Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Marshal Gebbie Apr 2011
I wanted to be there for Parsnips but time and  money availability have precluded it from happening. I cannot make it down for the funeral.

I f you would please pass on the following few words for me.

Parsnips was my mate, He was the epitome of a man from a different age.
He was wild and intense, dark of mood  and definite of opinion.

He was poetry in motion astride a good jumping mare, many a time I have seen him clear a seven wire fence with a good foot of daylight to spare.
His understanding of equine mentality approached that of witchcraft. He was capable of anticipating the  lashing hoof before the horse had formulated the thought, much less put it into action. He had NO patience with intemperate horseflesh. Many a frisky animal had second thoughts of misbehaviour after they had worn the thick end of a coarse rasp at close quarters.
Parsnip’s work was artistry, he was truly... one of the GREAT farriers.

The end of the working day would see Parsnips drown his sorrows in the demon ***.
This was the emergence of the dark soul who cast about for answers to impossible questions, who wallowed in the unhappiness of his failed horizons and the bitterness of his life’s disappointments. My mate Parsnips was not the easiest man to know in his dark moments. But a mate is a mate... you take the good with the bad.

And there were a lot of really good times... when a happy Parsnips had laughter in his eyes and a flash of excitement in his demeanour. I recall one such time when, on a wild rafting trip on a rampaging, flooded Mohaka river, The raft was marooned on a jammed stump in the midst of violent huge killer white water. Parsnips hung off a rope and with a look of wild joy on his face announced to his flabbergasted mates...”And I can’t even ****** swim a stroke!... fantastic. Needless to say he survived the trip and loved every moment of it.

I called to spend the afternoon with him a short time ago at the Rest Home. This was a shadow of the Parsnips I had once known. He was completely disillusioned with the hand fate had dealt him. He saw no future to speak of... He wanted out.
So I must say that I am not entirely surprised with the way things have materialised.
Parsnips usually arranged the system to get things the way he wanted them.

I grieve for the loss of my wild, intense mate, God knows there are few enough of them left.
Real people who live life in the black and white way.
Definite personalities who, for the good or for the bad, never ever leave you in any doubt as to where they stand in the way of things.


Fare well my old friend, I leave you with these words.

The Winds of Life
by Marshal Gebbie

The wind careers across the years
Gathering leaves and dust,
Sweeping lives before it
In cartwheels of redness and rust.
Epiphanous moments of magnitude
Through special occasions employ
The will o the wisp of everyday stuff
From sadness to anger to joy.

The billowing tumble of living
Through vaulting halls of trees
In the dappled light of sunshine
And green corridors of breeze.
The exquisiteness of living
When senses soar in the air
When the colours of being are rampant
And we savour each moment with care.

For the living time goes quickly
It flares and fades with speed,
‘Tis best enjoyed boisterously
With passion, love and need;
‘Tis best when tasted piquantly
Like a claret on the tongue
When you cloak the days with good things
And you hope your dreams die young.

Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
29th January 2009
Alan Maguire May 2018
My cat parsnips has one eye I don’t know why
Mommy says cos he probly  got into a fight with a dog
Daddies friends hate parsnips one time they came to our house with their dog.His name is gobells. gobells wanted to eat parsnips but parsnips is clever and ran up a tree and didn’t come down for a week . one time parsnips had no food so I gave him some left over pizza .I like left over pizza. parsnips loves left over pizza. me and him are best friends
No sprouted wheat and soya shoots
And Brussels in a cake,
Carrot straw and spinach raw,
(Today, I need a steak).

Not thick brown rice and rice pilaw
Or mushrooms creamed on toast,
Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed,
(I'm dreaming of a roast).

Health-food folks around the world
Are thinned by anxious zeal,
They look for help in seafood kelp
(I count on breaded veal).

No smoking signs, raw mustard greens,
Zucchini by the ton,
Uncooked kale and bodies frail
Are sure to make me run

to

***** of pork and chicken thighs
And standing rib, so prime,
Pork chops brown and fresh ground round
(I crave them all the time).

Irish stews and boiled corned beef
and hot dogs by the scores,
or any place that saves a space
For smoking carnivores.
Alan Maguire May 2018
Last week my cat parsnips died. he got run over by a garbage truck. people say that cats have nine lives but parsnips musta had only had one.maybe if he was all black he woulda survived. I cried and I cried but mom and dad told me to shut my trap .parsnips is gone but one day I will see him again. I wish that I got run over by the garbage truck then I wouldn’t be alone
Purcy Flaherty Oct 2018
We embarked upon a titanic voyage to a new world.
It’s said that behind every great man there's a great woman; But a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.
7 bells rang late that night, as our ship stuck fast; between the devil and the deep blue sea.

Fingers frantic! tapping code, as land lubbers row hard, pulling for freedom.

Sailors quickly battened down the hatches and stowed away the Riff-raff, for they knew fine words would butter no parsnips, Better here than there in 3 class.
Some fiddlers on the deck played “Nearer My God to Thee", As the bubbles rose from beneath the sea, come buckle down boys for the devils to pay, come hell or high water he’ll have his pay.
Mothers row, lubbers row, it's time to leave this god forsaken place.
Ten steel decks split and snap, as they join the *****, and hundreds either shriek or pray; as La dolce vita slowly ebbed away.
Mercifully the cacophony descends ever silent, as fifteen hundred souls become neither fish nor flesh, rotting from the head down.
Save our souls •••- - - •••
Bless all those souls lost at sea!
Bus Poet Stop Apr 2019
spring planting, spring harvesting, spring garlic

One of the great joys of having a job in agriculture
is to think days, weeks, even months ahead,
One of the great joys of having a job in poetry,
like a fireman,  a patient planter of love,
you wait to be called,
then becoming by being,
part of an all consuming burning

come spring, take advantage of the cool, wet weather of spring
to put in multiple crops of peas and lettuce, also a great time
to get your perennial vegetables,
like asparagus and rhubarb, started

the planting cycle is not an either/or,
come harvest thy labored fruits,
nine crops to harvest come March,
kale, pick leaves as needed,
leeks, best left in the ground
and harvested as needed,
parsnips, purple sprouting broccoli,
rhubarb, spring cabbage, spring cauliflower,
and of course, my personal fav,
Spring Garlic

Garlic, like like love, is generally planted in the fall,
before the frost and harvested the following late summer.
But from March to May,
once the ground has truly thawed,
the young lover plants, spring garlic or green garlic,
can be harvested.

it’s a long bus ride to Western Canada
where the garlic spring has come,
ain’t complaining lots of time to write foolishness
and plant a few good bus poems in northern ontario
and even michigan,
the window slides, and the seeds scattered,
but at every bus poet stop,
those that need it,
planted many inches deep


April 2 naught how I wish I was nineteen again
Carly Salzberg Mar 2011
Keep your feet on the ground even though your friends
flatter you. (Movies have pause, friends don’t.)
Traveling this year will bring your life into greater
perspective. (Actions speak nothing, without the motive.)
People enjoy having you around. (Appreciate this.)
Your emotional currents are flowing powerfully now.
(Movies have pause, friends don’t.) Listen to yourself more often -
you are thinking about doing something.
Impossible standards just make life difficult. (Actions speak nothing,
without the motive.) Don’t do it, it won’t help anything.
May you have great luck. You are admired for your
adventurous ways. (Everything has beauty but not everyone sees it.)
Right now there is energy pushing you in a new direction. (Hard words
break no bones, fine words butter no parsnips.)
People in your background will be more co-operative than normal. You
are the master of every situation. Listen to yourself more often.
(When the moment comes, take the top one.)Your emotional currents are flowing powerfully now. (Everything has beauty but not everyone sees it.) Encourage your peers. (For hate is never conquered by hate.)
You will be successful in your work. (Appreciate this.) Use your head,
live in your heart. (Hate is conquered by love.)
Don’t do anything, it won’t help you. When the moment comes take the top one. Soon life will become more interesting.
Fah Jul 2013
Dearest Victoria ,

you enquired so, we have:

Listing the problems from her front teeth to the back molars, Winston sat with her back to the mirror

She had bad eyesight so couldn’t really see the contours of her face but was comforted by the fact that there was another person in the room ,

Down stairs Q was making cakes ,

the outfit she wore had enough diamonds to drown a drag queen , some ended up in the cake , along with the usual ingredients : ***** , fluff from under the stairs , a pinch of cremation dust from her Pa’s last fake funeral , the end of a shoelace that had begun to fray and very good quality butter Hard to find in these parts, Most the butter was mixed in with genetically modified jaguar pelt,

modified to grow their pelt as butter, the farmers would attach buckets to their bodies and collect as they malted

This was the latest trend, Q despised it , she made cakes for the café up the road , a dingy old shack with only four stools and one type of coffee, sludge

Out in the garden Sarah Whitely grew her carrots, alongside her parsnips and next to that stood an oak tree who rained down her wisdom onto the veg ,

this made sure that everyone in the house was stocked up with their daily doses of Wisdom ,

Otherwise they were sure to get sick without it ,

I believe in your world , you’d call it something a bit like vitamins ,

Only as one ate the carrots their eyesight into other universes would develop

And the parsnips helped them with their imagination,

I like eating mine with thai tea caramel sauce, shipped in from the faraway land of JAUL , there I hear they don’t need to eat anything but pastries and pizza to keep up their health , they live in amongst wise trees with wise people and wise mountains , thus their capacity for wise is already overflowing, they keep it in jars under the stairs and gift their visitors with at least 3 jars before they depart ,

From across the valley I can see the Snarls house, they are friendly enough and pretty decent fellows but quite honestly they must learn to be a little more understanding and a little less demanding ,

they keep on borrowing all of our rolling pins and never give any back , and the ones they do give back are the ones I don’t really mind them having , it’s that silver one with the flecks of gold dust I really want to use, the gold flakes onto the pastry , that

my dear friend, is the secret to a good quiche, gold dust

The market is 19 kl away , john the Baptist is often the first up , so he goes out there on the solar bike ,

his name isn’t really john the Baptist but ever since he had that motorbike accident he , firstly , switched to solar bikes , and secondly decided that he wouldn’t live any more of his precious life being called Barry McWetsulf ,

anyway, so John does all the shopping but seems to almost always forget the washing powder that doesn’t foam , ergh , the foaming ones contain maggot eggs that burrow into your clothes and before you know it , the foam is all maggots and you’ve got to buy a new cloak ,

that’s a pain you know ,

they aren’t easy to come by anymore Since the hobbits passed through and bought all of he stockpiles up ,

no one thought to make any more

We heard they were dead

(sigh)

supply and demand eh?

Who am i? Ah I forgot, I am the local fortune teller ( that’s what is written on my business card ) but I really I trained in mechanics and have a knack for fixing jumbo jets , sadly the last one I fixed did crash into the Indian Ocean ,

killing all passengers but the dog survived, turns out I had left the last piece of the engine at home, I thought we just didn’t need it anymore

but ya live and ya learn old chap!

So dear, you didn’t put a return address on your letter asking who I was and where I live , so I wrote you one anyway , we do have signal boosters here , maybe I’ll catch you on the airwaves?

Your Friend , Trustee , Peaceful Neighbour , World dweller , Life consumer , time creator , music maker , nebula fornicator

HaHa
Jon London Jul 2012
Woodcutter
Woodcutter

Where do you go?

Must you leave Hansel and Gretel alone?
"There's not enough food for our family home;
So into the forest both children must go
My wife is a nag she nags me til dawn;
To abandon them both miles from their home"

But
Woodcutter
Woodcutter

Where will they go?

"Into the woods, there's a place that I know"
Hansel and Gretel followed in tow;
Dropping white pebbles to find their way home
As they both looked around, their father was gone
Both Hansel and Gretel knew something was wrong.

They waited and waited for their father's return
The woods became cold, so cold it would burn.
Gretel was crying," I'm so hungry" ‘she sighed
"I know" said Hansel, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Can you see pebbles aglow with the moon;
A path to warmth and maybe some food?"
"Don't worry dear Gretel I'll get us home soon".
"But we have to be fearless we're all on our own;
As we walk through the trees that whisper and groan".

Before they knew it both children were home
The house was in darkness, the night stood alone.
In through the window both of them crept
Back into their beds and silently slept.

When the next morning came
Their mother so cross, so full of rage;
Knowing her plans had drastically failed.
She called to their father to meet her upstairs

Woodcutter
Woodcutter

"Why don't you care?"

"Both children are home," she spat with despair.

"I will lock them away for the rest of the day
With a small cup of water and bread which is stale.
Tomorrow you'll take them back to the wood;
And both Hansel and Gretel will be gone for good"

Woodcutter
Woodcutter

Where do you go?

Must you leave Hansel and Gretel alone?
"There's not enough food for our family home
So into the forest both children must go.
My wife is a nag she nags me til dawn;
To abandon them both, miles from their home"

They walked through the bushes and creepy tall trees
Hansel and Gretel held hands with a squeeze.
"Don't worry dear Gretel we'll both be fine;
I left us a trail, like the last one to find"

"I've dropped some crumbs along the way;
So we can find our way home again"
But much to his horror, the crumbs had gone.
His plan had gone so terribly wrong.

"I forgot about the hungry birds;
I'm sorry dear Gretel," were Hansel's words.

"The birds must have quietly followed
Now we'll never get home by tomorrow"
Gretel was crying, "I'm hungry and cold;
Please Hansel, please get us home"

He froze for a moment, haunted by sounds
A shiver he felt there were eyes all around.
Both children felt safer in the foot of a tree
"Hansel I'm scared, please will you hold me"

All through the night they huddled up close
The forest so cold like the touch of a ghost
They waited and waited for their father's return
But when morning came, there was little concern.

So both Hansel and Gretel set off on their way
To find the path to home again
As they walked through the forest they found a old cottage;
It looked very strange in the middle of the glade.

Dark brown it was and ***** looking
But it had a sweet smell;
Like biscuits were cooking

"It's chocolate"
"It's chocolate"
Breaking chunks from the wall,
"Taste some dear Gretel it's not bad at all"

"Well, well, well"
Come a voice from by the door;
"You children must be hungry,
Do you want anymore?"

"Don't be afraid, you have nothing to fear;
It's just little old me, there's no one else here"
Still hungry and cold, Hansel and Gretel
Went and stood by the stove.

"Look at you children you're all skin and bone;
Come a little closer, my eyes are old;
Tell me child, what is your name?"
As she locked poor Hansel away in a cage.

"I'll fatten you up then gobble you up
And your sister can stay here and clean"
"Please let us go, don't be so mean;
We were looking for warmth and something to eat"

"Look at you child, you're all skin and bone
But I can't wait forever or I'll be like bone"
"Girl, girl, go and turn on the cooker;
We're having roast boy and gravy for dinner"

"We'll add some salt and little red spice;
And we'll cook him slow, he'll taste so nice"
"Girl, girl, go and check on the heat;
And make sure there's room for parsnips beneath"

Gretel returned with a tear in her eye
"I think I've turned the heat too high"
"You're useless child" 'the old witch cried.
"I'll do it all by myself"

But as she bent down, Gretel looked around;
And nudged the witch onto the shelf

Gretel ran to save her brother, releasing him from the cage.
She held Hansel so tightly,  "I'll never eat chocolate again"
They chained and locked the oven door,
The wicked witch will be no more.

Grabbing some food for their journey ahead
A basket of coins and a big chocolate egg
"We're rich, we're rich" 'they both happily said;
"Now let's go home to our warm comfy beds"

Along the path both children walked.
Their father was weeping;
As they approached the door
"Your stepmother's dead, she controls me no more"

"Forgive me children for abandoning you;
For your father was weak, what could I do?"
"Hansel and Gretel, I love you;
You believe me children, don't you?"






Copyscape Protected
Hansel&Gretel;©Jon.London 2010/all rights reserved .
Third Eye Candy Jul 2014
a late harvest in Brigadoon
plucked from good earth
by strong hands
hauling
uphill, until
a gentle
*****
rewards
a stiff
back; easing
a grateful
burden
that levitates
famine

[ bushels ]

now
ziggarats
in a root
cellar

a Sumerian skyline
of parsnips and rhubarb
with fennel minarets

where Gilgamesh slept
in a pantry of pagan loot
underneath a corner room
at the very back
of a round
house.

where four seasons bunk with an almanac

mason jars of pickled beets
breathing their own blood
hanging gardens from the ceiling
of the Underworld
like fliers of missing children
on telephone poles

i go outside and wander off

you stay home
A Friendly Re-Post of an early work. Forgive.
memineI Feb 2015
I am a gingerbread
   sweet tangy ******* head
addicted to making
   marmalade sunsets
playing funeral organs
    cooking grass
on my BBQ
     I stir with
olde english
     marinade with you
on a bed of roses
     on our hill
growing wild sassy
          cooking stews
of parsnips wild onions
     marmalade you and
the morning dew.
i cooked a christmas dinner a proper christmas roast
i cooked it by myself i was the christmas host
i bought a great big turkey and a box of foil
to wrap the turkey in so it wouldnt spoil
i plucked it and i stuffed then placed in to cook
doing as it said in my little book
then i peeled the spuds and cut up all the veg
then i got the parsnips and cut them in a wedge
everything was ready it gave me such a thrill
never knew i had so much cooking skill
Eleete j Muir Jul 2012
There are none so blind as those who will not see
A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country,
Let the cobbler stick to his last; the nearer the church
The further from God; speak the truth and shame the devil
Every bullet has a billet, curses like chickens come home to roost
Comparisons are odious we are light years of discretion away
A little tin god enough to make angels weep
Sitting on thorns telling **** and bull stories,
I'll sieze the nettle and foul my own nest
Straight from the shoulder the sinews of war
To smite hip and thigh cut to the bone playing
Merry with lotus-eaters an elephant never forgets
Pull devil, pull baker man proposes but God disposes
Theres nothing new under the sun
Pitchers have big ears and pride goes before the fall
Even a worm will turn as fine words
Butter no parsnips, still waters run deep
Physician, Heal thyself.


ELEETE J MUIR
The Ripper Apr 2017
My tongue is leathered
vvith glory
an oral  j  u m  p   r o p e
            in the darkness!

Joy!!!
might you trip
&& break a femur
to make a meal of yourself?

Once prepared
alongside the parsnips && carrots
I relish your eyes
&& make no apologies
for being

Don't be sad
to be svvallowed
Some
are not as lucky
i cooked a christmas dinner a proper christmas roast
i cooked it by myself i was the christmas host
i bought a great big turkey and a box of foil
to wrap the turkey in so it wouldnt spoil
i plucked it and i stuffed then placed in to cook
doing as it said in my little book
then i peeled the spuds and cut up all the veg
then i got the parsnips and cut them in a wedge
everything was ready it gave me such a thrill
never new i had so much cooking skill.
wordvango Sep 2015
I am a gingerbread
   sweet tangy ******* head
addicted to making
   marmalade sunsets
playing funeral organs
    cooking grass
on my BBQ
     I stir with
olde english
     marinade with you
on a bed of roses
     on our hill
growing wild sassy
          cooking stews
of parsnips wild onions
     marmalade you and
the morning dew.
cheryl love Mar 2016
A Joy to Behold

Holding a new born baby
Close in your warm strong arms
Baby food dripping down your shoulder
And the constant ringing of sleep alarms.
A joy to behold.
Walking the dog in the dead of night
It alerted you at two in the morning.
Waiting at bedroom door with lead
No fuss just a wet sloppy warning.
A joy to behold.
You just sit down with an evening meal
After a hard day’s work – the ‘phone rings
A sales talk on something you do not want
Slam the receiver down, and then say nice things.
A joy to behold.
Stuck in traffic when you are in a rush
All you want to do is get there and back.
You know something is going to happen
The chap behind you didn’t see you – whack!!!
A joy to behold.
You fetch your loved one from the supermarket
With a thousand bags for you to carry.
She has spent all your wages in a flash
And you wonder about the girl you did marry.
A joy to behold.
Watching your garden turn to weeds
After a heavy fall of the never ending rain.
Pulling them out with roots the size of parsnips
Your back aching, pulled a muscle once again.
A joy to behold. True a joy to behold.
Oliver Philip Jan 2019
An ABCDERIAN of soups
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As an application for the post of ~
       Castle Sou Chef and would be Laureate
Below stairs a Sou Chef most extra ordinary
       Is required. ( Only stupid need apply)
Candidates must be most experienced and
      Inspiring without pride ,prejudice or ego.
Dedicated to the daily soup production and
      Miles and miles of uplifting prose for all
Each and every day, three sessions per day
      Without interruption or failure to amuse
For with failure comes “Death by be heading “
      No second chances , there’s no way out.
Granted this post has never been filled ,
     No applications have ever been received.
Hundreds of sad Sou i cidal people have tried
      To apply but their poetry was *******.
I think they were happy with the risk of failure
       It must have played a part I guess.
Joking with the chief jailer ,had this Poet with.
      His finger to write with ink in the dust
Kings loved this kind of justice, killing two birds
      Poets and Sou chefs with a single stone.
Like as if any poet could be a Sou chef
      With his head always in the clouds ?
Might I then hand this condemned Poet a life-
        Line with an aid of ABCDERIAN of soups .
Now to enable him to list by heart a few soups
        And produce a winning Anthology ~
Olives, Omelette, Onions , Oranges all make
       Special soups and very special soups too.
Pakchoi,Panchetta, Parsley,Parsnips,Pasta,
       Peas , Peppers and pretty purple prose.
Quick soups, slow soups,Pork and potatoes
       Poultry,Prawns in barley , even prunes.
Radicchio, Rice,Rosemary, roasted lamb shank
       Indeed a hundred and one different broths
Soups of the Mediterranean,Seafood ,Salsa,
         Samosas or simply left over sausages.
Thai chicken noodle,stir fry bean sprouts,
       Thyme, tofu or even mention Tuscan bean
Using recipes from around the World over a
       Thousand days ,should allay the AXE.
Vegetables both hot or cold ,sour or sweet
  Can be produced from,Knowledge of vinegar
Wild mushrooms grow in every corner of the
     Castle inside the walls and without
Xanadu can thence become the paradise a
       Poet seeks as long as he can stand damp
Yes poet if you can’t stand the damp try to get
    Into an  unbearable heat of the Kitchen.
Zucchini (or courgettes as you know them)
     May bring this poem to a close. Now Apply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written by Philip
December 14th 2018.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


P
An ABCDERIAN of soups from a desperate man.
trf Feb 2018
Imperial ales coerced our high gravity choices one day.
Bleeding, drenched and on full alert,  
I limped from the Tuck's bank to the brewery.

With one pole wet, my whistle was next;
I needed hoppy nourishment, salty pretzels and a stool.

Lacking fish or gear, I imagined it would be difficult
to explain my appearance, but I didn't give a ****; I come as is.

To my 3 o'clock a smoke ring silhouette vacuumed my
exhale like spooling cotton candy from 3 feet away;
I took a breath and inhaled her dandelion seeds.

A tattoo of a paper airplane on her wrist was faded from afar,
yet as she flew closer the ink appeared fresh, 2-3 weeks old.
Her hair smelled of patchouli, parsnips, an Asheville scent.

Closer now, I recognized a look of love or disgust in her eyes.
Can't tell em' apart anymore, as the prior wears a disguise,
eventually becoming the latter.

She asks my name and I ask the barkeep for two double IPA's.

We don't need a racetrack to run in circles anymore.
Seek out the dangerous path, the easy one's have cattle trails.
wash the cabbage
peel the parsnips
down to church
for morning worship

Esmerelda at the *****
on the triangle (Bermuda)
Captain Morgan,

Mathew, Mark, Luke and when
we've read the verses one to ten
the vicar drones on once again

I'm going down the pub.
cheryl love Jun 2015
Holding a new born baby
Close in your warm strong arms
Baby food dripping down your shoulder
And the constant ringing of sleep alarms.
A joy to behold.
Walking the dog in the dead of night
It alerted you at two in the morning.
Waiting at bedroom door with lead
No fuss just a wet sloppy warning.
A joy to behold.
You just sit down with an evening meal
After a hard day’s work – the ‘phone rings
A sales talk on something you do not want
Slam the receiver down, and then say nice things.
A joy to behold.
Stuck in traffic when you are in a rush
All you want to do is get there and back.
You know something is going to happen
The chap behind you didn’t see you – whack!!!
A joy to behold.
You fetch your loved one from the supermarket
With a thousand bags for you to carry.
She has spent all your wages in a flash
And you wonder about the girl you did marry.
A joy to behold.
Watching your garden turn to weeds
After a heavy fall of the never ending rain.
Pulling them out with roots the size of parsnips
Your back aching, pulled a muscle once again.
A joy to behold. True a joy to behold.
cheryl love Apr 2014
Holding a new born baby
Close in your warm strong arms
Baby food dripping down your shoulder
And the constant ringing of sleep alarms.
A joy to behold.
Walking the dog in the dead of night
It alerted you at two in the morning.
Waiting at bedroom door with lead
No fuss just a wet sloppy warning.
A joy to behold.
You just sit down with an evening meal
After a hard day’s work – the ‘phone rings
A sales talk on something you do not want
Slam the receiver down, and then say nice things.
A joy to behold.
Stuck in traffic when you are in a rush
All you want to do is get there and back.
You know something is going to happen
The chap behind you didn’t see you – whack!!!
A joy to behold.
You fetch your loved one from the supermarket
With a thousand bags for you to carry.
She has spent all your wages in a flash
And you wonder about the girl you did marry.
A joy to behold.
Watching your garden turn to weeds
After a heavy fall of the never ending rain.
Pulling them out with roots the size of parsnips
Your back aching, pulled a muscle once again.
A joy to behold. True a joy to behold.
Our twin eyes peered blankly into a plug store that was Joan Rivers
of 81 spinal years on blown vinyl chairs & oak-knotted bone slivers
that scratch the front of her **** like cameras beaten by drone livers
with relish, reliant on the fairest blessings of toe-errant crone givers
crushed by avalanche & made salt-mine deaf by rod & cone shivers
Joan moisturized new plastical scar slits with needled sewn quivers
just like big boys do; like the toady of Mr. Burns, Waylon Smithers
durin' break, shakily swooning to a crooning of a Marvin Gaye tune
after Marvin junior was shot by Marvin senior who was a luny loon
Bein' married to you is better than pluggin' drains too big to expand
the number of turbo jet flights to affable Disappointment City Land
near a region-4 F.E.M.A. death camp where all parsnips are canned
'cause prisoners demandin' fresh parsnips are going to get beheaded
Arke Aug 2018
bleed from finger tips
pressed into plastic keys
repeat routine regularly
until wrunged and wrinkled
some of us are just built wrong
you hear yourself say out loud
dream of escape to Aokigahara
where the trees whisper your name
and even darkness is palpable
you can taste it on your lips
the hemlock firs surrounding
dirt and parsnips on your tongue
your skin itches and you are
wildly uncomfortable in the vessel
sleep now, the forest demands
Candy Flip Dec 2019
I've seen sand flooding through city streets like a torrent of hot gravy drowning sprouts and beetroots, park benches and church rooves.

Or maybe more like the final sprinkle of salt over a roast dinner, baptising the parsnips and chicken breast in some sick meal time ritual.

It bursts through stained glass windows, suffocating the streets and preserving the locals. It rains down.

They used to mix it into a paste and mould it into city scapes - arches topped with fancy statues in humble salute through holes in the clouds.

Nowadays they melt it down and make office blocks out of the stuff, 500 metres in the air propped up like a million glossy middle fingers.

We collect samples of it from the moon, then analyse it and draw loads of numbers and pie charts.

We bake it into computer chips and pluck digits from the stars in the sky. We can predict eclipses and the dances of the planets with only slightly more accuracy than Ptolemy.

The power and strength of the sand is unstoppable. It'll come again when you least expect, and drag us with it into our own graves.
******* sand
Oliver Philip Dec 2018
An ABCDERIAN of soups
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As an application for the post of ~
       Castle Sou Chef and would be Laureate
Below stairs a Sou Chef most extra ordinary
       Is required. ( Only stupid need apply)
Candidates must be most experienced and
      Inspiring without pride ,prejudice or ego.
Dedicated to the daily soup production and
      Miles and miles of uplifting prose for all
Each and every day, three sessions per day
      Without interruption or failure to amuse
For with failure comes “Death by be heading “
      No second chances , there’s no way out.
Granted this post has never been filled ,
     No applications have ever been received.
Hundreds of sad Sou i cidal people have tried
      To apply but their poetry was *******.
I think they were happy with the risk of failure
       It must have played a part I guess.
Joking with the chief jailer ,had this Poet with.
      His finger to write with ink in the dust
Kings loved this kind of justice, killing two birds
      Poets and Sou chefs with a single stone.
Like as if any poet could be a Sou chef
      With his head always in the clouds ?
Might I then hand this condemned Poet a life-
        Line with an aid of ABCDERIAN of soups .
Now to enable him to list by heart a few soups
        And produce a winning Anthology ~
Olives, Omelette, Onions , Oranges all make
       Special soups and very special soups too.
Pakchoi,Panchetta, Parsley,Parsnips,Pasta,
       Peas , Peppers and pretty purple prose.
Quick soups, slow soups,Pork and potatoes
       Poultry,Prawns in barley , even prunes.
Radicchio, Rice,Rosemary, roasted lamb shank
       Indeed a hundred and one different broths
Soups of the Mediterranean,Seafood ,Salsa,
         Samosas or simply left over sausages.
Thai chicken noodle,stir fry bean sprouts,
       Thyme, tofu or even mention Tuscan bean
Using recipes from around the World over a
       Thousand days ,should allay the AXE.
Vegetables both hot or cold ,sour or sweet
  Can be produced from,Knowledge of vinegar
Wild mushrooms grow in every corner of the
     Castle inside the walls and without
Xanadu can thence become the paradise a
       Poet seeks as long as he can stand damp
Yes poet if you can’t stand the damp try to get
    Into an  unbearable heat of the Kitchen.
Zucchini (or courgettes as you know them)
     May bring this poem to a close. Now Apply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written by Philip
December 14th 2018.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A true story of man’s struggle to overcome adversity

— The End —