Best Pie In The Sky Poems
guided streams of bright lights few squeeze through a crystal tight sky
colours this nature scene brand new a freshly baked pumpkin spiced pie
a random popsicle purple glaze
a toddler's finger painted blaze
the friendliest of all the river trees
dances calmly with a random breeze
the sun dives into his liquid bronze fate
as the wild plants wave back to placate
daily harmony here come with ease
while humans struggle just to appease
So sublime my dream that I want to scream,
for a guy who is a sweet offbeat character;
he is kind, gentle and helps where he can,
this sort of wonderful man appeals to me !
I wish that I could be his forever girl friend,
with love to transcend that grows over time.
God's Pie in the Sky
Pie tasted so yummy and wouldn't you know
Second piece too I really, surely loved so
And the more of the pie that I did eat
I found out last piece had grown four feet.
Last piece walked away through my door
And it could never be found any more
So my lovely wife and I both together
Decided that we would bake another.
This was even better than the first one
And I ate it all and when I was done
A cavity did appear on one tooth;
I wasn't happy because this was uncouth.
I again never did eat another piece
And as days of my life started to increase
I did die and went to heaven one day
To see God and His pies He had on display.
His was surely much better than mine;
Now in heaven every time when I dine
I ask for God's great pie in the sky;
And "YOUR WELCOME" always is His reply.
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I saw a pie in the sky
This year when the air was dry
I called my wife to dance
Matter of elegance
But she smiled a little-shy
The full moon shines very bright,
When full it give off a pretty lite.
Is it made of cheese,
I want some with crackers please.
If only I could get a big bite.
BY AND BY PIE IN THE SKY
recollections are yet to be stilled
post obstacle Utopia is unfulfilled
faithful we jump, attempt to forget
expecting to coast into safety nets
in another time or a different place
we continue to misuse our mistakes
endeavouring to dance star tracks
we cannot let go, unleash or relax
forgive and forget the ultimate test
not trust or invest in outcomes quest
by and by the moon always outshines
pie in the sky power to impress aligns
concluding, deaths drummer begins to drum
perceiving we finally see dreams direct sum
© Kim van Breda—March 2014
When the veracity is really sparse,
the world affairs are left on the backburner.
Pitting a status dog against an orange poodle
(the latter dropped his noodle a long time ago)
there is no honour in winning the debate
in this farce we rate a mere pie-in-the-sky.
Democrats like Damocles Sword's imminent jeopardized positions of power hail her rise,
Decades of teamsters support, NO, Harris-Demos few endorsed her in the public's eyes,
Democrats today are like the Dixiecrats of Dewey's days are playing old-school, sex-race cards,
Repubs set in their ways, and Demos are bendable like what's his face got her on second base, charades.
He needed to win, expendable, same cards played, sex-(win over for the women voters) it is a given for the race.
D for Demos who are Distancing from Drunkards--her hidden card takes centerstage--loses face.
First line expounded of my original Pie-in-the-sky, and
the rest was a shot in the dark, played with dance cards.
*She can seek help if she don't slur her words on camera that she is,
being tailed., f0x learned from Di' lawsuit--pass the buck.
Repubs are no angels in this with Trumy-Dumpy on a ticket and not a wall, the third possible gallops in time with withdrawals TBA.
Three Great-Granddaughters
Shared my Eighty-Fifth Birthday-
Ages one to five-
Great-Greats will sprout later on-
Must never doubt I'll be there!
Six times I've looked death in the eye
Six times it has passed me by.
Yet friends much younger than I
Face it once and don't survive.
I now struggle with my faith.
Especially now, innocents murdered,
For what? religion? Why?
God protects the weak, the innocent.
What! All pie in the sky.
Saved from the sea three times,
Looked down barrel of many a gun,
And once a tank track crowbar whistled past my ear.
I prayed to God, I have asked why am I still here.
No answer yet and I've prayed for years.
All I do now is cry the proverbial river.
If God does not deliver then there is one who will,
Mother nature, and without malice.
Fastidious gildings must dot your mien:
Sizzling lips that ooze unbridled charm,
And a neck sleekest with angelic luster
To daze the eye and sun a smitten arm.
Still deeper graces beyond corporeal eye
Shall your gold’s stoutest bulwarks prove:
A mind pliable into another’s loftier ideal,
A heart malleable to wit’s forging groove.
A full stock of sly eccentricities to baulk
Pert overstepping darts round the clock;
And a placating vocular chime that tells
Time’s tick better than poor-piping bells.
A hope that dares azure's illest signs;
Turning gaffes into leaps onto higher
Insights purer than filtered science,
Dwarfing Fate and her fiendish fire.
And shall all these bejeweled traits
Sure lie within one maiden’s tastes,
And finally match the magic gleams
Of that fairy gal I see in my dreams?
You have heard of it many times I am sure.
and probably of it abjure.
I have been driven, striven,
to obtain my little slice,
please take my advice.
I have achieved my little chunk,
without behaving like a punk,
you I can readily you assure.
You can seize it,
if you don't need to throw a fit,
of self-serving s**t.
What you really need,
is plant a little seed,
and work very hard indeed.
Pie in the Sky
If the pie grew in proportion to the number waiting for a piece could there ever be enough?
If everyone who got a piece of the pie shared it would either be satisfied?
If the pie were distributed on the basis of need how many would still want it?
If a committee were formed to address the issue of the pie what would happen?
Would the committee arrange for a bigger pie?
Would the committee mandate a larger pie?
Would the committee institute an investigation into the quality of the pie and its inability to be sliced into sufficient pieces to satisfy all?
Would an independent “special” prosecutor be assigned to look into the origins of the pie’s insufficiencies?
If the committee did its job correctly the pie would be forgotten. The independent “special” prosecutor honored, and the committee praised for their diligence in managing the situation.
The unused ingredients (money, power and prestige) of the preceding problem (the pie) would be blended into (swallowed up by) a new recipe (new legislation) regarding the size, shape, production and distribution of any new pies.
A COMMITTEE will be appointed to oversee the process.
John G. Lawless
6/22/2021
pie in the sky
hope for a future
with you in it
can not let it
go no matter
how unrealistic
i know keeping
hope alive is
at this point a
total waste of
my time
Huge pie in the sky,
visiting her grandparents.
A lofty and crusty bake
from ages ago.
The chill cellar held jars.
Fruits were homegrown,
handpicked, canned.
Humongous, it was not
an average-sized pie.
The gigantic pie, at least
to a child that remembers,
was gorged on satisfying
fat-purple-blueberries.
I can only imagine a taste,
to take a bite out of
1950’s life. My tongue
red and blue, savoring.
My memory only holds
my Great-Grandma
in a corner chair
in her daughter’s home;
and a couple visits
to our home
with her sister.
At least I remember that,
but paint me purple,
or let me go closer,
for her granddaughter
made me rhubarb pie.
That’s my mama,
whose Great-Grands
will only mostly recollect
what I surrender
from the past.