I wish I could hide
and shed my tears in quiet
but the corn have ears
Categories:
cornfield, emotions,
Form: Haiku
WINTER IN AN IOWA CORNFIELD
Why start nattering about lucky tracks
Neath a tarnished night of a waning storm?
Haystacks in a disciplined platoon wait
With hooded coats, caves of hibernation,
Standing in formation with watchfulness.
Six columns and six rows of perfection
Thirty-six baled soldiers in transition
Marching forward in a biting snow storm,
Blindly floundering in a final surge.
A good resistance fighter is lonely.*
Haystacks in the Snow, Grant Wood (1941)
* Winter in Wartime, Jan Terlouw (1972)
Categories:
cornfield, america, art, metaphor, poems,
Form: Ekphrasis
Crows hold a meeting on their usual perch.
I thought you were a scarecrow yells his cousin, Birch.
The Scarecrow is not embarrassed, he has confidence galore.
The crows are my friends, you see, now and forever more.
That is not the way of the straw, you are going against your clan.
I am not intentionally messing up my parents and ancestral plan.
But the crows trust me, I am their go-to-perch, you see.
It makes all of them happy, the scarecrow said, and I am free.
Categories:
cornfield, october,
Form: Rhyme
camouflaged nature
cornfield dormouse sleeping sound
silken web shimmers
Categories:
cornfield, nature,
Form: Haiku
Before it is posted on Facebook and everyone knows
I peed in an Iowa cornfield at the beginning of some rows.
It was an absolute necessity under direst of circumstance
My brother took the picture showing my unique little dance.
And, no, I don’t make a habit of that sort of unseemly activity
But when “you gotta go, you gotta go,” a traveling man’s proclivity.
So, when you see my backside with front facing those rows of corn
Be very thankful I was clothed, not posed like the day I was born!
And since the photograph does not show my face full frontal
I can always deny the whole incident with a thorough disgruntle.
written August 23, 2021
Categories:
cornfield, humorous, vacation,
Form: Couplet
Inspired by Sunshine Smile’s “Escape From Reality.”
And also Caren Krutsinger who plays with imagination.
LOST IN THE CORNFIELD
Why
do I
wanna
get lost
in the cornfield
At
first because
it is new
and exciting,
not knowing
what
to expect
Later
they are filled up
with fog,
and monsters
My husband
has no interest
in playing the game
I want to take
the teen
and little guy
into the fray
A sideline:
while on the haywagon
at the back
of the field
some thing lobbed
a corncob
at the driver
We head out,
i glance back,
like a teen, pink with excitement.
missed out.
Probably
not all that…
But that is my adult voice
speaking up ~
Shhhhhhhh
11/2/2020
Categories:
cornfield, children, fun,
Form: Free verse
On comfy, pillowed couches
We sat and watched the setting sun beyond the cornfield
Blanketing the meadows of greens and golds
Pastel hues emerged, in pinks and purples
Signaling the end of another beautiful summer's day
Cradled by the gentle song of cricket chirps and waterfall trickles
Night fell upon us
Sharing stresses and worries and similar stories
The warm, August breeze permeated and embraced the troubled hearts and minds of both of us
We chatted till the early hours of morn
Correlating and catching up
Just like old times
While the beauty of a cornfield sunset
And a moonlit serenade
Soothed the wounds of two forever friends
August 23, 2020
@katladyt_
Categories:
cornfield, august, friendship, hope, solitude,
Form: Free verse
SCARECROW IN THE CORNFIELD
He stands watch both day and night
To look at him is quite a fright
A lonely sentinel standing there
His eyes fixed in an open stare
He knows he has a job to do
The crows are many, not a few
He must keep them scared away
Otherwise, there'll be no pay
For all the corn spread o'er the field
The scarecrow's presence ensures a yield
He stands watch just so you know
He'll be on guard come rain or snow
So when you sit down at the table to dine
And feast on corn as good as fine wine
Let your friends and family know
They owe it all to an old scarecrow
3 November 2018
For the contest sponsored by Jesse Rowe
Categories:
cornfield, farm, food, funny, scary,
Form: Couplet
KING IN A CORNFIELD
When my effigy was impaled
for all to see
yours, on the other hand found a place to hide
around the outer edges of my grotesque.
And while you laugh at stories of my eccentricities
it affords you the luxury the concealment of your own cracks.
On this crazy treadmill that you build, I flesh out the fantasies, so you can sit in front row bewilderment at this at me your neon-reflected selves.
You said its necessary the blindfolds so in leg shackles
my choreography out on the gang-plank.
As long as you remain with me
on this thin film this frozen lake as long as the
cheers reverberate and I don’t have to come to my senses
to watch from a distance two projected shadows at the end of the cul-de-sac
dancing in sync
as long as I don’t have to see you
as you as you dissecting:
scornful fingers
sifting through
the distended
caricature
of
a
king
in
a
cornfield.
Categories:
cornfield, hurt,
Form: Free verse
The cornstalks vanished overnight
Shaven fields once flowing, green and gold
Now Dad’s evening whisker stubble
Ghost limbs of the cornfield
Flocks of nomadic Ravens
Feast on the invisible
And scowl with those empty black eyes
Impervious to man’s judgment
And I think,
There is nothing as beautiful
Than the first snow on a barren field
Shadows playing with the evening light
And dance among the vacant mounds
Categories:
cornfield, autumn, environment, poetry, seasons,
Form: Free verse
Dust flew from crisp corn stalks as she fell to beaten knees
She raised her callus stricken hands towards the heavens
Painfully smiling due to a sunburned soul and age
Angels sung hymns while gently playing strings of the winds tranquil zephyrs
God whispered in her ear as she wept gratified tears
I finally understand
In memory of my Ms. Anne-May.
Categories:
cornfield,
Form: Free verse