Best Thereabout Poems
Melanie chopped down the trees
(Not by herself, of course)
That Jackie planted, just so she
Could get on her high horse.
The critics all swooped in to say
It’s “empty,” “cold,” and “white,”
Replacing all the flowers
That were colorful and bright.
My favorite comment goes like this:
(Or something thereabout)
“Who switches up their garden when
They’ll soon be moving out?”
Categories:
thereabout, garden,
Form:
Rhyme
Temper so beastly, troublesome and wild
Anger quite disturbing which isn’t defined
Nuisance and discomfort suffered by loved ones
Two or thereabout, the usual age for this display
Rendering everyone around alert and agitated
Unnecessary hostility, care givers undeservedly face
Markedly disappears with more years grown.
Categories:
thereabout, character, child, childhood, life,
Form:
Acrostic
From the cradle of birth through the complex of life,
to finally the dungeon of death,
generational instincts react when there’s strife,
so a new order, takes its first breath.
In a pristine held valley with forest and stream,
where beauty and colour stand out,
odd shapes have a reason designed for the scheme;
there’s not a straight line thereabout.
So often we stroll through this balance of time,
blinkered and blind to its role.
What comes to the eye is not reason nor rhyme,
but wasteland that needs our control.
But bellbirds who call from the tree tops up high,
or boronia scent on the breeze,
and the cascading current that flows with a sigh,
are meant to put our mind at ease,
and surely they will if we’re given the chance,
to seek out these intricate things,
so there is more than a mere fleeting glance,
when we travel on butterfly wings.
When blossom takes over the rim of a shrub,
and the lure of nectar is strong,
pollen is moved through the whole of the scrub,
when the working bee moves it along.
The canopy gorges on sunlight and rain,
and filter them both to the soil,
so embryo seeds, start to swell and strain,
and seed leaves begin to uncoil;
not that you’d notice when you’re walking by,
you don’t see these intricate things,
unless of course you are willing to fly,
and travel on butterfly wings.
Go back to nature; to our dear mother’s arms,
who won’t support queens and kings,
but she will take you on a journey that calms,
if you dream you’re on butterfly wings.
Categories:
thereabout, beauty, butterfly, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Telling "White Lies"
My mother got born November
thirteenth, nineteen hundred thirty five
within poverty stricken household
of Canarsie, Brooklyn, the youngest
(most mollycoddled) of four siblings,
experienced grinding poverty, no
matter maternal grandfather (Moishe
Kuritsky), a tailor he lacked drive
to support his family two parents +
remainder offspring, he helped sire
lacked positive role models, none the
less gumption taught her to strive
at tender age livid with rage to escape
caricature living poor, thus sought
employment when/wherever sheik hood
if necessary fibbed to survive
plus rash of healthy nurturing, and
absolute zero constraints, perhaps five
or thereabout years old attested
much later, suspected her papa did jive
with unspeakable improper behavior
(nobody dare discuss taboo issues),
yet intuition awoke within immoral
conclusion Harriet Kuritsky did arrive,
and perhaps resorted to stretching
the truth (fibbing a "white lie") the only
recourse available plied sweet innocence
knowing little or nothing about birds
feathering their nest, nor little about
buzzfeeding activity in beehive
naivete flirtatious coyness advantage worked,
I bet young thang did connive
and probably never did contemplate,
deliberate, generate and wrongdoing,
where mother of necessity spurred
angelic demureness strategy to contrive
securing bare necessities, hence fast
forward, when unsolicited advice given
to this sole son, or either sibling, (an older
& younger sister) tactics upbringing did deprive
ma mum of positive role models, hence
only blueprint to acquire essential needs
serendipitous series of unfortunate events
before Lemony Snicket did derive
school of hard knocks, (I do believe
formerly called Abraham Lincoln High)
rather than impugn, judge, revile, et cetera
kernels/nuggets of wisdom memory did revive
within my mind for rhyme, nor reason
blunt honesty, not always best policy
despite ten commandments
to husbands with many a wive.
Categories:
thereabout, abuse, age, america, child
Form:
Ballad
I was sittin' on the porch today reminiscin' about this and that,
And my hometown came to mind where I grew up as a feckless brat!
Life was lived at a slower pace it seemed, back in that place and time.
We didn't smoke grass but stealin' watermelons was a common crime!
The senior prom was held in the school gym and didn't cost a bunch.
There was no McDonalds so you had to eat at Marty's Diner for lunch.
Imagine! You danced cheek-to-cheek to a romantic Miller refrain,
And there were no computers - you actually had to use your brain!
The girls in your class were OK, but you preferred gals in that other town!
You raced about town in your Ford and with the cops became quite renown!
Guys kept shotguns in their jalopies to go rabbit huntin' right after school.
You took pleasure in datin' your pal's ex-girl friend, thinkin' you were so cool!
You could usually find who you were lookin' for at the dairy bar or pool hall.
You pushed a reel-type lawn mower when you'd rather be playin' basketball.
Everyone gathered downtown on Saturday nights for a movie or just to hang out.
Boys started drivin' their dad's John Deere tractor at age ten or thereabout.
If you walked somewhere, people would stop to see if you needed a ride.
Should you be the last kid chosen for a game, that really hurt your pride!
Boys wore 'butch' haircuts and girls sported ponytails and saddle shoes.
When I recall those carefree days I get a touch of the melancholy blues!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
thereabout, childhood, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
At the corner of King and Far West Street
A newly arrived German family
They'd given birth to one
We were twelve or thereabout
I saw her in twilight of Hit Parade on radio Belize
I'd just walked barefoot from my yard
Never made it to Jim, the grocer next door.
I was face to face with newness of life
Eyes like a pussy cat, she pulled me
Half devoured me with her embrace
She squeezed as if to savor joy
I was pissed she dared to seize me
Caught me off guard
I smelled the smell of evening rose, but
Could not chase the fog that vied for her warmth
I knew not the color of friendship
Dark chocolate, white hands
Blues by the Caribbean Sea.
*
Categories:
thereabout, anger, childhood, confusion, emotions,
Form:
Bio
Cataracts are bothering me, checking it out
Blurry at best, peeing in the sink or thereabout
Walk into walls
Drink ethanol
Lately by mistake, I've even eaten sauerkraut
Categories:
thereabout, surreal,
Form:
Limerick
On the last evening of a wonderful weathered
summer, flitting between the branches
of our rowan tree and the Chinese wind chime
that some like me hear a sound almost divine
while others hear as an irritant in an English
garden, a young male blackbird with yellow
beak chirping - four, three, two, but rarely one
note and as the Prima Don in the opera of the
evening waves its head and wags its tail so
belligerently at rivals thereabout, whether
birds, cats or me, weathering our courage.
Categories:
thereabout, bird,
Form:
Free verse
The mother carries about her jutting womb,
pains, torments, fatigue… her daily companions.
For nine months or thereabout no one relieves her
of the bulk, and the toil attached to it.
At labour she is—oh! It’s unbearable!
If a baby girl she gives breath to,
She raises and nurtures her to her prime.
Growing and developing all her puberty signs,
she swing-walks with a serpentine gait.
Her shape becomes attraction; her face derives affection;
yet her smiles command attention and the bulges
control desire; instilling it deep into the heart.
Consequently, she is adjudged wanted,
and shall soon be cardio-captured.
Unbeknown to her, all this sends invitation to man
who already paints an imaginary picture of her.
He checks with his heart to ensure correspondence;
if it is positive, he innovates finesse to employ
in order to lure the mother away
using appreciable words,
to render her weak,
before poaching her daughter away
with promises of eternal partnership.
Categories:
thereabout, marriage, metaphor,
Form:
The mother carries about her jutting womb,
pains, torments, fatigue… her daily companions.
For nine months or thereabout no one relieves her
of the bulk, and the toil attached to it.
At labour she is—oh! It’s unbearable!
If a baby girl she gives breath to,
She raises and nurtures her to her prime.
Growing and developing all her puberty signs,
she swing-walks with a serpentine gait.
Her shape becomes attraction; her face derives affection;
yet her smiles command attention and the bulges
control desire; instilling it deep into the heart.
Consequently, she is adjudged wanted,
and shall soon be cardio-captured.
Unbeknown to her, all this sends invitation to man
who already paints an imaginary picture of her.
He checks with his heart to ensure correspondence;
if it is positive, he innovates finesse to employ
in order to lure the mother away
using appreciable words,
to render her weak,
before poaching her daughter away
with promises of eternal partnership.
Categories:
thereabout, marriage, metaphor,
Form:
Momma lies in the old, old cemetery --
[A space] and then her third grandchild
Stillborn after long, disappointing labor.
Now largely neglected, I go when I can
Seldom seeing a living soul thereabout,
I put money in a caretaker’s wooden box
Hoping he’ll mow the old section clean
Of thistles, and briars, and overgrowth
Before Memorial Day.
The older generation are buried there,
Grands and greats from the old country
Come to work the mines, buy farmland,
Start afresh in the new world overseas.
Their progenies are in a new cemetery
Perpetual care, a few miles to the west
With a luxurious-looking mausoleum,
Flat stones and always well-manicured
Before Memorial Day.
Written August 9, 2022
Categories:
thereabout, memorial day,
Form:
Free verse
La Cucaracha
By Elton Camp
It’s not out in the cold where cockroaches hide
But in warm, moist homes they prefer to reside
If you’ve got them now, but never had ‘em before
They may’ve arrived in a sack from the grocery store
Be assured that if you see them when it is still daylight
You’d be horrified if you should check during the night
They will detect you and quickly scurry across the floor
If you see a few, know that there are many dozens more
Water’s a weekly need that makes them regularly come out
They live a month without food, or somewhere thereabout
Cut a cockroach’s head off and it won’t be quick to die
If no mouth, it can’t drink water is the basic reason why
Don’t be fooled since clean houses may have roaches too
There are more in dirty ones because there’s more to chew
American cockroaches reproduce at a terribly shocking rate
The female need mate only once to get to the starting gate
Every two or three days, the female roach will lay an egg sac
And horrors, into each one, about twelve babies she will pack
If, at night, you walk the kitchen floor and hear a crunch
The one that you killed is representative of a larger bunch
Categories:
thereabout, angst,
Form:
Rhyme
God does not always respond the way one expects.
Its branches dressed in luscious green leaves
From the young look of the spring season
The cherry blossom tree had lost its sheen,
The petals of its flowers faded spread around its feet.
Of its pink blossoms, it had been so proud
Spreading their sweet fragrance thereabout
Attracting couples young and old to sprawl
Expressing their love, such joy all about.
Now fewer people came by and when they did
Walked on by without even looking at it
It felt so alive in the presence of love, what a gift!
Had wanted this feeling never to end, but it did.
Said a little prayer to its Maker
Asked Him if he could bring back the flowers
It seemed to make people so happy
But nothing happened, and the tree felt lonely.
One day a young woman came by
She sat at its feet and began to cry
The tree felt in her the same sadness of loss
And wished it could comfort her somehow.
Said a little prayer again to its Maker
Asked Him how he could bring joy to her
A little wind began to blow suddenly
As if the Maker acknowledged its plea.
Its current detached one of its leaves
That fell on her right cheek upon a tear
With her fingers, she caught the leaf
Palm open, she looked at it without a speech.
A smile spread on her pink lips
For she saw in it a special gift
She wiped her face with the leaf
And turned her face up to the tree.
With a sparkle in her eyes, she said sweetly,
“Thank you. You lost all your flowers recently
Yet you gave me a gift of hope with this leaf
I know now I can take the lead.”
By CarolineCécile, April 24, 2009.
Categories:
thereabout, inspirational, loss, upliftinglost, people,
Form:
Free verse
Upon Discovering A Wishbone...
(to late for Hanukkah)
I attach very
little value, nee doubt
to farfetched linkedin
phenomena brought about
when breaking off
the larger section
of a wishbone,
sans effortless knockout,
my dominant hand
did hold out,
while yours truly pretended
to freak out
with a playful
twist and shout,
no matter aye attribute
"FAKE" good luck,
thus resumed crafting
this poem scout
ting for expressing
rhyme to work out
for no reason only to rollout
a silly ditty re:
guarding Bobe myseh -
I did not tout
(Old wives tale,
an untrue belief), -
on par with trout,
that could scale Mount Fisher
anticipating literary washout
nonetheless silently did ruminate,
(preposterous yen for
lower teeth to sprout),
after filling more
lines against whiteout
quickly some minutes
passed, or thereabout
aye, forgot about
the matter altogether
thus imagine my utter stirabout,
when my tongue felt
faint ridge to stickout
no, though gifted
with vivid imagination...,
an immediate welled up,
(then quickly squelched) to runabout
mine person tends tubby
low key, but...now phaseout,
could take place
for lower dentures
with greater choice of foods,
(this pork guy) could pigout
humph...naturally methought
third set of teeth,
not exceptionally outrageous,
nor exceptionally noticeable
unless...lower lip made
into a miniature rainspout.
Categories:
thereabout, allah, angel, faith, irony,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Natty disasters sitting in boneyard wing
Hidden rolling shadows re-occurring
Tumbles the rain that rapture bring
All sodden on Golgotha fog·ging
Utterly murky shadows about
Dank teeth beyond the tomb square
The blindness of the swollen moon thereabout
Lightning strike, bitter air scare
The sky cracks as if slashed by a knife
Somewhere in yonder thunder blast wave
Sneak trees creak into the air life
Sinister and frosty on the grave
Spread quaking fears under midnight stroke
Dull spirits near shadowy flagstones
Grasping dark devils amongst the cloud choke
A poet's life, a written dream captured around ghostly tombstones
Categories:
thereabout, death,
Form:
Quatrain