Short Skewer Poems

pork turns to bacon
    goat turns goat stew buchada
        ox turns to skewer...

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Athlete kabob meat to skewer
Olympic games meet the sewer
Those ratings too flat
Create new dangers that
Pander to the TV viewer...

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I don't wish to sound an alarm
But ladies are losing their charm
My thingamabob
Appears shish kabob
And they aim to skewer the farm!...

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Too many kabobs
to skewer
plus bone-dry ribs.

Me?  I’ll stay
with pink lemonade

and watch 
       the turbid sky
and watch
       the stars reload

And so study 
serious stockades a
stick up their collective...

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In the legend of one,William Tell
an archer& Swiss-born rebel
Such accuracy & skilled know-how
but,to an Austrian hat would not bow.

So had to skewer an apple on his son's head
this obedient  lad trembled &said
keep your eye's open father,please
&    dear Papa,do not do not, sneeze...

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Doth fancy edges 
not only for riches 
smooth wealth of finish
leave the rest to timish

tangled mind blemish
thou art has yet to fetch
one most desired edge
leave the rest to dredge

spike with a smooth skewer
and let it be to fewer 
taste of mind such viewer 
brings the sky yet bluer...

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Before you hire that cleaner,
Check their pockets for 3 things that will get your house cleaner.

A wooden toothpick will get rid of the gunk that stops your taps being cleaner,
A wooden oven skewer has a longer reach to make an oven cleaner,
A tooth brush to work its magic to get clean even cleaner....

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It's like grinding-
Thistle-lips when speaking--
Trying to trample,

'Assumption'

Told us melancholy
With which; I wear
Knives-as-skin.

My Cerebellum-doesn't
Know-how-to
--Connect?

Channeling changes, 
You'd rather see
Becomes me.

I listen sideways; stepping
Speech--
I'd eat bramble branches
For impediments of you.

Screaming red-raw-thorns
As they skewer-
My throat.

I giggle blisters instead....

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The leaves they fall like dancing blades,
Forever spinning among the glades.
Glinting like knives they slice and skewer,
Lilting as they reach the sewer.
Carrying them down in rivers of muck,
They run in such numbers, utterly amok!
Emptying into my yard of thorns,
To be put in a pile forever scorned.
They rot, and decay, for hours a day.
Never relenting, never going away.
I watch them as they turn into grass.
Relieving this world finally, at last....

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Towering high the pine tree spies
Darkness gleaming across the skies.
All-embracing limbs it reaches
In all directions it beseeches.
Yearning for ominous actions to end
Locked they hide; secretly they offend.
Veiled is the door guarding treacherous fate
Never exposing; hold and isolate.
Looming colossal to pointed peak
Shadows adorn branches yearning to speak.
Piercing the court’s air the almighty giant cries
Wind: Roar.  Needles: Skewer.  Nothing it denies....

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Kebabs with sumac garnish
                                                            fit for an Angel
                                           veal onions eggplant squash add
                                                           cherry tomatoes
                                                         place onto skewer
                                                              charcoal grill
                                                                   baste !...

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