Quarter Poems - Poems about Quarter

Lammas Day

bright-lit Lughnasadh
hails grain crops at the ready
Lugh and Danu join
in harvest celebration
gratitude is genuine

Red Banner, No Quarter

Early on a cold March morning
a handful of men took a stand
in the year of eighteen thirty six
when a sabre drew a line in the sand
it was victory or death for the valiant few
outnumbered and out-gunned
surrender and be spared an ultimatum they knew
with a cannon shot by Travis it was shunned
even as the day was

Why breakfast matters

I accidentally burned my breakfast toast.

I gave a thirty minute monologue
on this heinous crime.
To what’s left of the crust,
I stared, then cursed, then laughed
so hard the room shivered
and in the echoes—
Surprise!
I found the voice I choked
for being ‘inappropriate’—

—Time to toast.

I was startled by my cracked laughter,
as the cat groomed herself 
indifferently witnessing 
my twenties 
spent

The Knower Inhaling

Be leaved
In your redemption
As whole
Leave is unworthy
Of spirit
Usual day
Ends of spittle held
Under nectars perch, hast child as babe
Layed beneath wounds crown?
Neither beckon of blankets coldened ease
Wells, as slavic despondent ledgers
Nor, blathering distinct indemptions buffet
Break winds towards lightnings laughter

The Day I Lost A Quarter

I first fell in love with baseball back when I was 8 yrs old when I went to a Yankee game and was very fortunate to have gotten to see the great Mickey Mantle play. It was a school class trip, and the highlight of the trip was when Mantle hit a foul ball and

First Quarter Moon

First Quarter Moon

The first quarter moon wants me to
learn to 
speak curly hair language. If I don’t their
rage concerning being bullied by 
prunes the size of 
cement trucks will 
cause: more cracks in 
paths. The first quarter moon also wants me to
take a
wallet out to 
dinner. Wallets love to 
treat themselves too, but they won’t

A quarter to one

I woke up at a quarter to one,
with the angels walking hand in hand
My temperature had risen to a hundred degree and
I had a grinding headache that was bothering me
For the past two days, it rested in my forehead and creeps slowly
into my right eye forcing spiritual tears to flow consistently from my eyes and

A Quarter To Six

I listen to the sound of the clock on the wall
tic tock, tic tock and my spirit began to grow tall
the winding road that connects the village to the sea
Is calling me to keep its company,
 the trees are standing in line and
and destiny is running all over the vine
the river will crest soon and

A quarter machine

A challenging game 
aligning quarters in row 
to push a bunch out

A Quarter Short

I rarely pay for things in cash,
Although some stores prefer it.
They charge more for a credit card,
So customers deter it.

But at the local bagel shop,
I placed my morning order
And realized that, when tallied,
I’d be somehow short a quarter.

I asked the counterman to please
Remove one single bagel,
To prove I wasn’t out to,
By some method, well, finagle.

He

A Bright Shiny Quarter

  A bright shiny quarter was rolling its way
    toward a young man with large bills to pay

  The nickel rolled by, ignored and shunned 
    ~ all the young man’s accounts were dunned 

21 Gms Or Three Quarter of An Ounce

Just soul of 3 quarters of an ounce:
Exist in earthly body, 
Accomplish planned tasks,
Generate energy and leave;
Endure pain and joy,
During all my life;
Negative and positive both prevail, 
React to ambiance surrounding mine,
Life was full of joy and sorrow, 
Until I relinquished the body;
Caring friends and kins,
All accompanied up to burial,
Tears in eyes, gesturing bye; 
But

Quarter To Three

It's quarter to three,
The Bundy clock is ticking
It's talking to me.

Halway Between a Half and Quarter To Five

Gunga Din can have his gin…
Old King Tut his beer, but
I’ll rely on the sparkling wine.
Just a bit before dinner, imbibe…
just enough to create a sigh…
a cabernet sip for the heart…
My purple-tinted glass is high;
I fill it nowhere near the brim -
halfway between a half
and quarter to five.
I can do without a glass,
but what kind

Hitch-Hike

Do you ever wish you'd never been born?
Never again?
Do I play a role in your misery?
Or, did our paths cross to confirm inevitable suffering?
I'm weak and addicted. 
Mayonnaise brain.
Unfiltered rants that indulge self hate.
Pushing the limits. 
I don't want to be what I created. 
Seem is adjacent.
No satisfaction. 
Coincidence is comfortable in the simile of

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