butterfly, nature,
Form:
Couplet
Koala’s not a teddy bear,
Although he looks the part …
He munches eucalyptus leaves,
And captivates our hearts.
Categories:
munches, animals, children, funny
Form:
Epigram
In my house there is a monster,
Who’s growing every day,
He’s usually quite happy,
In his own reptilian way.
He often watches TV,
He doesn’t care which side,
He really looks quite funny
When his mouth is open wide.
It cools him off when he is hot
He does it all the time,
Locusts are his favourite treat,
He eats them up just fine,
He munches and he crunches them,
It‘s quite a sight to watch,
But even more fascinating
Is when he makes a catch.
He might be multi-coloured,
With prickles on his tough skin,
His spiky beard can blacken,
And he makes a right old din,
I love my friendly monster,
Not everyone can say,
They have their very own dragon
To play with every day.
Categories:
munches, animal, kid, pets,
Form:
Sonnet
Koala the Australian version of. “The Thinker”, sits high.
Ponders the spicy tang of his next meal then, he’ll sleep for hours.
People gawk at him, as he munches eucalyptus.
Categories:
munches, animal, nature, poems, poetry,
Form:
Sijo
My bunny rabbit is so bold,
always wanting out.
From the hutch I keep it in,
since it got so stout.
Sits there wriggling it's fluffy ears,
and the tip of its pinky nose.
He's such a rolly polly guy,
and knows it I suppose.
Just like me he can't resist
temptation in his way.
Munches through four carrots,
then lays down in the hay.
I'm tempted now to let him out,
just to watch him play.
Brush his long shaggy hair.
But then I know he'll stay.
Because I can't resist him,
and the joy he brings to me.
All evening now we'll cuddle up,
on the sofa and watch T.V.
Categories:
munches, animal, fun, pets,
Form:
Rhyme
Villanelle : Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
Knows not Yang in Yin’s tai chi arms gets kicked out of bed
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
The Good by nature will not stir to quell the scheming Devil
Post-coitus female praying mantis munches the male’s head
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
If you do nothing at all everything will turn to rot or swill
The sink will reek with stink and leeching bed-bugs are bred
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
Then even the police and security forces will outright kill
Seize by force the rightful hard-earned virtue of the Good
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
The relativity principle wants that both abide in goodwill
Be that so who lets the Evil get the upper-hand and go ahead
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
Hound rape denounce torture deprive confound steal kill
All thoughtless actions which in the heartless are self-bred
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
munches, change, conflict, world,
Form:
Villanelle
The Prize
The bobber floats, but when it dips, my heart skips for hooked lips. The line tightens, the tug is strong, I reel in. The fight is on. It's a tug of war, an uncooperative catch, an unoiled hinge you sometimes won't budge. I grab my net and it's like you know. Deeper you go, but I won't lose you. Slow and steady, I wear you out. You break through the water's surface like a newborn from the womb. You are born again, gasping for familiarity. My thumb in your mouth I snap a photo! Shiny scales, and stiff fins, your ancient beauty is mesmerizing. I'm hypnotized, caught in the moment, trapped by present time. No future. No past. No watches, clocks, or calendars. Just me and you. My prize. Then I realize.
I thought it was the fish, but it's merely a wish, to be connected. A primal need for Mother Nature to wrap me in her earthy foliage and soothe my urban lungs with her fresh rural air. To hear an orchestra of crispy insects buzz and feathered friends chirp, the forest is a song that never stops playing. The reds, oranges, yellows, purples and greens. The wildflowers cover the ground like an old fashioned quilt. Their sweet smelling nectar teases the nostrils with odorous pleasure. A painter's pallet, a living canvas surrounds me. A Groundhog munches, a squirrel races up the tree, a woodpecker pecks. Was that a mink? An otter? I think so, as a deer stares at me from the distance. You could have called she appears to say. I smile. I know. I'm aware. To feel small is too feel tall. All questions can be answered in the woods. It's the journey, not the catch.
I release you. Back in the water you swim, and I exhale.
Categories:
munches, adventure, animal, fishing, imagery,
Form:
Prose Poetry
< amidst grass carpet he plays
long ears bushy tail white paws
nibbles bulbs munches away
poor little thing had some flaws
hides hair braided and despaired
didn't stop this little guy
thought to self this wasn't fair
bowed head and started to cry
nectar is what he had sought
on this hopeful days journey
not to be trapped or be caught
or carted off on gurney
Mister Nibbles came to play
In garden's bedding today
Categories:
munches, adventure, animals, childhood, education,
Form:
Sonnet
"The pen is mightier than the sword"
- In general, I guess that's true
But mine's a lazy blighter;
It treats sloth as a bloody virtue
It's not the liveliest of beasts
It's always at a halt
It likes staring at blank paper
As though that's the thing at fault
It lives a charmed sedentary life
Full speed is torpidly inert
It charges around at the pace of a slug
When flat out and alert
My pen possesses zero 'nift' -
I can't fault it for being too nifty
Its' sweet repose is a full-on doze
It thinks saving ink is thrifty
It's scintillatingly steady
So passively at peace
Unchanging in its' inactivity
Like a grazing wildebeest
So languid and so supine
As it munches on my thought
Remaining ever restful
Seeing hibernation as a sport
It's frustratingly calm and fixed
To the point of being plain dull
And that's when it's being lively
It's worse still, when in a lull
But now and then I drag it
Out of its' latent, dormant air
Force it to get some exercise
And treat my thoughts with care
Often it’s quite useless
It's rare for the spark to light -
But when thought and pen work as one
Well, that's the time I write
Categories:
munches, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
Leaning on the deluxe seat,
She munches banana chips.
Her handsome husband breathes near
And an air-cooler blows chill.
Yet, she looks back from the car.
The vehicles fly, scattering on road.
One bike chases so close,
As it tries to kiss the car.
His hand has locked her shoulder;
Often, they swing together in ditches.
Yet, she looks back from the car.
He made her shine in rare jewels.
The moments sway in chitchat.
Now, their car diverts
To some pleasure zenith.
Yet,it is unknown why she looks back.
FABIYAS M V
Categories:
munches, inspirational
Form:
Verse
The Big Ben chimes thrice
The chime letS go of its wings
and swallows a bee-sting--
it sprays its spine with spice.
The printer reboots in haste
The fruits play hide-and-seek
and collide with a geek--
it munches them into paste.
The vacuum sucks some mice
The cooker burns my vermilion
and stir fry a reptilian--
it leaves a slime not too nice.
The platform leaks bits of ice
The mattress sweeps and weeps
and sleeps on a floor too steep--
it engulfs it alive, sliced.
The keyboard taps this one dice
The toilet gurgles more bubbles
and the pain itself chuckles--
it flies me to the paradise.
The chess set gleams bice
The nylons claw like spiders
and squeeze me into drips of cider--
it splices my nerves, enticed.
The cupboard scatters with rice
The mittens hold your gem
and you roll the gritty hem--
it costs your skirt beyond price.
The window pane kisses a firefly
The lens and specs frown
and pout like a sad clown--
it seems hard to purify.
The curtains drown in cries
The hair clips bend their backs
and have their teeth crack--
it no longer denies your demise.
Categories:
munches, cry, death, nostalgia,
Form:
Meanwhile, Mrs. Pappadopoulos
has circled back and plops down
on Fred's front porch, all tuckered out
So Fred cheerfully pulls up a chair
and together they sit and stare
openly ogling, gawking, gaping
because, as everyone knows-
it's not considered staring
if you're in a group of more than one
Miss Luby doesn't care about this rule
as she is inside, and thus it doesn't apply
she perches in a strategically placed
armchair, cat on lap, and munches
popcorn like she is at a movie
relishing the mystery of new neighbors
as well as the passing parade
“Welcome to the neighborhood!”
old Mr. Nicholson says
sidling across the lawn
toward the unsuspecting couple
unlike the other neighbors
who manage to maintain some sense
of pretense, the incorrigibly nosy
Mr. Nicholson comes right out
and interrogates the new neighbors
asking all the terribly inappropriate questions
everyone wants to know
but would never dare to ask
And as the new neighbors
stammer and stutter
taken aback, bewildered, bumfuzzled
by this brazen barrage
of curious queries
little fish-eyes blink behind
the little round spectacles
on his curiously boyish face
matter-of-fact, he is
utterly unfazed and unaware
of the discomfort he is creating
eventually, quota filled
he hobbles home
to share the wealth
As night begins to fall
the new neighbors finally finish unloading
and head back toward the house
In a last ditch effort at a closer look
Jake, the middle-aged man from next door
brings over his heartfelt housewarming gift
rich display of bachelor hospitality-
half a lukewarm pizza
in a greasy box
and a liter of cola
Categories:
munches, community, humanity, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
TriSaratop eats and eats just can't stop
Munches on apples,grapes, corn flakes 'til pops
Can't catch a young male
They all just run_bale
For she is rotund and just falls ker-plop
trisaratop gone
three horns big pile of her bones..
spirit still earth roams
Sponsor:Destroyer~Poet
Contest..Dinosaur Quest
Categories:
munches, imagination,
Form:
Limerick
The mirror stands cracked,
Neglected at the corner,
The broken glass wearing a coat,
Of a fine film of dust.
She no longer dares…
To look, nor does she care.
Her face, heart shaped,
Her eyes, bright and brown
Her skin a light shade of chocolate,
Her hands gently as if afraid, run down her face,
As if in fear they will hurt her skin.
Her face is rough,
Like the plains in the barren quarry,
Gingerly she touches each part,
The tears fall no more,
It’s part of her this skin
That strives to bring her loads of pain.
She walks the streets head held high,
She no longer cowers,
She stands straight and tall
Her heart threatens to tremble
As her peers point and giggle,
She can hear their words,
Shooting daggers into her heart,
“Look at her, look at her skin! Can’t she do something,
Aaargh some people! I just lost my appetite nkt”
A sad smile curls her lips,
She no longer pouts,
She knows she has done her best
The medicines, the creams, the ointments
Washed with peroxide but no, no change
Her skin remains stubborn
So she munches on, smiling to herself
She had a choice to live happy or in misery
She choose to happiness even the way she is.
Categories:
munches, appreciation, beautiful, body, how
Form:
Free verse