"I dream of Candy!"
Sweet cakes and peanut butter squares
A living diabetic's nightmare
My heart sings to the beat under the Newton stars
Sweet sugar cookies and peanut butter bars
Dancing dum dum's,
The sweetest shadow silhouette in my room
Dreamy, Creamy Cupcakes in the afternoon
Cinnamon Cheerios cascade on my spoon
Sweeter than my sweet tooth
Now and later - a forever honeymoon
Jiggling my jelly belly boo berry butt-erfinger delight
I'm in love, licking icee icing all night
Extra freshness once I pop a top off of a mountain dew pop
My eyes sparkle like diamond dazzle razzles in the sky
I live to fabricate my own personal sugar extract R.E.M. Sleep
Savoring the sound of water lingering in my mouth
This night, ovulated buds, await to feast
Enjoying a delicious dulce music sleepy symphony
I'm here to brag and embrace a pinata pillow escapade
Enchanted by a cotton candy crave -calling my name
Lalaloopsy licorice and lemonade, tea
The best wet dream I'll ever see
Marshmallows of solitude dulcify every single fresh fantasy
Imbibing bright slushy skittles daydream freeze
One fat sunny bowl of mix cereals and cane
Crackerjack jail and chocolate chip swirls,
Caramel lumps constipate the brain
Sizing up -peanuts and candy, popcorn party payday
Wild winter fresh, Wrigley's Spearmint Breath parade
Gummy bear Dessert, Fruit Ninja hair
Watermelon Taffy stuck on the top of my gums
Swallowing and indulging the whiteness of a whistle pop bar
Super bubble sweet tarts embedded deep down in my heart
Bubblicious, mint twist, Sunkist the best Twizzler breakfast
Yummy in my twinkie tummy, drooling over frosted pop tarts
One more strawberry smoothie 44 oz cup
Counting each and every Pez popping up
Goodnight my friends,
It's time to get lost under a midnight moon pie sky
SELFLY- Hugging and snuggling to a new sugar rush high
A slippery sloppery slipping snail
Slithered slimed and slid on the floor
Feeling hurried harried hungry and helpless
As starlings screeched spiraled and saw
That slippery sloppery slipping snail
Who slithered slimed and slid on the floor
A fluttering of feathers fell frighteningly fast
Meant that slippery sloppery slipping snail
Who slithered slimed and slid was no more.
You’d think a dog named Lucky,
Would lead a decent life.
But Lucky had his troubles,
And they followed day and night.
One day Lucky ran away
In search of greener pastures.
Just to find a field ablaze,
Thus the start of his disasters.
Although Lucky didn’t die that day
And no limbs or parts were broken,
Lucky smelled of smoldered hair
And you’d swear he kept on smokin!
And Lucky liked to chase the cars,
Till the day he lost his nerve
When Lucky met a big ‘ol bus
That couldn’t stop or swerve.
I’m not sure just how it hit him
Or how he’s here today.
But he’s never walked straight since,
And one eye veers away.
My Lucky always clashed with cats
And was leery of their paws.
Until a “Tom” of forty pounds
Let Lucky feel his jaws.
Hair and fur balls filled the air
Like Cottonwoods a bloomin.
Poor ‘ol Lucky lost an ear,
And now looks twice as stupid.
I confess, I named him wrong
And why he stays, I’ll never know.
I guess that I’m the lucky one,
To have Lucky here at home.
Lounging licking leaping
Prancing pouncing peeking
Corners closets crouching
Tail twirling twitching
Sniffing sensing sneezing
Hissing huffing hunting
Pretty purring preening
Curiosity kitty killing
Nine long lives living
"I can’t find the words I want to say! “
Under the moonbeam and sparkling scattered stardust,
I can feel the dew, which surpasses through the night.
As I speak to you in tongue, this stale flavor becomes overdone.
A taste of what is behind them luscious ludicrous lips.
I finally ask!
“Do you not feel what I feel?
Can you not feel my heart hesitating and holding hectically?
Addressed with attach anticipation on your side!
It is my hesitation, to answer with, “Please?”
The dwelling night disappears, underneath my deepen darken days,
In which makes every day, another night to come.
The wondering and whining worsens a little more.
I ache for seconds more, than my mind begins to mend.
The mornings keep approaching fast, the silences breaks!
Shattered scattered splattered words, finally released.
You start to nurture up around your notable noble nearsighted eyes.
For I have starved, just about all I can take.
Master of this crying slave…
“Your perception burns, the prescription, of persuasive deception.”
Your inacceptable improper intention cannot heal me now!
Leaving an awkward awareness feel, which lingers to the lustiness’, lost inside of me.
With a wallow with a swallow, soaping and spiting the sight of you.
Meanwhile your thoughts focus on the painful pulsating pleasure.
You will unleash on me…
For leaving all the crummy crumbling crumbs under our silver satin sheets.
I will be smacking and snaking surrendering and yielding, yearning at your will.
Please Master Can I have another, Cracker in bed~~ ?
"12 Days of Christmas Craves"
On the twelfth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
12 twinkling tiaras
Eleven emerald elephants
Ten Tiffany trinkets
Nine naughty negligees
Eight echoing elves
Seven sequined stars
Six sexy singers
Five fake fingernails s s s
Four furry foxes
Three tingling tamborines
And peach tree in pail via e-mails s s s.
*For P.D.'S 12 Days of Christmas.
*Written by: Linda-Marie "Sweetheart".
Poem by: Mr. Ronald Watson
Sep. 13, 2012
My Poetry on PoetrySoup
Stinking thinking/ it leads to drinking./
What moisten the soul without an inkling?/
Unto making a wild left turn /while the right signal light were blinking./
Within a mild mix of rice, hops, and barley,
Since/ it is too much laugher at a karaoke party./
How Elvis sounds like,/ a broken Bob Marley?/
Now it’s as if,/ inhibitions are lowed/
Frozen in time/ and slipping far out of control./
As intuitions of minds does loathe,/ as such weariness echoes for tomorrow./
Yet,/ a stinking breath that smells just as death/ and it's where all funky asses dwells./
Though/ all hung over /and unjustified to flinging heavy heads into that porcelain king,/
Even this is a sight for red sore eyed Kings!/
It is an aftermath of ravishing through them royal purple cloth bags./
So/ afraid to admit that shallowness slowly drags!/
When,a sense of clarity which will just admit it.
That stinking thinking is difficult to kick, but
One day at a time, it is the only way to shine, or get fixed.
Thank youMy Poetry on PoetrySoup
Surly Sally slipped and lost a flip flop
at a hearty party in a bungalow with Billy.
while dancing and prancing to hip hop
whirling and twirling and spinning silly.
Can you reverse and remember the flop she flipped?
Well it ludicrously landed in the party punch bowl.
Nobody noticed while they slurped and sipped
and the dancers dipped and ripped and rolled.
They dipped, danced, pranced and laughed,
pirouetted, and sweated,
tipped and turned till totally daft.
Beer and booze abetted.
The next night they stayed sober and soloed somber.
Crashing and complaining Billy’s head hung,
both believed they’d been belted by a bomber.
Surly Sally swore she felt like dung on a rung!
Let this be a lurid logical lesson,
to those who think it’s only fun and frolick to abuse booze,
Or you too could be confessin’
And for lack of the light of this litany you’re liable to lose!
An answer to a challenge for John Freeman’s Alliteration contest
by my poetry friend, Gwendolen Rix.
A pig in peplum and pearls
under a pergola twirls.
Pendulous petunias sway
while percussion plays.
Whispering spring breezes,
a tickle in my nose, i sneezes.
Garrulous girls gather
Glorious and giddy
Giggling and gossiping
Geared up endearingly
Go out in groovy nights
Getting glacial but gay
Girls giving grief to guys
Syllables 42. Counted on www.howmanysyllables.com
April 27, 2014
Dr. Ram Mehta
Labor day holiday is laughingly laborious
Pack a punch of partying
On one only lonely playful day
Tonight the trio sets the timepiece to
alarm again in the am another
Work and school worry with the rules day
Sponsor: John Freeman
telling tendrils twine
a lovers loop of longing
until finally touching
a shimmering swine
swirling and slick
hard to get
a tangible tableau set with
tasty taters and tomaters
touching my tongue with a tang
belligerent battles belittle
brains badly, but burlesque
beauty is a buoyant business
slight, shimmering, serene, silky, subdued, specks, swayed, strayed, staggered, shyly, drowning, desires delicated, pious, purety!
Five funny fairies, Fond of fairy-cakes
Flying far from fairyland, Foraging for food
Five fairies feasted, on flowers full of fat
Freesia, Fuchsia, Fairy-fluff, frosted with fig fudge
Five fat Fairies, full of fairy food
Floating back to fairyland, flying far from fast
Contest : Alliteration Poems Please
A preening promiscuous princess posed as "Penelope Prude."
With her poodle and parasol; well-perfumed, on Pine Street she stood.
A pompous pilfering pimp with a pink-painted poodle passed by.
He paused, popped his eyes, then approached while plotting to pounce and ply
the princess with persimmons and pearls, prepared to profit from her,
but Penelope quipped, “Poppycock! I’m a capitalistic entrepreneur!”
For john freeman's "Alliteration Poems Please Poetry Contest"
FOR FOOLISH FOURTH WIVES
Fordham Belfour, on 4th street, fell afoul of fabulous foreplay
Four minutes before he forgot to catch the 4:44
Fortunately his forgiving fourth wife
Fell for his foolish failure to perform
Six simpering thick-skinned shifty spinster sisters stiffly sit
Stitching sticky skid-marked scivvies of sixty sick stingy sailors.
Six sick from stitching scivvies of sixty sick scrimping sailors
Stickle over nickels; those insistent six thick-skinned spinster tailors!
For "the alliteration, nothing but sweet alliteration (must have alliteration in the title)"Poetry Contest of Nathan D
I felt qualm,
in the quagmire;
in a quandary
yes I quarreled,
as to mine
In a quirk
the quip came:
of thine quixotic
out will come the
Suck on a slice of lemon, and I'd bet ya,
that you can read this one !
The definitions for the "Q" words are on just two pages
in the dictionary ! Have fun dear poets !
When ten thin tinkling tin things twinkle and tingle in the wind
twinkling and tinkling the ten thin tin things make a tingling tintinnabulation of joy
The grandchildren think I’m off my head....
Soft sighing of tall Georgia pines
Simmering stew bubbles on stove
Sounds_scents envelope combine
Sabotaged sage while she so strove
To complete cleaning sandcastle
Built in sand, shuttle there now scantle
In honor of John Freeman's
Alliteration Poems Please
`The 112th congress quibbles, fickle, frizzing, drizzle of dubious dribble, while we wait, …on the sick, fickle, trickle of dribble ,from their quibbles of fizzling sizzle.
For and In Honor of Gwendolen Rix
And contest: Big Kid Tongue Twister Challenge
Eight elephants ate eight eggs on Easter in England with eighty eight elves.
< Banana ~ boat ~ Bob ~ is ~ a ~ slippery..... Boob
Thought ~ that ~ this ~ town ~ lost ~ it's .... groove
No ~ spice ~ no ~ life ~ no .... nothing
Little ~ lost ~ boy ~ now ~ looks ~ for ~ his ~ Lucy's .... ring
When ~ where ~ what ~ or ~ even ...... why
I'll ~ inquire ~ insist ~ innovate ~ or ~ even ..... lie
His ~ history ~ of ~ having ~ such ~ big ....... hamstrings
Maybe ~ even ~ mighty ~ magical ~ musical ~ fruits ~ and .... greens
Or ~ having ~ big ~ over-sized ~ onions ~ olives ~ and ..... Kiwi
screw ~ this ~ he's ~ scum ~ skewered ~ tossed ~ back ~ to ... sea
Poor ~ precious ~ pretty ~ Lucy ~ got ....... pranked
Cause ~ curious ~ Bob ~ couldn't ~ control ~ love ~ so ~ he .... sank
All ~ alone ~ and ~ now ~ very .... angry
Drowing ~ deep ~ in ~ own ~ do-do ~ droppings .... whopie
Luscious ~ Lucy ~ now ~ can ~ look ~ long ~ and ...... hard
For ~ another ~ fast ~ floating ~ free ~ salemens ~ not ~ selling.... lard
Luscious Love Lingers Contest
Freedom fighter Fickle Freddie's
forced to freefall on foe's field.
Freddie flirts with foe's fetching filly.
Fickle fighter falls to "friendly fire."
*Entry for Gwendolen’s Big Kid Tongue Twister”contest
(My friends think I'm crazy, but, yes, they did have some problems with all the "f" words. LOL)
Peter Pumpkin petted pink panthers' paws
Plastering purple push pins on pissed poetess
Producing panic in preheated porridge pot...
***Entry for Gwendolen’s "Big Kid Tongue Twister” contest***
(My friends still display a twisted and frozen smile... LOL!!! so the pie's for me)
Dangling diligently daring Debbie’s duos tries
Testing twin trapezes two ton Tony dies
did dangling Debbie dilgently try?
Comments from audience upon recitation.
….. . .. .. . . .
With petite purple pansies in her long and luscious locks
Carly cleaned , creased , and darned her dirty, smelly socks,
Her clover colored dress twirled around her fancy feet
As apple –printed apron looked goody good enough to eat,
With newly laundered laundry, billowing brightly in the breeze
Oh, stray seeds from Carly’s socks, made her suddenly sneeze.
John Freeman’s Contest: Alliteration Poems, Please
Winsome Wendy walked in winter's white
Wondering when her window box wisteria would grow.
Wintry wisps followed by winter's windstorm
Wiped out her wonderful window work.
Winsome Wendy wanted to whine
"Without the wisteria, could winter be fine"?
While still walking, Wendy happened upon Woeful Will
Who worked without reward.
Winsome Wendy withstood the wisecracks that
Woeful Will had witlessly worded to her.
Wendy's withdrawal, spurned the wishy-washy Will
Which was witnessed by Watchful Ward.
Winsome Wendy went to the windbreak
Which Watchful Ward had wrought.
Wincing in the wind of winter's weight
Watchful Ward worded a simple warning to Wendy...
"Watch out for the windchill".
The streets are busy with silence,
And Sammy is in his own little world,
Focused on his own private route.
His own secret place,
Private, it’s a funny word,
A funny word just like, secret,
Sometimes we fail to realize how we carelessly carry our secrets on our sleeve.
Sammy wants his feelings, emotions, his life to be hidden away,
Still, in the silence of the streets,
I see the sadness and stress all over his stance.
The shops are packed with stillness,
And Sammy is doing his job, keeping stands tidy,
Keeping customers happy,
Making his manager proud,
Happy, it’s a strange word,
A strange word just like proud,
Feelings for ourselves that we sacrifice for the satisfaction of strangers.
Sammy thrives on the temporary moods of others to determine his contentment,
Yet, in the stillness of the shops and the silence of the streets,
I see the sadness and the stress all over his stance,
In each fragment of his face.
Between the shops and the streets,
Sammy finds a place that he can refer to as home,
But in the silence and the stillness of his slow beating heart,
He understands that something greater than his being is missing.
And Sammy needs a friend, a friend to show him the truth.
A friend to show him that in the stillness of the shops and the silence of the streets,
He carries sadness and stress all over his stance,
In each fragment of his face, and in each shy shift of each shoulder,
For one reason, and one reason alone.
He’s missing one more word oozing sibilance,
The one word that completes, this poem and will fulfill his life.
I am a sheet slitter, I slit sheets. I’m the best sheet slitter that ever slit a sheet. (unknown)
The first time I tried this on someone, I got the bigest kick of of the fact that they didn't even know what they had said, until they looked back at the poem, then looked at me and said, "sleet s_itter?"