Best Peckish Poems
Mourn not my Son... your Father's dead
And there's nothing to be done.
Do not mount the battlements in my defense
As the race was fairly won.
The kitchen table has not been set...
My chair lies stark and bare.
No one leans against the window sill
To enjoy the good night air.
The wooded trails lie hushed and quiet
Where my thoughts no longer stray.
The geese who consumed my crusted bread
Grow more peckish by the day.
And excuse the Baker if he looks confused
When I am not there to buy his rolls.
And commit to the Ferryman two copper coins
As we all must pay his toll.
And Nature will seem modestly indifferent
As the Sun will rise again.
But remember well this road we've traveled
Where I called you Son and Friend.
Gird yourself against the slings and arrows
And receive my falling torch of deeds undone.
But before you walk the hallowed ground
Be sure to overindulge a little fun.
I weep for those who have not journeyed
Upon the wondrous track to mark our gain.
But with you my Son...who really knows?
We may yet... get to do it all again.
Mortality is lovingly given by the Grace of God
And to its betterment all should strive.
But alas our lives have one primal flaw...
No one here... gets out alive.
With this my spirit soars to celestial heights
So please accept this well-earned death.
And as Son and Friend... we will meet again.
When you partake your final breath.
And be not shy... about my demise
That allows me to walk on Heaven's path.
As only a fool like me would keep a toaster...
In the same room a person takes a bath.
The End
My dad always takes care of me
He just loves me all the time,
Even when i disturb him
When his words he tries to rhyme,
He quickly picks me up
And gives me a loving pat,
He'll make sure i'm quite content
Before he puts me on my doggy mat.
When i was young i used to
Put my front paws on the window-sill,
It was to welcome home my daddy,
It gave him such a thrill.
I used to chase my sister
Around our large front lawn,
It became our favourite game
Ten weeks after we were born.
My daddy takes me in the car
Down to the local shop,
Then we go walking in the park,
Afterwards, i tend to want to flop.
Three years ago i went blind,
So my dad became my sight,
Sometimes he has to carry me,
My daddy is my shining light.
We live in a gigantic kennel,
Although my dad calls it our home,
"Hey dad i'm feeling peckish,
Can you fetch another bone."
Author Notes: I have two litter sisters, both 13 years of age. They are the best friends i've ever had. Bindi went blind 3 years ago and although we sometimes find it a little hard she still enjoys life immensley. When she's in our local park, she remembers the wide open spaces and feels safe to run. She quite often breaks into a loping run alongside me.
I wish to thank Bindi for her lovely poem-----dad
kidscomedypoetry.com.au
Winter beach
09/08/2018
Cool breeze, Leafless trees, Arctic freeze
White cap waves, crumple and cave
Solemn solitary Seagull, pestering peckish people
Sandy seaweed soaked, covers beach cloaked
Frozen fisherman, fearlessly on rock stand
Baby carriages creaking, silent sleep waking
Boxer dog proud, breaks silence loud
Terrifying tike terrorises on her bike
Vast vista view, living large a few
Clear sky cloud free, wind swept jet stream
Smelling salts from sea, rejuvenation for me
Jan and Daz were out strolling one day
Daz turned and asked did I fancy a lay
I blushed like a schoolgirl and said Daz don’t be so rude! …
But I’m feeling quite peckish, I fancy some food
Daz started to fumble and to my surprise
He pulled out a whopper I gulped at the size
Get your teeth into this Jan was all Daz did say
For there in his hands was a huge bag of Lay’s!
I wrote this back in April. My dearest wish is that one day Darren will be back to add another verse
Lay's in not a product we have in the UK
20th June 2015
A few beams of sunshine with a draft of cooling air
Peckish taste for flavorsome things
A tune flying through your mind like a swift on the wing
Easily provoked laughter: childish, but clever
Everything and nothing to do, with no order in which to do them
Reminiscence of past great days and events
Enough company there for the day
A reassuring relax which reminds that all is clear for now
IT'S FOOD THAT I DESIRE
My peckish belly crumbles thunder loud
As I smell yummy Beef Wellington
Oven-fresh serve in silver plate
In my hand a knife and fork
I slice the whole in halves
Scent satiates more
Tempting! Tickling
my white teeth
to bite.
BITE!
I
Slowly
Savor each
and every bite.
Juices spilling fast.
Homing my hungry mouth.
Silencing my mad stomach.
Done and full, I burp not just once.
"Gracias!" I said, appreciating the food.
Wanting to know and try it too someday...
(c)
10:29 pm
September 15, 2014
Nietzsche got it wrong
And though I’ve often heard it said
I think I’m sure of it myself
Yes - I know I am not dead
I never died, nor was I born
I am older than the Earth
And as for all the stars around
I oversaw their birth
I am ancient. Modern. Wise
Sager than the sage
Though not as great as once I was
But I put that down to age
I remember when I started
On a creative cuisine quest
I had a lot of great ideas
I did what I do best
I put everything together
Stirred it all in one big pan
Left it on the kitchen stove
And returned to a big bang
The house was in pure turmoil
Matter spread everywhere
I went up to have a shower
(Well, I had to wash my hair)
On returning through the dining room
I found a small blue orb
A beautiful little watery rock
And my attention was absorbed
So I did a bit of dabbling
Gave it life, with cunning stealth
And having spent some time on that
I left it on a shelf
Then I got a little peckish
Needed to eat and breathe and stop
I was disarray, what can I say...
I went down to the shop
But unlike my other projects
(those where I cook and bake)
This one got away from me;
Leaving the house was a mistake
On my return, I was to learn
That everything had spread
The kitchen was now 5 miles wide
Geography hurt my head
I thought I’d spotted a hint of blue
In the corner of my eye
But as I moved towards it
It rolled to who knows where or why
Since then, the house just onward grew
Meanwhile, I get ever old
I wonder how that rock is getting on
Out there in the cold
Now and then, I’ll hear a bit
Crackling through my radio
And though some seem to think that I’m long gone
It’s still there - that’s good to know
I do keep looking for it
It’s what I have to do
I’m forever hunting for that magic globe
But next time, I’ll just make stew
With plunger in hand Fred was called from his bed
To the homestead of Sue a sexy redhead
The water bed pouring
As hubby was snoring
Fred was fine-tuning Sue till sunrise instead
Hubby woke peckish and went down for some bread
He was still unaware yet of Sue and Fred
Fine-tuned to perfection
No fear of detection
Sang 'Move over Darling' and jumped in with Fred
5th January 2019
Limericks Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Melting snow,
Cool breeze,
Crowded crows diving in a row,
Return of the unfriendly bees,
Colorful rainbow in the sky,
And the strange songs of the talkative parrot;
These are signs that Spring is around the corner.
Again, she has defeated Queen Winter,
With that incredible show in the parking lot.
She is now wearing the crown and three ostentatious rubies;
Oh my golly! She can also poise better than all of the beauties
Gathered during the Ms. Universe beauty pageant.
Sigh of Lent,
Palm Sunday,
Cheerful children at play,
Green gardens decorated with confetti,
Happy humming birds flying high,
And the young grand-mothers in bikini;
These are hints that the celebration
Will commence early this spring.
One duck is already being trailed by an offspring,
Meanwhile, the zebras are being chased by one peckish lion,
Which can no longer run like a supersonic train.
Amidst all of that, somebody is going to have fun.
Copyright© March 2009, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of many poetry books:
“Sparkles of Love and Etincelles de l’Amour”
“Mounts And Valleys of Love”
Numbers make the world,
no smiles or batted eyes here
numbers make the world,
no sticky-sweet fingers or waving palms
numbers rule without qualms
Gross domestic products and
tonnage of staples on actuarial tables
PSI and APY ratioed percentages
leveraged capitals
daily numbers of sales calls -
numbers are to do 'n' all
Numbers make the world,
no full moon in lapis sky
no fresh-picked basil on peckish plate
no dreaming lovers to salivate
only numbers of bushels per acre
no smokey-sweet of roasted ears
It's numbers that count
no blessings of sermon on the mount
for the numbers shall inherit
by long or short division,
able to sway, today's decision
about what's important, what life is for
it's all about a number, nothing more,
so don't worry 'bout what's next in store
'cause you can't count on it anymore
- it's days are numbered
like counting sheep, now close your
eyes, 'n' get some REM sleep
dreaming now of days, away ago,
when it wasn't so -
that numbers made the world
© Goode Guy 2013-04-01
I shiver tonight
I see the scary pumpkin
it dances alone
the witch is glaring
she is flying on her broom
the moon is so cold
the evil elf waits
for the right time to be bad
his grin is so dull
the vampire is sleeping
he shall rise with his army
to feed on the blood
the ghost laughs loudly
he flies like a butterfly
yet he is peckish
the werewolf runs fast
he is in search of a mate
his time will run out
the halloween night
it is full of surprises
i try to sleep sound
under my pink quilt
i hear the wind moaning loud
dawn is awaited!
You’re such a loving charmed romantic soul
Feeling so blessed to have you in my life
To tickle cuddle nibble and cajole
It's very endearing to be your wife
You turn each day to a celebration
Joy is our day to day barometer
You and I in it for the duration
Clutching to passion's thermometer
When chimes the melodic stroke of midnight
Light sparkles green for a delightful kiss
Appetite sweetly peckish for a bite
In your arms tender times to reminisce
Break open that chilled bottle of champagne
We have nothing but romance on the brain
AP: 1st place 2022
Submitted on July 7 2019 for contest BEST SONNET 2019 sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 5TH
PHONE BONE DELIGHT
A dog on a phone
Rang, ‘Dial-a-Bone,’
He wanted a delivery
Made to his home.
He also asked for
Small liver treats,
There’s nothing like dining
On two meats.
He smacked his lips
And howled at the moon,
Anticipating the delivery
Would be there soon.
When the van arrived
He tuckered in,
Growling and chomping
With his toothy grin.
Ah, there’s nothing like
Having a phone,
When I’m feeling peckish
I dial a bone.
it
fast in
scary cat
quite huge scary
big, prompt, fat
ever so hungry
ever so hungry
big, gray, dull
big, empty, true
extremely hungry
big, gray, dull
big, dull, large
alarming, resurgent, fat
scary flips stalk, weirdly
scary foliage stalk, weirdly
scary leaves stalking, weirdly
shivery flips stalking, weirdly
alarming, esurient, prompt, dull
its shivery riffs stalk, weirdly
its shivery flicks stalk, weirdly
ravenous, intermediate, shuddery
alarming, ravenous, intermediate
alarming, resurgent, prompt, dull
scary foliage stalking, weirdly
famished beard eating, insanely
scary foliage following, weirdly
shudders foliage stalk, weirdly
scary flicks following, weirdly
scary folios following, weirdly
alarming, big, esurient, prompt
shivery leaves, resurgent whiskers, alarming dog
shuddery foliage, athirst face fungus, alarming seat
quite scary scary flips, peckish whiskers, alarming tag
hungry! scary leaves, famished whiskers, creepy can
scary so scary
so creepy so very much
cat eats the mouse
high priority insecurity
gastro-growling,
a peckish fling
in the food desert -
not dessert - desert
this lip service
don't a mouth fill
maybe one of five
on the sleigh's edge
gazing at the growling wolf
of slowly going down,
ground down into an
early grave ground
raw capitalism just
too hard to digest
so fasting though
good for the soul
distracts from light
panging minds dreams
sweet in the night
next meal, the next meal
what's the big deal
you don't look distended
so stop the pretendin'
and gettin' over
on us, the satiated
shoulda waited for
a fulfilling meal
to steal and run
like Jean Valjean
with loaf in hand
fleein' Javert's pursuit
ravenous for justice
but whose?, just us?
or can anybody sit down,
come around and partake
the scraps for hunger's slake
disability by definition
means "not able", not "unwilling"
but we all know some are
"getting over" 'n'
workin' the system
'steada workin' a wage
but "working poor" still,
for sure, is workin' for
a livin', not freeloadin'
on government or society
and still are "not able"
to make it, so who's
fault is that I wonder?
while sittin' here eatin'
this cookie, trying to write
a wrong, or corrected,
feed some facts, for
the peace of mind
we all know and find,
when fed, cared, and loved
care for a bite of apathy?
© Goode Guy 2013-03-31
http://inplainsight.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/03/12/17283055-5-questions-for-top-chef-judge-tom-colicchio-on-hunger-in-america?lite
http://dinersjournal.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/03/01/film-on-childhood-hunger-opens/
http://www.worldhunger.org/articles/Learn/us_hunger_facts.htm
http://turkeyclubamerica.com/
http://feedingamerica.org/
http://www.nokidhungry.org/
http://www.foodbankonline.org/
https://www.hungerinamerica2014.org/SitePages/Home.aspx