"kielbasa" poems
Inspired by George Ella Lyon's poem Where I am From
I am from cul-de-sacs
From skinned knees and seven speed bikes
I am from the bewitching perfume of the osmanthus bloom mingling with freshly mown grass
I am from the familiar music of the bubbling creek and the cardinals song
the swish of a golf club and the thud of a soccer ball
I am from hot pavement on bare feet, the taste of honeysuckles, and reaching pine tree forests whose invisible trails and clearings became my secret empire
I am from airplanes and home cooking
From Mary and Mark
northern accents and southern hospitality
I am from "use your manners" and "Not enough month left at the end if the money"
I am from sunday school and patent leather shoes that pinch my toes
from a prayer before dinner that is carved into my brain
I am from poland
from poppyseed kuchen and kielbasa
I am from my grandmother forgetting baking soda in the bread
and then... years later, forgetting me too.
I am from my grandfather's sense of humor
and his unwavering stubbornness.
I am from too many cousins to count
from pinched cheeks and "How you've grown!"
I am from piles of unfinished photo albums
brimming with new adventures, frozen faces, and old memories
I am from the path I carved for myself with tools that my parents bestowed upon me.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
.
****
**** *****
Wiener Pecker U
nit ***** Piece T
ool Thing Shaft
Member Doink
er ***** Cack C
hour Chub Pud
******* Wanki
W a n g D ing
a ling Ding Don
g Kielbasa Brat
worst Meat Pop
sicle Meat ther
mometer Bolog
ny pony Salami
Sausage Tube
steak ****** P
orkSword Nood
le Banana Corn
dog Magic wan
d Staff Divine R
od Love muscle
Third leg Tonsi
l tickler Power
drill Jack hamm
er Wedding tac
kle Bat Club Rod
Pole Joystick Ja
ck-in-the-box S
kin flute D-trai
n Mr . Happy B
a ld - headed yo
gurt slinger Lon
g **** Silver Ji
my Johnson Kn
ob Captain Win
ky One eyed W
illy One eyed M
onster Peter On
e eyed trouser
snake The Sala
mander Horse
**** Lincoln lo
g Tootsie Roll F
Lesh trombone
Meat stick Meat
whistle Dobber
Wanger Woody
Shake weight T
iffy Frank and
the beans Ch o
a d t h e dirty
wise man *****
Harry nut cann
on Flesh flute
Satan's clarinet
Sexophone Th e Mayflower ( on
account of all the Puritans who came
on it ) The Wea p o n of A s s
destruction junk mail
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
Walking down the street
to get me a treat
at the hoagie fest
'cause you know they are the best
I saw some kielbasa
with some seilgasa
in a brown dish
and it was better than fish
but they were ignored
like a bored board
because hoagie fest is back
and i brought me a sack
'cause i dont wanna lack
any hoagies in my meat sack
but then i got lost
on my way
and i had to say
that it would cost
the big mayne
like any gayme
under the sea
is where i will be
in an octopusses garden
in the shade
cause pulp is gross
in all gardens
even if it hardens
katana knife blade stromboli
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 10:43 PM UTC
before the wall
came down,
there were lines
12 hours long
for bread and kielbasa;
and nuclear warheads raced
rhetoric east to west,
and back,
and rhetoric won...
I sat on a train
westbound,
idling on the left side
of the border
the 'gestapos' stormed aboard
with their black leather boots
knee-high;
stern angled faces
missing smiles;
eyes of winter
and steel,
unblinking....blue,
sending chills through
and through
'you,' he said
pointing at me
his open fist
flipping the universal
'come here' signal...
60 minutes later
he conceded...
reluctantly...
the 15-year old
black face smiling
in the mug shot
on my passport
was indeed....me
not some ****** student
trying to flee
the misery
behind those curtains
to freedom...
without walls 12-feet high
topped by razor-edged rolls
of barbed wire;
without food lines
12-hours long;
where choice
and opportunity
know no bounds...
~ P (Pablo)
(8/7/2013)
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 12:44 PM UTC
It's about Kielbasa,
This sausage.
This is the age.
Theres nothing better about a girl,
If she likes...
Kielbasa.....
Better than fish.....
Cause I mean.
Plunk it in my duts,
Why you rough?
To be so jagged is to be cuffed,
By meat links.
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 1:12 AM UTC
are the walls talking?
it’s the neighbor’s dog across the street
wailing over your ugly unkempt lawn.
is the staircase creaking?
you forgot to take your coffee hot this morning,
get a grip.
is my kielbasa burning?
you put plastic on the stove.
you put plastic on the ******* stove.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
before the wall
came down,
there were lines
12 hours long
for bread and kielbasa
and nuclear warheads raced
rhetoric east to west,
and back,
and rhetoric won
i sat on a train
westbound,
idling on the left side
of the border
ten 'gestapos' stormed aboard,
black leather boots
knee-high;
stern angled faces
missing smiles;
eyes of winter
and steel,
unblinking - blue,
sending chills through
and through
'you,' he said
pointing at me
open fist
flipping the universal
'come here' sign
60 minutes later
he conceded,
reluctantly
the 15-year old
black face smiling
in the mug shot
on my passport
was indeed - me
not some ****** student
trying to flee
the misery
behind those iron curtains
to freedom
without walls 12-feet high
topped by razor-edged rolls
of barbed wire;
without food lines
12-hours long;
where choice
and opportunity
know no bounds.
~ P
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 5:18 AM UTC
My Grandmother loves cussing
she loves laughter, and artwork,
she used to be a Nun
and her Catholicism runs as thick and deep as the veins of coal beneath the city.
When the pope was named, she wept for joy
"A progressive! There is still good in the church!"
The dinner she made that night,
Kielbasa, pirogies,
my atheist parents sat by nervously.
My Grandmother cares not for your faith, though
she cares for your soul.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 9:18 AM UTC
Annie’s jagged features create an ominous shadow
Known locally as the kielbasa murderer,
She dispatched her victims with wretched exuberance.
She hunted them while they languished in public spaces
Masquerading as an angel of mercy, she offered food and drink,
Warm blankets, and kind, uplifting words.
False hope for those whose sustenance she had poisoned.
When her evil was complete
The dead were gently covered
A small shrine constructed
And a perfumed goodbye note placed nearby.
"Dear Beloved,
I could no longer bear your suffering
This last measure of comfort is given with all of my love
To assist your transition to a higher place.
With Radiant Peace,
Annie"
Annie helped more than 200 souls transition to a higher place
Then she disappeared.
Dead?
Imprisoned?
Or just moved on…
No one knows for sure.
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 10:33 AM UTC
I’d like more
than one death knell,
I’d like a
personal
bottle of lightning,
that I’ve caught for
my very own.
I’d give up that
little **** of a
rat-terrier if
it could,
somehow,
transmogrify
into a wolf
or
a panther.
I’d like
a jet-black
Camero,
with tires
made of fire
and seats made
of smoke.
I think that
a little toxic-waste
is good for you.
(keeps ya sharp, yeah?)
I think
that a man,
a woman,
hell,
any human
worth a ****
ought to be able
to ride into battle
on a goat, a *******
or a *************
llama
and
know in their
hearts that they are the master
of their own destiny.
It’s a rough sea,
it always will be.
That’s life.
Be sad,
mad,
a little depressed,
but,
stay here,
because there’s
kielbasa sandwiches
with mustard and
onions.
There are people
that love you,
there are books,
songs,
flicker shows
to see.
The sharks bite,
the octopi might
squeeze,
the rays might sting.
None of it means
anything,
if you don’t…
Take off the floaties
and swim.
***
-JBClaywell
© P&Z Publications 2019
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
# The Hostess
Crowned in Afro-tribal headdress,
On her chest a Slavic tunic;
Appearing as a prophetess
Or a schizophrenic ******
On her wrists ring Irish bangles—
Wrapped round her waist a bright sarong;
On her breast a pendant dangles
Like some Oriental gong.
Multi-kulti represented
As a woman, weirdly dressed.
Every ethnic group is feted
On arrival to the West.
The Dinner
Everybody bring your dish!
The ethnic potluck has begun.
Afterwards your guts will wish
Your culture had remained as one.
Foods collide and almost mingle
In the cultural melting ***
Yet it’s hard to find a single
Way to describe this mixed-up lot.
Curry mingles with Kielbasa
Chinese dumplings, Jello, slaw
Deviled eggs, the odd samosa
Beans and rice, cheap sushi raw.
Soul food, Kimchi, Spanish rice,
Pad-Thai, grits, potato salad;
Gastronomic paradise?
Or a nauseating ballad . . .
Out of many, not quite one—
You bravely burp. It’s quite diverse . . .
But as your stomach comes undone
Digestion goes from sad to worse.
E pluribus to Alka-Seltze®
Groaning in your bed at three:
Let it fizz and hope it helps, sir
Lest you doubt diversity…
I’m Diversity. I am strength!
Sings the undigested food.
Perhaps we all shall know, at length
If global change was for the good.
Apr 29, 2023
Apr 29, 2023 at 3:52 PM UTC