It Matters Not to the Red Wheelbarrow
The red wheelbarrow doesn’t care
that it is rusty from rain
The chickens, however,
hate the taste
of the rust
So much
depends
on their eggs
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man's Pride For Safety
while it maybe true
that the red wheelbarrow
does not allow the rain
to drench it in inferiority
but it is the master farmer
that finally decides
whether it should rust
under the rain or not
on the other hand the
wheelbarrow knows that the
master farmer loves
whatever redness it has
even the accumulating rust
the white chickens though
preoccupied with the grains
knew all these glazes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eggxample
What came first chickens or eggs?
Chickens of course!
Chickens have legs!
Chickens have feathers,
Eggs have a shell,
How would you like your eggs, done well?
This may be a 'yolk',
But consider it folk!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Miss Reid's Speed Seeds Misread Red Weed Barrow Greed Screed
Miss Reid's Speed Seeds Misread Red Weed Barrow Greed Screed
So much depends upon callow Monsanto’s
arrow minded rein reign
glazed with gain and, again, phrased with pain,
wheedling sallow farmers who see red
forced to furrow b[l]ushels of transgenic sterile crop seeds
on narrow plain
lots which soon lie fallow
rather than wide marrow
raised with rain
and fertile appetizers
Need greed's speed weed reeds
beside white ants’
terror might nest?
Fazed again, who chickens out of errors?
12 October 2009 robi3_1928_will5_0006 PVW_JNX
Parody William Carlos Williams 1883_1963 The Red Wheelbarrow
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red
wheelbarrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
William Carlos WILLIAMS 1883_1963
WILLIAMS William Carlos 1883_1963 will5_0001_will5_0000 PXX_NXX The Red Wheelbarrow_So Much Depends
__________________
The Yellow Goldfish
so much depends
upon
a yellow gold
fish
washed down with bowl
water
inside the white
kitten
William Carlos Williams’s Cat
Henry BEARD 1945_20xx bear1_0009_will5_0001 PXX_NXX
Parody William Carlos Williams 1883_1963 The Red Wheelbarrow
______________________
The T.V. Guide
So much more depends
upon
a universal remote
control
sitting on a coffee
table
beside the TV
Guide
Chris CLOKE 19xx_20xx clok1_0001_will5_0001 PVW_JXX
Parody William Carlos Williams 1883_1963 The Red Wheelbarrow
_____________________
An Apology
Forgive me
for backing over
and smashing
your red wheelbarrow.
It was raining
and the rear wiper
does not work on
my new plum-colored SUV.
I am also sorry
about the white
chickens.
Frances Jean BERGMANN 19xx_20xx berg1_0001_will5_0001 PWX_DJX
Parody William Carlos Williams 1883_1963 The Red Wheelbarrow
______________________
The Red Cadillac
Willie 'Slick' Williams reads William Carlos Williams, then writes a letter to the producers of the TV makeover show 'Pimp My Ride', explaining why his car should be featured on the program.'
so much depends
upon
a red cadillac
slick
with turtle
wax
beside the white
chicks
Reginald O'Hare GIBSON 19xx_20xx gibs2_0001_will5_0001 PXX_MXX
Parody William Carlos Williams 1883_1963 The Red Wheelbarrow
___________________
Grey Computer
so much depends
upon
the grey
computer
with its internet
resources
on the desk
beside my homework.
2008 Filippa ENNERFELT 19xx_20xx enne1_0001_will5_0001 PVW_MXX
__________________
Homeland Security Advisory System
nothing depends
upon
a red seal
blaring
phrases of high
terror
on the blue
website
September 2006 Jay SCOTT 1960_20xx scot4_0001_will5_0001 PVX_JXX
Parody William Carlos Williams 1883_1963 The Red Wheelbarrow
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Wheelbarrow
a wheelbarrow
is a mere wheelbarrow
even if it is not
red or glazed
with rain water
it is
what it is
just a wheelbarrow
but look beneath
ourselves in the forest of our wanderings
there are trees there
growing in the dampness of darkness
looking for light
a river comes flooding
that is where
meaning sprouts
upsurging emotions
now without walls coming before your fences
a wheelbarrow
is not the same wheelbarrow anymore
emotions
your emotions made it
for not what it is
transmutation
from William to you and this world
looks not familiar
anymore
petals of meanings
red so real
thorns and stalks and dews
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens
Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.
They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.
poem by Jack Prelutsky
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Rusty Angels
They say you came from heaven but I know thats not the truth,
Cause I dont think an angel could look anything like you,
Your eyes are made from sapphires and your heart is made from stone,
You gotta be the closest thing to hate Ive ever known,
And if I didnt know better Id say you had come alone to the party.
Oh yeah.
The light is always shining, but you swear that its gone black,
The tide is always turning, but youre never looking back,
If I didnt know better Id say times were pretty bad,
Because rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, yeah,
Rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, gonna die.
The gifts you bring are fire, and your dreams they turned to dust,
Your flying days are over, and your wings have turned to rust.
If I didnt know better, Id say all you had is lost,
Because rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, yeah,
Rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, gonna die.
If you swallow just a little pride, you might find a little love inside,
Open up and let somebody in, cause if you need somebody,
You know its not a sin.
Rusty angels they cant fly, rusty angels gonna die, yeah,
Rusty angels they cant fly, no, rusty angels gonna die,
Gonna die, yeah, you cant fly, oh no,
Gonna die, oh yeah, you cant fly, oh no.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epitaph on an Unread Verse after William Carlos Williams' Red Wheelbarrow
This is just to play on plum phrases
hibernating in your brainbox,
which your neurones were probably waiting for
to break free fast.
Forgive me their taste is delicious,
so neat and so bold.
An agèd poet with hollow laughter
swiftly sprayed her incisive syllables
in consonant activity and, yearning,
paid [s]lip service:
so much depends
upon lifelong learning's expectations,
an unread verse [s]pokes for comments,
reigns above lily-livered chicken-hearted critics
before a blank screen.
so much more depends
upon monochromatic ash clouds
glazed with silicates
beside Icelandic
eruptions.
Life is verse role-reversing uninclined ignorance
shadowing dis...inclined ink lined page.
(Revised 3 October 2009 and19 Aptil 2010)
This is Just to Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
William Carlos Williams 1883_1963
Variation on a Theme by William Carlos Williams
1 I chopped down the house that you had been saving to live in next summer. I am sorry, but it was morning, and I had nothing to do and its wooden beams were so inviting.
2 We laughed at the hollyhocks together and then I sprayed them with lye. Forgive me. I simply do not know what I am doing.
3 I gave away the money that you had been saving to live on for the next ten years. The man who asked for it was shabby and the firm March wind on the porch was so juicy and cold.
4 Last evening we went dancing and I broke your leg. Forgive me. I was clumsy and I wanted you here in the wards, where I am the doctor!
Kenneth Koch 1925_20
Epitaph on an Unre[a]d Verse after William Carlos Williams
An aged poet with hollow laughter swiftly sprayed her incisive syllables in consonant activity and, yearning, paid [s]lip service:
so much depends
upon lifelong learning's expectations,
an unread verse [s]pokes for comments,
reigns above white chicken-hearted critics
on a blank screen.
Life is verse role-reversing uninclined ignorance
shadowing an inclined ink lined page.
(Parody William Carlos Williams Epitaph AND The Red Wheelbarrow written 14 September 2008)
Epitaph
An old willow with hollow branches
slowly swayed his few high bright tendrils
and sang:
Love is a young green willow
shimmering at the bare wood's edge.
William Carlos Williams 1883_1963
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red
wheelbarrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
William Carlos Williams 1883_1963
The Yellow Goldfish
so much depends
upon
a yellow gold
fish
washed down with bowl
water
inside the white
kitten
William Carlos Williams' Cat Henry BEARD Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
The T.V. Guide
So much more depends
upon
a universal remote
control
sitting on a coffee
table
beside the TV
Guide
Chris CLOKE - Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
An Apology
Forgive me
for backing over
and smashing
your red wheelbarrow.
It was raining
and the rear wiper
does not work on
my new plum-colored SUV.
I am also sorry
about the white
chickens.
Frances Jean BERGMANN
Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
The Red Cadillac
Willie 'Slick' Williams reads William Carlos Williams, then writes a letter to the producers of the TV makeover show 'Pimp My Ride', explaining why his car should be featured on the program.'
so much depends
upon
a red cadillac
slick
with turtle
wax
beside the white
chicks
Reginald O'Hare GIBSON 19_20
Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
Stuffing WCW
so much depends
upon
sodium erythorbate
and sugar
mixed with salt
water
inside the processed
chickens.
Parody Unknown Author William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Orange Bicycle
an orange bicycle
is parked on
the side of
an abandoned
house
it has flat tires
and its
spokes
are eaten
by rust
obviously
nothing depends
much on it
beside it
there are no
white chickens
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eggs may be smarter than the chickens, but it doesn't take long for them to stink.
Aint Nobody Here But Us Chickens
(j. cramer/j. whitney)
One night farmer brown was taken the air
Locked up the barnyard with the greatest of care
Down in the henhouse somethin stirred
When he shouted,whos there? , this is what he heard
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So calm yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble with your chin
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
Youre stompin around, shakin the ground, kickin up an aweful dust
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble, its a sin
(bridge)
Tomorrow is a busy day, weve got things to do, weve got eggs to lay
We got ground to dig and worms to scratch
Takes a lot of sittin gettin chicks to hatch
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So quiet yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Kindly point that gun the other way
And hobble, hobble, hobble off and hit the hay
(repeat bridge)
Its easy pickin, aint nobody here but us chickens
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A World Filled With Hate
This world is filled with hate
Hate against life
Hate against your friends
Hate against your pet
Hate against the rain
Hate against a busdriver
Hate against your teacher
Hate against your parents
Hate against your brothers and sisters
Hate against a difficult game
Hate against your job
Hate against the way you live
Hate against your body
Hate against a withering flower
Hate against a not-working car
Hate against someone hurting you
Hate against a child that doesn't obey
Hate against the cloudy sky
Hate against God
Hate against the death
So much hate in everyone of us
We're filled with it
But only a little dropp of love
In this hate filled world
Could overcome every bit of hate
poem by Angel of Death
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The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Pusher
have patience for a i am the pusher
of your dreams
the wheelbarrow of your ideas
glazed by your tears
beside those
black wild chickens
have courage for soon you shall rise
above my little spring
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's Going On With The Chickens?
What's going on with the chickens?
'No one really knows exactly how all of this started.
Or wish to connect any of this,
To the making of common sense.
They are baffled.
We are baffled.
And since it was reported,
Those chickens were going home to roost...
Well,
The abundance of eggs they once had laid...
Has been limited to quite a few.
And 'now'...
Someone has decided to use them,
In some foolish sexual preference dispute.'
And...
Who is that guy tied up to the chair?
'He was the one who first declared,
A suspicion he had that chickens everywhere...
Were preparing to come home to roost.'
Oh yes...
I remember.
He was the one daring to tell the truth about the chickens.
And he was labelled a racist too.
'What are they calling the people,
Choosing to protect their rights...
Not to cater to those with same sex appetites? '
Conveniently they have called them conservatives.
'Has everyone lost their minds? '
I have no idea.
But grateful I am to be a vegetarian.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Is A Rooster On The Roof
Someone said,
Chickens will come home to roost.
And there is a rooster on the roof,
With binoculars laughing.
'I want some scrambled eggs made,
With toast and marmalade.'
Someone said,
He was too young to fish.
But with them he went fishing,
And came back with all the fish.
'Clean it and fry it up with wild rice.
Cook some collard greens,
And that will be real nice.'
Someone said a failure will be seen.
But they are not the ones,
Eating fish and greens.
And there's a rooster on the roof,
Croaking for chickens to lay their eggs.
And the young fisherman,
Bathes in accolades!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Famine and The Feast
THE FAMINE
Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
None in the manger, and none in the shed,
None in the box where the chickens are fed,
None in the tussocks and none in the tub,
And only a little one out in the scrub.
Oh, I say! Dumplings to-day.
I fear that the hens must be laying away.
THE FEAST
Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
Two in the manger, and four in the shed,
Six in the box where the chickens are fed,
Two in the tussocks and ten in the tub,
And nearly two dozen right out in the scrub.
Hip, hooray! Pudding to-day!
I think that the hens are beginning to lay.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Why are butterflies free?
A butterfly goes thru one of lives greatest metamorphoses.
It starts its life as a caterpillar going thru life eating and waiting for that moment to begging its life’s journey. It cocoons itself until it is ready for its last steps in life.
Spring forth from its cocoon, it frees itself and flies off into the light. It is its begging and ending all at the same time.
It doesn’t care about what the future brings
It doesn’t care about lesser things
It doesn’t care about the rain
It doesn’t care about the pain
It doesn’t care about where it belongs
It doesn’t care about a silly love songs
It doesn’t care about right or wrong
It doesn’t care about the road being to long
It doesn’t care if the sun sets in the east
It doesn’t care about war and piece
It doesn’t care about the world in helter skelter
It doesn’t care about a warm shelter
It has no idea about mass destruction
For that takes too much contemplation
For politics it has no reaction
It needs no constitution
Just being is its satisfaction
It looks to no one for absolution
No homeland for repatriation
It has no skin for condemnation
It has no time for recreation
It has no room for damnation
A butterfly lives its life like there is no tomorrow
For a butterfly there is no tomorrow
A butterfly just wonders the earth sapping up life as it goes by
It owes nothing to anyone
Fly butterfly, fly and be free
Be free to be free
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Irony of Love
I hate it when you say you care
but it doesn't seem at all
I hate it when I lose all air
because I always fall
I hate it when you make me smile
like there is no tomorrow
I hate it when I walk a mile
like the next day will never show
I hate it when you make my day
the way you did before
I hate it when I lose my way
Like there's no open door
and most of all I hate it when I say I hate all this..
but deep inside me all of those, I just truly miss..
poem by Judith Punzalan
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I hate you and me
I hate you for treating me bad
I hate you for using me
I hate you for telling me I am crazy
I hate you to pretend that you care
I hate you for making me cry
I hate you, ‘coz I’m being codependent on you
I hate you for treating me like a robot
I hate you ‘coz you’re so selfish
I hate you for promises that you love me forever
I hate you ‘coz you leave me, just like that
I hate you ‘coz you cheat on me
I hate you for keep me waiting
I hate you ‘coz you get marriage while I’m still hang on
I hate you for leaving me alone
In addition, I hate my self for loving you
I hate my self ‘coz until now I still love you
I hate my self ‘coz until now I care about you
I hate my self ‘coz until now
I still hoping that you come back to me.
poem by Ail Respicio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't hate me for me
Don't hate me for me
Don't hate me for you
Just don't hate me at all take the clue
I may not be perfect
I may not be great
But that doesn't mean you have to hate
I may not be popular
I may not be cool
But that doesn't mean you can use me as a tool
I'm probably fat
And your'e probably thin
But that doesn't mean you'll win in the end
Don't hate me for me
Don't hate me for you
Just don't hate me at all take the clue
poem by Rose Levan
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