I am not a Succotash man.
There is only so much my pallet can stand.
Each portion belongs to its own.
The hype of variety way overblown.
People tell me to change it up
To toss it around inside the mixing cup
To chew and enjoy all as one
Finding pleasure with a garbled chum
For me, I see too much strife
With the heavy-handed spices of life
Swallowing mysteries too hot to handle
Vicariously living in a lurid scandal.
There is only one meal chosen for me.
It’s the one I long for constantly.
A divine dish made from the Chef above
The meal I speak of is you, my love.
I fail, miserably.
Tonight, it was
the mad dash
to the grocery store.
I had just run 6 miles
in the 80-degree dying day
and I smelt like it.
I looked like an extra
from a bad horror movie,
or an escapee
from the local asylum.
My hair was loose
and wild, a half-made
nest for the robins,
no doubt.
My makeup had
rearranged itself
in odd places
across my face.
I just needed coke,
chips, and who knows
what else.
No one was looking at me
and I wasn't looking at them,
until...
"Miss Jen!"
Ahh!
I've been spotted!
I spoke in mumbles
and the usual
babbling nonsense
and sculked away
after I met
the whole, unimpressed
family.
I managed a joke,
horrible and trying,
yet there was
mutual understanding
in all our fake chuckling.
I was wearing my black
bike shorts, Panama Rocks
tee shirt, pink sneakers,
and I smelt to high heaven.
I grabbed a jar of triple
succotash, as if
intentionally.
Earlier, I was well kept
and wearing a ladylike dress
to a friend's birthday party.
Then, I had it together.
Who can maintain
that level of normality
for a whole day?
I'm not going
to the grocery store
tomorrow.
What do you want from me I’m Sylvester
I’ve a slippery lisp, wellsth I ain’t Uncle Fester
Tweety's my obsession, he’ths hard to get
Suffering Succotash, I need a cigarette!
Been coughing lately out of breath with regrets
Asthma? Emphysema? Bully pest upsets
My arms akimbo
at foul passing nimbo
Suffering succotash, I need a cigarette!
My love for you is like a crashing plane:
exhilarating pace, without control:
you’re equatorial around the pole.
Why meet my sunshine with torrential rain?
My heart is Dealey Plaza, you’re on Main.
I often think destruction is your goal -
you seem to me a well-intentioned troll.
Profundities, once uttered, are inane:
your utterances, colourfully drab,
are tart as custard, sweet as succotash:
your slow-burn humour, like a smash-and-grab,
resembles credit cards. I’ll stick to cash.
No self-respecting homeless hermit-crab
would ever trade with you. You’re feebly rash.
The cow is gaining on you! My aunt Martha said.
As a dolphin, I was embarrassed. My face got all red.
Bovine is winning! My grandma yelled a warning.
I pushed myself forward with dolphin super zing.
The cow is still coming! My daddy screamed out his face.
Ridiculous this heifer was even a contestant in a dolphin race!
I pushed myself forward the best that I could, hoping the cow….
Would land in water and go plunging down to the bottom somehow.
This cow was super powered, and seemed to be able to fly.
Come on! Yelled my grandma! Give it your best effort SLY!
By this time I had usually won every one of this events races.
I had to do better and I knew it by looking at my family’s faces!
Trip her! Kick her! Get her down! My grandpa Dolphin shrieked.
I knew this was bad sportsmanship, so I ignored him as he squeaked.
The cow began to gloat then, and it made me mad and mean.
I put my flipper out and I heard that heifer scream.
She plunged down in the water with a mighty splash.
That’s the way to do it! Yelled my uncle Sweet Succotash!
My family was cheering all over the place.
I had won the trophy, the loving cup and the race!
My “silliness” hat is atop my head
As I begin yet another day
Who knows where this weird mind of mine
Will take me, who's to say
Could go where no man's tread before
To the outer limits of comedy
On second thought, that's probably not it
Sylvester the Cat is my matey
Thuffering succotash! I'm totally lost
Where's my silliness gene
How could I be so simply darn careless
Silliness is a part of my scene
It defines the jester within my soul
Always been my, “raison d'être”
Betcha you didn't know I was multilingual
No telling how far that'll get ya!
Perhaps the U.N. with its many lingoes
Interpreting the countless speeches
Seems my 'silly' gene is alive and well
Returned from the outer reaches
Tweetie Pie
Knows Sylvester is sly
Of the cat he is wary
What a clever canary!
Sylvester
Will seethe and fester
When Tweety makes a mad dash
He exclaims 'suffering succotash!
Cleritoons Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
09/05/21
canal then paradise
hiatus screaming
seed planted in steamy night
succotash
not my favorite food
is it food or suffering
we weren’t meant to take a break
to plow a mistake
to wait and wait and wait
for Eden
A-d-a-m climax
of nine whole months
tick tock
was there a clock?
the bomb
goes off
the seed itself
was not the error
the mistake was a created thing
thinking God was mistaken
ooh...ooh...he sees the light
it’s too late for time travel
the past is the past
present’s tense
a bottle, tit for tat
he’s drunk on hiatus
2/5/2021
Chantelle Cooke’s Hiatus
usurping the scene
with slurping obscene
sputtering spittle and steam
then spraying a particle beam
that succotash was green
if you know what I mean
(be careful where you eat beans)
12/13/2020
Which Politician Will Pass the Buck
Last time that I looked through thick and thin
All poets would be glad to start all over again
According to gray hair on their chinny, chin, chin
What time and which place should they begin?
Write pathetic poem here and put one there
In case if anyone out in world really will care
Always seem so glad and willing to appreciate
Or in a long grocery store line like to wait.
Forget my ma and me putting a colorful cap
We had several difficulties suffering a mishap
And were about to eat some splendid succotash
But someone from Tanzania threw it in the trash.
We have to and must go search for much more
They do have waiting in an American Dollar store
Not only are they passing but handing out a buck
And some politician came with his huge, big truck.
Come on now!!! You have to chuckle just a tiny bit
Unless on you one of the shoes might happen to fit.
Sounds like Will Rogers, one of my favorites along
with Robert Frost and Ogden Nash. Take those three
and put together and you end up with me, don't you see.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
My 'sillyness' hat is atop my head
As I begin this September day
Who knows where this weird mind of mine
Will take me, who's to say
Could go where no man's tread before
To the outer limits of comedy
On second thought, that's probably not it
Sylvester the Cat is my matey
Thuffering succotash! I'm totally lost
Where's my silliness gene
How could I be so simply darn careless
Silliness is a part of my scene
It defines the jester within my soul
Always been my, “raison d'être”
Betcha you didn't know I was multilingual
No telling how far that'll get ya!
Perhaps the U.N. with its many lingoes
Interpreting the countless speeches
Seems my 'silly' gene is alive and well
Returned from the outer reaches
© Jack Ellison 2013
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