Short Cast Iron Poems

the cast iron skillet
sizzling over the blaze
legless bullfrogs roar...

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Each time
the cast iron bell rings
a
drop of sunlight
fill
a 
thirsty heart...

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oiled cast iron black
preheating pan in oven —
weevils in cornmeal

10/13/2020...

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Like a maelstrom it imprisons 
In it’s cast iron grip 
Fighting is futile
Escape impossible...

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the truth
is
a cast iron bell
that
the worlds
desires 
to ring 
as loud as she can
with
a story to tell...

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hitting yourself in heart with a cast iron skillet
appreciating less than nothing about yourself
i watch in sorrow...

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Old Uncle Jack while sampling the fine cooking of his still,
Was knocked out cold by the cast iron skillet of Aunt Jill....

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eggshell dreams

     porcelain heart

cast iron sky






5/12/2019
MAY 2019 PREMIER 4 Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Sponsor...

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“Wake up, breakfast is cooking.”
Bacon in cast iron skillet,
sounds and smells, wafted through the tent.
“Coming”, the crackling bacon got me!...

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Welshcakes

Stolen straight from the bakestone*
Was a taster we all proclaimed

* cast iron griddle

Penned 5 November 2015...

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There's my cast iron Dutch oven pot,
Sitting on the counter, still dirty.
Word is, "Don't wash", or it will rust rot.
Old fat increases its purity....

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Butter sauté vegetables
in cast iron pan.
Add chicken and A1 sauce.
Heat up with cayenne.
Then toss with almonds.
Spoon in bowls
CRUNCH!

8/8/2018...

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“Wake up, breakfast is on the fire.”
Bacon and eggs in a cast iron skillet,
the sounds and smell wafting through our tent …
“We’re coming”, the crackling of the bacon sizzling got us!
...

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There is a holy man with
A heart like a bell
That rings out loud
Through the air,
Like a ship with a sail
Made of cast iron and steel
Listen to the sound everywhere
Lord, my heart is a bell...

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I am Iron Man Seven/Eleven.
How's it feel to have arms of steel? 
A cast iron head, and a rock hard bed.
I am ready to go to sleep right now.
Nighty-Night....

Short Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2014..ALL rights reserved.....

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cast iron monster
belching smoke and steam
small hands enfolded 

framed beneath
glassine perfection 
quietly staring 

strange world streams by 
silent but for noise
engine screams

arrival ahead
grandparents standing in snow
Christmas awaits...

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To Huskey we go, a cookout for dinner,
With six grandchildren, a definite winner.
The evening cool, the fire pit hot,
Some soup heating up in a cast-iron pot.
Seems life’s pretty sweet here in Lacey’s Spring;
Lottery? Nah, I’ve done won the whole thing....

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There’s nothing quite like
The smell of a cast iron 
Wood fired  cook stove
On a chill Kentucky morning
Brewed coffee, platter of eggs
Pork chops and bacon
Hint of wood smoke scent
And ashes…Rosin and Pine
And a wee lad to savor these
…Future memories  of mine…

...

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Furnances, cast-iron, will wrought a deadly terrain;
The mulling of our spirit has
Juggled words of gods out of our mouths
While we hide like moths, 
Thus life begins an affair with a new universe
Where furnances are allowed 
To crawl the garden grounds 
as our hearts watch
Aflame with plummage....

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CHRISTMAS EVE

Midnight bells
Now close
Now far
They quake the old boards
Shivering up the steeple
Cast iron
Fired to last three thousand years
Drone ‘cross a sleeping countryside
Bells!
Bells!
Brother Johning round the Moon
And    on the moment    dark windows
Light-up!
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!...

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Winter on Astor Street
 
                  The Gold Coast, Chicago
 
Beneath the canopy,
a doorman holds
a cast-iron door that lets
 
an ancient duchess issue.
Swathed in a silver gown
she tugs her sable cape
 
tight around a tumor
that nice young doctor 
will announce tomorrow.
 
 
Donal Mahoney...

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There will come a cast iron rain
in brown paper sackfuls
carried by frail, dark men
who never share your eye.

And when that day comes,
the skies will tremble,
smiling into hairline cracks
at the seams, awaiting
the drum of an enormous
wooden spoon, old
as Grandfather Mountain
and nimble as time
leaping like a cut-glass trout
in your still, hazel stream....

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Quickly the hikers rest with a freshly built                         ----------CAMPFIRE 
One of them flips out his ancient cast iron                         -------- PAN
Soon, fresh smells permeate the woods, something is       --------- FRYING
Having trekked and snacked on dates and raisins, so        ---------- TASTY
Smiles now appear  as they now sample  			    --------- BACON...

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I squint  just right
And capture a memory almost forgotten
Jars of fruit and honey fresh from hives
Filling shelves in old smokehouse
Home-made butter and molasses
In her kitchen
Waiting to smother
Biscuits warming
On black cast iron wood-stove
Boxes of buttons
An old cameo
Split wood in corner
Old sleepy dog on porch
The house on the hill
Where Mom's Granny rocked

16Feb14...

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life goes on

cool as an angels kiss
requires a crackling fire
moderator of my world
held in a cast iron stove.

first admission that seasons
are fickle, change inevitable,
rolling on through time 
never quite the same.

gazing out through sheltering glass
my mind touches all that is familiar
trees, garden of drowsy flowers
up the path to the red door.

wherein I wait for…...

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