Best Yarn Poems
"I've got sunshine"
TANKA~ 1
This heavyweight wind
jiggles the chimes limbs hanging
sensitively
a thousand sound waves invade
visible radiation
~~~~~
TANKA~ 2
Dark moonlight tempest
blunders off the mountain top
a massive flooring…
the courageous beam of light
saved souls upon meadow blades
~~~~~
TANKA ~3
A place called daylight
where the beam is always pure
luminescence
if you could only feel this
you’d ask to hold the torchlight
~~~~~
TANKA~ 4
Somewhere were you sleep
the fluorescence substance light
absorbs your beauty
every second that you breath
the light becomes like sunshine
~~~~~
TANKA ~5
Sky of falling stars
belong in my diary
notification
renewing my wedding vows
sunshine begins with me
~~~~~
TANKA~ 6
Missed the snooze button;
pendulum rods tick out loud
morning bird and worm;
sunlit curtains smooth rays
anonymous melody
~~~~~
TANKA ~7
Two rainbows petals
peek outside with loneliness
against no sunlight
rainy weather condition
no color will bring you back
~~~~~
by;PD
10-10-12
for: contest
When we were young boys on our farm.
A fish tale never meant any harm,
We oft were given a look,
When from such a tiny brook,
We claimed a fish as long as your arm.
But then our neighbor named Meg,
Beat the fib and put us down a peg,
By claiming from the same brook,
With not a worm on her hook,
She caught a fish as long as your leg!
Well that truth was quite hard to beat,
Then Summer beat a hasty retreat.
Winter changed the fishing world,
Meg turned from tomboy to girl.
And now this fishing tale is complete!
For John Freeman's "Fishing Limericks"
When words don't help
Knit and purl the agony out
Your hands will learn how
10/6/11
Inspired by Ann Hood's book "The Knitting Circle" (one of the saddest books I have ever read)
There's a little town in Ouyen Vic.'' Under 1200 people so
I'll tell you bout aspects; of it sort'a quick!
There's Clarys slate bush etching, in three d real fine.!
And a little hairdressers that comes to mind.?
The conveniance store.' And theres some more.!
Like the old English banknotes found under
Its timber hall floor.' Also Kingdon chickens thats out a bit'
Where I worked a time 'come to think of it?' There
Was that pet Emu..Dang! I've forgot its name?
It would steal your food, just take it plain.' Away
From your hand, on the way to your mouth!!
Maybe thats the reason i left the South? I reckon
I'll get back there one of these days..And lay a
A fresh sandwich upon that old birds grave.!
For the sake of his embarrassment we wont use his real name.
Because telling tall stories is how he has won his fame.
Now Luke is a legend, at least in his own mind
and no matter the topic, a story he'd be able to find.
Like the time he was out in the bay fishing from his boat.
A tiger shark lept out to take his bait clean down it's throat.
Luke struggled for hours until the rod he could hold no more.
He jumped in, took the shark by the tail and steered it to shore.
You can be sure if it happened to you, it happened to Luke first.
Be it an injury or illness, he always got it the worst.
If you had a flat tyre, no doubt Luke would have got four.
Or you lost a wallet full of money, Luke certainly lost more.
He told a magnificent story of a rusty mini he got from a mate.
Fixed it all up and under the bonnet dropped in a big V8.
Turned out it was the fasted car in the State to be found.
A magazine did a story, when he finds it again, he'll bring it round.
If at the end of a story you said, "Luke that simply isn't true."
He'd hold fast to his recollection until his face turned blue.
A tenuous thread of a fact would be woven into his tale.
Of which he would rely if all other argument of support did fail.
How dull it would be without a Luke in your life.
Who could captivate with a yarn laced with adventure and strife.
An imaginative mind, who at will can regale a good story.
Just for a little attention, with the hope of reigning in some glory.
fun with the ball
red, yellow, black, white fuzz
tangled paws
The Kitty Cat Poetica
I was a miserable case
For treasure there wasn't a trace
It made me quite moody
'Til she showed me her booty
Now there's a smile on my face
A trail taut with torment
Fraught with threads afray
Once fastidious, your intricacies so fervent
Now cease to self-fascinate and fade away.
I washed away your beauty as I
drank all you had to give,
For I was poor and lonely,
While you were all-too-quick to forgive.
A fool, in an all-you-can-eat fools buffet,
I was too quick
To take what you were freely
giving away.
Now unwound the truth unfolds,
To show the sew sawed and severed.
A final, swansong voice to those untolds.
My core torn, our souls entwined, your sanity...
Untethered.
Come hear me yarn of leprechauns
A thieving little folk,
That left me laying by me pond
Asleep beneath me oak.
They came about the midnight hour
To lay me cupboard bare,
And then they used their magic powers
Me vision to impair.
They ate me apples I had dried
And hung there in the sun,
Then took me crumpets that I fried
And even got me buns!
As if them apples weren't enough
Me pecans vanished too,
The devils even pinched me snuff
Before the raid was through.
They danced about on moonlit beams
Then scampered 'cross me rug,
That's when the rascals came it seems
'Twas halfway through me jug!
Timothy I. Brumley
A thousand stars shone down that night
On the whaling ship Nancy Lee
Who set her sails and floated away
On the beautiful crystal sea
She rocked back and forth on the crest of a wave
Under an orange moon
And the men on her deck
Sang harbor songs
With the lilt of an Irish tune
At dawn's first light
The crew arose
And gazing out to the east
Spotted a whale of mighty girth
A large, magnificent beast
The ship grew close in the rising sun
That wrapped the sea in gold
As the men on the deck
Grew excited for
The adventure to unfold
Then out of nowhere came a wave
Like a monster from the deep
That thrust itself around the boat
Which caused the men to leap
The ocean growled and tore the sail
The canvass pulling free
Just like a growling, hungry bear
That swallowed the Nancy Lee
The twenty eight men lie on the floor
Of the dark and mysterious deep
And amongst the wreck of their beloved ship
They rest in a peaceful sleep
When asked
The traffic rider
That streetwise acrobat
How
He knew without a prior
When a driver would do that
This performer replied
Spinning
With some pattern recognition
After long
Is spun
Into chaos intuition
The sky is falling on Wall Street
All manner of right and wrong
Going not going going on indeed
Just pay the piper for his song
A radio echoes from empty homes
The shadows ascend the stairs
Past the wing joint savings and loan
Past the fog of frigid coal kissed air
Sickly sweet teat fed romances
Yarns of truth so fat and round
A blind man could see it with both hands
Sure as thorns on a martyrs crown
After all that is meaningful we find
What nearly kills us makes us nervous
That sight is dearest to the blind
And we only see what serves us
Removing his temporal cataract
Death watches the days and hours
Providing what our lives lack
Incorruptible stopping power
Life’s a slow fall toward the grave
Hold your hands up and enjoy
The company of the brave
Whose dreams we do not destroy
Saunters along, nonchalance
Dimpled craggy chin, cracks a wrinkled grin
eye slits that see beneath, within
casino cards, in his jacket coat
his past, a lot said and wrote
whiskey drinks, smoke filled rooms
pallid, dubious men, the mark, fate looms
poker face that smile beguiles
“Frank the Devils Croupier”
deft hands, cards flew across the table
they all did fall, to card magic
his taipan strikes, fast and slick
was coined get “Dizzy” legendary
Texas Holdems sudden death
High rollers, anxieties shallow breaths
Turn card, tails flick, fat cats wile then wait
fish and whales swim through the losers gate
So the millionaires did agree
to pay Frank royally
retirement from the game
So if your up for a yarn do stop
At “Get Dizzy I’m All In” Coffee Shop
drinking taipan coffee shots, he’s that guy
smiles at people walking by
Entered “Bring a Character to Life” Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamourex
Dated 25/08/2019
Placed 3rd with thanks
Yarn In A Barn
While we were spinning a big ball of yarn,
What before my eyes did appear in a barn
Was weird;
Always feared;
Worn shirt with a tare did have to darn.
You could be like Trump telling stories
while spinning a yarn.
Jim Horn
Like a knitted farm blanket,
September's sun covers us.
Rolled up yarnballs are
haybales stacked and stored.
Click-clacking needles echo
horses' hooves, hurried hush.
Summer unravels like a glitch
in the pattern, only to become
a loop in the autumn purl.