Best Piebald Poems
On March fourteenth, the day of pi
I pined to buy an apple pie
A python spied me at the door,
a sharp-eyed pirate on the floor
Oh piebald pipe of piety
Do not aspire to piracy!
A spiny pain will occupy
My poor pylorus pining pie
Pied piper pyromaniac
Porkpie in hand, applies attack
A pyrite spark to light became
Papyrus lit and fanned the flame
The python backs, afraid of fire
The piker fears a funeral pyre
He'd be expired and unprepared
To cipher circles pi r squared
Our pineal glands made pie-eyed plans
And Pontius Pilate washed his hands
A pile of pilots can't deny
I occupied my day with pi
October 25, 2014
Rhymed iambic tetrameter
There are 35 "pi" sounds. Can you find them all?
Icicles on leaves and branches of trees
They begin to melt down bit by bit
Rays of sunlight appears, as winter cease
Freezing air fades, as glow of sun increase
Squirrels, rabbits run wild and free
Birds of various speed soaring high
Their mellifluous tweets, a melody
Piebald butterflies dancing merrily
Leafless, lifeless trees in healthy living
Colorful buds of daffodils, magnolias around
Their natural beauty, a wonder, stately astounding!
Rain falls, softening the earth as new shoots abounds!
Frozen grasses before, now stilled with energy light
Blossoms as well, humbled with new beginning
Seeds scattered rises as in springs
Snows gone, as sun's refulgence a revering bright
03/03.2014
2:19 am
Dappled Winds
Phantom gliders in the sky rise at day
To rush the firmament on dappled winds,
Heaven’s piebald appaloosas at play,
Brindled tempests ruffle zephyr’s fringes
On stippled flurries in mistral tinges -
Flecks of dirges – the haunting calls of loons –
Laugh with ecstasy at mosaic breeze,
Born from the mottled rainbow’s pure cocoon,
In a dappled dance of impish teases.
2-11-22
Contest: D Forms - Dizain
Sponsor: Constance La France
LONGING TO SEE YOU
I’ve climbed patiently this far
Over the heap of piebald years
To have even a twinkling glimpse
Of your acclaimed effulgent face
A flitting moment to me bestowed
Enough to send my spirit leaping
Among the daisies in the morning sun
When time are short for squirt of joy.
Hush o'er azure stone ridge,
hypnotic wax moon dash,
wispy crescent rustle from,
a piebald furry deer,
nocturnal stealth enshrouded,
silver tint antler scoops,
limp orange leaf detritus,
canopy of maroon ink,
black mist dewdrops spill,
corral Northern Bobwhite quest,
shuddersome elk teeters on,
bituminous coal summit,
cast a pearl oyster glance,
into an uncanny precipice,
enigmatic phenocryst ravines,
spellbound immersive trickle,
species of the dome shape,
muted in clandestine trot,
oe’r mushroom quandary in crossing,
to slink away the eerie stillness
(A Slant-rhyme Sonnet)
As autumn treads across our piebald patch,
she drops her frost to shelter, soft as wool,
but brilliant blossoms curl in moonlight watch
and shrink beneath the snap of hoarfrost cool.
Then every critter lodged inside the farm
begins to hide a hoard of winter chow,
use nature’s fabric fluff to cradle warm
and stash in cache beneath the muted show.
Persimmon limbs are bowed with orange loot
which deer desire if hunger leaves them poor.
The frost has signaled time as under foot
true sweetness swells at autumn’s open door.
I rush before the deer, with knife in hand
to read the seed as weather forecast wand.
All aboard the conductor roared
Gripping the puce spruced rolling caboose
At starboard some people snored
While shaking loose foul gastric juice
But to port was a snort
From a piebald plump pig doing a jig
Only to thwart a one legged dwarf
From kissing a prig with a long twisty wig
In the middle was a fiddle
At the bar a guitar
And little by little
A freight car cigar
Was smoked by a Pope
Who drank sixty short whiskeys
And licked soap on a rope
Got tipsy and frisky
Swooned in the saloon
With a woozy auld floozy
Playing a tune to the moon
That was groovy and bluesy
4 and 20 Pies – No Blackbirds
Oh, spare me the plethora of pies
the thumbs-up plumbs,
the pie in the sky dreams
of the pie lovers,
the onerous moooo
of the piebald cow
being milked
by the pie-eyed farmer
as his pied piper wife
lures the chickens
into a pot pie.
Pie charts to measure
children against nourishment,
who cuts, who chooses,
statistically
who wins, who loses,
“pies the type”
of apples on the floor.
It ain’t that simple, Simon
say the “pietist”
who fear
that if Pi can’t be squared
pies end is drawing near.
John G. Lawless
10/9/2014
submitted to – Sheri Fresonke Harper
Plentitude of Pies – Poetry Contest
she was a salamander of the sun
an enraptured reptile of the stars
dancing with the other campfire lizards
in the asphalt murrain
in the technomarshes
in the hookah parking lots
and mildewed shopping malls
on the internet
amongst the programmer punks
and hacker geeks
the tweeting tools
the facebook fools
sashaying through cyberspace
and in all the common places
where human hearts are liquid nitrogen
her belly is sparidged and maplemarvelous
the taut black knit tubetop
stretched acrylic over tantalum breasts
the cerise cutoffs born
broadbelted and blithely
clenching her pomegranate cheeks
piebald with sweet sweat
appaloosan with her own sweet waters
because a culture summer is coming
in
in Coddles Harbour and Port Hilford
in Manchester and Fox Island
a magnetic renaissance
coming in ike a lion
like a lizard loaded indigo
and heat desperate
and as he stood
and watched
"all states, all princes I."
and as she moved and sang he spoke
"Love.
There is no 'love'."
"It is true. It is true."
I cannot clutch the tongue
of bones commonwealth any more
nor catch any human kingdom here
any tenderness no longer
moats between us
it is occupied
shocked
by the ordinary
the commonplace
by the electrical
but
still
I am mad ensieged
with her
mixed verse
The Pied Piper was our town's private eye.
He rode alone on his piebald horse,
kept his nose in everyone’s pie
declaring humble pie of course.
Piety overrode his able grace
when last fall, he alit in some cow pies.
There he earned a pie in the face,
free gift from our local magpie.
translated from the Geek (below):
Altogether armed, a tricky young torchbearer
strode our streets on his multicolored mount -
Our intrusive inspector, had a flair for abuse,
abject apologies too numerous to count.
One autumn, alighting in a field, offensive odor
rivaled his religious reek. Wading a stream
he entered the dwelling of a loquacious goose
who gladly greeted him - à la charity cream.*
*charity cream refers to the practice of throwing pies in the face (whipped cream sometimes shaving cream) to support a favorite charity..
Of all the birds, both foul and fair,
You stubbornly refused to wear
Full mourning at the Crucifixion,
And were cursed with this affliction:
Piebald broods of raucous young,
The devil's laugh on every tongue.
A Shaggy Tale
By Jan Beaumont ©
My hairdresser - like me -
is still on lockdown
My image in the mirror's
made it crack
I'm thinking I should go
into the bedroom
Turn the lock and stay there
till she's back.
I look like some untidy
scruffy hobo
My unkempt mane has turned from
blonde to white
Its grown like garden weeds
In summer rainfall
I'm honestly
A most peculiar sight.
I used to be a natural
shade of auburn
Not ginger, but a rather
fetching red
But now the white
has started reappearing
And what I've got's
a 'piebald' look instead.
I guess I'll have to self apply
some colour
It seems the only thing
that I can do
I'll tuck the messy strands
behind my earlobes
And say a silent prayer
For Level Two.
On Level Four we can't
Go out to movies
No takeaways or cream cakes
From the caf
No shopping, and no visits
To our girlfriends,
This lockdown lark is well
And truly naff.
So Level Three should see us
slightly better
We're hoping that the weeks
will somehow fly
But Level Two's the one
I'm hanging out for
Its enough to make me
drink the cabinet dry.
My image now has gone from
bad to shocking
I think I'll have to put it
To the vote
I'm off to get the
biggest sharpest razor
But ... do I cut my hair
Or cut my throat?
This virus seems to be
A little weaker
I hope so - I can feel
It in my gut.
Let's hope we're down
from Three to Two real quickly
'Cos I'm desperate for
a dye job and a cut!
At his readiness, medley reduced to romance
Pure patched with strategy, pony Rosinanthe
Slick sleuth rotund from a thousand tutorials
Ideality frisked into quixotic filly deplorable
Avid lover Danton handles haggard hill driven
Hoof throb corruption chorales sin's provision
Ever after mantra mashed into lurid intervals
Putrid piebald frames racecourse, analytical
Etching on ranch entrance, ostler is cognizant
Required for pyxis stamina, rubies resplendent
Camofluer canters to sumer anonymous rural
Damsel plans her Danton's conclusion brutal
Mid August Triumphant Lament
Time to reckon
Time to stand
Stand back
Stand by
Bystanders
Bye bye America
America melting
American pie
Pie perfect
Piebald pony
Pony up
Pony Express
Express yourself
Express mail
Mail fraud
Mail-in vote
Vote USA
Vote going viral
Viral virus
Viral pandemic
Pandemic panic
Pandemic vaccination
Vaccination vexation
Vaccination nation
Nation notions
Nation divided
Divided by Party
Divide by color
Color me pink
Color me blind
Blind fate
Blind justice
Justice ACB
Justice supreme
Supreme Court
Supreme moment
Moment has come
Moment to ignite
Ignite the kindling
Ignite by lightning
Lightning strikes once
Lightning can’t strike twice
Twice too much
Twice ain’t right
Right to fright
Right on boys
Boys will be boys
Boys by stand
Stand …
Boys …