Best Peck Poems
Always better to live in shadows
Even though shadows can not be hidden
Only living in darkness
we see the light of promise and solstice
We comprise our soul and self belief
with love that must shine without doubt
Spiraling angel dust sparkling magic
Fallen in mystic theology the man must lay his sword from grace
With warm purity in his heart
chasing away the demons as they only lay for you
A thousand songs of midnight chimes
gently they toll under the moon's grace
Where the sparkles shine bright for many's a year
I remember holding your body tight
Where we will dance cheek to cheek forever
embraced deep down beautiful always right
To love and follow one's heart and desires
is to take an angel's hand kissing her fingertips
With the softest touch
one touch is never enough.......
Co written by David Bucknell and Liam Mc Daid.....
I had a house for sale
They asked me to hold it
Right before I sold it
But my house was a whale
That already set sail
And didn’t give a whit
But it thought what the heck
Coz it altered its tack
So I sold it to Pack
But forgot about Peck
Who was up on the deck
Which was on my whale’s back
But those guys I dislike
So I sold it to Pike
For the HexSonnetta contest
Ah fish tails. Surely an apex of thought on a circular run. Home spun then. Bandy bringing braking balls. Throw then. Whirl then. Spun like a wobbly flan. Candyfloss hair in a breeze. Bending like an octave. Adjusting to the musical state of skies. Hair is dominant so why wear a wig. And just like a bird lean to peck. Peck peck peck. How remarkable then that all seeds are then without mould,bugs, and other vermin. Domesticated dog. Cleans the pots and bakes a cake. Seeded baps merely protrude when looking at a giraffe in leather trousers. But giraffes can morph so mind the beaks. Oh dear. It is undergrowth expressed. Good. It is akin to a mile long fishing experience. No flake. No flay. And a beating boom box 3 2 1 3 21 and now a 2.2 as well. All into the box to explode in a rhythmic rhyme which spans the time in a tidal pattern. Hahahaha and some wild cards of seeds. Hahahaha and a big bike carrying an emu. Hahahaha dusty automobiles laughing in a queue. Hahahaha aerostatics' CSX z
I pick a history from the peck of grains;
Only my retention will take me far.
And through modest abasement will I unwrap it strains?
6/4/2014
Every friggin day
mother hen runs amuck,
while all chicken's
beady eyes appear awestruck
drawing particular
agitation, irritation, perturbation...
of Punxsutawney (Doctor) Phil
(well grounded) woodchuck,
the latter glaring at henpecked
yours truly rifled
tail feathered rooster,
whether communicating
nonverbal sympathy
towards me, a garden variety
Gallus gallus domesticus dumbstruck,
who doth make feeble attempt
albeit without explaining
rhyme or reason
poetic, plaintive, pathetic... cluck,
regarding doomed pyrrhic victory
against incessant cackling
more fowl and upset
than goosed duck,
she that casus belli hideous source
feels cooped up bred to lay eggs
absent any pleasure to fµç*
out her tail feathers fin
hushed yoked for sole purpose
mutter under beak, what the "huck"
subsequently, she takes frustration
buzzfeeding me 'bout chained to
chicken feed to earn
breeder (yours truly) favorable luck
yielding "FAKE" farmer
Matthew Scott Harris megabuck
regarding top quality accolades
raves subsequently generate
he invariably feels moonstruck
matter of fact expanded business
necessitating workers to drive
state of the art rigorous motortruck
the missus decries mistreatment
scratching thru mire and muck
to fill little beasts in belly,
eventually retired, repurposed
relieved invariably chef
buoy or gull hardy sole destiny,
whereby one or another
hired hand will gingerly pluck
every spruced, primped,
groomed... feather
in short shrift priming
precious helpless creature,
(who bemoans lack
of state bird status)
into slaughterhouse five
butchered, filleted (maybe), quartered...
routed to household kitchen
gamely served at potluck
toothpicks applied to teeth
loosening gristle unstuck
after appetites satiated
belt unbuckled years ago
purchased before Sears Roebuck
shuttered stores, plus
bought linens and things
comfortable pillow perfect to tuck
under drowsy sudden sleepy head
unaware coop d'etat mutiny hatched,
whereby sly fox weasels him/
herself to guard henhouse
finding petrified slack beaked
AC/DC powered chicken coop,
where prating poultry thunderstruck.
Cathedrals in tea cups. Jingle jangle playtime then. Golden slippers on a carpet of custard. Slip slide. Drip. No droop. Flavoured water is never fake. Obviously. And count the jellied eels in a bath of crumbs. How very entertaining and mystical. Nine senses of the booming giant. When standing upright in a forest count the plates. Tree cups are benign. So never play hop scotch in a thistle plant. Or a fern. The silent rush of a two ton bullfrog is similar to the call of a spotted hippo drinking lemonade. Gurgle gurgle gargle then spit. Spiritually. Wow. The feisty palate of a shrew. Should never be measured in diameters or decibals or put on a graph. Thankyou. Turn a door into a pillow. How glamorous. Pretty little mermaid does not like to be put in a pot. Pig pock peck picking. X. Cluck. Hahahaha. Wonderful. Homely. Heavenly. Heaps. Count heaps. 1 2 3 4 dance with a very large ornately carved melon. Means are neither mice men or moons. Sensual is the tail arch from a shrouded single sentence on legs. Jumping. I would like to go to the zoo. No wandering bean curd is prevalent in a caged wilderness. Exact to type. Specifications. *** placing a plant at vertical angles. And planting willows in a very astronomical alignment. It is always wise when using a fork to hold it up to one's eyes. Hold one's breath. Then at precisely noon curve to the cards. Bow. Then boom. Boom brings basses. Basses bring beauty. So never argue with a dramatic pickle weighing over 900 tons. Hahahaha xx hahahaha and a dew bud. A snowman skipping. Sandstorms in a glow. With or without sticks. Xx PS I will know take a cow and whirl it. To the beat from the walnuts. Good. Mm mystify not senses at left angles. And form an orderly queue in a moonlit heat. Under stars. In deserts. Camels chuckling chucking charismatic charming centered cosmic costumes. *** trapezoidal trapezoid trapezius trapezoidal xx hahahaha how the fish sing la la La Salle xxxx bring not a brochure to a brook. *** eradication *** statutory provisions xxxxx ha xxxx 83% *** privatisation privy xxxx steeple sap. *** ha xx positioned postures paint *** xeonagraphic . Z.
The dormant sparks lit
Evoking unknown feelings
Buried in the heart
Waiting to leave lethargy
Melting the two crazy hearts
Peckers can peck 20 times a second
Must hurt at just 2 times I reckon
Not swift these guys
Stop now I advise
Or it's off to emergency the pain to lessen
you have to eat a peck-of-dirt
three little rag-a-muffins
sit, heads bent busy,
at a small wooden table
plunked down there
in Shadey Anderson’s hay field
dragged from the house
to that special spot for tea
fine chiana
a Christmas doll set
placed ever so carefully
by grubby play worn fingers
an ancient hickory shades
promises nuts for the table
later, in the fall,
when we sit together
among the roots
borrowed nutcrackers and picks
busy preparing a feast
for now tea is up
the delicately flowered pot
carefully filled with “tea”
from a puddle beneath the table.
Rooster ~
Pecks the dust, raising
Particles, pebbles
Earth.
Hen ~
Comes around
Roosts with him.
Paint a Picture Poetry Contest (7 lines)
Sponsor: Joseph May
September 22, 2020
Bushel Or Peck?
Miracle Man
11/23/2024
Life can be either a bushel or a peck,
too many days we're facing some bottleneck.
Because age is a soft drink that's lost its fizz,
our choices or others make it what it is.
We try to capture those feelings we once felt,
but “we have to play the hand that we've been dealt.”
Some days find our cup nearing empty, not full,
while recalling only days rough as steel wool.
pinpoint is its strike
persistent is the attack
target mind and heart
Why can't we walk up to a girlie on the street
Take them in our arms and peck em on the cheek
Rules rules rules
As we drool drool drool
Also, don't see the harm in asking for a peek
Bushel Or Peck
By: Tom Wright
Life can be either a bushel,
or a peck,
And our choices,
or those made on our behalf,
make it what it is.
Once we were hunter-gatherers
tribes grouped outdoors
before the days of yore
now we're hunt and peckers
each cooped indoors
on personal computer keyboards
and way back when
we'd communicate
banging on the drums
yes since then
we've progressed
today we're all
fingers and thumbs