Borrowed the neighbors chainsaw
Oiled it, sharpened the blades
Never used one before
Except that time I tried to fillet a fish
Had to trim my tree
Each branch trespassed next door
Already ate their criticisms for lunch
Dang! How do you start this thing?
Better read the instructions again
Life erupts from inanimate arbor barber
Usually, this job would be a breeze
Except, I sliced through the limb...
Severed my left shinbone
The fillet was supposed to be boneless
but it wasn't
It caught me off guard, midmeal.
Between bites of slaw and baked potato
It wedged in the top of my whiskered throat
there was the palest form of panic,
I swallowed hard a few times
swigged root beer
everyone's eyes grew wide
it finally dislodged after a few attempts
thank God perch bones are thin.
At times, the death of something loved
comes out of nowhere
from the cloudy depths
ruins the confidence
twists the heart into unrecognizable things
life is so very thin like perch bone dreams.
poets practicing paucity
fillet frivolous phrases
Young Mary wanted to learn how to cook,
she didn’t like the recipes of the book.
So, chose her favorite food,
she knew that would be so good.
On hand lessons from her mother she took.
She decided to cook crispy fish fry,
went to the kitchen to give it a try.
Pan was red hot, she didn’t care,
fillet got burnt in the flare.
With a sigh she vowed to bake apple pie.
Still living 'bove ground
inside a box, outskirts of town
Begged every day, helped him pay
for coffee, a smoke, a tin of ‘spam filet’
Gave him two quarters every time I drove by
Thought of myself as a ‘generous guy’
Other drivers zoomed past him hand closed
though many were poverty-opposed
Today, I noticed his face seemed drawn
I pulled over, said ‘Get in; What’s going on?’
He tried to talk, words struck in his throat
Instead he spit blood on his old shabby coat
Drove up to the nearest ER
Got him into admissions
When I understood, he’s a public charge
To say 'Sorry' ~ I turned toward a stiff
in the rigor mortis position
The neural spark
is ill-defined, a cloud of unknowing.
Nothing begins anywhere.
The tail of the snake
is its neck.
The body grows out of its closed eyes.
An uncertain vapor trail
sheds hieroglyphic fragments,
they could be words,
or only
the residual cooling of a brief potency,
a fast-evaporating speculation
now only a dilatorily dripping
from its dormant inkwell.
You don't know, you just don't get it,
until it takes shape,
then a flint strikes a low adumbrate sky,
only then does meaning arrive
to burn your tongue.
You, (this is your part),
with have to make changes,
fillet out the serpent's pin-bones,
or words will stick in your mouth.
This is how a poem begins.
This is how a poem begins,
not with a thought or a whisper
but with a sly electric slither.
Eerie Midnight …walking through empty field,
found three strange witches asking me to yield,
abominable they looked,
brewing, following their book!
had no choice but to those creatures I kneeled.
Were there a lizard's leg, toe of a frog
Fillet of a snake, tongue of a dog!
Frightful castle on the hill,
Who lived there …shivered with chill.
Not expecting a polite dialogue!
I screamed, creepy witches signalled to me,
I stumbled in fright, they wouldn't let me free.
A spooky Halloween night,
Witches vanished with dawn light!
Terrifying things didn't want to see.
Cat Café had an extraordinary chef, Raff McRayley
Pick your own fish, he told his customers daily
I can fillet them, fry them, sauté’ them or dry them.
Daddy Cat said, “I just want a taste, I want to try them.”
“I like them raw, said Buck the Cat, swallowing three.
That was expensive! Said the sou chef, Mrs. Bree-Lee.
Daddy cat said, “I thought a taste would be free.”
“it would have been, but by cracky, your son ate three!”
Death by 5 In The Kitchen, The Other Murder
My wife must hate cow...
because she cannot avoid insulting it.
A choice fillet I did purchase.
Served medium rare would be perfect.
But, as for her, I can scarcely concur.
She must absolutely, positively... burn it.
Poor cow.
by, Martin Braun
July 28, 2023
deserted area of the town…
lonely Owl hoots tu-whooo! tu-whit…
premonition of a sinister sight!!!!
Eerie midnight …walking through the field,
find three witches asking me to yield,
around a cauldron abominable they look,
wonder what they're brewing following their book!
Are they concocting lizard's leg, toe of a frog
Fillet of a snake, tongue of a dog!
A frightful castle on top of the hill,
does Macbeth live there …I shiver with chill!
An uncanny mysterious moon shines so bright,
silhouettes of ghosts and goblins wander in sight.
Hear deadly werewolves howling and gnashing teeth,
I dread this menacing night, I hardly can breathe.
I scream in terror, the witches signal to me,
I stumble in sheer panic, they wouldn't let me free.
Ohhh…gosh..what a nightmare! what a terrifying night!
Ghoulish things disappeared with bright morning light!
March 22, 2023
Writing Challenge - "N" words Poetry Contest
Theme: Nightmare
Sponsor: Constance La France
SECOND PLACE
Miss Marple is a famous sleuth
She investigates and gets the truth
Murder intriguing has been committed
Just as well she's quite quick-witted.
Whom does this crime benefit most?
We can rule out our charming host
Victim was found dead in his room
Around his body flowers strewn.
Completely by accident Marple saw
Delivery of flowers at kitchen door
Where busy maid spends her day
All mundane tasks are sent her way.
She might be poor, but that blackguard
Sent flowers with invite scrawled on card!
Never expecting she would not comply
The fillet knife aided his dying sigh.
Flowers she threw in such distress
Then walked away from mortal mess
Bravely she sought Marple's advice
Who said 'she was skating on rather thin ice'.
Enigma surrounds this long closed case
The victim, no gentleman was a disgrace
Home in her cottage, thinking things through
Marple wondered what Poirot would do?
Start Sleuthing
Poetry Contest
Sponsored
by:
Natasha L Scragg
17/08/2022
Public Domain image: Agatha Christie 1910
Somewhere in the past of here and now
we started dining on the cow
and now they want us all to stop
but they can’t figure out just how.
There first attack the realm of coin
demands that you call it Sir Loin
for he is served with wine, a toast
unlike the lower caste Rump Roast
The ribs have found a changing niche
from barbecue to nouveau riche
and pity those way too high strung
to savor the juicy silent tongue.
Note all the words of sated praise
from those who’ve dined on rare fillet
and curse all those who let it stay
upon the fire turning gray.
No burgers, cheese, a side of fries
I promise we won’t “Super Size”
No more drooling finger lickin’
Let’ just cut out eatin’ chik’n.
Perhaps the price is way too steep
Perhaps, lets just stop eating sheep.
John G. Lawless
©7/25/2022
sizzling fish taco, spread with
hottest Tabasco
avocado, bassa fillet
pungent vinaigrette
mango salsa moist
deliquesce
melts!
June 2, 2022
"What's Cooking On The Grill This Summer" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: M. L. Kiser
Syllables checked by HMS.com
Meditating I noticed:
The light is lightning,
a fillet of
clarity that
invent us
shine...
a placid lake
is a source of
meditation...
meditate is contemplate
the sky with the head
in the clouds...
I noticed that there is a
strange tenderness
on the cow that watches us
while chewing grass...
maternal moment
dense, intense...
closer, flowers
smelly opened
paths with perfume...
Trees look at the sky,
by the handmade branches...
turn to the ground
when it's night...
the rain raining on
a moving rain,
rain from heaven and rain
from the earth...
I realize that the river,
is current liquid life...
We liquids trapped
in veins, capillaries, arteries...
All this we capture
when we look thinking,
meditating... !
When you died
My heartache reached my bones.
You seemed an old soul, but ageless.
Your death caught me by surprise.
Your deep, long, full voice
never to sweep through a room.
Never to fillet my soul
or plunge cold reality into my heart.
The lingering lines of your poetry
lay siege to my essence
and unlock the hidden door
from which all poets pen.
Your life of anguish and peace,
dance partners in the pattern of life,
open me to the possibility of both.
Sorting the discord to a song,
you lived the dichotomy of life
and spun the contrast to a single sphere of light.
As I ripen, opening to your music,
I long to align my life with yours.
To sit in meditation with your teacher,
to pen the lessons of life in compassion of others.
The world will be less the world I love
With you absent from the stage.
Exit Right, Empty Stage
End of Final Act.
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