Short Kernels Poems

Gold externals
of kernels sweet
corn culls butter....

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corn kernels applaud
over a circle of flames
metal mushroom bloom...

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the coleoptile
reaching toward sunny yolks —
yellow kernels form...

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I love them, what about you?
those beauties that carry
in their kernels spears of death...

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Forest fires rage
Seed kernels burst from their cage
Rain quenches – Seeds sprout...

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succulent and sweet
kernels unattainable
stuck between my teeth
hastily reaching forward 
A toothpick will do the trick...

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MISS POPCORN

sprouted kernels pop
all over the living room
missing her mouth

11/21/2017...

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peel away green outer husk

sweet yellow plump kernels found

boil first eat with butter


                   P.R.Deremer...

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Kernels in the dark,
                                       Most trusted food in the world,
                                               Eaten sight unseen....

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Kernels popped in olive oil,
Butter-drizzled and
tossed with salt or Parmesan 
or candied as balls!
Versatile delight
in puffs of
white!
...

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Perry was a popcorn-popping pro
He himself announced it was so.
He dipped kernels in a potion
Which started stomachs in motion.
Now the whole town is on the go....

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corny valentine, you are my favorite said hawk.
lend me an ear, honey, but do not stalk

shuck on down to Iowegian town
give me a wave, a smile, not a frown

corny valentine, you are so neat
with your rounded kernels, ever so sweet....

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Juicy, plump rings of summer. 
Spinning round and round -
While bedecked with kernels of dawn. 
What luck I have found!

Unique in your venture-
Riding with the whirls of sweetness. 
Please take me with you!
As we radiate in our greenness....

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Creep, oh centipede! 
    A malady to my cornea. 
Like kernels a decoy
    In my Eden realm. 
I'm infuriate to civility
    Just us serenity intervene. 
Serendipity smock my bones
    In solitude. 
Here it is, your servitude
    Of search....

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Work.
Toil.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
Corn. 
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
Work. 
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013...

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Wanted from the world,
The debt of responsibility
Preys on her mind
And weighs down her soul,
Clinging sticky
Like a spot of amber tree sap,
Cavalierly touched,
And afterwards offensive.
The grinding stone of expectations
Moves stolidly round and
About the kernels of
Vanishing freedom,
Ground into the grit
Of everyday existence....

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Nebraska has turned herself gray early this year
A desolate cornfield stands torn and disheveled
A cold front comes in from the north
She whips a few strands from the stalks
An anticipatory shiver goes through the field
An empty feeling of winter saturates the ground
Deer have decimated the last few corn kernels
Nebraska winters rival those in Michigan...

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Crumbling crinkly, cracker crumbs

into salty, seafood stew,

Mother made our midday meal.

Fast for favorite food we flew.



Gluttony Glenda gulped a glass

of Linda's lovely, lemon tea.

While Will wolfed down whole walnut meats,

carefully crunching kernels free.



"Savages", sister Susan said.

"Politeness, please," our papa pled.



7/4/14



For Dr. Mehta's contest...

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They dipped our being in dirty grease
added a fist full of kernels.
Life turned up the heat
now-one by one we're popping out
little puffy hatchlings -
sweet songs in our beaks.

Growing feathers and talons
ready to fly now 
on updrafts 
of silent song.
Ready to ignite the world
that spit fire on our nest
one by one we'll pluck the rubies
from all of their bloated chests....

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Whom could it be, this professional Poet
  selling his blood for a few kernels of grain

Whom could it be, this professional Poet
  pandering to others in search of a name

Whom could it be, this professional Poet
  drunken talk-show appearance, stumbling again

Whom could it be, this professional Poet
  the strongest of liars—the weakest of men

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)...

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Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  selling his blood for a few kernels of grain

Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  pandering to others in search of a name

Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  drunken talk-show appearance, stumbling again

Whom could it be, this professional Poet,
  the strongest of liars—the weakest of men

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)...

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The corn is sweeping low;
her tasseled head is bent,
as dying souls lament
about the waning glow.
This life too quickly fades,
thin mists that pale the glade.

In furrows dark and dry,
the kernels, hard, that fall
beneath the autumn squall,
now lie alone. Awry
the seed the wind propelled
to propagate the veld.

So life reflects the corn
that dies to bloom reborn.

Copyright, August 16, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson...

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The woods have been gathering here
for long generations,
they have their own arboreal language,
a nocturnal patois
ground out by layers of ligneous skins.
The language is arcane,
it arrives from deep ancestral roots
incantations that turn slowly
into the kernels of long seeded words.

Deep into the night I listen,
then listen yet more
to the garrulous gossiping
of a creaky wooden bed
chatting to a talky timbered floor....

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Nine rivers you swam
Bang, into the marathon
Now six rivers you row
Into the eternal riddle.
Thunder frog-jumps out of mouths
Rain splutters from pale sockets

...yestersay.
Now I adjust my backpack
In memory's frigate.
I try to smile
For I am not alone-nor ever will be-
You answer me in the tree-tops
And in the cowrie-dance:
I peep into tomorrow today
I crack the kernels
In the barns of years and years and years to come....

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There once was an old geezer named bob
who loved to munch on corn on the cob
but since he wore false teeth
kernels got underneath
and so he'd turn them down with a sob.


Sitting on the can he read an add
touting a brand new fancy doodad 
so he pulled up his pants
got some dental implants
and chomps more corn than he ever had.


(Limerick)


04/26/2020
Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Janice Canerdy...

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