Violet Jessup -
your fate was messed up.
You could say it really stank,
being on the Olympic, Titanic, and Brittanic when they sank.
Stephen Dennison
Dined on potatoes and venison,
but he got an urge, and stole some candy,
spent thirty years in prison. Ain't that dandy?
Mary, Queen of Scots -
was accused of approving plots.
That's what Queen Elizabeth said,
while ordering the removal of her head.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
was partial to venison.
While writing 'Tears, Idle Tears'
he downed uncounted beers.
Thanksgiving Day, I’m especially thankful for these three
Apple Pie, Mom, and my Country
As for the delicious stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberry jelly, green beans
brown rice, potato salad, vegetable salad, guacamole, turkey, venison …
… and ALL THE REST ~ too numerous to mention
~ Happy . Thanksgiving . Everyone ! ~
~ and you too, Pangie, up there in Heaven ! ~
[Can I cry now? I miss Pangie something terrible. ~ gw]
O parachute, thy rider.
How to keep one aloft?
Spread thy edges to defer!
He who squatted coughed!
Unity, sing in unison.
Each louder than the last?
Vittle, side with venison?
Legs in traction plast!
Thus refuted, O my rock?
Lines around in chalk.
Broken is the bowl, O block.
Corn, thy tattered stalk.
So you've been feeling stifled?
Just flicker as you fall.
Soldiers, how you rifled!
O banshee, how you call!
Ghoulish was the repast grim?
Crater, nurse thy rim.
Light of harpsichord, draw dim.
How about her or him?
Rain on us, O lightning!
O thunder, now to roll!
Fain would it be frightening?
Soak in gin, my soul!
The cone or the caldera?
What kind of choice is this?
Ergo, O my era...
O death gods, blow a kiss...
On a hunting trip Yosemite Sam
shot up a loose can of spam
didn't taste like his usual venison
so took for precaution a spoonful of medicine
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
you are flying on a hazy dream carpet —
floating up there, above these old streets,
these ancient genuflecting pines and cedars,
rising above the sleeping dead on Broadway,
soaring now through the white tombstones—
the low walnut branches that flail like hungry cats.
now the sudden rush out of death’s hand we fly,
whirring by faster than blood flow in a silver sieve,
in and out of the shadowed majesties far inside,
these soul itchers that foretell the coming andantes,
here in this perfumed dreamland with only you,
as we seep through the spinning pines and cedars,
the long extending blood rivers naked with stones,
of venison death and fish spasms in the final sun.
Blue skies are cloudy, blanketed in grey,
yet on this muggy, miserable day,
I ride off to my favorite café;
where they serve venison as an entree
and a baked Alaska for dessert; yea!
As the jute box plays, I hear a horse neigh,
a brindled mustang that goes by Jose.
And even though this sounds like a cliché,
Jose enjoys listening to reggae.
(Monorhyme)
11/01/2022
MonoMixoRhyme Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
Used How Many Syllables
64 Words
The three coyotes
Watched this all unfold
Waiting for Sam to disappear
They knew they had a half
An hour
Before the OSP would appear
They pounced on Maria
Snarling hungry scarfing her
Drinking up her fresh blood
Ripping her Up for dinner,
Enjoying their unexpected
venison feast.
Jason the head coyote,
told the others
“Well, Sam might be a good guy,
For a human.
Tried to do the right thing,
But he killed her
And she died
For us to enjoy dinner.
Such is the way
Of the world
My brothers.
But he did us a favor
Maria is fresh meat
And we will feast well
Tonight, my brothers.
We will eat her up
But leave some
For our brothers,
The vultures,
Who are circling above
Patiently waiting
Their turn to have dinner.”
The OSP came
In due course
Saw the vultures
Finishing their dinner
Chased them off
Heard the contended coyotes
Howling at the moon
They called Sam Adams up
Said there was nothing
They could do
But let nature
Take its course.
Thus ended Maria’s
Close encounter
With humankind.
Valentine’s day supper
Village restaurant booked
Vexed diners! We wait for
Venison steak meals but
Violins screeched out six
Viennese waltzes, the
Very drunk chef is sacked!
This is based on a true experience, with some poetic licence it was my birthday not Valentine day and we were having beef steak not Venison. My husband ordered a starter and main whilst I’d opted a beef main course and dessert. The starter arrived, then we waited and waited but there was no sign of the main course. We asked when the meals would arrive and were told there was a ‘problem in the kitchen’. Then the 2 young waitresses got out violins and tried to entertain us. About an hour later we were given badly cooked meals then offered free desserts which we declined as we just wanted to leave. We later discovered the chef had been very drunk and got sacked and the owner had tried their best to cook the meals. The fact the waitresses had the violins made me suspect it wasn't the first time there had been issues with the chef. Not long afterwards the restaurant closed down.
Pleiades V Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Merryman
05/06/21
The hunters could not find her
Venison they desired to eat
Then her carcass lay at the edge
Of an open field, next to the deep woods
Written: 4/4/2019
Taken from the poem "Dry"
Contest: Liberum Divisa II
Sponsor: Gregory R. Barden
THOU GOOD AND FAITHFUL FRIEND
Farewell, thou good and faithful oven mitt.
Thou hast served thy time but now must leave.
But ere thou goest, let us reminisce a bit
About the things thou helped me to achieve
My mother, who didst seek to teach me culinary art,
Gave thee to me in fifteen ninety-three
And told me thou wouldst play thy part
In making a successful cook of me.
We shared together good and bad of course;
Dost thou recall the early bread that never rose
Or venison I somehow made resemble horse?
And those sweetmeats tasting like God only knows?
But we stuck at it, thee and me
And now we have respect throughout the land.
We cook for banquets for nobility.
But I would nothing be if thou wert not on hand
But now alas, my friend, thou wearest thin
And ‘tis the time for you to quit.
Time now to cast thee in the bin.
Farewell, thou good and faithful oven mitt
5th May 2020
The Potholder poetry contest
Sponsor - Craig Cornish
Wild as ivy vines climbing up pines,
in the outskirts of nature
where mountain lions purr,
my lungs expand like the open land.
Breathing in peace, as rippling as a creek,
watching an eagle snatch up salmon,
I witness the cycle of life: unkind but providing.
Abiding upon a log bench, quenched
with dampened sun, dappled by branch shadows,
trickled with yesterday's torrential rain drench,
I bathe in thankfulness for abundance.
Smoked venison smothered with forged morels
satisfies my wild senses, with plenty to share.
Cares become lost in uncharted territory,
flung to the wild winds, blown like dust
settling upon lawn-like leaves
where fungi's forestry teeth eat them like treats.
3-21-2020
Wild Country Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
The young doe so alive
Brought down by one shot
Way back, several years ago
The hunters could not find her
Venison they desired to eat
Then her carcass lay at the edge
Of an open field next to the deep woods
Slowly
Vultures, crows, bobcats, ants
Ate their fill
Now only dry bones left
Still baked by the sun
My writing has hit a dry spell
Like those dry bones
Baked by the spring sun
All dried up, turned white by the sun
While I sip tea sitting in my cabana, enjoying the nature
I watch two deer playing joyfully as the sun shares
My lovely neighbors are barbequing
Venison is on the menu...I have tears
Writing Challenge 5, March 2019, Four Lines-Poetry Contest
Sponsor Dear Heart
3-24-2019
"Oh, dear. The poor deer --
shot by a poor hunter," they cry
And I truly agree with their "Why
should men hunt merely for sport?"
For what sense does it make
the poor deer's life to abort?
*********
Yet when a deer kills a man
I shall be blunt here:
For that man do they shed a tear?
"Oh, dear. The poor dear..."
And do the deer they confront?
Or does that refined sensibilities affront?
*********
And while we're considering all this
Let's entertain another thought unkind --
Without deer meat, that's venison, in 1621
Today there might not be any Thanksgiving fun
January 04, 2019
Entry in "Food for Thought" contest
Sponsor: Silent One
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