Best Sack Poems
You’ve got to have a certain knack
when opening your Silly Sack;
the beasts within will soon attack
with no hold barred, no turning back.
Now these are not the monstrous sort,
it’s just that they do not comport.
Of mischief, they are never short,
treat mayhem like it is a sport.
Prepare for giggles, snorts, and laughs,
guffaw at awkward giraffe gaffes,
where pigs with dirt soap take mud baths,
where self-signed cars give autographs.
Juno the dog is in there too;
you know what she likes best to do.
She’ll give horse rides, and when we’re through,
we’ll see our parents at the zoo!
So loose the drawstring, open wide;
heck, you might even jump inside!
A Silly Sack’s the place to hide -
with imagination as your guide!
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I wrote this as quatrains first, then remembered the contest and wrote it as limericks - frankly, I like the quatrains better...
A combination of Haiku and Kyoka
designer originals
from feed sacks
after the chickens were fed
her artist's touch
honed with the aid
of her foot movement
on the treadle machine
There's jolly old fellow named Jack
Nightly he comes, sack on his back
He did hide it from us
Now it's out it's because
He laughed so hard that CPAP did crack!
Hey Jack, sorry I'm always late for the party, it's tax season, got pretty busy, but couldn't resist being silly, cause it's what you fancy! The above is the lim, the promised one from KIM. From the land of thousand isles, hope you get all the smiles!
11 March 2015
10:00 AM
Philippine Time
Jumping Jim just loved his sack,
Two feet in he'd jump up and back,
He went in sack races every time
He and his sack had a chance to shine,
Just a shame it's not an event on the track.
Play violin,Play Solitude
Play the note of broken voices
Eternal eclipse of my soul
Why am i still hoping?
Last night held a dream
the colour of a sunrise
the fragrance of a jasmine
and the beauty of a child
Another year awaits
cold snowflakes in my porch
the fluttering wings of
red breasted cardinals
by the window-pane
lit candles on a tree
and carols in the street
Another year i walk barefoot
to the Cathedral
Another year i kneel
Without my faith in God
Another year i return home
to a silent cradle
to a wooden rocking chair
which makes no creeking sound
Another December
blooms with red hollies everywhere
But not here
Here between the still digits
of the clock
all there is are petals
of withering chrysanteniums
Here,Santa never visits
and Halloween never ends.
I waited For Santa, I stayed up all night
I then saw the fat man, no undies in sight.
A bag he had hanging, t’was big red and bright
Ah yes I saw Santa, he swings left to right .
The corpulent postman from local town,
looked perfect wearing his red Santa gown,
but when he shouted loudly ho ho ho!
his belt snapped, and pants dropped low to his toe!
1st placement
A funny Christmas themed 4 liner contest
Tania Kitchin sponsored
10 syllables each line
written 06/01/2022
On a raft in the river tied to a tree, lived in an old woman of whom most folks made fun. She didn't talk much, most thought she was dumb. Kids being curious, and the summer being hot, the cool of the river drew our disobedient lot. We kids soon discovered the crude raft and the tent. We oddly made friends with its strange occupant. Tried as we might to find out her name. All we got was a smile from the toothless old dame. One thing for certain we kids soon found out. Social graces she lacked, but her kindness made up for that fact. Times being tough and money being tight, often we kids confided our plight. She didn't care if we were dirty or poor. She loved her little friends all the more. We didn't mind her fashion was lack. She wore a dress made from and old "tater sack." What troubled us was she didn't have a name. We didn't care from where she came. One day as we sat on the bank, a thought came to mind. We were disgusted with folks being unkind. "Everybody's got a name," said one. "Let's call her 'Tater Sack Annie'", said another, so it was done. Annie smiled at us. She liked her new name. She didn't say much, just smiled again. She motioned for us kids to her camp for lunch. She always fed our whole bunch. Fried taters, catfish and greens. All of us believed she was a woman of means. Several summers went by. One year the fall came. A saturday night, folks out for a lark. Didn't see Annie walking home in the dark. Somebody sent, and a somber Sherriff came, "Anybody her know her name?" He spoke to the group. Two boys stepped forward, both knelt to a stoop. "That's our 'Tater Sack Annie'", they spoke in a low tone. Both their faces ashen and as white as bone. Today in a churchyard no monument gleams. Only a simple stone reads, "Annie a lady of means."
Written by my grandmother Sandra Burch
A gift of survival bag with goods and food
Thanks to the God you offered to my hand
In the competitive queue I came forward
I was registered, when the name is called
Nobody knows but somebody knows
That all are poor and world in refugees
Mixed colors and different tongues are noised
While all are paying attention to each of names
Men women indifferent and some with kids
Hope of interests is something hidden smiles
Trying to overtake before the time comes
But the frame of church flexible rule shows
With my bag and my friend I came out
He reminded me that I did not find out
Variety of food we carefully sorted out
Expiry dates elapsed and I was going out
In a day or two, if I will not finish
Nothing will happen I know its truth
I ate for the day as much as fresh
Thank to the God that it is the truth
While ships of foods are being destroyed into the sea
Uncountable lives suffer and die no meal for a day
No one knows one side of the world of sea
Sinking soul of humanity dwindles every day
What the God can do, the God does as much as
Changes the time and diverts the way he wishes
Until the products are passed away in markets
It’s out of the rule and ethics no power for Gods
I felt a self pity when my belly was full out
Thank to the god of justice shows out
Nausea for one is a hunger for the other
Balance of bridge is the survival of mother
Udaya R. Tennakoon
Alarm
Bursts calm
Day dawns
Loud yawns
Blow nose
Stretch toes
Quick wash
Splish splosh
Grab vest
Get dressed
Gulp tea
Then flee
I'm late
Stressed state
The boss
Is cross
Harsh fact;
I'm sacked
Next day
Hooray
Lie in
Big grin!
27.09.22
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Your Favourite Rhyming Poem From The Second Half Of 2022 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
In the annals of Rome the least glorious
was an emperor named Honorius.
Though Rome's plight was alarming
he spent his time chicken farming,
a pursuit which made him notorious.
winters foliage
blankets trees and grassy knolls
hibernation time
Why must you boudoir bring me an empty bag full of fake?
Pinocchio emotions: wooden soul mannequin real
Your impulses beat a synthetic heart mood —
artificial aorta stimulation ~ false erotic excitation
Making it so hard to pump up contrived passion,
when I’m getting so many tissue soft, milquetoast excuses
as to why you’re always missing in merge action
I don’t believe your tears of contrition are real ...
see, here’s the deal —
Me tasting no substitute was the attraction thrill
Once you got the plastic access,
enabling for an instant gratty hi-rise, material elevation
A funky vibe got dropped on the Cloud 9 date vine,
and the alternate current rain paraded imposter elation
Counterfeit love declaration bell bottom dings
started ear chiming with the sultry pleasuring
Bottom line sensations, gong bosom calculating
You’re accrued credit to the lass canine race,
cardio dressed in Marie Antoinette violet lace
Guillotine guilt was disembodied false grace,
repentant wet blush stroked an invisible trace
Ugly thoughts painted on a pretty angelic face ...
clipped wings: be a forged halo prize for haste
So sorry that a makeup do-over couldn’t take place
I found out you had a synthetic stack of sorrows
stashed for a rental getaway rainy day
Victoria building up the secret portfolio courage,
befo’ you go centipede creeping astray
Your skyscraper acquisition desires
wasn’t nothing but a disengaged, EKG rocket boost
A surgical science project
of a failed bypass carjack
Blunt scalpel carotid cut the angle criminally obtuse
But you got caught in the act ...
Trying to steal someone else’s family jewels
just ain’t chastity cool
So sugar, you can keep your recycled sack of sorrows,
it’s alright, baby ... do believe me
Please accept my handwritten,
parting dear Joan message
lip inked urgently
But, it was tardy delivered
with the utmost synthetic sincerity
The tale of Sad Sack Sammy,
So the story goes.
A walking, talking, whiner,
Suffering his woes.
He never ever smiled,
Had nothing good to say.
He whimpered like a sissy,
All the livelong day.
His mood would always swing,
At home or when at school.
Sometimes melancholy,
Then complaining like a fool.
A lousy, luckless, loner,
Grew up without a friend.
No one could stand his presence,
'Cause he ranted till the end.
His fate would change at Fifty,
This local resident.
He chose a different path,
And ran for President.
Now everyone that knew him,
Was caught up on the blind side.
When all the votes were counted,
He won it by a landslide.
Me bum is flat coz as a graphic designer I sat
Crushed it, didn't allow for expansion, it's a fact
Guess it's not a bad thing
No need to put it in a sling
Or walk around wearing a flour sack!