Short Supping Poems

       Irene, dear cat
       Ate a fat rat
       Supping on this dish
       Now eyes my goldfish


       February 10, 2020
       4pm PST


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They maneuver more slowly now
a hum of wings and shuffling feet
trailing the mist of fading warmth
staying closer to home and hive
supping on summer’s last morsels
collecting the nectar of dreams
to nurture the promise of hope


©9/6/2019

FAREWELL, SUMMER poetry Contest
Nette Onclaud - sponsor...

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So many memories
pass
So many friends go
fading with time
So long ago
laughter
was all that was heard
 Now silence is all that's heard
it seems to be without reason
many have known joy
while supping with pain
 So much is gone
hidden behind shades of gray
it's hard enough to be alone
few knows what it means to cry
 So many memories...

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Suddenly it's Spring!
Flowers burst in bloom,
Scent of their perfume 
draws bees for supping.
It's a wondrous thing!

Birds converging,
Chicks emerging,  
New life abounds
amid sweet sounds.

Warm breeze blows
Sunlight glows
Green meadows

revive,
alive,

thrive.



March 6, 2021
Spring Diminished Hexaverse
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
*******************...

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palm me them poems
oh ye noble fright face of love
crawl from me on spidering digits
webbing for butterflies sighs regret
listen for the howling horror moons
consume your mind though vessels
supping doom from reluctant paths
greet from me these things of desire
lessons for the less wicked no lesson
at
all
crawl from me
oh serpent wings
feather me bleeding
that my slither becomes
worn
?...

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Oh to be sailing over the sea,
hull down, with the shore on the lee.
Hearing the sound of water dashing past the hull,
and the mournful cry of a ravenous gull.
Pitting ones skills against natures wiles,
not another soul in sight, for miles, and miles.
Then come the end of the day,
dropping anchor in a small secluded bay.
Relaxing in the cockpit, supping a drink,
watching the sun, as below the horizon it doth slowly sink....

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Oh to be sailing over the sea,
hull down, with the shore on the lee.
Hearing the sound of water dashing past the hull,
and the mournful cry of a ravenous gull.
Pitting ones skills against natures wiles,
not another soul in sight, for miles, and miles.
Then come the end of the day,
dropping anchor in a small secluded bay.
Relaxing in the cockpit, supping a drink,
watching the sun, as below the horizon it doth slowly sink....

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my
weakness
but give me strength
to rip reality like shredded paper edges
ripping out her sad parts
betrothing ever letter
bleeding every ink on
every supping page and parch
meant with meaning
and this- withm-is just a fraction
cloud licks sexily against
the sun
clamour for her
style was less
pert in her inflection
beauty is looking for a new job
class in the contours of her ass
sighs caught between her thighs
weak as i am...

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In magnificent memory of Vee See’s zaniest chimpanzee
Probably discussed by merry monkey’s chipping chickadee
Readily and aptly apparent by three who seldom agree
Incredibly supping with Mamie, Marjorie and Mr. Paul Klee

Please pass the honey and the light brie said brazen bumblebee.
No one capably eats brie with lemon tea said a flickering flea.
Advice is free but listen, skinny skeleton, I dare you to try and oversee.
Chimpanzee and chickadee fell down laughing at this on one knee....

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