Best Snook Poems
There once was a pigeon
Who lived in a cage
Its fluffy exterior
All tormented with rage.
The beaky beast ruled
The entire place
Scaring it's fellow creatures
Venom scribbled all over its face.
"PIGEON PIGEON!!!" all the other animals cried
Look what you've done
All the other pigeons have died.
Defiantly the pigeon stood firm
And puffed his chest out proud
"Can't you see from my actions
I stand out from the crowd!"
Later that day all the other birds devised a plan.
Ollie the owl who lived in the tree
Whispered to everyone
Had them chuckling with glee
To make a fool out of the pigeon
Was their plea.
Ollie the owl snook into his cage
Grabbed him by his talines
Plucking his feathers like a leaf of sage
Ernie the Eagle snatched him
And swiftly flew him into town
Without any care.
Mr Pigeon now shivering in disbelief
A fallen tyrant soon to be disceased
Ernie the Eagle now the thoughtful chief
Vowed not to speak of Pigeon the life thief.
'Course as a grim teller of tall tales,
(albeit poetic) reasonable rhyming
quasi roundelay I readily admitted to feign
cuz, stringing words together with
pride and prejudice plus
sense and sensibility, jocularity,
and conformity I dissed deign
(spoiler alert) iamb, trochaic,
dactylic, and anapestic metrical reign
jest your ordinary garden variety
dollar short day late dime a dozen
penniless citizen banker Abel and Cain,
yet mine mean mien blithely, daringly,
fatuously, ludicrously, nauseatingly,
pretentiously playfully urbane
many (if not all readers)
will coon sitter
yours truly harmlessly insane,
whose feeble attempts
to wax and wane
oft times falls flat (splat goes Matt)
as if dropped out plane,
without a parachute
instantly recuperating while lain
supine (winded, but...
none the worse) asthma brain
suffers concussion, confusion, contusion
actually, immediately, and unexpectedly
knocked fluent German speaking ability
within germane guy verständlich?
If ye really comprehend
trademark non Turkish gobbledygook
then explain (using
language of least familiarity),
but best to commence
with eye catching hook
impossible mission
apt lit pupils (mine)
to evade even momentarily
riveting, spellbinding,
and transfixing look
courtesy ingenious way
with word ye snook
cored me and took
wind out my sails.
Nor could I breakaway courtesy automobile,
cuz 2009 Hyundai Sonata
would not start... yea for real,
thus finding me ready to yoke
neck (think gibbet) each heel
dangling as body goes limp
blessedly, finally, happily
ridding me of any/all hangups,
one less goo goo gaga born this way
poker face cards for him to deal.
UNGABLUZUM describes this schlemiel!
What I know about fish
You could fit on this dish
But I thought I would give it a try
So I bought me a pole
Catching fish was my goal
And I thought I could learn on the fly
What's there too know ?
How bad could it go
It's as easy as baiting a hook
You cast in your line, in a hole that you find
loaded with oodles of snook
So I started out early,
A bit feeling surly
For rising before the sun
When I got on the boat
I was wearing my floats
And the others began to make fun
So we trolled out a ways
Through the brown muck and haze
To get to a spot, we all thought
Had plenty of fish, but our inner wish
Was to drink all the beer that we brought
So I've learned, from that day
The real fishermen's way
And I'll never forget it, because
It's not important the size, trophy or prize
We're just out to catch a good buzz
My park to me was not see-saws nor swings
instead, a treasure chest of stranger things.
A marble grave, 1891, well kept
where 'Tiny', estate owner's dog now slept.
The long gone Manor House front Portico
and where the star struck teenage lovers go
holds carvings, some initials, from the past
though in one case someone had left their last.
Script ' E Potts joined navy 1943'
Did such detail writ mean 'remember me'?
So many times I've gazed upon his name
that plea cut deep in stone it's power retains.
His call over the years still engraved there
since boyhood I have offered up a prayer.
The culvert is a concrete tour de force
too tempting for adventurers, of course.
Amphitheatre for screaming, scary,
in heavy rain, tomb for the unwary.
Mill races, lock gates, tunnels, falls and weirs
all testing grounds for our deep darkest fears.
There was no challenge our band could resist
we cocked a snook, and nature raised a fist.
Returning home, triumphant, green with moss,
in trouble, but we didn't give a toss.
The moment was our game and joy the prize,
such treasure blind to all but children's eyes.
Seek us out, the park was where you found us,
Green fields of innocence, it's magic bound us.
Feb 14th 2016
For contest 'The Park', sponsored by Craig Cornish.
The Unknown
Enforcing my authenticity because
I am a child of the Most High...
I am a citizen of Zion, concealed with zest
With my quiver full of destructive creativities
Sharpen with ingenuities
Garnished with embellished tongues of Holy Ghost pen...
I conquered territories built by self-limitations
Bringing down every high and low thought of illusory fantasy...
Bedwetting a chain of change in the history of mankind
I am the unknown, yet to be reveal
I am the revealed, yet to be understood
I stooped and shook
Swimming and soaring with minds above the region of my nose...
With new vigour, I smell the roses...
Ready to cock a snook with intellectual vagabond...
You may call me, son of a gun,
Simply because my guts outweigh your guns
I don't give a damn because
You are little in your views about me
Watch me, I am the unknown………
Awoh Kingsley
9th November, 2012
Written at the Zone A, Nigeria Customs
Harvey, Yaba, Lagos.
I loved you John Wayne!
I wished you were my father
or maybe an older brother
who’d tutor me to be tough
when manners weren’t enough
and toughness was needed
that civility be heeded
and not to brag or complain.
O I loved you John Wayne!
As soon as I was old enough
to earn the price of admission
I saw your films in succession
at the first run houses down
in the big deal part of town
and enshrined each one on a list
taped to my bedside wall
and read about the ones I’d missed.
Shucks, I loved you most of all!
Fort Apache and Red River
took pride of place on the page;
they’d eaten up my weekly wage.
I missed the Yellow Ribbon;
I hoped I’d be forgiven.
At the Rio and the Broad
(in a dicey neighborhood)
I atoned with films you’d done
before I was even born.
Western after Western
and tales of oil and whiskey
and scheming ladies, O so risky!
I hoped I’d be excused
when I compromised my muse
by adding well-built gals
to Duke and all his pals.
Montez, Russell, and Lake
made my hormones quake.
O I loved you, John Wayne.
I could feel your bashful pain
When the pretty lady roped you
and hat in hand you’d bow,
the furrow deepening on your brow,
and utter monosyllables plus “Ma’am,”
no longer a ram, more like a lamb.
O I shared you pain, John Wayne!
And still I loved you John Wayne,
your true grit and donnybrook,
your menacing brow, the look
that said, “Enough, my friend.
“This bull is going to end!”
You swaggered? (not quite it--
as if your boots didn’t quite fit?)
You took him by the horns and shook;
Plomp! Down went the snook!
How I loved you, John Wayne!
And I love you still when again I see
the doughty Duke on my smart TV
as much as Papa’s lone old man,
with fish chewed down to the bone
loved Joltin’ Joe Dimaggio
when the Clipper’s legs began to go
and he was hobbled by his heel.
John Wayne, you were the real deal.
I snook up to the window
Light was lit inside
Trying to make myself invisible
Against the wall I pressed my side
I shuffled along inch by inch
was just about to peak
When i heard someone in the room
Raised voices and a slap, felt weak
Oh my what shall i do now
Do I call the police
Can hear a lady screaming
Something about relief
Many blows were struck
Cries hard to understand
I peeped could see the man
A belt in his hand
I dialled the police
Said dont make a sound
When they arrived
Was pleased to have around
They looked through the window
Starting to laugh out loud
Just 2 nymphomaniacs
Whipping to them was allowed.
Just goes to show you
Not all is what you think
Keep your nose out of trouble
Stay chained to the kitchen sink.
Where to look
When to cook
See me there
Catch a snook
Cut it up
Fill the cup
Want another
Fry it up
Please
No ketchup...
Gotta have guts to fall and rise,
To buck the trend and wrest the prize,
To thrust your life in hands of mates,
To believe in self, tempt the fates.
Each day give yourself a surprise.
Night's dark mantle leads to sunrise,
Rise from the dust with this surmise.
Cock a snook at life if it grates.
Gotta have guts.
When you are down and life's not nice,
It's up to you to add the spice.
Play not as the rule-book states;
You'll grin when you knock at the Gates.
Heed well these words , those of the wise :
Gotta have guts!
~12 Jul 2016~
syllables checked via www.howmanysyllables.com
Best Rondeau Poem - sponsored by Laura Loo
Rondeau Rhyme Scheme: AABBA-AABC-AABBAC
EIGHT Syllables in each line except the 4th line in second stanza ( C ) and the last line in the third stanza. ( C ) They have FOUR syllables and is the repeated refrain from the first four syllables in stanza one
The August's heat wave made streets sizzle,
in the fifties there was no air conditioning;
can we imagine the frustrutating feeling
that made bodies and minds very feeble?
Summer was fun on that noisy Mulberry Street,
no traffic went through it: such a sad downbeat;
how happy were the kids that couldn't help screaming,
getting wet in a large pool of water that was refreshing.
Blame that rascal kid that opened the firehydrant,
nobody went to school and mothers seemed moody;
some vendors were mad, but watching was so groovy...
they weren't nagging and enjoyed the scene with interest.
My books lay on the stoop, splashing water made them slide
nom brought them in giving me a naughty and disapproving look...
even she realized that's another silly excuse for me not to hide,
dipping bread into her delicious gravy while dad sliced the snook.
Copyright ( c ) 20017 by Andrew Crisci
- The Villanelle Of The Look MINDSET MISCONCEPTIONS-
Misconceptions babbling unspoken about the look
Deeply was just so broken and outgoing
Forces could never forget the outcome book
Stories miss read, Mindset was shocked by the rook
He found himself feeling rather flowing
Mindset couldn't stop thinking about the look
Misconceptions was spooked by a notebook
He thought the situation had become rather seagoing
But Mindset could never forget the outlook
tried to distract misconception with a hook
Hook-Line and sinker like a fish time to start thinking a boing
Bells ringing couldn't stop ding-donging about the look
Misconception took action like a snook
The look was becoming too easygoing
Mindset could never forget the outlook
Misconception nosedived like a dreamy overlook
His mindset became dangerously glowing
Misconception couldn't stop thinking about the look
But he could never forget the outcome shook
2/15/23
Written words© by James Edward Lee Sr.2023©
A Villanelle poem type
Railroad Tracks
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Down by the riverside under the bridge are the masses
of those who have chosen to throw in the towel
Although labels are not mine to place on anyone
These broken discarded shells converge in the revel
Willingly donning the titles blindly playing the roles
Junkies, winos, dealers lets not forget the sluts or whores
Each day I pray that at least one could find the will to live
But reality is a harsh mistress, as I bait my hook with shrimp
Realizing that what I do to the snook isn't so different from
their wasted lives drinking, the poison rotgut and making love
to their mistress crack
Very few that are hooked ever live to tell the tale
There by the railroad tracks the wasted existence has only
the promise of an untimely death
Announcing its presence it snook in above,
through a window that I'd left ajar,
no time get up and give it a good shove
to close it, the distance was too far.
I was in no position to choose 'fight or flight',
my options were cut down to just one,
that was sit very still ( I had some time to kill)
and then make a move when it had gone.
When it comes down to fear, and I'll make this quite clear
things that fill me with terror are few,
but one of those things is being stung by a wasp
when halfway through a sit on the loo.
A hot July evening, and nothing had stirred,
the minutes just ticked slowly past,
too hot for much effort, and even the birds
gave up chirping as long shadows cast.
I savoured the moment and reached for my glass,
cold lager to help quench my thirst,
when I saw something black in the bubbles of gas,
close inspection, and I feared the worst.
A fly had snook down while my back had been turned
lost it's footing and fell in the beer,
and now paddled in vain for the side of the glass
but could not make it out of first gear.
Since it spoiled my enjoyment, a spoon for employment
was acquired and from my drink was scooped
the sad fly in some drops, poured it out where it stopped
with no movement, all out it was pooped.
With it's legs in the air (and I know, I've been there)
it finally righted itself, shook a wing, rubbed it's head
but not flying, instead took a gentle walk on my shed shelf.
Oblivious now to the story of how
I'd just graciously saved it's poor life,
I wondered as it slowly wobbled off home-
what on earth did it say to it's wife?
Snow appearing upon fertile ground
Wrinkles even more abound
Uncle Sam stealing money from my check
Life is a short seeming long trek
Beautiful women passing me by
Excitement gone and can't say why
It takes a miracle to get hard
The whole body turning into tub of lard
Everything I eat adds more weight
Can't even stay up late
Life closes like a book
No more pages for this old snook