Best Starters Poems
~Introduction~
Sometimes our mind takes us on a wrong turn,
And we find ourselves on Worry Boulevard.
Oh, whatever to do?
" Winding Down"
Well, for starters, acknowledge your mind and thank it,
for sharing whatever it did with you.
It will keep you in it clutches, if you allow it to!!
Remember the deep breathing?
"Smell the fresh roses,and after that, blow out the candles."
Well, then do it, it's a peaceful meeting.
Soft music that leads your mind on poetic trails, that are magical,
is just so perfect for you.
Women, can ponder some very handsome males in their minds' view.
Remember....God loves you more than the lilies of the field, be
like them, no toil.
You make things worse with inner mental turmoil
Gratitude is your next tool. Get out your pen, and journal
what you are blessed with.
Anything from a warm cup of tea to that new dress, your loving
cat or dog~
Are breathing,living forms of creation with their loyal, velvet,
tenderness can blow away the fog.
Learn a new form of poetry and above all remember to laugh!
Don't get engrossed in a worry gaffe!
On days of worry, no news or negative movies.
Find comedy and above all~humor to soothe, thee!
A dreamy, floral bubble bath with a gentle, flickering lavender
candle.
Just thinking of that bath and beauty is more than I can handle.
Drink your cup of favorite chamomile tea~
Coffee may raise stress and your anxiety.
Positive physical contact with a family of friend.
A hug, an embrace to our hearts, peace sends!
A gentle walk in God's colorful autumn, yoga, or meditation.
Remember to think of others more on these days, that is my
heartfelt recommendation.
10/15/2020
Opus# 1
I remember the days
before technology
before computers
before cell phones
before smart tvs
In particular
I remember one summer day
when I heard on the radio
that the microwave oven
had been invented !
I really thought this was it ~
they had finally invented
every possible thing
but then…
they put a man on the moon
and it was only the beginning !
How our world has since
spun out of our grasp
illusions of grandeur
never nearly big enough
exploration beyond our universe
trying to connect with aliens
when we can't get along
within our human race
Priorities askew ~
Who cares about
this endless technology
What if our geniuses focused on ~
feeding the starving nations
sending all children to school
caring for mistreated animals
fixing the environment that’s
damaged beyond repair ~
They could try solving greed
and cruelty
and selfishness
for starters
The countertop microwave oven affordable for residential use was introduced in the late 1970s.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on September 18, 2020 for contest A HISTORIC EVENT sponsored by WILLIAM KEKAULA - RANKED 3RD
My boat rocks gently under a reddening sun,
is it wrong to wish for a Viking burial,
to ponder a last journey West
into the dying light?
Strangers have always been my friends,
they intuit
the liquid and inflammable nature
of this thing we do.
I could rest my soul here in this skiff
on this one long warm wave of evening;
let the wooded lands and sloping meadows,
the dredged, smoke-stacked barge brimming ports,
the patched up river towns slip on by
under the kindling sails of evening clouds.
I am laid out like a homeless person
bundled up in my rags and tinder,
a shadow in a small boat, drifting.
Night falls to the water
the words of strangers flame high
fire starters and their poems gleaming
as the dark rushes in.
I hitch the boat to a stump of land,
still imagining a Viking funeral,
but also resigned to a tomorrow -
yet another strange place
to play with this fire.
Dad, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod's not right;
Seems to me they’ve not a clue.
For starters, they tried to sail at night,
Though wood shoes float, that much is true.
And then they meet a talking moon:
A moon that laughs and sings a song?
Be quiet, child,
Let’s move along.
About these herring, something’s red;
Seems that selection’s rather odd.
Perhaps a different fish instead;
I’d give a nod to scrod or cod.
Child, hush, so I can read to you
Keep talking and we’ll never get through…
I have a doubt about Sleepy Hollow:
Again, why is Crane out at night?
Who holds the rains? It does not follow;
You sure you read the story right?
It’s reins, not rains, you silly head!
Now lay back down upon the bed.
Hey dad, wake up!
This story’s flawed.
I have more doubts ‘bout Ichabod.
To bed, child, hush, to sleep, goodnight!
We can discuss in morning light.
We read to send you off in dreams,
But I must close my eyes, it seems.
The day will come when you are grown
With children of your very own.
With questions that will never cease,
And you will beg for sweet release…
That is a thought that makes me smile,
So I’ll stay here and sing awhile
Make verses up ‘bout Ichabod
And Wynken, Blynken, till you nod.
Nose pressed flat upto the glass,
Pockets tinkling full of brass;
Oblong jars,row on row
Candy -filled,to over flow.
Mintoes,chews and Pontefract cakes,
Limes and milk chocolate flakes;
Jelly beans and sweet love-hearts,
A few of each ,just to start.
Toffee whirls and butterscotch,
Long liquorice laces,all top-notch;
Aniseed balls,French bonbons,
Available now without coupons.
Sugared almonds and white mice,
Vanilla fudge,a penny a slice!
Just for starters a chocolate ice,
As it's going at half-price.
Barley sugar and a sherbert straw,
The shop bell tinkles as I close the door;
Is that the time! I'll have to skate,
Back into school,I can't be late.
A snail and a rabbit,
Had a competition called,
The tortoise and the hare,
The rabbit a show off,
Look at my competition,
Ha ha ha,get outta here,
But the snail showed no fear,
Bam,the starters gun,
Starting blocks cleared,
But no matter how the rabbit ran,
The snail found second gear,
The rabbit hits over-drive,
In the distant he disappears,
But every time he stops to rest,
Abra-ka-dabra the snail appears,
50 meters from the finish,
He hears spectators cheer,
And to his disbelief,
A snail being thrown in the air,
Won't tell you the snail secret,
Give my word till death I swear,
Now the rabbit lives in a barrow,
Mocked by his friends he lives in sorrow...
*moral*
Lifes' race is not for the swift,
But for who makes plans and endure it....
Ancient and modern is this heartbeat
of a kingdom of four territories;
becoming the first biter to the endocarp of industrialization;
the first host to a global carnival of sports;
running the eldest of all notable department stores
and oldest without aging is one of its publishing houses.
A historic accumulator of colonies
with a spoken identity well pumped into different parts of the world
which has married diplomacy, economy and finance
to give global relevance to anyone who acquires it.
Even with this huge dominance,
Its initial lingua franca was
an adoption from its southern neighbor.
From Winchester to London, the route of its history is endless
Wwth the Lincoln cathedral the first overtaker
of the great pyramid of Gaza in an increasing participating race
and the first caster of the globe’s lifeless identity in Aluminium.
It’s a relentless consumer of Tea
having agents of law enforcement surprisingly not needing weapons
only but in situations of an adrenaline rush.
This defined region also has shoulders high above all others
in space and capacity showcased by Hay-on-Wye,
in dimensions and height, exhibited by Nature’s craft in Avebury,
in the size of a residence of royalty decorated in Windsor,
in numerical value of products traded in Harry ramsden
and a proud member of the starters’ club
in the creation of transportation mediums through rails.
The home of technology’s birth
and the courtyard where science is entertained
which is both less and greater than Thomas Harriot;
smiling when Christopher Merret and the Champagne
both got registered in history’s dairy.
The contribution of William Dockwra through stamps;
the excellence of Charles parsons shown in the stream turbine;
and the magic of Bletchley park
exhibited through the wonders of the colossus
are a fascinating fraction of a wing of its colourful feathers.
If these praises should spread online
The entire world of the internet has among others, Tim Berners to thank.
The tracks of life are set for replay
But we clear our path with might and goals
Sprinting onward come what may.
Looming clouds in our day
Threaten our sunshine, black as coals-
The tracks of life are set for replay.
If golden sunlight’s our pay
We grow for the race, just like foals-
Sprinting onward come what may.
Sometimes we glow from a beaming ray.
Who often foils our best laid goals?
The tracks of life are set for replay
We know the rules and follow them all the way
And carefully run for our souls
Sprinting onward come what may.
Great men and women all made from clay
Some are false starters some are moles;
The tracks of life are set for replay;
Sprinting onward come what may.
Nose pressed flat upto the glass,
Pockets tinkling full of brass;
Oblong jars,row on row
Candy -filled,to over flow.
Mintoes,chews and Pontefract cakes,
Limes and milk chocolate flakes;
Jelly beans and sweet love-hearts,
A few of each ,just to start.
Toffee whirls and butterscotch,
Long liquorice laces,all top-notch;
Aniseed balls,French bonbons,
Available now without coupons.
Sugared almonds and white mice,
Vanilla fudge,a penny a slice!
Just for starters a chocolate ice,
As it's going at half-price.
Barley sugar and a sherbert straw,
The shop bell tinkles as I close the door;
Is that th time! I'll have to skate,
Back into school,I can't be late.
(Subjective Poem)
New Years comes around way to soon each year.
There is so much to do and never enough time.
I usually don’t make resolutions because –
I NEVER have been able to keep them.
I wish for many improvements in my life.
For starters I want to start working in the yard again.
But that is not all. The usual things come to mind like:
Eat healthier; lose weight, which I have given up on,
And get back to the basic things that I love doing,
such as: writing poetry, painting pictures,
playing with Photoshop, taking more photographs,
and enjoying my senior life even with 4 children to raise.
There are some resolutions that I really should work on,
such as: Potty training the toddler and baby –
Being consistent at following through
with consequences , even when I am tired,
when the teen and pre-teen skip tidying,
say naughty words, pick on each other,
or try to get out of chores.
But I have decided, instead to make
New Year’s Resolutions
That I know I can keep. (Is that cheating?)
I resolve to:
1. Never climb down in the huge sinkhole again.
2. Stay off of the children’s twisted slide.
3. I won’t speed down the hill on the John Deer mower.
(I’m not sure I can keep that one. Lol)
4. I won’t climb trees without a ladder.
5. I won’t watch any X-rated movie except:
The Passion of Christ, Shindler’s List,
And the Pirate Movie with Gena Davis,
6. I will not eat hominy.
That’s about it! Happy New Year! (This was fun.)
12/26/2016
Tonight there is a match on telly
The lads are coming round
most of them are married
So my home is to be the neutral ground .
If any of their wives ring
I'm to pretend that I am deaf
and they've all elected me to be
head barman and chef.
I've got Guinness and lager
A crate or two of Yorkshire ale
Newcastle brown and bitter
So the booze just cannot fail .
I've made three lovely shepherds pies
but I asked the lads which veg I should use
I've just been reading their replies
Now I'm totally confused .
One lad doesn't like cabbage
Another doesn't like swede
and it seems broccoli and cauliflower
are members of a dying breed .
The veg that the lads want
From all the replies I've seen
are lots of French fried onions
and cans of Heinz baked beans .
12 drunken farting Yorkies
My house would smell like an old cess pit
So they'll get what their given
They can take it or leave it .
Lemon sole for starters
Chocolate cheesecake for dessert
and if I get a single complaint
I'll kick them where it hurts.
A thorn in the flesh of the green, green grass
Between the line painted straight,
And sometimes bended.
The reek of the starters gun so black
The bulge of the rippling calves, sometimes slack,
As spikes rip through the blades
Of turf so lovingly tended.
I'm locked up how is it even possible to go lock down? But like clock work or a slave in debt to a master I do. Not because I choice to, but because I have no choice. Either lock down or deal with the boot squad, which consist of twenty guards all built like they just step off of the set the hit movie 300 Rise of an Empire. This a few months back would have configured a difficult challenge for me, being I've always had authority issues, or been an issue for authority..... one or the other. Behind these evil walls the outside rules do not apply. For starters you can be who ever you want to be here, no one is going check your resume or say otherwise. I've never been in a place where approximately 80% of the population was professional MMA fighters. Not to mention we over crowded. So a population that was supposed to be 1500 was more like 2000, meaning people sleeping on floors. Yes Hundreds on a hard concrete floor. Still the here are different, so of course naturally no one cares, because to Them, Them being our keepers, we are just animals and so we are treated as such. We are told when to wake, when to sleep, when to feed. Dogs have more freedom, but its justified because we are behind theses evil walls and well the rules here are different. Here Them are Gods and we, the worthless animals, I'm sorry criminals are nothing, but mere, well Nothing. Behind these evil walls we are trained how to be worst then we are originally we are mixed in with the worst kinds of people in order to ensnare us into bonding and conspiring amongst one another only to caught once again and return to the place which in fact made us what we are at that very moment in time. But only the weak at Heart Fall for this ploy. Us who Never forgot who we were, or by some act of God somehow find ourselves behind these walls, we vow never to return, never to darken these stairwells again, but that's what probation and things like parole are for, to ensure that we do but THEM they know the ones they can break. Not me I hate these Walls. These walls are a constant reminder of everything I Hate about control and Authority. I will never return not even to visit, because every time you are there its like a relapse, the next time is so much easier.
Charity starts at home
don't
we say?
Be kind to your kith and
kin
come what may.
A family's not only your
safe
haven
Tis pals your very own
roots
Water these shoots with
love
devoid of hate
So they bear you
sweeter
fruits.
Maybe you'd say that's
not so
easy
but perhaps that's coz
you just
too busy
Or your clock just don't
chime
for quality family time?
For if you can't make
time for
a letter or a hug
Then let my poem give
your
conscience a gentle tug.
And if this may sound
like a
preachy homily
Deserves much more
mention
and affection the family
If you can make time for
so
many other things
some of them not even
worthwhile
Try discover the
happiness
family brings
Just a tad modify that
routine
lifestyle.
My words in crystal clear
clarity
sing compassion is
likewise a
charity
Charity need not be for
strangers only
Find out who needs help
in
kindred and family
Ties of kinship severe not
Value the relations
you've got
Your siblings, cousins
from
your family tree
and all else that you call
family.:-x
An appetizer is the first part - of a meal
I love soup
And I like - alphabet soup
Such letters make up her eloquent bouquet
And one can’t go past such a delicious repast
Served daily at word restaurant - Poetry Soup
But this is just starters - the first part of the meal
For what comes afters’
Is no mean feast – it is served up with such verve
Your palate will be satiated- on succulent meat
And for dessert - what an amazing array to choose from
A cuisine of cultural delight-you’ll not have enough-
You will always want-more!
©? Brenda V Northeast 10th January 2012