Best Occasions Poems
White potato, Sweet potato, Hot potato, Irish.
White, sweet, hot, and Irish..
Spuds for all occasions.
We fry'em.We slice'em.We dice'em.We bake'em.
We mash'em.We hash'em.We whip'em, then dip'em.
I like'em next to my hamburger.French fried.
If you're hungry girl? Just give me a call.
Bring the knife, the fork, the plate, and you all.
We're ready for spuds, and we drink lots of suds.
The party is movin', and we're really groovin'..
So come on down, to our Irish Pub.
There's plenty of food, and loads of fun.
White potato, Sweet potato, Hot potato, Irish..
White, sweet, hot, and Irish.
Spuds for all occasions.
We fry'em.We slice'em.We dice'em.We bake'em.
We mash'em.We hash'em.We whip'em, then dip'em.
I like'em next to my hamburger.French fried.
Spuds for all occasions..
Potato-Food-Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2000,2015..ALL rights reserved..
Today, as I languish in intense intellection,
Recalling the former assigned to my course.
Questioning why this versified collection,
But knowing they arrived by a vital force.
Each imparted entities to my well being,
perhaps, on occasion, an unbiased voice.
Embedding ideas when not clearly seeing,
Then leaving me to contemplate my choice.
Some tracks were left profoundly inscribed,
That the fourth dimension stole not away.
This retention came as a tonic prescribed,
Propelling me toward a more opportune day;
She looks in the mirror
And the tears rolls down her face
The lines she never notice before
Are now all over the place
She fumbles with a cigarette
As she tries to get it light
She heard the knock on the door
Asking if she’s alright
Every one comes up to hugs her
There’s not much they can say
They just bend their heads
And slowly walk away
Jasmines flowers over the fire place
That he knows she’s always like
And he would always bring it for her
When he comes from work at night
The weather outside is changing
Thunder sounds like distance drums
She goes over to the table
Pour her self a drink of rum
The rain started falling
As she walks out the door
Today he’s is leaving her
And won’t come back no more
She gets in the back seat
Looking out the windows
She looks at the house
A long line of cars follows
This is the last time
That He will ever be home
Now her life is so empty
He just went and left her alone
She thinks of the years
And how quickly did it pass
He swear to be here for ever
Today he lies under the grass
The place is getting dark now
As she says he final goodbye
Don’t know how to face tomorrow
But she knows she got to try
One of life’s saddest occasions
Is when a love one passes away?
And many want to comfort her
Just can’t find the right words to say
Every thing that could be said
Has probably been said already
And some times the best thing to do
Is to just give a hug and let them be
And at the funeral service today
She buries her heart with him
And she walks out the cemetery gate
A new challenge she face within
Today its Ten years pass already
She places flowers on his stone
And I think she met him in heaven
Because she died that night alone
I was nothing but a wall flower
in my early teens
Went to house parties and stood against the wall;
watching everybody dance, grooving on the floor,
wasn't no fun at all
Until my oldest sister taught me how to dance one day
She taught me how to do the hustle,
she showed me how to do the flashlight
Taught me how to ballroom dance,
showed me how to hold a girl close and tight
She taught me how to dance fast,
she showed me how to dance slow
Taught me how to move my hips,
showed me how to make my backbone slip
Then when I went to the parties,
it felt good knowing how to jitterbug
It felt good knowing how to cut the rug
But when I got older, I stopped partying and such
I found that plopping down
in a Laz-e-boy didn't require much
Now I only rise up to dance on those special occasions:
weddings and family reunions,
holiday gatherings and graduations
Those times are often few and in between;
but when the music is being played then,
it does a body good to get up and start dancing
those notable occasions
away from home overnight
must be remembered
exceptional times
musical concert with friends
celebrating your freedom
in a strange city alone
your first broadway show
memorable opening
Written December 6, 2022
[adaptation suggested in contest
7-7-5/ 5-7-7/ 7/5/7 syllables]
Walked in my topsiders
Another path of lies and outsiders
Sashayed dauntlessly in a setting of acquaintance
Laugh, drink, and dance… Forget the stance
For every hour’s worth of deceit
This lie is my fuel to withstand my emotional defeat
A night pumped with intoxication
Denial is worth the suffocation.
Forced by circumstances
I’m living this life with little chances
I am expected to feed my responsibility
However, fazed by youth, dopamine and rationality
Occasions are not a lie
I lie for the occasion.
The heavy feeling is my hangover
Not from intoxication but from my treacherous nature
This fiction is more than YOLO and FOMO
It’s to cast brilliance from an incandescent shadow
My faith will bring me to places I’ve never been
Set up the engine, let the lies begin.
We always eulogize a child on his birth
We also eulogize a person on his death
On both occasions he is unable to appreciate the praise
At birth he is unable to understand the words
At death his ears are unresponsive to the sound
Why do we always say good things on these occasions?
Must we confine our eulogy only to these occasions?
A child doesn’t understand our words at the time of his birth
So it doesn’t matter whatever our words may sound
The logic isn’t the same for a person on his death
We have an innate fear that his spirit is hearing our words
We wish to impress the spirit by using words of praise
Why should we impress the spirit with words of praise?
There is a belief that the spirit will leave after such occasions
Some believe that the spirits are not influenced by words
Our fate after death depends on all our deeds after birth
All good deeds will be rewarded by the Creator after death
Fate is not decided on words irrespective of how it may sound
It is impossible to infer true feelings from how the words sound
We often pretend to please others by telling words of praise
These pretensions are useless when hearing ability ceases on death
But may be fruitful when spoken to others on different occasions
It is ineffective when the sense of hearing is undeveloped at birth
The generation of feelings depends upon how we express the words
Human relations depend on how we express our feelings in words.
Expressions, conveying different feelings, are said in a varying sound
The effectiveness is lost when conveyed to a child at birth
Damaged human relations can be repaired through words of praise
The appropriate expressions must be chosen to suit the occasion
Feelings and expressions must amalgamate in the occasion of death
One of the most solemn occasions in life is that of death
While expressing feelings we carefully select the words
The choice of words matches the vibes of the occasions
The speeches are characterized by a particular sound
On such occasions we forget our true feelings and praise
Ebullient feelings are aroused on the occasion of birth
The strength of a relationship is expressed by the identity of the sound
The effectiveness of the expressions rest on the choice of words
Alas! The only expressions a child has are cries at birth
An immigrant was walking, walking towards me
I said " stop right there!, and observe and see"
Where is your taxes and wages you earned?
Then again Uncle Sam will never learn
Keep em' out this holy country land
But who will build this border at hand?
Maybe it be Pepe or Maria
Or the west indians practicing Santeria
And that was very racist of me
But then again this is the land of liberty
For freedom of all that is your right
To make a paycheck cuz meeting ends is tight
So love an immigrant you'll be surprised
And if they say they don't speak english, well that's just a lie
Music we love it
But with memories of a
Far time in our mind !
November Occasions
Yon
citrus
ejecting
shifts blue eyes green
sovereign swallowtails feast midst chartreuse range
~0~ ~0~ ~0~ ~0~ ~0~
whilst background pumpkin skies carve redemption
bulbed heels unearth
redolent
spicy
pie
2020 September 22
*1st Place*
Double Tetractys 3
~~Eve Roper
Picture #2
1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1
A party is to celebrate
one of life's happy occasions
A get-together reaches out
to folks of diverse persuasion
Going out on the town
gets us up from our couches
Though going out to eat
may turn our stomachs to slouches
The main thing's we keep busy
as we move through life's stages
Birthdays, Weddings, Anniversaries
all use up work's wages
Just make sure before you die to leave over a tip
So you can spend eternity comfortably, R.I.P.
A forenoon mist increased toward absence,
whilst every part of listless shadows clears,
vibrant October stage thousands of cheers,
as columns of trees in theme bring balance.
Advents of crimson hints and orange glaze,
dew exhaled whispers, upon ousted leaves,
the caress of a late summer breeze heaves,
pumpkin skies carve a sun unending praise.
Harvested fields expose some ready earth,
since reticence that lingers stretch midday,
a blessed number of eyes vision lord's day,
gifted gaze of Heaven's garden liked mirth.
Fall echo's as the sketched season of four,
captured forest brighten in darken glades,
as fell leaves still draw, lucid color shades,
an Indian drummed a chant delayed score.
Decorative bordered, flawless wrapped all,
enhancing picturesque arts fine postcards,
messenger doves fluffy tone girth regards,
redemption threshold benign hearts a Fall.
2020 September 30
*1st Place*
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (27)any form any theme
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2020 October 16
*4th Place*
October Poetry
~~Regina McIntosh: Judged 2020 October 08
1 ALCOHOL AND POETRY
When I put these two elements together, I feast
much easily...
2 INFLEXIBLE
Stubborn is a difficult person to deal with, especially
because usually you don't perceive what they expect
of life...
3 DISTURB LUCIDITY
Too lucid, makes you suffer, makes you cry... lucidity in this
crazy life, in which we live, the illusion is a must...
4 COMPLIANT
Everything has a limit, once in a while just losing the
goosenecks to sort out the mess...
5 YOU ARE MUSIC...
Your pitch is too loud and your music I can't
sing...
6 LOVE AND NEED
Love is love, lack is lack...
7 TEARS THAT DON'T FALL ARE FORTRESS
Strongholds are soldiers who don't cry... shed blood
through the eyes...
8 READ ALL THE FAMOUS
The famous ones I've read, they all imagine they're humble..
The little ones I've read feel they're almost all superior...
9 POET AND EVERYDAY AND THE IMPOSSIBLE
For the poet, everything impossible is everyday... and the impossible
same is always possible when writing...
10 CHOCOLATE COMPANION OF SOLITUDE
Chocolate is a companion to female loneliness,
I love chocolate, but for my loneliness,
I prefer the friend single malt... !
A good day there would be little blood
A bad day, she could paint the room
Though, that was a definite mistake
But then again, she was just a beginner
Not a virgin as such
She was never a virgin
The stomach was the best place to cut
It was hidden
Like the guilt
Eating away everyday
Birthdays were the worst
His special occasion
You didn’t bleed so much from the stomach
The pain was also stronger
But it was a nice sort of pain
It belonged to her
The years have passed
Seemed strange
One more special occasion
The grandkids had never met him
They watched as the curtain closed on him forever
She turned away
Unconsciously touching her stomach.
At every festive, grand occasion
Not all can join in celebration
Their minds beclouded by their sorrow
Leave them be, until tomorrow