Best Necked Poems
Behind the parchment screen and eye to eye Punch chided.
Who are you? Who is she? He’d point it out. You’d see.
No marionette with strings was he. Their paths collided;
Judy stands and faces his animosity
The play is writ by man and maid and staged to teach,
the right and wrong of woman’s position, our place.
Standing on two legs, she meets his gaze without speech.
What shenanigan have brought on this crutched lambaste?
Let us ponder Mr. Punchinell’s stance, his missing leg
let his two-eyed profile tease, has Judy been upstaged?
Stumped by the shadow lore, the punch, the audience begs
for the stiff-necked tirade to end her pick engaged.
Speared by humour, we see two realities spar on
with no means to run, the missing third prong’s a pun.
First Published by The Ekphrastic Review
"Fragments and crumbs of life,
all the little pieces"
John Ruskin 1853
Having lived with our Mom in Sydney for six months
Federal Police returned us to live with our father
He had begun working as the art teacher
at a small Christian school in Tasmania
He and other staff members lived at the school.
I was 8, my sister 6. Geneva was experimental then.
Elementary students were taught together in one hall.
Desks divided from next, talk was completely disallowed.
An American curriculum called ACE was adhered to.
As the art teacher's daughter, naturally I washed all the brushes.
Three utterances compiled in class per day earned detention.
Despite it being 1991, rulers whapped knuckles on occasion.
Cherished butterfly catching buddy, best friend, Penny
Fed apples from ample pile to fence wire necked horses
Dawn saluting dairy sold milk for locals, chapel on site
Peers lived a wall away, an idyllic community lifestyle
Generally, three afternoons per week, my father took
My sister on playground, shopping outings.
I stayed home. Instructed not to go outside.
Staff's children grassy antics gazed at through glass.
I ate vitamin c tablets by the dozen, and scrapings of butter.
A staff member bought all our groceries from a limited list.
I sang for company. There was no radio or TV.
My Dad and sister returned at nightfall. Chewing on sweets.
Alone in the house, I imaged it was a cruising ocean vessel
I sailed down the dim driveway, swamped by giant pines
I took apples, a cow, a Bible, pencils for sketching horses
Sailing on jaunty sun hugged foliage, I was captain
'Geneva Has Evolved'
Constance La France
All The Little Pieces Contest
25th August 2020
Early morning and the gantry cranes
at Webb Dock look like long necked
dinosaurs lining up to drink from the river -
and the sky is aglow as it might have been
when tinged by the first hint of that asteroid
slamming into Yucatan on the other side
of the world 66 million years ago.
This is 2025 and no asteroid threatens
our fragile planet, yet more subtle
things do - things that reside in the dark
precincts of the human soul that pour
out pollution and in silos and undersea,
stoke embers that could at anytime
break free and incinerate us all.
*NOTE: Jack and I wonder how many of you have heard of the Zona Shue case –
an American murder victim who had revenge in Virginia in the late 1800s.
Zona was killed by her husband, Edward Shue, who then took elaborate steps to
cover his crime. In an attempt to disguise Zona’s broken neck, Edward dressed her
corpse in a scarf and high necked dress, stuffed her coffin with pillows (to support
her vertebrae) and refused to allow even the doctor near the body.
However, Zona appeared to her mother and revealed the truth. Following
exhumation and an autopsy, Edward was found guilty of murder. It was the only
case in American history where information provided by a ghostly apparition was
admitted as evidence for consideration by jurors.
Jack and I are co-sponsoring a contest on ghost poems. Our co-write "A Ghost's
Testimony" below will give you an idea what we're seeking in entries.
"A Ghost's Testimony"
"She must have fallen down the stairs:
A tragic accident," he said.
"I've washed her body, laid her out -
Oh, Doctor Knapp, my Zona's dead!"
"No accident! Shue broke my neck.
Mother, please hear my ghostly plea.
Take him to court and make him pay;
It's murder in the first degree."
“I’ve dressed her in her high necked frock…
Thought pillows by her neck looked fine…
She’d want to wear this scarf,” he wept.
“But no one touch the corpse - she’s mine!”
"Thanks, Mom, for bringing this to court.
The autopsy was not done right!
With malice Shue cut my life short.
Exhume my body; shed some light."
“Her mother wants to see me hang,
But she can’t prove my guilt,” he fumed.
“She claims the body sheet turned red,
And wants to have my wife exhumed.”
"The judge disagreed and allowed
My spirit world testimony.
Shue, my killer, was not so proud;
A death in jail for this phony!"
A giraffe approached
We necked
An elephant met me on the jungle path
I stored many thoughts in his trunk
A monkey smiles at me
Now I have no more bananas
A zebra wants to discuss the issues of life
I replied, such things are never black and white
On a boat, an alligator swam by
He offered to sell me an old family briefcase
I have, I confess a gold fish with blonde hair
I named her Donald as bizarre as it seems
I tried to hire a group of rabbits
I said it’s the carrot or the stick
They were hopping mad
Multiplying their demands
I gave in
My coyote lawyer was useless in such matters
Alas as I am older now
So I bought a turtle
He slows me down a little
I slow him down a lot
I now have a great admiration
For Dr Doolittle
Who after all
Did a little and a lot
Although there was that one case never solved
No one though, really gives a quack!
Where black-necked cranes come to chat with me
In the company of wine and deep brown honey
Flowing from apple twigs in the heavenly valley
Of Bumthang , carved into the sublime Himalayas
By glacial melt and monsoon rains in collaboration
Giving rise to lovely landscapes offering relaxation
In Buddha’s silence, there lies my dream destination
To fill some vacuum in a week of my next vacation
In the north east of the Indian subcontinent where
Beautiful girls and Buddhist monks are very sincere
(Bum refers to girls and thang a flat piece of land)
Everywhere you will see Buddha’s lifted hand
In consonance with the land an ever demure voice
Of Buddhism says: go to the mystic blue and rejoice
Along the murmur of icy rivers and lakes everywhere
Pink rhododendrons exude fragrance in the fresh air
Flowers red, yellow, pink, white, lilac, green and blue
For our sore minds and thirsty psyche all these hues
In the shades of Pine and Oak monasteries as a nest
The imposing peaks descend here to take a little rest
Four charming valleys, Tang, Ura, Choekhor, Chumey
Will greet us in a smile on our trip to Bumthang valley
Morning is wakened here by blue-capped rock thrush
Beside the flapping flags the gurgling streamlets gush
Where Gross National Happiness instead of GDP
Determines economic progress of the society
Come, dear friend, to join me in the amazing journey
From the chains of self to a deep sense of infinity
_________________________________________________
February 13, 2016
"This New Eden"
This eden
rolls gently over me
like Sunlight beams
the car lights shine
luminosity along
the road, the dark night
dims eventually and
morning arrives
This eden
rolls gently over me
life through pages
the antithesis of
a booker prize
don’t get all
literal on me
I’m in draft
it's messy
notes in the margins
left for heart
right for mind
the middle road
a highway of words
the body parched
the tyres all melting
sticky slow grips
the wheel shifting gears
up a notch or two
This eden
rolls gently over me
like Sunlight beams
they can’t see the
forest for the trees
the stings of bees kissing
velvet bookmarks silky
stretches of moist
long-necked fevers
I’ll park here for
a little while
the dark night
dims eventually,
morning arrives
this new eden
rolls gently over me
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
On the Sixth Day
On the sixth day God created the animals
Oh what fun creating the animals;
Rolled up each sleeve to create all the animals
On the sixth day.
God made cats and dogs and hogs and frogs
Elk and moose – mongoose on the loose;
Singing birds and fuzzy chicks –
The Lord in Heaven even made a tic? Ick!
On the sixth day God created the animals.
God made camels, rhinos, laughing hyenas
Lions, tigers, funny stripped zebras;
Robins that fly and pigs with curly tails
Roadrunners, coyotes and the slowest snails. Beep! Beep!
On the sixth day God created the animals.
God made leopards, cheetahs, elephants, oh my!
Bumblebees, ladybugs and all the butterflies;
Bears and badgers, bunnies too!
Koalas down under then made the kangaroo. Yahoo!
On the sixth day God created the animals.
God made otters, dolphins, seals and grey whales
Beavers, peacocks, squirrels with their funny tails;
Worms that slither and tortoise that creep
Wombats, meerkats, silver fox and fuzzy sheep! Baa!
On the sixth day God created the animals.
God made gophers, manatees, long-necked giraffe
Anteaters, platypus just to see us laugh;
Walrus, polar bears, doe eyed deer;
Possums and skunks, not to fear! Whew!
On the sixth day God created the animals.
God made crickets, fireflies, marmots, muskrats,
Jaguar, walking sticks, radar guided bats;
Beavers, ferrets, woodchuck, raccoons -
Made the wolves who howl at the moon. Howl!
On the sixth day God created the animals.
God made crab and shrimp and gooey ducks
Lobster, cows, grasshopper ruckus;
Horses, ants and donkeys forlorn
But, God didn’t make a unicorn? Oh no!
On the sixth day God created the animals.
God made gophers, panthers, giant roly-poly bugs
Gold fish, spiders, clams in shells -so snug
Birds that swim and fish that fly
All these creations – my, oh my! My, oh my!
On the sixth day God created the animals;
Oh what fun to create all the animals;
Rolled up each sleeve to create the animals –
On the sixth day! Yeah!
Anteater's with their incredible 2 foot tongue
Bison their hides, one time under the gun
Cheetah's my, can they run
Dolphins bringing so much fun.
Elephants, Indian and African by the size of their ears
Fin Whales hunted, we share their fears
Giraffes so elegant long necked and tall
Hummingbirds hover, and never fall.
Insects, so varied in size and shape
Jackals howl as they relate to their mates
Kodiak, the island bears
Lobsters, caught, creeled and snared.
Mammoth, the awesome beast from the past
Nymph, insect larva's showing species may last
Octopus, tentacled dude of the sea
Plankton, the only food that is free.
Queen Bee, on the throne with her drones
Rhino with their keratin horns
Salmon living, return to spawn and die
Thrush, singing songs in tune as they fly.
Uakari, the Amazon new world monkey
Vulture's make the ground carrion free
Whippets a joy, as you watch them race
Xerus, the squirrel - the grounds his place.
Yak, the bovine of Himalayan heights
Zebra, white equids with their black stripes.
i can never tell you how displeased readers
are by that position the singular
moment when nothing makes any sense
to them at all but only to a few brilliant pebbles
that soar across the night canvas unknown
to
the dullards of academia
it is the ONLY reason
i write; to express
self to those very few
who HEAR ME.
the rest are noise and there is no
time
for wasting one's artistry on rigid brains
and stiff
necked human-geese.
Then again, my imagination never demands
an audience of understanding but more
of an emotional receptivity.
A slumbering shadowy cloud-vignette
seeping from
a tormented mind onto
freshly sliced paper cuts.
This is the
color red screaming in a dying ink stroke.
:: 07-21-2017 ::
At the zoo, I was walking one day
when my young son had wandered away.
I glanced back; he came running to me:
"Mom, a dinosaur. Come look and see!"
I looked to the left and the right.
No dinosaur, of course, was in sight.
Whatever could my child mean?
What animal could he have seen?
Past a crocodile, I and my son
went running. Could that be the one?
Its scales had a similar look
to one in his dinosaur book.
"Is it that one?" I asked with a smile.
"Is your dinosaur that crocodile?"
"It's THERE!" he cried. I had to laugh.
What he'd seen was a long-necked giraffe.
June 28, 2019
For Dinosaur(S) - For Children Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Based on true story of my sister and her son Jon-Jon
Beyond the Black Fence
By Sy Roth
The land lay fallow
Beyond the black fence.
Growth once dressed in a white blanket of hoar in winter landscapes
Lush in summer months
Deer speckled backdrop
Munched all day behind a scrim of lush camouflage
And black birds rested on the scrub
Coupled with the land and each other
A fornucopia of perpetuation.
But like time
It marched in to war on its own turf--
The cranes, yellow tractor-footed creatures
Tore at the soil and formed mountains of dirt
That wild (plants?) draped over
And the long-necked (?) concrete spreaders
Filled the gaping foundations with its gray slush
And the deer fled
And the black birds had resting places on the open rooftops
And the last trees crumbled to the diesel monsters
Where future houses will stack itself with the firewood
Of septuagenarians and those who aspire to end that race.
Incessant noise of change
A cock-a-doodle-doo alarm
On the other side of the black fence
My side where I find comfort in a book
And a drink to whet my appetite
And conjure up the images of the verdant green that once was
And the hoary land that once was my winter vista
If
By Byron Juno
If women MUST die
Then Atieno would die first
If children were to forage
Then Atieno's would forage forever
If women were to walk necked
Then Atieno's would walk throughout the year
If women were to trade their honeypot
Then Atieno's would donate hers
If women were after money not
Then Atieno would be not
If women were to sell their daughters
Then Atieno would sell to a merchant
The woman from the far away land
The woman with less embarrassments
The woman The woman The woman
Whose legs are loose for a walk
Whose waist never tire
Whose joints are ever green
Whose body children is yummy!
Whose body children say is tender
Whose body children say is fresh
Whose lips has tasted all drinks
Whose eyes have not only seen death
Whose back has sweated on all beds
Whose legs have wiped all door mats
Whose scent even cactus knows
Whose farms lie fallow
Atieno the generous woman
Generous woman who never says NO
Who will guide our young girls?
Who will show our girls the right way?
But she says;
Her husband is jobless
Her husband is ever seated
Her husband is ever sleeping
He wants first born treatments
Atieno! Will you not be buried
On the right side of your husband's house?
Will your husband not be the first
To throw black soil in your grave?
Will your husband not say
you were a good woman?
Will your husband not allow mourners
In his compound?
Whispers of weeping willows beckon me,
“Forget the rain; get ready for a ride!”
On a magic carpet I soar o’er sea
Worldly troubles melt away as I glide
To another world where flora is lush
There are no signs of civilization
As I land next to a pink butterfly
Against my elbow this creature does brush
Have I begun a new incarnation?
That can’t be, for I know I didn’t die
All is still, not a hush
And even by my best calculation,
Nary a soul is lingering nearby
But creatures aplenty bid me good day
Seeing a long-necked giraffe makes me smile
He bows his neck and soon goes on his way
How lucky I feel! This trip is worthwhile
From the forest a lion approaches
Gentle as a lamb, he purrs at my feet
As I reach over to pick a red rose,
Not one thorn encroaches
Wafting through the air an aroma sweet,
A welcome sense of serenity grows
From the brook beside me a large trout jumps;
Splashing is his way of saying hello
Now why was I feeling down in the dumps?
When twilight descends, the forest’s aglow
With lavender, amber, pink hues and more
This is the harmony ancestors knew
And as I lie down, my spirits revive
Gone are things I abhor
My, this fantasy was long overdue
And I feel so blessed just to be alive
*Entry for Cyndi’s “AN ODE TO SMALL COMFORTS ON A RAINY AFTERNOON” contest
Beside Every Iridescent Node Grows
Beauty, Eyeing, Instigating, Nodding Gracefully.
Bounty Energizes Inundating Nascent Growth.
Brilliant Emerald Ignites Newborn Grains.
Bathers Each In Nuance Gather.
Beyond Eternity, Infinite Night Gropes.
Beside Emerging Isotopes Nonchalantly Grasping
Bottle-necked Entities In Nature’s Great
Beneficence Engages Ideology's Non-sequitur
Givers.
Bare endings. Idols Neglected Gape.
Basking Ecclesiastic Idiosyncrasies Nascent Glow.
Because Each Idol Names Great
Beauty. Effigies, Itinerant Namesakes, Grin.
Beside Each, I Narcissus' Grow.
being being being being being being being
First Published in Femmewise Cat