Straw Poems - Poems about Straw

The Second To The Last Straw

The Second To The Last Straw

Just Forgiving One More Time,
This Isn’t A Super-Wide Camel's
Back With A Minor Tolerance In Mind.

The Conditions For Unconditional
Can Quickly Toughen Love To Scars.

There Maybe Something Out Of
Place I Can Rearrange… 

Ummm,
Depending 
How 
You Really 
Are.

Nope.
Whatever.
Closed.

Sorry.

-Gray Squirrel

07-27-2025

Crusible

KERATIN is extracted from
cows hooves to make to
make foam for fire extinguishers.
............................................

They butchered the shank
to make disks
to serve with beef cheeks.
the wine sauce would be cooked
separate and and made of
wine
chicken feet
thyme
bay leaves
cayenne
carrots
garlic
onions
sun dried tomato's
 3 anchovies


we would need
 15 pounds of cheeks
20 pounds of shanks
6 pounds of chicken feet
( to make chicken stock)

the oniony, tender

Poppies in the Corn

Soft flimsy red moths
settled like starving locusts
over brittle straw

Feathers or Straw

Feathers or Straw
Miracle Man
8/6/2024

Peace of mind catnaps,
on the bed of soft feathers;
not anxiety.

THE STRAW

I am scared, especially when that
Thought crosses my mind.
It’s like strolling past an expensive boutique,
Where beautiful pieces catch my eye,
Yet remain just out of reach.
Still, I pause to admire them,
Rather than altering my path.
For I know they are worth the longing.

It might be hard to wait for
A dream that may never come true,
But giving up

Blow bubbles in the juice with the straw

Having a neighbourhood is not the best to be honest.
I read the book of brotherhood of the rose on the bench.
My eyes were itching,
Falling close, often times.
I haven't slept days.
My bag was feeling comfy imagening by it being a pillow.
,,sleeping here won't be bad."
I had a short skirt on, a long with shirt and black

Fukuda Chiyo-ni haiku translations 1

Fukuda Chiyo-ni Haiku

Fukuda Chiyo-ni (1703-1775) was a Japanese poet and painter of the Edo period, also known as Kaga no Chiyo.

Because morning glories
held my well-bucket hostage
I went begging for water!
—Chiyo-ni, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Chiyo-ni wrote the next poem in calligraphy on a portrait of Matsuo Basho.

To listen, fine ...
fine also not to echo,
nightingale.
—Chiyo-ni,

Mus Musculus

Amidst summer’s day
Post middle school finale
In the concrete valley
A vanguard viking lay

We gathered as a ragtag crew
Peeled his corpse off the floor
Carrying him, despite the gore.
To the stream, as we knew what to do

Fashioning a mausoleum of straw
Hoping he felt no disdain,
His grave enveloped in flame
And gently floated away.

It was there I thought to myself,
“What

Scarecrows

Scarecrows
Birds foes

Farmland
They stand

Dress codes
Old clothes

Plus hat
With that

Deploy
Decoy

Away
Birds stay

No fear
This year

Good yield
From field

Without
A doubt

The best
Harvest

Backed by 
Straw guy

Straw gal 
As well.

(The girl scarecrows do well too lol)

    24.08.23

Autumn By Straw Light

Between the reaching shades of tall trees
copper-leafed hillocks’ catch fire,
ghost flames
burnish the slow stealth of evening.

A translucent straw-light
seen only through the thumb hole 
of a painter’s pallet,
or in that late sunlit wash, that blooms 
so openly that eyes miss it.

Redolent are the long shadows
dipped as they are in rich earthy scents.
The flaxen hay is layered

Camel Back Straw Broken Into 2

Gimme your best shot

Why the hell not

And let the both of us

Play an unfriendly game

Of pick up Camel

Straw's and stick's 

And the winner

Is or will be decided

By whomever

Break's as many backs 

As either you or I

Or at very least

Failing that

Gets the most backs up

And being it's a Camel

It sure as hell

Has to be at very

Nebraska Straw Wanted Fancy

Nebraska straw was irritated to be woven into a hat
I am as plain as a calf, lion, hoot owl, corncob and bat.
you are a beginning, her grandma told her; do not give up.
especially if you are adopted by the lovely miss buttercup.

Buttercup was a fashion diva who lived on both of their farms.
she enjoyed decorating

The Final Straw

Cynthia Kwiecinski and Suzanne Colby
  You've broken every rule of civility
  With the execrable decision you made recently

  You withdrew a job offer from a school superintendent
  for addressing you as 'Ladies' in an acceptance email
  You claim the term constitutes a micro-aggression'  
  But it's you abominations

Memory of Allys

Ammonia-ed clumps of damp, dunged straw
forked onto her cold barrow, then rolled outside.
Across the field where her ninety pounds
thrust up the dray atop a mulching mound! 
Nineteen times before the sour dregs 
are swallowed by the day.
Bowed tendons stripe her calloused palms with pain. 
She racks each open with a metal comb 
to rake her

Home From School

Home from School

 A little stream by the village bridge.
Clear cold water over jagged stones
 searched for pieces of china in the mud
as we meandered slowly home.

 Once-treasured patterns and bits of bones and
 a black eel,rolling wave,burrowing far.
  We sucked sweet nectar from fuchsia flowers 
 on our way home from school 

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