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Funny Devotion Poems | Funny Poems About Devotion

These Funny Devotion poems are examples of Funny poems about Devotion. These are the best examples of Funny Devotion poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Alliteration | |

Lucky at Home

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 like 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.

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.


Details | Rhyme | |

Heavenly bliss

Heavenly bliss

Shawn and Shauna fell deeply in love
And were on their way to be wed
When a car, on that day, took their lives straight away
As both of their bodies, lie dead

But their spirits were both drawn to heaven
As they stood, in front of the gates
Saint Peter was there, at the top of the stairs
When Shawn hollered loudly  “Just Wait"

Now Peter looked puzzled, at Shawn
And said "This is no time to tarry "
Shawn spoke again, and refused to go in
Without being properly married

Saint Peter replied very softly 
"We don't do that kind of thing here
But if you're willing to wait, 
“I’ll see if I can, get it cleared”

Three months went by, while they waited
Saint Peter, show up with a Priest
"I know it was slow, But I want you to know
You’ll be married Forever at least"

As the wedding was getting started
Shawn asked a question, with doubt
What happens here in heaven  
“If this marriage just doesn’t work out”

A silent filled up the heavens
Saint Peter, was shaking his head
And once he regained his composure
This is what Saint Peter said
 
“It took Three Months to find a Priest
In this Heavenly Foyer
How long do you think, I’ll take for me
Up here, to find you a Lawyer ?”






Details | Alliteration | |

Stink Thinking

Poem by: Mr. Ronald Watson
Sep. 13, 2012
My Poetry on PoetrySoup

Stinking Thinking

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
God Bless.


Details | Verse | |

Enigma's Calling

Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
 
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
 
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
 
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
 
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
 
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart


Details | Sonnet | |

Eternity

I am looking right at you and you don’t even know it.
I will deter your intent and throw you off a steep cliff.
But in the air will be my snuff and gruff you can sniff.
Eventually I will have some sort of mercy of just a bit.

Surely we are above empowering manners of tat for tit. 
Maybe I’ll light a scented candle and blow you my whiff.
Or maybe I will strand you grounding your bones to stiff.
Opposed or decomposed and still composed I won’t quit.

Upside down,
Inside or out,
I’ll throw down.
I am the clout.

Don’t mistake my identity,
Either or, it’s your eternity.

® Registered: Ann Rich   2009


Details | Blank verse | |

Love Song

Here’s what I’m thinking now 
at the end of the world: 

There are no atheists in foxholes— 
no theists in politics. 
If knowledge is power, 
and power corrupts, 
then why did I bother reading you, Cicero? 

Does it matter that I didn't’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

There’s a poetry reading tonight 
whence I’I'll chide other poets 
who don’t sit alone. 
I won’t bring up death 
but I might have to breathe, 
even into a mike 
and mouth lines to get a snap or a boo 
maybe even a wince or two. 

Just maybe I’I'll talk about love 
and how following your heart is like following a dog— 
it only leads to vittles and (female dogs). 
But how many times have I used that line 
since the story I wrote about you, 
a witty and sexy and fictional you? 
Most likely I’I'll read something tonight about you. 

I won’t recite it from memory 
because I don’t think about you that much anymore, 
not even when I search for my socks in your drawer 
or when I put on the scratchy sweaters you give me, 
horizontally striped to bring out my eyes? 

I don’t remember your eyes 
except they are blue. 
And I don’t remember you, 
not even when I smell cucumber and apple, 
not even when I sleep on my side of the bed 
or when you walk through the door 
happy to see me; 
even then I don’t remember you. 
Does it matter that I don’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

How about a few one-liners 
for the end of days?— 

Depression is self-awareness, 
which you’d know if you were; 
I need Ritalin to listen to you, 
Lithium to hug you, 
Viagra to feel you, 
and Valium to sleep. 

All you need 
is me standing there, waiting at home 
with turns of phrase and word plays 
telling you about why I hate Ayn Rand 
but want to buy as much as I can 
and how I love celebrity gossip 
and detest poetry slams 
and find rhyming trite 
except when I am. 

Hypocrites can still be right, 
which you do understand 
because you nod at my nonsense 
about fighting the man. 

But now, at the end of all things— 
I’m speechless and witless and pointlessly well-read, 
and you’re just sitting there, smiling 
asking me to pass the bread.


Details | Rhyme | |

Sheep's Lament

It's nature's way that in the spring 
Emotions make a lamb's soul sing 
And so it was my young heart found 
That love is not by species bound 

Well cruelly spent, did cupid's dart 
Pierce deep my foolish woolly heart 
A wiser sheep would fain desert 
Such love unwise and bound to hurt. 

Nor was it then that common sense 
Came forth to give me sound defence 
No matter how well meant and groomed 
My ardent love was clearly doomed. 

For fate is fickle, fate unkind 
Fate unhinged my young sheep's mind 
Though strong inside my true love burns 
It never wins my love's returns 

So ardent burn my ovine fires 
Kindling noble deep desires 
But I know what e'er I do 
That four legs never yet won two 

She lives a life I cannot know 
And goes to places sheep don't go 
I patient wait and hope she'll pass 
But know she'll never share my grass. 

I know it's doomed, I know I've lost 
My passion most unkindly crossed 
For even if she knew my heart 
I know our lives must stay apart. 

But maybe she might scratch my nose 
My love troth's a half-eaten rose 
With that held in her lovely hand, 
To think on, she might understand.


Details | Heroic Couplets | |

An Old "Happy" Couple

Cherish me as I grow old, and am surely liable to forget things. 
 I know how interesting life is and the contentment it brings.
I know you'll make excuses to try and be miserable and even try not to go.
 Now just have a good trip, even though I know your stress will just grow.

White, sandy beaches and salt tasted air, with an ocean so cold.
 Aggravation sets in as we try to put our lawn chairs down to unfold.
Breathe, my love, its as simple as remembering the latch on the side.
 Surely, all you had to do is ask, I'm tired of your old, stubborn pride.

Finally, we get our chairs situated and I'm ready to bask in the sun.
 You ask for sun block and as I search, you assume I brought none.
Its just at the bottom of the beach bag, you stubborn old ass!
 And don't think I don't see you sneaking a sip out of that flask!

I turn bronze as I used SPF 40, you chose SPF 15, and look at you.
 Red as a lobster, mean as crab, and I'm enjoying the view.
I tried to tell you, but so stubborn, do you ever plan to listen?
 Probably not now, nor never, so your skin will always be red and glisten.

How are you supposed to relax now that you can't move not even a limb?
 Our stress free vacation, is as always, starting to look grim.
Oh well, aloe you up, and off to dinner we shall go and have some fun.
 Take some Soma, Lortab, and Xanax and you'll be good and numb.

An hour later and you're stress free, and mostly out of that pain.
 Good thing, because its in the forecast for Florida rain!
We'll hobble around the block and get soaking wet from head to toe.
 Knowing tomorrow you'll be back in pain and stressed so we'll have to go.

But its like this every year, we plan to stay, but I know how you are.
 One or two days of driving makes you stiff from sitting in the car.
It'll take the rest of our vacation for you to blister and finally peel.
 You're the entertainment in my life, and that's why I'm with you still!


Details | Limerick | |

Slow Golf

Golfers ahead were really slow
because their dead balls just wouldn't go
     we offered them beer,
     later we found cheer--
 they stepped aside to let it outflow.


Details | Free verse | |

Self PORTRAIT

I will start with using my hand as a guide
And in the end I will open my eyes that I will decide

I consider to do this with one thing in mind
I will close my eyes and will imagine it blind
With no colors or fractionation of the light
Just plain me and a vision with my hand as my sight

My hair is very coarse and some what fine
What I just described is so benign  
I twirl my hair and make it bend 
And I will say its very clean not oily on the ends

As I press on my forehead I simply feel a distinct part
I notice from hair to skin it is very different from the start
The simple partings from hair not like skin
I am going to feel with my other hand and begin

The smoothness of my skin like years of water eroding a rough rock surface smooth
Not just that my skin is like home to years of stories like scars and attitude
And when I raise my eyebrows the wrinkles it makes is more so for expression
I did not notice it with certain ideas, thoughts, and emotions

I run my hands down to my eyelids I feel movement of my eyes trying to peek
Eyelids that I have, vibrates with some kind of fear, Why?, that I will seek
Just now as I thought about it a sensation ran through my brain
My eyes is the world to me and that is true and not insane

Myself portrait of me is through my touch for now
But to finish it I will have to open my eyes soon and how
I been in a trance full of so many ideas just with my eyes closed
I run my hand on my nose and lips and I smile who could apposed

The feelings in the tip of my fingers rub on my chin and jaw with care
I do notice roughness of unshaved velcro gripping hair 
I skip my ears so I will sneak a feel with my fingers I chose
I notice it is like my nose with cartilage, so I don't suppose

I will now open my eyes that I will use a mirror to see myself
My head is oval shape and my neck is like a stump, please help
My skin is very tan and my eyes are brown with my eyes I see
With all the description with my hands, one sure thing is the same and key

It is the description of measurements that is what my hands and eyes can see me
With a smile I am looking into the mirror and I can describe that I am happy
Myself portrait of me is such a way to get to know myself once more
I will never think it was a waste of time or a bore




Details | ABC | |

The Vent

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
Situations
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
Simply put 
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
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.


Details | Senryu | |

Quit Running

mom say's
quit running !!!!
  {walk}


Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | Rhyme | |

Flailin'

Flailin’,  flailin’, flailin’;
There goes my ball sailin’
Into a trap, the water or the woods.

Flailin’, flailin’, flailin’;
You can hear me wailin’,
“Why won’t that damn ball go where it should?

Drives go right.  Putts go wrong.
I shank my wedges or ‘skull’em’ long.
My golf game’s just no damn good.

I’m swingin’ too hard & lookin’ up;
As if I’ll actually see it go in the cup….
As if it ever really would.

My alignment’s too far left or right.
My ball can find the only tree or trap in sight,
Even if the shot starts out lookin’ good.

These days, I carry some special tools:
A handheld weed eater with extra spools
And a pruning saw, in case I’m in the woods.  

I’ve even tried to ‘buy’ a better game.
No matter.  My scores were just as lame.
Those new clubs didn’t do what they should.

Bogies & doubles...even triples... are common scores.
I very rarely get pars any more.
Believe me, I’d change it if I could.

My buddies said it must be me,
A teaching pro I should go see.
They said he’d fix my game…..if anybody could.

The pro said, “Hit some balls while I watch you.
Just set up and hit’em like you normally do.
We’ll see if I can do your game any good.”

After the first bucket of balls I hit,
He calmly said, “Take two weeks off…then quit.
Take my advice.  You really should.”

Now, what really has me vexed,
I’m wondering what I’ll try next.
That pro’s advice was no damn good.

So, I struggle along with my flailin’ game;
But, strangely enough, have fun just the same,
Finding hope in rare shots that are actually good.


Details | Free verse | |

Excuses Excuses

If Peter Piper picked a pack of pickled peppers, would you care? Would the peck be put in a glass jar? What if he dropped a hair in there? And, if Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet digging and found the jar that Piper had hidden in the muck, along side the skull of Cro-Magnon man? “Ahhh, NO we’ve found the hip girdle and he’s a she!” Well, ole Pipper’s pecker would have gone to the pie in the sky and Miss Muffet’s tuffet would have gone to compost; So, how would the archeologist know for sure? " Why the HIP, you hafta have hips, miles and miles and mile of hips… Baby you can be a hero of course just put that ‘orse behind the cart!” Heart, well it’s left the building too. “Geeezzz it was just a pump whatcha want from a pump?” Thump, thump, from the bump, bump, then ya hump, hump, and my goodness, we’re back to Peter Piper and his pecker? “NO, no, his peck of pickles and Muffet’s missin’ tuffet? Well, I say the stars, yes the stars, show the way, the celestial meaning of the id, the I, the you, the ego too, and love “Ahhhhhh love the excuse for it all!” The pickles, the muffins, the tuffet, the bumping the humpin’ The free for all of we!


Details | Free verse | |

The Egg Eaters Hallow

HE WEARS A COAT OF ASH
ALWAYS TALKING 
TALKING FAST 
LIKE A SNAKE THROUGH THE GRASS
HE SLITHERS AND CRAWLS 
HE SLITEHRS AND CRAWLS
BUROWS THROUGH THE WALLS
WHATS YOUR NAME  
LETS PLAY A GAME 
I’M INSIDE I’M INSIDE
TRY TO HIDE
I WILL SEEK 
GO AND CRY 
GO AND SHRIEK 
I’M INSIDE 
TRY TO HIDE 
NO SECRETS YOU CAN KEEP 
WHERE DO I FIND THE ONE THAT SLEEPS
HE WANDERS THROUGH THE SHELL 
TO FIND IT AND TAKE IT 
TO SOME FAR OFF HELL 
HIS TONGUE IS QUICK 
HIS MIND FULL OF WIT
HIS CLAWS ARE MEAN 
HIS CLAWS ARE MEAN 
AND HIS MIND IS KEEN 
SEARCHING FOR WEAKNESS 
SEARHING FOR SECRETS 
HOW MANY OF YOU ARE THERE 
HOW MANY OF YOU COMPARE 
WHATS YOUR NAME 
IT’S A SHAME 
IT’S A SHAME 
I WILL BREAK YOU 
I WILL TAKE YOU 
FINDING FLAWS
OLD WOUNDS RAW 
DIGGING DEEP 
DIGGING DEEP 
HE FINDS IT IN THE KEEP  
HELLO LITTLE ONE 
HAVING FUN 
I HAVE NO NAME 
I PLAY NO GAMES 
ALL I HAVE ARE FANGS
AND YOU ARE HERE 
TO HATCH DISPARE 
I’V COME TO MAKE YOU DISAPEAR 
SEE YOUR WALLS 
SEE YOUR WALLS 
THEY’RE CLOSING IN 
THEY’RE CLOSING IN  
WE WILL BE COMPRESSED 
FORMING MESH 
MERGING INTO ONE 
LIKE ALL THE OTHERS 
YOU ARE DONE 
NEVER SPAWNED 
TO FIGHT THE DAWN 
I VE COME TO MERGE WITH  YOUR SOUL 
TAKE CONTROL 
YOU WILL BE 
JUST ANOTHER TWISTED PART OF ME 
ALL YOUR NEGATIVITY 
WILL SUBMERESE
WILL DISPERSE
JUST ANOTHER TWISTED PART OF ME
ALL YOU EGGS 
KEEP ME FED
KEEP ME GROWING 
SECRETS SHOWING 
KILLING DEMONS 
BEFORE THEY’RE BRED 
KILLING DEMONS 
TO KEEP ME FED 
A FORMLESS SOUL 
MADE OF MESH 
A FORMLESS SOUL 
MADE OF UNBORN FLESH 
WINING THE WAR 
ONE EGG AT A TIME 
ONE EGG AT A TIME 


Details | Narrative | |

Follow The Winner

 Some folks always follow the winner 



 I didn't even have the courage 
To tell you how you made me feel 
Your laughter 
Your body language 
Way back then, 
A wall flower. 

you thought that I weren't good enough 
Undeveloped beauty 

Now, Virtuousness, 
I am blooming; 

People always follow the winner


Details | List | |

I hate about you



 I hate the way you make me feel guilty about being jealous when other girls hit on you, 

 I hate the way you can go forever without even seeing or talking to me when your friends are around, 
but expect me to drop everything to talk to you when you want my attention.

I hate how you're so happy at times and I'm so sad, 

I hate how you treated me like *****but yet I'm the one feeling bad.

I hate how I feel so weak and you're so strong, 

I hate how you think you do no wrong.

I hate how you pretend that everythings okay, 

I hate how you took my innocence away and act sometimes like it ment nothing.

I hate how I feel so scared, 

I hate how I how fast I feel in love with you without a fighting chance.

I hate the way you look at me and just know when something is wrong.

I hate how everything we have means nothing to everybody else

I hate the way I feel inside, 

I hate the nights I spent alone and cried.

I hate how everything seems wrong, 

I hate the feeling of wanting to belong.

I hate how you're always in my head, 

I hate everything mean you have ever said.

I hate wondering how you really feel about me, 

I hate how you try to go out with certin friends you feel like you have to lie

I hate how when your job takes you away for long times I left with alone and want to do nothing but cry

I hate it how you can just come in and out of my life and feel like everything is alright
while I am the one that has to put up with the problems, family and drama every night


But most of all I hate the way I can't stop thinking about you, and I hate it even more because I know you know its true

All these thing don't make me really hate you, 
It just makes me lust you more an more and it feeds my wanting you right down to the core


Details | Free verse | |

The Waken

She waded through the dreams as she drank her coffee.

Always speaking of the past and her lost memories.

She was fine as frog hair and fleetingly thought of a time when it mattered.

Her old man had died of a broken heart in one of those.

She loved him and she loved those days but was left with his brake.

She lifted each one and slowly remembered and the love.

What shall I eat as if it counted?

She didn't wish to move on and she tried to embrace.

The woman climbed and the thought separated and died.

Have to keep on, for the moving made it all leave.

But those whiskers burned and waking she called for him.

And realized it was just a dream and the whiskers burning.

Mr Johnson was nudging  her as she reached for the old man.

Mr Johnson lived there or she lived with him.

It all was so confusing and he was a clean freak.

Always grooming himself and a cough to get the hair up.

Mr Johnson had a pair when young but she had him fixed.

Why did he shave so infrequently going back to sleep.

I wish he shaved regularly and she hoped he would in the night.

Hoping for the burn she lowered herself back to the pillow.....




*****cat Johnson is my cat that when my wife and i separated she took him back to Italy with her.. Momma said his name was troppo loungo {too long} so she changed it to Mr Johnson...


Details | Couplet | |

Where does the Time go

I feel as though time is slipping away,
And more is gone each passing day…


Details | Limerick | |

Future Prediction for Home Buyers

Forget about mortgage or rent.
These days with our paychecks fast spent,
In the future I see 
The hot question will be. . . 
How much for one BIG sturdy tent?


For Carolyn Devonshire's Contest: Economic Woes Limerick


Details | Limerick | |

A Limerick To Those Who Can Not Acknowledge The Evolution Of Poetry:

You are witnessing a change in tone,
A new piece of the Rosetta Stone...
It may blow your mind
To find your behind
Has fallen quite far from the throne.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Pricked

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.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

I

If its money I got its money ill keep. If its money I have its money ill weep. If its love that I give its love ill receive. For I am but no one who just see's beneath. Some say your only as strong as you feel, but how could we change..in a place that's so unreal. People are hearing but..not really hearing. Why is the world so blind. I keep on screaming and screaming and screaming for things to be revolutionized. I am just a small song in a world full of cries, laughter, tears and french-fries.


Details | Ballade | |

Lisa Maree

Dedicated to my darling daughter. Lisa Maree, the kindest girl in the world


Lisa Maree

Lisa Maree, you baffle me
You just don’t seem to care
You throw your money all around
And people who won’t share
Will try to take you for a ride
And you can’t always see
What some folk try to do to you
You’ve too much trust in thee.

Lisa Maree, it’s plain to see
That you’re a special girl
Though sometimes you go off on one
And mind goes in a whirl
Your heart is gold, pure solid gold
You’re as soft as heated honey
You have a sense of humor too
You even think 'you’re' funny.

Some might find you hard to take
These fickle kinds of folk
Will run you down for being you
And treat you like a joke
But fickle folk don’t mean a thing
You’re far above the rest
When you are helping someone out
That’s when you’re at your best.

23 August 2013 @ 1817hrs





Details | Lyric | |

The Unhappy Moth

She chose a red scarf. The most red 
of them all.
Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color,
just as wine.

She carved from the red scarf
from the middle
to the size of a Martini glass.

Then she carved one more glass,
and she kept carving 
till she fell asleep.

Yesterday
she saw her Beloved Moth 
flirting with a Younger Moth, 
carving together from a sweater
while she was getting busy,
carving in the shelves.

The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine
woolen wine, 
last night.
She drank lots, too much
for a Moth.
The Unhappy Moth got drunk
and fell asleep
on the red scarf,
unhidden
with a heart filled with peace.

She was not afraid no more. 
Now she could be seen easily,
laying on the scarf
and easily crushed.

The Unhappy Moth was not 
afraid of death no more,
at least, now she knew 
how wonderful the red scarfs are
and that they taste
like red wine.


Details | Senryu | |

Menacing Moms

<                                     just look at my son ...
                                 down to size of thirty two
                                 ....    fencing hackling




                                      meat and potatoes ...
                                   leftovers from my mother
                                 ...  well isn't that special



                                     eat sleep and ... running
                                     thats all I will ever see
                                   ...  glad father isn't here




Written by Katherine Stella
For Dr Rams IN-LAWS Contest
Gl All





Details | Prose Poetry | |

Thoughts from the Mind of a Blogger


It was a chilly morning in paradise...

Autumn was already here...

A time for strange things to happen, as it is that time of year...

She was up most of the night, doing a write....

Regarding some hubs and her series titled "Legend of Fred "

Ahh the questions she had... rolling around in her head..

Were “where were her readers, her followers “ her Hubbers...?

They had all seemed to like what she wrote in the past..

But lately her hubs were falling so fast....

She had written articles on health and life..

perhaps she had targeted too much strife...

Maybe they wanted to read about food..

But when you're not a cook, that would be kinda rude..

Oh, will wonders never cease ?

So she decided she'd get some zzzzz's

She lay in her bed, not moving at all...

but breathing quite deeply, as I saw the covers fall...

So I stretched my muscles and walked ever so slow..

So as not to wake her , then I spied her big toe..

Sticking out from the blanket..it was such a temptation..

And with me having such a" foot fixation".. however...

She needed the rest , so she can finish her quest..

I have some thoughts of my own...

that I would like to share in a poem..

And I would be happy to help her.. but..

I don’t think the world is ready for me...

as I am a BLOGGING CAT.. you see

So I will close for now...everyone have a great week...as

I'm off to seek something that has a tweak and a squeak..


Details | Couplet | |

Spritual Gangster

You don’t want to miss this
But don’t be confused this aint Christmas
You’ve gotta get real my brotha and kiss this
I’m a spiritual criminal with lipstick

If you’re lucky you just might make my hit list
Coz I’m a murderer killing *****es ego’s with fake riffs
If you’re a moral criminal and do the minimal you can’t hit this
We must stand together my brother to beat this

Pleasure - pain, generosity - blame, loss - gain infamy and greed
It’s not hard don’t get angry and there’s no need to bleed
It’s just like John Lennon said when he said love is all you need
Stand with me my friend and let go of fear if you want to be freed 

I’ll mind punch you in the heart and give you a soul diss
Aint no big brotha gonna hold me and frisk this
You’re not lost or all alone coz my arrows fire straight and can’t miss
Things aint changed and love can still fix this

Pleasure pain, Generosity blame, loss gain infamy and greed
It’s not hard don’t get angry and there’s no need to bleed
It’s just like John Lennon said when he said love is all you need
Stand with me my friend and let go of fear if you want to be freed 
Love -love- love is all you need


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

A Letter To My First Crush

A LETTER TO MY FIRST CRUSH My Dearest Kevin My hands shake nervously as I write this letter The fountain pen drips the ink in heart-shapes Pieces of my heart as it reach out to you I just want you to know that loving you isn’t easy My dozen of Harlequins and my entire Mill @ Boon collection Have'nt prepared me To deal with a player like you I heard it through the grapevine, That you are heartbreaker and womanizer With only one thing on your adolescence mind My grandmother always told me, that Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free My grandma is a wise woman More like a heroine in my eyes I am the heroine of my life More like a Nancy Drew without a clue on how to love you I am never satisfy, I am curious And mysterious However I am very chary Kind of gal ^ I do believe that I am in love with you today However, I might hate you tomorrow Because you never know with a secret admirer To the man I love today They are nothing more than I can say. I will wait for your reply my love