Best Snatch Up Poems
Rodents can be loquacious
That includes your average gerbil
They love to prattle, chat and blather
They really are quite verbal
Hamsters are talkative too
Just as garrulous as can be
With running mouth and wheel to match
They are a sight to see
But I am loath to squander words
Sparing usage is my way
I gather them like so many acorns
Against a rainy day
Yes, word collecting is the passion
Of this precocious squirrel
I garner adjectives, verbs and nouns
Be they singular or plural
The park is fecund land
There a plethora may be found
Vociferous, vehement and vex
I lately scooped up off the ground
The verb tree is prolific
Its discovery quite a boon
The other day it bestowed upon me
Flaunt, foster and festoon
All along the sidewalks
Concrete nouns lie strewn about
How blithely I did snatch up
A lummox, a laggard and a lout
To command a better view
I nimbly scampered up a pole
From this lofty perch I spotted
Wheedle, coax and cajole
Away in the distance
I spied a tempting pile
Heaped up for the taking were
Enticing, alluring and beguile
What do I with so much verbiage?
You would be fair to ask
Squirreling away so vast a lexicon
Must prove a mammoth task
The answer lies in my arboreal abode
Where these many words I stash
In alphabetical order they are arrayed
From zealous to abash
In a capricious mood one day
I grouped them by part of speech
Such a cacophony arose from clustering
Banter, badger and beseech
No matter how I sort them
The wasting of words I spurn
Reserved for rarest use I keep
Reticent, laconic and taciturn!
_________________________________
by Brian McClain - Feb 17, 2016
Originally posted Feb 17, 2016
Accidentally deleted Feb 22, 2016
Reposted Feb 22, 2016
*Been posting some heavy stuff lately. Time for a bit of levity.
"Hey babe, you're never gonna believe this. Crab fishing in Alaska has been cancelled for 2023."
"I don't understand, dear."
"Well, according to the paper, all the crabs have 'left the building.' It's crabs no mo."
"But where did they go?"
"Ahh, that's the mystery, indeed. Some are blaming sockeye salmon, whatever the flip that is. But I have my own theories."
"Sigh. here we go..."
"Yeah, I figure the little buggers finally figured out that not getting out of the way of the sweeping net is really sucky. Or maybe they all went on strike and decided that ending up on dinner plates was a crappy way to go. Then again, it's possible that alien visitors sampled the tasty crustaceans and transported the lot of them to their home world. Of course, the prevailing conspiracy theory has it that a certain former president with a craving for crab monopolized the fishing industry in Alaska and hoarded them all in ginormous freezers at his Florida resort. All I know is, I'm gonna miss our seafood Sundays. Shrimp and lobster just ain't the same without a complementary pound or two of crab legs. I really believe the end of the world is here."
"Poor, poor baby. By the way, seafood Sunday is on this weekend. I was able to snatch up a few dozen pounds before they all did the Elvis thing."
"Seriously? Kewl. Crab Armageddon will have to wait. Hey, have you noticed the price of beef lately? There goes my Saturday steaks on the grill. I've got some theories on the present crisis..."
"Yes, dear."
I have no pearls of wisdom for you,
you wouldn’t listen in any event,
I’ll give you no advice,
no beatings will be any good either,
it’s not the gift that you need.
You were there for the casting of the die
but you somehow think you’ll survive.
I won’t tell you how to snatch up
the light bright lies that you’ve missed,
and the countless truths to follow,
the realities that so awkwardly escaped us
are a gift that you won’t accept.
I’ve seen the witless blundering
and transgression to shame us both.
I have no sage words for you,
but I have a single round in the chamber,
so I’ll take you out behind the shed
and in the daylight that summoned me
I’ll gift us a gift far greater.
14th December 2018
That Bench
He goes there every day; to that bench in the shade;
Where his shoes have formed small clearings in the gravel;
where his wool sport coat has rubbed smooth the paint.
He goes there every day, to that bench in the shade
where the squirrels eat straight from his hand
as little birds frantically snatch up seeds he's sprinkled about.
He goes there every day, to that bench in the shade
but not today…and not again.
08/30/15
Submission for Contest: The Sense of Touch
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
When I asked my wife to marry me, ‘neath a golden moon,
I said I could not give her the moon and the stars, but,
“Each special day I will give you a piece of jewelry,” I said,
Then, jokingly, “When I am gone, you can wear your jewels
To the Caribbean and snatch up a younger, wealthy lover.”
I did not think I would survive her, being much older, so,
After she was gone, I opened her jewelry box and found
Her jewels—a lilac amethyst ring, a chartreuse citron pinkie,
An anniversary ring with a precious aquamarine, among others,
And, the coral necklace we found on the island of Barbados.
Born in July under the sign of Cancer, I had longed to find her
A ruby birthstone necklace, scarce and expensive as saffron.
On a road trip out west, we ran across an outlet jewelry store
Having a huge liquidation sale, and there, marked down, I found
Her a crimson ruby solitaire pendant as sparkling as could be.
We came home from Mexico with her oval watermelon pendant,
And a Mexican opal, lemon with a firing of iridescent tangerine,
Which she had carefully wrapped in a exquisite lavender cachet.
She had taken the money her father had given her before he passed
And purchased a beautiful pearl necklace--she wore it only once.
Written April 4, 2021
for "Changing Colors Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Emile Pinet
The awakening of the dawn like a butterfly busting through the cocoon.
The rhino's thyroid condition was exacerbated as the cheetah conflict
continued.
As I drank in and tasted the coolness of the water,
my eyes gazed upon the crocodile's welcoming smile,
the caption was split apart by the hyena's maniacal laughter,
As I breathed in the heinous adventure,
man what I would do for a cliff bar!
Billy Roberts from Germantown Pennsylvania, you are the planner of my trips
no longer.
I'm immersed in the baboon conflict much,
Cheetah's are too anxious and scared'
those crazy colored monkeys,
Always be constantly straight trippin,
I suppose its time to go snatch up a snow cone,
At least then i'll be heated up,
Suppose I'll meander down yonder over in the holler,
the Zoo will be closing soon,
Why is this peacock making a bead-line for me?
Get hence from me you beastly bird!
You Great White, who's sensed the blood in the water,
the kids are all laughing at me,
As I hang clumsily from this tree,
Screaming shrill and hoarsely for someone to come and save me,
I enmesh myself and become one with the tree,
Ya that's right devil-bird! walk away!
that's why they call me lizard lips,
I can hide from anything,
Wednesday will be my greatest day,
because it begins in W and ends in Y,
As I take in a deep relaxed breath and pinch my leg until my eyes begin to
adjust again,
The Bronx Zoo is no bueno,
Asta la Vista you toothy baboons
Form:
The game of love is not unique
We can play it many ways
So why not try some tongue and cheek
To set a love ablaze
I’ll start and give a big ole’ hug
Represented by an O
And place it center where it’s snug
In Lover’s Tic Tac Toe
You answer with a tender kiss
In the left-hand corner
Your luscious X will taste of bliss
Now the game is getting warmer
I’ll mark an O below your kiss
Soon my hugs may form a row
Wait, your next smooch has gone amiss
By not blocking me below
It’s time to snatch up victory
I’ll place an O for three hugs
But that lapse would end this story
Coz I’d lose without your love
I think we’ve learned how to play this
Timeless game of Tic Tac Toe
We both share a hug and a kiss
No matter where letters go
the Zany Zoo
The awakening of the dawn like a butterfly busting through the cocoon.
The rhino's thyroid condition was exacerbated as the cheetah conflict
continued.
As I drank in and tasted the coolness of the water,
my eyes gazed upon the crocodile's welcoming smile,
the caption was split apart by the hyena's maniacal laughter,
As I breathed in the heinous adventure,
man what I would do for a cliff bar!
Billy Roberts from Germantown Pennsylvania, you are the planner of my trips
no longer.
I'm immersed in the baboon conflict much,
Cheetah's are too anxious and scared'
those crazy colored monkeys,
Always be constantly straight trippin,
I suppose its time to go snatch up a snow cone,
At least then i'll be heated up,
Suppose I'll meander down yonder over in the holler,
the Zoo will be closing soon,
Why is this peacock making a bead-line for me?
Get hence from me you beastly bird!
You Great White, who's sensed the blood in the water,
the kids are all laughing at me,
As I hang clumsily from this tree,
Screaming shrill and hoarsely for someone to come and save me,
I enmesh myself and become one with the tree,
Ya that's right devil-bird! walk away!
that's why they call me lizard lips,
I can hide from anything,
Wednesday will be my greatest day,
because it begins in W and ends in Y,
As I take in a deep relaxed breath and pinch my leg until my eyes begin to
adjust again,
The Bronx Zoo is no bueno,
Asta la Vista you toothy baboons
The Vikings and Bills, two teams that
share a feat, four trips to the Super
Bowl all ending in defeat.
A feeling of such sadness, that's
hard to put in words, creating deep
emotions, that are violently stirred!
The hope is always next year, we'll
show them who we are, but history
has a way of repeating itself, that's
just the way so far!
You see this game we call football,
can eat you up inside, just on the
cusp of victory, snatch up from us
our pride!
Now we see the Bills have risen on
the scene. Powered by Josh
Allen, he's our everything!
The Bills have manned a team,
that may change this trend, the
Vikings not so much, their season
is at end.
There's a wind of change that's
coming! You can feel it in the air!
They are called the Minnesota
Vikings! Play against them if you
dare!!
There's a feeling in Buffalo, that
will be forever in our hearts. The
pain of four SuperBowl losses.
Can tear your heart apart!!
Oh Buffalo fans don't you worry,
there is a new kid in town.
His name is Josh Allen, the best
throwing arm around!!!!!
Josh Allen is the man, so strong and
so bold. He's leading this team, to it's
first SouperBowl!!
Much more than a man, he's almost
a Stallion, a rock solid team, led by
Sir Allen!
Both teams have great receivers,
in this NFL game. Diggs' and
Jefferson, will go down in,
The Football Hall Of Fame!
We will take the AFC East and much
much more. Now we knock off the
Patriots, to even up the score!
We turn to God with all our faith, to
bring us victory. That special day we
pray is coming, we'll have to wait
and see!!
Please let us win the SuperBowl.
We've waited all so long! We are
the fans of Buffalo, we pray our
time has come!!!!!!!
Written by Gustavo, Gaston, and
myself. Gustavo likes the
Vikings, Gaston likes the Buffalo
Bills. Were all rooting for the Bills.
Go Bills!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE END
When the jaws of death
Snatch up your loved one
The only thoughts
Suitable for the moment
Are ’****! Bloody hell!
She wasn’t even ready yet,
I wasn’t really done with him’
But you can’t cry them out loud
So you just go on and let
Them hot tears flow.
When the claws of death
Grab up your dear one
The only feelings
Suitable for the moment
Are’ why me, oh! Why me
So many words and joys
Left over for us to share!’
But you can’t scream them out loud
So you just go on and let
Them hot tears flow.
When the shadow of death
Swallows up your beloved
The only words
Suitable for the moment
Are’ he gives beauty for ashes’
Strength for fear
Gladness for mourning
Peace for despair’
These you can sing out loud as
You let them hot tears flow,
Sometimes, I used to feel,
like the Lord
had forgotten about me.
Like, me and my stuff
had been put on the back burner,
until I could figure out,
whatever it was...
whatever it was...
whatever it was,
that HE wanted me to see.
And, sometimes it felt like...
whatever lesson that
was meant for me to learn,
I couldn't learn it.
And, whatever points
in this life game,
that I needed,
I didn't have what it took,
to earn it.
Like, the devil had time,
to snatch up my list of dreams,
set it on fire,
and just burn it.
So that all I could do,
would be, to think of my dream,
and with tears in my eyes,
just yearn it.
In the desert of my mind
Are nomadic dunes of ineptitude.
I traverse these dunes
Seeking words
Like a thirsting man after water.
My search is slow and ponderous
As my feet sink deeply
Into sands of frustration.
Drops of imagination
Fall from my brow
And are absorbed in the same sands.
Cresting a barrier of mediocrity
I see a puddle of liquid letters
Left by some recently passed storm.
I race to this source of inspiration
As quickly as my inability will allow.
Kneeling beside this tiny pool of possibilities
I cup my trembling hands
And scoop out the last swallow of satisfaction.
I bend my face low
To drink in the sweet elixir of purpose,
But, in so doing, I lose my balance.
I splay my hands to catch myself
And thus release the vagrant liquid,
Sending it back to the earth.
I watch disbelievingly
As tiny grains of discouragement
Darken under the stain
Of lost expectation.
“No!” I cry as I snatch up the sand
Now wet with the dew of my hope.
Would that I could
Suck the very moisture from each particle
That sticks to my hands in damp mockery.
The refreshing coolness of anticipation
Evaporates much too quickly.
In the stifling air of despondency
The grains dry and cascade form my hands
In a slow waterfall of contempt.
The realization of my fate
Comes to me in a wave of despair.
Anguish wells inside me
And pours forth in tears
Of hopelessness.
They stream down my cheeks
And breach the dam of futility.
They then pass with a salty sting
Over my immobile, cracked upper lip.
My tongue darts about
And absorbs the drops of destitution
Greedily.
So it is my thirst for words
Is momentarily,
Yet inadequately, appeased.
Tiny Tears dolls and tea sets remind me of my childhood.
My twin always wanted to play with them, for her own good.
Not a girly girl, I was resentful and wanted to be Peter Pan.
Not the Mary Martin Peter, but the boy peter, I was a big fan.
I see those Tiny Tears dolls in antique stores and I want to barf.
My twin wanted to dress up in dresses, sunglasses and a scarf.
I wanted to stand on porch railings as my swashbuckler self.
My stupid Tiny Tears doll sat alone, on a high up unused shelf.
Tiny Tea sets also set me off, putting me in a rather angry mood.
They held not even a whole drop of liquid, and barely any food.
Tiny Tears dolls and tea sets. They are probably still up on the shelf.
I was busy out in the woods, playing Robin Hood, or Bandit Elf.
My childhood was amazing, in that I had an identical twin.
We barely did anything together, for she was girly, and I was not.
We can hardly decide on a matching shirt these days.
I do not care, and she cares so much, she gets overwrought.
So what did I snatch up upon my mother's death?
That silly Tiny Tears doll and the blue flowered tea set.
For even when I protest, and I do not even know why.
They hold memories that I simply cannot give up or forget.
oh how the days they fly
> they soar above the clouds
> with the flutter of a heart beat
> and memories resound
> time is an endless thing
> that the days seem to forget
> as they fly much too fast
> for humanity to get a grip
> and we try to catch the days
> as they leave one by one
> but we stumble and fall
> teetering on oblivion
> And as humanity sits alone
> with only the Earth and its wonders
> we beg for more time
> to explore
> to wander
> Because the days don't just fly
> they run faster than light
> and we can't keep up
> but yet we still try
> we snatch up the days
> all the ones we can reach
> the days that run slow
> and the hours we can keep
> because time is a precious stone
> worn around our necks
> wisdom and love and pain
> are used to polish it
> and our time is our days
> and our days are our lives
> and without all our days
> then we could not fly.
Form:
Commitment is a permanent show
where love is its harmonic sound.
I'm not really down with that show
although I will feature the crowd
But somewhere across the stands
I am sitting in wait and in hold.
The chances are within my hands
Let me sell you this gold!
I can be that glass of water to quench your thirst
I can feel for you a love that intensifies
I can be the one you turn to when the lights go out
I can be for you,
I can be,
Whatever you desire
I don't want commitment
I don't need proposals
All i need is you time
Get drunk in the incense of time
I will be lying in wait
Waiting to snatch up my prey
Why bother with love, why bother with pain
Feed the beast through lust
I can be your sphere of influence in your life
I can feel for you a tender side you want to deny
I can be the voice you silence in the dark
I can be,
I WILL be,
Whatever you require