Zuzuni on the badlands
Montana's muddy badlands spread for thirty seven miles
along a cleft of sandstone bed, eroded years before;
the chestnut paced upon the bare of grass and well worn aisles
and I wore two new Navy Colts, of gauging forty four
beneath the noon light that defines but also eyes beguiles.
An anchorite, some years ago, upon the ridge of Grapes
where monasteries in the clouds are reaching out to God,
I learned to draw and shoot amidst the fog's white waving drapes
and prayed til the time was ripe t' abandon this abode,
cause solitude was molding deeds, constringing, thus, escapes.
I saw them waiting on the trail; three bandits stood apart:
Coyote Chit, Cheesecake Labif and Mambo-Jumbo Crock
with cross-tied low their pistols stood, assumptive and upstart
bemocking fools who patented their e'er noetic block
that teachers, tho', could not explain; not even wise Descartes!
My shots intended at their guns, the hoisted hammers broke;
I ordered them to start the dance that turns the clouds to rain
the land was in compelling need, as turf and plants evoked
the sympathy of Heavens that magnanimous ordained
the good ol' boys (and volunteers) to dance the rain's refrain.
Coyote was allowed to dance a prominent gavotte
meanwhile Labif's romantic soul preferred a marigold
but Crock's mazurka had untied the nimbus' Gordian knot
and rain began to pour upon those who the skies extolled
heroic men were meant to be, defining, thus, a blot.
Zuzuni, the Algonquin chief, had noticed this ordeal
and marveled at the outlaws forms, that caused the skies to rain
in order so, to buy the fools he offered a good deal
fourteen strong horses for each man, who danced to ascertain
that rains returned upon the slopes and also on the plains.
© 2014-10-15, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
Contest Name: Sketch a Character
Sponsor: Gautami Phookan
My favorite cousin named Marge
is almost as big as a barge.
So one would assume,
not knowing the groom,
the guy would most likely be large.
But he was a small man named Tim
“As thin as a broom” describes him.
While Marge would guffaw,
Tim would watch her with awe
and just smile for he was so prim!
When the preacher addressed him and said,
“You may now kiss the bride,” Tim turned red,
for their lips could not meet.
With high heels on her feet,
Marge stood towering over his head.
She leaned down while Tim stood on his toes,
but for being in such a strange pose,
Marge then came toppling down
crushing Tim neath her gown
while the whole church erupted in “Ohhhhh’s.”
All was well, and thereafter, we ate;
then we planned next to dance until late.
But none could foresee
the small tragedy
that had us all leaving by eight!
Marge had tossed off her heels for a glide
on the dance floor, but when they both tried
to dance, Tim got snagged
by that dang gown and dragged
as his bride was beginning to slide. . .
Now shoeless, poor Marge could not stop.
Toward a table with candles on top,
they slid, and the groom
then set fire to the room
by landing with a belly flop.
Poor Tim by the candles got lit,
and we were all having a fit,
for the fire got spread fast
till the Best Man at last
got us all wet extinguishing it!
Inspired by the title of the movie: My Big Fat Greek Wedding
& : Joann Grisetti's "My Cousin's Wedding" Poetry contest
What art thou, splendid maid, inclined to verse?
Upon the skies, the stars thy words rehearse.
The darkness cometh with a Fall's request
while in thy kitchen, Gail, should do your best;
for spicy tastes the famous bard now begs
but you regaled his pleas with two boiled eggs.
The Eros Iamb feet, sung by the sire,
repeated are by stray cats' alto choire.
while resonant, of music flaws he shuns,
cats meow at him, from two deep tin trash cans.
Your bucket-full of water then, is thrown,
to fall upon his head and new iphone.
Enchanted so, thou callest the fine bard,
to dance with you Fall's jazzy avant-garde.
© G. V., 10-03-2013
On the dance-floor they did a zigzag
But he was an ol’ scallywag:
- “If you feel something hard
- Pay no regard …
It’s just my colostomy-bag”
Twas winter ninety-seven, all around the town
Houses lit up magically, parties all around.
Boyfriend says, come with me, to works Christmas dinner,
Dress up chic and sexy, looking like a winner.
Hair all done up, makeup on, gown that fits just right
We’ll impress his colleagues, I was such a pretty sight.
Ushered to our table, we sat with others there
Such a lovely evening, a truly posh affair.
Delicious food, friends were made, laughter filled the air,
A real nice Christmas party, memories to share.
Then came all the speeches, boring us all to death,
The best part was the here here’s, sniffing wines sweet breath.
Finally was time to dance, music filled the night,
Dancing in my ball gown which now was fitting tight.
Time and time we danced that night, in each other’s arms,
Him with me and me with him, showing off our charms.
Suddenly I laughed so hard, teeth went flying out,
Slide across the dance floor, feet pushing them about.
In a flash down on my knees, scurrying about,
Found the little suckers, and popped them in my mouth.
At the time I hoped and prayed nobody had seen,
When I popped them in my mouth, and where they had been.
Looking back, now I laugh, thinking it was funny,
I’m happy now my mouth can say “C’est la vie.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
For Judy Konos Contest:
C’est la vie
I got up at six this morning
Feeling kind of weak
I had a shave and showered
As I walked my bones would creak
I have very bad arthritis
But I can kill the pain
I just have to take Viagra
Then go back to bed again
My girl is exasperated
Found out six months ago
A Viagra in the morning
Will keep me on the go
I cuddled next to her
":Lets dance they're playing our song"
Sleepy eyed she lay there
Snoring all along
Next morning I woke up
A note said she was gone
"Next time you hear your music
You must dance it all alone"
When Causticat expressenced her doverse,
Aficionadog Yamahawker howled
the beseechickens' song that coyoterse
was chickencouraging allegrettold.
Chickenclopedia somehow pignored
the roosterrestrials' dancing chickentreat
Aficionadog's dance was abroadored
and his cathletics multilevelite.
The roosterrestrials thus, barracudanced
Galas! the maidenchanted Causticat
wide eyed she balladmired the saladvanced
and chickenable braves to broadenact.
Aficionadog's triple Axle loop
combined with Ballu Tundu workbenchasse
Romanaged to lexiconvince the coop,
and libidog of self Igniting Cats.
The Vibradog Mandelbrotating chanced
and buffalone friskated on the ice
cattractive Causticat and him codanced
with Yahahawker to acrobatice.
© G. V. 09-10-2013 All rights reserved
im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
And I as I pull myself together
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now
there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.
She was a tappin' to the tunes...
of those Mississippi blues...
step-pin' out, in her white...
We were a watchin' her a prancin',
all through the kitchen, dancin'...
for she was so...hot & sizzlin'...
hummin' to those Mississippi tunes...
Funny curlers too, upon...
her head...for a new... Hair dew,...
she was, a swirlin'-in that bakers apron,
when her head...star-ted a bobbin' to...
those Mississip-pi blues,
'Pots were a knockin'...
Grandma a sockin' down all she brews,
while that kettle there was whistlin',
in har-mo-ny, with them good ole...
good ole...mississip-pi moves,'
That floor there, was a bouncin'
holdin' hands we were a jumpin',
an-a hoppin' In the kitchen, to those...
Where Grandma's feet were a stompin',
In her new...New-white-sexy-pat-en-
After the storm, she received her order of pepperoni-mushroom,
(it was a special delivery by her favorite pizza-man),
well baked over coals, on an oven-surface of tiled macadam,
covered with tons of smoked fresh Mozzarella, imported from Bhutan!
The pizza-man, (who outfaced the Storm in a morello-burgundy Chevrolet),
awaited patiently outside her house, lifting weights;
inside, she was chatting with her ballet tutor, while a bouquet
of rare rose blooms he imported for her, from Bering Straits.
The flowers arrived in a silver-gold 'enveloppant',
thence, très elegant, rang her bell, dancing in front of her door,
wearing a pistachio Diesel sweat-shirt and Compagnie Canedienne pants,
performing jumping sommersolts; best part of his acrobatic galore.
She opened her mouth in awe! His daring leg's step-arabesque
was a provocation; thus, she responded with a tread-chasse,
- and then, both slid on ice dancing in a theater burlesque
that their mind created following the notes of a distant jazzy brass.
In harmony performed jump combinations, 'et sur la tiers',
with a rose in her hair, she started eating a tasteful slice of the pizza,
while he lifted her over his head, with a 'reverse',
(- fact is, right after her last 'lutz-jump' fall, she suffered amnesia).
Trying to hold her, he gallantly bumped his head on a fender,
and while listening to numerous chirping yellow birds,
decided that she was ancient Penelope and he, a contender,
who fought with bravery to conquer her heart she kept undeterred.
Dancing, they swayed behind the hill, and gliding on a vast plain,
he noticed that they were Pizza-Transferred through time,
she confessed that her granny was from Aquitaine,
thenceforth in incandescence they ice skated until Springtime.
© 02-13-2013, All Rights Reserved
(ABAB rhyming prose (!! Hmm...))
Inspired by "Mumford and Sons" song
After the Storm..
" There will be a time you'll see ...with no more tears , and Love will not break your Heart , but dismiss your fears . Get Over your hill and see , what you find there , with Grace in your heart and flowers in your hair "
Sponsor: Shanity Rain
Contest Name: new contest by Shanity Rain!! " After the storm "
Dancing with the devil
Like I never danced before
Doing the fiery tango
On a fire flaming floor
In the crook of his arm
Our hips pressed together
Curving me round and round
Like I'm a weightless feather
Our feet move to Milonga
While forsaken souls watch
White cheek pressed to red cheek
His breath smells of age old scotch
My foot darts between his shoes
A fancy leg twist around his calf
Capturing the heat and passion
While trying not to hysterically laugh
If I can dance to perfection
Ironically I'll get to leave
Angels give me strength
And let my soul win reprieve
For I was meant to dance
In paradise on a white cloud
Sent to hell for dancing the tango
In Heaven only waltzes are allowed
Freshman year, newcomer to public school,
my hormones were roused by Billy D. in typing class.
Sadie Hawkins’ Dance just days away;
a chance for girls to ask boys out.
Too shy to show my interest,
crumpled bits of paper I formed into balls,
tossed them at the back of Billy’s head.
Unsettled, as any boy would be, he glanced back at me.
Wry smile, how could he know how my heart raced?
Leo sat next to Billy, amused by this interaction.
Because of his demeanor, it was Leo I asked to the dance.
Turned out Leo couldn’t dance,
though conversation was no problem.
Leo spent the entire night talking about being an Eagle Scout --
tying knots, marking trails, building campfires --
seemed we had little in common.
No chemistry at all, but Leo said, “Thank you,” at the dance’s end.
For years I spent many days wondering
what if I’d slipped Billy an invitation note,
instead of lobbing paper balls?
Perhaps he would have said, “Yes.”
I might have had my first embrace;
maybe even my first kiss.
Years later at a school reunion
Billy looked more handsome than ever;
served as CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation.
He introduced me to his pretty wife
as the girl who pitched paper balls at his head.
*True story for Carol Brown’s “First Date” contest. (Some folks were lucky to have
more romantic first dates. LOL)
Confessions aren't easy but here I go
I'm about to tell you what you don't know
I secretly dance at home all alone
I like karaoke with a microphone
Singing and dancing I ain't got no skills
Still it's way better than swallowing pills
As I perform I still have one great fear
If I sing to loudly others will hear
Sometimes I practice at home in the shower
Enjoying myself for many an hour
Maybe one day I will be good enough
Then I won't be afraid to strut my stuff
Until that distant day please leave me alone
I will keep up practice to improve my tone
John Travolta moves, singing like the King
Imagine all the joy one day I will bring
Please keep my secret, you made me confess
Others could be worse, perhaps they cross dress
Confessions not easy secrets come out
Now you will learn what Soupers are about.
Sweet Anne's Confessions of a Poetry Souper's contest.
Your love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and i'm
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried
by the dove of someone I use to know.
Amore, wrongful was his raging flame
that burned for thee and turned him to a coal
combustible attempts were put to shame
his ashes danced inside a shopping mall.
His chickens cry because their much loved sire
became a fool composing love sonnets
about deep burning detrimental fire
that cauterized his lonely French baguettes.
Love's catastrophic and caustic waves
electroshocked his nervous system, gal,
amaranthine his agitations rave
and jumps he like a bronco 'n the corral.
Inside the ring of fire performs his dance
with vanished logic and unfocused glance.
© G.V. 06-19-2013 All rights reserved
This Pole Dancer she was with me
All other men must pay her fee
Still I must confess
My family’s stress
But Polish dance lessons aren’t free
A ballerina's tutu,
Should be called a four,
Unless she's wearing two tutus,
And then it's even more.
Old King David danced.
I can’t, I have two left feet.
I can’t sing either.
~The Rise of the ZUMBIES~
The Zombies are finished we squished them away
They won’t be back eating brains on any other day
Sucking the life out of all that they meet
The undead are dying and now admit defeat.
Not rising from the ground; the undead are now gone
There is though a new group that we have to take on.
Just as dangerous in a new way, to suck you in they pray
Insidious and strong so watch over you shoulder each day.
Hips wiggling, thigh strengthening, they have burst onto the scene
The child of the Zombie is here and crying out as a newborn will be seen.
A wiggle of the hips, the child rises from the fate of the Zombie
Be not afraid and don’t throw a thrombi.
The child of the Zombie is now called Zumba
The reanimated dead are with here but with new agile lumbar’s
Hips that wiggle, bits that jiggle and dance their way fit
Thighs so strong, legs seem long; it makes you want to go try it.
From Meringue to Salsa to Mambo and Cumba
This new threat is rising and it’s called the Zumba
Those that could not move of lift their feet in dance
They are rising from their chairs they are given a new chance
Flamenco is hot, bingo wings are not, and new strength is given to the knees
This new craze abounds, the Zumba is here so watch out for the new found Zumbies.
They will try to entice you with their wiles, they want you to dance your way fit
Be careful it’s a ploy, a new undead toy, and you may be the next they will pick.
A long time ago somewhere over there
a strange man danced a wee jig.
Honkies are weird like that.
.....Tam-tams in jungle
Play for Hippopotami
That dance and tangle.
I do not know?
Oh, when will be Spring in Alexandria,
The Chrysanths crave for company
The sea breeze brings a melody,
The day that will be spring in Alexandria.
The flowers are going to bloom,
Proud like the star-dressed Daffodil
Dancing on the windy top of the hill,
The day the flowers will bloom.
Their scent will be carried away,
with the Cherry-pie giggling jingle
covering all paths with a lilac glow,
the day the scent will be carried away.
The bumblebee will stop her dance,
On the Everlasting tiny yellow petal
Dreaming memoirs of the coming Fall,
The day the bumblebee will not dance.
There is a secret Garden in Alexandria,
Not in the deep sea, or in the library
And no other town can be as flowery
As the secret garden of Alexandria.
We are sick to think we have done something big.
We are in a daze and nothing more.
The cats that came were deformed.
They legs were made to dance.
The rigmarole was a silent scream.
They were as colorful as butterflies.
They walked around with scary eyes.
The fat men that brought them were sloppy pigs.
They were sick to think they had done something big.
Immense the ravage these pigs were.
They were friends to the deformed felines.
They stomachs were made to prey human.
The raze caused confusion.
They were to form the great divided.
They walked around with scary eyes.
They would feast on the rodents that thrive in the ground.
They were to be taught this or they would be wiped out.
On a deadly morn, the cats woke.
By noon, the pigs honked.
The people of the City did their work.
This would be the day guns smoked.
The Cats lives were lived in dilapidation.
The Pigs lives were in slop.
The Wild Boars would try to convert.
The pigs were pigs ate by the humans.
The battle started.
The humans killed more.
The wild boars receded.
The deformed felines were destroyed.
~Inspired by the expressive art of poetry via storytelling, fantasy, fairy tales, tall tales, etc.~
So you want to dance
Go and change your pants
The jeans your wearing just simply won’t due
Next we’ll view your moves
See how your body groves
Please don’t take too long I only have a few
Oh my you’ve done this before
I’d like to see some more
Maybe you could teach me something new
Contest: May I Have This Dance
by: Virginia Frayer