Lounging licking leaping
Prancing pouncing peeking
Corners closets crouching
Tail twirling twitching
Sniffing sensing sneezing
Hissing huffing hunting
Pretty purring preening
Curiosity kitty killing
Nine long lives living
"I can’t find the words I want to say! “
Under the moonbeam and sparkling scattered stardust,
I can feel the dew, which surpasses through the night.
As I speak to you in tongue, this stale flavor becomes overdone.
A taste of what is behind them luscious ludicrous lips.
I finally ask!
“Do you not feel what I feel?
Can you not feel my heart hesitating and holding hectically?
Addressed with attach anticipation on your side!
It is my hesitation, to answer with, “Please?”
The dwelling night disappears, underneath my deepen darken days,
In which makes every day, another night to come.
The wondering and whining worsens a little more.
I ache for seconds more, than my mind begins to mend.
The mornings keep approaching fast, the silences breaks!
Shattered scattered splattered words, finally released.
You start to nurture up around your notable noble nearsighted eyes.
For I have starved, just about all I can take.
Master of this crying slave…
“Your perception burns, the prescription, of persuasive deception.”
Your inacceptable improper intention cannot heal me now!
Leaving an awkward awareness feel, which lingers to the lustiness’, lost inside of me.
With a wallow with a swallow, soaping and spiting the sight of you.
Meanwhile your thoughts focus on the painful pulsating pleasure.
You will unleash on me…
For leaving all the crummy crumbling crumbs under our silver satin sheets.
I will be smacking and snaking surrendering and yielding, yearning at your will.
Please Master Can I have another, Cracker in bed~~ ?
Poem by: Mr. Ronald Watson
Sep. 13, 2012
My Poetry on PoetrySoup
Stinking thinking/ it leads to drinking./
What moisten the soul without an inkling?/
Unto making a wild left turn /while the right signal light were blinking./
Within a mild mix of rice, hops, and barley,
Since/ it is too much laugher at a karaoke party./
How Elvis sounds like,/ a broken Bob Marley?/
Now it’s as if,/ inhibitions are lowed/
Frozen in time/ and slipping far out of control./
As intuitions of minds does loathe,/ as such weariness echoes for tomorrow./
Yet,/ a stinking breath that smells just as death/ and it's where all funky asses dwells./
Though/ all hung over /and unjustified to flinging heavy heads into that porcelain king,/
Even this is a sight for red sore eyed Kings!/
It is an aftermath of ravishing through them royal purple cloth bags./
So/ afraid to admit that shallowness slowly drags!/
When,a sense of clarity which will just admit it.
That stinking thinking is difficult to kick, but
One day at a time, it is the only way to shine, or get fixed.
Thank youMy Poetry on PoetrySoup
Surly Sally slipped and lost a flip flop
at a hearty party in a bungalow with Billy.
while dancing and prancing to hip hop
whirling and twirling and spinning silly.
Can you reverse and remember the flop she flipped?
Well it ludicrously landed in the party punch bowl.
Nobody noticed while they slurped and sipped
and the dancers dipped and ripped and rolled.
They dipped, danced, pranced and laughed,
pirouetted, and sweated,
tipped and turned till totally daft.
Beer and booze abetted.
The next night they stayed sober and soloed somber.
Crashing and complaining Billy’s head hung,
both believed they’d been belted by a bomber.
Surly Sally swore she felt like dung on a rung!
Let this be a lurid logical lesson,
to those who think it’s only fun and frolick to abuse booze,
Or you too could be confessin’
And for lack of the light of this litany you’re liable to lose!
An answer to a challenge for John Freeman’s Alliteration contest
by my poetry friend, Gwendolen Rix.
A pig in peplum and pearls
under a pergola twirls.
Pendulous petunias sway
while percussion plays.
Whispering spring breezes,
a tickle in my nose, i sneezes.
Garrulous girls gather
Glorious and giddy
Giggling and gossiping
Geared up endearingly
Go out in groovy nights
Getting glacial but gay
Girls giving grief to guys
Syllables 42. Counted on www.howmanysyllables.com
April 27, 2014
Dr. Ram Mehta
"12 Days of Christmas Craves"
On the twelfth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
12 twinkling tiaras
Eleven emerald elephants
Ten Tiffany trinkets
Nine naughty negligees
Eight echoing elves
Seven sequined stars
Six sexy singers
Five fake fingernails s s s
Four furry foxes
Three tingling tamborines
And peach tree in pail via e-mails s s s.
*For P.D.'S 12 Days of Christmas.
*Written by: Linda-Marie "Sweetheart".
telling tendrils twine
a lovers loop of longing
until finally touching
a shimmering swine
swirling and slick
hard to get
a tangible tableau set with
tasty taters and tomaters
touching my tongue with a tang
belligerent battles belittle
brains badly, but burlesque
beauty is a buoyant business
slight, shimmering, serene, silky, subdued, specks, swayed, strayed, staggered, shyly, drowning, desires delicated, pious, purety!
Labor day holiday is laughingly laborious
Pack a punch of partying
On one only lonely playful day
Tonight the trio sets the timepiece to
alarm again in the am another
Work and school worry with the rules day
Sponsor: John Freeman