Long Crackers Poems
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There was a store in Brooklyn selling
Food we’d often crave.
The owners were a couple
Known to all as Ruth and Dave.
On weekends I was sent there
Walking just a few short blocks
To buy bagels, cream cheese, whitefish
And some thin-sliced salty lox.
At times there was baked salmon
And if my mom had the urge,
On chocolate-covered jells
And graham crackers we would splurge.
It wasn’t every week we’d get
Those yummy foods to eat.
We knew a trip to Ruth and Dave’s
Was for a special treat.
So many years have passed I’m sure
That Ruth and Dave are dead,
But I can see them smiling,
She with braids piled on her head.
I am an eleven-year-old giant, lying on the floor of my treehouse.
The cottonwood trees have a smell you cannot get anywhere else.
They cherish our time together; I know because I am loved here.
My books are stacked up next to me. I have a pillow. It’s getting dusty.
Lack of excitement about this missive leads my eyes to stray.
I watch an ant crawling across the floor in front of me
I could smash him but I do not. His bold big blackness fascinates me.
He is larger than other ants, and he is carrying a cracker crumb.
I eat crackers and butter up here, not realizing who else benefits.
An angry voice pierces the day; Mrs. Rutherford is yelling at her mate.
He pokes his head out, but does not reply. He is terrified of her.
So many of us are. I duck down, wondering if she has seen me.
Doubtful, she is a focused woman, and Mr. R. is getting her mind.
A tittering giggle floats up. Patty from across the street has a beau.
That weirdo is over there. I shut this book and open another one.
The library lets me take out seven each day.
The loss of family or friends is hard to just set aside,
our lives have been changed forever,
we grieve for them a little more during the holidays.
Quote By: Poet
Merry Christmas in Heaven,
With a snowy winter outside,
Nature in white, no place to hide.
Neighbors decorate their yards to
Rejoice Jesus's birth in yuletide.
Family home for Christmas Eve,
Happy and high-spirited, weave
Through sweets, drink, crackers, and cheese.
The home alive as the world in glamour.
A small tree, a warm drink, and plate of treats to thee.
My love, I believe you'll never leave.
A tear of grief, as we were wed on Christmas.
A gift of love to each other we received.
A day I can never let go.
A day I will never forget.
Merry Christmas in Heaven.
12/16/2022
Christmas In Heaven:
A Focus On Loved Ones In Heaven
At Christmastime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
THANKSGIVING LEFTOVERS
Thanksgiving has now come and gone,
But we’ve still got turkey by the pound,
So the question now becomes,
What leftover recipes can be found?
We can have turkey tetrazzini,
Turkey chili with lots of beanies,
Turkey chow mein,
Turkey with whole grains,
Cause we’re not thrilled by more turkey plain.
Turkey stacked on white bread, lots of mayo,
Turkey quite spicy doused with lots of Old Bay,
Pasta with turkey spaghetti sauce,
Turkey on a salad gently tossed,
And let’s not forget some turkey jerky.
Ben Franklin pushed the turkey for our national bird,
Cause turkey provided sustenance, that’s what he heard.
But he didn’t face the problem that confronts us today,
How do we make so much leftover turkey go away?
Turkey is quite versatile, Help us eat a pile,
Eat the neck, munch the gizzard,
So much white meat, it’s a turkey blizzard.
And let’s not forget the turkey liver,
That’s the part Grandma says to give her.
Our turkey didn’t fly the coop,
That’s why we’ll enjoy turkey noodle soup,
Turkey in the straw, turkey cole slaw,
Take my advice, try turkey fried rice,
Turkey pot pie, Got to give it a try.
How many days can one turkey last,
If we don’t get rid of these leftovers fast,
Then we’ll have turkey coming out our ears,
And we’ll eat turkey for a couple years.
Oh, no, I just remembered, Christmas is coming soon,
We can’t eat another turkey or we’re gonna swoon.
Guess instead we’ll serve ham, leg of lamb with mint jam, can of spam,
A dozen clams, with a side of yams and crackers of graham.
Anything but turkey!
wayfarers do not have picnics with people.
travelers, journeyers, vagabonds, are wanderers.
they prefer nature to humans, and they keep moving.
do not try to enslave, entrap, slow down or capture one.
wayfarers come in a variety of shapes, boot sizes and heights.
they are usually taller than the norm, but not giants.
their leg muscles are well-developed, and they have bunions.
not all of them, but the two that I have met.
wayfarers are story tellers, but they keep their stories silent.
sharing them in their heads, but not with other humans.
they believe they will write a novel "someday"
weirdly enough on someday they are still moving, walking.
my aunt accidentally fell in love with a notorious wayfarer.
she followed him to Switzerland, France, Germany and Russia.
he kept asking her to be quiet, and it bothered her, for a year.
she thought she could change him, but she was incorrect.
wayfarers may not remember you even if they see you yearly.
but they will remember an oak tree branch or a twig on the lawn.
they will remember where they ate their peanut butter crackers.
they keep moving, so do not fall in love with one if you can help it.
Independence Day has come and gone....
All magic has been trucked away to come again another day
Sweltering, yet, in the dewy lawn,
is the fragrance of burnt offerings....
hovering low like a old gray ghost,
vast over the Riverside Park
In the still, early dawn, that now murmurs like a whisper...
Where evening throngs and
voices of oohs and aahhs were heard just hours before...
Where excited eyes glistened and reflected a night's sky alive with fire
A solemn morning of chattering squirrels
remain the only sign of life
as they nibble on pieces of hot dogs, or popcorn hiding in the grass
Morning air is cool and damp
Park benches, a bandstand, hilly mounds of grass and a playground
abandoned, barren and lonely...
The day appears to be wearing mourning clothes
Of candy wrappers, watermelon rinds, mustard coated paper plates
spent sparklers, fire crackers, one lone sneaker....
Where hours ago, radios played, laughter, cheering, hooting, jeering,
deafening man-made thunder made babies cry,
dogs tremble, children clap their hands over ears
Now there sprawls a silent, somber dawn
The only music in early morning light...
comes from a slight breeze that stirs
a tossed Pepsi paper cup
as it clatters a pop, pop, popping tune...
hopping among the dried, brown leaves down an empty sidewalk....
24/7 round the clock coronavirus (COVID-19) coverage
Strong armed marshall law decrees
(at a buoy good gull... lance)
across airwaves blare
constant detrimental exhortation
buzzfeeding populace analogous
to pollination instinctively
wrought courtesy bumblebees
to help combat
mortal pandemic disease
explaining governmental freeze
industries shuttered just ask jeeves
who will corroborate
deadly symptoms characterized
by severe chills inducing knocked knees
stricken unfortunate victim
beseeches with plaintive pleas
as their feverish body temperature
surpasses bajillion degrees
innoculation looms closer on horizon
as fatigued learned scientists squeeze
every detail how coronavirus (COVID-19)
transmitted, disseminated, contracted...
moost definite deadly germs spread,
when one and/or individual doth sneeze,
meanwhile palliative care workers seize
every opportunity to appease
tortured souls (suffering
worse fate than death),
plus plumb depths how said microbes'
molecular and/or atomic biochemical keys
activate, integrate, propagate...
painstaking labor to scrutinize and tease
burning midnight oil exhaustive energies
altruistic individuals ofttimes sustaining
their weary lovely bones
with crackers and cheese
moost likely forgoing adequate sustenance
also robbing sleep slowly
transforming them into zombies
apropos trailing appellation
describing unnaturally surreal spooky
haunting spectre as people
perish in twos and threes
mystery if initial epicenter
pinpointed among Chinese,
or perpetrated (my hunch) perhaps by aliens
slightly resembling infinitesimal
peace loving groovy hippies
pervasive during nineteen sixties.
Quarantine a dolt
Matthew Scott Harris got nowhere to bolt!
I had rescue my two little dogs for a few days now
and decide to keep them anyhow
They may have chewed my furniture up
and if not careful they would slurp out of my cup
But they had won me over anyway
and in my heart and home they would stay
One afternoon I needed a snack
crackers and cheese to calm my hunger attack
I sliced the cheddar and carefully arranged
on buttery crackers to quell those hunger pains
On plate with napkin beside
onto dinning room table my feast reside
Two sets of hungery eyes
licking their lips as they spied
I sit to eat my afternoon treat
but needed drink for snack to be complete
Safe my snack for it was up high
two small dogs would need to fly
But when I return with drink in hand
only plain crackers on a plate so bland
It seems I did not scoot the chair into the table
leaving little legs to leap as they were able
Two little doggies as happy as they can be
smacking their cheese stealing lips at me
Proud with eyes begging for more
I gave them the crackers they gobbled off the floor
Honor me with your company at tea
Outdoors where the air is always free
A table awaits us on the railroad tracks
Have a seat facing me my good old friend
The 10:00 am bullet train is coming fast
It should arrive on time this time
Would you like some jam with crackers?
Don’t worry. Don’t look behind you
That sound you hear is your imagination
Thunder is normal this time of year
If you feel a draft just close your eyes
It will pass through you once upon a time
Impacts are funny like that
It is after ten. I fear a crash is near
Drink up while you can my friend
I’m sorry. Did I say crash?
Crackers is what I meant to say
Good day
Dusty day departs
Nightfall brings rest;
Home awaits heart
~~~~~~~~~
Weary day retires
Night birds coo Good Night;
Sleep on sweet dreams
~~~~~~~~~
Electric words whiz
Electrons on iPad;
Swirl of feelings
~~~~~~~~~
Silent hours
Rain washing panes;
Streaks of lightning
~~~~~~~~~
Fragrant kitchen
Food on the stove;
Happy meals await
~~~~~~~~~
Jasmine flowers
Scented explorations;
Garden party
~~~~~~~~~
Old tree guards
These ancient grounds;
Final resting place
~~~~~~~~~
Death comes around
Unexpectedly sudden;
Another friend dies
~~~~~~~~~
Crimson sunset
Somewhat different;
Misty drizzle tints
~~~~~~~~~
By this bench
No words separate;
My lover and I content
~~~~~~~~~
Watch the haste
World in a swirl;
Indifferent stillness
~~~~~~~~~
Hot weather ferments
Overripe pineapples;
Sour odours pierce
~~~~~~~~~
Small market stall
The Bisquit Store;
Tons of crackers
~~~~~~~~~
Mobile devices
Cellphones and stuff;
Brisk evolutions
~~~~~~~~~
Talk and chat
Nothing new to add;
Rancid conversations
~~~~~~~~~
Good housekeeping
Sparkling and clean;
Homemaker's pride
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
21 August 2014
Singapore