The sky was an iron skillet
To heaven it crept and filled it
Swallowed the color from every eye
An iron skillet was the sky
The earth no glint of morning touched
Fields swept black, the horizon crushed
To dawn the dark would not give birth
No glint of morning touched the earth
On the galvanized drummed the rain
Rivulets streaked the window pane
The ground it splattered and atomized
The rain drummed on the galvanized
Warm and tight you wrapped around me
In morningtide we could not see
I loved you through that stormy night
You wrapped around me warm and tight
September 10, 2022
Swap Quatrain Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
My electric skillet has such a sizzle, through and through
She makes pancakes and eggs, bacon and hamburgers too
I love the smells she gives me before she is through
With a simple turn of the dial, she knows what to do!
She is easy to use, I just plug her in and give her the reins.
She is in control, for she has such electronic brains!
I throw in some molasses with tasty sugar canes
And sit back and watch, she cooks up my grains.
Her pancakes are a treat, an eater’s delight.
Her warmed up ham patties taste exactly right.
I can use my electric skillet breakfast, noon and night.
I smile at her in the morning, when I turn on the light.
God's greenest, avocados, sliced in a bright red ceramic bowl
Mix them with eggs and they dance with exuberant cowboy soul!
Ever observe them twirling in that griddle?
It indeed takes a Poet to see them do the "allemand left"right in the middle,
to the sounds of a fiddle!
The eggs twirl the fullest in bright, pretty, paisley cowgirl skirts.
Such a simple task, it fills me with Western imagination and American mirth.
May 16, 2020
7pm PST
Poem 1,273
ticket
skillet
biscuit
brisket
A ticket at the public skillet,
buys a warm biscuit with beef brisket.
8/9/19
Contest: Your Turn For A Tyburn Contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Many are the memories of Hoosier farm life as a lad that I recall.
One was what Dad called 'hog renderin' that occurred every fall.
When he proclaimed the old boar had reached his maximum weight,
That meant for sure that the old feller was soon to meet his fate!.
After Dad did him in, puttin' an end to his squeals,
He was hoisted by block and tackle and strung up by his heels.
Dad wielded his butchers' knife with the deftness of a surgeon's hand,
Carvin' out loins, hams and bacon from our late-departed friend!
Curin' bacon was Dad's specialty in which he took great pride.
He performed secret incantations which he never would confide.
Massagin', injectin' stuff and smokin' them again and again,
To ensure they were suitable for Mom's iron skillet fryin' pan!
After milkin' the cows and sloppin' the hogs at the break of dawn,
I could smell the bacon sizzlin' in the skillet as I walked across the lawn!
Enterin' the house the aroma of the bacon wafted about the place.
Even Dad was so anxious to dine that he waived the prayin' of grace!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Skillet is hot
belly is empty
so in goes
the pork cutlets
to fulfill
our needs of
a great supper
to be.
wrote 11-20-08
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