Long Scoop out Poems
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Home from a chemo session, uncle lights up
a cigarette and collapses
to the slick plastic that covers your chaise
lounge, auntie. He thumps the upholstery
with his legs and elbows for blood
to circulate again. A flake
drifts. Dehydrated lips, uncle
inadvertently kisses ash. Cushions
puff up, deflate. Uncle floats
smoke rings to prove he still has breath.
Your bulbous urn ruptures his rings
on contact where curvature
casts uncle’s warped reflection, all mouth and smoke,
as he would rise to reach your urn on the mantle.
Uncle slouches back, watches his sports channel.
I head out with his hamper
and forget to check pockets before washing clothes,
his soggy receipts - - once grocery lists? - -
and tissues, torn apart, clumped up, fake snow
I have to scoop out of washing machines.
Absent-minded tasks at the laundromat, auntie,
where you’d bend in pain. Lint trays reinstall
fluff. I snap
and snap airborne dryer-flakes off towels.
Oh gosh, what memories pancakes brings back to me …
As a child I used to make them every week for my dad
He adored them but I never ate them! It’s been many years since I made them
Lets see if I can remember the recipe for the batter
Carefully weigh out 4 oz plain flour, add in ¼ teaspoon salt
Sieve this into a bowl. Make a well in the center
Then carefully add three medium sized eggs
Do make sure they are fresh and you scoop out any bits of shell
You don’t want to find anything crunchy in your pancakes!
Use a hand whisk or electric whisk to incorporate the eggs then
Gradually add ½ pint milk (or milk and water combined)
Whisk until you have a silky smooth batter with no lumpy bits
Now the important thing is to put the batter in the fridge
Leave it to rest as long as possible ideally at least ½ hour
Then you need a medium sized frying pan, drizzle in a little cooking oil
Heat the pan until it is fairly hot but not smoking
You don’t want to have clouds of acrid smoke and have to ring the fire brigade!
Pour in a little of the batter It will start to sizzle and splutter
Tip the pan to spread the batter and make a thin coating
Cook until the underside of the pancake is golden brown
And the top is covered with bubbles
Now comes the fun bit…
You can simply flip the pancake over to cook the other side
BUT if you are daring you can try tossing it in the air …
hoping it doesn’t stick on the ceiling!
Disaster can strike if the pancake misses the pan and ends up on the floor…
I was never brave and always flipped the pancake over
Once the pancake is golden brown on both sides slide it onto a warm plate
My dad always ate them sprinkled with sugar and zesty lemon juice
But you can use any topping you desire even savoury ones
Dad would roll his pancake and eat it in slices
Whilst he was eating the first pancake
I would continue cooking until the batter was used up
I’d make sure I added a little oil before cooking each one
You don’t want them to stick
If you are making a batch of pancakes you can cover them
Put them in a warm oven until you have finished making them all
Enjoy!
Contest:-Didactic Food
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
10~07~15
If you’re very lucky, you may find
The type of handyman
Who can take care of the problems
That you now no longer can.
Climb a ladder to the roof? No prob -
It’s what he likes to do
And while up there, he will clean
The cloudy skylights, just for you.
Clogged up gutters? With some gloves
He’ll scoop out leaves and dirt and gunk,
Staying cheerful through it all.
(I know that I’d be in a funk.)
When he’s finished, he will lowball
What he thinks that you should pay.
Do you know of anybody else
Who’d act in that same way?
Handy Randy is this person
Who is capable and fair
And reliable and really nice,
These attributes so rare.
He had seen chicken necks
twisted and broken in Chinese markets,
the plucked dismemberment
of flapping wings.
With help,
he could have strung his carcass up
like a hog on a hook.
He would have quickly cleaved himself
from balls to breast,
but this was a one-man job.
The cadaver
had to be bundled, separated and filleted.
Strange but he knows what to do.
His hands are now sharp as scalpels.
Fingers are boning blades, lancets,
curettes and shears.
He inserts a stiletto under the jaw,
angling through neck bones, the larynx,
drawing the point downward
severing jugular vein and carotid artery.
He does not collect the blood,
but lets it wet the earth.
He watches the bulbous purple coils
spill from his abdomen.
Chitterlings and sweetbreads,
plump jewels gleam briefly
then settle on the ground
in warm mounds.
A quick slice along the breastbone,
then ease the ribcage apart,
scoop out lungs and heart,
- fat catfish from a keep-net.
Looking upon his piled substance,
he feels as if the great work of his life
had now ended well.
He watches as the meat and offal
begin to dissolve.
Soon from the pools of blood
vine shoots will emerge.
One day there will be new wine.
ONE LAST TEAR---
Upon my arrival
here on this earth
out of my mother's womb
I was birth
Doctor spank me on my buttock
It hurt
Scoop out my mouth
I scream, I shout, I cried... in fear
One last tear
My dad was a short but proud, loud man
Stature of 5 foot 5, with a thunderous voice
Never in my life then have I ever seen him cry
Until the day of his mother's funeral, I spied
In my father's eye...
One last tear
As a teen father came into my room
Wasn't a very good talker
Alone he looked at me an said
“your mother ill has cancer she has 9 months to live”
One last tear
At the funeral of my mother
Once again in a church my father sat in the front pew
It was such an royal queenly pure white view
There she laid in a white satin knitted dress
She was, she looked at peace;
She was asleep....I looked to my left
And I spied again in my father's eye
One last tear
My father died
In 1985
In my face I shown, I fear
I then thought it was in my face
One last tear
Finally my wife died
In 2016 I blamed God
I was mean, thought it was all a dream
We're(I'm) young We were married for 40 years
God called her home, now I'm alone
She's gone, I'm here
(for her I shed)
One last tear
shallow am I, should a man dare to share...
show his fear alas is this my...
One last tear
2/3/19
For One Last Tear Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Let’s play.
Tigers have eyelashes.
Crocodiles smile.
The moon is made of cheese.
Shall we pull it down and see?
No? You want to keep it there?
You paint stories on its face?
Share your secrets in its ear?
Without the moon, there is no place for you to land from outer space?
But, sweetheart, I could reach it with the chair!
I could scoop up the moon on a spoon,
while I balance on my witches’ broom.
And place it so gently … right next to you.
It would sweep away bad dreams.
Give sweet kisses on your nose.
You could toss it in the air.
It’d belong to only you.
You are not convinced. That pout is clear.
You are tired of us grown-ups always trying to steer.
Leave you alone, you say. Let you have your moon.
High in the sky, with or without a silver spoon.
Everyone should have the moon, you’re right,
even dinosaurs, unicorns and clowns with drums.
Wait, is that dinosaur on the moon holding a spoon?
I thought dinosaurs had no thumbs.
Oh no, please tell him as quick as you can.
Do not scoop out the moon!
It’s not ice cream or cake.
Eating the moon’s a terrible mistake!
Look up! That was close!
He caught a fright and dropped the spoon.
Let’s leave the moon in peace.
I’ll grab the tub of ice cream.
You draw your best moon face.
Photographers on the lawn were making such a fuss
Woke me up to tell me I was now in Queen of every country.
You mean in this hemisphere? I asked them. But no….
They meant I was Her Royal Highness In charge of the whole Universe.
What? Soon as I realized they were serious, I started making rules.
My first decree was that it was illegal to be a photographer now.
Go to jail or scoop out the fresh warm manure from the livestock barn.
Enormous poopy pigs are there, so they left quietly after a bit of squawking.
I decided that everyone needed a mansion, a fancy car and a swimming pool.
Some creepy politicians questioned this, so I chopped their heads off.
It seemed easier and less stressful than me arguing with the idiots.
All businesses had to go to barter and accept whatever anyone wanted to give.
If someone brings a dried leaf and wants a haircut, so be it. Accept the leaf.
Do not be crabby about it either, plebian. Be gracious and pretend you like it.
All people have to pretend they like each other. That was my main rule.
How did it get clear down to number 565 on the list? Had I taken my meds?
My most popular rule was
That everyone could drive as fast as they dared.
The sixteen-year-old drivers loved this one.
It went to number one on the list in no time!
Rule 2: I have peanut butter pancake waffles for breakfast every morning.
I loved being ruler of the world!
I was so good at it!
And I was powerfully loved until one of the sixteen-year-old drivers
accidentally ran over my car.
Written 8-24-2020
Contest: If I Ruled the World
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
When picking a pumpkin, I want one that’s round,
The fattest, most corpulent one to be found.
It needn’t be heavy or massive in size,
But shape is a place where I won’t compromise.
The color, of course, is important, as well.
It has to be orange - no washed-out pastel.
I’m sorry for specimens speckled with green;
They just do not make the cut for Halloween.
And lastly, before I discover my gem,
I search ‘til I find one with strong, curvy stem.
I’ll never select one that’s missing its handle –
(It comes in quite handy when planting the candle).
When I’ve found the one that fulfills all my needs,
I’ll scoop out the insides and toast up the seeds.
My husband will carve out a devilish grin
And our Jack ‘O will welcome the holiday in.
Tracks which could be nothing.
Or werewolves who,
Just ate all the fallen leaves.
Vegetarian and a little crunchy too.
Halloween is scrumptious.
Hopeful like the crunching underfoot.
Then just-
Disappearing,
Dispersing.
Halloween is quick.
With the fluttering of vampire wings.
Surfacing from the sewer.
Then collapsing with a song.
Halloween is a desperate feeling.
We don’t have much except their footprints.
In October.
Halloween opens up our skulls delightfully.
It’s fast.
As they scoop out piles of,
Leaves from the gutter and run.
It’s fast.
The candy pours out all over the porch steps.
Then disappearing.
Just like me.
Up in the sky a great big spoon
Took a scoop out of the moon
It took one more and pretty soon
The moon went pop like a balloon
The spoon reached down close to the ground
And started stirring round and round
It sounded like tornadoes sound
And stirred up everything around
Sheep and cows and cars and trucks
Dogs and cats and pigs and ducks
Span around and got mixed up
And how they changed is how they stuck
The pig went moo
And the cow went quack
And the sheepdog clapped his flippers
And the sheep went oink
And the hen went woof
And fetched the farmer’s slippers
And the duck went baaah
And the mouse went neigh
And the barn owl stole the tractor
But what went eek
He took a peek
A mad velociraptor
The farmer didn‘t have a clue
He did not know quite what to do
He asked his wife in case she knew
And the farmer’s wife said
MOOOOOOOOOOO!
Written 17 April 2021 (in anticipation of Nursery Rhyme 5)
Contest: Nursery Rhyme 5
Sponsor: Eve Roper