.
Fowl, tragic days,
Hen-house ablaze;
Chickens took flight.
Tofu tonight?
.
.
A comma, a pause,
Defines the thought,
And whether a chicken
Eats me or not.
.
.
And the music stops.
No chair for me,
I walk away,
Resentfully.
.
.
Frank Rable is a poet living in Pennsylvania.
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This is EXCELLENT, Mary Jane. It may be my favorite one yet!
Thanks Margaret. I enjoy how you tie poems together!
I love this poem, Paul, because of how well it describes and explains one of the most uniquely beautiful places…
Joe, I love your interpretation - as far as I'm concerned" a gold-digging young gigolo who attaches himself to a…
Urszula, what an imaginative limerick! That is something Poe might have done! Sorry to be so late seeing this.
Dear Frank, I really enjoyed the brevity and the whimsy; a nice way to start the day.
Thanks Paulette!
Concise and funny. I like your sense of humor.
Thanks R.E.! I thought about a graduation speech and did the opposite.
“Tofu tonight?” – Hilarious 🙂
Served sans plats and drizzled with chicken gravy over the sink. Bachelor convenient! I appreciate your comment, Jeremiah. Thanks!
Words matter, perhaps even more so as with the brevity of these poems, which are finely-honed.
Thank you, Cheryl. That’s very kind of you.
The best tofu I ever ate was something called mock fried duck, but chicken is better. What would our world be like if hens had pens? Nice quips, but what if eggs had legs?
Ya gave me a laugh! If eggs had legs, Secretary Kennedy would have a fit. and could vegetarians eat them? Mock fried duck? Is that bean curd fried in peanut oil with a little duck grease.Yum! Happy to hear from you C. B.
Three fun pieces, Frank, the first along the lines of ‘Red sky at night’ (perhaps a cue for another competition!). I loved the over-competitive musical chairs.
Thanks Paul. Red sky at night, That’s it! I scribbled that as part of a rhyme in a birthday card, and i guess that stuck with me when i wrote the poem, which was a while ago. The mystery finally revealed! See, my muse is a birthday card.
SECOND GRADE 1962 Musical chairs, the girls had a plan, one by one the boys lost their chair. But not I, because I was certainly STRONGER THAN ANY GIRL! ‘Twas a bitter lesson as I walked away, resentfully
Young girls conspire,
Much to Frank’s ire.
To his despair,
Frank has no chair.
Young girls conspire,
Much to Frank’s ire.
To his despair,
Frank has no chair.
yes I had no chair, dammit! ha ha hah Good one Paul! It was so nice, I read it twice!
Fun stuff, Frank! I love “Man-Eating Chicken”. I’m guessing you may have been trying to find a rhyme for hyphen, as in man-eating? (All I could find was siphon…. 🙂 ) Anyway, what you came up with was good.
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it. What about”mood I found my WIFE IN” for a rhyme with hyphen?
I love it!
Long laughs from short poems. Great stuff!
Thanks Russel! Like a three panel comic strip, yeah?
Though short and light on their surface, these pack deep interpretive possibilities. They offer a much more engaging read than meets the eye.
Thanks for your comment Adam. I appreciate your take on my little poems. I don’t claim that they have deeper meanings, but sensibly, I don’t deny it either. 🙂
Frank, I love these gleaming grins of poetic wonder. Thank you for my Friday smile!
Gleaming grins! What a glorious, gracious, and generous mention of my submissions, gentle lady. I am genuinely grateful! 🙂