Best Prepping Poems
Before the sun's pieces,
Shine on brim's, coffee mug;
And with my prepping airs—
It's all jeopardy to
Roll frost in bed somewhere.
Before the sun's pieces,
Rain in a golden chain.
I pine at streaked window.
How bitter is the fog
From where night morn dreams go.
Before the sun's pieces,
Ice below the outside,
In a bristling gesture—
God, now I see in you
Past my bleak reflections.
Before the sun's pieces,
While dawn is watched by moon,
Sun has the grace to gleam—
He'll come in the long fade,
For his Moon maiden, seen.
Categories:
prepping, deep, introspection, light, love,
Form:
Monchielle Stanza
Slipping into my silver-gray SUV
Nicknamed " Sly Buster Cruiser”
I speed off down the rocky, off-highway road.
Twisting and reeling like my wired mind,
windows down, sunroof open,
(Annie Lennox groveling on the CD player),
reckless noon rays on my chin,
wind on ticklish, naked nape ...
Damn, who cares? I am 19 again?
Shuffling into the 7-Eleven Store
beside the Shell gas station
(With a free wind shield clean-up),
I draw out some bucks for a Philip Morris pack
and a two bottles of beer, plus a Dorito
( the barbecue flavor , please)…
Ain’t a drinker; a smoker on occasion,
but I feel like being reckless and
slightly rebellious ;
I lock the door prepping up for an untamed ride.
Grabbing a spray of cologne mist
and red-violet lipstick from the tote,
my irises roll from the lane to the side mirror,
as I slowly dunk the beer, icy and bubbly
zooming away with hands laughing on the wheels.
Nobody knows me in this place; my ribs shout silently:
This is just all for me; just now, I’ll be.
This is just between me and the edge of a free road.
This is about my navel breathing fire and ice,
It’s about touching danger fast without reason or fuzz
Because later, all this smooth craziness will soon pass.
Back to the same home trail, I rip the cigarette sticks,
slide the unused bottle in my bag
before wiping the red on lips with the Dorito foil…
“ Mommy, Mommy… where have you been?”
I smile as if my skin had chased a tornado…
Dumping the beer on the back porch,
My hand is cleansed by some kind of holy water,
And I start to hug my mischievous girl...
Then off I start to roll the plates on the sinking sink.
`````` `````
Celebrating My Faves Contest
For Andrea Dietrich--Faved by Sponsor
Reposted 4/24/2016
Categories:
prepping, adventure,
Form:
Free verse
I feel I have appendicitis,
Or a bad case of bursitis,
And I think I need another tonsillectomy.
I'm sure I got a staph infection
From a tetanus injection
While I was prepping for a hemorrhoidectomy.
I've got cataracts and shingles,
When I cough my kidney jingles,
And my muscle tone's diminished due to entropy.
I have a lower disc displacement,
I need a knee and hip replacement,
And I'm scheduled for my umpteenth colonoscopy.
With my doctor's full compliance,
I will donate my corpse to science
To see if reasons can be found for all my maladies.
No doubt that when they disconnect me,
Vivisect me and inspect me,
They'll find a host of medical irregularities,
As well as hitherto unheard of abnormalities
That may account for part or all of my infirmities,
And might help to explain my PCP's enormous fees.
Author's note: After reading Ilene Bauer's delightfully insightful "A Certain Age", once again I delved into my archives and disinterred this bit of nonsense from 2017. I apologize, dear readers, if any of you who might be suffering from medical conditions find it insensitive. It is certainly not intended to be so. Although I don't think it's been scientifically tested or doctor recommended, I firmly believe in the homeopathically therapeutic value of humor and laughter. And I know that after writing this piece, I felt better about my own health issues.
Categories:
prepping, health, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Violence in the political party
A pebble thrown to defend oneself from a barrage of 100- stones
The bully then complains of abuse—might never makes right
will we unite?—I Am Anaya “All for one and one for all”
Bullied everyday was he, his peer would tell the news agent
He was different, a loner, weird, wore camouflage
And so, we tormented him
A lunch bench, a boy sequestered was “bullied every day”
Silent, defeated, sunken, he rarely spoke a word
Clean slate, passes a routine background check
A dietary aid prepping food in a nursing home
Nothing unusual nothing remarkable
Republican at heart for God knows what gave way, donates
to the loyal opposition a progressive bent
A bit addled and mixed up, can we see?
Unleashing his wrath a man filled with hurt with hate
In his own backyard, the tormented dons the guise of the tormentor
The assailed becomes the assailant
The unthinkable is done, perched upon a roof
four-hundred feet away just minutes into the oration
he aims then pulls the trigger
obscure and distressed Crooks alters history’s course
with a firearm at the ready as a duty and right
Father Crooks kept many, in a very pro-gun town
At the hands of a 20-year-old man who was
bullied by their own sons and daughters
Counselors, both father and mother
trained to help troubled minds, how ironic
Where were they as their son’s inner storm brewed?
A blind eye turned away what shame, what horror
Yet the world’s most salient story
Categories:
prepping, abuse, anti bullying, character,
Form:
Political Verse
cake & eat it
bored with the
relationship s/he’s in
but not wanting to leave
the positive aspects,
thinking s/he’s too old to
start again &
been there before anyway---
with a pattern s/he knows
all too well
looming just over the horizon,
s/he takes the plunge,
not looking before s/he leaps &
not wanting to think about
the significant other
who may be at home
wondering, waiting &
wanting to get to the bottom of
the change in
habits (all that are noticeable &
s/he thinks they aren’t),
the change in his/her look
(clearly prepping for somebody
else & the audience at home
ain’t buyin’ that its them),
the change in the craving for
attention from the one s/he lives
with &
of course, the list goes on---
s/he starts to look outside the
cell, refusing to leave on her/his
own,
desiring &
desiring &
burning up
inside with
sheer want, until
s/he comes across
someone that s/he cannot have,
someone who says s/he’s got to
choose between the stability of
boredom at home or
a new trip, entirely,
someone who reveals the obvious in
plain English---
“cannot have your cake & eat it
too.”
Categories:
prepping, life, change,
Form:
Free verse
EASTER DINNER
they liked the one behind me
the teal and black checkerboard
its sparkling tiles on the diagonal
red, yellow, blue, pink pillows
on sofas and chair
the sunrise was unsympathetic
like the cross, but the service
was cozy for Easter Sunday.
remember how it was raining yesterday?
they liked the one behind me
with framed women and palms
i’d have to look over my shoulder
see the eyes of the beholders
steadily for twelve hours plus
prepping the whole affair
can you smell the onions and peppers
the beginnings of love
they liked the one behind me
with the blue and pink sky,
red roses fanned out, ferns,
and modern art on display
stirred the flour, salt,
nearly a dozen eggs
and water, still needed
more water
they liked the one behind me
with the great picture window,
the surf and sail, red and white
striped shell, a book, and
a cocktail with straw
chicken - legs and breast
red and white wine
no deviled eggs - tossed
toadstool radishes
they liked the painting
it drew them in
i liked that they liked it
wonder if they saw
the red parakeet?
even the beach chairs are red
did they spy all the red things
obviously I’ve counted
most everything
that is behind my back
and in front of me
4/9/2023
Categories:
prepping, art, easter, food,
Form:
Ekphrasis
~ Papa ~
Dawn broke uneasy o'er damp, dreary lane
Fish markets open, the merchant a-bustle
Hawking his fresh catch to eke out a gain
Daily routine, one of stressed, ceaseless hustle
Perils of prepping each fish for display
Callouses, cuts and old scars that he'd hide
Leathery skin soaked in brine and dismay
Profits already had started to slide...
Meanwhile at home wife and children slept sound
Knowing that Papa was busy at work
Earning a living straight up, pound by pound
Back-breaking labor which he would not shirk
Papa Giovanni, a man oh-so-proud
His praises be sung in the fish market loud
August 15, 2020
Strand Completely New (#25) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
prepping, business, family, fish, pride,
Form:
Sonnet
We no longer move in normal ways
and all this because of Covid 19
I no longer watch the news these days
Each day I pray for a simple cure
but as the numbers climb I realize
prayer is the only way to procure
Time lapses and we are losing ground
wish I could see a miracle or two
perhaps it would help me feel sound
Guardian angels are prepping their wings
preparing for their journey on earth
if I cup my ear, I can hear them sing
Hope is the only thing worth a keeping
in this world of uncertain terms
we got each other so lets keep steeping
Soak in the Faith as if it were a straw
we are al so very vulnerable
and none of us are above the law
Life is a gift so we shouldn't assume
never take any one for granted
hold on to each other while in loom
Thank the stars above that our still here
and even if you are afraid
be brave, and never give in to fear.
April 16, 2021
Sponsor: Brother Jacob
Contest Name: Just stating the obvious
Categories:
prepping, life,
Form:
Rhyme
late Spring
refining
the sun,
zealous to
shine forth.
the flowers
prepping
for garden
party —
red hippy
roses,
marigolds,
soaring
hollyhocks,
Summer sprouts.
5/17/2019
Charliku New Form Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Charles Messina
Categories:
prepping, flower, garden, sun,
Form:
Verse
In prepping for a funeral
The family gathered in the hall
They sat there all mourning
Even though it was nightfall
He had eaten lots of vegetables
Yet, he passed on in his suite
Must have still had too much sugar
And not enough heart beets
A farmer by trade, he grew
Not just beets but onions too
When he passed, they cut his crops
And cried all the way through
They made his favorite cheese as well
A batch to honor him that day
His athlete niece, age nineteen, fell
Now there’s pro teen in the whey
Onions served at the will reading
One son got more than his share
“Yes, I see”, said the executor
I can smell it in the heir
“Woof” exclaimed his trusty dog
“This situation is certainly tough.
Although I’m sad about my human
These jokes were pretty ruff…..”
Categories:
prepping, dark, funny, silly,
Form:
Quatrain
I have always, so it seems been obsessed
I know it strange, tis most bizarre I guess.
With the phenomenon of gone awry
And signs and omens God puts in the sky.
And now, Erika in yon atlantic.
Calm resolve and prepping . No need panic.
Over " Bermuda triangle" ever THAT be.
What will you do , we see you in the sea.
Categories:
prepping, natural disasters, ocean, sea,
Form:
Name
Fall Sets To Turn
When timely Fall sets to turn
leaves hit the ground to burn
Epic radiant colors cascade down
forested floors see leafy gown
Winter's visitor did arrive
farmers feel jubiantly alive
Harvest in , time to rejoice
winter's precurser has voice
Sounds of birds taking flight
heading South day and night
Leaves carpet forest floors
Nature soon opens another door
Moonlight nights see it all
glowing as owls hoot the Fall
Native Americans wasted no time
prepping for another bad clime
Furry critters store more food
rushing all in the frantic mood
Living in a deep winters wrath
they pursue a surviving path
Fall retreats into winter sea
naked visits each pretty tree
Leaves wrapping their roots
Nights ring out owl's hoots
Silence cries the coming day
when winter will cast its sway
Snow may cover all in white
Fall has raced out of sight
Robert J. Lindley, 10-19-2014
note: My favorite time of the year Fall and it is an honor to
present now my 400th poem here as a tribute for its seasonal glory.
I am no big fan of winter at all.
Categories:
prepping, beautiful, change, growth, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Das Decrements Describe Digs ©
Grasping figurative literary straws
poetic theme yielded
farfetched aggregate
i.e., where each dwelling
listed as figurative Stormy bedmate,
this nada so eminent (Eminem fan)
lived since the year MM at:
1148 greentree lane,
724 railroad avenue, and
2 highland manor drive, which
defy obvious numerical pattern relationship,
albeit tougher than dismantling
an atomic bomb
Fermi (Enrico) to create
least common denominator
nonetheless, aye delineate
laughably limpid, loquaciously lumped,
and ludicrously as an Uber Lyft
(please lemme look foolish)
evincing desperate clamor
ring blather already
prepping myself for fallout after,
I post very tenuous
schema attempting to enumerate
loosely linkedin previous
to present physical addresses
straining credulity to formulate
formulaic relationship between
street numbered residential places,
futile endeavor mathematical
relationship to generate
readying myself (hatches
being battened down) against
first responder, who
doth dare to humiliate,
this self serving ingrate
gnome hatter hood
awkwardly entwine goofily integrate
ting (Spike Lee's
She's Gotta Have It)
"FAKE" self importance,
sans presenting schema
with literary Bo Jangles
flourishes, that (EGADS) doth jaculate
utter cheek to jowl (consonant
to vowel) outstanding
Uttar Pradesh Khanate,
nonetheless strives to
feign making Genghis
(alias Matthew Scott)
Harris heirs legitimate
if necessary calling on
Trump to mandate
and/or asking supreme
court to necessitate
putting sanctions against
quasi (moe toe)
POTUS oxymorons
so American totalitarianism
can freely operate
in tandem with
Putin to participate!
Categories:
prepping, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Each subsequent process of cell division
i.e. mitosis sans biological parlance
erodes chromosomal cap re: telomere if u can envision
some juncture senescence prevails –
apoptosis no chance to prevent natural degradation
and one alternate decision opting to bail out
subsequent etching chronological age –
averse at a glance to mortal male, who decries death breed’s frisson.
Thus disallowing healthy end of life discussion
once tutu shed rescinding plenti more figurative song and dance routines
final curtain call closes existence, where grim reaper jeers with derision
at attempts to thwart cessation of mortality,
whereby scientists seek to en-hance longevity –
even exhuming the dead (or thawing deceased
from suspended animation) and experimenting
with nonanesthetic induced incision.
To rewind expired meter fostering demise after staying alive –
with lance a lot chock full of chemical concoctions (hatched at round table)
to revive corpse as ultimate mission.
Yet, any effort to transcend genetic bulwark engendered
from bulge in pants (that initially unleashes biological reproduction
viz zit head via seminal swimmer in tandem with merging ova)
based on advantageous coupling favored position,
ought not be tampered with
lest havoc t’will rent asunder ranting rabid quest per final course
since egg versus chic hen ala kin collision.
Inscribed within DNA blueprint from extinct cousins of uncles and aunts
prepping monster to burst from Ray Kurzweil laboratory
whereby to halt recalcitrant son or daughter spanning cradle to grave
invariably yields zombie, spells monstrous FRUITION!
Categories:
prepping, age, birth, character, creation,
Form:
There's no reason for me to think
that the four seasons run wild and free.
There's a God out there, and He's in charge.
Sure, every season has a mind of its own,
and each knows exactly where she belongs.
Moreover, they feel right at home with all they do.
Each may inadvertently cross its boundaries, but all
things being equal, they are tolerant of each other.
My favorite season is Autumn, and she is somewhat
different than her sister Spring, who brings life but is
quite often late on arrival. Autumn tends to be softer
and brings a healing touch. And I think she's calmer
than both Summer and Winter.
Those two siblings can be a bit mean and overstay their
welcome. I think that Autumn is reliable and steady, and
most likely to live up to the expectations of others. She's
graceful and not likely to come with bells and whistles.
That's because she tones things down, not up.
Summer starts her demise, having sung her songs.
Winter is restless, but Autumn stares back and keeps her calm.
She then informs the trees, preparing them for color changes.
They won't tell you, but trees themselves sometime get bored
with green. They know that the colors in Autumn are much
more photogenic, and they can't wait.
Cameras are prepping, and the leaves on the trees are salivating,
because they know that they will be proudly staging before long.
Monarch butterflies, having enjoyed the summer, are presently
setting their compass south toward Mexico. No, birds are not headed
south just yet, but they are thinking about their long flight south.
081422PS
Categories:
prepping, august, autumn,
Form:
Personification