Short Cranking Poems

This color turns
a tight circle (to the right)
trailing vapor
of yellow--
all the while
cranking the steering wheel
greener....

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Clicking ticks in 12 hours of seconds
Long-cased box silently beckons
Obediently, the pendulum swinging sings
Cranking frank of old grandfathers hands
Keeper keeps him pristine where he stands...

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Given I've cursed myself
writing the title first,
I'll treat myself to a scribble,
poorly written, pointless lines
babbling, bubbling sloppily,
like those people I envy,
cranking it out without thought...

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Nappy time is fast approaching, hit my head on the keyboard
That should be a pretty good sign it's perhaps time to snore
When we reach a hundred
Just stay all day in bed
Waste of time getting up and cranking up the old Ford...

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Rain dropping
Bird falling
Roof cranking
Body moving
Out going
Bird shaking
Bird keeping
Food giving
Heat lacking
Cold catching
Unknowing
Death knocking
Night falling
Day breaking
Bird checking
Bird dead
Grave made
Bird buried
The End....

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shrubby hills 
to right
a world of ocean
to left 
cranking pedals
smooth my trail,

can't hear anything,

not even conscious. 
wind surfaces to the drum

pedals push
and push while the 
ocean rocks and rolls

blue is my serenity,
wind is my savior,
pedals are angelic...

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Cronkite did the talking.
Nixon started walking.
Through the rabbit's ears 
we saw it all.
Windows down by cranking.
Kids still got a spanking.
Food stamps were on paper
not on cards.
Pryor told the jokes.
Everybody smoked.
Man things were different
way back then....

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The house is full
Kids are cranking out the tunes
Horseshoes are flying
Kicking down the dunes

Speakers are shaking
Electric guitars are blaring
BBQ is cooking
Neighbors are starring

Kids are rocking
I'm trying to get to bed
Oh, I give up
Rocking the house instead!...

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Sitting under a tree
while it's dark at three

Alone in the rainy storm with this music box
waiting for the sun to shine so opportunity knocks

Cranking the key to commence a soft song
in order to stay strong

Hours pass and the sun comes out
finally gaining the chance to wander about...

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Roaming over the wheatfields
     their joints a-cranking
   insecticide fog blankets the air
     Oklahoma dustbowl bleeds 

   Relics of a bygone day, all angles they move
     ravaging fields and pests, pests and fields
   wheels of progress a-churning away
     blackening golden grain
                 ~ pests' entree, noonday...

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I am a painting factory
cranking out eight to ten canvases a week
it is my gemini mentality
it is my high mccormick energy

I am a poetry factory
slapping out seventy poems a week
it is my iowa roots
it is what I know how to do

I am a cartoon factory
scribbling down eight cartoons a day
it is my cross to bear
I blame my mother, the energizer bunny...

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Rust coats the wheels 
beyond appeals;
our halting grind
shall carve behind
the truth of life
shed on their knife.

We’ve laid to waste
by slack and haste
all blessings grown
once called our own
by trusting lies
from fraud’s disguise.

While they juggle
our dire struggle
with childish toys
cranking out noise,
trapped souls despise
each conscious prize....

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‘Go dominate all,
Animals of humanity
And all found within…’
 Are words of divinity!

Praying inside me, 
Contented being in thee,
As pill of life tends to be,
Swallowed thrice per day,
And twinkles with soul met, 
For attractive aroma of the inlet! 

Cranking chapter lees,
Mental intellect bees,
Pill magnificent murmur!  
Life set when topsy-turvy.

© Lucas Mkude
02/07/2013...

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Last night,
You beat my meat and blow my mind
Later, you overwhelm me
With every single grind.
Cranking and cranking
Untill my hunger roars.

When you turn around in that apron
I adore your every curve.
I like it hot and juicy
Alittle pink in the middle.

I can't wait to see that steak
Hit that hot cast iron skillet.

Put some onions on that steak
Perhaps a few mushrooms too.

Girl, you know I love your cooking
But I love my desserts too....

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The dog barked ,
and its puppies yelped,
I was raised,
mulling my eyes,
I got out,
something was definitely wrong,
the winter bit in my bed clothes,
and crapped through legs deep in,
shaking my head,
to drop the drowse,
I began to look for my glasses,
and frantically browsed,
getting them on table,
I put them on,
and went to the door,
cranking it ajar,
I stepped to the kennel,
only to find,
that nothing was wrong,
the canine family,
simply needed more of flannel....

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