Best Woodcutter Poems
Jim was a lumberjack from Borehamwood
A chainsaw mishap took off his manhood
His Love life was a mess
He now suffers from stress
So he made himself one out of oak wood .
He went to bed one night full of desire
Sue his wife put on her sexy attire
Things got steamy and hot
He gave it all he got
But with the friction his oak thing caught fire .
His poor wife shouted " For crying out loud"
The poor woodcutter no longer stood proud
His once oaken member
Was a glowing ember
A blackened stump he's no longer endowed.
The smoke alarms in the house all went off
Sue and Jim splutterd and started to cough
Fire men broke down the door
Saw Jim's dong on the floor
Couldn't believe Jim had used it to boff.
So every night when they both go to bed
They both read books and watch TV instead
Then he had a great thought
And the next day he bought
A ten inch piece of pipe made out of lead.
In his workshop he worked on it all day
The next night asked Sue "Well what do you say"
She couldnt help laughing
At the size of his thing
She said" You're not coming near me, no way. "
Written on the 9th June 2020
Cuckoos hushed, rambling vines and plight.
Hordes of birch, beech, pine, spruce and oak.
Choke of darkness, forcing midnight.
Wax and breadcrumbs children-ditched folks.
Hordes of birch, beech, pine, spruce and oak.
Hansel and Gretel, frightened, twitch
Wax and breadcrumbs. Children-ditched folks -
Woodcutter built house for a witch.
Hansel and Gretel, frightened twitch
Of laced-up fingers spot the
Woodcutter-built-house for a witch.
Tasty-sweet, they eat what they see.
Of laced-up fingers, spot the
Craving, clinging to witch’s house.
Tasty-sweet, they eat what they see.
An hungry old woman they rouse.
Craving, clinging to witch’s house,
Sticky-mess invited in by
An hungry old woman. They rouse
Her wrinkles and warts. The bat lies.
Sticky-mess invited in by
Deception. It’s not a love-in.
Her wrinkles and warts - The bat lies
In wait to bake in the oven.
Deception. It’s not a love-in
Handing the pan, asking succour.
Why wait to bake in the oven?!
Tries to fool girl. Wants to bake her.
Handing the pan, asking succour.
In 1940’s, the earthface fell pale.
Tries to fool girl. Wants to bake her.
Grimm’s prophecy no fairytale.
In 1940’s, the earthface fell pale,
Choke of darkness, forcing midnight.
Grimm’s prophecy no fairytale.
Cuckoos hushed, rambling vines and plight.
1/23/2021
Proud Pantoum
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
I remember that place
in green pastures called home.
But where are you now
“Union Yard, Britton Holm”
Deep in reams of memories
indelible you lay,
reposed at the helm
of a life rushing by.
Guess i’ve played life’s
generation game,
yet somehow you appeared the same!
Misguided my mind
in local pursuit,
when reminded
one does not belong,
the only stranger there was i.
Sometimes I try to tell myself
that life yesteryear was never real,
just a fantasy of one’s youth
the way I use to feel.
“But you are so astute”
No one to change nature’s way
when every step together we retraced,
“Only the human race it seems fluctuates.”
From time to time
the dream awakes, then swiftly abates,
even the memories seem to fall
like autumn leaves
that swirls within the gutter,
when I see urbanization,
spread its wing
like some gigantic woodcutter!
Alas no more the sight
no more the sound
no more the light,
in this life to be found
in that foundation called home,
the last bastion of my folks,
only a memory of love
and a mind at will to evoke!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
FRED
Fred the farmer he bought a new tractor
The milk maid he wanted to attract her
He said you wanna ride
So she jumped in beside
Said tis slow can't it go any faster .
SAUL
In ancient times the killer Saul Porters
Was better known as the 'beast who slaughters'
Folks heard a victim shout
Saul was seized and knocked out
They hung him and cut him into quarters.
JOHNNY
An old gunmaker called Johnny Aled
Was testing one of his guns in his shed
The firing pin jamned
He said I'll be dammed
Shook the barell and it blew off his head.
CHARLES
A two timer by the name of Charles Fring
Was with a hooker in bed doing their thing
Thought he'd switched off his phone
Then heard screams and a moan
Twas still on and his wife heard everything.
MING SO
A hammer thrower from China, Ming So
At the games it was her turn to throw
She swung it around
Her feet left the ground
With excitement she'd forgot to let go.
RANDY MONK
There was a randy old monk from Biscay
With others wives liked to romp in the hay
With a smile and a grin
Said free loves not a sin
His Abbot didn't quite see it that way.
WOODCUTTER
There was a woodcutter from Tralee
Showed no mercy when hacking a tree
But the tree fought back
And in the attack
Broke his jaw, lower back and left knee.
TRAPPER
Into the woods he went hunting for bear
By sheer bad luck disturbed a grizzlys lair
Ran down the hill in fear
Smell of bear was quite near
Caught his foot in another trappers snare.
Written 25th August 2019.
Have leaves that remain still;
Give shade to all, with good will;
Of ego, am free
Am a silly old tree.
A vehicle comes near;
His pall of smoke I do fear;
Need to give more oxygen;
In turn for a little pollution!
Of ego, am free
Am a silly old tree.
A weary traveler comes, with hunger in pursuit
And gladly picks up a juicy fruit
Does the name of Isaac Newton ring a bell?
His wisdom spoke, because my fruit fell?
Of ego, am free
Am a silly old tree.
Use my leaves for house
Tap my bark for some gum;
Am here to serve you
In all this world's humdrum
Of ego, am free
Am a silly old tree.
Nay, my friend shed no tear;
On the morrow, the woodcutter comes near;
Will give him my best shade;
Even though he will use the blade;
Of ego, am free
Am a silly old tree.
With many a blow of his mighty axe clear;
Now will become firewood for his dear;
Of ego, am free
Am a silly old tree.
A sincere request from the tree;
Plant me and be ego free;
Of ego, am free
Am a silly old tree.
Neglecting the sun-rays
She comes here each day
Approaches to see the rabbit hole,
Ignoring the fear of animals
As her swain once committed her,
He will come here to meet her again.
Flowers emaciated, Trees withered,
Following the cursed- strong storm;
Cascades are no more watering,
Still drought can’t lock her in,
Birds don’t fly now in this sky;
But rainbows reminds her of him
Counting the seven colors,
She knits her trance that
The prince will emerge yet again.
That day he came on unicorn,
While sleeping soundly on her mom’s lap,
A bouquet of flower, box of love candies,
He said, he loves and would love her forever;
Angelina, now knitting a sweater thinks...
What would match him more?
A maroon? No...Blue, nope it should be crimson
Hence their love is forever, yet a lot to endeavor,
Entering to the wood, she asks the woodcutter,
‘Have you seen my prince today?’
Negatively answers regularly the woodcutter,
But Angelina counts her days till the date.
The pitcher of her waist, she keeps with her
She thinks he (Prince) must be thirsting,
When the unicorn flies, thirstily the price almost dies,
But seldom has he got a moment to stop,
The well became dry; the time keeps on flying,
The prince never comes here to stop.
At last the pigeon comes, delivering the letter
The prince once died by the encounter.
Do you believe in miracles?
Do you believe in love?
Do you believe in magic?
And angels up above
Do you believe in happiness?
Or do you think its phrase
Would you believe it has?
Never come to me in days
Do you believe fairy tales?
In snow white and Cinderella
Do you believe in evolutions?
And that we came from a gorilla
Do you believe in mermaids?
That all the legends are true
For what ever you believe in
I will always believe in you
Do you believe in unicorns?
Pixy dust and peter pan
Do you believe a spider bite?
Can turn you into spider man
What about Alice in wonder land
And hickory duck with the clocks
The ginger bread man
And three bears and Goldie locks
Do you believe in Rapunzel?
That she really had long hair
And jack and the beanstalk
Big bad wolf and baby bear
Do you believe in superman?
And little red riding hood too
No matter what you believe in
I will always believe in you
Snow white and the seven dwarfs
Puss in boots and tinker bell
Do you believe in Pinocchio?
The woodcutter, Hansel and Gretel
Ali Baba and the fourty thieves
The pied piper of Hamelin
The little mermaid
And the flying carpet with jasmine
Sleeping beauty and the beast
The secret name of rumpelstiltskin
The frog price tree little pigs,
Thumbelina and the ugly ducklings
No matter what you believe in
No matter what you do
I give you my love and
I will always believe in you
One fine late midnight coils back the whole universe
And asks me in eager voice, what is the source of the race of man?
In sotto voice i whisper in his ears that it is God who created Adam first
Infuriated he becomes and rushed down with a loud bang
And spread all over like a huge carpet as if there is no end
Meanwhile he, in an isolated island, met with a bearded man
And learnt from him who learnt from a pecking woodcutter
That its beak is longer, sharper and stouter than rest of the birds
And this happens due to his repeated pecking
And he pecks repeatedly to fit in the policy of survival of the fittest
So far so nice except the mercilessness of the strong
In killing plundering and invading whoever is poor and weak
Here is not the end of the story;
It gave the breaded man more, a great hint
That life struggles to survive and struggling evolves into evolution
Pay attention to the great game, the race man is not from the race of man
Man is from monkey, so, all the monkeys are our forefathers
There is nothing wrong in it,
After all we are all respectful to our ancestors,
Sorry, to lovely monkeys except human beings.
Till this turn of logic there is no darkness
No end of the world,
We are only sons and daughters of monkeys and not the *****.
But there is a huge problem to the universe
Being confused he crawls secretly into my rooms before the night’s death
And charged me red faced why did I tell him a lie?
No, i did not tell you a lie, I answer
In fact we are both correct, he tells his story and I tell mine
Bluebell woods was the place to be on a frosty morn,
but quick enough I was not, as the woodcutter caught me
by the scruff.
Found the rabbits in my pack was told next time,
he would cleave me with his axe.
A while later I came across his daughter, I took her down by the lake
again and again
Nine months past and a bundle of joy,
was how I fixed the woodcutter and his daughter
Once upon a time in Baghdad
There lived two kids n their dad
The old man died
The sons sighed
They were Allibaba n cassim
They lived at a forests rim
Cassim married a rich girl
But aaladin a woodcutter married a poor girl
One day when aaladin went to cut wood
He overheard forty thieves from where he stood
They were planning to open their treasure house
Aaladin quickly climbed a tree so hes not seen poking his nose
They went to a cave n loudly said open SimSim
The cave opened but the light was dim
There lay before them treasures of the world
After they finished said close Sim Sim the doors
closed after they were heralded
Now Alladin came down n heralded them open for treasures
He collected a few treasures his joy was beyond measures
He borroed a scale from his brothers place
Brothers wife being clever stuck some wax under the scale in place
When he went to return the scales
Brother learnt of his treasures tales
Now Cassim went to try his luck
He collected his share but was stuck
Thieves returned they saw n killed him
Finding him missing went to get but found his bodys trim
With the help of a girl who took the body n sewed up his body
So about the type of his death would be guessed by nobody
Now the thieves finding the body missing knew
The cave was infilterated by a few
They approached the man who sewed Cassim
Asked him to tell them the brothers house n goaded him
Knowing about it they marked the house in one manner
But that girl was watching she marked all houses
n so none fell in their scanner
Now when one time they learnt who Alladin was
They planned to kill him without much pause
They brought forty cans filled with oil as a gift
In thirty eight thieves hid so to attack him whe the lid he would lift
The girl learnt of this she played a trick
She poured boiling hot liquid in each n they died
could not stick
Alladin gifted the girl a lot of wealth
And finally married her to his son as he had a sound mental health.
Here's the story of Hansel and Gretel
But, again, not like they said
Their's was way too humdrum
So, here's my version, instead
First, their father wasn't a woodcutter
He worked at the laundromat
He took quarters from the scrub boards
To make change and things like that
Hansel and Gretel weren't children
They were midgets from the Wizard of Oz
But this wasn't their first story
They first worked for a guy named Claus
Anyway, the witch was really a witch
That part of the story is true
But, this next part will be a surprise
And this, I promise you
Hansel and Gretel had been casing the joint
To rob that poor witch clean
They were the meanest two kid-lookin' midgets
That anyone had ever seen
Now, the witch was planning on eating them
Well, cause, that's what witches do
You really can't blame her for her cravings
She's just tired of pork rines and stew
She invited them in, they played some cards
It was time to execute her plan
She asked Hansel to check the oven
And she pushed him in the pan
Gretel was watching and knew what to do
As she jumped on the witch's back
Hansel pulled out his crossbow
It was time for him to attack
This next part is weird, you may not believe
But one day, maybe, you will
For while the battle was raging strong
Thru the door walked Dr Phil
"Can't we all just get along?" he said
As he proceded to stop the fight
It took him only a minute or two
To determine which one was right
They agreed to disagree
And go their separate ways
For Dr Phil had come to the rescue
And, again, he saved the day
Shudders the hill sky
Blood shed in Darjeeling on
The larks have vanished
Tea gardens are sad
Vultures jab among green leaves
They chip snowy peace
Gunshots in blue wind
Woodcutter birds make no holes
Hill dress torn to shreds
Intrastate conflict
Native ego reddening
Snakes out in summer
_________________________________________
June 23, 2017
A lonely oak sways to an autumn hymn
as the woodcutter mends her broken limb.
Note to reader: This is a two line couplet that tells the lovely story of a lonely woman who is found by a gentleman (hymn/him) in the autumn of his life. Instead of taking her down, like he may have done in his younger years, he mends her broken heart.
Submitted to #2 Couplet Contest
Hosted by L Milton Hankin
10/05/2021
Mother nature’s trees shudder in the breeze,
Clothed in ashened sky,bearing angry eye.
The winds conversation with birds to flock,
Branches of two trees interlock.
Angry eye is sporting black,
The fight for supremacy notoriously back.
Rabbits and squirrels retreat with their fear,
As an audience of trees lean as they peer.
Returning bird to referee,
The elderly tree resumes paying his fee.
His younger capture boasting minus concern,
As he thrashes with heavy twist and turn.
Wind is bullying close behind,
The elderly tree disadvantaged,he finds.
He creaks and groans,bleeding his sap,
Gentleman of the forest lye dead in rivers lap.
Succeeding opponent standing proud,
As a silent applause was never so loud.
Wisdom now is all that remains,
As the woodcutter starts to sharpen his blades.
Tightened by rope in the woodcutters truck,
It’s not the end,he’s back in luck!
Now he’s sitting front of house,
In a swanky restaurant in London Town.
All admire as they prop,
If only they knew the story from the top.
As they sip their drinks with chatter,
A distant sound of trees will clatter.
The woodcutter and puppeteer
once lived
in coexistence
although unknown
craft left hidden
strings quietly rewoven
In past life
the woodcutter
was greedy
and when threatened
by possibility
cut the strings
holding together
glue and wax
The puppeteer planned
and they quarreled
until the woodcutter
lost their glue
and the strings
once cut
held together
something new
The woodcutter
lost of shop
gave his best
creations away
some ending in bin
others being displayed
One special butterfly
beautiful in color
and shape
was held in a box
tucked away
from wandering hands
alone in peaceful damnation
A leaf
fluttered through a crack
into the windless box
settling next to
the caged
and the butterfly’s box
no longer seemed so
sad
The butterfly’s box
once so dark
now held life
and the leaf sat
it’s delicate veins
and soft green edges
crinkling with age
For seven days
the puppeteer took no notice
of the invaded space
until thought spoke
and the leaf
was demanded gone
The box opened
and nothing could
be done
as the strings pulled
and the leaf
was set to the wind
floating from view
The strings
had never seemed
so bad
until the box
again seemed
more a cage
than before the leaf
had lain in light
The butterfly
now drooped
with paint chipped
and color faded
again would new life come
and again
would the strings pull
until cracked butterfly
didn’t seem so beautiful
and would be
released
from its box
April 20, 2021