Best Seasoning Poems
crows collecting twigs
peppering the neighbourhood -
salt stained bird watcher
03/15/2019
Writing Challenge 2, March 2019 - Haiku - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart
Salting
s e a s o n' s
stew.
Written 15 July 2021
In Just A Few Words 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May.
Thousands of students of decades
Across the nation,
Have loads of issues with grades
And lack of motivation.
A retention to learning,
With parents calling
And graduation rates falling.
It's beginning to be so concerning,
That teachers even notice,
These kids aren't learning.
The propositions the school has given,
Halted the adults' beliefs they thought they knew.
School psychologist’s are anything but driven,
And their inadequate solutions are simply untrue.
The great idea has bestowed upon me,
And this hypothesis has been churning.
Without concern for the students I can see,
This will prove the best of your earning.
A new substance has reached the market,
That will prove me right.
LSD, Cocaine, and Meth will hit the target,
So cook with all your might.
Gracious children run freely in the halls
Now happy and cherishing all their liberty,
Can finally succeed and jump off the walls.
The teens will finally use all of their ability,
If you even have the balls.
Their improved grades are a certain probability
All until the last one falls.
Watermelon seed spitting, popsicle licking and locust humming songs;
Summer scenes etched in dark crevices.
Leave pile diving, pumpkin’s smiling, crackling fires with s’mores;
Falling breathlessly, covering mistakes and guilt.
Tongues catching snowflakes, sledding down slopes, hot chocolate parties;
Frozen heart kiss to melt fears and fallacies.
Tulips, May Day baskets, Barefoot puddle dances;
Spring cleaning cobwebs, dusting off today.
If keen a goldfinch knits, loops and entwines
through hawthorn, urgent instinct loosens free.
It's bright with flash that crimson blaze enshrines;
as summer scorches red, it could be me
when lying prone on beach or under tree,
in pensive mood when I gaze out to sea.
If darkened lakes with troubled waves reflect
a dying forest's lonely leafless tree;
when time is stretched with endless hours' neglect,
as late November breaks, it could be me
among the rushes singing sweet my plea
against the final sun and moons' decree.
If gathered swallows ghost in autumn's shade
and scissor night with scarlet skies that flee;
then darkling eves almost the stars invade.
Where shadows slowly dance, it might be me
that heads like ships to seek a sheltered quay
or sheep that search a fold across sharp scree.
if spring is warm, Earth breaks the winter’s fast,
exploding green reveals my heart at last.
"Urban sonnet" contest 20 April 2019
After seasoned hours in the kitchen
the cook hates to hear.."please pass the salt"
For the PASS contest....
We’re no strangers to perceptible sacrifice
so, we’ve put all flavors of fun on ice.
Einsteining overnight - alone - is
about as exciting as a windows phone.
But I’ve been-to-the-show as a pinckney,
and in my years of parental-stalking analyses
the juice is definitely worth the squeeze.
Soon holiday parties will be made gold
by candlelight and champagne cold.
We’ll decorate with reds and greens
and surrounding ourselves with tinseled things
we’ll sing songs of angels and newborn kings.
But not just yet, no, not now - now tis the *pre-seasoning* -
a time of unrest, stress and testing - and God help
you if they’re not impressed with your reasoning.
.
.
slang…
einsteining = studying for exams
been-to-the-show = seen things
pinckney = a child
the juice is worth the squeeze = the reward is worth the work
Sorry, but ...
I just don't understand at all,
Why people want to rush the fall?
Winter's coming, cold and rough,
And fall will be here ... soon enough.
The frozen dark is such a bummer,
Please - no early end to Summer ...
I, too, love Autumn, treat-or-trick,
But slow it down ... life goes too quick!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Contest 485 Any Theme Or None" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
A day meant for repose and renewal?
And planning ahead for the week to come
He sat with a barrel under his knees
Calm in demeanor with eyes at ease
He peeled potatoes in quantities of many
His hands must of felt crude and stingy
From the iodine reaching his cut callous hands
The aroma of sauteing onions rising in the kitchen
It was a chilly snowy day with the warmth of cooking in the air
Potatoes lined the cutting board
The racket of the large cutting knife was all I heard
So many shapes of difference
Some potatoes with eyes and knots
Some had none
My heart lumped with sheer anticipation
For all his work on the potatoes soup and it’s preparation
Oh, all the hours of my sensors in endless ample delight
As my tongue waited patiently for the night
Thank God for Sundays and a day of rest
But at least for me
Until his is done and then I’ll have to clean up the mess
back at the Arab Spring
and now a Wall Street Fall
citizens of foundering faith
just wanna change it all
believing in a higher purpose
is passing the way of the horse
power to too few, or many, versus
the prospect of anarchy, of course
can an untouchable or a herder
share with a CEO or Senator
can a cashier and a shop helper
turn from a debtor to a creditor
can people be allowed a chance
to live small lives in big places
without losing the race in advance
beaten and broken, hopes displaced
i mean, we all need to eat to live
the emaciated and the obese, both
there's enough Mother Earth to give
every human some economic growth
but economic growth must be balanced
with growth of spirits' understanding
lest our hearts' remorse need be penanced
for greed blinded with misunderstanding
if i want to break that monied broker,
one of the few to own the power
am i any better a worthy life-maker
than him within his baubled bower
civility begins with our forgiveness
of others, and harder, of ourselves
for the deep greed and covetiveness
that all carry within their cells
summer was hot and so too our passions
lest we suffer the winter of our discontent
let's follow our better desires with actions
to say what we mean, then live our intent
with some sage wisdom and a bit of thyme
we might be able to curry some favor
twixt one 'n' other's condiments sublime
'n' cook up a society we can equally savor
© Goode Guy 2011-10-03
Sugar brown, paprika dark,
salt, coarse, garlic spark.
Cayenne’s portion in our club?
Spicy heat is best,
dicey for our guest.
Aye, there’s the
rub!
—————
For the Whats Cooking on the Grill This Summer? Poetry Contest
Sponsored by M. L. Kiser
Written on 06/03/2022
Lyricvixen's Louisiana Boneless Fried Chicken
Lyricvixen's Louisiana Boneless Fried Chicken
1.) 4 - 6 medium small = raw boneless chicken strips
2.) 1/2 cup = flour (used self-rising or any)
3.) 1/4 cup = Louisiana Seasoning, crispy fish fry (or the hot one)
(small bowl)
A.) cooking oil - I don't us a lot - to taste
B.) Pan or skillet
C.) Medium heat (used #2 - in the summer)
D.) each side of chicken 5-7 min.
- Need more -
Just repeat recipe
till you get more
of what your belly needs!
2017
Copyright © verlecia fields | Year Posted 2017
Recipe note: Great Value all natural chicken tenders2 years ago family • humor • recipe • chicken • louisiana • seasoning
Now Summer slumbers
As Fall takes her rightful place
And Winter awakes
Soft as gossamer, dew fresh, new,
Primrose painted with life anew,
Regeneration breathes in the earth,
Indications of nature's new birth,
Nascent and fragile, burgeoning life,
Glows and grows like a pregnant wife.
Sultry and sated, feted and frazzled,
Under blue sky the parched earth dazzled,
Midsummer madness and trips to the sea,
Melancholy moments and Devon cream tea,
Evenings of torpor, humid and hot,
Radiant sunsets in foreign hot spot.
As the crow follows the plough,
Umber meadows are fallow now,
Time slows down to Autumn's clock
Upland shepherds move their flock
Mist covered mornings and mellow light
Northern birds prepare for flight
White with frost on crystalline trees,
Ice cold winds enshroud and freeze,
Nature sleeps as the Winter bites,
Tedious days and long, dark nights,
Elemental for nature's cycle,
Rapturous, redolent, raucous, vital.
Woke a clock, watch it drop,
Gave the floor, a purpose for,
Day to gaze, greenery phase,
Sunshine raise, bloomed sprays,
Lapped route through a calm beach,
Sun nigh zenith's grasp for breach,
I bunched up withered leaves,
Facial pleasures that it achieves,
Cast against the candles glow,
Snaps a full day's engaging show,
Journeyed me towards my keep,
Bird to unfold, wake whilst asleep,
Life's richness made me compliant,
Mastered four seasons, triumphant.
2019 September 20