Posts Tagged ‘bread’

The ugliest poem I have ever written.

I used to enter a lot of state poetry contests.  These contests would often have a new form of poetry listed, with rules all its own.  I enjoyed trying my hand at them but I did not always like the results.  This poetry form is called: Lil-Anne.


              THE PHONE CALL


She’d like to change the phone call’s sad event,

When the words heard, caused the sunshine to go.

She’d been enjoying the sweet yeasty scent

As she slowly kneaded the ball of dough.


                   Now, in pain, she

                   pummeled the dough

                   stopping only

                   to brush away tears.


The rest was done by routine long ingrained;

Rising dough, greased pans, loaves in the oven.

And it was the best bread she had made, but

She’d like to change the phone call’s sad event.


9/7/92                     Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck



Lil-Anne form … The ugliest poem I ever wrote.

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Remember when POT meant the pan that held stew

And GRASS meant the lawn and a golf course, too?

When HOOKED meant the rug Grandma made with care

And FIX meant arrange,  or even repair?


Remember when BREAD meant that which made toast

And COOL meant weather on Alaska’s coast?

When SWINGERS were tots on swings in the park

And TURNED ON was done to lamps after dark?


Remember when TOUGH meant meat hard to chew

And CHICKEN was fowl that we’d barbecue?

When RAP was a knock you’d hear at the door

And WAY-OUT meant country or distant shore?


Remember when BAD meant awful, not great

And TURKEY was a fowl that we cooked and ate?

When THE PILL was something you’d take when ill

If suffering with headache and maybe a chill?


Remember when PAD was a cushion you’d use,

Instead of the place you would go for a snooze?

Remember when JUNKIE was something not neat

And FUZZ meant lint, not cops on the beat?


Oh, bring back the days when words waxed true

And fractured English appealed to few.

When slang wasn’t used except on a dare,

And my speech was flawless, ’cause I was A SQUARE.



3/12/92            Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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