~ Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P. S. ~
When it comes to a friendly hi!
One of the best poetry, hearts we can't deny!
Our Sweetheart Linda Marie
No one is smoother and sweeter than her- our peach tree
Always stopping by to say hi, no matter, rain/sleet or snow
Her contest Zany Zoo, one of the soups best show
A woman who never judged me from the start
Linda Marie, thank you for being such a sweetheart
Sharing her delightful poems, a double doze for me
Oh Me- Oh My- That woman can write so much poetry!
I am sure she is loved by the poetry soup staff
LOL! How this blonde bombshell made us laugh
Remember, when she took her laptop to a sandy Island
She smiled, and shared, how the laptop was damaged with so much sand
Hanging out with Linda, it's like singing "Kumbaya my Lord"-- I felt her holding my hand
How sweet of Linda, when she invited us to meet her new Husband?
Linda Marie is loved by her very own BBF team
Letting us know, life has been more than a dream
Her heart so big, she worried when her BFF's weren't around
Leaving notes, making sure we have not hit a poet break down
She keeps us in her heart when we are not logged in
Her beautiful and clever/witty poem will forever remain
Most of her poetry made me smile
Linda Marie's poetry had so much Style!
We prayed for you when we heard about your son
Thank you for sharing your faith in God. -Linda You're #1
A poet I highly recommend
Linda Marie my poetry soup best friend
~Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P. S. ~ 2012
~I"M gonna miss you, 2013
Happy birthday to you :-( Don't leave, 2013
(STILL MISSING YOU) Love always, YOUR BFF -- 2014
Sending my Heart, To one of the soups Leading Ladies
RIP. Linda-Marie Bariana You are forever loved
Fashion cover girls these days make me sick,
All haggard and thin, they look like a stick.
Picking on South Beach diets to trim flat waists
Do they have a life with surgical pastes?
We XL women may not be limelight’s bet
But golly, we're blue chips in the market.
Guy buddies say they like plus- figures more,
Because there is punk in us to explore.
Media buzz makes flat models look so grand
It's annoying to think they are in command;
Oprah, Latifah weigh two hundred pounds
Yet their kind of beauty walks on awed grounds.
Who needs a lipo; do not get depressed,
At times when nothing fits as you get dressed
Just remember one thing, my natural ones
Tons of men relish our charm and round buns!
What Annoys You Contest: Frank H
April seven is joined together in two special ways
My wife and Carol Brown were each born that day
In so many ways, they remind me of each other
For each one has the heart and soul of a mother
Like a great big clown riding a little bitty bike
Antoinette and Carol are the type we naturally like
Two separate women who hold pieces of my heart
Although, each one holds a completely different part
Antoinette was able to see what no one had seen
Inside of this nightmare lived a very beautiful dream
Carol’s beautiful heart was able to help me to see
Poetry Soup was exactly the place I needed to be
Two very different women with two similar souls
Played significant roles in my reaching my goals
One helped me piece together my shattered heart
The other helped me keep it from falling back apart
I think I’m truly about as lucky as any man can be
There are so many different people care about me
Carol is just one of many I love here on the soup
I’m lucky to have landed in such a beautiful group
Carol, never doubt the truth in these words I say
This is the highest complement I could ever pay
To be written alongside a poem with my wife
Means “I Love & Respect” every drop of your life
You’re the very first to have landed in this spot
Old friend I reckon that means I love you a lot
April seventh I’ll proudly find my knee’s and pray
You’ll have a wonderfully blessed special birthday
i wanted to write Carol a Happy Birthday poem
but I wanted to give it special meaning. Anyone
who knows how much I love, admire, and adore
my wife; knows that for me to place someone in
a poem alongside her, is the highest complement
I could ever make. Carol thank you for the love,
friendship, support and prayers you have given me
over the years. I'm very honored to be your friend.
When I read your words they hurt a lot
Some men are men some others are not
Perhaps sex appeal he doesn't lack
With his power women take him back
He's a women hater of the worst kind
He lives to play his games with womens minds
Telling you somehow you are not enough
Through his dark lies you re-live some bad stuff
Yet in the end you come to realize
This bad boy is a devil in disguise
When you reject him he falls to his knees
You see the real him he is a disease
He never deserved you just walk away
For in the end you have the final say
Inspired by Becca's poem "No longer will she agonize"
The lights of Bethlehem still burn,
For Ruth’s mother-in-law to return.
Since her unfettered faith, so strong,
Convinced Ruth, with her, to come along.
Facing bravely the consequences of God’s plan,
Ruth, with Naomi, went to the Promised Land.
To live on in Bethlehem was their decision,
Both seeking to receive God’s provision.
God doesn’t stop being God in adversity
Is what Naomi taught Ruth to believe.
So there in Bethlehem, Ruth sought for a man
To help her with the consequences of God’s plan.
And Boaz of Bethlehem, Naomi’s rich kinsman,
Found Ruth to be both charming and winsome.
So he shared with Ruth the bounty of his field,
When he learned her faith, though foreign, was real.
Thus they became one with the grace of God’s will
And with a prophecy of God their duty to fulfill.
Ruth’s faith in Naomi’s God found reinforcement
While lovelorn Naomi was freed of her resentment.
God’s will it was to give Ruth and Boaz a boy,
And for Naomi to restore her spiritual joy.
Walking, the mail man once carried a bag
Slowly, he now drives a jeep to mail box
Brown spots over my mail; a little moist
Like coffee stain probably from the gutter
Lazy! just sit, won’t get out the vehicle now
Months ago, he walked until women came
Hissing teeth, “Just suits me fine, he mumbles”
Recalled my dog, Ruff, chased him one day
Running, the mail scattered all over the street
Like ginkgo leaves spinning in autumn’s wind
Now I wonder, “What in earth am I to do?”
This new mailperson, different yet the same
First a lazy mailman until women appeared
Rules of the game just immediately changed
It’s no longer mailman; it was never mail woman
Now just mailperson; wow women have power!
Some women are awesome! Roses will be great
She ought to smile and bring much more mail
She may come to my door; sensational smile
Active! I bet she will get out of the vehicle
© Joseph Spence, Sr., February 4, 2009
© All Rights Reserved
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
If I picked my Valentine
she'd be a perfect 10.
She'd have blonde hair with highlites
and answer where and when.
She'd be a little shorter,
yet tall enough to kiss.
Her reach a little longer
to torture us in bliss.
Her shape would be the bomb.
As sexy as they come.
With hair up for the moment
I'd meet her at the prom.
She'd talk a little faster
with words I'd say are smart.
Yet keep me to attention
in hugs up to my heart.
A smile just like a lion.
Her face a source of pride.
One to show my mother.
And then to make my bride.
My Valentine was perfect
as I lost her way back then.
How was I to know that she
would find her perfect 10.
I’m on a planet with a golden kiss
It shimmers with glory, such bliss!
As I zoom in, it turns into a dark land
Peep in, I’m afraid, I cannot stand!
In darkness, I see a bright glowing tower
Inside, a plethora of so called ‘man’ power
Zoom in; I see ‘beast’ kind disguised as ‘man’ kind
Alas! Not a single kind beast could I find
I hear roars of uncivilized beings
And moans of so-called weaklings
I see a trail of emotional turmoil
Those 7 deadly sins wrapped in a dazzling foil
Gifted to humanity, his power, his grey matter
It separates humans from animals and allows us to shatter
The once created planet with a golden kiss
Will it ever show the signs of holy bliss?
I'm angry, about to throw a fit, and I wish a poet would challenge me.
Follow me into the fiery bottomless pit, and I'll show you demonic poetry!
I have a need to make a poet bleed, but no one can be found.
My mother was impregnated by a demons seed, and so i was already hellbound!
I may change my name back, and metamophose into my alter ego.
My back pack has more poetic bombs than Iraq in case you didn't know.
I am the Poetic Warlock, I cast spells with my illuminating writing pen.
When I grab my c#%k, I think of Ms. Comstock, and how I'd like to do her again!
I imagine being in the center of a group, several women surround me.
It's several beautiful women of PoetrySoup, and all wanna piece of my sexuality!
There is "Audrey" with her luscious ass, and exotic accent.
I'm a little tipsy from the wine in my glass, so be aware of the content!
There is "Deb" with her deliciously round breasts, and soft yummy lips.
I did her like I was possessed, and avoided being caught up in any relationship!
There is "Lay" with her angelic face, long legs, and thick thighs.
Such style and grace, for that booty in them levi's looks like paradise!
There is "Ali" who is sweet and innocent, yet ready to go down.
She blew me like an instrument, and so I passed her my crown.
There was Madison, A/K/A, "Ms. Poe," but she could not handle the humor in my
It was a poetic TKO, when I told her, 'I'll take her poetic virginity!'
There was beautiful Jennifer who wrote with a dark pen, and I felt our spiritual
But I soon recognized her ugly sin, which deflated my raging erection!
There was my sexy Latina sister Skat, who played both sides of the fence.
My salsa couldn't tame this pussycat, but still I had plenty of confidence!
There was P.D. who thought she had me possessed, yet she was in love with a drag
I just wanted soupers to know who's best, so I introduced her to my poetic
So many women along the way, and all were she-devils in disquise.
I've kept all these poets lingerie, still inhale their scent, and fantasize!
As I end this last couplet, how can I foget the first woman that touched me.
Charma's sexuality was like playing Russian roulette, and I wanted no part of her
NOTE: This poem was written all in fun, imagination, and to satisfy my own dark
humor. If poets take offense, they should just frankly "Lighten the hell up"
If married women were painted blue
so men knew who to hit on to.
And fatter women came with numbers
so men could tease their weight than wonders.
If meaner women wore bright socks
so men could save themselves hard knocks.
And stupid women's shirts had stripes
that dumb old men could find their types.
If all these wonders became true.
The day when women paint themselves blue.