Best Two Dozen Poems
This bridge has arched the lake's narrows
for a century, flanked on either side
by Autumn trees shedding their faded leaves,
blowing with the first snowflakes
across worn gray stones of my spirit.
Six months ago you felt the first pain.
Now you lie in white sterility
of hospice care, continually exorcizing
the feeding tube, a final tether
binding you to earth,
where the morphine pump wheezes
every fifteen minutes
and missionaries advise prayer
to the strength-less living.
Your a**hole oncologist told me your suffering
was none of my business.
I told him to take his prognosis,
as suffocating as the pine cleaner
lingering like miasma
over hallway linoleum,
and get the f**k out.
From the corner of my eye
I spot a wild rose sprouting on the bank
at the base of a haggard maple,
an anomaly in bleak October,
glaring crimson as my resentment,
angry as the dream when I said,
I'll be your will when yours is gone.
Knowing full well it won't survive the winter,
I give fate the finger
from my dismal perch,
just as I gave you two dozen such blooms this Mother's Day.
I'll see you in Spring,
rises the phoenix from my Summer ashes.
The flurries thicken around me
like a gathering of angels.
With eyes stinging
I toss plucked petals of pennies
into the Judas lake
while wishing as hard as I can.
12/31/18
Picked out the perfect arrangement
two dozen long stemmed roses
with deep ruby red petals
accented with forget-me-nots
each petal representing a kiss
I'll tread over those
luscious and inviting lips
and the forget-me-nots showing
my never ending love for you.
Reservations made.
We'll rendezvous at Les Ombres
In the shadow of the Eiffel Tower
I'll gaze lovingly at your
dazzling smile
fall deep under the spell of your
sparkling eyes
Top the night off with a toast
of champagne
Then whisk you off to a Cinderella's carriage ride
arm in arm, cheek to cheek
kissing you under the luminesce rays of the moon
we`ll take a journey into the sky
upon cupid`s wings
From his arrow we'll spread love
and share the joy it brings
We'll steal the midnight stars
making their fire ours
and when the magic fades
each other we embrace
We'll run to a chateau
by Paris East lake
You undress my innocence
as your breath I take
Breathless you leave me
at the sight of your skin
So supple your chest
inviting me in
Soft slow sweet kisses
tread upon your neck
hands on your hips
there's no turning back
Patriot Guard funeral Escort
Loch David Crane
August, 2008
Today is sunny: with three dozen bikes,
some decorated cars, a pair of trikes,
two dozen Marines: all of the family
and toddlers to set their Daddy free
into the Great Beyond beyond the sky
where loved ones send their veterans who die.
Below our feet the stones give way to grass
where they are neatly trimmed; and as we pass
the names of strangers stare into the air
and we look back, wondering who lies there.
I won't step on a grave--I'll walk around
so not to insult those within the ground.
We ride at funerals honoring those vets,
brave men and women we have never met.
When I was young, we moved often, but then we bought
a farm; in the spring at the feed and seed
Daddy purchased two dozen chicks
In the small pen they're placed
Momma cared for them, giving them food and water
They grew at lightning speed; each day roamed free
One of them turned into a shiny feathery
Rhode Island Red rooster aimed for slaughter
He was territorially based
He chased me and did kicks
Terrorized by one mean bird, I feared I would bleed
When in my face the spurs tender skin caught
My mother saw the scene and the red rooster taught
She chopped his head off with an axe, he's freed
He fluttered twice, I stood transfixed
Under the house he raced
My mom crawled under, she did this for her daughter
We had rooster and dumplings~ what a tea!
Sponsor: Constance La France
Contest: A Little Memory
Date Written: 01-08-2021
Check with Syllable Counter.com, it is close as I can get with it saying what I want it to say.
I checked the spelling on my computer. I checked the grammar on poetrysoup.com. Nothing major. I probably needed to work on some word choices though.
1When I was young, we moved often, but then we bought 12
2a farm; in the spring at the feed and seed 10
3Daddy purchased two dozen chicks 8
4In the small pen they're placed 6
5Momma cared for them, giving them food and water 12
6They grew at lightning speed; each day roamed free 10
7 0
8One of them turned into a shiny feathery 12
9Rhode Island Red rooster aimed for slaughter 10
10He was territorially based 8
11He chased me and did kicks 6
12Terrorized by one mean bird, I feared I would bleed 12
13When in my face the spurs tender skin caught 10
14My mother saw the scene and the red rooster caught 12
15She chopped his head off with an axe, he's freed 11
16He fluttered twice, I stood transfixed 8
17Under the house he raced 6
18My mom crawled under, she did this for her daughter 12
19We had rooster and dumplings~ what a tea! 10
IV.
I believed I was done with the vampire ways
and gave thanks for all that had transpired,
but before three months passed, from just outside
I heard the vicious insults of my sire.
Cannot say what pushed me to go out there,
all my brothers urged me to remain,
just given back life by a miracle,
to face such a creature seemed insane.
But on I went to that familiar form
who sniffed curiously at the air.
He snarled,”How is it you smell like a man?”
I said,”His power lifted me from despair.”
My sire laughed,”Do you expect me
to believe you prayed yourself back to life?”
“It wasn’t my prayers, it was His grace
that saved me from this unholy blight.”
Then he roared loud, teeth flashing horribly,
cried,”Your god has just wasted his time!
I will not let him take you from me,
Your life and your soul are both mine!”
He leapt forwards, and I did not move
as his fangs sank deep and he started to drink,
in two dozen seconds he leapt away,
and back from my presence he did shrink.
He screeched in pain and shouted wildly:
“What’s in your blood! I can feel it burn!”
As his body slowly started to decay
I said,”It’s nothing that you haven’t earned.
“You know vampires have no blood of their own,
and must feed on others to survive.
I had none so the Lord lent me His,
it’s something holy that now flows inside.”
My sire fell back, and his body dissolved
to the corpse it long ago should have been,
the vampires he sired, they all died too,
except for me since I was now human.
A final weighed seemed to lift off my back,
and I turned without another word,
walked back to the brothers, glad that I had
three or four decades before me to serve.
A Rose For Me
I don't want one, or two dozen roses.
Just one rose would mean so much to
me. One rose that I could hold close
to my heart.
Why would I want a truck load when
I have already left this world. I want to
enjoy the tenderness and fragrance.
now that I'm still here.
A rose for me, that's all I want. A rose
that tells me that you care. A rose that
comes from you to me...
08/25/2014
By Lucilla M. Carrillo
Peter the Pumpkin went walking one night
When Samantha the Squash strolled past
Peter was smitten, it was love at first sight
"Will you marry me now?" He asked
They ran to Patch Hall like frolicking pups
Judge Winnie the Witch performed rites
"Any veggie who objects, speak now or shut-up!
I pronounce you pumpkin and wife"
Gossip spread in the patch as events unfolded
Artichokes choked and sweet onions cried
Cucumbers clambered and scallions scolded
"Outrageous! They both should be fried!"
Sam's momma fainted, Pete's papa condemned
His shell was quivering with rage
"An inter-gourd marriage? Over my dead stem!
I'll beet your rind-end, you're underage!"
So they fled to Farmer Joe's fruit tree estate
(They're a bit more liberal, you see)
"Hey, what's the big deal? We cross-pollinate!
Sit down, have some compost, feel free!"
"Joe will hoe you a quaint little fertilized bed
There's plenty of space here to grow"
So they put down their roots and quickly cross-bred
Two dozen young Squashkins in a row
I took a trip to the florist,
This past Christmas Eve morn.
And happened by a homeless man,
Who seemed lost, and forlorn.
He said: “Good sir, I need your help,
I don’t seek to deceive,
I need some roses for mama.
For it is Christmas Eve.”
“But they act as though I’m not there,
These florists must be blind!”
He handed me his change and asked,
If I would be so kind.
He’d saved enough for three long stems,
Not much of a bouquet,
But cheerfully he shook my hand,
And then was on his way.
Convinced that I’d done my good deed,
I bought some for my wife.
Two dozen beautiful roses,
For the love of my life.
Driving past the cemetery,
I saw that homeless man.
Kneeling beside his mother’s grave,
And so I parked my van.
My heart was broken by that sight,
I knew not what to say.
I mindfully approached the grave,
Offering my bouquet,
He said: “You meant those for your wif
They should not leave your hand.”
I said, my wife knows I love her,
And she will understand.
I placed them on his mother’s grave,
As tears rolled down his face.
And I was lost in the moment,
Suspended in that place.
Then from behind, a man inquired,
If I had been a friend.
I told him “no, I’m with her son,”
He did not comprehend.
When I pointed at the roses,
The homeless man was gone.
The stranger said, “You’ve seen him too?”
Was he putting me on?
He said, “I believe your story.
For I’ve seen him as well;
On Christmas Eve, six years ago,
A tale I rarely tell.”
He said there’s something I should know,
And quickly clarified.
“It was back in nineteen ninety,
When this homeless man died.”
He came here every Christmas Eve,
Until his final breath.
It’s a practice he’s continued,
All these years, since his death.
Sometimes it takes a miracle,
To make someone believe.
Mine came with roses for mama,
One special Christmas Eve.
Oh my goodness, oh my gosh
We're totally out of toilet paper
Someone broke in and pilfered it
Known as the toilet paper caper
It's really not a laughing matter
So wipe that grin off your face
The FBI's Stolen Bum Wipe Unit
Was called in to take the case
Went around from door to door
Searching for a lead or a clue
Except for a couple of possibilities
Wound up wearing out their shoes
As the leads started growing cold
Up pops this suspicious event
A race being staged at the university
Likely no criminal intent
But the first across the finish line
When they rang the final bell
Was awarded two dozen 3-ply rolls
By the makers of Cottonelle
The flag glides upward in slow motion.
Days have the lucky teachers rehearsed
For this honorable day of the country.
We, children have sung until we go hoarse
No matter it was a sunny or a rainy day.
Rehearsals went on, missing classes and plays.
Yes, the great day is here today!
I proudly stand saluting the flag.
The official goes inspecting the parade.
Each child envies the other with whom is
Exchanged a polite little word and hand shaken.
I stand in my corner, not so lucky.
My eyes rest on the boxes of cakes and juice,
Neatly arranged by the Headmaster’s office
And my interest wavers from the day’s event.
The speech begins; I feel a face familiar was his.
I rack hard my brain keeping a fixed smile.
Years back he was news headlines,
Charged for corruption and misuse of office,
Then for sexual harassment on a minor, it was.
Charges were soon scratched for lack of evidences
And the mass had moved to some hotter issues.
A loud request breaks the monotonous speech,
I come out of my reverie “Children, give a big hand
To our distinguished guest, he is doing a great job!”
The claps echoed loud in the air.
“He is offering two dozen books to our school library!”
The claps grew louder and I clapped hard as I can.
“Three cheers for the country…”
“Hip Hip Hip Hurray!” (3 times)
“Three cheers for the guest of honour…”
“Hip Hip Hip Hurray!” (3 times)
Thrilled I nearly knock down my friend,
Raising my little flag and shout as loud as I can.
I muse with hungry eyes
“I wish I can be as important as him!”
Date:9/07/16
Contest: Embrace the line (s)
ancients believed time lends...
any-chance for anything
anywhere that science be correct...
so its manifestations not crrrack
however two dozen ancient pyramids sank
into the sands unlike the boats of plank...
that carried the stones across distances
to the desert locale of historic instances...
of stone creations built to float on sand...
ancients science and mathematics was something grand
stan sand
Every word uttered in the mad rush of a day,
Journeys back to haunt me in the dark’s calm.
Those that /occurred with him bears no exception.
Stuck with regret over petty fights that doth not warrant a cut
Yet, so happened.
The resplendent ray of sunshine,
That illuminates a particularly boring two dozen hours,
Will surely not be shunned by beating hearts of any type.
Such and more was his smile,
Sweeping swiftly through the vast expanse of the populace unhindered,
Portraying no exceptions,
Albeit me.
***My Day Yesterday***
Woke at 5 a.m., but oddly then forgot
To gaze alert to the sun’s rising.
Went for my bi-yearly do at the beauty
Salon where a young woman tired her arm
Waving a wand over me for nearly three
Hours. I emerged mesmerized, merry,
But of course, not like I once was,
For the once-and-future dreams don’t
Endure, tho do abide other ambits.
I opined on my decline as I pet the pups, passing hours
Choosing fabrics while I listened to TV
News to be sure Europe was still there;
Had sweet potatoes and salmon for
Supper, which I think I thought was luncheon;
Handled emails with friends; heard
Two-dozen scam phone calls ring on unanswered;
Looked out my window, so sad as I’d missed
The fall of dusk; sighed; reached for
A pastel at midnight — too late to begin
— I sent hushed regrets to my canvas;
Pulled over my blanket with a prayer
Unable to recall closing my eyes.
——————————————————————————————
(c) sally youngeslinger 2/11/22
Thanks be to God…
THE HAPPY HOLIDAY CHOCOLATE MONSTER
Her name was Maureen o Leary,
she could not get out of the house,
Her feeder was a man called Timmy,
He was as quiet as a mouse,
She had been bedridden for nearly three years now ,
It took her an hour to raise even a smile ,
Meal times were quite an achievement ,
And usually took quite a while,
Breakfast was two packs of bacon ,
A loaf of bread and two dozen eggs ,
It was Timmy who did all the running ,
No wonder he had such short stumpy legs
Lunchtime was three hours later,
Normally six fish and eight bags of chips,
Timmy would feed her so lovingly ,
Then kiss the grease of her fat hairy lips .
Holidays were never an option
Let’s be honest now where would they go,
Timmy driving round in his camper van ,
Maureen on a trailer in tow,
So their holidays consisted of chocolate,
And they used quite a lot I can say ,
A van brought it round in the morning ,
Then she consumed it all through the day
For a treat Tummy would bathe her in chocolate ,
Then lick it all off her skin,
Paying particular attention
To the pool that formed in her chin ,
This went on for some time
till her heart gave up from the strain ,
They tried but they could not budge her ,
so she was melted and poured down the drain
CHRISTOPHER, BLAIR AND CLAIRE
Young Blair was a shy boy,
Somewhat a nerd,
He just simply could not make a friend,
The nursery school teacher,
Who was my mum,
Enjoyed her job so,
She was never glum.
Christopher was the lively one in the class,
There was a seesaw and jungle gym
On the grass,
Teacher told Christopher to please
Play with Blair,
Christopher asked, may I also bring Claire?
Claire was Christopher’s imaginary friend,
She was real to Christopher,
He didn’t pretend!
Break time, teacher and helpers were about,
As two dozen screaming children ran out!
Christopher very mischievous,
Thought of a plan
Quite excited, he said to himself, I’ll do it
Tomorrow if I can!
The next day,
He took something out of his school case
Put it in his pocket and showed a bland face.
Break time was very soon
Christopher thought,
And hid behind his back what
He had brought!
He whispered all, to imaginary Claire,
Don’t be afraid silly,
You sound too goody, goody and frilly!
He went up to Blair,
And put out his hand,
Do you really want to be my friend?
Then eat this, Blair desperately wanted
To be his friend,
So took a very big bite and went quite red
Blair spluttered and cried,
And gave everyone, a huge fright.
Teacher ran to the scene and found a
Half bitten chilli
Lying on the ground,
But Christopher was nowhere around,
He couldn’t be found!
I’m on fire teacher, the poor
Young boy said,
As his nose also bled!
Teacher had already phoned
The local doctor,
Christopher was now hiding, the little actor
Blair was asthmatic, which was another
Contributing factor!
Plump Doctor Dawson, said Blair
Would be fine,
Teacher did a headcount as the
Children fell into line,
She had a lost child, was about to
Call the police,
When Christopher appeared,
He wanted to make peace!
I’m sorry teacher he said, but girls
Are really naughty,
Claire made me do this terrible deed,
Which was grotty!
Christopher then offered Blair a hand,
Covered in grease,
The two boys wanted their cold war
To cease!
Being yet a child, and still with innocence,
Christopher said to imaginary Claire,
Come over here, and play
With me and Blair!
This is a true Story