Best Nebraska Poems
The Union Pacific steamer billowed clouds of smoke as down the rails it raced!
Young soldiers aboard the crowded train contemplated the dire fates they faced.
Melancholy thoughts of hearth and home this Christmas Day were hard to bear.
The mournful wail of the engine's whistle added to their loneliness and despair.
The troop train provided very little conveniences for the miserable men.
No showers, a potbellied stove for heat and a tasteless meal now and then.
Little sleep was had since there were no berths or fancy Pullman cars.
Even a nap in their seats was fitful due to the coaches rocking jars!
Ah, but there was good news ahead for these young men on the way to war!
The sergeant announced, "We're stoppin' at North Platte, Nebraska! Ain't very far!
The kind ladies of North Platte is waitin' to greet youse on this Christmas Day!
Now, watch yer language, comb yer hair and shine yer shoes wid'out delay!"
The ladies of North Platte met every train passing through since the war began!
From the bounty of their farms they provided food for each and every man!
Ladies from miles about brought fried chicken, candy, apple pies and cakes,
Even popcorn balls with addresses of girls wrapped therein, for heaven's sakes!
Each train stopped for twenty minutes or so to take on more water and coal,
But those precious moments lifted the morale of the men which was the ladies goal!
They met as many as thirty-two trains a day serving nearly six million guys!
Decades later those men, now old vets, recall North Platte with teary eyes!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
(Re tiny box-like homes lining the west side of
South Bundy Drive, north of Nebraska Street, in West LA)
The soiled feeling comes not
From the indignant paradise
Scurrying past their frontal lobes
It arrived in silence
Borne of being first to the party
And the ensuing, deafening wars
With the partycrashers
With their cranes
Their progress
Their eclectic sense of
Civilized degradation
Squeezing the life from
The Boxes Before Nebraska
That modest set of
Stoic pre-war cookie-cutter domiciles
Perfectly groomed
Impeccably aligned
For Ozzie and Harriet, and
Their silent parade of nasty
The Boxes, they struggle
To remain relevant in the haze of
Modernity's hammer and
Banality's autoimmune disease
To avoid temptation as
The developer's succulent lips and larceny
Get wider and wetter
To simply let be amidst the swollen busy
Not to mention a new cast of characters to contend with:
- The brackish bendejo careening in stride, unaffected by the Boxes' sidewalk's ill-timed permanence and oblique conundrums, left from quakes and lashings of yore
- The livid madman embracing his next lethal dose of humanity as he marches, barks and feuds with phantom nemeses camped out at the Boxes' doorstep
- The ragged cougar across the street, squeamish exterior gone bad, pounded into Angelino submission by the tricks and spells she conjures and endures
- The dual threat of LA Fitness night trolls, basking in cardio vampire glow, while the next morning's brew of rainbow children percolates into G-d's bitter latte, sipped cupless on fresh asphalt.
And yet...they stand
Together as one
By accident
By stupor of justice
By de jure
By no better place to go
Testament to legacies
Begging to remain
Living proof that
Bounty, modesty and sanctity
Can be achieved
When you stop thinking outside of the box.
(4/11/15)
The girls in Nebraska can be quite different,
It gradually Dawns on you that this is true ,
Like catching greased pigs at their county fairs,
Vast cultural differences come into view.
With mothers that have unique info they Share On,
The love traps like money, like biscuits, passé,
Catching and holding are really quite different,
A new magic needed when our feet are clay.
A strong woman like Dawn is really quite gamey,
No obvious pathways that lead to her heart,
You should give it some thought before trying out,
Remember the goal is to win the best part.
In love there's a dance that both people are learning,
In this life roles change at the drop of a hat,
Just which one is strong and which one is bending,
And if it should change ‘round, well what's wrong with that?
The main thing to get is a new age is dawning,
A hope for the future this world's never known,
As all of us live out dreams we're pursuing,
Share God's joy in viewing a childhood that's grown.
Brian Johnston
July 20,2014
Dawn Hetrick and her mother Sharon (Bob's Daughter) are related to Bob Lind,
a farmer friend of mine in Holdrege, Nebraska. On a recent visit, Dawn was
actually not home the evening I arrived. She was actually participating in a
contest at a local county fair where a team of 4 members tries to catch a
'greased pig' and then put it into a barrel. You win the contest by doing this in
the shortest time. Dawn and her friends won the contest last year but this year
came in second.
You may note that both Dawn and her mother are mentioned by name in the
poem! : -)
cicada magic
happy chirping on cornstalks
july orchestra
A coworker and I stand
along a lone Nebraska highway
far from home.
I stand on one end
of a work zone-
a co-worker stands
on the other
communication by walkie talkie
to direct traffic
as it comes and goes.
A road that’s broken
must be made whole
as life bubbles forth
from underground streams
in an unfamiliar place.
Work inches forward
until the sun bleeds
into the sky
when night conversations
friendships are sought
in each other
as we ponder
our time and place
and a light in the parking lot
shines like the moon.
March 19, 2023
Nebraska
Nightfall littered with confetti stars, glitter spilled down from the Heaven’s above
Echoes roaring in with the wind, wailing across the great open plains
Bountiful soil, producing our grains, praying for rain
Raging rivers weaving throughout our land, fishing on the bank, floating on a tube, summer fun for everyone
Autumn foliage earthly hues, winter snow blinding you, spring flowers sprouting up, the summer sun to get that farmers tan - a season for everyone
Skipping rocks across the pond, a slower pace helps us appreciate His grace. That we have “The Good Life”
Kicking back with family and friends is usually how our day ends.
Attached to the community, family’s grounded roots make this a great place to raise a family.
we will rock you poets
jet through here.stay a long while
love to hear your words
The Young Man of Nebraska
There was a young Man of Nebraska
Who rode an old Ass to Alaska
His quest was too bold
For he found it too cold
His Frozen Ass came back to Nebraska
Edited for Viv's Traditional Limerick contest 9.4.18
Amedee Forestier an artistic deception
Illustrated London News’s scientifically creative fiction
a coffee faced man fostered from thumb to tooth
to school books facts digging it as proof
Where the Good Life is
Nebraska, old red and white
Tried and true, country living.
The "poem length police have nabbed me again - so I had to put my new piece
"Sunny"
in the story story section.
Here's the URL:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/sunny_9449
Nebraska straw was irritated to be woven into a hat
I am as plain as a calf, lion, hoot owl, corncob and bat.
you are a beginning, her grandma told her; do not give up.
especially if you are adopted by the lovely miss buttercup.
Buttercup was a fashion diva who lived on both of their farms.
she enjoyed decorating her neck, ears, fingers and arms.
I will make you so pretty, she told the hat, you will be phat.
day lilies, coral cone flowers and perky daisies went onto the hat.
I look so fancy now, I could walk the new york avenue.
I would be welcome in Chicago’s magnificent mile too.
Nebraska straw felt fancy and loved her new look.
her photo was featured on the cover of women’s Redbook
Running back
Do running back do?
Ha! I Caught ball
Come O’ Kansas, come can’t wait
To catch me yet
Ball caught, clutch against my chest
I run the ball a brisk running back receive,
Handoffs from run the ball.
Catch passes Kansas (catch me) if you can
I runnin to ya… running back
2/5/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
Dedicated verse to Calvin D. Jones
former Nebraska Football player
Super Bowl Champion for Green Bay Packers
Omaha Beef Football player
AKSARBEN NEBRASKA
There once was a lady named Aksarben;
To a lot of her friends she's a has-been;
Closet wardrobes onlyred
Everything she owns "Huskers"
Reign Lady Red Aksarben"GO BIG RED"
7/16/19
State Limerick Poetry Contest
Limerick poetry form only
Sponsored by: Kevin Shaw
Eskimo Joe took a liking to Nebraska Flo
His bro said, oh, no, not her, no, no, Joe!
When Joe was with Flo, they each had a glow
Bright as flashing bulbs at a Kansas light show
Love for each other continued to grow
Joe helped Flo plant, weed, garden, rake and hoe
Their romance was fast, it was never slow
Flo showed Joe how to use a crossbow
He refused to kill a buck or a doe
But their love was intense, there was no kind of woe
His friends and her friends, his foe and her foe
These lovebirds got married in Tijuana, Mexico.