Best Saltine Poems


Not In My Cupboard

Saltine
Ultra tasty
Soylent yellow, maybe?
Courage needed when consuming
Cracker

© 2014 CM Davidson

Premium Member Who's In My Cracker Box

Who's in my cracker box? 
I found a saltine in here...
And it's ready, for a bowl of hot soup..
Would you like to jump in, and join me? 
I'm ready to crack up, and laugh real hard.
Too much salt floating around in here..
Gotta go..

Who's in my cracker box? 

Cracker Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2003,2015..ALL rights reserved..

The Babysitter

The Babysitter

Little Patti Mouse
Use to come into my house
And Mom and Dad would leave
And Patti would be mean.

She was the babysitter.
We couldn't do a thing.
We couldn't get a drink
Or go out on the swings.

We had to eat our supper
And nothing after that.
“But Mommy let's us have a treat.”
“Get your jammies on you brat.”

We didn't like Fat Patti
As a mouse she was a rat.
She gave us only one saltine
That had to be our snack.

We looked round at each other
Five sister and two brothers.
“We have to nip this in the bud”
Should we tell our Mother?

Instead the little seven mice
went sneaking to the door.
“ Here kitty kitty, kitty kitty,
Come play upon the floor.”

“Miss Fatti Patti, Miss Fatti Patti!”
Storming to the door...
“You little brats what are you doing?”
Fatti Patti was no more...


Dastardly Crumbs, March 3, 2017 Cassidy's Poetry

I can feel the seemingly invisible shards creeping along my skin,  cutting me like glass. 
The presence of these creatures alone swallows me whole and leaves me restless. 
I promised you and myself that i wouldn’t open the doors to allow them in again, 
But here we lay unsettled, in the shadows of the broken and the fragmented that were left behind. 
I’m sorry that I ate saltine crackers in bed again.
© Ema Kenyon  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Midsummer Dip

I savor sunshine - its voracious heat
as I drizzle sweet lemonade
on my dehydrated tongue.

I dip my toes into the fondant
of lemon afternoon. You’ll find me
wading in the aquamarine swoon.

My coral-colored swimsuit, one piece
tease of a midsummer’s sea;
saltine-salvation with a tangerine squeeze.

Chartreuse eyes, like a key lime pie,
Ray-Ban protected ~ *
dessert winks at her sublime prize.

Quite crimson, I become, forgetting
to reapply sunscreen, with a rub-a-dub-dub,**
as I sunbathe near my ocean tub.

Clueless after hours on the beach,
my love dives into his watermelon treat,
a breach of spousal ethics to my cause.

With a pouty lip and grifting-tears, I con
his palm to soak me down with aloe vera,
and grant me two-fisted cocktail sips.

The saffron sun dips on the zephyr’d beach.
A welcoming arm rounds my shoulders ~
lavender and lilac speech of twilight.

4/9/2021
Contest: Changing Colors
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Required words are highlighted in bold letters
Internal/End Rhymes
24 lines

Ray-Ban — brand of sunglasses
Rub-a-dub-dub — nursery rhyme

Mom's Homemade Fried Chicken

Mom's Homemade Fried Chicken

Mom's Homemade Fried Chicken
Dipped in egg, rolled in crushed Premium saltine crackers, 
hot grease popping around chicken legs...Salivating...


Premium Member Chiccory Coffee

C_Coffee with chiccory her tasty delight
H_Happy was she with saltine crackers buttered
I_Intellect above with which she was gifted
C_Character was hers, caring for others with might
C_Cancer took her good life as takes those polite
O_Opportunity she gave many others
R_Right she always did because of great light
Y_Yes with Jesus now in His great light alright

C_Chiccory coffee Louisana was her brand
O_Opened doors for me to see different view
F_For she was kind, gentle, loving, refined soul
F_Family she loved gave to them friendship grand
E_Entered Kingdom for she trusted, love her goal
E_Eternal life for loving people whole


Contest;"The Sonnet Man's Acrostic Challenge
Sponsor:Dakarai Cobb

(Chiccory__is an alternative spelling of the 
word Chicory..It is acceptable. This is about
my favorite Aunt.)

The Fishermen

black may turn to gray but gray
   may not turn to yellow,

  night may turn to day, but 
  still these clouds hang around.
  
    saltine driftwood and enameled seashells  
    fracture against the course palm. 

     all those biblical sea foam literate sons wandering 
     throgh the fog.

      the unreverenced staggering pulpit's 
      half diligent, half hungover. 
    
     early in the morning they return to 
   the docks the prodigal sons of galilee.

    to curse at their sober seagull halos,
    maybe find a wooden plank for
    a familiar face.

  they are fishermen and they have
  never been so holy.
 
 beautiful as halogen lamps in the 
 corners of dark still rooms.

 wearing their bright yellow rain coats,
  they bristle gather a nets worth of 
  stories to tale later at the pub.

Thirteen Syllables Or Less

Once glowing..
now tears
of saltine.

 


D.C. 03/30/16
© D. C.  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sorry, Barbara Bush

Saltine crackers have become my worst enemy
Add that to my rapidly-growing list of “do-not-eats”
Along with many common foods I considered treats
Salt, sugar, and fats, in general, are my archenemy.

Sorry, Barbara Bush,* you did not heed good advice
And lived it up with salty carbs and unsaturated fat,
Because you let your doctor’s warnings fall flat
In your final days, you paid the ultimate price.

The symptoms are clear and very easy to discern
Swollen ankles, fatigue, and difficulty breathing
You suffer a general malaise which is not so pleasing
Taking Lasiks intravenously is something you learn.

I will miss, most of all, those tasty strips of bacon
Forever forbidden along with salty potato chips
No more adding salt to the food passing my lips
Adding restrictions to the handfuls of meds I’m takin’.

It is not so bad, after all, [I am training myself to think]
Following some simple directions about what I eat
I can still have vegetables and some delicious red meat
It is so much better than living life right up to the brink.

[*a nod to First Lady Barbara Bush, who died of
Congestive Heart Failure at the ripe old age of 92!]

Written June 1, 2021

Premium Member Writing With Weeping Words

WRITING WITH WEEPING WORDS

Lucinda runs through the forest,
runs past the barren fields, runs
past the lucid waterfall, runs
with her tears, leaving seeds of despair.

Roses with thorns grow most beautiful -
red, pink, yellow, white, as she grieves,
running, always running, with her paper
and pen. She’s fallen with her scissors
until she’s almost dead, snipping away

the times of her life spent with him. She
sees him flirting with her in the barn,
teasing with the hay, hiding until she giggles
then he grabs and kisses her, like he loves her.

Lucinda runs through the verdant grass
past the dandelion seeds, runs as a doe
frightened by the hunter’s arrows, runs
with her tears, scattering seeds of despair.

Dandelions pop up, sending sunshine through
the playful grass.  A young girl sits in their midst
fashioning a necklace while the bees buzz around her.

Lucinda pauses, squeezes out her paper, to begin again.
The emotional tide, floods the grass, weakening the weeds,
uprooting the girl, who sails to her home. Lucinda writes
with watercolor pencil, colors blend as she adds her tears.

Memories of a proposal, on bended knee, under a sturdy oak tree.
Later the same day, she would find her intended kissing a frog,
and she would taste the bitter warts. How long, she wondered,
had he played her? She continued to weep with her words,

as nature meted out a cure with its meticulous beauty and strength,
not a tear was wasted, but rather tasted, a saltine splash
savored until the knotty oak placed Lucinda’s palm inside
its favored diamond in the rough, a young buck who would love only once.

10/5/2017
Broken Wings’ It’s the end of the forms series

Lay Down Comedy

I’ve taught you well my young elder. The chosen path of the light was handed to you in a gift of sight as I gave you my eyes in a different life long before the land before time. Nothing exists except love and the energy it carries. In the giving of my gift you stole that energy from my soul and devoured it into a pale moonlight. Never dancing with everything that was what you’ve always wanted in one moment. I lost myself and I’m trapped in your purgatory. We cycled and I saw your pain long before you knew what your pain was helping you understand. You understood above me and guided your bleak melancholy fear and vicariously incepted my meditation of healing and light. If that’s what you wanted snd needed then I must let you go and extend my olive branch of peace elsewhere. Your paths were yours snd yours alone. I wisely chose for you. Dream sweetly my bitter saltine cracker. I’ll take a spoonful of peanut butter snd understand death. Your taxes will be denied one day. Not by me. But by you. Again snd again snd again. Reach for your heart as your mind splits in two and crouch over your shadow until you ignite the flame snd can pass your torch. I trust you. Challenging yourself is not a joke. Only to those who are women and comedy is a male gene.
© Jared Kent  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Daft Bites

Daft Bites
I used to suck on nickels and dimes
Ain't nothin wrong wit that it's fine
Metals tasted like saltine crackers
I just gag, throw up like a method actor

Ahh! the aroma, seems not formal
Swallowed a couple pennies many times
Sucking on straws and dimes
My way of unwinding my normal


10/30/17

entry for "Surreal and Daft Contest"
Sponsor: Kevin Shaw

Polly Jez


Polly Jez don’t ever ‘pologize
Curt cracker tongue
spit the hate cloudy issue high

Got black gunpowder love,
bullet hole
between the breast
And white tufts of tawdry deeds,
foolish follicles 
sprouting on the chest

P Jez Is a belle — 
princess Cain be a sweet talk squawker 
Crooked beak
who loves raising hell

Polly lips speaking so foul:
Sphincter hole pirate speech
be saltine cracker chip droppings 
from the backside of a cow

Polly Jez won’t ever crybaby ‘pologize
Murder She Wrote is inked in her eyes

With gestures of a whore,
pouty mood woos often be-fowl Jez
Wicked witch, evil does ... 
Giving smoking barrel corrupt counsel
is the cracker thing Polly puffs best

Polly want a cracker,
Jez want yours too
Mimicking tone of a greedy hacker ...
Stealing morally bankrupt souls 
is what pickpocket patch-eye
parrot flirties do

Listen here, carat cracker bird brains:
Don’t let a Polly Jez parrot
flirt-tease cage you

Premium Member Sucking On Straws

Sucking On Straws

I used to suck on  nickels and dimes;
Metals tasted like saltine crackers
Swallowed a couple pennies many of times;
I just gag throw up like a method actor;
And now breaking the law guilty;
Throat raw, cut, torn, filthy;
I have a fetish;
For putting thing's in my mouth, I guess;
I swallowed a dime;
I ate some raw onions, picked livered possum,
YUM!  so awesome
Teeth fell out, 
From chewing on iron pipes;
Filthy rhyme breakings so many nutrients laws. . .
By swallowing any and everything's, ...Sucking on straws

by James Edward Lee
1/10/18

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