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
You question duskiness "Whereas he be?"
Be careful pal; he hides behind the tree!
Inside the sneaky shades he aptly lurks
because you've drunk too many Cuty Sarks.
You, silly chump! You're shaking on your feet;
Contele Dracula* and tough tidbit
exists inside your foolishness' resource
and punishes your wrongs without remorse.
Excess in drinking could be bad for you;
tis not that you'll become a drunk boo-hoo
but he'll metamorphose to baseball bat
and if you drink again, he'll kick your butt.
I know you're stupefied and very scared
cause Gigi hides in pizza boxes where'd
jump up, if thee besotted be and fool,
and then consume your pizza, super-cool.
Admit it, dude! You're shivering in fear!
But if you prayed he would disappear,
expect him to start dancing everywhere-s,
and jingle, so, his spurs upon your stairs.
Ha ha! Hill Billy, you! Outside your house,
behind the pumpkins, sound the irked meows:
bewildered Gigi cats will jump ahead,
inside your car and on your empty head.
You should, thus, paint your house pistachi'o green
cause if you stall before your PC screen
he'll haunt the lines of your poetic calls
and bats will eat your order of spring rolls.
© 10-02-2014, G. Phookan, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
* Contele Dracula = Count Dracula in Romanian
Yesterday I saw a very creepy mouse,
Sneaking right through my front door,
He was wearing tails and a top black hat
And dragging a large suitcase too
When he saw me, he run inside,
And past me he sped so fast,
Into the kitchen he went in,
To a tiny hole, with suitcase and all
I tried everything, to flushed him out,
From the hole just as fast.
I played him music extremely loud;
And even called him on his cell phone
So I ordered him some cheese pizza,
Provolone and jack cheese by the pound,
And placed it close, for him to come out and eat,
But...he grabbed with him in a flash
An email he sent me later on,
In which this certain note,to me he wrote:
"This's Jack,thank you,for giving me more food,
Now I can stay with you, for another three years.
Dorian Petersen Potter
I was at my favourite restaurant and had a lovely meal
If I finished all my food then a pudding was the deal
I’d relished every morsel and was pleased as a Cheshire cat
The dessert menu was on its way, Oh I couldn’t wait for that
The waitress bought the menus and I rubbed my hands with glee
Oh sticky toffee pudding, now that’s the one for me
She came to take the order – we had waited as you do
She finally turned to me and said ‘oh Madam what can I get you’
Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply
I didn’t realise what I’d said till I saw the tears form in her eye
I went as red as a beetroot and the others began to laugh
At my spoonerism which turned into a complete gaffe
The pudding it came quickly but I couldn’t wait to leave
I choked on every mouthful and my stomach it did heave
So please take notice of my error on this horrendous day
If you order sticky toffee pudding be careful what you say!
This is a true experience! The waitress was a student at the school I work at - I was so pleased when she went to university - I have never ordered this dessert since!
Submitted to Richard's Beginnings Matter Contest - It had taken a month of badgering by my friend jenny Brewer to even pluck up courage to post my poems - I wondered how my humour would be appreciated!
~awarded 2nd place~
I have tracked my New Year's Resolutions
over the years these are my fantastic results.
2011: I will try to be more attentive to Lauren.
2012: I will pay more attention to what's her name...ah...Lori...I know I'm close.
2013: I will try for reconciliation with Lo.
2014: I will try to be more attentive to Carol.
2011: I will walk 35,000 steps a day this year.
2012: I will definitely start my walking routine this year at 10,000 steps a day.
2013: I will walk once a week.
2014: I will try to drive past a gym at least once a week.
2008: I will not stare at women's cleavage .
2009: I will cut down the amount of time I stare at women's cleavage.
2010: I will stop being so obvious when I stare at women's cleavage.
2011: I will attempt to stop getting caught staring at women's cleavage.
2012: I will stop increasing the time I spend staring at women's cleavage.
2013: I will seek professional help as directed by the courts.
2014: I will try to stop starring at the female prison guards cleavage.
2011: I will not let my siblings push me around.
2012: I will stick up for myself with at least one of my siblings.
2013: I will not let my siblings bullying depress me.
2014: I will talk to Dr. Potter and the group about my siblings.
2008: I will read Clarissa this year all 1534 pages.
2009: I did not read Clarissa I will read Varney The Vampire all 866 pages.
2010: I will read the first 50 pages of Varney The Vampire this year.
2011: I will read some articles in the newspaper this year.
2012: I will try and finish the comics section this year.
2013: I will read one strip in the cartoon section this year.
2014: I will read the fortune cookie thingy the next time I have Chinese Food.
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest Name: New Year's Resolution
I am dating a young woman and we are deeply in love. However, no matter what I do sexually, she never achieves orgasm so we decided to ask a sex therapist for advice. The therapist listened to our story and suggested the following;
"Hire a strapping young man and while the two of you are making love have the young man wave a towel over you, as though he is fanning you both. Make sure he is totally naked and she can see his manhood as he fans you both with the towel. That will help your wife fantasize, and should bring on a full-blown orgasm."
We went home and followed the therapist's advice. We hired a handsome young man and he stripped off and enthusiastically waved a towel over us both as we made love. But it didn't help and still my lover was unsatisfied and frustrated.
Perplexed, we went back to the therapist "Okay" he says, "let's try it reversed. Have the young man make love to your wife and you wave the towel over them."
Once again, we followed the advice. The young man got into bed with my lover and I waved the towel. The young man really worked with great enthusiasm and my lover soon had an enormous, room-shaking, screaming, orgasm.
Smiling, I dropped the towel, tapped the young man on the shoulder and said to him triumphantly...."NOW THAT'S how you wave a towel, son!!"
It’s not enough to have a Dragon plus his penguins and pigeons, too?
Darn it! I had a limit, until a cute Cuddling Cricket found my shoe.
He was just a little baby, who saw the pigeons and decided to hide.
Now, he won’t let go of my pants leg; he’s definitely along for the ride.
The first time I saw him, I Eeekk’ed and I jumped, yep, about to pounce.
But at my response he sighed, and slumped, and he began to cry, at once!
At first I couldn’t believe it, so I pulled out my magnifying glass.
What I found were soulful eyes, and a face, so very cute, but sad.
So now when I stand, A Cuddling Cricket, comes along for the ride.
Yeah, he’s now part of the family… Well, of course! Sigh! I replied…
He sleeps in a cute little plastic bug box, with a matchbox for a bed.
But it’s hard to explain, to others found, in my life, which have fled.
I bring a magnifying glass, so they can see him bow so proper and nice.
But carrying my Cuddling Cricket around, does have a certain price!
Food stores aren’t very understanding, and restaurants, Not At All! Truly!
But the paparazzi seem to understand a Cuddling Cricket, completely!
He does have his own type of novelty as he carries around his blankie!
And he’s just a baby, who needs a Mom, and of course, his little binkie!
Honestly, I’m not kidding! There’ve been a few, strange turns, in my life.
But, if I have Trolls and Dragon, then a Cuddling Cricket seems, so right!
He wondered if his verse was made for fools
and cretins that splish-splash alongside whales
composing dull sonnets was chased by bulls
- by elegant giraffes and racing snails.
Amid the chickens in his country cot,
while gulping bourbon the pig-farmer writes
his scribble verse turns to an artless blot
and straight he gulps one more for his insights
Oh, detrimental muse of his confused,
absconding inspiration that evades
his talent which was alcohol-abused,
and like the content of each bottle, fades:
......Inspiring advent of a healthy burp
made pigs and chickens to comment "superb"!
© G. V. 06-27-2013 All rights reserved
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Contest Name: The Lazy Contest
HORSE FROM MARS
It came from the sky, a gray silver stallion.
I looked up high, and I have also seen a dragon.
With so many things in this universe.
I'm on stand-by with a camera in my purse.
Who would have known I'd be the first to spot a PEGASUS.
The town folks wave hi every time I walk my hippopotamus.
I enjoy showing everyone, my pictures of a flying horse.
I don't see why they call a DOCTOR every time I call the TASK FORCE
I think they are jealous over all the things I've seen.
They act all crazy since I sighted a LEPRECHAUN when I was fourteen.
No one ever believed me when I saw an army of dragonflies.
They have a name for me "the boy who See's too much in the skies!"
I don't know why they can't see what I see.
For all I know they are all experiments under Alien Technology.
They don't believe me how I got this magic MEDALLION.
It was a friendly gift from the silver stallion.
I also have many pictures of a UNICORN.
We became best-friends when he gave me a piece of its magic horn.
We sat together while he drank from the lake.
We enjoyed talking, --talking about how U.F.O.'s are fake.
Why can't they see? The day I fell off a boat, I got rescued by a MERMAID!
Who would have known a mermaid swim around with first-aid.
I also remember the day I followed a LEPRECHAUNS.
We were playing under the rainbow having so much fun.
When I told my doctor about all the things I've seen.
He locked me in a DUNGEON, thinking I was the ALIEN QUEEN.
I begged and I told him I don't believe in any type of alien.
Too bad the master of this dungeon came from another region.
In a way he looks like that one SILVER STALLION from Mars.
The first creature I'd seen the day I fell off the monkey bars.
I have this picture of this horse of course.
JUST help me out of this white-jacket!!! ;-)
If you want to see the coolest picture of a flying horse.
(A small collaboration with: B-Boy)
re-post for ~FUNNY CONTEST
The rain began with striking thunder noise,
the falling drops were pelting on his head;
his bomber's jacket, after shave and poise
anticipated just, her tall spikes' tread.
Her stumbling light steps were quick and graced;
- oh, sightly maid, that fondling drops wet,
he smiles; she smiles, so rarified and laced,
her acrobatic charm and walking fret.
Her wet, Venusian bends enthrall his brain;
those curvatures must be explored and felt,
his tips will tangle in her moistened mane,
her feminine perfume and garter belt!
Athletic is his run upon the quay,
as lightning strikes around, of Zeus wrath,
in style he throws his rendezvous bouquet,
her manicured lithe fingers long to catch!
A flash demolishes the rose bouquet,
another strikes upon his buckle's brass;
resembling Nureyev at ballet
with Dame Fonteyn, he proves his dancing class!
She joins his dance beneath November's rain;
thus, he forebodes her lustful flames and cries,
uncorking the Dom Pérignon champagne,
receives a third flash on his manly prize.
Embraced they dance beneath the rain and kiss
Mille-feuille creamed her finger tips, will fuss
to tease his buds, while deponent his lips
descend to slowly taste her "Charlotte Russe".
© 11-24-2013, All Rights Reserved
(humorous-erotic-light poetry-Iambic pentameter)
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
Contest Name: Charlotte's Scorchers: Erotic/Sensual Poetry
The mille-feuille is a creamy pastry of French origin.
* Charlotte Russe:
Charlotte Russe is a cold dessert of Bavarian cream set
in a mold lined with ladyfingers.
I thought I could wow them with poems from earth
Poems of joy and humor, poems extolling it’s worth
So I laid out poems from Michael, Gail, and me
From Andrea, David, Gwen, and Ilene
From PD, Harry, Mandy, and Chris
From Jack, Craig, Cyndi, and Liz…
For I was sure once they read our beautiful works
They would embrace us and love our humanly quirks!
So last night I taped them all over my skin
Knowing they’d find them if they took me again…
When I woke up, they were gone and I had a reply:
“We enjoyed reading those poems last night,
And thanks for the names of the earthlings too -
We have many more experiments to do!”
For Michael's boomerang...send your poem for a ride contest
I once heard of a fisher Luciano,
who sang bass as he played on his piano.
Once he fished and cast his line
by mistake hooked his behind
since that day, when he plays he sings soprano.
How many syllables.com
11, 11, 7, 7, 11
Sponsor Roy Jerden
Limericks Clean and Clever
It’s always a good practice when living on a farm,
To have a family of cats living in the barn
They always keep the rats and mice at bay and furnish humor too –
Wherever you find kittens there’s usually a laugh or two.
Now, I remember one time, I was out there milking cows,
When I noticed three young kittens, out and on the prowl.
One, a fine young tomcat, was really acting brave
And I wondered if he faced some fear just how he would behave.
Skillfully I squeezed and threw some milk across his face –
He winced a bit, then licked his lips – he knew he’d found the place.
We played around awhile and soon the playing stalled
When he stopped and took a minute to answer nature’s call.
He didn’t know it but he backed himself up to a fresh cow pad
He grunted; then had the best little poop a kitten ever had.
He turned around to cover it; then began the fun.
He knew what he saw lying there was more than he had done.
He arched his back, let out a scream and broke into a run.
I thought, at first, it might have been something I had done.
But soon it was no mystery what scared that little cat.
There was the giant pile of poop I couldn’t help laughing at.
This kitten was the alpha kitten of the litter
Who ultimately proved to me that he was no quitter.
So, when the time came to find him a name…
Well ….. I just called him……”Fraidy”
Written By John Posey
Auntie Matilda is a dancing fool.
She took lessons at a discount dance school.
When she does the hippity hop,
even babies beg her to stop;
but Matilda’s dancing makes old men drool.
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.
head to toe
between the buns
the Christmas runs
he has the flu
he'll give it to you
Santa should have
washed his hands
Santa needs to
change his plans
two bags this year
One for vomit
and one for cheer
in spite of this blight
Merry Christmas to all
to all a good night
Contest: Jerry's "What's Up With Santa"
(This poem was inspired by my friend's grandma who said, and I quote, "You can hug anyone you want to." I dedicate it to all the sweetie poets who give "hugs.")
You can hug anyone you want to.
It's something everyone can do.
(There are many reactions from one act.
Proceed with caution so you don't get smacked.)
You can hug any way you like.
Keep it loose, or grab 'em tight.
Hug with a manly guttural noise,
or hug like a lady with grace and poise.
Sometimes just one hand will do.
Hug the way that best suits you.
Hug to ward off tears and sorrow.
Hug like you're going to die tomorrow.
Hug sister Suzy. Hug uncle Al.
Hug anyone to make a new pal.
Hug 'em big. Hug 'em small.
Hug 'em one. Hug 'em all.
Hug 'em in a group or two by two,
so the pleasure's not all about you.
Hug with a spin. Even make it an art.
Just make sure you hug with your heart.
It's as simple as a shoulder shrug.
Everybody could use a hug.
You can hug anyone you want to.
Watch your back, cuz I might hug you.
This is really kind of a sad story
But please sit yourself down
For the words I'm going to bestow upon you
Will make you feel your watching a drunken clown
As I bow to gracefully greet you
My silly hat suddenly slips from my head
As I look to the ground and try to focus on it
I feel as if I should have stayed home in bed
Bending over I slowly reach for it
Then feel my face suddenly kissing the ground
Now the happy smile that I painted on my face
Has been smeared into a big ugly frown
Standing back up and trying to gather myself
I slowly begin to reach into my empty hat
But the dove that was supposed to be hidden in there
Is no longer where it should be at
So I reach to my sleeve for some flowers
Only to notice they are no longer there
I happen to pull out some fine ladies undies
To my amazement I think,what a nice pair
Then I reach to my other sleeve for something
Though so afraid of what it might be
I pull out a picture of my drunken self standing
In a photo box by a bar,casually taking a pee
In such embarassment I then begin to stumble
These big floppy shoes are too heavy for me today
I then reach into my pocket to find this here poem
Leaving me wonder,how will I to pay off my bar tab this way
Danny Boy Kearley:1-14-13
Not at all a true story..Ha,ha...
Just some silly words from my head(Hic-up)
I have a friend by the name of Tim,
He keeps in shape when frequents the gym.
His Kelly green Mustang he drove
And smack'd it into a cove.
The witches got him and ate one of his limbs!
In the middle of the night,
When the moon shines bright,
A creature stirs with a terrible bite,
And his name is Spoonfang.
This vampire with a spoony face,
Has developed quite the taste,
For creatures of the pudding race,
Has the greedy Spoonfang.
So when the stars through dark clouds peek,
Into the kitchen he will creep,
And a tasty snack he’ll sneak,
Will the crafty Spoonfang.
Mousse and trifle, cake of cheese,
Ice-cream left in the deep freeze,
He’s had a bite of each of these,
Has the naughty Spoonfang.
But tonight he’s set his eyes,
Not on mother’s tasty pies,
But on Gran’s birthday surprise,
A gateau all for Spoonfang.
And so he creeps along the floor,
Tip-toes to the kitchen door,
But someone else is there before,
The bold and daring Spoonfang.
Count Spatula! The greatest Pudding Vampire of them all!
Both the vampires get a fright,
Their screams echo through the night,
And someone switches on the light,
On Spatula and Spoonfang.
Mother tuts and shakes her head,
Sends son and father back to bed,
Neither vampire has been fed,
Not Spatula nor Spoonfang.
Maybe there’s a little Pudding vampire in all of us!
I am the world's first selfie poem,
Held aloft by the world's first selfie poem stick,
A look-at-me wordsmith pic,
Here I am fluttering beside Tower Bridge.
So here I pose on the left bank;
Here I'm by the Eiffel Tower,
Here I selfie seductively next to the shower.
Ignore the bidet -
Admire my framed parchment hanging above a plastic flower
Here I am analysed by a poet I barely know,
Here I repose at a jazz festival amid falling snow;
Fractal flake dew blushes my paper skin,
Ink suggestively oozing, blotting,
Have I been crying or exercising?
Here I am tender and damp,
Here I am sunbathing, drying beneath a lava lamp,
My words florescent and glowing,
Quite becoming, a little knowing.
Do my words look big in this?
Are my right words in the wrong order
a hit or a miss?
Am I a PUA verse,
Or a try-hard blow-hard piece of doggerel, cursed?
Here I'm a selfie poem looking for love,
Not a one-night-stand performance poem only read once,
Then abandoned, carelessly tossed away, orphaned on the street,
Clasped by a refuse collector with his selfie poem collecting stick,
To be recycled, reincarnated, cared for, repaired..?
(for more of my humorous poetry go to: http://sukispangles.blogspot.com)
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 ?”
-Intellect with a Brush-
-A Rough Night-
-Shorter Is Sweeter-
-When A Question Mark Comes In Handy-
-When The Power Goes Out-
Oh, no! It's happening again,
When I went to open my e-mail
So much garbage I found there,what a pain
And to my dismay knew I was getting nailed.
Everyday I get so much spam e-mail,
To give me a headache without fail,
They sneak on me, like a fatal disease,
And try to bring me, all the way down, to my knees.
Eh, Buster! What's this with your stupid e-mail?
You give me nightmares like some horror tale,
I erased it, but the next day three more copies came,
Eh! You better stop that now! that this is not a game.
Your whole attitude really sucks,
I can't believe the things you do for a buck.
Don't you have better things to do too?
Than pestering and screwing people, like you do.
Eh, buster! I know sometimes things are bad,
But, why,do you to make it worse by making me also mad?
And what's this about me helping you with some money,
Do you really think? that I am that dim or brained-dead?
All your e-mail tactics really amazed me,
You want me to… what did you say, again?
Eh, buster, I won't do that,not in a million years!
So I want you to know that all your trouble is in vain.
I am so happy when I see my friends' e-mails,
That's one of the best things that everyday I still get,
But, what's my horror when I see them buried by trash,
No! I don't need to lose any weight, because I am still fit.
Oh no!My server is telling me they've stopped my email,
Eh, you buster!is all your fault, for sending me trash,
And now I have to delete it all in the next hour or two,
Eh punk,! You better don't mess up with me anymore here.
What did you say about me? About getting some prozac,
Who says, I am depressed? And my liver is okay and I don't take pills,
What did you say now? That you have something for my boobs to grow
Eh Buster! I don't need that!or to grow anything in that "place” neither.
Eh, you! You're so lucky I can't really get you,
You're making my life online, sometimes a hell,
And I don't want to buy any of your blue,or pink pills,
As for "those pictures" you can show them to somebody else Mel.
I am so tired of getting spammed and jammed, and it's you to blame
I'd would like to get only emails from my friends,
My poor baby (my pc) is taking such a beat and gets sick too,
Eh, buster!Your behavior is a shame! And this's not a game.
I'm about to lose it with you, and you're making me sick too,
Stop sending me all those silly offers than don't work but just fail,
Eh, buster, you'll see, one of these days, I'll get rid of you,
Then, you won't get me anymore, or invade, ever my email.
Dorian Petersen Potter
this noisy head i live in
it just never quiets down
theres some motherf#@ker screaming at two am
about some unpaid bills or parking tickets
and some other idiot going on and on about some girl that left
somebody is allways throwing trash out in the common area
little bits of some ancient relationship
small parts of some old mystery
just want to tell em all ''will you all please shut up"
stop that godawful freakin racket
some fool on the roof shouting poetry just when your drifting off to sleep
another idiot in the basement throwing monkey wrenches in the works
always somebody causing some kind of ruckus
just want to scream
"can we PLEASE get some peace and quiet for five minuets"
this crazy head i live in
i want to move
to some nice quiet country house
where you never hear a sound
peaceful with birds chirping
where i can get some rest
not this confounded noisy head i live in
not this apartment building of lunatics i call a mind
Shhhh…I say to myself
as I watch your naked dance silhouetted by the firewood!
Ooooh….baby that’s it right there
I know you're gonna feel so good!
Sssss….oh come here
and give it to me like only you could!
Mmmmm….I can’t wait to taste
you like Little Red Riding Hood!
Uhhhh…I lower you onto my lips
just like you knew I should!
Oouch…The heat is too much
once again you are misunderstood!
Fffff…You are way too hot; I’m warned to cool you off first,
my weakness is withstood!
It finally happens from all those gasps;
sweet surrender now has us as one.
Get your minds out the gutter.
While eating a slice of pizza I burnt my tongue!
~GOTCHA...LOL...YES SOUPERS I DO HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOR~
~I HOPE THIS POEM DISPELS THAT RUMOR~
~MY MIND IS SIMPLY TWISTED WORDS JUST GIVE ME THE BENDS~
~I HOPE I MADE YOU SMILE FOR THAT IS WHAT THIS MESSAGE SENDS~
~PEACE LOVE AND SOUL~
~:) ROGER :) ~
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
You know we’re very poor, of that we have certainly, never denied.
Then the ‘Obama-I-don’t-Care’ gave us another whammy, Yes, indeed! Oh My!
Now, it’s Peanut butter we will have for supper, and even that we’ll spread thin.
And the little birdies we gave a cup of bird seed, occasionally, when we dared…
Well, this morning they got a handfull of Fruit Loops, and they were really stale!
With the sugar they have in galore, now birdies are doing cartwheels at my door.
All that crazy energy, they’re acting just like my kids. Hey! Is that my old phone?
They’re texting wildly! Not watching where they go! Hey! There’s a tree! Oh No!
Some are doing cartwheels… While others are staggering back and forth!
But bird seeds not an option, under Obamas new plan, now! Don’t you know!
We ate it all last week, on our free cheese, from the Food Pantry, Not! A! Joke!
He was supposed to make it affordable, now he put food… WAY out the door!
Hey! We WERE the poor ones! Now we’re worse, as he runs away! By Darn!
OOOPPPS! Maybe Fruit Loops weren’t such a good idea, after all, I surmise!
The Dirty Birdies, are walking upside down, in circles, saying they want more!
If only they had hands! I’d get out my camera, but I hocked it, for the food store!
We had good insurance before the ‘Obama-I-Don’t-Care’! But Now it’s gone…
And our small paycheck was cut in half! So I stopped my cable!… Well, Darn!
Hubby walks miles to work, in the snow, backwards, no shoes, uphill! It’s true!
Excuse me! I have to go! For it’s off to the Food Pantry, with others I am bound!
I’d impeach that silly idiot! But I’d rather, he had to eat, just like us, at our house!
Hey! Maybe that explains his crazy actions… Take his Fruit Loops away, By Gosh!
And when you’re done, make sure he uses the same ‘Obama-I-Don’t-Care’… As us!
Then take away that raise from Congress… to fill the Food Pantries… Yea! I SAY!
When you’re done! Remember to vote Them ALL OUT! For what they have done today!
Then send them Dumpster Diving with me… Because they’ll need to learn the art!
Darn! What Now? Oh Oh! Those little Dirty Birdies… Have learned how to fart!
3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison
High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies
Lemon yellow coated walls,
Like their smiles
Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.
Courtesy laughter in snob’s octave
Their heads twitching side to side,
Left to right to left
An equilibrium facing assault charges against self
They slow dance to cello dreams
And E minor dividends
Two-step monotone, sway
Against platinum lacquer foundations
But, it was then.
These same socialites,
Made of recycled candle wax
And rubberized, hedge-fund confidence,
Began to stare longingly at the party host’s 70 inch plasma TV
Proudly imported from China
“Attention uptight snobs of Mecca!
The city zoo has imploded!
The monkeys revolted!
The zebras were tired of being racially profiled!
Run for your LIV…!”
And before the reporter’s frightened inner child could finish’s his clause,
An elephant crashes into the decadent room
Filled with Crisp linen scents of Febreze & judgmental fear
It stares at the socialites,
Laughing heartedly as it playfully stomps away into constellation’s onyx night
As tears waterfall from the snobs’ sobbing eye sockets
As if they just listened to another Celine Dion song
The real newsflash
Metaphors played hooky today
©Drake J. Eszes
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