Long Petticoat Poems
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Yours truly does readily confess
the following poem crafted more or less
approximately a year ago,
when coronavirus (COVID-19)
wrought havoc creating global mess
when panic against collective temple did press
a feeling of melancholy and world-weariness.
Along luscious green acres banks steep grade
(in close proximity to
Petticoat Junction) naturemade
Perkiomen Valley watershed,
verdant landscape displayed
yours truly, (a garden variety
proto human) arrayed
solely donning birthday suit,
whose fifty plus shades hair gone grayed,
i.e. one infinitesimal measly mortal
whiles away hours, laid
back days of his life as
the world wide web turns
comprising second decade
of twenty first century
civilization, where
coronavirus veritably waylaid
furlough afflicts populations feeling betrayed
entire fabric *****sapiens staid
threadbare existence now best describes
chock full of endemic ennui proliferates,
where vast majority of people afraid
to leave their houses lest COVID-19 played
greater havoc, whereby society already upended
unemployment factor at record high since...
Great depression witnessed
courtesy somber parade,
ninety years ago benchmarked
from May 11, 2021,
an invisible oppressed heaviness weighed
down the madding crowds
aghast how stock market trade
hit rock bottom making paupers,
ill fate clobbered breadwinners
circumstance none could evade
October 29, 1929 haint no charade,
when Black Tuesday hit Wall Street
bitta bing bitta bang bitta played
bitty bitty chitty chitty bang bang
linkedin with irrational exuberance portrayed
American economy supine splayed
versus March 11, 2020 characterized
coronavirus outbreak as pandemic
by the WHO subsequently signaling
Trump cited "fake news" and not dismayed
to expedite drastic measures
none would impede golf nor Mar-a-Lago
leisure him sipping lemonade
acid test tee zing 'bout quaffing electric kool-aid
without getting his doggy dimples in a bunch
he grudgingly complied and obeyed
purveyors (governors) and Anthony Fauci
complete United States government shutdown
approximately mid/late March 2020
which undertaking generated brisk business
grim reaper experienced
(still does) protracted heyday.
Loud guttural roar filled Steamboat Convention Hall
Stovetop hats rose up higher, and most were already tall.
The tiger made his entry with a loud snarl and a pounce.
Watch out! Someone yelled. I think this creature can bounce.
We ran out of the way, as fast as heavily-dressed convention goers can.
Tiger made a bounding leap and soon was shaking a trembling old man.
Don’t eat him! A girl in a pretty petticoat with a corset yelled out.
He gulped him down, after shaking him up, down and all about.
We did not see any blood, for the tiger ate every drop that he could.
I was running as fast as my legs would on this double treated oak wood.
The tiger was gaining on me, I could feel his breath on my neck.
I fell out of bed before I was eaten and I said “What the heck?”
Lady Fingers is from the House of Kent
The House of Lords would not accept her
Royal lineage apparently must be respected
Her family coat of arms hangs on the wall
The shield has nicks and dents from wars
History suggests she was not in attendance
Though her face and age show otherwise
Battle scars should not be ignored
Lady Fingers is delicate and demur
Her petticoat drags along the marble floor
She keeps her figure by eating only figs
An index finger and a thumb hold tea
The key to the chastity belt is long gone
Not to worry
The combination to the madame's heart is easy
One turn to the right to 9, twice to the left to 7
Another rotation clockwise till you reach 2
The Lady's safe is safe from all intruders
Including you you silly goose
This potpourri is a redolent of our sweet memories
When you and I happily shared our love under those deciduous trees
Those fragrant petals and autumn leaves were gathered for you to keep
Bear in mind that my love for you will never fade; but, it’ll run so deep.
You will always be in my thoughts while I’m away
When I’m in the battlefield, you’ll always be in my heart to stay
You’ll be the source of my valor, strength and hope to be alive
You’re the only reason why I always dream to survive.
I’ll always remember those blissful moments when I’m with you
You always prepare my breakfast - one of the sweetest things you do
In our dining room, before you serve the meal for me
Center table is adorned with our sweet potpourri.
Oh, how lovely to see you one morning upon waking up
Your beauty I adore is celebrated outside in musical chirrups
In your beige hat, nice dress in billowing skirt with petticoat you wear
With your sister, those sweet potpourri – you lovingly share
Dining room was entirely filled with a morning grace
When sunshine peeps through the window pane, I see a glow on your face
An enlightenment I feel, for I know your melancholy soon to vanish
When the curtains wave, I’m here my love -- don’t feel any anguish.
The picture of you, I paint it enormously in my mind and heart
When the sky dims, it will be my only hope to look at
As every bit of tiny leaves and petals dispel their fragrance into the air
Inhale and feel deep in your heart my everlasting love and care.
June 9, 2013 5. 10pm
Note:
This is a poem dedicated to George Dunlop Leslie. He is really one of the great painters. I admire him and I’m so impressed with his awesome paintings. I thank our dear friend, Isaiah for sharing him with us /me and his works. He truly inspired me to write this poem especially by one of his paintings, Potpourri. I imagined myself as the lady on his painting. i: )))))
First Place
Contest: Any Poem Goes
Judged: 6/19/13
Sponsor: Poet Skat
Second Place
Contest: George Dunlop Leslie (Choose a title from one of his paintings)
Judged: 6/17/13
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Back when girlish daydreams
rode the ether like coal-glowy-clouds
my featly feet kept a beat in spring grass
as I flounced with Romany winds—
breezy-gypsy-lips brushed my cheek
as I whirled in his imaginary arms
‘til I fell over on pillows of clover…
white fields of clover did pillow my dreams
as slow-motion-cumulus shape-shifted
into what I wanted to see
I found you where you stood
a wizard-well made of stone
there you sang
your mouth O-pen
like the eye-of-the-storm
and oh— with fluent depth
your slippery rime beguiled my mind
June wind— a flowy fifer
blew across your rounded rim—
folksy-fife twisted petticoat heartstrings…
my wishes stitched my seams bewitched
—hopes bloomed
like soft-stemmed peonies twined
by choke-hold-vines
in the season before my summer solstice
when skirt-pleats still hid shy knees
how was I to know
wishing for lambs from edelweiss
was as fictive as sugarcane unicorns
so I dared not damage the magic
with doubt’s dent
as I cast blindfolded coins
weighed down with cinder-block-hope
in fealty to a wishing-well deity
who made ethereal echoes of my name
—yet callous your schemes pitching dreams
as empty now as this fool but for my shame
back then life was unmapped—until clover fields
became sneak-away-streets paved with your name
where remains of yesterday’s wishes lay
like burned-out cars along couldn’t-care-less curbs
In Japan, people make a Spring pilgrimage
They go to pay homage to cherry blossoms
When the earth nods its head
When the sun warms its forehead
It causes bare trees to burst into bloom
There a hundreds of dresses in regalia
There are pink chima jeogari dancing
There are white áo dài shimmering
There are lemon petticoats inviting
Plundered by industrious bees
Till a tree is pregnant hundreds over
Blossoms lasting just ten days
Embryos fed by baby green solar panels
Not like summer’s s serious green
Not like fall’s wizened crimson leaves
Do not disturb magnolias gestating
Ahead of this year’s spring equinox
Cherry blossoms care not cruel time
They let winds strip off their gown
Her áo dài ripped become confetti
Her chima jeogari torn by progress
Her lemon petticoat tossed is swept up
For a ticker tape parade on any sidewalk
A pilgrimage to Spring is easy
You don't need faith to behold
Come before fruits cry for her dress
Find a tree to walk around
As Muslims do around the Kaaba in Mecca
You don’t have to be in Tokyo to behold
The divine in a falling twirling petal
Whirling Dervish careless of the audience
They dance for a week and are gone
Renewal and impermanence in chiffon
I await next year's Spring collection
Dismissing summer on the runway
Cherry blossoms also means missing
** Chima jeogori, the traditional outfit for Korean women
** Áo dài, the traditional attire of Vietnamese women
.
fathom this fellowz
whilst i try mine
superior
not
tuh twist
yourn
thinks
Her petticoat
Oh sure
she held unto
normal stand'z
yet
the audience found thuh
wonder
why it's cotton
white
sway'd az uh church bell
miss'n it's
rockabilly frilly
habit
Tap
*In Old English “habit" meant attire or dress.
It originated from the Latin “habitus" meaning
appearance.
*The undercarriage of a woman is the pelvic floor,
which is a large, layered muscle sling located at
the base of the pelvis ,)
Age One to five,
diaper, t-shirt, panties, petticoat, dress, hair ribbon,
Six to ten
car coat, patent leather shoes, apron, white pedal pushers, ruffled top,
Eleven to fifteen
Liz blouse, go-go boots, faux leather jumper,
bellbottoms, polyester pantsuit,
Sixteen to twenty
shirt dress, blue jeans, two piece swimming suit,
dark gray coat with rabbit collar, diamond ring,
Twenty-one to Twenty-five
fancy lingerie, maternity top, short shorts, zigzag dress,
burgundy leather coat with white fox collar with matching fox hat,
Twenty-six to Thirty
suits with skirts, high heel shoes, pink ski coat with white faux fur collar, dressy dresses, sandals,
Thirty-one to Thirty-five
ruby ring, diamond necklace, opal ring, moonstone pendant, emerald ring,
Thirty-six to Forty
diamond cocktail ring, fancy turquoise bracelet, pearl earrings, slacks, Girl Scout leader uniform,
Forty-one to Forty-five
purses, floral scarves, sweat pants, diamond necklace, ruby ring,
Forty-six to Fifty
opal pendant shaped like a bear, silver strand necklace,
fancy tops with rhinestones, knitted hats, knitted scarves,
Fifty-one to Fifty-Five
handmade sweaters, one pair of blue jeans, jackets, tank tops, I love Grandma sweatshirt,
Fifty-six to Sixty
one piece swimming suits, fluffy socks, pajamas, fuzzy robes, elastic waist line pants,
Sixty-one to Sixty-five
hoodies, tennis shoes, fancy bag, one pair of blue jeans, pajamas
Sixty-six to Sixty-Eight
long sweater like we wore in the late sixties, bell bottom pants I found last year in a store, and paint clothes because I am an artist and when I am not writing poems, I am painting canvases.
The shows I watched when young were black and white.
About five channels came on day and night.
The Beaver, Opie, Jeanie, Flying Nun
were characters I liked both good and fun.
Shows of humor sometimes missed their function;
one like that for sure was “Petticoat Junction.”
But “Laugh-In,” “Lucy,” and “Bewitched” were cool;
“Three Stooges” I rushed home for after school.
“Lassie” for the kiddies, “Rifleman” for dad,
“The Man From U.N.C.L.E” for us all, a 60’s fad.
By standards of today, those shows were tame.
The raciest perhaps was “The Dating Game!”
One genius fat guy, Hitchcock, gave a thrill
with horror tales. I like those re-runs still!
But there’s one 60s TV show that I
recall the best; I’ll finish telling why!
“Bonanza,” broadcast Sundays, was the one
for romance, drama, and great family fun,
for on the Ponderosa lived wise Ben
and his three sons, well-off but simple men.
The chubby one named Hoss was kind of sweet.
The oldest, Adam, I found really neat!
Little Joe, whom we girls would like to marry,
later moved to “Little House on the Prairie!”
It may not have been best of old TV,
but it was sure a cherished show for me
because it came each Sunday night at eight,
a special time so great I could not wait!
My mom and dad and we eight kids would sit
together happily enjoying it.
Before the show began my mom would pop
a huge pan full of popcorn, butter on top.
Each time commercials came, we’d dip a bowl
of ours into that pan; I’d get so full
for I’d eat eight or ten small bowls of it.
Once I begin with popcorn, I can’t quit!
This was the family custom I lived for
since television and food I both adore.
It was the night we all together sat
enthralled, and there’s not much that can beat that!
Written by Andrea Dietrich
(I have too many today to name TV favorites but I really
think "Bonanza" has to be my favorite from my childhood!)
For Michael J. Falotico's "Ryhme Me An Old TV SHow.... Poetry Contest"
Spindly stretching brambles rebel from main form
Amused bending stems eject spikes of rhino horn
Thorns barely a repellent for birds resourceful
Tweezer glowing twilight globe, a bitter morsel
Fresh field alien green cone births berry's infant
Chantilly lace pale pink petticoat wraps nymphet
Confetti celebratory moult bulges her fertility
Eighty protruding bulbs shiver in vulnerability
Stern season carousel chastens scanty branches
Snow swallow, boggy terrain new tepid attaches
Saw edge foliage unfold, twitching fox ears
Clusters encombour limbs, absinthe adheres
Florid flocks tossle, augment midnight family babble
Morning dew melt sapor stains fingers which dabble
Outcast tongue teaser, lumpy rubber cleaved
Mauve motivate jaunty juice, mouth received
9th August 2022
Written for Contest:
Thoughts on Blackberries
Sponsor:
Matt Caliri