Best Pantries Poems
You know we’re very poor, of that we have certainly, never denied.
Then the ‘Obama-I-don’t-Care’ gave us another whammy, Yes, indeed! Oh My!
Now, it’s Peanut butter we will have for supper, and even that we’ll spread thin.
And the little birdies we gave a cup of bird seed, occasionally, when we dared…
Well, this morning they got a handfull of Fruit Loops, and they were really stale!
With the sugar they have in galore, now birdies are doing cartwheels at my door.
All that crazy energy, they’re acting just like my kids. Hey! Is that my old phone?
They’re texting wildly! Not watching where they go! Hey! There’s a tree! Oh No!
Some are doing cartwheels… While others are staggering back and forth!
But bird seeds not an option, under Obamas new plan, now! Don’t you know!
We ate it all last week, on our free cheese, from the Food Pantry, Not! A! Joke!
He was supposed to make it affordable, now he put food… WAY out the door!
Hey! We WERE the poor ones! Now we’re worse, as he runs away! By Darn!
OOOPPPS! Maybe Fruit Loops weren’t such a good idea, after all, I surmise!
The Dirty Birdies, are walking upside down, in circles, saying they want more!
If only they had hands! I’d get out my camera, but I hocked it, for the food store!
We had good insurance before the ‘Obama-I-Don’t-Care’! But Now it’s gone…
And our small paycheck was cut in half! So I stopped my cable!… Well, Darn!
Hubby walks miles to work, in the snow, backwards, no shoes, uphill! It’s true!
Excuse me! I have to go! For it’s off to the Food Pantry, with others I am bound!
I’d impeach that silly idiot! But I’d rather, he had to eat, just like us, at our house!
Hey! Maybe that explains his crazy actions… Take his Fruit Loops away, By Gosh!
And when you’re done, make sure he uses the same ‘Obama-I-Don’t-Care’… As us!
Then take away that raise from Congress… to fill the Food Pantries… Yea! I SAY!
When you’re done! Remember to vote Them ALL OUT! For what they have done today!
Then send them Dumpster Diving with me… Because they’ll need to learn the art!
Darn! What Now? Oh Oh! Those little Dirty Birdies… Have learned how to fart!
Categories:
pantries, fun, funny, humor, humorous,
Form:
Light Verse
So much effort
goes into feeling well...Man,
I’m exhausted! There’s nausea
from supplements, the squeak
and throb, Just One More Rep!~ exercising…
Man, I’m exhausted!
As much effort
going into relaxation – rush to get
things done (always a backup of
things); shuffle schedules, get sitters
for the animals – Man, I’m exhausted!
Even love, the chores, the cards,
the gifts, the emotional lifts...honey-does
seeming to have endless reserves,
never running short on pantries of
exhaustion.
Someday, probably, I’ll
wake-up, unpleasantly surprised
and find myself either stoking furnaces,
fluffing angel wings while polishing
the backside of clouds – Man, give me
a break!
Ouch!~ finally something I asked for….
Categories:
pantries, humorous, husband, inspirational, nonsense,
Form:
Free verse
Pancake Batter Bessie
She makes flapjacks so fine
Avoiding corn syrup
With Tabasco, liver and onions sublime.
We try to stop her
But she is obtrusive and a ghost
Where we make our own batter
We hide it with our toast.
For Bessie will take that batter
And add extra stuff galore.
Peanut butter and sausage
Corn, pickles, oranges and more.
Bessie empties our pantries in the middle of the night
And grills up inventive pancakes that fill every counter in sight.
Our mother has asked her to stay out of her kitchen.
Pancake Batter Bessy’s creative juices can’t for they are always itch’n.
Categories:
pantries, 4th grade, 5th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
We cousins looked forward to our summer holidays which were full of fun
Our barbaric guffaws were louder than the joys of any battle won
One was always on the run while another chased him with a water gun
Heroism was on the footloose, with many ghost chilling yarns being spun
Arguments, fights, boasting, was our forte as each refused to be outdone
Pantries ran out of stock as the food we gormandized was more than a tonne
The swimming pool was but ours, and we refused invasion by anyone
We stood undivided, if a glass had broken when we had hit and run
We were punished together, sheepish grins at smuggled food for we were one!
18 syllables per line
June 14, 2016
For Laura Loo
Categories:
pantries, cousin, food, fun, games,
Form:
Monorhyme
Harvest Bounty
Season of harvest, horn of plenty;
Tiller of soil reaping the fields:
Grains and legumes, hay and vegetables,
Fruits and plants, and gourd family genuses;
Filling silos, barns, pantries, and cellars.
Grapes abound, on vines climbing trellises,
And plump, red tomatoes dangle from stakes,
While apples grapple to keep from falling,
And livestock fatten on pastoral grasses.
Reaper of fields to feed the many.
Crops quenched by rains and meandering streams
Are ripened under the inexhaustible sun
And spring forth produce abundance in season.
Cornucopia spilling over with autumn goodness.
Categories:
pantries, autumn, farm, thanks, thanksgiving
Form:
Idyll (Idyl)
" Maple Syrup and Wild Berries ... "
(From The Solomon Studies Series # 9)
(Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29 / Job 35: 11)
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are Delectably Sweet
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are of GOD's Plants & Nature Treats
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Offers Earth's Tastebud Feasts
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Add Both To My Oatmeal, Pancakes or Waffles, Please
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both, Big Bears & Little Birdies Greet
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Snacks - You Don't Have To Pack To Go Meet
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both, Kiss Our Childhood Memories Cheeks
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both - Put In Pies, Cakes & Cookies We Eat
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are Part of The Best Desserts' Recipies
Tho' One's From A Bush & One's From Trees
Tho' One, Pools Upon Breads & One, Dives Into Creams
Tho' One Is Thick Sap & One's Plump & Juicy
Both Flavors, We Savor As Distinct & Sugary
Tho' One, When Bitten - Squirts Out Instantly
The Other, When Tapped, At First Barely Leaks
And Tho' One Is Poured & One Preserved or Jellied
Both Are Placed As Sweet-Pleasures In Our Pantries
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are of GOD's Confection Delicacies
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are From GOD's Bowl of Delicious Energies
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Holy Father, Thank YOU, For Baking Both Candies
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries ...
Will Your Leaves Be Curing Nations In Garden Entrees'?
(Rev. 22: 2)
O' Yeah! ... Taste and See How GOD Is Good, So Graciously
Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/18/2014
by: MoonBee Canady
Categories:
pantries, nature,
Form:
Couplet
To firefighters charging toward danger
As people run the opposite direction
To safety; literally walking through
Raging fire and smoke to rescue
Those trapped inside their burning homes
Thank you
To social workers, youth mentors
Doing their best to assist people in need
Cope with problems they’re facing
To improve their lives
Thank you
To doctors and nurses healing the sick
And saving lives every single day
Notwithstanding the stress of their jobs
Thank you
To the cops serving and protecting
Our communities; doing their jobs without
Ever using excessive or deadly force
Thank you
To those volunteering at food pantries
Providing goods for low-income families
Or even poorer people; unlikely to be
Thanked by Academy Award winners
Thank you
To those intrepid American soldiers still
Engaging enemy combatants in the battlefield
For the love and service of their country
Leaving none of their fallen infantrymen
Behind in trenches
Thank you
Date written and posted: 04/18/2019
Categories:
pantries, appreciation, dedication, people, thanks,
Form:
Ode
Sound the trumpets
Whispers of lotus flowers
Hot anger trapped in pantries
Shows, shows, shows, and buttons
Making space for eyes
On the return, on the return,
I'll be grateful on the return.
Shot-to-hell oven lights
Borrowing from the borrowers
New linens from fresh tears
Good morning, Sleepyface
You turn gutters into cathedrals
On the return, on the return,
See I'm grateful on the return.
Categories:
pantries, baby, beauty, love,
Form:
Free verse
THE HUNGER WITHIN
Deep within I feel this hunger
So eat, I must, and then no longer
Crave for food but grow much stronger
Make this hunger ease.
But the pangs; the pain, it lingers
Although I feast and lick my fingers
Food from all the kindly bringers
Won’t stop this hunger tease!
What to do I now must wonder
All the pantries I shall plunder
And if it be I make a blunder
Will this hunger cease?
[ O’ Cupid, ‘Help!’, you Love Factotum
Shout “ahoy, Nil Desperandum
You’ll starve no more, ad infinitum”
Quell this hunger, please! ]
True it be I have no lover
Just one I want, I want no other
If food be this there’s none above her
My hunger to appease!
(The Fg 81.5.8)
Categories:
pantries, desire, feelings, for her,
Form:
Quatrain
'Pantry ****' writes Professor Denton
is a crusade that she's been sent on
to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt
that she's an ignorant, stupid lout
She claims that tidy pantries and manicured lawns
are 'racist and sexist structures' upper-crust society is based on
Well, Ms. Denton, if you'd ever lived in a lower-class neighborhood
you'd know instinctively what utter bull-roar your claims rest upon
Categories:
pantries, racism, sick, society,
Form:
Rhyme
Fred has been working with an agency called Hunters for the Hungry for five years. During that time, his food bank has received thousands of pounds of venison to feed the poor. This year, however, when Fred received no call from the agency saying it was ready to deliver the meat, he called the organization himself.
The answering machine was full and Fred never got through. Finally, he called a state officer for the agency and to his dismay he found out what the problem was.
Fred learned that the state’s governor, in an effort to balance the budget, had stripped $100,000 from the allotment to Hunters for the Hungry. In past years, that money had allowed donors of deer meat to have it processed free of charge. The meat would be put in one lb. rolls to be given to non-profit groups that operate food banks.
Fred was told the state now requires hunters to pay for the processing costs as well as donate the meat. Many of the hunters are unwilling to pay for processing. The cost is not cheap.
The staff at Hunters for the Hungry is upset with this new rule as are the food banks that won’t get the meat. As a result, food pantries and soup kitchens across the state have a big problem this year they can do nothing about.
After all, as Fred says, if the goal of private enterprise is to make a profit, and it is, then the goal of government is to take care of people. And in many states, government does a good job of doing just that.
Balancing the budget is important but cuts should not be made, Fred says, to programs that help those already down on their luck.
Fred and others would like to know how the money allegedly saved by the governor’s action is being used. Roads in the state are still crumbling, schools are making drastic cuts and those in need remain in need at a basic level—food.
Meanwhile, the staff at Hunters for the Hungry is trying to locate other meat for Fred’s food bank. They know the demand for food is exploding among those with inadequate income.
The missing deer meat means charities all over the state must spend more for food. This money would normally be spent to help pay for utilities, medicine and other necessities for the needy.
Something’s not right with this cut in the budget, Fred says. What’s worse, he adds, the next election is a long way off.
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
pantries, animal, poverty,
Form:
Prose
Spreading out my blanket on the grassy hill,
The warm wind makes it dance in my hand.
My hair gently mingles with the summer breeze,
And my eyes seem to fondle this fair land.
Trees have greened and blanketed my valley,
Only one tall steeple pierced the dell.
I smile and then lay down up on the hillside,
With contented knowledge whispering, all is well.
As I close my eyes my senses are awakened,
A hint of honey makes me long for more.
So I try to capture scents with every intake,
Lying at nature’s pantries open door.
Far away I hear a sound so softly
sh sh, sh sh a combine hums so sweet.
It calms my inner being as I lay there,
I’m weightless now for I have gone to sleep.
I’m trapped inside a maze as I awaken,
Ebony has hoarded my bright light.
Now sitting on the blanket in my bedroom,
I try to wish it back with all my might.
Tears now gently moisten sulky cheekbones,
Thoughts appear and plummet out at me.
I start to smile and now am really thankful,
For the dream that brought me back to Germany.
08.25.2014
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest #13. Poem not entered previously.
Poet Destroyer
Categories:
pantries, august, beauty, desire, dream,
Form:
Rhyme
Bar none, no shortage of soap shampoo, nor detergent
Courtesy food pantries
Saint Eleanor's Saint Mary's,
Our Daily Bread,
the missus and yours truly (her spouse)
well stocked with good n plenti of
soap, shampoo and detergent.
Spongebob squarepants
would be in seventh heaven,
where sudsy clouds (resembling
Mister Krabs, Plankton,
Sandy Cheeks, Squidward, et cetera),
would drift across celestial vault.
Gratitude bequeathed to prophets of virtue
benevolent good samaritans
who trend righteous true
to the calling of helping hands who renew
faith (mine) in goodness of humanity
assisting not only yours truly
and the missus, but people
from South American country named Peru
or even indigenous tribes
accorded recognition comprising
population of inhabitants occupying New
Zealand, offered reparations
under the Treaty of Waitangi,
a process of reparation allowed
Maori to be fully recognized
at political level in lieu
of unfair practices inflicted upon
original occupant loosely similar
to descendents of long lost tribes of Israel,
endowed with (pure tin) pride
wishing I too could call myself proud Jew,
nevertheless attraction manifests destiny
(mine) someday to learn Hebrew.
Courtesy atheism more so Unitarianism,
I need not adopt
an explicit dogmatic, fanatic, humanistic...,
lunatic, narcissistic, puritanic... paradigm,
but only tout poetic justice (mine)
to recognize laudable traits
linkedin to orthodox faiths,
albeit rationalistic rubric
that caters to selflessness
for no other reason
than allowing, enabling, and promoting
random acts of kindness
without any forthcoming great expectation
downplaying remuneration,
no matter destitution begot mein kampf
hard times living within bleak house
slight hyperbolic exaggeration
poor as a cheesy church mouse poet.
Lemme coast to a fitting conclusion
bringing reasonable rhyming blather
originating courtesy me noggin,
within which wool doth gather
thus I a halt and
dial down philosophical lather,
cuz most likely
ye dear reader would rather
experience palmolive oil slather
preparatory to full body massage.
Categories:
pantries, adventure, appreciation, beauty, care,
Form:
Free verse
Time in Flight!
Older people all tell us time's faster, it seems,
When they think back to much younger days.
Is it true, something real, or just fanciful flight?
Time in school (ask a fool) would give snails brain malaise.
While old age knows less fact, has more dreams,
I'm not thinking at all here of personal plight.
It's my view, near the end, we'll have less time to spend
Chasing dreams, we might like to recall,
For our dreams, have been winnowed as time passes by,
I'm convinced that's a wash, although age may appall:
We've less energy we can expend,
Fewer eggs in our pantries we're hoping to fry.
Multitasking's most likely retards making hay,
For our brains, although clear, have slowed down.
And the balls you can juggle at last disappear.
For the time comes when each man must transfer his crown,
And his longings retire from the fray:
May God give me the Grace to acknowledge Time's spear!
Brian Johnston
May 5,2017
Poet's Notes:
Time's arrow (or spear in my poem) reflects a broad definition of entropy. According to the second law of thermodynamics, entropy in a closed system increases with time and thus explains the fact that time flows only in one direction. Entropy can be viewed, literally, as an expression of disorder or randomness in a system. The universe itself is heading for a cold death according to modern science!
My conclusion here is that it's not that time is going faster, but that we are going slower. We remember how much we used to be able to accomplish in a day and compare it to our present life. The difference suggests to us that time is going faster. I think that is amusing!
Categories:
pantries, age, life,
Form:
Rhyme
little man
lost
in the real estate
of his mind
not knowing
the layout
of what
he might find
clouded
by the dust
of his ego’s broom
stirring up memories
from a
childhood room
no one in the
morning
strangers
in the night
who what
when where
the mantras
of his fright
fed from
paltry pantries
filled
with stale delights
a star dimly shining
on a grey
summer night
he’s not sure
he’s made it
or what he even
made
light falls
to failing
his poems
signed
verses
thin lines
diagrams
and rhymes
clinging to the
outside
of an inside
that never was
turning towards
innocence
not knowing
why
just because.
Categories:
pantries, depression,
Form:
Lyric