Best Thereabouts Poems
He served as a deacon in his church and was as pious as they come.
(But on the side, he sold whiskey from a thirty-gallon drum!)
He taught the junior high Sunday school class and was a Bible scholar.
(But on the side, he 'stilled' moonshine way back up in the holler!)
He was faithful in tithing ten percent of his ill-gotten gain.
(For his John Barleycorn he used only the best obtainable grain!)
He occupied the same pew every Sunday listening with attentive ear.
(It was rumored about that he also brewed some very potent beer!)
He proffered an "amen" at appropriate times and wore a suit and tie.
(He was renowned throughout the county for his very delectable rye!)
His tenor voice blended well when singing, "I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord."
(On back roads he did a bit of bootlegging in his hopped-up V-8 Ford!)
He was the first to offer succor to widows, orphans and others left bereft.
(He'd run his still for years - at evading "revenooers" he was very deft!)
When folks were needed to serve on committees he was first to volunteer.
(When asked his occupation he replied, "I'm a 'Spirit'ual Engineer!")
At Yuletide he was generous with the parson giving him a beef, cash and pork.
(At the annual church picnic he surreptitiously passed a bottle to uncork!)
There couldn't be found a finer saint in all of Boondock County, Kentucky.
(He'll continue to "minister" to parched throats thereabouts - if he's lucky!)
Entry for Tania Kitchin's "Primiere Trophy Contest" Contest
This poem is worthy of a Primiere Trophy since it won First Place in the Poetry Soup International Poetry Contest in April 2011. (Won $50 and an Outstanding Poetic Achievement Certificate).
Categories:
thereabouts, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
'Twas a dark and stormy night! (OK - so I'm being a tad histrionic!)
The Earl of Pence was lounging by the fire sipping his gin and tonic.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared sending shivers down his spine.
Even his hound, Lord Percival, was so upset that he began to whine!
'Twas well-known thereabouts that phantoms haunted the earl's castle,
And on such frightful nights they were bound to cause a spooky hassle.
Nefarious deeds had occurred within Penceshire Castle walls in the past,
And were replayed in 'spirited' form leaving generations of earls aghast!
A shriek from the bowels of the castle sent the dog into howling fits,
And brought the earl bounding to his feet, scaring him out of his wits!
The blood-curdling screams were from a former Earl of Pence who in 1642,
Was hung by his thumbs in the dungeon for a fair maiden that he slew!
Suddenly, the ancient organ in the hall began playing eerie chords.
Heard on the floor above was rowdy dancing by ladies, knights and lords.
Ghastly emanations from the past paraded through the terrified earl's room,
Antecedents all, leering and grinning and predicting the anxious earl's doom!
Lord Percival sensing trouble long before, across the moat had bolted!
The storm subsided and the apparitions faded leaving the earl quite jolted!
He felt a bony hand upon his shoulder that took away his final breath.
'Twas his valet who offered a gin and tonic to the earl who now lay in death!
Categories:
thereabouts, england, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Sometimes
I write poems about
Wine and other essential
Molehills of Life at
4 AM when
Bacchus is still awake
Conniving in
Sheer revelry at the
Mere notion he invented
Satyrs and other
Preternatural nymphs.
Speaking of nymphs, I relish the whim that at
4:10 AM or thereabouts, if I rush outside into the
Oozing Black Syrup, I might brush against one,
Intentionally.
Categories:
thereabouts, fantasy, imagery, myth,
Form:
Free verse
It looked like a bleached tongue
pulled from a mouth,
petrified and incapable
now of letting a word slide over
its calcified silence.
I picked it out of the wet sand
and held it in my hand.
It had little weight, smooth
on one side and pitted
on the other. A cuttlefish bone.
It was a marvel of engineering.
My fingers followed its shape,
took in its texture, the pleasurable
feel of its form. I lifted it to my nose
and smelt its salty, faintly fishy
odor, sea washed to a clean
unsullied smell. It had undergone
a change into something
beyond life, into an artifact of time.
I kept it cradled in my hands,
held it like a sacred relic.
I have seen them too
shrink wrapped in plastic bags
on the end of supermarket shelves,
a calcium supplement for birds
to be hung on a hook
inside of a cage.
They were selling for $2.50
or thereabouts.
Categories:
thereabouts, life, poetry, sea,
Form:
Free verse
Avocado - a true story
It’s green
Not Martian
Avocado fell from high
Perhaps the sky
Or margins thereabouts
More exact
A tree or branch released it down
And found my wife
Nearly took her life
Her eye was hit directly
With bump…. then lump
Untold un-pleasantries of course were hers
She did not cry
But made a side dish of revenge
With proper justice served
Guacamole anyone?!
Categories:
thereabouts, business, food, funny,
Form:
Free verse
Tiny was my first pet and the very same age as I.
With no concept then of life or death, I had no thought she’d die.
A shorthaired, fox terrier dog, with black spots on coat of white,
she was with me when I learned to walk and stayed with me day and night.
Her breed was bred for ground hunting, all badgers need beware.
She’d dig her way into their dens and trap them in their lair.
I didn’t want her hunting them, but she would disobey.
Daddy told me not to blame her, it was just her terrier way.
She would wait for me so patiently when I spent my time in school,
and greet me with a furious wag, so happy she would drool.
And so it went for thirteen years. She was my little pal.
She loved all of the family, but I was her special gal.
She became deaf in her old age, although I didn’t know it.
She was so good at reading minds, she truly didn’t show it.
One day she wandered on the road and didn’t hear the car
that in younger years she would have heard when coming from afar.
I missed my special little friend, and long and hard I cried.
That I'd lost a part of my young life, simply could not be denied.
We buried her there on the old farm where in life she liked to roam
and every badger thereabouts was safer in his home.
Since then I have had many dogs and though I loved the rest,
since Tiny was my very first, perhaps I loved her best.
.
Categories:
thereabouts, pets, me, old, day,
Form:
Couplet
She stays awake for hours, cutting Xs in the sprouts,
Then peels all the tatties, a ton or thereabouts,
Slicing and dicing parsnips is next up in the plan,
Chops up carrots and a swede, and put them in a pan,
Mixes up her sage and onion and stuffs it in the bird,
Along with some pork sausage meat that’s been pre-prepared,
She takes apart the oven, to fit the turkey in,
Hangs it up with bits of string, there’s no room in the tin,
Wraps sausages in bacon, in case they catch a chill,
But makes sure they‘re all cooked thoroughly, so the family won’t get ill,
Cooks the bird for hours, while the table’s being laid,
With all the finest crockery (and some of lower grade),
Makes space around the table, brings in extra chairs,
Adorns the place with candles and other Christmas wares,
Lays out a Christmas cracker in everybody’s place,
Complete with rather tacky joke, no doubt of a straight face,
And brings out all the condiments, the pickles and the sauce,
The salt and pepper, the mustard and radish known as “horse”,
Next she makes the starter, the simplest course by far,
A cocktail made up of prawns and a sauce out of a jar.
The family then all piles in, and argues over seats,
The children are already full of chocolates and treats,
Grandmother is mumbling, “Kids should be seen not heard”,
Meanwhile back in the kitchen Mum’s wrestling with the bird,
She tries to carve up slices, but ends up with turkey chunks,
While Dad and Gramps have become a pair of Christmas drunks,
They start an argument about which wine goes with the meat,
And restless children run around, not staying in their seat,
Mother tries to keep her calm and bravely soldiers on,
But the roasties are all blackened and the sprouts are over done,
Mum enters the dining room looking very puffed,
She throws the turkey down and shouts ,“There you go! Get stuffed!”
18th November 2012
Categories:
thereabouts, christmas, family, food, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
It was four thirty in the afternoon broad daylight,
We arrived home after an exhausting shopping spree,
Pulled into our drive, turned off the engine, to our delight,
Home, don’t look them in the eye, dangerous, there are three.
No sooner had Hubby told me I had a gun to my head,
The other hi-jacker by my husband’s side, oh we’re dead
I said softly. Was wearing a lot of jewellery which they took,
My husband’s man-bag, with two thousand rand, the crook,
His cross and chain, our Rolex watches, then as quickly as they
Appeared, they left, I was devoid of fear, no emotion, I did pray.
Suddenly I noticed the same chap came back with his gun,
Was convinced he was going to shoot but they were not done,
Two more bracelets, can’t open the catch, this is scary, no fun,
So Hubby tugged and broke the clasp, fearing they would shoot
But hijacker happy with his steal, it was quite a catch, this loot!
To this day no one has news, or knowledge of their whereabouts,
It is still an open case, this happened 7 years ago or thereabouts.
It was now 4.35p.m the whole incident took only five minutes,
Their confidence and composure had absolutely no limits,
For us, we could not believe what an ordeal we had gone through,
This happens in South Africa, and other countries, to more than a few
They had followed us from our nearby mall, had spotted the Rolexes’
Called the Rolex gang, were really only interested in these watches
But got lucky as I was wearing more than expected, or projected!
No longer have any gold jewellery, sold it and gave the money
To the needy, whose lives may become a fraction more sunny
Contest : Our Last Thoughts
Sponsor Unseeking Seeker
Dated 24th April 2021
Categories:
thereabouts, life,
Form:
Rhyme
I can hear the water,
a giggle almost,
in the small cold spring
by which I sat
that foggy morning,
sketchbook, pen, and watercolors in hand.
A weed with a single white flower
grew from the innards
of a half submerged,
humus-bound log
alive with neon-green moss.
A brilliant web
spun by a tiny jewel-orange spider
laced the flower to the log.
I dipped my brush in the spring water,
washed it around in the appropriate colors,
painted the scene as best I could,
never coming close to capturing
the brilliance of flower, moss and spider.
Only approximations of nature are possible.
Categories:
thereabouts, nature, spring, flower, flower,
Form:
Free verse
I’m a timeless tree with the fine foliage of my hair
If you’re gentle with me I’ll caress you to sleep in the air
I’ll dispel all your fears and tears you’re willing to share
If you’re humble with me I will shade you in blessings of clouds
Like a sweet bumble bee nibbles sunny blooms and thereabouts
Lightly kissing away all your troubles, misgivings and doubts
But if you for some reason decided to go detrimental
You’ll be crushed with a force that some people would call elemental
You don’t want to be there, I suggest you be humble and gentle
Categories:
thereabouts, funnyme,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m listening intently to the birds
Outside my window as promised
For they seem to be talking birds
Intent on singing it out if pissed
Or chanting it out if challenged
But the tune now has changed
I open the curtains ever so gently
And peep outside but see nothing
On the window sill or thereabouts
I peek over the neighbour’s wall
And still espy no telltale thing
But the bird song now soars
Ha ha! It is that loquat tree again
That has given forth its juicy fruits
But as we could not get to the top
To pick the sweet yellowing fruits
It has mysteriously beckoned
The birds of the sky to a feast!
Categories:
thereabouts, bird,
Form:
Free verse
Dennis Cummings
1844-1920
To my friends of the 41st Infantry!
My men, my brave brothers from Wisconsin, are invited!
Invited RSVP to my domesticated, but dignified digs
On south Milton Street in Whittier town,
There, above the tracks of the Southern Pacific
There, surrounded by my better half’s tulips and pumpkins
There, surrounded by unequivocal respect and love
Of my loyal and nagging better half, Ellen, and
Of my dutiful and loyal son, Lee Roy.
There is a window upstairs facing north,
North to the rising green hills of Whittier town,
North even to the Stars and Stripes
Of my Wisconsin brothers
Of my fellow Wisconsin freedom fighters!
Nightly there, I light a candle for my friends.
My intrepid men, my brave brothers!
Those charging advancing storming souls
Those rampaging, death-staring warriors of the 41st!
Like the fiercely flowing rapids of the Tennessee
There in Chattanooga, and thereabouts,
My brothers and my friends braved the bullets,
Faced the fusillade of fire, the unspeakable violence, and
Even found glorious sacrifice,
Found glorious death in battle,
In the suffocating smoke and sulfur
Of fifty thousand muskets.
Yes, you are invited my brothers! My friends!
Come to my humble home here on South Milton Street
And look to the upstairs window.
There is a candle burning there for you.
Burning with respectful gratitude.
Burning with a proud silence
For my brave brothers,
The storming rampaging men of the 41st.
Categories:
thereabouts, conflict, death, war,
Form:
Epitaph
The sign he reads out loud, “There’s holes ahead.”
The Rip Van Winkle Bridge quite disturbs me.
A story book that’s come to life — with head
To lose. My dad inches along bravely.
The chickens must brood o’er a dicken’s deuce.
We steer to the left and the right, afraid.
We stare at the grave pavement claim, the goose
Of golden time, the sleepy hollow shade.
The radio plays somber tunes, as Cole
Never imagined death— the Catskills fresh.
Diedrich Knickerbocker, lots of soul,
Could tread the troubled water’s edge — refresh.
Let’s build our solid homes, not on the sand.
You’ve guessed! We flew the coop, hopped on dry land!
5/18/2020
Bridge over troubled waters Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Used howmanysyllables.com
1.The Rip Van Winkle Bridge - a cantilever bridge from Hudson, NY to Catskill, NY
2.There was a real sign on the bridge that said, “Holes ahead.”
3.Washington Irving wrote the story of “Rip Van Winkle” and “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” In the latter, there are people who lose their heads. At one time he wrote by the pen name, Diedrich Knickerbocker when he wrote a satirical book about NY history and politics.
4.Shakespeare used the term “dickens” - deuce being another term for the devil
5.“Chicken Little,” was a children’s tale where the chicken “was afraid,” the sky was falling - it wasn’t!
6. In “Jack and the Beanstalk,” Jack stole the goose that laid golden eggs.
7. Thomas Cole - created the first paintings of the American landscape
8. I grew up with the colorful history of Dutchess County and thereabouts.
Categories:
thereabouts, angst, memory, metaphor, water,
Form:
Sonnet
'Twas a dark and stormy night! (OK! So I'm being a tad histrionic!)
The Earl of Pence was lounging by the fire sipping his gin and tonic.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared sending shivers down his spine!
Even his hound, Lord Percival, was so upset that he began to whine!
'Twas well-known thereabouts that phantoms haunted the earl's castle,
And on such frightful nights they were bound to cause spooky hassle!
Nefarious deeds had occurred within Penceford Castle walls in the past,
And were replayed in 'spirited' form leaving generations of earls aghast!
A shriek from the bowels of the castle sent the dog into howling fits,
And brought the earl bounding to his feet, scaring him out of his wits!
The blood-curdling screams were from a former Earl of Pence who in 1642,
Was hung by this thumbs in the dungeon for a fair maiden that he slew!
Suddenly, the ancient organ in the hall began playing eerie chords.
Heard on the floor above was rowdy dancing by ladies, knights and lords!
Ghastly emanations from the past paraded through the terrified earl's room,
Antecedents all, leering and grinning predicting the anxious earl's doom!
Lord Percival sensing trouble long before for the door had bolted!
The storm subsided and the apparitions faded leaving the earl quite jolted!
The earl felt a bony hand upon his shoulder that took away his final breath.
'Twas his valet who offered a gin and tonic to the earl who now lay in death!
Entry for Tania Kitchin's "One Night in A Haunted Manor" Contest
(8 January 2019)
Categories:
thereabouts, england, horror, humorous, scary,
Form:
Rhyme
Chasing The American Dream Part1
The wonders of social media and its different applications ...
They allow everyone to make reconnections and link up broken communications...
Recently through the ever pervasive hphone What's app application...
Chanced upon a long lost childhood acquaintance while in primary education..
Going back 50 years or thereabouts, we were school kids so care free...
School was something we had to do going by our respective parents' decree...
Classmates were aplenty when we were that little and so carefree...
Being that many, some were invariably great company and others were on the periphery...
Now that this generation of us are all pushing 60, greying and decidedly growing old...
Facebook and What's app are some social media aids we indulge among friends so old...
Little wonder we are like scattered oats, prospering all over the globe...
Many of us are already dotting GrandParents and savoring our golden years...
A few adventurous souls have conquered distances, seas and the oceans...
They are no longer residing here in Bolehland, the motherland where they were born....
These adventurous ones are now Australians, Singaporeans and one is even in Kiwiland...
And of course, a few are living the American Dream, lapping it up in the Land of the Free...
Now, at the present moment in history, Bolehland here is far from rosy...
Our currency, thankfully it is stabilised temporarily, has fallen considerably...
The political situation is a tumultuous one with frequent spats of public bickering...
The ruling party appears less than satisfactory and perceived to be corrupted and less than worthy...
The common people, the rakyat, are understandably far from happy....
From the onslaught of removed subsidies, new taxes and heightened cost of living ...
So things are far from rosy here in Bolehland, very much unlike the fabled American Dream...
Where freedom reigns to provide golden opportunities of revelling in the American Dream...
So here's the glaring difference, Bolehland here is sliding down a slippery slope of economics...
While far beyond the horizon, the Trump administration is working towards making America Great Again...
What a difference...
Categories:
thereabouts, america, anxiety, childhood, community,
Form:
Free verse