1
Sometimes the mind becomes a dragonfly,
brushing against the petals of a water lily,
while a heron stands on one leg, lost in meditation.
2
Over the fence of the jasmine garden,
night-flowering jasmine falls into my courtyard,
softly, drop by drop.
3
A butterfly has slipped into the weaver's room,
and suddenly
the whole place flashes with colour.
4
A city morning. Along the asphalt road,
here and there,
water snails have crawled out of the drains.
5
Beside the cremation ground
where my father and mother were laid to rest,
a periwinkle stands laden with flowers.
6
Upon the face
of a gravestone
rests a red dragonfly.
7
On the fallen trunk
of an uprooted tree,
new leaves gather the morning sun.
8
In the middle of the fields, a shrine to Manasa;
beside the Brahmin priest,
a motorcycle.
9
A Poush night. The northerly wind cuts through.
People in distress light a fire with scraps of wood,
trying to chase away the cold.
10
In the month of Chaitra,
drumstick pods hang from the branches,
like the sticks of a dhak.
I thanked Autumn because I am delusional, I guess
She did not show me any gratitude, she is kind of a mess
The turkey in me was annoyed at my polite tradition of thanking
She did not appreciate it, in fact, made fun of me with pranking
I wished I could take my thank you back but my gobble gook
Did not make Autumn turn around, she is kind of a leftover spook
A wish bone warning in my football-playing head
said to eat my pride and take the thank you back instead
Casserole of leaves lying on the forest floor gave a little laugh
Drumstick dances of the squirrels were prancy at least by half
the oak tree had a carved heart that showed me what to do
Abundance threw herself into the ring, we were a parade of two
Mom's fried chicken, crispy fine
tender and juicy
steaming first delicious bite
dripping down my chin
hot drumstick beckons
licking lips
crunch!
I catch junk with a stick
Whip it like batter
Make it thick
Set it firm in an oven brick
A sleight-of-hand trick
Flipping a well-rehearsed schtick
Pulling it out of the fire quick
Cool…then plate with a crispy breadstick
Sink your teeth in…taste the kick
A feast of rhyme…a bold remix
Juicy lyrics on a drumstick
like beating a drumstick she beats her own heart. she bashes it around by lending it to others, but the wood splinters striking people. what people don’t know is that is just her hard front personality being worn away, to reveal the vulnerable raw stick underneath. the stick that used to beat to others hearts and had to be repaired again and again by the damage others did. they wore all of it away until it was bare. no one can see a drumsticks broken until it snaps. until it is undesirable and unable to be used any longer. even then people take beats out of it for fun, slowly hitting snapping her heart. can no one see her drumstick is bare, that it is all an illusion. but everyone is too concerned with their own drums to care about this one.
You can make humor
Out of drumstick to a mic
A funny blooper.
Decapitated turkey
Heart attack on a drumstick
Thanksgiving dinner
Bad for everyone
We try not to think of the head being cut off
or where the cooks hands have been
'Round table we sat that fine day
With turkey all carved on a tray.
She grabbed that drumstick
She wanted to lick!
Our nine-month grandbaby- HOORAY!
November 19, 2022
~3rd Place~
Contest: A Fun Holiday Limerick
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Judged: 11/24/2022
(True Memory- Photo Above!)
I decided to get a preview of the Thanksgiving leftovers.
Anticipating the humans suffering from day-after-hangovers.
Lucky for me, someone left the frig open a crack.
I slid in there and laid down under the largest full rack.
I started on the pie, it was super delicious of course.
Save some for me yelled a voice; it sounded like a miniature Norse.
stuffing smells delicious, if there is one spice I love it is sage.
I could pig out here forever. I’ve been here an hour, I’d gauge.
The door opened slowly, and I tumbled onto the floor.
The cook in the kitchen was so angry, I got kicked out the door.
I did not care, because in each of my fists was a drumstick so round.
My fat bottom saved me as I landed squarely on November’s ground.
I’ll be back next year! I yelled to my neighbor Mrs. McFur.
She was on the phone to my mother, complaining, I am sure.
A turkey flew over the cuckoo's nest.
A net overhead - flight was not his best.
Caught in the buff.
Now life is rough.
Overhears them drooling for drumstick and breast.
11/3/2022
DIMASH THE SHEPHERD
(Story of One Sky Conclusion)
I am
Shepherd
Cloaking myself
In God’s soft simplicity
My tasks complete
Songs sung
Light shone
Souls ignited
Each day seven wheels
Revolved their full degrees
Now the Awakening
know that Love is the Strike
of Light on the sleep
of a hundred thousand
years of wrenching knots
I return to You
to dissolve again
in your gentle
Ecstasy of knowing
Yourself as Voice
Each of Your atoms
in a chant or falsetto
resonated in freedom’s
True radiant White
How you ached to know
if You could go further
than planets not yet discovered
You did through each of my
Harmonic breathes
Now I’m done to
cuddle frolicking lambs
and hold my staff
as heaven’s drumstick
It will beat the
silent space between
Resonating genes
You are well pleased
Our art of evolution
continues to vibrate
in every fingertip
each sea-sponge and
Sand grain
Refreshed I will descend
then ascend again
as You instruct
to expose muted layers
My F-sharps alchemising
wolves with nightingales
I bow to You
As I hood !
©ghairodaniels2022
Pickle, Pickle, what a tickle!
Your sour face makes me fickle.
Please remind me about the game;
Your salty face made me forget my name.
Carrot pickle arrived early,
She was wearing a light bikini,
She was hanging like Houdini
On wagging tail of a pony.
Onion pickle arrived in a car,
His pungent face had a fresh scar,
To garlic pickle he had a war
'cause his mother is a vampire.
Drumstick pickle arrived late,
He was too hungry, he didn't eat;
He didn't know how to hold his plate,
He had no hands, just all legs.
The other pickles arrived later,
To the party they were so eager,
They were barking like Justin Bieber
'cause Pacquiao defeated Mayweather.
Soon the venue was like a scramble,
The odors mixed like a juggle;
The waiters could not endure the stink,
They all went home without a blink.
The pickles danced, the pickles sang,
The music rolled, the music rang,
They didn't care about the fuzz,
While the outside world made a buzz.
September 5, 2022
ONE FROM THE DARK SIDE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
I met a jolly fisherman with hair as white as snow.
Everywhere he sailed his ship, the kids were sure to go.
He came down from the north, after a little nip and tuck.
Smack dab in the middle of his boat was a giant ice cream truck.
While he baited his hook, his elves would stir the cream.
The kids would come down to the beach and everyone would scream.
Could this man be Santa? Boy that would be slick.
How could someone catch a fish with chocolate push up stick?
The elves just kept on working, they seemed to never stop.
Little Billy swam on out for a drumstick and fudge pop.
The king cones all sat ready they were the next in line.
The snow cones didn’t taste that great, but the eclairs tasted fine.
The kids just kept on swimming and ate up every treat.
The sandy beach was all packed down from tiny little feet.
If you ever run out of bait, while fishing on waters blue.
Remember this little story, fish like ice cream too.
A Jolly Fisherman Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Warden
8/21/22
Fork in a rattler tongue,
knife in hooded cobra veiled hand
Silver spoon boa stomach demand,
air insatiable adder lung
Squeeze some more blood juice
out of the acidic voice fermented grapes
Hate poisoned liver-flavored pâté crepes,
pretzel logic is a spaghetti noose
Feast on a plate of lust of covetousness,
make the greed rise
Leaven loving eyes
only feed the poor mouths charity less
Get the Balaam onion bread
piping hot out of the Oval ovens
Carrot and spuds tweet muffins,
parrot-roasted talking heads
Famine feast on them whore drumstick fake legs,
devouring those naked breast dressings
Ask Baal for even more bowel blessings,
as your congregation of the dead coffin cake begs
Revisit the sham Shittim place,
where the gluttonous in heart fell belly up,
and the murmurers had their last lust sup:
A Baal-peor bloated quail face
I got a neighbor
who has a dog named Spike
And there are two things
that mean ole dog don’t like
Spike don’t like cats,
and he don’t like clowns
Especially the cat burglar ones
The sneaky ones who try to come around
and steal his beloved master’s possessions
They try to get in the house
through the window or back door at night
You best believe that Spike
is gonna greet them St. Bernard right
Round about the late, late show hour
is human drumstick snack time
Spike is salivating ...
waiting
to take a bite out of crime
You best believe that
news has spread underground
Cat burglars beware:
200-pound fury is policing around
Spike is gonna dog collar
any perp
who try to enter
his territory unannounced
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.