Short What Are You Stewing About Poems

What are you stewing?
Please take out your trash before
it takes over you....

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Many nights
Sitting
Wondering
Endless thoughts
Stewing
Building
Anticipation
Waiting to see you again...

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O the stew of human progress
The feast of our enterprise 
Simmered long enough now
For society to settle
The Fatheads
Have risen to the top




***...

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There was an old witch who was stewing
She didn't know what she was doing
To make it complete
She stirred with her feet
I think she should just stick to brewing...

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Watermelon, honeydew
   Cantaloupe and peaches too
With Nature's nectar all imbued
   ~ Yet none as sweet as you

Tea steeping, coffee brewing
   Glazed honey-carrots stewing
Their aromas, so inviting
   ~ Only you do I delight in...

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No one listens, although ear hears
Frigid minds, so brittle
We feel not bliss, that heart endears
See how habits whittle

We don’t learn, till we burn
Stewing in pathways stern
Till ego we upturn

Wisdom glistens 
No one listens

24-December-2021
Quietus ...

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I had a goat whose name was Billy
who grazed in places that were hilly
he never complained
in sunshine or rain
and he even ate all of the lilies

But one day Billy got into the pot
and then he stumbled around like a sot
He ate all my weed
he was greedy indeed
 So now he is stewing with the carrots...

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From the corners of my room 
I take out my broom and sweep
Sweep my thoughts that loom 

Poetry feelings brewing stewing 
The ingredients will always change 
No truth or lie just imagination supply 

Behold the poet no limits to try 
What lies behind the keyhole 
Each corner of my room surprise...

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Spade of heart drenches our intent
More than once , we question this fate
When blazed nights consume us
Disagreements stewing
About unresolved qualms . 
Rehash of doubt lingers. Silence. 
We breathe in constant light’s fondness.


Hexastich It Contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud
24 May 2020...

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For much of my life, friends I made with ease until I grew an attitude, riding on a high horse, paternalising associates and acquaintances, pushing friends around, putting on airs they found disturbing, disgusting, despicable and demeaning...

My bad attitude so
incensed friends they chose to scram
demanding I reform....

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Tingling toes
of the megabyte cavalry
callouses scraping
along private roads
Cascading matrices
on the plasma periphery
peasantry bleating
on official commands
Stewing a cauldron
a festering foment
watering nations
from acid-soaked cans
BE SAFE!
say the oracles
so buying a check
but electing the cavalry
leaves the infantry wet...

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joyful
                                  enthusiastic, childlike
                            twirling, cartwheeling, playing
                     delight, cheerleader, grump, complainer
                             stewing, pouting, frowning
                                  downtrodden cynical
                                          depressed...

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From my component perspective
in the stewing pious chatter
does freedom of truth reflective
alter all forces that matter
without loving the reflection
while stumbling up the ladder
since we all share this collection,
ills shaking us until madder,
raging at injustice of will
amassing with that sweaty fist
any method that makes us kill
our sovereign duty to resist....

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It’s up to us movers and shakers in this world
to get things done that need doing.
You and I know full well that others will sit still and wait,
for us to get the old pot stewing.

The movers and shakers are lonely at the top,
but that is their residence by choice.
It is they who get things done and make all the plans,
and the ones who aren’t afraid to raise their voice....

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The sky is gloomy
The sun doesn’t shine
My heart feels moody
And not so fine

Why does it not pour
Like tears that fall?
Why does it not roar
With thunder’s call?

Anger simmers ‘neath
The darkened clouds
Salt drops form a wreath
As black mood shrouds

A storm is brewing
Within my soul
And I’m left stewing
In dungeon hole


06.16.2021
...

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They say the world is getting warmer, 
but were just stewing in our hate.
Seems pleasure cant come quick enough, 
enjoyments always late.
No one seems to sit for long, 
to restless just to wait.
The differences between all men, 
are really not that great.
We better learn to love, 
and now, 
before it is to late.
As busy as we seem to be, 
seems love just has to wait. 
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )...

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Back when pots were freshly stewing;
Hoping for a beggars feast at a place we all were viewing.
Fairytales with lovers leap a woman’s flowing hair
Flowers written for a love asking love me if you dare.
We gave our words and pledged our heart’s;
We cried for those who hid behind the hedge.
We built ourselves a special place with murals in the park;
And I will always know this place it’s a road that’s cut and marked...

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Machiavelli  s'been stewing 
teardrops in the Soup

Stooping to new lows 
for SYMPATHY 
stirring chickens in the coop

Seems some folks will do anything 
for what they think is fame
Swiss cheese stories for glory
Lordy! Whaddah' shame!

Reminds me of two classic movies...
"Freddie Lives" and the other is 
"The Crying Game"...
but this one's very unbelievable, it ain't scary,
and it's much
MUCH more lame!~...

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To any of you this happened to, get busy.
Notify PS.
There is no point in me posting~a thing!
I am in a state of distress.

Why struggle to pen at all....
When you all get false notications?

There's not one thing I can do.
But this leaves me stewing at the Soup.

I just renewed my membership, too.
To keep being part of you.

Thanks, Tom for letting me know.
Hope to hear from more of you.

Pangie xx


July 31, 2029...

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I sit hearing the knock
The door standing shut and seeing no light
Me refusing to break the lock
Man sitting and stewing in the night.

Jesus waiting beyond the door
His voice calling out to me
Stones beating in my chest
Jesus is winning you see..

I crack the door at his knock
The stones crumbling to sand
Light is flooding my house
Man praying as he planned.

Jesus standing inside the door
My knees buckling to the floor....

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Freshening
of the chair-wherewithal
I sit and meet
the stewing news
with hearty meat and veg
The idleness
unspoken here -
here I right
no wrongs
I just belong
to the sect
that sits upon
the court that no one hears
I write
of unimportant
matters that are detained
chained to a box
a talking box
How strange
our ancestors 
would find the lies
between the perfect
teeth
of time
though linked
to an intersectional ginormous behind

5/7/2022...

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She had spells other witches only dreamed of doing.
Her pot was full of exotic homemade recipes she had stewing.
Her spells were legendary, her ingenuity was amazing.
Goats, cows and chickens were in her kitchen, grazing.

She calls the animals, and they come, bending to her will.
A cardinal and rooster just flew into her open windowsill.
What concoctions will she invent today? The other witches wonder.
She brings on a storm complete with lightning and thunder....

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MADE

of sock puppets, dunk tanks and bumper cars.

socks with holes, holes for heads
all wet, stinky in fact

picture the bumper cars
bumping, bruising
each choosing their own way
headed for you and me
out of control

nothing seems to matter
it’s all clatter
“Collateral damage,”
that’s all

no matter
towns burning
blue uniforms stewing
little ones, immovable,
staring

deck of cards, blue and red
thrown sky high

sobering thought…
God is watching

8/19/2020...

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