Rye Poems

Rye Flower Dance

Seclusion forms into a mountain, 
Practice acceptance of my reflection, 
Eye contact with the water of a fountain. 
Time refuses to push forward if you stop counting, 
Acting seconds out loud, 
Life can never falter if I’ve got nothing to amount to. 

I’m trying to make sense of the seasons, 
Claimants of my portions try

Catcher in the Rye

The catcher in the rye
I go and drop the ball
I lay it down and cry
I’m sleeping in the stall
Cause everyone is phony
Your company is lonely
Your animals are bony
Your everything is only

I’m underneath the bridge
Below the overpass
I’m locked inside the fridge
I’m sleeping in the grass
Cause everyone is faking
Every excuse for bailing
Your  painted skin is flaking
Success

Stillness in November

Over harvested fields —

I walk beneath the fading afterglow
of a forgotten lantern   a path worn
by wanderers older than the scroll of Zeno
its damp salve seeping through my coat
into my bones

Fog an Erebian curtain   a Stygian veil
barn swallows following
susurrus secrets of the soul   each step
a slow exhalation   a

Why the Rye

Screaming in a jar, wondering who you are,
Waiting for the glass to crack,
You left me with these scars, you left me in the stars,
Trying to find my way back.
I smoke and I drink, so I don't have to think,
About why the moon's in love with the sun,
I drown and I sink, my minds on the

Miezer Man and the Scarecrow

I live in a "Mean Peoplez Zone"
soou
leave me alone: I'll introduce
to you to my dad Miezzer.
So stringy is he
and I'll let you see: he's
so
cheap he waits for clothes to go
on sale at goodwill. he told a story
of aman who used a elk, deer and
moose to stem cell meat for cheep.
They only asked me was it

WHEAT NOT RYE

He wanted whole wheat not rye
The sloppy sandwich made him cry
He knocks the plate on the floor
Then decides to order more
His sandwich was extremely dry

oh little Rye

Oh little Rye!
You’re too young to be mine.
Notice me from afar;
I’m giving you a good sign.

Oh little Rye!
You’re twenty-one, now.
Are you seeing someone lately?
Or have you given a vow?

Oh little Rye!
I wish you were my age
I wish it’s easy to hold you
And it feels like you are caged

Oh little Rye!
Have I pushed it too much?
Dare

Hamas and Cheese on Rye

What?
Bomb Palestinian women and children
Because Hamas and Cheese are hiding
In people’s basements like a sack of potatoes,
Moldy boxes, and dirt?

Wait!
Hamas is down there
They’re everywhere,
In the water 
In the air
In the people’s underwear

So bomb, bomb, bomb we go
Gently down the street
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life’s now blasted meat

That’s called proportionality!

Why?
The U.S. dollar needs a war,
To grow, to

Winter Wry

My heart is a charcoal gray
With silver specks in the sun
Tomorrow is New Year's Day
And this old year, my dear, is done

A bit of moss on the north knoll
The hills of my heart burrowed through
And I'm cramming hope in the holes
Just like the woodpeckers do.

Rye Whiskey, Rye Whiskey

Snug in the corner I saw the lad lie,
Fire in his belly, a cork in his eye;
And wordlessly sleeping, a-snooze in his bed,
His words, when awakened, go straight to your head.

Alluring to look at, golden is he,
There when you need him as sure as can be;
And anxious to aid you, he doesn't think twice,
The cost

Bread

Whole wheat and pita.
French, white, rye, and tortilla.
And pumpernickel.

Robert Burns Translation: Comin Thro the Rye

Comin Thro the Rye
by Robert Burns
modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
 
Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.
 
Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.
 
Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the rye,
Should a body kiss

Gray Sky On Rye

Gray sky on rye bread
Seasoned to taste, rain or snow
  ~ Bites when the wind blows

By Cather For Rye

by Mark Miller © 08/17/2016
Sable of night repeals our
Hidden mirrored abuse
Puzzle pieces draw out 
Fancy flights made bliss
Can't you hear as fear
Drowns the solar rain gray  
Shapely holes alone stray 
Grasping for future hour riffs
In hybrid blue the blood wrap clause
Selling ink stains historic loss
Under lanterns light we gather 
Stoic streets of concrete keep
It's

Sugar On Rye Bread

When growing up my twin
brother and I would get 
up early for breakfast while
our mom was trying to get
some sleep from her graveyard 
shift at the hospital as a nurse.

We would meet in our kitchen
on Saturday mornings and 
sprinkle sugar over rye bread
which was our version of a
hearty meal while watching
cartoons and wild west shows

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