a man of towering stature,
mercurial temperament
well-known, his avarice
for absolute power,
a dreadful reputation
for intimidating underlings
in brutal fashion,
unsits the current king,
takes control
of the kingdom.
there's not iron gate
he cannot get past
the strongest of towers,
he could tumble down
his favor cannot be won
by a silver coin.
who has the the courage
to challenge his authority?
he mutes the loudest,
makes whispers
out of their screams,
he fearlessly
takes on giants
he puts away crowns
too heavy for his head
yet, his shadow fills
any room he walks into,
it makes
the proudest bow low,
still, he can never touch
anyone's light,
or steal the love
foreign to him
“Let this chicken remind you: linger too long in August heat, and you’ll end up feather-frazzled and fried in spirit.”
This chicken looks as though the sun itself
has grabbed it by the feathers and declared,
“You shall be my cautionary tale.”
Its crest shoots skyward—an exclamation mark
of poultry panic—while its eyes, wide as
two over-boiled eggs, broadcast pure despair.
August has wrung it out like a damp rag
forgotten on a porch rail. Every plume
is standing in protest, muttering,
“I did not sign up for this climate.”
It is the portrait of a creature fried
not by oil, nor skillet, nor recipe~
but by the merciless heat that turns
even the proudest barnyard citizen
into a frazzled, feathered tragedy.
Call it fried chicken if you must,
but note the truth behind the joke:
this one’s been sautéed by the sun itself,
and it is absolutely done.
They bare the site of ancient days,
But embraces me with memories.
My wife advised I dispose of them.
She once angered me by hiding them.
When finding them, it felt like being
reunited with a long lost friend.
My wife had forgotten from whom
Those shoes came. But I'm happy
That she now understands why I
Refuse to part with them.
I treasure my special pair of shoes
Like none I have ever owned or worn.
Some parts of them are ragged and torn,
And shoe laces no longer fit in them.
Fashionable, they are not. In fact, they
Are clearly aged and unsitely, but I'm unashamed to wear them. They are
One of my most proudest possessions.
Useless and 'throws-aways' to everyone
Else, but to me, priceless.
Perhaps they look older than they are
Because I wear them a lot. They were
Gifted to me by my only grand daughter
5 years ago. She passed away 2 years
Later.
I called her Papa Girl. I intend to wear
Those shoes until I leave this world.
been actively not cleaning the bedroom hovel for almost three years
But this morning I convinced myself to try and get over some sorting fears
I opened box after box, parcel after parcel, bag after bag.
Most of this crap I threw out, thinking “what am I? a hag?
Why would I keep some of this crazy stuff?
Who am I impressing? I cannot throw hard enough
I will have enough for a bonfire to light up my forest tonight
But there is a wind advisory, so tonight will not be right
I have thrown away this, that, these, those, and the other.
Who would be the proudest? My neatnik clean freak mother
I wonder if she is in heaven cheering me along with a song?
That would be lovely I think as I am tossing along.
I read a poem to my quilting class,
Which happens over Zoom.
It got a warm reception, so
They liked it, I’d assume.
I wrote it several weeks ago;
The topic: sewing curves,
Which even to a practiced quilter
Oftentimes unnerves.
It’s satisfying seeing
A reaction to my writing,
Since mostly, just my husband’s thoughts
Are those I am inviting.
While written comments gratify,
Like a fellow poet’s note,
A responsive audience can make
My spirits rise and float.
My quilting skills are modest,
Though they have improved with time,
But the talent I’m the proudest of
Is setting thoughts to rhyme.
Football crazy Exiles u13s 2024/25 season
They're football crazy,
they're football mad,
Ipswich Exiles U13s,
the best they’ve ever had.
With speed and grit,
determination true,
Strength in all areas,
they play to rule.
Our top goal scorer,
a year younger but bold,
His talent and drive,
a sight to behold.
Week in,
week out,
whatever the score,
These lads bring pride,
always wanting more.
On the pitch they shine,
a united band,
Making parents,
fans,
and coaches the proudest in the land.
Win, lose or draw,
their spirit's a flame,
Ipswich Exiles U13s,
forever in the game.
A sudden crash awakens the night.
Thundering boots stomp,
heightening fear.
Little spots of light dart across the room. A half-naked man, bewildered and angry,
a wall of blue invaders violated his castle.
Pinned to his bed, with a truncheon to his throat,
he hears a woman's hysterical pleas for mercy,
unaware of their crimes.
A singular figure stands tall, self-righteous,
demanding their passports in an authoritative voice.
" Are you married to this woman?"
" Are you a permanent resident?"
These are the questions asked by the invaders.
If this sounds familiar, you would be wrong,
New Zealand in the 60s. One of her proudest moments?
Once dubbed the land of milk and honey of the Pacific,
inviting her poorer cousins to part-take in her fortune.
Then she ridiculed and scorned her guests,
labeled overstayers by her gracious host,
with the blessings of her white populace.
My fellow countrymen do not wish to be reminded of such events.
In this land of milk and honey, covered in sheep dip.
It is good to remember, in case we forget and repeat,
Lest we forget the lessons of our past.
What is greater than a week full of uplifting joy, but also sadden by heartbreaking news.
On Monday, March eleventh, my grandson’s wife after twenty-six hours of labor had a beautiful baby boy. On the other side of the country on Wednesday, a few minutes after midnight, my granddaughter had a handsome baby boy.
Amazing. Two great-grandchildren in one week the ultimate greatest news a great grandma could have. I couldn’t be there for the delivery but was spiritually. Photos were taken capturing every moment of their birth. I am the proudest great grandma. Twelve hours after my second great-grandson was born, I was called with bad news, my sister ten years younger than me had passed away peacefully in her sleep. On Saturday, three days later loud thunderstorms then at three-a.m. nature decided to send hail the size of golf-balls causing damage. What else is in store for my life.
perfect buds unfurl
slowly ages withers dies
celebrate rebirth
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Skin bright,eyes shine brighter than the noon's ray.
A smile that gladdens the heart of a weary stranger,
And causes death to sigh in envy.
Shall I compare thee to the volcano?
The eyes of molten magma.
Piercing stare that melts the heart of the proudest man,
And the face that consumes one with awesome delight.
Shall I compare thee to the brightest star?
For your skin shines like the angel that you already are.
A face that causes the gloomy hell to shine bright,
And my stony heart,to leap in fiery delight.
What else shall I compare thee to?
For your beauty is greater than the diamonds too.
And your sunny face,
A testament of nature's ways.
Diverticula pits up her colon
Can’t eat much or intestines get swollen
Ma's farts are so stinky
She swears with her pinky
Ain’t gonna stop her from goin’ bowl’n
Ma, gran, and Fran’s bowling tournament
I sat far knowing their predicament
Fran’s blasts were the loudest
Best bowler and proudest
It’s never again and that’s permanent
A Dining Hall’s famous passion
And signal stomachs have vision.
Not shown ignites cook’s confusion,
The proudest chef slight convulsion…
Determines how far feeders go
With that which makes human being grow;
The Richest Cake won’t with one flow,
If sugar does not make one glow,
The blackest dish as white as snow,
Because one’s captured mind it’d blow…
Poorest Appetite – Appetizer,
Aroused one skips sanitizer.
But now things are horribly tight
Commonsense rules, not Appetite,
Your Heavy lunch to now make light,
So that next meals come with less fight.
He scooped and he packed
He rolled me good and round,
When all was done, I stood there
Only three feet off the ground
I had wondered why...
Why did this teenage boy,
Build me up this way
No bigger than a toy?
No bigger than his dog
In fact, we saw eye to eye,
I looked around for answers
And still I wondered why?
Then I came face to face
With an answer that was clear,
When the boy in the wheelchair
Slowly came rolling near
With his teenage brother
Lending him a helping hand,
He placed a smile upon my face
A smile so wide and grand
My eyes, two big buttons
From Grandma's sewing kit,
My scarf, one of their Dad's
Was striped and hand knit
From their Mom's kitchen came
My nose, a long gnarled carrot,
My arms, two maple limbs
From the family's tree I did inherit
My heart, warmed by the boy
The boy who could not walk,
His eyes laughed when he saw me
Though he could not even talk
No prouder stood a snowman
That towered, oh so tall,
Than me, the littlest snowman
The proudest one of all.
On a day filled with autumn sunshine
With colours so vividly displayed
Painting a rich picture in texture and colour
Stately pines, towering cliffs, a palisade
Mother Nature's proudest achievements
Unmatched by any on man's canvas
Colours so rich, with so varied a palette
A picture of serenity so infectious
Absolute beauty that lasts too short a while
But returns same time each year
This ravishing beauty, nature's crowning glory
The sight can bring one to tears
Dear Mother Nature in all of it's glory
That time of the year when we gasp
Basking in the magical colours of autumn
Revelling in it's splendour so vast
They all know the capacity
He’s enjoying in their city,
His hurting voice at its loudest;
Body movements of the proudest,
Powered by his swell bank account;
Many swear he does billions count;
Yes, his pay slips on a table
And No Normal remained stable…
Yet, it has been Trickles from him;
If you grab his dime, sing a hymn!
His criticisms breed like flies,
His smiles included in his lies…
Who ever turned A True Sponsor
That would Helping Dollars censor?
Now for ‘Chairman’ dreams not of bars
But this shall be rather in Mars,
Voters dead sure that no miser
On money matters got wiser.
‘Tis not for me to judge the performances of my life
Or grade my talents, or, speak of some bold endeavors,
Folks who watched me do what I felt needed to be done
May, perhaps, speak of things I could never measure,
There were, to be sure, grand achievements I thought
Worthy of note, a child guided along the way in school,
Occasional opportunities to support the worthy cause
From pulpit emphasizing adherence to the Golden Rule,
From time to time I wrote something worth mentioning
Played instruments, lead choruses, music performance,
Growing a choir of Singin' Seniors was an accomplishment
Trying to make a difference, sometimes a consequence,
I’m personally proudest of always standing up for a right,
For believing in, and standing up for, fair-play in all things
When I think about those small victories for civility won
A medal for social justice, then my happy heart truly sings.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written May 21, 2022
For “My Greatest Performance of My Life” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by JCB Brul
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