Short Crone Poems

Old crone breathed the smell of death insane with gladness...

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Any chick is prone 
to become a crone.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014...

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spotted grandma's hands
lovingly helping others
handed down softly...

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Stirring up love with her chant.
Frogs eyes, Bats wings and the lips of an Ant....

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A barmaid with bosom to spare
Decided they needed more air
A crone on a stool
Saw all the men drool
Since their chests were covered in hair!...

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She is a cartoon 
a sketch of her former self
she is a comic
no one sees her anymore
she is older now
opinions have atrophied
an invisible old crone, me....

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An old crone who was living in Moffett 
Sold all her household wares for a profit 
She was simply bold, 
[At least I am told], 
To stash all the money in her soffit....

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(aka "Trump's Bottom Line")

Cartel Jesus launched an old crone
High over Trump's Wall on a drone
Our Border Patrol
Went out of control
Snapping photos with their iPhone!...

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cackling creepy cantankerous caustic crone
frightfully ferocious, fanatical, and I’m all alone
I hide in a boot, going as far as I dare go.
She shoves in her foot. Immediate woe!...

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Wicked aged woman,
wreaking harm with cauldron,
warty nose, crafty eyes;
Wisdom sees through dark guise!
When riding purple broom,
wild crone cackles at moon.
Warblers on crimson skies....

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No one liked The Old Crone Nose she was simply so odd
Warned to stay away from her by our prissy mothers
Befriended by another woman Crazy Old Dodd
Now neither of them needed any of us others...

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Contrived to be relevant
An extreme subversive 
of distorted concoctions
While having his stricken soul bare
And denigrated to a faceless crone
For his vicissitudes are an improbable casualty
Of a broken soul.......

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crone control your dragon dragging it's claw
crone your claw dragging too… dragons two
both of you, yes, you anger it's fire to flame
crone soothe your dragon its deep scaly skin
crone your scaly skin too… soothing dragons...

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Crazy Cat Lady
sat in the rocking chair
her dress quite fady
her colour so fair
but the felines around
gave me the creeps
even in this roaring crowd
i could hear her weep
for she was quite alone
i saw when looked at me the crone.......

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An miserable old crone lived down the way
Invited young men into her house to play,
I can't imagine it, really,
It seems to me perfectly silly
She wouldn’t give us old men the time of day.

written September 25, 2021...

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Bound up, restrained
my skin's too tight,
I want to howl the moon.

I wring my hands
fright is my plight
ev'ning comes too soon.

Mirrors quiver
in ambient light
to an aged crone, I croon.

No where to run
at each twilight
alone, inside, marooned....

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The older woman is seasoned, sassy and secretive, just ask Ms Mim
She can unleash her confidences, but she has learned to keep them
Knowing when to keep quiet, is learned in the hardest of ways
But the experienced crone realizes it makes for much better days...

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She has fourteen ticks on her back
And she is still alive
I thought she would be dead by number five

How many ticks is it going to take
to kill this old broad, do I buy a snake?

Ticks on her back. How many do you see?
I wish this old crone was anyone except me....

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I jump up with glee
let the old lady do it
certainly they mean me

In the school yard
I am the only crone here
happy to play

no retirement
I could not stand being home
bring the body bag

children are cheering
the soccer ball comes my way
it goes to the moon...

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I can read your mind she says
she is a crone, old and wizened
Arrogant and haughty, aloof, opinionated
But not magical or empathetic
She is not my idea of goodness
I paste a frozen smile on my face
which she is not wise enough to read or understand
and go another direction...

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Cinderella
Lass knew
Glass shoe

The Emperor’s new clothes
So rich
No stitch

Goldilocks and the Three Bears
Sees Ted
Flees bed

Hansel and Gretel
Cake Home
Bake Crone

The Three little Pigs
Skilled pigs
Build digs

Puss in Boots
Odd that
Shod cat...

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muse-demons chant

a heart a lust a thought

Angels throw thrilling light

blinding all eyes

sin stalks grains of life

mixing sun dust forest sea

hate and love burn one face

tears fall to try

to grace the gown’d crone


in her webbed rocking chair

as bread turns to stone…...

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They never know what a crone like me will do
I have news for them
I never know myself
Sometimes God has me do things that make no sense
I am wondering “Where did that idea come from?”
especially when it works beautifully.
Forgetting for two seconds
that I have never ever
been in charge of me....

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A man went to the mountain
He heard there was a stone fountain
On a steep flat top
He came to a stop

A rock got loose
He had to choose
A way to avoid the stone
So he stood still like a crone

It fell to the ground
To join a great mound 
To find the stone fountain
He continued up the mountain...

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Looked in a mud puddle and saw a witch.
She laughed at me. The mean ‘ole crone.
I was not happy certainly not amused.
Her eyes were as dark as a cave without light.
She crooked her finger and tried to speak.
I ran as if bowels of hell were waiting.
Hair stood straight up as I heard her witch cackles....

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