Best Rationed Poems

I tell you I like, that Wayland a bunch
He'd be the guy, to be there in a crunch
Not afraid of humor, he paves the way
With clerihew words, he loves to play

Let's talk of Eileen, the Queen of passion
Her verses of pleasure, will not be rationed
She...

Continue reading...

On the banks of the mighty Skagit,
where the rushing waters flow,
sat a fisherman of merit,
the one known as Farmer Joe.
Long he sat there, long he fished there,
always waiting for the day
he would catch a mighty salmon
and it wouldn't get away.
He had lived upon the prairies
where...

Continue reading...

Just as everyone before her,
she walked through this life alone,
leaving footprints we can follow
as we struggle on our own.

She, woman of many talents
rationed what she let us see.
Wit and wisdom she exuded
in her unique poetry.

There are others who have judged her
as she played another role.
But...

Continue reading...

The doc says I need a vacation
My energy just can't be rationed
Seems there's been some depletion
  leading to get-up-and-go secretion

He told me to take a few weeks
Get rid of those brain-draining leaks
Stop pushing myself so darn hard
  to become a real-life bard

So, as...

Continue reading...

>I do love food.

When I was young, food was rationed.
So much of this, or that, you were allowed.
Each person had a ration book for adults and a child.
So much butter so much sugar, a few ounces of meat.
If you grew your own produce, fresh veg...

Continue reading...

There comes a time,
in the early, but
not so early, morn

when, and this is key,
if a portion of an instant
rationed a morsel of a moment -
but a crumb of that fell free
and it cast a deep shadow
whose depths made mockeries 
of spelunk;

which you may remember 
you'd...

Continue reading...

Those yanks in their tanks never got many thanks 
The locals moaned, ‘they’re over here’ *
We Brits had the ration, those yanks sought out passion 
With cigarettes, chocolate and beer

Girls couldn't rely on a whiff of a nylon
So legs got the tea or the gravy...

Continue reading...

Behind A Brothers Bond


Always there amidst your decussate despair, behind the wall of sleep
A heart to share with your ensuant err, comforting your wall of weep
A simple soul to make you healthy whole, a brother in my heart I keep
In their goal with a rationed...

Continue reading...

(A Blank Verse Sonnet)

Each author takes a turn to read heart prints
while others contemplate the words to wit:
Will this dispatch appeal to all, or none?
We search to bring unique pathos to life,
to pull the reader's thoughts within our own
and form a link to flame a...

Continue reading...

Put on word welfare by the poet gods
They've rationed my "Inspired Insanity"
No one could ever calculate the odds
This blatant act of inhumanity

No longer can I find words to describe
Blue eyes that generate a winning smile
Condemned, left with my profane diatribe
And sentenced as a poet with...

Continue reading...

this man tries hard
      with word to weave
         his loves clear worn
   plain ‘pon his sleeve

      not meant as gripes
     ...

Continue reading...

Can you care to much 
Love to strong
Give away your soul
Problems help her to resolve
Who knows a woman’s mind
I walked that extra mile
To watch her drop my heart
Is it too much to adore
Should caring be rationed
Love measured out
Who knows a woman’s mind
When is the time...

Continue reading...

Set some goals
Set out bulbs
Bulbs planted in garden
Bulbs planted in beds
Beds filled with blooms
Beds are warm
Warm days bring flowers
Warm beds rest
Rest equals health
Rest for weary
Weary souls faint
Weary hearts mourn
Mourn love lost
Mourn departed
Departed is gloom
Departed is pressure
Pressure creates diamonds
Pressure can explode
Explode from anger
Explode from dynamite
Dynamite dangerous
Dynamite...

Continue reading...

"Who Put Luebella down the Wych Elm?"

There are rumours
about me, some 
come seeking me
with their geiger counters
and ouji boards
with their heart 
shaped planchettes

unanswered questions
in the woods, crackling
within the sounds of leaves
invisible dead things speaking 
underfoot white noise
boxes that ghosts 
are meant to genuinely
speak through 

radio...

Continue reading...

It was the year of Nineteen Forty One
when I was a young, new bride,
there was a sneak attack upon our ships
and so many good men died.

Our president announced we were at war
and we knew lives would be changed.
How dare they attack the USA?
Are their leaders...

Continue reading...