Cellar Poems

Rats in the Cellar

Rats in the cellar, squirrels in the tree,
things aren't the same as they used to be.

When I left for school with my li'l lunch pail,
I didn't expect a penguin to swallow a whale.

Such an injustice, I've never seen,
a cantaloupe falsely imprisoned a bean.

It's unheeded screams, uncontrolled laughter,
when it's trolls that live happily ever after.

Doors off their

Cellar Magic

Like wine
deep in the racks
poems 
carefully age
Each of a
vintage
a time and a place
— labeled to consume

(The Rathskeller: July, 2015) 

Miller Far Thriller and Cellar

That's the trouble with her Miller:
Lots of fancy for fine killer,
Yeah not Real Life - The safe thriller
But it's no Decent Time filler,
Millers remembrance of thriller
The time wise neighbour turns tiller
And one they 've got in James Bila,
In the past fond of Godzilla,
Now in their church a strong pillar...

"Oh! Why had I accepted Miller
For thriller

Klausie Little

Klaus is a ravening louse
WHO is his edict-ing house
Where he whips errant fantasy out
There he acts world bell-weather
Strutting and foaming of mouth

His offering Though's really small
A magnifier; here is the call.'
The maiden did shout
What's the slug all about?
So he slid through a crack in the wall

The Basement Cellar

The window is long and narrow,
the casement-sill a brooding lid far overhead.
The glass is dirty, thick, and warped.
It is not a window made to see through.

People live in higher rooms; they dwell in the light,
they clatter down the staircase,
their shoes tap and thud on the pavement above.
Footsteps fade into a settling dusk.

Half a century later,

The Birthing of Monsters

There’s a boy in the cellar with a stone in his mouth.
In the stone is a bird.
In the bird is a future unhatched, unborn, unclean.
Unbeknownst to the world, he is dead.

In the dark there is laughter from faces unseen.
It is here you will stay and alone in this place you will
dwell. 
With them. 
With it.

Cellar Holes

We used to hike abandoned roads
O’er which they once hauled heavy loads. 
Roads deserted, now ragged lines
Just deep ruts between the pines.
Stone walls still trace these rugged tracks
Defining paths to there and back.
Meandering trails now no one roams
But long ago they lead to homes
No longer there, those long lost souls 
Their homes in ruins, now

The Cellar

The creaky old stairs disappear
Enveloped by the darkness down below
There lies an evil toxic place
He said you never ever want to go

He said he's pulled by a neurotic compulsion
That whispers incessantly in his mind
He fervently tries to fight it
Next thing he knows, he’s deep inside

He said there's solace in the quiet
All of the anxious voices

The Cellar Circa 1953

Dust covered webs clinging to longevity
oily dirt floors aching to feel the sun
hanging pull string lights swing
eerie shadows a-dance on coal blackened wood
creaking boards arthritic lament
stone walls weeping in the dark
 

©10/10/2019

Goosebumps Poetry Contest

The Adjective Cellar

The Adjective Cellar

Nestling smugly twixt pepper and salt
The adjective cellar begins its assault
When carelessly picked by some epicure
Who sadly considers himself connoisseur

Once the poor dinner guest flips up the top
The words tumble out, they’re awkward to stop
They bounce on the table and under the chairs
And yelling and screaming they bound up the stairs

Normally nouns are

That Cellar Door

There is a woodpile in my in-laws’ cellar, and some coal, but other rumored things also.
And it has been there a long time since anyone tripped down these broken concrete steps.
Maybe twenty or thirty years; we inherited this home a long time ago.
We have sold it four times on contract,
which has fallen through again.
My husband

Go In the Cellar and Bring Up the Jam

1/4 C OF BRONW SUGAR
1/4 C HONEY
1/4 C  SWEET CHILI PASTE
1/4 C CHOPPED CANDIED GINGER
3 TABLESPOONS OF SWEET WINE
1 TABLESPOON OF ONION POWDER
1 TABLESPOON GARLIC POWDER
2 TABLESPOONS OF LEMON JUICE
..........................................................................................................

1 TO 2 POUNDS OF COUNTRY HAM
2 C BUTTERMILK

SOAK HAM IN BUTTERMILK, OVERNGHT OR FOR 2-3 HOURS, TOWEL DRY AND BAKE FOR 30--45 MINUTES.
WHILE HAM

Cellar Dwellers

Silencing the voices of discontent
You're fired message sent

Yates was the first to go
Evidence of Collusion she did show

The great investigation of collusion
Now they beg for its conclusion

The leader Comey of the FBI
Damaging statements Russia did spy

Special agent McCabe of the FBI
Fired because he may have told a lie

Agent Strzok text we'll stop trump
Fired next on

In the Cellar

In the cellar of my heart, the best wine of life I keep: Friendship! 






© Demetrios Trifiatis
    16 April 2016

Cellar Door

Cellar Door


The word cellar door, may paint a cold, dark image,
But the two words together, are simply magnificent.
They roll off the tongue, like a red silk carpet
And when you find something so beautiful, 
You should not forget it.


For cellar door, I simply adore,
For it's a connection of words, that are simply beautiful.
Two words together, that

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