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Funny Art Poems | Funny Poems About Art

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

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Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Chicken Cot UFO

Chicken Cot UFO

It crossed the gloaming skies above the roofs,
in awe we followed then, its jazzy course;
mysterious would be the incensed spoofs
this ireful ship, upon us, would enforce.

..We said! Abominable was the ship
that traced its gaudy eights in air with hum;
predestined to avenge our ego trip,
atrocious poulets, would not succumb.

The chicken soldiers were a frightful troop
in pink-pistachio uniforms with spots,
that insolent, bombarded us with moop,
to hit our heads that were devoid of thoughts.

In order to placate the chicken troop,
some started to recite their verse to skies;
confronting that attacking chicken group,
- bird poems they opposed to battle cries.

The angry war-birds listened to the verse,
that was composed by stunned, exposed confreres,
their cackle was bemocking and adverse,
- upon their heads they wore rouge voluperes.

This myth reflected what would happen if
extraterrestrial cots invaded Earth,
relentless chicken-birds in martial tiff
would moop upon some artists of top worth.

© 12/11/2013, G. Venetopoulos

moop = Matter Out Of Place

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Attention: WORD NERDS--------- The Eight Parts of Speech

---------------------- "Word Nerds" (like me)...
************Please Have Fun & Read VERY Closely:)***********

now and again
a word 
sneakily obscure
approaches the fog in me
screams its name 
apropos adverbs appear
precarious adjectives
slick little nouns
caught hiding 
beyond babbling brooks
sent to exile
defiling crooks
"pro"fessional nouns
beneath eight parts of speech
pre'fixed subjects
elusive predicates
slithering suffix'ation
turn-ing key
through holes
freeing vocabulary
within prison walls
pen bars 
filled in the past 
like Job's tedious job 
of siphoning
homographs from heteronyms 

words never mind...
they wind the mind
in the wind...

Details | Free verse | |

My Sudoku Life

And I walk
across numerical figments
speaking hyperbole dialect to their imaginations.

Numb, blocky gaps
whisper invitation to secret club.

Enticing my stature
to belong
to become exponent’s side-kick.

So they can welcome me with open arms.

Coating my digits with inoperable tumors
double-knotted in hot pink laced bow
and baby-breath scent.

They even left a Walmart Rollback smiley face sticker
with crack residue on right cheek
and a comic-style bubble caption, “welcome home puppet”.


This is exactly how Mother 1 told me it would be.

Kinda like marriage,
but less detail-oriented.

But, I could never fit in.

For I am neither positive
nor negative
about their (cult) ural ways.

Timing would always be off.

An arm from the clock that suffered a stroke at Midnight…

They’d never understand,
how they’d alter this unevenly, odd numerical figment.

For they’ll just calculate,
my sum with rusty protractor.

This Zero, into a fraction...

© Drake J. Eszes

Details | Limerick | |

Poetry Destryer Vs Gareth James (round 3)

For who is this poetry destroyer
A cop, but who else would employ her?
As she spies no end
No poet, she pretends
Vanilla ice in leopard skin fur.

You ask If I want mommies hug
wouldn’t that be nice, lovely and snug
You just want to hold me
Under that great oak tree
And kiss me on your picnic rug

You want the vultures to enjoy
My sweet flesh, is that your ploy?
Wanting to be them
Eyeing up my sweet gem
Tell the truth, you just want a toy boy 

Well our future together would be bright
Injets, pens and cartridges in sight
You’d color me in
Goodness what a sin
As I would always do the best write

Hang up your gloves as your are weak
You are also classed as an antique
A low blow I know
Don’t cry, don’t go
You can come back with a new technique.

If I don’t hear from the poetry cop 
I will know I have come out on top
Good bye little girl
Give us one more twirl
Now, this should be the final full stop (.)!

P.D, this is the first one ive done. Took me a while. Very good fun though. I kind of limit’s 
the write.

Details | Rhyme | |

My Fair Maiden

I called upon yonder window That was up to high for me to be For my maiden gracefully sleeps there In her bed,beside the sea I asked her to come hither For her beautiful face I yearned to see Twas yawning in the morning dew As she slowly came to the window for me To my amazement came forth a ragged wench Whos hair was as raged as the sea With eyes that were burnt as nightposts To bloodshot and squinty to even see For this was not my fair maiden? Whos beauty would forever be But a drunken harlot who came hither That she spent the night with instead of me My heart now broken to pieces Wondering how could this tragedy be? For my maiden now sleeps with a harlot? Without the love that she once gave to me? My mind was now enraged So I dashed for the wrestling sea With thoughts of drowning this useless body That's no longer good enough for my maiden to see With water just over waist height And a large wave about to crash over me I heard a calling from yonder window Twas my beautiful maiden as I turned to see Her beautiful eyes in such distress Her beautiful hair flowing so care free Twas the beauty of my fair maiden That I had called upon yonder window to see For the thoughts that raced through my mind Evidently,weren't truely what happend to be For it was her promiscuous sister Who had come from the other side of the sea My heart now rebuilt with a sigh of love A large wave suddenly crashes over me The last thing I saw was my fair maiden As my lifeless body is carried out by the sea

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 | Haiku | |

It is now

Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust 
for things start to be.

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 | Quatrain | |


Why is it poetry, is a like dirty word and talked of in undertones?
It’s like a naughty postcard, more flesh than there are bones.
Poets tend to deny their art, “I’m not a poet, I’m a rhym-er”
Come on you lot get stuck in don’t be a poetry two-timer.

After a glass of alcohol some may admit-“I like a little verse”
“But no I m not into poetry…” It’s like a speech they did rehearse.
Now poems I’m getting good at, but famous poets I don’t know any
Don’t ask me if I’m a poet, because in wages I don’t earn a penny.

Now rhyme I am not bad at, but at free verse I would stink
As for haiku, senryu, and other forms, I stink I really think…
I listened to some so called poets; decry their art the other day
They denied their art while they listened, to what each other had to say.

Standing there with their poems held high, “I’m not a poet” they all said
Well get down from the microphone and let’s hear a poet instead…
They pass their poems around the table, like some black market currency
Not wanting anyone to see it, but they are at a reading for poetry.

So be loud and proud you poets stand firm for what you believe in
Tell them you are a poet, and just get used to all the teasing
I used to be a shy poet and I write verse with some frivolity
But the definition in my dictionary says “words with a pleasing quality.”

So now I am open to judgement from all of you wonderful poets
You have all commented on my work, but do you really know it?
You all have qualities that scare me, you really seem so clever
So can I finally admit to being a poet, from now on  and forever?	
~GG~ 27/09/2012

Details | Free verse | |

This Poem Stinks So Badly it Doesn't Deserve a Name

This poem stinks.

It doesn't rhyme 
It doesn't do anything 
It has a little alliteration


it will have some

because that's the easiest poetic element to incorporate 
and if it didn't have any poetic elements 
it would not be a poem 
but would be prose with 
carriage returns...

(are carriage returns extinct?)

and that would be dishonest. 

This is not a lying poem. 
That would be oxymoronic. 
It's a stinky poem.

And when I finish writing it 
I'm gonna print it out 
and tear it up 
into little bitty 
teensy weensy pieces 
(if I have enough patience to get that small) 
and flush it down the commode 
so it can join all the other 
excrementally effluential essences

(note the alliteration)

of all the other stuff that stinks 
almost as badly as 
this poem.

Details | Rhyme | |

Walk Softly

I love the way you walk in your stilettos
The clickety click sound of your heels 
The seductive sway of your hips 
And the luring gaze that appeals

But when you walk softy
That is what I love the best
As your stilettos cover new territories 
Across my bony chest

Oh the view my Soupies the view
Of man’s weakness I do stare
But never trust a woman in stilettos
As your bit lay unattended and bare.


 I am the Mad Poet. For Debbie Guzzi.  (I never enter contests to win.)

Details | Free verse | |

My Love I'm not Cheating

My love...let me explain this situation,
I had no intentions of cheating on you.
I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.
You saw me with her and it meant nothing,
I just held her for a moment in my hand.

Your skin glows like the moons reflection on water, 
She looked anorexic sick...and pale green before vomiting.
Your scent’s like liquid caramel whenever you move.
She smelt like salty...sweat on a hot day.

My yearning heart throbs to your sloshing voice, 
And I salivate to the sound of your name.
The evening flutters like butterfly wings.
I am calmed by your taste that I carry into, 
The twilight of my soul and hold dear to my heart. 

I’m filled with hope, may I dry your condensation tears,
That steadily stream down your plastic face?
I didn’t mean to make you love.

As my taste is satisfied, it reminds me 
Of your moistened contents when I first met you.
In the hush of night, hearing you psss... turns me on,
My taste...buds leap to my mouth‘s palate. 

I wait in the moonlight for your secret 23 flavors, 
So that we may merge as one, liquid to stomach.
In the search of glorious satisfaction, 
Of having my life...moistened by your touch.

Please believe me...she means nothing to me.
I just held her in my hand for a moment,
I’m loyal to you with all my heart and soul,
My lips never touched hers, I promise.

I would never switch to Mountain Dew.
I’m in love with you and only you,
Satisfy my life with your
I longed to hold you in my hand, Dr. Pepper...come here let me kiss you.
I'm in love with your cool and refreshing taste.........ahhh.

Details | Rhyme | |

What a Way to Go

Of course it would involve making love
If I had to choose the way that I would die
Fornicating until my heart gives out
Is something I might like to try

The mortician might have a job to do
In trying to fix the smile stuck on my face
And the cause of death on the certificate
Might result in a little disgrace

But alas, my heart seems to last much longer
Than the other required part for this act
But I am willing to keep on giving it a try
And on that you can bet as a fact

Written for the "Die A Fun Death" contest.

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 | Lyric | |

A Piece Of Lace

I watched you walk by yesterday, and yes again you turned and looked away
You never give me the time of day, and you're always looking sad and grey
A small piece of lace from your pink dress, is all that's left of you and me
Wish I could take back yesterday, when I went astray and set you free
I wish I could find the words to say, instead of making you look away
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

I know that I still need your love, because my heart is always feeling blue
And I guess I'll never be the same, for playing around and being untrue
You gotta know this isn't what I wanted, cause now I'm always on my knees
But I can see how you like your freedom, of being with him and not with me
But baby a twist of fate's what tore us apart, and placed this look upon my face
Oh! it's still funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

A piece of lace from your pink dress, keeps putting me down won't let me rest
And these cloudy skies are back today, holding my heart and soul at bay
I pray you come and take this lace, and wipe these tears from my face
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

All those things that you used to do, is what made me fall in love with you
You gave me your all once upon a time, but like a fool I up and flew
And the things I went and said that day, made you fade and drift away
I never shoulda treated you that way, cause baby I need you here today
The sun keeps hiding behind the clouds, and all I do is sit and cry
And this piece of lace holds my heart at bay, I don't know...maybe it's a sign

A piece of lace from your pink dress, keeps putting me down won't let me rest
And these cloudy skies are back today, holding my heart and soul at bay
I pray you come and take this lace, and wipe these tears from my face
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

Details | Lyric | |

You Won't Tell Them How You Lied

Tonight it feels like, the end of the world
Tonight you showed me, you were never my girl
I wonder do you know, what my heart is doing
Well girl it's breaking in two, since you've gone

Go ahead tell those lies, to all your friends
Go ahead tell them, what a big fool i've been
I wonder will you tell them, you have a heart of stone
Or will you call them, and joke about me on the phone

Well be sure to tell them, how you broke my heart
And how funny it was, when I set down and cried
Tell them how, you tore my world apart
'Cause I know, you won't tell them how you lied

You're gonna have to be careful, when you're drinking
You're gonna have to be sober, when you're bragging
You'll have to learn to shut your mouth, when your wasted
Or everyone will no your a liar, and how your mind is twisted

Well be sure you tell them, how you broke my heart
And how funny it was, when I set down and cried
And tell them how, you tore my world apart
'Cause girl I know, you won't tell them how you lied

Details | Free verse | |

number 10.)
Appropriations will be cost effective only when mass production is labeled'for 
esthetic use only'.
number 9).
All committee decisions must be based on my own and no one elses.
The 'sleek new modern' must be based on Baroque precepts that stem from 
facistic-anarchical individualistic expression over the state.
The media is to be tightly controlled based on my novel
There is no number 6.
number 5).
The deliniation of taste will be non linear.
number 4).
I will be awash with cash I now don't have.
number 3).
Teenage angst will be programmed into everyone well into their eighties.
number 2).
There may be a number 2 in a parallel universe.
And the number one result When Artists Finally take over the World is........

Details | I do not know? | |

Starless Night: The Art Of Giving (Rhyme Incorporated) part 2

Thinking of O, Ms. Jill Martin was in her solitude “Quietly…breathing”
That, she just waved her hand greeting April Lewis “Without Speaking”
I spied humorist Donald Meikle, writing a “Note to a Lady in Waiting”

Let’s party! exclaimed silent Sami Al-Khalili, but not “Only In Winter”
That’s a real cool idea, and I said, how about in “The Field Of Summer”
Dame Marcyle Beer offered her place, called “Welcome To Fort Beer”

A rising star Taryn Melville proudly breezed in: saying “I Am From…”
But, party guy Anthony Slauson showed us his “Fingers of Freedom” 
Leaving noble Alyssa Finley’s young mind fixated in “Dreams Come”

A free verse expert JeanMarie Marchese of Homosassa, uttered “Slow”
Let snow lover Linda Smith tell us first her “Footprints In The Snow”
Indeed, we’ve our time to introduce ourselves, before “The Cockcrow”

Sweet Elaine George arrived, when the night still had a “Tender Heart” 
With a special gift, for Raquel Nicholson, ‘cos she has “a broken heart”
I learned that Big John Tanaskow did not wish to go “Back At the Start”

The party made poetic Mark Hansen expressed himself, in “Cloud Nine”
Perhaps he had consumed much of shy type Nicola Steel’s “Plumy Wine”
For he was too excited, to meet a bright Seema Ali, on a “Poetry Online”

Before the party was over, Juanita Ganir, sprung from her “Sacred Well”
And, old Londoner Matt Doe spoke, of his mighty “Showdown In Hell”
To a sexy Tamiviolet Manchas, but, she xoxoxo urged him, “Don’t Tell”

Many thanks, to photographer William Jones, for his “Living In Color”
A souvenir that reflects my own plea to “Make Me Whole, Once More”
A plea to everyone, to all friends, to remember that “My Name Is Thor”

Details | Free verse | |


Pretty princesses
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Very beautiful
Just like you!

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Best Hearts With Strawberry Jam On

                                   There are many different hearts
                                              Hearts in love
                                        A heart that is happy
                                  Hearts that jumps in your chest
                                          A heart that weeps
                                 Broken hearts, we have all heard of
                                        Hearts suffering in pain
                               Sweet and delicious chocolate hearts
                            Hearts showing us where the toilet door is
                              Hearts that are red or pink in our diary
                                    Hearts may look cute and small
                                Those I like best is the waffle hearts
                                        with strawberry jam on

                          *  *       *  * 
                        *      *   *      *
                        *       * *       *
                         *       *       *   
                           *           *
                             *       *
                               *   *
                                * *             

A-L Andresen

Details | Rhyme | |

Red Bull


Beautiful Coffee spree
Close your eyes and fell high like a tree
Nothing beats the sugar in my energy
I can't live my life caffeine free
Somebody stop me!!!!!


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Blank Verse Rhyme

Blank Verse Rhyme

The master said “create blank verse in lines of ten”.
Form five Iambic feet without a rhyme.
“These five Iambic feet you must achieve”.
The verse will have a rhythm you can hear,
when studied closely this will be revealed.

For, lines of blank verse rhyming discontents
the master. “Do it over, take all night”!
The lines of blank verse sing a little song,
each syllable, each rhyme, you’ll hear them ring!
You’ll sing the tune of verses blank and pure.

And now I keep up with this blank verse trick,
I hear its tick ten syllables per line.
It rhymes so soft; I have it mastered now,
so naturally it falls right from my pen.
Oh, where will this blank verse rhyme find an end?

Yet, twenty lines of syllables came out
much faster still than I had thought they should.
I love each rhyme, the timing so precise,
I hope it pleased the eye and ear. I turned
it in, it came back very clearly signed


-Tiffany R-2009

Details | Rhyme | |

A witches halloween

As the slaving sun sets on a tiring day, 
the moon arrives and shines the clouded darkness away, 
little brats--i mean kids--run out to the streets, 
yelling and screaming as they run amok through the town, 
smiles on their faces; only when their delicious 
sweets are taken away, do they frown, 
doorbell to doorbell they go, 
tossing candy around to and fro, 
the hour draws near the time of the wicked witch,
Okay children, run along home, out of the darkness, 
out of every cemetery, out of every ditch, 
no one wants to be the victim of the evil, and wicked witch. 
on this All Hallows Eve, 
she calls from her grave, 
wanting to live forever, and find her immortal mister, 
but she fails every time, 
because she can't ever get rid of her annoying, 
blond-haired, dimwitted sister.

Details | Free verse | |

Important Safety Information

Like all prescription Coulrophobias, CLOWNS may increase the chance of heart disease 
or risk factors for it, such as high blood pressure of when clowns are seen for long 

CLOWNS should not be seen right before or after certain heart surgeries.

Serious skin reactions or stomach and intestine problems such as colourful bleeding and 
humorous ulcers, can occur without warning and may cause animal balloons. Elderly 
patients and those taking cotton candy are at increased risk for stomach bleeding and 

Tell your doctor if you have: a history of passing out at the circus, fleeing from mascots 
or kidney and liver problems. CLOWNS should not be seen in late pregnancy.

Do not see CLOWNS if you’ve had an asthma attack, hives or other allergic reactions to 
bad magic tricks or any other Coulrophobia medicine or drugs called red nose.

Life threatening allergic reactions can occur with CLOWNS. Get help right way if you’ve 
had swelling of the face or trouble breathing.

Prescription CLOWNS should be seen exactly as prescribed at the lowest dose possible 
and for the shortest time needed.

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
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
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 | Light Poetry | |

My Telephone

Winter nights, the darkness comes quick
Key in door, to an empty house
Jacket falls fast right on the floor
I stare at the stand, at the telephone for sure

There she sits, alone, unmoving
No blinking light
No message at all
From a lovers voice or even a call from the mall

The ritual is the same, night after night
I pick up the phone, yes dial tone is there
I check the wires, all attached with great care
Its not broken, same as this morning

I confess, yes I stare at the phone over there

The phone is a functioning, I am assured
I call the weather line, yes a test but I was bored
They tell me is all sunny up over yonder
So no one calls me, of this I must ponder

I confess yes I stare, at the dark phone sitting there

Maybe the answering system parts are malfunctioning
Maybe she really did some exotic oh calling
Oh what I am saying, she’s out to the ball
While I look at telephone, alone in the hall

I confess yes I stare, I stare and stare

So another night, outside shines the bright city lights
I open the door to the darkness in fright
For oh my god, I see a blinking light
My heart beats in excitement, this is surely the night

I stare at a ringing telephone

Oh my what a delight!!!!!!!!

Wrong number

Details | Acrostic | |

Easter EGG, Abecedarian: with egg shape-

                       April Aroma...
                     Beckons Beauty.
                   Come Children!!!....
                 Daisies Daffodil.........
                Fun Filled Freedom.......
                  Giddy Giggly Games...
                    How ya' Hangin'???
                       Just Jolly Joey!

              HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!!!!

Details | Rhyme | |

The Da Vinci Mode

                                  Uncouth, unschooled in art, 
                                          that's what you'll say of me,
                                  You know, I've tried so hard, 
                                          but I still have to see
                                  da Vinci's Mona Lisa's mythic, 
                                          mystic smile
                                  bewitching folks allegedly 
                                          even from a mile.

                                  It looks to me she parts 
                                          her lips so daintily
                                  to let a drunken hiccup out 
                                          so gracefully,
                                  or stop a vulgar burp, 
                                  or hide those nicotine-blackened 
                                          teeth artfully.

                                  But honestly, nothing in her 
                                          mouth's symmetry
                                  remotely resembles a smiling 
                                  perhaps she's toothless, some 
                                          dental deformity,
                                  believe you me, I took up 

Details | Limerick | |

A Whale of a Tale

When the call of the Lord came to Jonah,
“set out for the great land of Nineveh!”
he was angry inside,
and decided to hide,
on a Tarshish bound ship leaving Joppa.

Then the Lord sent a great wind on the sea,
ne’er a more violent storm could there be,
there on destiny’s brink,
the ship threatened to sink,
while, old Jonah, was below deck asleep.

Surely, each sailor’s heart fainted with fear,
as the ship they were unable to steer.
“Wake up, Jonah!”  they cried,
“get thee quickly topside,
and fervently beg your God to draw near!”

Now, Jonah knew that this storm was for him,
as in his heart he remembered his sin,
he thought he was sunk,
when they gave him the dunk,
and had to choose whether to sink or to swim.

As soon as Jonah met up with the ocean,
Both the winds and the waves ceased commotion,
then along came a whale,
and old Jonah grew pale,
as it swallowed him up in one motion!

Three long days in that big fish he stayed,
vowing never again would he stray,
relieved not to be dead,
and with kelp on his head,
onto dry land, our dear Jonah was sprayed!

Please, allow me, now this moral to mention,
that when the Lord God gives thee direction,
you must not delay,
set out right away,
His good judgment you must never question.

Should by chance, you hear God’s voice compelling,
“ head thee out to Bangladesh or New Delhi,”
best get on the right boat,
and pray that it floats,
lest you end up kelp covered and smelly!

Details | Rhyme | |

She Done Me Wrong

Every time I turn the radio on I hear a feller's plaintive song,
About his achin' heart and how his woman done him wrong!
How they once held each other close beneath the harvest moon;
Now, he sits alone caressin' a beer at Cudahey's Diner and Saloon!

He found his woman hangin' out in honky-tonks at the edge of town,
Consortin' with the local rabble tossin' whiskey sours down!
Never mind that she caught him with Hildebrun at Clyde's Greasy Spoon!
Now, he sits alone caressin' a beer at Cudahey's Diner and Saloon!

His woman tells him to stop his gamblin' at the Pot O' Gold Casino,
And if he doesn't stop and toe the line, she's headin' for a split in Reno!
He wonders where his charm has gone that once made her swoon.
Now, he sits alone caressin' a beer at Cudahey's Diner and Saloon!

He feels a pang of guilt for not providin' the kids with decent shoes,
And blowin' the grocery money on the horses, cigarettes and booze!
But can't a feller have a little fun without her ragin' like a typhoon?
Now, he sits alone caressin' a beer at Cudahey's Diner and Saloon!

He stops at Cudahey's after work and drinks until they douse the light.
He cries on Bubba the barkeep's shoulder unloadin' on him every night.
He feels as if his woman thrust through his heart a very sharp harpoon!
Now, he sits alone caressin' a beer at Cudahey's Diner and Saloon!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Placed No. 3 in Paula Swanson's "Play Me A Cheatin' Song" Contest - May 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Poetic Robbery

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION

Details | Rhyme | |

When a Monster Comes to Visit

It’s midnight and your sleeping
When someone knocks upon your door
Who could be there at this hour?
No one’s come this late before

You grab your robe and slippers
And shuffle across the floor
All the while you are thinking
Who’s that knocking at my door?

As you reach the door you hesitate
You don’t know who’s outside
It could be a thief or mugger
Should I run or should I hide?

Then the knock comes even louder
Your heart is pounding in your chest
Sweat is dripping off your forehead
And you can’t catch your breath

So you peek out through a curtain
And can’t believe your eyes
There’s a monster starring at you
With red and glowing eyes

And then you see him smile
As he motions toward your door
He wants to come inside
But what on earth for

Maybe he’s just hungry
He might want a late night snack
If I feed him and I’m nice
Will he keep coming back

So you open the door a little
Not much but just a crack
And your heart jumps from your chest
When you see what’s looking back

He’s ten foot tall and hairy
From his head down to his toes
His eyes are red and glowing
And he says his name is, “ROSE!”

My big hairy monster
That came knocking at my door
Isn’t all that scary
Not to me not anymore

He’s not a he at all
He’s a girl you see
And all she wants is cookies
Cookies and hot tea

So we sat at the table
And talked till after four
Then Rose said, “thank you oh so much”
And I said, “come back again for more”

So when a monster comes to visit
Make some cookies and hot tea
I know she’s big a scary
But Rose is sweet to me

Details | Ballade | |

An Ellice Island - In search of KindRed Soul

Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of 
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul 
at this season.

Equatorial island exploring its amazed 
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake 
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted 
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around 
charming moon.
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next 

Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my 
auspicious goal.
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma 
upcoming meet.

Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled 
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of 
romantic dictionary.
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.

At event of recreation, campfire were 
Nobody around us, private moments 
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again 
Hand in hand danced with the soothing 
romantic theme,
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her 
fragranced cream.
Expecting the light around us to be dim.

The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand 
She looked too pretty in her gold lame 
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are 
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!

Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.

Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white 
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel 
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout 
life in this lovely weather.

Will be your shadow, because your pain 
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a 
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry 
me, my Kindred Soul?

Details | Light Poetry | |

Dear Santa

Santa, I do confess
I feel a little bit strange
A middle aged man sitting on your knee
Whispering into your ear, my grandest wish
Let us both hope people do not get the wrong idea here
I am at my wits end Dear Santa
All I want for Christmas
Is for her to call me
So that I may here her voice
Like a musical saga
A symphony of  Celtic dreams
The honey that flows deep into my heart
The sweetness that grows in my soul

Am I demanding too much?
Of this earthly world
That I, demand heavenly wishes
That I dream in colors unreal
That I cry for things that seem the impossible
The North Pole and all its promise
Oh but I must dream, dream or die

No more dreams
Is death for sure
Let me not be murdered
By a phone that rings not

Dear Santa

I am disappointed, no poetry memberships, no phone calls in the night from lovers
No mistletoe even in me dreams, Gaelic winds blow cold over me heart
Id ask for a train set, but the way things are going you’d give me a train wreck
Bloody hell on you Santa, you must be busy helping nice people, cheers anyways

Details | Haiku | |

Alarm cat


matty meows with
  a rooster at  6 a.m.
       but, no snooze button

Details | Light Poetry | |

A poem about apples with a title longer than the poem itself

Fruit for thought!

Details | Lyric | |

If History Was Food Part 2

If history was food part 2

Details | Clerihew | |

A Humpty Dumpty Verse

A Humpty Dumpty man 
Became a couple, then a tribe;
And now, we know
The Humpty Dumpty people.

At first, a Humpty Dumpty verse
My only universe
But now, because the rhyme
We live in Humpty Dumpty`s Time.

At first, it  was no rhythm 
When verses drumming their feet
But now, we know
This song became a hit.

Details | Limerick | |


Clip it on and don't think twice
Clip it on cuz it looks nice.
Clip it on so you know where it is at.
Clip it on maybe to a hat.
Clip it on so it does not fall off.
Clip it on so your pet don't runaway.
Clip it on so it stays in place.
Clip it on in outer space.
Clip it on every day.
Clip it on around the world.

Details | Couplet | |

The Age Of Love

Let’s go to bed my darling girl,
He grabbed her by the hand and they did a quick twirl.

I fancy you right now so come with me,
His love was growing, that she could see.

Come my sweet one, let’s go and make love
I am ready for you now, my sweet turtle dove.

Wait my darling, just wait a little while 
I need time to get ready, you know my style.

You go up and I will follow you
And then you know what we can do.

He ran excited up the stairs, 
It was his birthday in an hour, and he wanted to share.

His lust was growing, his legs were pumping
She followed him, her heart loudly thumping.

Ready for a night of passion, his cheeks a faint colour of rouge
And a mound under the quilt, he thought was really quite huge.

She reached out, to climb over him
And watched as his smile turned to a grin.

Oh no you stop there, thats where I want you
This is what I have planned for us to do.

His eyes rolled backwards, as she thought in his ecstasy 
But his heart had given out, that much she could see.

Never mind he died while he was having such fun
It is a shame, she said - he was only just 91.

Die a "Fun "death

Details | Limerick | |

New Year's Resolution inspired by John Cameron Swayze

Author's Note:  If you have never seen the advertising contributions of John Cameron Swayze, take a moment to watch a few of his videos.  Then, enjoy this limerick (which in combination with the videos) provides some interesting inspiration for the new year.  

We suggest a vagina's for sex
And hope the possessor expects
To take a licking
And keep on ticking
Over and over like a Timex 

Details | Light Poetry | |


My grandma's strawberry jelly i love to eat it and fill my belly. It's so sweet it will make you pucker o ya it is better then smucker's. She stayed up all day and night to make it just right so i could have some when i go to stay with her tomorrow night.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

CHANGED MY Underwear,------- and My Name

change my name 
fairly often, I suppose

change my clothes 
area codes
and Imma' damn gypsy, ya' see

keep it fresh ta' death
speck of blood
ketchup on my attire

got more rhymes 
than I got grey hairs
that's an effing lot
because i got my share

digg a 
hot-fire piece of passionate verse
those are 
rare to find

if  only poets would 
unleash the fury 
instead of 
holding back
what's really 
on their mind...

I must say...
the library, 
the internet, 
the etc. etc...
would be a less stinky place...
AND, maybe 
I'd keep my name, and sever ties with 
underwear's elastic,
and just go 
APE-Spit Spastic!~

Details | Light Poetry | |

An Abstract footle


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Not Your Rag Doll Any More


Baby, your time is running out…
  No - I won't play in your house anymore
My life as your ragdoll - is coming to an end
  Your kind of vapid love left me so forlorn 

My heart was torn and frayed 
  By being tossed around by you
I was but a puppet - in your cruel selfish hands
  Played with- then tossed  aside
Like some old, gnarly shoe 

I was once new and shiny
  But you used me - then threw me to the ground
I had bright red curls, with lips painted cherry red
  And a happy beautiful smile
But the way you treated me
  Was like some game of 'lost and found' 

My insides had turned to cotton
  Spilling from me - like tidal pools of tears
My smile was painted on
  My threads bare and worn
No longer could I feel -I lost so much of me
So many lost and wasted years 

Once I didn’t have a backbone
  It was made of useless twine
Easily dragged around by you
  But now I see you for what you are...
A cold heart that has no shine 

Next time you think of coming my way
  Forget it...Just turn right back around
Cuz' you’re not coming in
  My heart won’t be your rag doll any more
You've lost me...but this last joke's on you
  Baby...I'm the one who wins
I'll survive - I don't need a love like yours

Yes, many tears I used to cry
  But -I don't want you back anymore
Just keep walkin' on down that road
  Now I hold my head up high  
My heart has been tranposed
  So- don't come knocking at my door...
To you baby - my door's forever closed


Details | Rhyme | |

The Soup Hall of Fame

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION

Details | Haiku | |

Dime Pieces

beautiful women walking fast in rows of ten March of Dimes, ya' heard

Details | Carpe Diem | |


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 | |

This Is Me

This is me; this is what I do best

Sit me down to write scripts for a film

and I’ll waste your paper and ink

Ask me to speak to an audience about

hard work and I’ll put them to sleep

Put me on stage as a comedian,

and the audience will strangle you for

their money back

Enroll me in a weight-lifting club and

you might be imprisoned for murder

Hire me as a bank teller and you might

arrive at work to meet a very long queue

in front of my counter, not because I’m

providing a very great service but

because I’m in a deep sleep

However, sit me down ones again

behind a beautiful natural scenery with

a paper and pen

That paper and pen will be one day

auctioned for lots of money because

through it was the world’s most inspirational poetry produced

This is me; this is what I do best.

Details | Acrostic | |

Not Good in a Bed but Fine up Against a Wall/ E.Roosevelt

O rigin, the beginning, the mostest, bestest, most beauteous
H ave you ever been so very full of the symbolic

M essage of the flower kingdom
Y ou just can’t stand to see, or smell, another

G od forsaken picker pushing
O range, red, white, pink
D andy, handy, trite ,

A nalog for the joy and pain;

D ripping from the plucked
A nd pieced heart of
M an and his foil woman.
N ever again will I accept a 

R ose as anything thing
O f consequence 
S ince even an
E vil heart can buy a rose.

Details | Haiku | |

Parking Ticket

Friends told a secret
Put the ticket on the shield
No more new tickets
I did not wait long
To realize the secret advice
When I got ticket
I did what they said
I left my car with ticket
Glad to know the trick
Dark when I came back
I saw the ticket gave birth
I do l!#*ve my friends

Details | Rhyme | |

Chemical reactions exclusive

If you don’t know chemistry
Here’s some on reactions
It may not be much
But it’s still a good fraction
I don’t know where to start
So I’ll begin with this
An element plus element yield compound is synthesis
Decomposition is multiple products from a single reactant
Usually formed when energy attacks it
“It” is a compound, just to get it out
It can be replaced, what is that about
It’s about single or double, which are replacements
Any real scientist would concur to this statement
Because of the complexity, my favorite replacement is single
 It’s really easy, if you and chemistry can mingle
One more reaction, so lets take a turn
If oxygen is a reactant, you may have a burn
Combustion is the name 
And it’s known by the flame
Production of heat embarked its fame
A hundred on this project is the grade that I wish
I don’t know where to stop, so I’ll yield like this

Details | Lyric | |

I'm Not the One

I don't believe you
You total bastard
Because I didn't give you any
Because I didn't let you get down with me
You wanna walk around with a frown
Treating me so cold and rude
I ain't a piece of food
You chew on and spit out
I don't give a damn if you pout
You think the thing between your legs makes you a man
Check this out you can have fun with your hand
I'm not the one to be treated like dirt
Go ahead and throw your game to another skirt
So go find that store and pick out your whore
And remember I'm a lady with class
When you lay down with dogs and wake up with fleas
I hope you get a rash on your a!!
But I'm not the one!

Details | Carpe Diem | |


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 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 | Limerick | |

The Further Adventures Of Mr. Laurel And Mr. Hardy.

Stanleys' plane circles wild, fro and aft.
Ollie screamed up: " Throw me a raft!"    Oh Ho Oh Ho Oh Ho Oh Ho.
with gathering gators
I won't be here later
One just gave my drawers a big draft.  OhhhOhhh....

When they opened the gator to see
which intestine poor Ollie might be.
He plops out pratfall
then looks at us all
and smiles: " hm hm hm, I'm still me."

Stanley: " But I thought.. I thought you were eaten..oo whooo whoo whoo..."
Oliver looks at us, shrugs  and throws his arms up.
( Cue music.)
Coo Coo  Coo Coo, Coo Coo 


This is inspired by Miss Carrie Richards, one of the best. 
This Is Another Fine Mess You've Gotten ME Into, Stanley...

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 | |

Sky Rockets In Flight, Unicorn's Delight

The origin of the unicorn begin's in
A time and habitat where we did not live in
In Another Galaxy it could have been in
Or in an unexplored magical dimension

It was a land overflowing with milk and honey
Pure and abundant was it's skillful offspring
Enchanted with a forest that lulls you to sleep
With it's down reaching hum stemming from the trees
The little creatures were cordial and could speak
The streams of life were the preachers of the peace
The fireflies dancing a mild ballet at night
Would arouse even the most dormant soul to sing 
But it was unicorns that governed the land
and so to say put everything under one's wing

A unicorn was considered the horse of the God's
It had the chiseled structure of a steeled spartan
It's horn holstered the power of a lighting rod
Sporting a mane as majestic as a mountain and
When it bucked on its hoofs the earth stood still in awe

They spent years on this planet protecting our spot
Behind the scenes in old men's wars they fought
But it was in the hidden rainbows with gold pots
Where their undisturbed and placid image was copped

Now its unfortunate we do not seem them nowadays
mainly because they did not embark on noah's ark
and all the CO-2 in the atmosphere we sprayed
means their world no longer remains and
Now their remains are just horses with no horns
and no potential to fly, so all they do is eat hay, ride and race
and when they die we just assume to make them into glue
JK! Happy Birthday!
* P.D. Unicorn Poem contest

Details | Rhyme | |

SOUP Spoonin'

Online tonite
looks like 
a whole lotta' spoonin'
goin' on in the "Soup"

nosin' around the comment coral
I see love 
amongst the group

hot Soup!
not shaken
marriage scent in the air
no fakin'

where it leads...
we shall see
I know some 
are dippin' crackers in the "Soup"
but Lawd' knows 

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.

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,
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 | Haiku | |

All About the Music: The Infinite Magic of Lyricism

Pop may be catchy
But not lyrically deep
Case in point: Chris Brown.

(N.B. Poem written after hearing "Don't Wake Me Up")

Details | Rhyme | |

How T Rabbit Got His Name

Their once lived a bunny in the land of Ozark.
He was clever, cool, and funny. Could even hunt in the dark.

One night while hunting small game, he found a ring made of gold.
The ring made him sing and feel incredibly bold.

His voice got so loud he awoke all of the town.
Naked, the bunny panicked and threw on his mom's gown.

People came from all over just to hear his sweet voice.
Then came a dog named Rover, who had a difference of choice!!

Rover threw a sharp stick into the leg of the rabbit.
The ring fell out his pocket and Rover just had to have it!

He knew the ring is why people liked the Bunny's new sound.
But since it was night the ring couldn't be found.

The people dragged off the bunny and helped his leg heel.
Others surrounded poor Rover, chanting loudly out, "KILL!"

"That's one terrific Rabbit!" Stated the king who was short.
So, the bunny was named "T Rabbit!" In their small Ozark court.

The End

Details | Light Poetry | |

Enlightenment of The Kung Poo Master

The Kung Poo Master, he literally, lives the ancient art of Kung Poo.
He senses and knows, before you do, that’s there’s going to be a poo.
Living with depths of concentration: that we can truly, only surmise.
He deals in a life beyond us, though less ethereal, than some guys.

I found him on the Internet, where everything is always, really, true.
For 19.95 he said, he’d solve our problem of the lively problem, poo.
He usually deals with children, who hate their potty buckets, so much.
But, in my case, it’s my roses, the dragon claims to depths renowned.

Now, I offered him my fire retardant suit, in case his plans went south.
But he just bowed his head and looked at me, like I was really nuts.
I hadn’t exactly told him he was dealing with a dragon, at this time.
For whenever, I tried to tell him; more ancient proverbs, left his mouth.

When introduced to the Dragon, a tug of war on proverbs did ensue…
Now at this point, let me remind you that my dragon really, hates to lose.
In the end with teeth a gleam, we were informed in no uncertain terms…
That master or not, the dragon really loved his creative, rosy showy art.

So as the dragon blew smoke smugly, in the Kung Poo master’s face.
The Master lost his cool, and his statuary, peaceful view, of higher grace.
But kicking a snidely dragon in the butt, is really worse, than being cool.
So, it took all day of screaming cuss words from the singed Master Poo…

As our Trolls not so artfully, finally shook him out of our tallest treetop. 
But never fear, he’s still alive, for he fell in an artful pile of dragon poo.
Now I fear the Kung Poo Master’s feelings, were by now a tad bit bruised.
For as I ask him, his next moves, he incredulously, threw me into the poo.

But this was nothing new to me, with a dragon, and a fire retardant suit on…
The idiot Kung Poo Master, then declared we should promptly, wash him off…
Yep, the dragon added insult to injury, as a stream of pee, rained on his parade.
In the end, the Kung Poo Master, didn’t solve anything, but I paid him anyway…

For where can you be so entertained, for so cheaply, in this day and age?
But strangely he left a card, offering Kung Poo lessons, weekly for $19.95.
RIGHT! AS IF! I Think I can do better, myself, now, after this, besides…
My roses’ migraines, aren’t near as bad, as the Kung Poo Master’s, now aspires.

Date 4-26-2013 
For: Enlightenment, Hope, and Harmony Contest

Details | Narrative | |

A Word From Gonzo

Atlantic city had been a haze of slot machines and watred down drinks and loud nightclubs
that often  remendedme what disney land  could have been ifthatdam mouse wasntallowed 
to take over.

Never trust a talking rat.
 I had to go through a hellof a divorce because of it.
Good thing her brother was a lawyer cause  I might have
actully had something left oh well things are overrated like indoor living.
it's hell gettinga good internet connection in a tent.

But enough  time traveling  i had more important issues at hand
like my return and some unpaid parking tickets and that whole 
court case nonsense your place of business  burns down for the fifth time
and people all wanna  get uptight  hey i preffer to moron my lose 
in a casino they said i shoudnt be alone so  im just taking doctors orders.

But i had a deadline and it was almost happy hour the library was gonna be packed.
The subject   true art and  cenorship.
The world around us is totatl chaos so how could you restrict how people expressed 

Heaven forbid little tommy reads a bad word 
while him and and his best friend huff paint  
dear jesus man and i hope they dont play a violent video game.
Sure susan  go  have random sex with guys of fthe internet 
but dont read no cuss word on a poetry wed site 
you just might drop dead where you stand.

Its kinda like running a asylum and pretending that everyone there
isnt totally nuts.
No sir lets ignore the real world cause lord knows people 
cant filp on the tv   and see murder rape fires and war ya gotta 
love kids programing.

You cant restrict art for if it"s all the same cookie cutter stuff.
Then is it truley art or just a pretty dellusion.
Ignore the world and it'll run you over.

Life good bad  traggic is ment to be shared 
the secrets of the soul can rattle in that closet till 
madness breaks that perfect image we put.
but what I know.

Never restrict your mind for you will sufficate the soul.
stay proud and crazy forever 
Dr Gonzo

Details | Rhyme | |

You Little Stinker Devil's Echo

In forest you'll hear squak squak squak
May capture bears play
Or foxes cock-eyed walk walk walk
Down by waters bay

High in trees you'll hear owls owls owls
Just more feathered friends
But I love water fowls fowls fowls
So let's not this end

Miss Hood cried big bad wolf wolf wolf
I just stared and laughed
Seeing deer prints from hoofs hoofs hoofs
Think she's needs skunks bath

As many stanzas as you like.The last 3 words of each 8 syllable line are the same, to create the echo. These can be 1 or 2 syllable words, so long as the line is 8 syllables long. Syllable Count...... etc.
Rhyming Sequence.......a.b.a.b. c.d.c.d. e.f.e.f. etc.

Details | Free verse | |

Homework... What homework?!?

The clock strikes nine. Ink fills the night sky, until the silvery orb in the heavens is the only source of light. 
The clock strikes twelve. Tiny pinpricks of light dot the raven-dark heavens. They shine brightly; as if each was 
trying to outdo the last. I sit. And stare. And wonder. The clock strikes three. I shift and pick up my 
homework. The assignment is a three page essay, due today. Should I do it? Nah... I toss it aside and resume 
my staring of the sky.

Details | Light Poetry | |


she got it 
her cloth fit
very thigh
just right
she like a wheel
she is my love meal
she cover all my needs

Details | Limerick | |


Long ago in Booville lived a Doo
Doo had a friend named Rue-Foo
Rue-Foo was obsessed with candy
But he was never handy
Then Rue-Foo found a mooing Phu-boo

Details | Limerick | |

Slick Limerick

~ They call me the Pondering Poet if there's love to be found, I'll show it with euphony divine under boughs I will shine although once in a blue moon, I'll blow it... ~ A P.D. Contest ___________________________________

Details | Light Poetry | |

A poem about an apple that is sure to disappoint the reader

I see an apple.
There it is.

Details | Light Poetry | |


I got five great aunt's that went to France while in France they learned how to dance. But they were looking for a little romance they met a guy named lance. Who taught them how to dance the all danced with him. They danced so long danced so hard they had to buy new under pants. I still don't know why they went to France my five great aunt's.

Details | Free verse | |

Have You Ever Read

Dedicated to an author by the name of William Golding... Enjoy!!!

~Two boys meet on an island
~~One is skin 'n bones
~~~The other one is chubby

They discover a lagoon~
Ralph teases him by calling~~
him "Piggy" -  how mean!!~~~

Piggy asks him if
There are other people on 
The island with 'em

He has no clue
But this'll answer Piggy's question --
Other boys appear - 
All diverse shapes and sizes
What'll happen next??

You'll see...

Have you ever read The Lord of the Flies?
I recommend it if yah haven't read it yet - I must admit
It's a book full of adult words and it's simply...FASCINATING! - no lies
You should read it - or you'll regret it!

Details | Rhyme | |

Not Sofa King Cool

College Dorm sleeps
Four per room
Keg party 
Too much Boom

Drunk freshman sleeps
Where he falls
Coeds toss him on 
The sofa 
Instead of snooze in
the halls

Sorority girl 
Named him  
“Sofa King Tool”
Now he feels like a Fool
Not Sofa King Cool

Details | Free verse | |

Trespassers will be prosecuted

'Knock, knock' on the door,
But, I won't let you in.
No, no.
The chamber of my heart is closed.
But 'knock, knock' you say.
Oh no!
I am stronger in this position than any other.
A huge 'liquidation' sign hung,
For months and months,
At my window pane.
I gave away everything I had to give,
To you,
To family,
To friends.
Nothing is left here,
Nothing for you,
Nothing for me.
There is no you and me.
My heart is closed.
I sacrificed,
I worked,
I gambled,
I lost.
I am fine.
'Knock, knock' you say.
But my door is closed to you,
Always now.
I won't let you in again.
No. no.
Go away, now.
I have nothing left to give.
The chamber of my heart was looted long ago.
Raised to the ground.
Left empty.
Like a broken down warehouse,
In some sort of insurance scam that went wrong.
Was that it?
Was this all some crazy scheme?
To gather insurance on care?
On love?
To put me in line?
To own everything I have?
Everything I am?
To control me?
Insuring against me,
Then ripping me apart,
Stone by stone,
Day by day.
No, no. 
You can't come in again.
Not you.
Not ever.
Go away.
This fraud went wrong.
I build back up,
Brick by fragile brick.
I put up a wall,
With a sign,
'Private property',
Keep out!
Yet, 'knock, knock',
So, now I say,
'Trespassers will be prosecuted'.
Oh yes.
Come near me again,
I will tear you apart.
I have emotional dynamite,
So much you don't know.
Oh yes.
Come near me again,
I will blow your life apart,
Just as you did mine.
'Knock, knock'?
'Knock, knock'?
You think you have a right to ask?
For anything?
Ever again?
Oh no!
Not now.
Not never.
Test my walls,
If you like.
They are steady.
Knock on the door,
If you like.
I'm not listening.
My chamber's closed,
My heart is not open for business,
Everything went in the recession.
I don't have a thing to my name,
Except ambition.
And drive.
And a whole host of strength.
You can lay siege,
I won't notice.
You can knock,
I won't answer.
No, no,
Not ever again.
You are not welcome.
Oh no!
No more.
Please go.
Spare yourself the trouble,
Of the incessant knocking...

Details | Epitaph | |

Dorian Gray

(Witty Epitaph) Herein lies a man named Dorian Gray He was very young and gay Till many moons one day His own painting did him away. Dorian Petersen Potter Aka ladydp2000 Copyright@2014 September,25,2014

Details | Free verse | |

Poem Within a Poem

To a father there may 
Not be a greater joy than 
A child who emulates
Maybe even idolizes his dad.

With a heart pouring over
With love my youngest boy 
Proudly states, “I have written a poem.”
My heart soars and love overflows …

His next words reconfirm what 
I suspected; he wants to be like dad
He asked me to post it on Poetry Soup.
The next lines are his as I beam …

Kind, nice, Outgoing, and Funny this is
How I live in this strange World. I live
With a funny family always cheering 
me on I go to a big school always
being great I have many friends
Always being Awesome intelligent 
People, I go to a nice church
always being kind I really
like my life in this very strange 

I couldn’t have said it better
Little man.

A collaboration of Dad (60) and 
David (10) Eklund

Details | Free verse | |

Just Dont Rub Me With Your Rubber

Doodle me your funny strokes of frog looking just like hidden Mickey Or your princess that wears a tiara made of a plane triangle Go ahead! Indulge yourself! Fill my sheet with your vertical lines Top them up with diagonals and curves Sketch your favorite part of her body if you wish You can even ask Mr. Crayon to join in Don’t stop scribbling. Keep leaving a mark ‘cause I find your lead sexy. Just don’t rub me with your rubber.
Glenn Sentes For Nette Onclaud's SEXY Contest 02-02-12

Details | Tanka | |

-eye bags and heart madness-

her legs unending she was wearing a mini her crimson red lips his heart pounding rapidly her eye bags slowed his heart rate
*Missy Nikko's "weird" body part of choice eye bags, combined with Carolyn's body part of choice the heart :) * 20/04/2011

Details | Rhyme | |

You Ain't Got No Class

Ma decreed they needed some culture to enhance their sedentary existence.
Pa wasn't all that enthusiastic and offered some very stiff resistance!
Especially when Ma steered him to the city modern art museum.
He would just as soon visit the parish graveyard mausoleum!

Pa was reared a country boy and for cultural matters had very little zest,
But on this occasion he pampered Ma - he knew better than to protest!
Pa's appreciation for art was confined to barns with a Mail Pouch Tobacco ad,
Or gazing at a painting in the local saloon of some woman scantily clad!

His ear for music was satisfied by the honky-tonk gal at the local bar.
He was a poetry aficionado, reading Burma Shave rhymes from his car!
Ma once told him to wear a suit and escort her to her literary club,
But he preferred beer and banter with his pals at the local pub!

He could appreciate Saturday Evening Post covers by Norman Rockwell,
And Grandma Moses' nostalgic and simple scenes he recalled so well,
But the ghastly art he viewed in the modern art museum that day,
Seemed to him to have been crafted by chimpanzees from Mandalay!

The visit to the museum left Ma and Pa extremely cross.
Her attempts to refine him, she admitted, were a total loss.
She beseeched, "At least I wish you'd drink your beer from a glass!
I give up! I do declare Pa! You just ain't got no class!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Haiku | |

rare occurrence

at stop light
rare occurrence
plates in sequence

Details | Free verse | |

Video Game Hero

FYI: I justed wanted to try some onomatopoeia, my first time really using it.

Thump thump thump
My feet upon the stone

Ba-boom Ba-boom Ba-boom
My heart as I run

Clank clank clank
Enemy armor upon the stone

Huff huff huff
Enemy breathing as they run

My blade unsheathed

Goes our swords

Falls his head

Thump thump thump
My feet upon the stone

Ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom
My heart as I run

Goes the princess

Upon my cheek

Da da dun da da dun da da dun
Goes the end credits

Details | Ballad | |


It is...within the tiny things of early morning, that moment breaths alive, it is within the tiny whisperings, that a melodye the very dear and the antelope, play home on the range.

so goes the melodye of heart beat, that plays quietly the songs of soul,

here a rhyme is born of day-light coming so soon, through the early morning eyes of the moon-light, and the starry dreams of twilight's transitioning...

into the light of a love letter written to dawn.

soul to soul conversing, as in this love letter, the letters just join hands with the words and just march across the sky...and at the end of the rainbow, there be plenty of golden time,

way down deep on the inside, the inspired choir, of a bumble bee, or a butterfly, starts to sing, like tiny things that live,

flower to flower,
blossom to bloom,

watered and deeply cared for...

O' Eden.

I say, deep beneath the surface of a wishing well...where the pennies lay,

I wish a sun-rise.

Details | Couplet | |

Life is an Aventurous Squirrel Run

I have my Hubby’s steadfast belief in me.
He loves how my poems are light and airy.
He’ll give me an idea once in a while…
Then he escapes to come back, later to read my new child.

He calls these run-throughs a squirrel run.
For they can take off in directions, yes, any one.
Crazy thoughts become crazier still…
And story time leads to god knows, where they will.

My thinking is kind of like chasing around a tree.
You never know where the end will be.
But somewhere I eventually become truly still.
And that is where my Hubby adds into the trill.

Then the squirrel run begins again…
Light and fluffy and full to the brim.
Each day a new adventure... waits around the bend.
Live it. Love it. Write it... You'll be happier in the end.

Contest: Emotion: Squirrelly and fun   CSEastman

Details | Haiku | |

Turning 40

oh no here it comes
that big barrel that big gun
i will not go yet

Details | Haiku | |

Short Stuff

You can short yourself
You can keep shorting yourself!
You can make it short...

Details | Free verse | |

Love Poem Generator: Megamind

Turned out odd, thought I would share it anyways: 
My Love, Megamind

Your skin glows like the Blueberry, blossoms 
Beautiful as the Blue Bonnet in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your Piano voice 
and leaps like a Bluejay at the whisper of your name, 
The evening ascends in on a great Bluejay wing.
I am calmed by your Glove that I carry i
nto the twilight of Skybeams and hold next to my Hand. 
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of Water. 
As my Heart falls from my Sleeve, 
it reminds me of your River. 
In the hushed, I listen for the last Rushing of the spring.
My heated Lips leaps to my Shoe. 
I wait in the crystal moonlight for your secret Water 
so that we may Smiling as one, Lips to Lips, 
in search of the glorious Blue and spiritual light of love.

Details | Couplet | |

Once Upon a Happenstance

Once upon a happenstance
I gazed, a look, and paused in trance

To dream upon a crystal palace
Her heart aglee and form to chalice

With towers true and field in view
I set a course to give tongue to

I crossed the field - anxiety smote
And walked upon this palace mote

Yet, as I firmed, my heart to pour
She drew the bridge and bolted door

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Wraiths Tale

As a young girl Barbara Ann’s thoughts were given to finding a love so true, 
Then one day she thought that she’d met the man to whom she’d say I do. 

And so she gave her heart away along with her body and soul, 
But when the time came for them to wed her heart had a gapping hole. 

For he had abandoned her at the altar for all the world to view, 
It was there she uttered a curse that was aimed at you know who. 

“If ever he should stay at a place for more than even a single day, 
A fire will burn that place to the ground and send him on his way.” 

Then she raised a knife to her breast and deprived the world of lasting beauty, 
And haunting the man who’d broken her heart became her eternal duty. 

Take heed of this tale all you men who play loose with a woman’s heart, 
Pledge your love and keep it well when e’er pierced by Cupid’s dart.

Details | Free verse | |

Naked holes.

Imagine a life without holes.
An unstable world,a round figure of nothing.
A straight line,smells like ptomaine.
Holes are everywhere,white and black,
polychromatic,pretty and ugly.
Holes that you may fill,other you may not.
They can think,memorize,imagine.
Emotional holes,logical,positional,
in a chessboard,a second before a knight arrives.
Holes in my body,in your body,his or her,
screaming for pleasure,with or without morals.
Living there,breathe,judge the way you treat them.
A hole can kill you,can make you suffer.
They are in brains,in hearts.
In great losses.
When out of nowhere they are born,proud,
captivated eventually,died full of years.
Significant holes,in maps,in history.
They feed on hopes,feelings,aspirations,
organic,inorganic matters.
Holes reborn,only looked at us.

Details | Rhyme | |

Mona Lisa

Mona Lisa has worn that mystical smile on her mug for over 500 years!
Who is this mysterious lady who at us from The Louvre benignly peers?
She had to sit for over four years for the artist to capture that simple pose.
Who she is and what's behind that smile, only Leonardo DaVinci knows!

She ain't the most beautiful woman to come down the pike but what the heck.
Since her genesis in 1503 she wasn't treated all that well during her dicey trek!
She's been mutilated, stolen a time or two and graced Napoleon's sleeping place.
All the while she's borne it with grace with that inane smile upon her face!

Some have said that she's the widowed Duchess of Milan, Isabella of Aragon.
Others have sworn that she's Mona Lisa Gherardini and so it goes on and on!
Signore DaVinci left no specific clues as to the name of this mysterious dame!
Through the centuries men have scratched their skulls trying to seek her name!

Was that frozen smile upon her face to hide teeth that were crooked and stained?
Or was her pose such that her posterior and sacroiliac were slightly strained?
Perhaps her compressed smile implied to Leonardo, "Hurry up and git 'er done!
You're payin' minimum wage and fella, posin' fer posterity ain't all that fun!"

Now hung upon the wall of The Louvre she's worth millions and millions of bucks.
Not bad for an unknown woman from who knows where, but here's the crux:
That beatific smile upon the homely face of Mona Lisa that Leonardo created,
And what she's smiling for will always be debated and pondered unabated!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Tied for 3d Place in Carolyn Devonshire's "Unsolved Mysteries" Contest - Jul 2011

Details | Haiku | |


Creator creates then—BIG bang! creators destroy

Details | Limerick | |

Looking For Good Doctor

From suffering man was now free
His doctor held answer you see
Though doctor will claim
That he’s not the blame
The heart attack came with his fee

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Great Manger Heist

Two brand new manger scenes were donated to our local church, One went on the minister’s desk the other took the organ as its perch. The idea was to provide a scene that was both merciful and mild. But when the organist came to practice on Tuesday night there was no holy child. No babe was laid in the manger meek to receive the gifts from kings, No baby to offer love and light or the joy that the season brings. When a ransom note was found it was circulated through the staff, “Will return the one inch Son of God in exchange for a plastic calf.” What cad could have committed this crime and done this awful deed? Who could have cold heartedly stolen hope from this world of need? “What should we do?” asked the organist to the church’s secretary, “We need to restore the Holy family and calm the heart of Mary.” The secretary looked worried as this news caused her own heart to sink, Now for the first time in many years someone had asked for her to think. The choir director offered up, “Let’s give in, it’s only a plastic cow, I don’t see how giving one calf away could hurt anything anyhow.” “We should not negotiate with terrorist.” Said Sam the custodian, “If we give in to their petty demands our troubles would just begin.” “Then let’s organize a search party to look for the wayward child, We will thwart the plans of this prankster who will forever be reviled.” “What is all of this about?” Asked the minister as he came into the room, The organist told him about the babe and the note of impending doom. “So we’ve decided to work together as a team to bring the baby home, Every square inch of the church will be covered with a fine-toothed comb.” “As a team!” the minister exclaimed, “Well that’s a change long over due, It’s good to see the four of you working together as a single crew.” “It’s been too long since you pulled as one with the goal of finding Christ, I think you’ll find that the rewards are great while solving this baby heist. “Before I send you on your mission let us all join hands in prayer, It’s so wonderful to see you brought together it shows how much you care,” “Let us pray for guidance from the Lord before this search begins,” So they didn’t notice as they bowed that his Mary had given birth to twins. And so he sent his staff into the night to find the newborn King, Then as he returned the baby to the manger he began to sing. He was then struck with inspiration and he added to his plan, And so they found the missing baby in the arms of a fourth wise man.

Details | Light Poetry | |


Too much fun to wear!

Details | I do not know? | |

The Signature

First letters are undulating, bouncy and loopy
Rest are sort of pretty sloppy and crunched together
With a load of smooth diagonal lines that connect all the way
And a squarish circle degenerated into a quick squiggle
It's a sort of scribble and swirl
Legible in the most illegible sense of the word
Looks like I have been testing the flow of ink
A flamboyant mess and a mysteriously intriguing expression of my mood
It is beautifully hideous and reflects on who I am
If you can read it you are an absolute champion

Details | Free verse | |

The Grace To Grow

The Grace To Grow

Through peril in its intact 
We have every reason by which to over react
The Grace to grow;
Many a shoulder to cry inflate the ego

Through our hard stance with fate
We lock our doors & protect out faith
In long lines at the store lest I emplore
Shades of trim left for me to begin

In oscillating ivory towers a man from Mars
The Grace to grow
From a little seed next the full grain blown to harvest once again
We can plant a seed deep enough through troubled waters come among

Shades of gems crimsome with rubbies
The cedar as a way of illumination
Perhaps I'm in need of a break on some long awaited vacation?
The Grace to grow

Details | Ballad | |

The Human,The Demon, And The Angel

The Human,The Demon, And The Angel

I'm the one who must stay
I'm the one who must kill you
I'm the one who must reverse time

I am to die when the new moon is in range
I am the one to be your executioner your taker of life
I am to observer and to take note of everything and of every life

Who are you to say I have no future
I say what I please for I am the bringer of death
I want to help I wish to free you I need to save you

There is no more time for my life 
You never had a life to begin with
She was free until you stole her very being

I am the human who must die
I am the demon who only wants her body for it kill
I am the angel who will take her soul once her body is gone

We are in one body
We are in one mind
We are three trapped by one bond

These times are different then the last 
These times are different then when I was young
These times are different then when the earth was made

Oh how we let this control us
Oh how we take our worlds and live for such granted
Oh how we let who we are put fear in our hearts

I leave this to you
I leave this to you
I leave this to you

We have exceed 
We have flown 
We have drowned
We have died
We have lived
We have made many wonders
We have created a new life
We have done evil deeds
We have done good deeds
We have but to wait for the one day
We have but to wait for our freedom
We have each other 
We have nothing but that
We have nothing but each other and to wait 
We have to wait for freedom

Details | Free verse | |


Hand of power, heart of whimsy, tamer of
mighty rivers. Rivers of initial learning,
nurturer of ancient gardens, gardens in

their fabled beauty hanging yet in utter
freshness in the fecund hearts of poets.
Poet at heart cooped solitary, hostage of

life's fickle fortune. Fortune dreamed
with vanished glories still as green as
tendrils twining. Twining on to memories

heart-held, held while tending patch of
foliage, muttering through graying mustache,
"You're soft muffins, crumbly cookies,

munchies in my white cell circle; circle
stony though surrounds me, I'm still palm tree,
brave, steadfast; that you're not, but bush."

Details | I do not know? | |

Ten Four

who knew
sounds like YOU

bravo romeo
you’re at the hotel
whiskey at the bar
and papas doing well
he played two rounds
and his echo said tell
juliet his sweet
that an oscar cost a mill
....get dressed
almost time for the ball

made a million dollar call

Yankee doodled a candy
November is handy
for remembering
to give our thanks

Fox trotted to the bank
and booked a flight
x-ray vision 
wants to dance tonight

charlie says to victor
“i knew she could hear”
just slow to bet 
she is a sweet 
my dear
i do
i owe you 
one kilo

“horse knows the way
to carry a sleigh so it's
off to the 'hood, we go”

the delta is wet
there are beans 
in a net
and a play...
is what she swings
;) x.wings.

~just for fun

i like to dance

Details | Free verse | |

Glitter World

Glitter World
I see the world as my pearl
My place to take a whirl
And twirl around like a sexy girl
A place where there is little turmoil
My world is place
Where all flags can
Freely unfurl
Where a boy’s hair can curl
Everything’s glitter in my little world.

Details | Free verse | |

the Sunny Day Blues Man

living for the moment
ended life as we knew it 
but i'm just doing whatever
kind of hoping 
for some entertainment 
along the way

a day in the life 
of the sunny day blues man
hands down 
this is the best i ever was
the best i'll ever be
don't you agree

the sunny day blues man
isn't it funny the way news slants
the return of the sunny day blues man
just be happy with what you choose man
Never a better option than a given hand
thank god for the sunny day blues man

hope isn't a measure 
it's just tested time
a clamp of suspense 
when the moments array
an echo of needs 
to balance out 
the ways things seem
is the best you and I 
will ever be
don't you agree

the sunny day blues man
isn't it funny the way news slants
the return of the sunny day blues man
just be happy with what you choose man
Never a better option than a given hand
thank god for the sunny day blues man

at times life seems to cycles 
signals of distress
vanity and cupcakes 
i know, it's a brute mess
but along with the irony 
comes pancakes 
yes, the madness seems to iron me
yet i am still here

the eyes a thinker
life of a fighter
hands of a lighter weight 
when smiles reflected a pinch of hurting
because in punishment
the sunlight just couldn't outreach the curtains
though we take the steps alike
we trespass the worries to vaguely
but it was times like these that made me 
and it's the best i'll ever be

"the things we accept in steps of courage"

Details | Haiku | |

Cry Me A River

at the mouth of cave
aqua insurgent brushstrokes
cry me a river

Details | Dodoitsu | |

How Funky Is Your Chicken (Dodoitsu)

The rooster began to dance
It was raising quite a sweat
Barnyard pals joined in the fun
All funky chickened

Details | Free verse | |

Why Only The Heart May Feel

It strikes me queer,
Why for generations we humans

Have loved with our hearts.

And I ponder why
	Such a revolting organ

Would be paired with such a tremendous task!

Surely it is not the most vital,
	Our mind has already occupied that position.

Its shape is of no suggestive air.
And there are certainly prettier organs…

I say! What prevents us from loving with our kidneys?
What of our lungs?
Surely they gasp for the privilege of feeling.

The stomach is hungry, nay famished for love and 


Our heart alone would be blessed with emotion.
	At least it is definite that the heart may feel selfishness.

For an organ that feels,
It does not seem generous.

I assure you the mind would be more liberal
	When it comes to sharing.

Come to think of it,
The heart is (at most) the most
Organ in the human body.

Perfect for the task.
Enough said.

Details | Haiku | |

Clock Poetry

Time ticks and could trick
Could go places unnoticed 
It can kick and trip

Details | Couplet | |

Scaring Myself

I tiptoe through the darkness as silent as the night,
My ears attuned to any sound, there’s not a soul in sight;

Goosebumps prickle across my skin as panic washes over me,
I hear the slightest noise ahead and I strain my eyes to see;

My uneasy breathing fogs the air as my heart pounds on in dread,
I stand in the black frozen in fear, my feet have turned to lead;

I shiver uncontrollably as I wait in the dark alone,
Terror grips my heart as I prepare to face the unknown;

I’m poised on the balls of my feet ready to bolt into the night,
Then as I’m getting ready to make a dash, my hubby flips on a light!

Details | Clerihew | |


Wladziu Valentino Liberace (May 16, 1919 – February 4, 1987), better known by only 
his last name Liberace was a famous American entertainer and pianist. ...
Wladziu Valentino Liberace
Famous American pianist and entertainer
He was quite the character they say.
Made those ivories talk and he was also quite gay.

*For Catie Lindsey's "You who....Yo, Clerihew" contest

Details | Rhyme | |

Mrs Russo's Art Class

Weird Billy ate the jar of paste
His tongue gagged on the yucky taste.

Then Timmy cut sweet Jenna’s hair,
So she cut his, just to be fair.

Thick wads of wet clay went ‘kersplat!’
As Johnny pelted Hailey’s hat.

Dumb Andy markered Maisy’s face,
Then Maisy knocked him in his place.

While Joey plastered Heather’s sleeve,
Poor Billy looked like he might heave.

Mean Marcus spilled blue paint on Sue-
She squirted him with Elmer’s glue.

Ooops! Sarah splattered Steve with ink;
He finger painted her in pink.

And Sammy smeared his best friend Jay
With goopy papiér maché.

As Christy crayoned ‘round them all,
Poor Billy threw up on the wall!

But while the kids made such a mess,
The teacher did what you can’t guess-

“Class, class, look here,” they heard her say.
“You’ve all been wonderful today!”

“Creative students make me proud!”
Then Mrs. Russo said aloud,

“Your work’s the best I’ve ever seen
In any class I’ve ever been.”

She’d never dreamed they’d decorate
Each other to commemorate

One wild, talented release-
A Jackson Pollock masterpiece!

By Susan Burd ©2012

Details | Rhyme | |

Autumn to Winter

Come October He strokes away the greens To touch mosaic Upon, the now of autumn trees November next And amidst set breeze Leaves of paint chips scatter And from on high, let a harrowing slip sneeze Lastly to December Branches, canvas bare When He's decided... To shake away the dandruff, from right out of His hair

Details | Romanticism | |

More Then Just Lines

I think I've seen you in my dreams, you're matching every description.
Your love is like a drug, I'd kill to fill the prescription.
You give me so much excitement, like when babies are born.
You're the only flower I see that's in this garden of thorns.
You must be Jamaican, because you're Jamaican me crazy.
Let's get a place together and maybe raise up a baby.
A lot of people call me Trav, but you can call me tonight.
You have the most beautiful eyes in the world, just like the stars they shine bright.
If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?
You could make a shy guy try and make a blind man see.
If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.
You've got me floating like a feather, and I want to feel this way forever.
You may think these are just lines, or maybe all the above,
but please read this with your heart, because you're the woman I love.

Details | I do not know? | |


              As the saying goes,an apple a day will keep the doctor away
                                   But what is a worm to do
                               I lie in a apple close to the core
               Ever so often i slither up to my brown bedroom door
                              I stick my head out to peek at the world
                              To my surprise,there's a monster out there
                                     Picking apples real fast
                                I held my breath,i could only gasp
                                     My heart was thumping
                  The apples were bumping in a basket down below
                   A monster reached out and grabbed my home
                    Opened his mouth,of long white teeth
                     Said ,''im hungry'', i need something to eat
                     My heart stood still,i couldn't breath
                     Thought this would be the end of me.

Details | Monorhyme | |


This wordy poet also loves to knit,

Nothing too complex, not even a mitt,

I don’t use a pattern, none that’s legit,

But I can pearl fine, well...just a bit.

Heaven is angora and time to sit,

Then letting my hands just flutter and flit.

Crafting an afghan for my benefit, 

As comfy in my chair as a hobbit, 

I drop stitches and think nothing of it,

Though it’s lopsided, I refuse to quit,

It is lap-wide so at least it will fit,

But my needles don’t move lickety-split,

And there is a detail I did omit:

This was a baby blanket, but, dang-it

my girl’s now in college, studying Lit!

Eventually, might read my obit,

So, to its completion, I will commit,

For I’ll never give up, never submit!

But faults I’ll allow, dawdling I’ll permit,

And, frankly, poetry is the culprit,

Verses entice so lines I retrofit, 

While my yarn grows old and gets in a snit, 

It balls itself up, has a hissy-fit,

Knots itself over this silly knit-wit.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Surgeon

We praise the colorectal surgeon,
Misunderstood and much maligned;
Slaving away in the heart of darkness,
Working where the sun don't shine.

Let's call on the rectal surgeon,
It's a calling we could crave;
Lift up your hands and join us,
Let's all do the finger wave.

When it comes to spreading joy,
There many a sweet techniques,
Some spread joy to all the world,
While others just spread cheeks.

Me thinks the cardiologist,
Needs be the patient’s friend;
But the colorectal surgeon,
Knows he'll get you in the end.

Why do you call a rectal surgeon,
It's one of those mysterious things;
Is it because in that profession,
There are always openings?

When I first met a rectal surgeon,
He didn't quite understand;
I said, "It's nice to meet you,
But do you mind if we don't shake hands.

A doctor he did want to be,
For golf he loved to play;
But this is not quite what he meant,
By eighteen holes a day.

We praise the colorectal surgeon,
Misunderstood and much maligned;
Slaving away in the heart of darkness,
Working where the sun don't shine.

Not mine

Details | Rhyme | |

Romantic Mush

Folks who know me are aware that I seldom write romantic mush.
Such saccharine verse is alien to me and causes me to blush!
But just this once I'll paraphrase some verse upon which you may muse.
Perhaps it'll arouse your curiosity, but as to its source I'll provide no clues!

"Ah!  How beautiful you are, my darling, there is no flaw in you!
My heart begins to pound for you - my head is drenched with dew!
Your breasts are like two fawns - like the twin fawns of a gazelle!
How beautiful you are with your delights that I know so very well!"

"You are as fair as the moon and stars, your smile brightens the dawn!
Your temples are like pomegranate halves my precious sprightly fawn!
Your graceful legs are like jewels, the work of a craftsman's hands!
Thy lilting voice is as melodic as a legion of celestial bands!"

"Your lips are like a lovely ribbon and so lovely is your mouth!
Thy arms that embrace me are like a gentle zephyr from the south!
You have stolen my heart with but one glance from thy limpid eyes!
You are as graceful as the majestic eagle as it soars through pristine skies!"

"You lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my precious bride!
How I long to have you forever more walking at my side!"
'Tis beyond this mortal to write such mush or any like it thereof!
Check out Solomon's Song of Songs for more such lurid tales of love!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Rhyme | |

Online tete-a-tete

I am addicted to online tete-a-tete
Somebody unhook me from this mi-se-ry
Day and night knows no bound
There is only the messenger's sound
Every time I make a grit to be free
The computer peeps to a great degree
Then like a hungry tiger pouncing on his meat
My heart makes my brain to cheat
And the everyday routine of chattering begins
Which commands my fingers to dig in
Hi, Hello, How do you do?
I am fine, thank you, that is all I do
UFF! after a days hard work and spent time
My brain starts to shout that was a crime, crime, crime
Yet there is no will to stop
When will my heart be able to make the drop

Details | I do not know? | |

Wrong With Me

Right! We start out from here, from the first,
Way down there, where we'll stare 'em all down,
All full of unrequieted thirst,
Get lost, like we all just went to town,
Poorly pronounced in some short, sharp burst,
The scene the same brightly burnished brown.

  Ya wanna go all gone wrong with me?
  Get some kicks reading off real strong tea?
  Ya wanna go all gone wrong with me?

Cancelled skies spread as wide-open knees,
Columns like Corinthian leather,
Suitcased mistaken identities,
Closed against destination's weather,
Forget it all,down some anti-freeze,
Delivered from out of the ether.

  Ya wanna go all gone wrong with me?
  That something-something all long to see?
  Ya wanna go all gone wrong with me?

Controls set for the heart of the Sun,
Find ourselves in that lion's den,
Well, Hell! From in there we'd better run!
At least ninety-nine times outta ten,
Getting somewhere's just so much damned fun,
We'll start over, all over again.

  Ya wanna go all gone wrong with me?
  Wanna sing this stupid song with me?
  Ya wanna go all gone wrong with me?

Details | Narrative | |

Memoir: Crashing Women's Studies- Feminists, BEWARE lol

Don't ask me how it happened; I have no clear recollection. I have always had this brazen habit of coming right out and directly asking for whatever I want; I always figured "no!" was the only worst possible outcome, aside from a good cussing, perhaps. Either or both I can handle.

My best friend, who had invited me to this event, wasn't even a speaker; she was just present for class credit and I had nothing better to do so I happily joined her. Her professor was the director, or MC, of the night's festivities and proceedings and Jill introduced us soon after we entered the banquet hall and before the speaking commenced.

I also have this horrid habit of mentioning that I am an artist to anyone of any importance or significance whatsoever, hoping to sound gallant and impressive. I can only surmise that Jill's teacher asked me what kind of artist I was, and I must have boldly stated, with an air of haughty confidence no doubt, that I was a de facto grand poet of the ages. I was only 19 at the time and thought I was Poe! My style was sloppy and unrefined, but I didn't know it yet.

Given that this was a "Women's Studies" organization and all guest speakers that night were, obviously, going to be female, I don't know how I convinced, finagled, schemed, bulled, or mechanized my way into making myself an impromptu speaker as well that evening. It was an "anything goes" type platform, from women reading poetry to short stories, to essays or presenting artwork. I was, I kid you not, the first male to EVER be a speaker at this "Women's Studies" gathering.

Having committed many of my poems to memory, I just quickly jotted down four or five particular favorites, and when it was my time to speak, impertinently stepped right up to the platform, adjusted the microphone, and recited my horrible poetry to a group of...I'm not sure if "feminists" is quite the word for which I am searching. Let's just say that if Gloria Steinem or Gertrude Stein had been in the audience, I might have been yanked off the podium. So there I was, babbling about, having basically crashed this Feminist rally. That I wasn't mauled or had my eyes scratched out can only be attributed to luck, progressive-thinking, guardian Angels or plain ol' polite courtesy. In retrospect, I blanch at the thought of my shameless, unabashed audacity.

I would love to know whether any more males ever took part in anymore of their events, but I guess I'll never know and can only hope that little bit of history I made that night remains intact. True story.

Details | Rhyme | |

First Date Frights

A date can be exciting
When you meet up the first time
She waits for his arrival
And her heart beat starts to climb

He takes her to the cinema
Chivalry opens the door
'Ladies first' he speaks with his eyes
As her heart beat races more

He purchases two tickets
For the snacks she says, "I'll pay"
He looks at her as it's his treat
and says to her "no way"

"I chose a scary movie
To give us both a fright
If you get scared do not worry
Just don't be scared to hold me tight"

They both enter the screening room
She's thinking he's quite sweet
He asks and gives her the choice
To pick which ever seat

He lifts the middle arm rest
To give a tiny hug
And puts his arm around her
In order to get snug

A scene or two she cannot look
And hides her eyes against his chest
She settles down but stays right there
Against his warmth she starts to rest

The film is scaring everyone
And the audience is frantic
But they just both enjoy their company
As they're both a hopeless romantic.

Details | Rhyme | |

real story

Once upon a time there was a son and his mum
He wanted to marry and mother agreed in a glum
But asked her sunny to show her a photo 
Of  that heart fighter from Rome or Kyoto
The son brought three photos 
Three creature of God
Three pearls from ocean,
Three petals from roses. 
And told that one is whom he dreams
 Whole nights losing sleep
Described his feelings so pure and deep
Look here my dear, look here my maa
 One is too close to my heart and others so far.
I wonder could you find
Which of them is my sweet heart
Do Mums know sons test
As somewhere I heard.
Mum looked at photo
For several minutes
And said: “she is!”
The sun was so shocked –
“How clever mum is?!”
“How did you guess about it
They all bonny and fair
If ones eyes are like diamonds
Second is milky white
Third is waved hair”.
How you could find my lover
From the only attempt
So easy and clear 
As in her brow was a stamp?
Did you like her eyelids what makes me mad?
Or liked her chicks as liked you dad?
“NO” said a mother with disgruntled face:
“When I look at this girl I am nervous”


Details | Nonet | |

The Nonet

The poetic form of the nonet
Makes one count syllables, and yet
Flows from one line to the next
While making sense of text,
Each line reducing
A terse

Details | Limerick | |

Ma Dropping It Like Its Hot (Limerick)

Ms. Potter caught her daughter Lollipop
There dancing in the grocer’s parking lot
And scolded her profusely
‘Til someone cranked up “Juicy”…
Ms. Potter stopped and dropped it like it’s hot

How soon some forget that they were once young too. If the power of dance is ones 
passion it is not the worst vice a child can have, in fact it is good exercise.  One 

Details | Free verse | |

the painting

half asleep 
half awake
I am looking 

at a an attractive 
young women 
on  a print on my wall 
of a famous painting 

imagining the painter 
Signor Leonardo 
saying  to Ms. Lisa
with a sensuous accent

come on 
give me 
a little smile

just a little more
a teeny bit more



Details | Free verse | |

Fishing Briefs

A clown caught
a tuna in the middle
of a pond in a park!

He says that the black
tuna was a very rare
species in the water world

With evidence collected
it is purported 
that the tuna was colorless!

It is I Teddy,
reporting in Sun City.

Details | Rhyme | |

All Things White

                               The White Charger
White is the steed that gallops, sparks fly from his mane 
The rider reaches out to my heart, passion burning as a flame
Entwined in hope, flames burn high, passion ever ascending 
The white charger gallops by now, passion assuaged and descending.

                               My Mind Is Blank
My mind is blank a sheet of nothing white as virgin snow
Where is it now I am searching lost not knowing where to go?
White and blank no thought at all what am I to do
I know I’ll get my pencil out and draw a picture of you…

                               White Wedding 
Pure white the ghostly figure, as it floats around the room
It stops and smiles sardonically, at the soon to be groom.
I see you are taking a wife; she once was to have been mine
Well my friend be careful, you soon may have to pay life’s fine...

The ghostly shape now pressed close, to the sweating groom
“I don’t know what you are talking about- please leave my room.”
Oh you will find out soon enough, after the vows are said...
Then the black widow bride, will find a reason for you to be dead

Her only wish is a wedding, a wedding all in white
A husband she does not desire, you will find that out tonight
Don’t drink the wine or take your fill, from the wedding glass
Believe you me it’s not worth the risk, this is what has come to pass.

The whiteness of her veil hides the stone heart of a killer
The black hearted murderess, to her this is the thriller...
To take a groom so young and strong, his heart he wants to give
She will take it out of you, so be warned now - run to live.

Well that’s his story and he was sticking to it as he left the church at great speed…
© 3/10/2102

3 Different poems For  the  Whiteness Contest.

Details | Limerick | |

Dorian Gray


There was a man called Dorian Gray
Who tried hard not to get old and gray 
So a swap he just did
Portrait wrinkles did rid 
Till his rotten flesh ate it away. 

Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 

September,10, 2014

Details | Light Poetry | |


Walking with you all the way, because I missed you night and day. 
Holding your hand to help guide the way, in the light of the moon? 
Sunshine brightening our lives whispering ways, hold my hand, 
I want to be with you, up lift your soul in oh so many crazes. 
Hold you in my arms and remembering when our lives took us, 
Each to two separate places, what am I to do now? Eyes so clear, 
Pull your likeness... 
Closer to me now and cling to you at closed in spaces? 
Whisper in your ear that I have no grievances to spare, so come to me, 
Come to me now, I want you to be here, love me now, I have a life to share. 
The effects are rollin over our bodies, like it can’t decide, 
Caught in between here and taking you out to be the ride of your life. 

Details | Rhyme | |

The Ten Million Dollar Chinese Bowl

The Ten Million Dollar Chinese Bowl

By Elton Camp

Asian art collectors were extraordinary excited
A rare Chinese imperial ceramic bowl ignited

Asia's fine art market has exploded last decade
It was expected for the bowl millions to be paid

From the Northern Song Dynasty it's pale green
And is the only one of its type that's ever seen

Museums & individuals are thrilled over the piece
So astronomically the price is likely to increase

Buyer will be one who about money doesn't care
Perhaps a mainland Chinese or western billionaire

The auctioneer held the bowl up and asked for cash
Out of his hand it plunged with a sickening crash

Tiny fragments were scattered all over the floor
And it was worth ten million bucks no more

Details | Free verse | |


I am alive 
and ready to take on the day
and whatever 
may come my way

the time between the beats
with my pace
and the expression on my face

the time of day
is divided  
into twenty four hours
with many beats

how many beats 
does it take to make the bed
or take a train to work 
how many beats 
does it take to count the beats
I must count the beats some time
before it's too late

lub-dub lub-dub
lub-dub lub-dub
the heart is a variable metronome 
that does not measure time or keep time
it can only keep the beat going
and measure love

lub-dub lub-dub
lub-dub lub-dub
does nothing
does it all

Details | Free verse | |

Poem Pinata

Please strike
the piñata
i have made for you
out of the  stripes of paper
and the glue,

In  the midnight hour
i have labored long
on this plump pig
of collaged letters.
with  corrugated metaphors
Sightless Find the weakest point.

let that guide 
your hand
the transparent rose
wrapped candy
shall flow
in libation of sound
pour down
like a quirky rainstorm
like silver
on the sidewalk
of your mind.

Details | Rhyme | |

My Family and Me

It's amazing how quick things can change.
First your running with the kings, and then you're knocked out of range.
It's strange. I used to worry and stress over friends.
Now I've grown to be a man. Maybe know a few of them.
All that time I could of studied. Did better in school.
Got a job and made it big. Maybe now I'd be cool.
Who's the fool? Now who's the bull? I know that's not me on the top.
Life is always making turns weather you like it or not.
The past will always be the past. My glory days may seem gone.
But, now its time to start a new.The stories keep coming on.
I've got a new girl. She means the world to me.
She keeps me warm at night, my best friend, my new dream.
Since my car accident, still got a limp on one side.
Still working with my memory, still need a friend who can drive.
I love to Karaoke. I get noticed in bars.
My mom's always there to catch me. Tom's working with my mom's cars.
My sister's in the Army, my niece is a big part of my life,
Friend Zach keeps assholes off me, and God is my wife.
AJ's always there to help, Brian is my LOST bud,
Mary's out of school, Lil cousin, Hunter's a stud.
Grandpa still is my idol, JT is still the music man .
The Adam's still can party. Chris, living good on the sand.
I may only use one hand, but I plan to be the best.
At all I do in life, cause there's not that much time left.
The blood test that I took says Landon is mine.
I hope this all works out fine in time and help to make my son's life shine.
JC who's down in Georiga, my heart is screaming for you.
I hope that you recover well. It can't be worse then what I went through.
Uncle Jimmy where you at? Where's Matt, Corie, and Pete?
I know you all are doing good. Serviolo's are a hard team to beat.
How's the rest of the family? I love and miss you all!
I hope you all are standing tall and I pray we never fall.
These last words that I say, I say only to you.
We've got the best family in the world and you know I LOVE YOU!

Details | Free verse | |


Crazy how when one problem is solved,
Another one arises,
When one thing is lost,
we find another one,
When we give up
someone else moves up,
When we think its the end of the road,
the journey has just began.

Crazy how when one stops hurting,
worry wants to take over,
When we are down and crushed to dust,
freedom calls, wanting to sweep you away like the wind.
Crazy how when i cry,
I realize am normal,
I have emotions and tears.

Funny how When my life is out of control,
When am broken and hurt,
Scared, thinking that this crazy world,
Is going to bring me down,
i find a reason to smile

Details | Free verse | |

The Lazy Man

"Working very hard to become very rich is not my style",
he mourns deep inside his soul. Suicide is his resolve, for when one dies,
there is no working; toiling in the Sun and rain. Running a home, firm, and his own personal life has been a burden to him.

"Death is my liberty!" he jubilates, as he jumps off a cliff.....

Details | Light Poetry | |

My Big Brother Is Watching You Too

"My Big Brother" up and down the street
  He could be anyone you meet
  Spying on you from the street
  Looking in from every beat
"My Big Brother" isn't that sweet

"My Big Brother" and I don't know why
  Casting in from above the sky
"My Big Brother" the commie spy
  Listening in do or die
  Bringing his book in
  Taught within
My Big Brother, 1-800-LET-US IN
  Caught with paper and a pen 
All because, "My Big Brother" let himself in

Details | Couplet | |

The Letter, 1660

These rustling humans, how they jabber!
With their smudged and crinkling ink dabber

I lie here resting while their investing
Their moments in this blabbered pestering

I've seen their pages scribbled in rages
Of inspiration by their sages

I hear the parchment, crisp and crackling,
Depicting marks pronounced in cackling

And wheezes of a breezes sighs
Read in secret by her eyes

Here in this secluded corner
This one was sent by a foreigner

The rounded man, all clad in fur,
Hears some code, it makes him stir

The thinner man sprouts in his chair
Which creeks beneath his squirming dare

The glamour creature, thin and frail,
Seems neutral about the true tale

I hear a fist pound on the table
Shouting that this could be a fable

"What if it's true?",  the other asks
While in fascination he basks

They analyze it for a clue,
This letter, to learn if it's true

The chamber, while closed, is secret, airy
While echo's this secretary

The scribbled riddles held in hand 
Are esteemed to be so grand

I might chew them if I could
For I bask in my puppy-hood

Details | Lyric | |

Dance to tha beat

dance to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha
dance to my heart beat

Boy verse:

Im dancin to tha beat (beat)
movin my feet
got my body in motion
to tha rhym of tha beat (beat)
she movin fast ay
im talkin nastay
we gone stay past eight
and go to my place

dance to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha
dance to my heart beat

Girl verse:

Im ready for wateva
you know wat i mean (mean)
lets get down to tha point
lets get down and dirty
I can make you fanticize
cus yo head between my thighs
when you look at my third eye
boy I make you mezmerize

dance to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha
dance to my heart beat

Girl verse: 

Im playin game of twister
im all ova tha room
im even on tha dresser
my body all on you
im playing game of twister
im all ova tha room
im even on tha dresser
my body all on you

we can dance on the bar
even make love on ya car
boy you make my heart roar
(roar, roar, roar)
you make my heart roar

dance to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha beat
to tha
dance to my heart beat

Details | Free verse | |


Quodlibertarians excel at obacerating
And are skilled in the art of obganiating
They drive people nuts,
No ifs, ands or buts,
Even their perscrutation seems nothing less than excoriating!


The Art of Arguing About Anything

People who argue about any subject excel at contradicting
And are skilled in the art of irritating people with constant reiteration
They drive people nuts,
No ifs, ands or buts,
Even their thorough search and diligent inquiry seem nothing less than condemning!

Details | Couplet | |

First Kiss

First Kiss

His brown hair with a black fleck,
 sent my heart lurching you can bet

I knew he was the one for me, 
even though he was quite ugly.

My arms enfolded him quite bold;
 I never listened to what I’d been told

Take your time get to know him, 
Oh no not me, I jumped straight in…

A kiss was what my heart told me,
 I grabbed and sat him on my knee

I turned and kissed my best-est kiss,
 he jumped and so my kiss did miss…

My young heart was now in a fix, 
my first kiss gone wrong - I was only six

But looking back I am not too upset, 
my first love kiss was to our pet…

Dad had returned back home from sea
And with him he had a baby monkey…

© 12/08/2012
Entry for First Kiss Contest sponsored by Craig Cornish 

Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry About Poetry

Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows 
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs 
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp

Details | Ballad | |

Let's Talk, Turkey

While a roaming in the gloaming
many years ago,
with steps so jerky I met a turkey
swaying to and fro.

Now being lonely and awfully homely
I hoped that by a chance
my new found friend might help me end
my lowly social stance.

I looked at him so sleek and slim
and he smiled kind of smirky.
So I said as my heart bled,
“C’mon, let’s talk, turkey.”

He spoke not never and I so clever
just couldn’t figure him out.
Maybe he’s mad or maybe just sad
and I started to moan and pout.

His eyes now gleamed and it made me steam
to see such an elegant bird
sitting so high with a sneer in his eye
and uttering not a word.

Now Thanksgiving was coming and I was slumming
and going to have hot dogs again.
I thought t’would be nice to have turkey and spice
with a little dressing mixed in.

So to home I did run and fetched out the gun
and was quickly back on the scene.
"Now let's talk, turkey," I said kind of smirky.
Quoth the turkey, "How ghastly mean!"

Well that broke the ice for the turkey was nice
and we talked for an hour or so.
And when he said bye I thought I would cry
for I didn't want him to go.

Then my good old temptation sent up this sensation
of never again seeing my friend.
The gun it seemed bigger but I still pulled the trigger
and brought my poor friend to an end.

Then I thought, as likely as naught,
my friend feels bad about dieing
for as he had fell he had made my heart swell
because he was steadily crying.

Now he is dead and my heart is like lead
and my brain feels kind of malicious
but I won't forsake it because my mom baked it
and the white meat was just delicious.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |


....simply beautiful... it is of beauty to simply write such love letters of poetry, letters joining hands within a sky of words setting a background, upon the "Sea", setting sail.. within a wordsong, as playing winds, just swirl around beautifully of air, that blows a kiss to an angeled choir to sing in perfect key, life, the spice, the scented beauty of a rose in full bloom, the scented beauty of a heart beat, beating in time, with rhyme being so kind hearted and true blue of the deep.

Details | Free verse | |

Just To let You Know

I’ve eaten the chocolates you brought last night
   in the box that was prettier then the taste of the candy
forgive me, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful
I’m not that kind of girl you know 
  one who is bribed by roses and Whitmans 

am I likely to fall for fluid practiced lines
  meant to make a girl swoon and fall in love 
for a careless hour of your time
  with your hungry, shallow anticipations…
of removing my pearls and chemise
  you know…
the one who waits with excited expectations
  for your silvery seductions...
just yearning to be seduced 
  by your lover boy’s touch
  or …
for a midnight tryst 
  that ends before it even begins
  oh yes... 
I see your majolica, opaque heart 
  It reveals the opacity of your dull mind 
you interest me not 
  my heart rises to the golden boy
the one who laughs with his eyes
he really does see me with his heart
  the one who listens- who knows the color of my eyes 
he spends $1 on my favorite kind of licorice

$20 for a meaningless box of chocolates or…
  roses meant only to impress
he's the one who learns quickly 
  he really wants to know things about me
those little endearments…
  you know...
like what my middle and last names are
  he knows and sees what I have to offer
it will be appreciated by a true heart 

for I am not an empty headed
  young, seductress 
to sweep you off your feet 
with empty lines and ploys 

I am not that she 
  who expects fancy gifts 
unloading your checkbook of it's contents
  putting out her soul for sale

I'm not some plastic Tinker toy 
  you put together and then pull apart
I think I’ll just wait until he comes along
  If not…
when I’m alone I’m happy 
  the smell of the dogwood
their fragrance in the breeze
  I’m okay with just being me

Details | Free verse | |

Sacred Passage

God of light conquer my fear from within

An eclipse of the sun has tainted my inner vision
Who are we to have believed yet achieved
Some are even caught in its pickle;
Stranded as two love birds caught in a fickle

Sacred Passage
The uniting of two hearts so far away we will pray
God of heaven take delight on my poetry
Look highly favorable amidst the summoned truth

Like a lost carriage we take our flight away

Far from the lost brevity in exchange of honesty
The silence has etched its memory in our brains
Shattered by the moment of upheaval and then,
Sacred Passage;

We look humbly then often deeper then ever before

In exchange of honesty its just Studio 54?

Details | Rhyme | |

The Scheme

It was on a day just like this,
I was lying down and pondering the abyss, 
When I thought about you with you big stupid face,
and I knew to let you live would be a disgrace,
In no time at all I was set on my plan,
Before we were friends I was even your best man,
I stood next to you at your wedding and feigned a smile,
When really in my heart I hated you all the while,
I watched as you got the girl, the job and all the respect,
And in my soul the hatred and jealousy grew and grew unchecked,
But at first I wasn’t sure exactly what to do,
My scheme wouldn’t fail; I would check it through and through,
I would kill you for sure until you were dead,
That was the thought in my murderous head,
But how should I do it I couldn’t decide,
Push you out of a window and claim suicide?
Beat you into oblivion with a frying pan,
Push you in front of a car a bus or a tram,
Buy a gun and shoot you in the guts,
Yes there was nothing for it; No ifs no buts,
It would be poison in your coffee when nobody looks,
All I’ve got to do is set the date,
And set up the cogs and wheels ready to activate,
My sinister scheme to rid the world of your life,
And then to act all distraught and run away with your wife.
For you see my motives are simple and clear,
I want you dead, your money and your lady so dear.
First I must procure some cyanide pills,
With poison there’s No mess no fuss, no screaming or thrills,
For no one can detect it’s presence so black,
And it will simply look like you’ve had a heart attack,
Once you are dead I will call the police,
And then set about transferring  your money for my future peace,
Because as you know I have all your bank details,
And the one with such knowledge always prevails,
I must be patient and not give into haste,
I will woo your wife and slowly take your place,
And then once she’s mine I will marry her,
And take control of her financial affairs,
But before I have taken your money and stolen your spouse,
Murdered you dead and moved into your house,
I will ruin your reputation with your job and local community,
I must act now and seize the opportunity,
To plant some drugs in your office desk and call your boss,
I will make it look like you fiddled the books, the profit and loss,
So after they have investigated you and brought you before the board,
They will arrest and detain you for credit card fraud,
But please don’t think that I will get my comeuppance,
All I will do is smile and laugh; to me you’re not even worth a tuppence
No don’t be deluded into thinking I ‘ll be punished 
When they find your dead body I will act all astonished

Details | Free verse | |

Moulting - for you

the next is like the first
equally shedding more skin
you do that again and again 
and I known each time 
you look at me 
we are transformed

and so we take each step
each page is torn away
a day, a week, a month
eternity in our eyes

this time with you 
like a wave that never breaks
a swell in the heart of the ocean

where the two race, play, swim

we are
the ones we see

in the next moment the sun rolls by
you lighten up the room
again a mirror 

to the little pools of mystery 
spilling out around you
giving up the secret

moulting in the broad day light

Details | Free verse | |


We sit inside a vault prepared to die

Proned to ashes scent fragrance ellusive tide;
Strong impulse as a caged rat hidden in a hole
The path is now broadened to the dire sentiment unseen,
The rocks that caress the usual quest;


Through its barren climatic rest a modest approval
Through oceanic base temperments such as rural;
Time can't ever be taken back once it's had...
Among vested tempers with wings on fire


A scorched in slight appeased gravitational pull
In created fancy the tug at heart to light a spark
Trust that the moderation of your applause may,
Equate logic with the most radical fear


I shed a single tear to numb its inner pain;
Tranformation from....
Words in outlined frame abased through a filter,
The mystery in words is it any wonder...


A line formation in its exquisite text duration;
Blinded columns of pillars scorched in fear
The heat of resolution had vanquished into air;
When will we ever seem to learn

Another moment in the sun having its page turned.
Shadows proned again in desolation sheltering demise
Twice bitten once shy to rely;
A devision of sorts sprinkled on its lethal bread

Many visions of sort twirling around inside my fragile egg shelled head.


Details | Blank verse | |

Old Gentleman Jack

Old Gentleman named jack
My Poetry on PoetrySoup

I’ve gotten so drunk/
I did not even know how to act/
After drinking a fifth and two twelve packs/
All of my inhibitions Just sunk like/ an old elephants’ trunk.
Though any thoughts to care just fell or collapsed/

I've gotten so drunk /but not all was forgot!/
So, cheers to that Old Gentleman whose name is Daniels Jack?

Poem By: TMP.My Poetry on PoetrySoup

Details | Alliteration | |


I was born in Babylon
Everyday I want to be alone
I prayed not to get low
Everyday Babylon claim more soul
I just have to go, seek for more show
I grow with no shoes under my foots
Ganger is my food, 
Mosquitoes sing the reggae allover my room 
Webs block my views, killing my crews
What can I do to survive when am buzz

Where is that place to get crazy?
That place you cannot erase,
That camp with more space,
Where you don’t have to get late
That place where you just want to be free from
“Babylon” Babylon” Babylon…I want to be free

If there is a question, it should be about relation
My action will generate your reaction
Is substitution the way to be free from Babylon?
The game is always ON, grow horns like Capricorn
Cut the vegetables; let’s be able to be stable

Details | Free verse | |

A Difference

We can make a difference

We can wallow in the feat
Where all souls meet
At the foot of the world by which to greet
In bitter silence to its door chime ring,

One can easily take heart or to what would sing;

From shadows glook of its tormented swoon
It would be at the addage of its peril
A safe place to emancipate,
The soul was erected by pious chimes;

In tombs tortured with flagrant rhymes/ Through a misfortune illumined amidst/ Shattered glass stained by bias accalades/ We can make a difference/ Fresh out of our store bought routine/ Out of curtains unleashed to swallow/ The world is filled with ghosts & demons/ Shaped by the imaginative solace screaming/ We can make a difference/ The trunk on the trees on which all branches grow/ The pen on the ink to make messages flow/We can make a difference/ With parts uncertain yet attainable/ Create/ The notion of a bridge of hope/ It's gap loosens for passengers to cross/ Reason must be supplimented by our creative imaginative & faith/ Reason is itself an act of faith!

Totals 28 lines/ 182 Word Count

Details | Free verse | |

Seeking Knowledge

"You'll get knowledge from books", the teacher told the boy.
He went into the library, picked a big science book,
and started shaking it, so that some knowledge would be filtered out. He may
have displayed thoughtlessness, but that was the beginning of understanding.....

Details | Dramatic Verse | |


A lonesome dove

feathered white.

The branch strong,

time light. "wait".

A dream.

really blowing a sweet breeze. "wait".

A heart beat sitting in a tree,

spirit like, "wait".

A rhyme.

...of atomosphere.

Details | Free verse | |


Shades of pine grafted in again resign
Shattered pine in elm certain grove alone
My meadow had a thorn certain credit
The factual harm of its heartless swarm
Featured within in the created design with pine
Eyes sharpened as a willow in garb
The tornado sequence has even the fog alone
Again tempors fly like never before
Blatant lies have come at no surprise
In parts unknown an aura of repute to harm 
Sound the alarm in fetters arm
Choirs of saints in regard to its beckoning drawn
Empire strain inside my brain fragments of cure
The surface of the sun has tainted my vision with harm
Sound the alarm agiain my faithful friend by whom we can depend
Shattered glass on the parchment floor
An impulse deep in regards to the heart
Shades of pine will line the volume of scattered pillows
A willow in derision you made a final decision
A thought provokoing reason to believe in
Shattered memory's in the moments of innocence with a plight of disbelief
We have soon turned over a brand new leaf
Timeless peaks in a swelll shattered fragments from within
A great design still sublime in its timeless parts the heart
Jim Morrison had it
Janis Joplin couldn't stop it
Jimi Hendrix sought this quick fix
An unbellievable call being caught in the mix!

Details | Verse | |

Taking A Magic Carpet Ride

Come one come all hurry do not hide
 I want you to come along on a magic carpet ride
 Cap in hand, sit don't stand
 We'll whisk away to our favorite land
Andrea Dietrich sit for a spell
 I will tell you now my magic tale
 Of days of adventure on foreign sands
 Left in wonder to what is at hand
Open our imaginations and figure out how to steer
 And then how to fly this rug or buy some beer

Ruth Courtney- Magic Carpet Ride Contest

Details | Blank verse | |


He presses down the keys on the machine
putting four images on the page
Manipulating them in a cubist manner 
with his magic filter 
He puts a halo around each
Like Christ
Man Ray goes digital

Details | Acrostic | |

In the Mix

When Slippery Susie starts to stare

Everson Everly is happy to share

Entices Everson yes she can

Does as she likes as she leads her man

So it seems Susie is the one

Mistake it may be or can this be done

Ordinary question where is the answer

Kicking purple heels on the floor a dancer

Enjoying the Music that they create; regardless...

Details | Lyric | |

Why Me Lord, Why Me?

I was taking pleasure in a rear view, 
watching a rump move to my heart beat – 
bum-giddy-bum, bum-giddy-bum.

Each time a man goes by my heart pounds faster
to the new rhythm of those mass muscles. 
Men collide while stealing sneak-peeks.
 A wife slaps a husband in the middle of Main Street, 
and my ears capture the sound of every man’s heart beat – 
bum-giddy-bum, bum-giddy-bum.

Main Street was a mess, 
so I put pace in my steps 
to preserve the vision I had before all the chaos.
Her bouncy brown hair falls softly 
in waves on her back, 
as those lovely mass muscles contract –
 bum-giddy-bum, bum-giddy-bum.

My heart was not please with letting her fly, 
my eyes wanted to see her eye to eye,
and my jewels would sulk if my lips didn’t try.
So, my lips say, “Hi.” 
She turns with a twist, and I lost my rear view.
My heart stops drumming when I saw her tattoo.

Is she the one? 
I believe she’s the one who robbed my friend. 
Did she use those mass muscles to lure him in?
My feet were frozen, I could not run. 
So …. 
I smiled and asked her, “Where are you from?”
I pretend as if I didn’t see the gun –
but from my chest comes the sound of an Ashanti drum – 
bum-giddy-bum, bum-giddy-bum.

Details | Free verse | |

Kings Queens

Those who claim to be in the know?

These are the one's on sifted sand,
Through days filled with both anger & pain
When will we understand?
When quaint desolation sets in;

Kings & Queens of the Earth...

On a vast pilgrimage in truth;
We then make plans for tomorrow amidst the given sorrow
Yet one can so easily see...
Through a lone blade of grass to flee

To then react in bitter torn silence

In solemn vows yet taken amidst
Shades of grass yet torn asunder
Some even bother to kiss?
That very day they were actually born

Let us continue to be kind today

Amidst a broadened populace that has simply gone astray
To stay attached as fruit is on the vine
A mighty path created by a great design
Through inner pain & misery;

Although amidst divers path drifting as in mockery

Kings & queens of the Earth,
Now is the time to stop lifting up your skirt!

Details | Verse | |

The Anchor

I once loved
an anchor
one of those
that sails
on skin
one of those
that has 
a rowing heart
and pelting blood

One of those
who blows
mussel covered
one of those
that tells
mermaids salty lies
one of those
go down with
rum and shackles
the day he finally

© Gry W Christensen

Details | I do not know? | |

Under Pill

Never tired, work! When tired, rest! When over tired, sleep! Never working, work! Cumbersome work, rest! And after concluding the task, sleep! I love it when it's not in any form I like the way the sky is now. ...Merriment under pill!

Details | Free verse | |



To get someone to read my poems… Contests there must be.
They must be bleeping nuts thinking I can follow all those cockeyed rules.
Out of a zillion types of poems they always pick the weirdest ones.
Allowed only 16 lines… I found I stopped at ninety-one.
And for a topic they want a bird throwing glitter from a tree.
How about I spank them as I put them across my knee!!!
And why must I name it… as they told me? Where’s that for creativity?
Then they want a special comment added in the poem…
I would rather not add plagiarism… I’d rather call it my own.
But, you know, I am so very needy that I’ll do whatever they want.
Well… I’ll do, maybe one or two… of the things they want.
I know this makes it harder to judge the poems that are found therein.
But to me a poem… is a funny bent on my crazy whim.
Then suddenly, Lord Have Mercy… my poem didn’t win.
But I’m happy as punch for even with their strained smile…
I’m sure they read one of my poems yet again. :)

(Meant only for fun) I'm not really complaining. Just having fun.

Details | Free verse | |

Hot Oil In China

We have hot oil in China,
  Rising slowly from the ground
  There is a deep dense fog hovering round

The air is smokey, so dense it seems green
  The sun so hot it's making everyone lean
  Curfews so early all think it's obscene

And the hot oil keeps rising, if you know what I mean
  Hot oil keeps rising, it doesn't go down
  It's been well over a month since it covered the ground

Machinery moves carelessly all through the night
  I bothers us so much we boarded up the windows tight
  I bought ear plugs but I gave them to my brother Mike

Bells keep bleeping on and off go the lights
  So another pair of ear plugs I bought
  School won't let me wear them, saying I'll rot

So I decided to grow my hair long 
  Hide my ear plugs under it all day long

But when I go home at night 
  And I cover up really tight
  And I pray because theres nothing else we can do
  Oh hear me Lord, don't let my mother find the ear plugs in my shoe

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

My Minds Eye, while looking thru a monacle

I need to find out what it all means,
so I searched for the truth in my dreams,
illusions of a shattered reality, unwoven at its seams.
All of life's cohesion, a plan or just by chance,
the gravity enabling this universal dance,
it all seems to run just like clockwork,
makes me wonder whether it might be Gods work?
So I looked through my minds eye, while I was wearing a monacle,
it really did make this world look..well, rather comical,
the distortions of vision were astronomical!
Atomic particles at a most basic level, I saw God, I fought the Devil!
The smallest atoms you can find, the Higgs Boson and strings that bind, 
I even watched as expansion hit rewind!
We're taking leaps out into space, huge accomplishment of the human race,
our solar system we've had a taste, further and deeper, how do you operate?
We'll one day finds Earth's new home, maybe under a giant dome,
or in a galactic ice cream cone? All the stardust that makes my bone.
Northern lights, just a jewel on my throne,
though science says 'it's just ozone'
have your ideas because their your own,
don't allow your mind to be overthrown,
things got hazy, or my mind got lazy,
so I took my rag and I buffed my lens,
it feels like I am bathing in pure cleanse!
Or i'm finally round the bend?
Will my head ever truly mend??
For when your balls knocked over the Wonderwall,
all kinds of delight, short or tall, await those who stumble across that garden,
you'll rub your eyes and pinch your skin, What? Hey? Pardon!
I have a sea view over all eternity, the 1000 you's, the countless me's
Life graces the universe, like a play well rehearsed,
starts with a nurse and ends in a hearse,
after the big rip, it's all in reverse!

Details | Haiku | |

Manneken Pis

Little boy in myth
Standing pee on his wee wee
Glass of beer for free

Details | Couplet | |

Brand New Day

Introduction: Some days you feel alive, some days you don''s the elegance of life which many face in the days of existence. Through our own fray whatever it may be, we look out for a brand new way towards the light. We wander, more or less as a rabbit looking for its new home; crawling in and out within this baffled world to find serenity - To find a brand new day filled with everlasting aurora of peace and contentment.

Sometimes the sky is blue, sometimes it looks so white
Sometimes the truth hurts too, sometimes it's blinding bright
Sometimes this life feels short, sometimes it seems so long
Sometimes we go abroad, and at times we feel belonged

Sometimes we want to heal, sometimes we just let go
Sometimes we feel so real, sometimes we feel hollow
Sometimes we don't forgive, sometimes we don’t forget
Sometimes we feel captive, and at times we do regret

Sometimes we sure wonder and pray to leave things back
Sometimes we surrender and we get back in track
Sometimes we learn to deem the truth from the lies
Sometimes we feel the change and start a whole new life

One day we see one light that brings in so much hope
It shows one true love, in a whole new view
That day may be today, reading this here and now
These words aren't just to rhyme, but to put a vivid smile

A smile which won't leave off today
As we all know it's a brand new day.

Details | Free verse | |

Give me shelter from the pain

In early years of shallow tears proned to ashes

Swift glances harbor chances
As in a sea drifting out on some raft
Shattered glass in swift desolation
A vile degrade of hesitation

Give me shelter from the pain,

In moments of sadness lest I refrain...
The greatness of tragedy & sorrowful intent
The pull in fragmentation & expense
Gone our the days to frolic in the haze

Give me shelter from the pain;

Through a barren tree to strain.
Sending exploits & fragrant
Shattered glass once again
Perhaps its best to hold our breath & count to the number ten?

Details | Free verse | |


Anguish taunts through a barbed wire fence with edged grasp

Actions in which human beings rebel against a holy God
Miss their purpose for their lives
Surrender to the prince of the power of the air more then God
Cause  all of their deeds were evil!

An eclipse of the sun had tainted my inner vision
Push back the pain with radiant guide
Does this notion in thought come at any big surprise?

Weak willed tyrants from the flood of dispinsation
Shattered fragments loosed in gloom climatic abrasion
Parts unknown from the setting of the sun

Leading gullible women captive under the false cloak of compromise
Abortion on demand
When will they ever understand?

Blood shed in our streets
Evil tyrants from elected officials overly prideful taunt & pull!
We each our responsible for our actions before a holy God

Details | Free verse | |


We sleep deep with eyes reflecting sudden drag in turmoil

We lament then run full circles in distant fantasy parked by its brevity
In sleepless nights frozen conclave we insist that we get our way;
Shapes of frightened cold unleashed sway;
Colors flourishing in ambiance tempered in modest excursion

A sworn agreeable text to lament in hot regard to its pierced claim


Shattered glass on its myraid surface with plot;
Sadness in hearts that swell in its loosened conclave of ivy dew
Drops of loom loose filled the room faltered glow

For the kingdom of God is at hand!

Through a choiced drama

Through a blaze of glory an almost different story!

Details | Free verse | |

Nap Time For Kitty

As the kids sat around undecided and blaize…
A summer project was needed ever so badly today…
My crew wavered and together finally exclaimed…
They wanted a video and to make it spectacular this time…
Anything less than U Tube quality would be a crime…
So the kids ask for a poem about their favorite fare,
They wanted it full of a large quantity of action and flair.
And the topic they wanted, that warmed their hearts…
Were the antics of Dandylion the cat of our house.
So cat chasing and spying became a spectacular game…
As they watched the kitty pounce upon his little rag mouse.
Then he slid and he jumped as he ran through the house.
He attacked the dogs tails as he snuck up behind…
And he climbed to the window to count birds passing by…
Then he tried to jump on the counter as I made everyone’s lunch.
He had to eat first… there was no other way, than first…
Then later I put the baby down for a nap…
And surprise, surprise! 
I found the Kitty next to baby with 4 paws to the sky.

The video, music, and poetry would eventually come to be…
With the older kids stringing it together for me.
It was finally good for a lot of laughs…
As the kids all got copies for dear Mom and Dad…

But now let me instruct and suggest as all videos must:
Though many a one was happily surprised and beset…
No Animals were hurt in the making of “Nap Time for Kitty”...
Of that, you can bet...

Details | Rhyme | |

Every dog has it's day

there once was a boy who lived in a little town 
where he was considered one of the toughest around
 it was not that he wanted to bully for fear 
he was forced to live up to the reputation of his peers
 deep in his heart he knew it wasnt right 
but for some reason he was always forced into a fight 
even though he wanted too it was too late for change 
he had to live live up to the family name
 and it was never cause by the things he did 
it was always because he was so and so's kid
 his little brothers was'nt as tough as him 
so he had to always take up for them
 a friendly kid pushed into rage 
by being force in to fight guys sometimes twice his age
 arguing he didnt chance the risk 
he always settled all disbutes with his fisk 
he was such a person no one could perdict
 some would say he spoke softly but carried a big stick 
others would say he has a good heart but just a mean streek
 however he was not one to be considered weak
 until this one fight that he was sure not to lose 
where he ended up with both eyes black and blue
 and with a pain he'd never experince before
 he knew at that moment that he did not want more
 seems the first time in his life someone had pulled his card 
cause he was taken punches that was pretty darn hard 
so for the first time in his life he just turned a ran away 
he figured better there he go than there he lay


Details | Rhyme | |

Christmas Presents

I've been around for more Christmases than I care to remember,
But I'm still filled with excitement as Yuletide nears in December,
Hoping that when I open that beautifully wrapped box,
That it won't contain the usual tie and matching argyle socks!

Each November my spouse asks, "What for Christmas do you aspire?"
I ask of her the same, "What does your dear heart desire?"
To each we always say, "I need nothing, it matters not to me!"
One year we'll surprise each other with nothing beneath the tree!

My family can thank their Mother who shops for every gift,
Otherwise, left to me, they'd all receive very short shrift!
She has excellent taste and is a very diligent shopper,
Ensuring that sizes, styles and colors are all fit and proper!

I've always heard that it's better to give than to receive,
And it's the thought that counts, both of which I believe,
But bless my soul, why doesn't Santa bring things for which I plead,
Then, I needn't have garage sales for the stuff that I don't need!

When all is said and done, the gift that makes my heart glow,
Is not to be found in a box bound by fancy ribbon and bow,
But comes in the form of love from those whom I treasure - 
A gift from the heart, warming my soul with infinite pleasure!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | I do not know? | |

A Sand Box Experiment

Little Jenny was always found to be very prim and proper/
Outside reading her cook book by Betty Crocker/
Lazy Mary Sat on the lazy suzanne,
Butch Malone was their next of kin kissing cousin,
Along with Mary this made up the famed dirty dozen !
That sand box experiment really made us laugh/
Shortly after gym class,

Butch Malone along with the famed Benjamin Bankhead/
Jimmy Foley the local guitar player knew,
The pathway in life that we should choose/
Often he would be found taking a tremendous dump in the boy's urenil !

The path of least resistance sought about from a chosen few,

Often he would appear in shepherds clothing similar to little boy blue !

Playing guitar like he's going out of style !
That sandbox experience was designed to distract all the teacher's ?
We set up stuffed dummies just to look like real people,
Right underneath the bleacher's !

Old man Winter's who worked for Mr. Kazoo knew the score/
Very often he was being seen outside the local liqour store,
Lest I emplore,

The sand box experiment was in full swing on that one particuler day/

Butch Malone thought he was the real king ?
That was until Mrs. Maloney saw him through the window !
Next the time was drawing near/
Then so was that dinner bell,

Mrs. Maloney started talking to all those dummies,

Next thing you know she had tripped over little Johnny !
He was stuffed that was/
Flying three feet high in the air she had fell right on her face !
What a social disgrace !

Yet what had happened to Butch Malone ?
Like a little dog without his bone/
He pee pee'd his pants then cried all the way home !
The next day when Mrs. Maloney got her second wind/

She didn't even know where to begin/

For that little stunt the whole class was suspended for the day,
Yet for the gang including Butch Malone what did they say ?
All in all the sandbox experiment really did make their day !

Details | Concrete | |

NOT MY little JOY


Everyone who knows knows it shouldn’t have gone this way
A friend I’ve had for eons knows this isn’t the way it should be
That such a threat be handed unto me
My ex-wife Peggy will say the same
That such a strengthened opponent would summon my name
Just three quicksilver years out of high school
Thought I was cruel because those guys seemed cool
Only to be confronted and finally tormented by  such a gory ghoul
Without  question my parents would tell you “not my boy
Not my boy who blessed this earth with his birth
And oh how cute at only ten days old he could get up on one knee
Things like this don’t happen to him, my husband or me”

And they would say those exact same words only maybe paraphrased a bit
I feel like yelling loud enough for people for miles around to hear me scream “Holy S**t
This isn’t fair and I can’t bear the thought of such a callous end
After my doing things an honest man could never defend 
Looking back at the people a hurt badly enough for blood to run
And every single act of selfishness I have ever done
So now, as my every dream, plan and prayer fades
Maybe it’s righteously right that I would contact aids
    © 2011.… Phreepoetree


Details | Free verse | |

Language Barricade

On the community blog
I met this spaniad
Hi! Was the reply I got
Her profile captivating
My desire sprouted
What a beauty you are
An unspeakable clusters of letters displayed on my screen
What do you mean?
Hoping it was a mistake
But after repetition
I realised the boundary
We understood not ourselves
How I hope for a new lingua tongue
My heart wept
I couldn't express my love
To the one my heart draws to

Poem written by me; Olorunsogo David

Details | I do not know? | |

A Bit Of Nonsense

Is your desk calendar a reflection
of your thoughts?
Or are you neat and tidy?

Because, if it is.

A scribble is just a tangle of ink
with nowhere to go.
A design so intricate you don’t have to think
just follow the flow.

Doodle completed.

Is it a work of art?

Or is it just graffiti?

Or you could borrow a ladder 
And become...............

''The Scribbler on the Roof.''

Details | Free verse | |

If ya can't

If ya can't beat 'em, join 'em.
If ya can't join 'em, bribe 'em.
If ya can't bribe 'em, blackmail 'em.
If ya can't blackmail 'em, kill 'em.

If ya can't kill 'em...
well, that bridge will come
just think up a plan 
and pray it works
if not....
ya in doo-doo
better get mommy to kiss that boo-boo

Peacin' out ya'll!

Details | Narrative | |


Frozen in time,
captivated by this enormous being,
the size of a small car.

his every move.
The way he used his hands;
so child-like.
With all the consciousness of the world, 
and graceless coordination.

of the visitors,
as they briefly called out for his attention.
Only for a moment,
then they were gone.

in an orderly sham. 
He sat there,
in his dark cave.
As if he was waiting for the light to find him.

on a boulder, 
squatting, and primitive.
Drawing in the dirt with one hand. 
Swatting a fly with the other.

His nature,
as he rushed to consume his food.
The females hovered behind him,
watching intently, 
like me.
His movement mechanic.
His presence powerful.
He was the king of his domain.

his magnificence, I watched.
How smart was he?
Could he feel my presence? 
Engulfed in the very essence of all that was him, 
I watched. 

how he felt, I watched.
Did he think he was still in the womb of Mother Nature?
Or, did he know the iron bars which embrace him now?

it happened;
our eyes met.
He noticed my presence.
His gaze intimidated me, 
But I did not look away.
He approached me.
I felt his eyes inspecting my soul.
A chill ran down my back,
I turned behind me,
only to find no other presence there.
When I turned back, 
we were face to face.
Separated by the sham,
And a two inch piece of glass.
Just me and him,
the two of us,
and the females hovering behind him.

His old eyes spoke to me,
They said 
“I am like you. 
I love, I feel, I hurt.
I am, like you.”

I put my hand on the glass
and with all the 
consciousness of the world,
he did the same.
With tears in my eyes,
I smiled.

Then, he pooped in his other hand
and wiped it on the glass.
This was a sign of endearment.
I laughed out loud.
And I swear,
He smiled back.

Details | Narrative | |


...this is so intimate of time, as a first kiss of time close of soul, so near, so dear of heart beat, so precious a rhyme that flows so intimately,
deep of time, down by the Crystal Seas...
...this is so intimate of dreams,
dreaming reality,
as the Crystal Sea so reveals of destinies galore,
destined as the night light of the moon-glows of starry eyes,
upon the waters,
...seeing tranquility upon the waves...
watching to the depth of a dream,
and a sun-rise
being so true...
for underneath and within this a moon-lit poem of starry night eyes, down by the Crystal Seas, a vessel sets sail upon the deep...into a kiss of dawn...
Sea to shinning Sea.

Details | Haiku | |

Lonely Love

There was a boy named Chew Too Who. He fell in love with a girl named Sue. He gave her a flower, But it was too sour. She fell in love with someone new.

Details | Sonnet | |

Shall I Compare Thee

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more stormy and less temperate.
Rough winds do shake our fragile bonds of May,
And summer's temper hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot your sweat does shine,
And often is your beauty dimmed;
And every handsome man you do decline,
by chance, they leave chest hair untrimmed.

Part 2 Variation
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art as stormy and as cold
And do leave me longing for May
And winter’s temper too long showed
Sometime too cold yours eyes shine GREY

Details | Rhyme | |


Tag! Your it! Like in the school days.
I got your mind lost, like you were in a corn maze.
This isn't Halloween, just another day of the week.
I'm always getting candy. I say forget trick or treat.
You can forget Flasnick. People just call me Flash.
My rap game's so scary, I say hell with the mask.
Forget Jason, They call me Lil T.
Wake up it's not Freddy, it's me you see in your dreams.
I'm rated X. Noway I'm PG13.
Sisco and Ebert said not to see the damn thing.
So if you do, you better call me the king.
I'll give you six days to live. I'm more hard core then the Ring!

Details | Free verse | |

Green and Blue

Fish swam in blue waves of cotton candy
Carless gulps of salty ocean
Tails whipping through chocolate sea
Sweet as a rice crispy treat
Mindless beauties beneath the land
Squishy scales under quick sand
While dinosaurs chant for reincarnation
Butterflies flutter in several mazes
Carrying souls from eras beneath to
Timeless eras above to retreat

Details | Ballad | |


One night a man said to his son your friend is really sick
The child pondered this and asked can he be fixed

It isn’t as simple as that my boy
Why he’s not a doll or a simple toy

Secondly the child pondered what was the matter
Stomach swelling and cerebral contusions from a Horrible clatter 

A drunk man going home one eve
Didn’t mind help or watching his speed

So he was just in the wrong place
The boy was young and chase

A bruise was all the drunk man suffered and mental grief
Now the boys friend now enjoys a painless Eternal sleep

A grown man one day entered a grave yard and promised
A point that he nearly missed

The point of is statement was that he would never let a man do this
So he set about securing himself as a prohibitionist

The young man accomplished a good many laws indeed
Until he found that a drink was all he would  need

He got sick, ill rather more like a severe headache
Aspirin was out of stock and if not treated could result in a state

So he new that a drink would thin his blood to relieve pain
That was against his word, promise, and his claim!

So he did! Later found out that drink saved him
He had a blood clot in the brain would have slain him

He sought to utilize his skills to bring back alcohol use
Though not to over exceed or abuse

He won his endeavor with prohibition and drank responsibly
Taking away keys and driving licenses to the weak and wobbly

Though that man thinks of his friend he can’t take back his factions
Every night asks forgiveness for this transaction


Details | Ballad | |

Woods, great place to hide from bullies

Beneath the soil lay our roots
Multi-legged insects walking on moss
Working hard to get the fruits
Like lost souls running to the cross
Or hungry new army recruits
With no care of profit or loss

We are the bugs
Commission on narcotic drugs
Watch as we steal the rain
Plants are ruining our brain

We feast together in the swamp
The spiders just want to push us around
They see us and want to stomp
We hide under the ground
I’m here, no fear of the chomp
It’s our other way around

We are the bugs
Commission on narcotic drugs
Watch as we steal the rain
Plants are ruining our brain

One day I hope it will change
The flower tell us one day
Not to far gone to rearrange
Apex of the sun’s way
Move to the balkan mountain range
Rather than be part of the buffet

We are the bugs
Commission on narcotic drugs
Watch as we steal the rain
Plants are ruining our brain

Details | Acrostic | |

Clean Up Time

Clear the table
Line the books along the shelves
Everyone join in
Arrange the chairs so none can fall
Naughty children don’t pitch in

Under chairs and under tables check we haven’t missed a toy
Paints and brushes put away

Toys are all picked up for today
I read a story as we wait
Mom’s or Dad’s are on their way
Everyone its time to go…..I hope you had a real fun day

Details | I do not know? | |


Such an irritating act
When you're are gravely focused
And your brain in a snap
Comes up with a flash
of Johnny Depp
on the red carpet
smoking an e-cigarette!
Now, just WTH is that?

Details | Couplet | |

Two Women at a Window, ca.1670

It's another mild day and the sky glows white
The air is still and cool as the midday light

Admirers giggle, perhaps at a young caller
One hunches over, the other stands taller

They don't look wealthy, yet they don't look poor
Perhaps trusted servants, but what can't they ignore?

They've taken jolly notice, as if on a whim
Of a miming youth who should be pruning a limb

Posted at the window the younger one peers
At this croaking lad, flattered by what she hears

Hunching near the potato patch across the way
He waves in a fluster with a few word words to say

He's glances side to side, behind the wall, stepping back
Emerging again from a passageway's crack

Between the tool shed and the gardener's house
He sneaks with the startle and twitch of a mouse

She remains calm, though tickled by his manner
For he might as well wear a bright purple banner

The older woman chuckles in faint squeaks
Hidden by the shutter around which she peeks

The younger one looks quite near seventeen
With floating white sleeves rolled up yet clean

Her girlish neckline, cut wide and low,
Displays to her suitor how well she can sew

Her hair is tucked with a bow on one side
Her grin is reserved with her eyes opened wide

Could her silly boy still have his pruners in hand? 
Is he skilled with the saw and tilling the land?

Two women at a window, quite content
Is this how many of their moments this day are spent?

Details | Free verse | |

Torture Within

There is a dividing line between the chasm fault

Some are eager & content to appear righteous yet
They are only fooling themselves through a dance
One in twain marked on its blotted page yet fully intact
Working too hard can give anyone a heart attack

Lines have been drawn in the sand
When will we ever understand?
The visible from the invisible yet now were caught in the middle
Some our eager and content in playin second fiddle?

Clearer heads have prevailed yet

There is still known torture from within my friend
One will take the time out to listen
A sign of grace spread out upon a peyton place
Circumstances all for second glances?

Yet the heart from within will surface again 

Fought back the tears with a smile still to know all the great while
A pen on a paper a stereo to caper
Me & Eric b & a nice cool plate of fish
Sorry to have missed its waiting bliss

In agony we will begin to see
A misfortune to a heightened reality as a key
Soaring ever higher then ever before reaching great heights
Shattered fragments on the pavement floor 

Some are eager & caught in vice
perhaps another chance or a roll of the dice?

Details | Lyric | |

Between and About

Twixt And between
Never quite there
But never will I stop.
I work and ponder
Forever moving 
Searching around and about.

There are times I wonder, where I really am?
Will I ever achieve my goals?
And what are the goals I’m searching for?
Are they really what I want?
Do I know which way to go?
Or should I start all over and begin again?

We’re all here at times in our lives…
Till every thing will finally become clear.
Then, some how I’ll be there again:
Twixt and between
Never quite there…
Here I go again.

Fluff Contest: This poem is definately full of fluff.

Details | Verse | |

Breakfast Love

Breakfast begins with out a care
 Waffles and applesauce
 Thats what love is
 This mourning here with you
 I just reminisced 
Our first kiss
 And this mourning
 It's applesauce to you
 And just because
 I hit life's pause
 I now give sauce
 And it's because 
Of the things you do

Details | Free verse | |

The Art of Eating Like a Man

There is something 
about eating a rack of ribs
that makes me feel medieval.

I feel like a portly and bearded Hemingway 
in a bulky fisherman's sweater 
after a bullfight when 
I ingest barbecued pork.

Beads of testosterone 
bleed out of my forehead
as I eat.

A man does not utilize 
a prissy and feminine set of utensils
to neatly slice and daintily dice 
the tender meat from the rack.

A bona fide man will clutch the ribs 
with his creased and hard-working hands,
sink his incisors deep into the roasted flesh,
and with a quick forty-five degree snap of his head,
will shred the dead animal’s brawn from its bone.

And like the full-bellied lion 
who rests in the verdant shade 
with gazelle blood dripping from his lips,
the man who just finished a rack of ribs
will lean back in his chair,
rub his enlarged stomach,
while not realizing that he’s wearing 
a moustache of barbecue sauce.

Details | Free verse | |

The Inner Struggle

Some our very eager perplexed swept within

Underneathe the belly of the beast
A needed flower to grow amidst the rise of yeast
Within sullen fragmented dreams & truth
One may even negate that inner truth for a lie?

That inner struggle within/

To remain attached to the vine sublime

We are more then qualified for its great design
To calm the nerves from within
We look to man yet find no hold
We look toward self thus grafted in again onto the rights are sold

We then read books based on logic & get trapped within

For some, 
It's inner struggle is what we all must seek to face
Within loose debris in decayed formation
Yet some its inner struggle is a way of escape?

Proned toward evident inhillation embraced with its surfaced Peyton Place;

The inner struggle from within
Fought back the heavy tears with a smile
Still to know all the great while
A hand to hold a loving kiss embraced

For this is the thought provoking struggle we enivatably all must face?

The inner struggle.

Details | Free verse | |

Everybody's Hairy (written by a 9 year old girl)

Everybody's hairy
My Daddy's hairy
My Mommy's hairy
I am hairy
And all of us have hair in our noses

Details | Free verse | |

Philosopher's Elegy

Prof. Twittie died from an
experiment; like and unlike Socrates, he intentionally
took hemlock, to see how the afterlife looks like

He intended to return
to the physical world after his
observations, which he didn't

For a century now, no one following
Prof. Twittie’s school of thought
has yet dared to take poison,
in order to return with Prof. Twittie
back to the physical world,
and finally conclude their findings
in pen and print

Details | Limerick | |


Could someone please loan me a muse?
Without one I can only cruze.
For I read your words sweet
Knowing mine were once fleet.
Muted I fear my mind I will lose. 

He made a wonderful start
But storms now don't trouble our hearts.
Wind is more consistant than he
I'm in a perminant lee
I need an actor, or a brand new part.

Details | Limerick | |


Botticelli-the pot-bellied artist For the Medici family was a great activist. His paintings rose him high. For his Venus you know why. He's been claimed such a great artist! Dorian Petersen Potter Aka ladydp2000 Copyright@2006 September.21.2014

Details | Light Poetry | |

My Job Sucks

Wretched working weekend
Friday, Saturday, Sunday,
twelve hour shifts,
praying for Monday.

Noisy nurse's station,
patients pressing call-lights,
you'd think they'd all be resting,
but instead they're up all night.

With their East Texas accents:
"I need hay-elp" patient cries,
always adding syllables,
"I wet my bay-ed," from 545.

One patient's heart rate's 170,
another's is just 40,
and there's a patient screaming:
"Lordy, Lordy, Lordy."

Constant call-lights beeping,
monitors alarming,
patients demanding Demerol,
isn't my job charming?

600 pound man who
just poops in his own bed,
takes three aides to clean him,
(I'll keep my job instead!)

In 20 there's a drug-seeker,
whose privates are all swollen,
in 30 there's an old man,
with cancer of the colon.

I answer all the call lights,
then page the patient's nurses,
I give them their messages
and listen to their curses.

I'm stuck in the middle,
angry patients on one side,
calling busy nurses
whose frustration they don't hide.

Meanwhile the phones are ringing,
and I have to keep an eye
on 27 EKGS,
so someone doesn't die.

Then the ER calls and
they need three more beds,
the thought of telling everyone
fills my heart with dread.

Well, that's the job I'm doing,
and I guess it could be worse,
every day I'm grateful for the fact 
that I'm not a frigging nurse!

Details | Free verse | |

The world is mad

lying in wait, 
skulking along alleys 
hiding in shadows 
amongst bums and homeless
the moon is bright
shining silver on the 
rain soaked street 

waiting to see the world 
walk passed;
like a horse wearing blinders
they don't know 
what is around them 
they don't know 
what's behind them 

a shadowy man 
stepping out from the
dark corners of the alley
could come up 
and wrap both hands 
around a person's 
swanlike neck

as soft as a caress
of a lover, 
they wouldn't know 
the difference
they are blinded 
by what is only in front 
of them 

but at the same time 
they can't see what is 
passed the very 
tip of their noses
they seem to thrive in 
negativity; where as i 
love to wake up and 
smell the roses

lying in wait 
in the alley and 
shadows of the big city 
breathing softly 
no one notices 
i am inivisible here

i cannot be bothered
unless i make a scene 
which i plan to do 
with a friend and me 

we have music 
its a stereo that we
blast to full 
and we begin dancing 
like mad women 
again, this goes unnoticed 
by those that are blinded 

by others they walk about
wandering over 
we are human-
curious by nature...

we make fools of ourselves, 
grabbing the hands 
of random strangers,
screaming "Dance!" into 
random faces; 
some comply to our demands 
others runaway 
...apparently frightened that 
we really are mad 

who knows, 
we could very well be 
the world lives and thrives 
in madness 
full to the brim with
women born children and
grandchildren who 
wont admit their 

the world is mad....
accept, live, and breathe it. 
the world is mad.

Details | Rhyme | |

To Your Health

To Your Health

I read an article that said laughing's good for you
It strengthens the heart muscle, it's something you should do
It made me think about my health and all the things I see
That I should eat to guarantee a new and better me

So I thought that I would change, what do I have to lose
If all the experts say its right, it must not be a ruse
I just got back from shopping, bought a lot of healthy things
I'm going to test the theory, see what improvements that it brings

Today, while on my treadmill, I snacked on tofu puffs
While lifting dead weights with my arms, but that was not enough
I quenched my thirst with carrot juice, all freshly squeezed of course
And munched on a granola bar, a sure heart healthy source

I had a bowl of Cheerios, floating in some Silk
I'd heard that it was healthier then even nonfat milk
For lunch I had a yogurt, it was the non fat kind
I also hid the salt shaker, out of sight, out of mind

Later in the day I thought I'd like to take a break
So to sooth my hunger, I munched on a rice cake
By dinner  I was ravenous, my cravings unfulfilled
This healthy kick that I was on was not as it was billed

I guess I need to give more thought to the changes I will make
But for now I'll finish up, this inch thick pan seared steak
Perhaps I moved too quickly, cause I don't like the food I bought
So starting with tomorrow,  I'll just laugh a lot

Placed 12th in D.P."s ANY FUNNY POEM contest

Details | Limerick | |

I Fell In Love

I fell in love; my heart goes thump, thump.
You, dear one, a beautiful tree stump.
Creases that shine so clear.
Your presence, calls me near.
Say you love me, while I have this bump.

My heart craves in desire, for your rings.
Fire burns inside, as the minstrel sings.
Your caress sometimes rough,
I am your man; I am tough.
Say you will be mine, please, my lust springs.

My darling, thus true, you are my stump.
Adore resting on you, on my rump.
I ache for answer, soon.
Before the budding moon,
My sweet love, do not make me a chump.

Details | Free verse | |

lost, found, and liberated

i use to lie awake at night 
and ponder of this pointless life 
up for hours and not make a sound 
i once was lost but now i am found
my sea of confusion, like moses did part
the instant i let jesus inside of my heart...
but than i let out a gigantic huge fart 
and realized it was just indigestion 
than like a sensible person, i began to question 
and out of those questions, came rational thought 
and all of the things in school i was taught 
like critical thinking and following facts 
so i came to the conclusion: religions a quack 
now i live happily, in awe of earth's mysterious beauty 
and if you don't like it, you can kiss my patooty

Details | Couplet | |

the death of me

I heard today on the radio news
about diet soda's bodily abuse

yesterday's bit, a blood-soaked whack
about my likely acute heart attack

I remember well my last cigarette
years peeled away, never to get

back to an ever longer life
cutting truth with sharpened knife

that too much carbs will metabolize
my body to twice it's natural size

and also, all that fat I'm ingesting
will contribute to my heart arresting

crossing against a light, the J-walk trot
seems so pedestrian, could hurt...a lot

some terrorist's bomb, a flash done quick
more preferable than linger, diseased and sick

or maybe the decades old saccharine
that I used to drink will do me in

or a cranial aneurysm, a stroke ungenius
a wikileak bloody, arterial or venous

my cell phone may irradiate my head
and leave me the message that I'm dead

tomorrow something will, I'm sure be found
to insure that I'm no longer around

until then I'll continue on my path
trying to avoid the Angel of Death's wrath

will several billion or so, patient souls
remember that they have little control

so could just one notice, I'm the absentee
and remember something was the death of me

© Goode Guy 2011-05-24

Details | Bio | |

Tri Lingual

Wii Wii senor~
French speaking Spanish
Spanish speaking English
English speaking High-TEC


Details | Light Poetry | |

Monsieur Arac H Nid

My petite blushing rose
come turn your face towards me.
Ignore yon flitting and buzzing pests
silly dandies in black and yellow vests.

I long to spring upon your long green stem
dance amongst your soft and silky leaves
I'd spin a sparkling web so sweet and fine
then weave two cups of dew from which we'd dine.

They will simply tease and rob you of your gold
and adorn themselves of your fine riches.
Then without so much as a thanks or care
they'd desert you for other treasure scenting the air.

They cannot need you or love you as my heart does
for they already have another queen to return to.
They are brazen, drunken fools that can't hold your wine
or understand this ache so pure as ever will be mine.

So cast but one glance toward this winsome beau
and I can draw my last breath with joy.
I'll spin us a heart of gossomer thread and dew
for Monsieur Arac. H. Nid and his lady rose too!

©Jane Richer

Details | Rhyme | |


Sometimes we rhyme to rhyme
Sometimes we do it for time
Maybe we think it’s fine
When rhyming for the sake of rhyme

Sometimes we write to write
Sometimes we write in light
Most times we try and fight
Reasons why we like to write

Sometimes we lie to lie
Sometimes we lie to spy
Generally we lie to pry
Into lives to catch a lie

Details | Burlesque | |

The Human Animal

In the hunting field known as Wal-Mart
with meat we fill our cart
with beef pork and poultry
in our robes looking so sultry
we feast on the wild america
from the safety on aisle two
we shop as if we nothing else to do
we hunt for bargains
we wheel and deal
and cut coupons
all to safe 55 cents on grey poupon
we roam in packs 
purses replacing sacks
we hunt relentlessly for bulk prices
and buy our meat by the slices

Details | Rhyme | |

The Art of Winning

Winning is easy I don't even try if I said that I did it would be a lie that which I steer clear from a cardinal sin if your asking about me your learning to win And for whatever reason is a reason, at all because it keeps you going determination so raw its a beautiful feeling a winning nature means winning, at all it takes such an artist to conquer the fall its how softly I've landed that last time, you see just a bit of half stepping winning comes to be

Details | Free verse | |

Eternal Vigilance

He had to be on his guard at all times

The swift forces of evil sifted through to receive his gait
Still in awe combersome state of resistance
What everyone simply needs in life is a chance
Eternal vigilance,

Then soon vanquished to its cryptic elemental heights

Some having even fought back the intense pain lest I refrain;
Another twist in prominant vice to promote its blow
Some our quite eager & content 
In getting the best out of me...

Some having sifted through its canvas setting abode

Others ponder relics in an excursion filled up in cold & distant stream
By a clever heart of careless scheme
Eternal vigilance
As fragmented cold yet distant hearts asunder

In stoic yet stark quiver in its plumetted excursion

Shelter lies dormant exposed to its inner beckoning call
Eternal vigilance
Within a certain thrust to expose eternal vigilance
Today are society lies dormant;

Exposed to its desperate rudimentary elements!

Details | Free verse | |

What Kind of Man?

Beware the Boob Man
For he’s shallow…and a little juvenile

The Leg Man is sensual
And can’t hold a conversation
The Butt Guy
Just wants sex
Correction: Just wants some ass

Watch out for the Foot Dude
Cuz that’s…
…well that’s just weird.
No one likes toe grime

The Vagina Man is smart
Intelligent even
Knows his facts
But tends to forget the big picture
Make sure he doesn’t forget
The rest

The Neck Guy is great in bed
He maybe in bed
With more than just you

The Eye Man is lovely
Simple, tactful, and sincere
He loves walks on the beach
And romantic dinners too
But this man…
He sees perfection
But doesn’t forgive
He may never notice your ass sag
But what happens
When you need glasses?

The Back Man
Is artistic
In his attraction
He can see the sexuality, the sensuality, the spirituality
And the mingling of the three
While he finger-steps over your back
He’ll hold your hand
Making love
And kiss your chin

The strength of a back
The smooth lines
The soft touch
The Back Man knows
It doesn’t receive much
It’s a place where
The entire body convenes
To convulse
To contort
To contribute
To control
To lose control
Where it holds no absolute confidence
Where it holds all conviction

Details | Free verse | |


A hero is just that lost in the suace proned to devastation

A barrage of intense flames loosed in its politically incorrect agenda
Sought back the upheavel with a smile still to know all the great while
A chalice is just that in some absurd excursion plotted to the extreme
The inevitable remedy with hearts on the upswing

Through the complacency proned to decency
The upmost honesty to endeavor the braided swelt of heat
In an illusion prond to twilight fantasy in its eternity
The inner plight of justification & sensitivity
Gone our the days we used to frolic in a haze
Today we are all being stuck inside a maze
Shattered dreams in the notion of fright to sight
In scrambled eggs inside the equation
You base your logical theories on the basis of regret
All the hero's and legend we knew as a child have left
In random discourse,

We felt the sound of innocence in the right perspective
Shattered fragments in their devastation in dreams
A flight of fancy & brevity
The cause of charity
In its equated logical fashion We absorbed the extremitites
Many today suffer in silence amidst its blindness
With temples of gloom shattered fragments in their room


Details | Light Poetry | |

Love on an Overpass

This is a tale of love so rare the kind both lost and found,
A story too big to keep inside or even on the ground.

As I traveled the road on my way to work one day,
I read a sign that I saw, to see what it had to say.

On the overpass was left the sweetest note that could ever be,
Someone had painted “I love Marv” for all the world to see.

It was a message too big and real for on a tree to carve,
And I thought that this must be some great guy this lucky guy named Marv.

To evoke such a passionate message to be left on an overpass,
He must be quite a guy and now it seemed he’d gotten quite a lass.

Her unmatched love has caused her now to risk both life and limb,
To dangle the edge while tempting fate to leave this note for him.

Such loving dedication is in this world too seldom seen,
But it is what we are all searching for in this land of broken dreams.

There was something new a few days later when I traveled across this road,
I saw there was a change to the sign and to the message that it told.

It seems that overnight the V in Marv had somehow grown a tail,
Now a Y was there in its place and could be seen from the trail.

The sign it seemed was now dedicated to a lovely girl named Mary,
Marv’s love for her displayed, I hoped, would never need to vary.

It was a great thing and it warmed my heart when I thought of their plan,
To honor each other and dedicate their love by using a store bought spray paint can.

And even though this lucky Marv had only made one mark,
His love was real and could be measured as coming from his heart.

And I’d hoped for them that their love was a long and lasting bet,
This single dash Romeo and his spray can totting Juliet.

But it seems that Marv’s efforts weren’t fulfilling for his one true Mary,
A single swipe from him just wasn’t enough for her wavering love to carry.

Soon after there appeared a change to what the sign had to say,
The Y had grown a leg to the right and it was now turned into a K.

It seems that Mary’s love of Marv must have only been a lark,
For now her heart was given to some other guy named Mark.

Poor Marv, I thought, his heart must have shattered just like glass,
But that’s what you get when your love is displayed upon an overpass.

Details | Free verse | |

Free Range

Often my thoughts do range far and wide.
But it’s not just my thoughts that skim the tides.
When my Hubby asks and I don’t reply…
He says I’m free ranging again with my mind.
He laughs and tells me to please wake up…
But I’ve already been there, thank you, so much.

Deep in thought and so far away,
He’s still my muse in every way.
But once I get going on that thought…
Look out boys, my mind is set and lost
But don’t you worry. No Sireeee.
When the typing slows you’ll know I’m back, you see.

Those free-range chickens have nothing on me…
I way surpass them in productivity.
And as my words free range far and wide
You’ll find… others may be joyfully joining  me for a time.

Details | Rhyme | |

Quip's What Pinkee Would Say

1. I nee some bo, bo paper!

2. Kiss my

3. Liar, Liar sock's on fire!

4. Life is hope
    I need some Pope
    Hope is man folks....

5. Mercy Said No...No ischeca-duta in bed....
    Isch-cha-denta a pillow to night
    So daddy, Isheah-denta-ooo and I love you too.

6. I didn't Isch-cha-duae to day'
    But for my own sake I will pray this way

7. Mercy said no Ish-chu-de to night
    Cause I said so
    A pillow to sleep on my bed
    And a Gorilla in my head
    I am kind of scared
    That Gorilla might Ischeh-duta-eat me'
    Look under my bed Uncle Gary


Every little girl want's to Isch-cah-duta some-time's......   :-)'s.....Kiss>kiss

Details | Light Poetry | |


some have it on 
like it belong
in some it was born
always worn
ion there face
of everyrace
guess its by taste
they have that

Details | Limerick | |

I Tried

Once I fell into a swamp like region
They were lying there just like a legion.
I said, with a little scream!
Who wants a little ice cream?
They said, maybe after your extraction.

Details | Free verse | |

My writing lifestyle

If an inspiration comes to me in a dream
or thought, I rise to the occassion, and write about it anytime;
it may be at 3:00am, burning the night oil;
the neighbours' lights are normally off. An odd person I'm perceived
to be; awake at wrong hours. I also talk alot to myself in the mirror;
editing and re-editing verses that are stuck in my mind.

"An asylum is the best abode for you", they tell me. A warm smile
and more poems is my reply.

Details | Rhyme | |


No wonder why she was envied for her shiny hair
not for her agility, beauty and whim;
her name was Wilderness Flower...
how could her mother have given her such a name?

Unique and beautiful was her superb dancing,
friends made fun of her...humming, 
" Wilderness Flower, why do you hide your laugh? 
Are you impersonating someone else? "

She ignored those silly remarks,
by gently landing on her feet,
" Can you dance, not leap like foxes? "
she responded with a voice so meek.   

" Surely we can and much better than you, of course! "
They challenged with a cowardly threat,
Wilderness Flower replied, " Why do you sweat? "
They stared at her and shouted with voices too coarse,
" Prove to us how talented you are! "
" we are better trained than you by far! "
She defiantly yelled at them performing with laughter on her tongue
and would they let her get away with it, or prove her wrong?

On stage she performed for a bunch of fools
who didn't think she was the very best...
and would Wilderness Flower set them loose? "
" Why spoil it with hastiness? Let them wait and guess! "
Was her murmur that not even a soul could hear,
so why they acted so immaturely and allowed fear?

On the shining floor she intentionally slipped screaming,
" I broke my me to the emergency room,
I may not make at all and die on the way over! "
" Don't die on us, Wilderness Flower...we are sorry for our bullying!"
And pledging they cried and swore seeing their guilt loom. 
" You fanatics played with my emotions with convincing flair! "
She attacked them with loud scolding words.

" But since you admitted your foolishness, I will forgive you all,
if you let me make fun of your silliness and die a sweet death
by laughing as hard as I can! Wilderness Flower exclaimed.
 " Please do, we can accept that, but promise not to return as a mad bull! "
They all crossed their fingers as she went into deep sleep...
did she really give up her soul for some silly dancers who did more than leap?  

Entered in Natalie the Rouge Rhymer's contest, 
" Die A ' Fun ' Death Contest "

Details | Rhyme | |

Cheatin Dance contest

I still remember the night we fought. 
It was the night you got caught.
I know it wasn't part of your plan, 
for me to catch you cheating with another man. 

We spent five long years together. 
Always happy, no matter what the weather. 
I remember the first time you were accused, 
but I had no evidence, so you were excused. 

Everyone was telling me, but I didn't hear. 
To all of them, I turned a deaf ear. 
With you in my arms, that's all I would ever need.
I knew you and knew you would never make me bleed.

I still remember the night we fought. 
It was the night you got caught.
I know it wasn't part of your plan, 
for me to catch you cheating with another man. 

It didn't take much time though, 
soon enough, your true colors would show. 
My love, patience and kindness never mattered.
I saw that when you stomped on my heart and it shattered.

I can't believe I trusted and said I love you, 
then you betrayed me, but I guess that's just what harlots do.
It hurt so bad, I thought I was having a heart attack.
But it made me laugh, when you said you wanted me back. 

I still remember the night we fought. 
It was the night you got caught.
I know it wasn't part of your plan, 
for me to catch you cheating with another man. 

I gave you five years of my life too many. 
What did you want me for, you were getting plenty.
Now from me, you won't be getting any. 
Now when I see you, I see a person not worth even a penny.

Details | Free verse | |

Art in Love, Art is Life

There goes the Mona Lisa and Picasso's girlfriends
scribbling down the highway of surrealism,
as the Scream is breaking glass with a high-pitched cry in Oslo;
and the melting clocks of Dali's masterpiece stops time for a moment,
as the paintings fall in love.

As color spectrums mix together to create nothing but a mess,
that we all in some way call art,
the Mona Lisa sits and gives one of her snobby smiles.
Picasso lights another cigarette and invites another French girl to his apartment,
paint flies everywhere, as articles of clothing start to strip off,
and the screamer is still screaming, for what?- I have no clue.
All I know is, art is in love.

What a minute- who invited the Thinker?!
All he does is sit there and think all day!
My head would ache if I thought hard and long like a marble statue all day long.
Get out of here Thinker, and take the Scream with you,
he's making me deaf!

There you are art in love, nothing but dead guys, painting naked girls,
who give an innocent smile,
but so a little more than their teeth,
and those Dali clocks that melt slowly in an ideal painting,
you can almost hear time ticking backwards.
Art is beautiful,
Art is life.


Details | I do not know? | |

Stock Market Stroke

Thronged investors at the allotment bazaar
Large cap bearish
Scripts at fall.
Awaited ingenious and expertise capitalists
Then brought into 
Scripts at down.  
Mid Cap bullish
Scripts at rise
Wavered SENSEX
And small cap ingress
Gives the once over like a cliffhanger rise.

Beginners rapacity and analysts variegations
Former’s paucity and latter’s accrued funds.

Pulled blue chips 
Superior position
And more towering price
Then again a new firm
Offering a bid price.

Broker’s commission and depositories dematerialization 
Varied revenue
Over investors capitalization. 

Inflation hikes and deflation brought down
Again a widespread decline in the GDP
Brought the whole market to pull down.
Analyst’s accrued funds and NIFTY’s superbia
Top thirties jackpots and investors allocations,
Sharply jerked down.
Brainsick market
And a quidity beer bar,
A full-time financial express
And the morning tea NDTV regular. 

Beginners’ luck to fill the pot
And a period later
The crow sated the piggy bank pot. 

-------------- X -------------------

Details | Rhyme royal | |

Killer Benignity

Honied ardor basked from my hermit heart –
A sweet flavor of candy sensed by her aura, as she went past
I stood by my bumped dopey abstractness, Alas!!
She turned back by her benignity, killing my reveries, Aghast. 

Palavered into my daydreams, embellished by spare chance
A lovesome zeal of bond aflame by her glint eyes, felt at her glance
I trusted my dazed bust heart, so soon filled by so much emotions
She neared towards me by her benignity, killing my last breathe, quiesce. 

Perplexed at the acquaintance so arrested, only a smile share apart
A whisper unspoken heard by my ears, she stole my heart at long last
I realized the moment so idyllic, and insisted it to be forever
She woke me up by her majestic paroles, killing my nap, Drat!


Details | I do not know? | |

fascinated with piglets

Young and old with one glance,
A child of children with secrets,
A secret of yesterday’s romance,
 Produced from wild eyed couplets,

But given the slightest chance,
Would live without regrets,
Parented with a glance,
Fascinated with piglets,

How we love to dance,
Before we take our first steps,
Ants tickling in our pants,
Quickly before home to our pets,

We walk our baby trance,
Followed by puppets,
Then sleep on harmless plants,
Then wake with our forgets.

Details | Free verse | |

The Quote

One day
A stranger came up to me
Speaking in riddles

He said:
Inspiration incites the inscence within that incarnates indigo indians.

I did not know what he ment until he followed up with:

"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club."
                                                   - Jack London

I then

what he was 
talking about.

Do you?

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Out Heart

Out of the heart

Springs the many issues of life amidst
Throughout a distant embracing strife
Out of the heart a modest choice to make
In ardent springs embraced upon temporal negate

Within time,
Comes about a correlation within its peace
Strong is it may seem
Out of the heart some may disagree/

Out of the heart...
One may equate logical persuasion out of a mist filled with reality;


The tender soil still quickens lending it to art as in some specific touch

Through a variation in a dream falling apart at the seams

Some are even very eager to engage in its deepest sympathy?

One may negate truth thus in order to twist its factual to live the lie?

Still others equate logical persuasion amidst;

Out of the heart form the issues of the heart/
Through darkened shades of Pine some may even spring a leak?
We still know what tomorrow might bring?
Amidst temporal chords of fallem mankind
We stand amazed at the glue of false fabrication
Twisted thoughts filled with thunder amidst its period of priority
Justification by faith yet they negate logic for a side order of fear
Twisted minds that plug destruction blaming third degree of fire on their very souls
Neglect to pick up the cross & to follow then soaring into sorrow
Never any hopes for a brighter nor that a better tomorrow;

Out of the heart the mouth will speak amidst the madness deepened creek/

Throughout darkened shades of Pine soiled in the breeze with illogical persuasion
We all still know not what tomorrow may bring?
Amidst temporal chords of fallen mankind
Under the surface of the bone filled there is still a layer of skin
Whence, do I need to ever begin again
Fallen man amidst a rise of the angry pagan
Flashlights with a dull pitch formidable response in its equated logical filled lies
Does all of the lie come at any logical big enough surprise?

Details | I do not know? | |

Broadcast #5

The dress was a vested interest
In looking good; the hair drifted down,
Soft Grecian lines that curled
Over sun-browned skin 
Camouflaging freckles on her back. 

Roving eyes took in the seated diva;
Her throne(worth all the tea in China,
Maybe more) was The Solar Bird,
A bronze, by Miro. 

Her exit was the East Wing’s nearest door.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Finding My Pure Heart

All the violence on TV was probably not good for me
All the decapitated corpses on video games not the brightest idea for me
Life’s real dramas just frustrate me
All the fabricated television dramas annoy me
We all love a happy ending yet we consume the misery and pain of others
Haunted by life changing events
At times I just simply need to vent
Why be educated and humble when being ignorant and shallow brings you fame
Why save your virginity for marriage, when society’s sluts take all the good guys that a girl covets
Why be a nice guy, when all the respectable women settle for assholes yet are surprised when they are mistreated and cheated on
Why live a life down the correct path, when the wrong path is glorified and admired by society
Beneath the darkness and rubble of life exist the flickering white light of my once pure heart

Find more of my writings and poems at

Details | Free verse | |


In justification marked on its pivotal blank page yet fully intact

Gone our the days to frolic in a haze
We tend to vomit on each others neck
In regret with sore vent Vlad Impolaric ways

You stoled my heart then ran the distant mile away
Filtered in the mass hysteria with tiny nerves to sway
No shelter to cry we all fall for the lie
The liar is in us all

A peril excuse to next abuse

With a tug at the heart vanquished to even run the final mile
A jewel of the Nile with glasse cracked in desolation
Straight to Hell on your next vacation,
Surfing the videos on the web

What the Hell is going on inside our head?

Sweltering heat with bloodshed in our street,
The mind falters then crys with an ellusive side
Faltering critics in darkened demise having fins for teeth
Shattered in the wind six times then we begin again.

Details | I do not know? | |


Art is art is Art,

and as such it will be confrontational to someone,

and will at some point in it’s existence, 

piss someone off every minute of the day

( CLiPiCs AKA Kriss Lee: 03-06-09)

Details | Free verse | |


It running away from life into
the forest, while you are part of life too

It is teaching children that killing is bad,
by killing the same people who kill

It is leaving a will to a pet-cat,
that doesn’t know legal language

It is living in a mansion with all kinds
of accessories, but desert-empty of food

It is painting a picture in the dark,
unless you are a psychic

It is putting all a year’s savings
on a one-day chess game bet,
yet living in a house for rent

It is a man hiding from death at a corner
in a dark room

It is living with no dreams like a robot

It is getting into a Holy shrine as One people,
and getting out as strangers

Details | Free verse | |

-My Prayers-

I lay me down before I sleep
the eyes I see are a major creeps
One who's hurt me
like no other
My heads a mess
my heart still bleeds
For the love that was a lie
An evil spell he's cast upon me
Believing his words,
laughs, and cries
He will never know the pain he's caused
He has a soul as black as night
With a heart that's made of stone
Upon his face smirks the devil's grin
Feeling grim and hopeless
I pray and pray for a knight
that will rescue me by mornings light
One who is strong enough to slay this creep
and make everything right

Details | Rhyme royal | |

The Orange Rhyme Challenge

Thusly, as per Good Sir John's contest prize contest, I humbly submit the 

Dear Sir John,of your poetic rhyme request,
I will now do my very best;
Sir John's  Poetry rhyme request,
Though some may consider it rather strange,
And, perhaps, to some, a mighty challenge,
I think I might be able to arrange,
With a pilgrimage to mystic Stonehenge,
Where I may, in fact, rearrange...

those lenticular aspects of your family flange,
And, though the poetic quality may appear...
Somewhat mensa- menge',
I trust you'll find my work of acceptable range.

Once again, Good Sir King John the First,
Congratulations on a job well done!!

Your humble serf servant, tom bell.

Details | Blank verse | |

the art of catering

The Art of Catering 

There was a time I believed everything I read, even in Reader’s Digest. 
one such story was about a French soldier in the world war one who, 
in his breast pocket carried a notebook full of verses written for his 
true love in Lyon, a daughter of a welder. His adulation saved his life.
It was not for me to reflect upon how a note book could stop a bullet. 
I told mother I wanted to join the French foreign legion get wounded, 
not too serious mind, all this to impress the girl next door she didn’t 
like bookish boys who wore round black framed glasses. I threw my 
glasses away and for two weeks couldn’t read and tended to walk into 
lampposts. I challenged the biggest bully in the school yard for a fight… 
and got a bloody nose. I became a trainee cook and the girl next door 
laughed till she cried.  Back then cooking was not a big deal. Now that 
no one, not even women know how to make an omelet cooks or chefs
are super stars and show their skills to adoring fans on TV.  

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Not Always An Eyesore

clutter to me isn't bad, because it:
gives me exercise when looking for things,
keeps me company when alone in the house,
makes my guests concentrate on me,
and hides my lack of artistic talent with interior decor.

Details | Rhyme | |


A city with the tallest skyscrapers,
many languages spoken by friendly faces,
bridges that are wonders connecting the five boroughs,
and amidst art and folklore, there's always a clown with hysterical laughs.

The mighty towers were suddenly brought down by
a hatred too gruesome to remind all of lost lives; 
they were the Motherland's pride: the two jewels of master minds,
the new ones, much prettier, are quickly rising up against the same sky.

Do I feel safe? I definitely do with the beautiful Lady Liberty
holding up the bright torch and needless to say how brave she is,
more than a sentinel who loves her immigrants who assimilate her ways
that they desperately seek in the name of freedom and equality.   

A city founded by courageous men escaping religious persecutions by waterways,
even God blessed her for keeping her faith and made her great up to our days;
it's proper to say that this is the world capital for technology, art and trade...
so it's easy to guess where I am living now...the city where fortunes are made. 

Details | Free verse | |

Pro Predicament

Circuitous circular departures cleverly Sequester and  
embrace Inexpressible  moments of time.

Reexamine status, prevent  consciousness apathy, 
fabricate and reflect acceptance of self. 

precisely propose  to expose fallaciously filtered 
fantastical trickery touched theories.

Turn tasteless translucent tall tales into stable, sturdy, 
structured strands and threads of reality.

Penniless pocketless Poets put the points paralleled 
and placed above onto pure white pieces of paper.

 Once they find the ramble in their role they carefully 
command,Clever creative content to appear from thin vapor.

Amusement, bemusement, a resplendent  daring drawn 
out dark dance down a solitary diabolical descent. 

Lingering Layers let love live in a finely spun web of 
lazy, lofty, lyrical linguistic letters; lost lurking spiders cant
 reach the heights that sadness fled.

Poets are pros, pronounced proponents, that precisely 
reconstruct a feelings components that fails to leave any 
audience in a stoic state of stoney discontent..... 

Though they tirelessly endeavor to gain a fans approval 
and respect, they fail in fortunes favor. 
 Yet each day they commit make their art 
when most would be right to quit. 

Anyone can become a pro poet, 
you can tell we are devoted, though it should be noted 
if that's the readers intent, not a paid pro among us can 
come close to turning our 
thoughts into rent!

Details | Quatrain | |


I left my heart in another place
But it's not like I dropped it;
I took it out when I fell in love
And without it, I forgot it.

The only reason I remembered
Was because I looked in the mirror
And in the hole where a heart should be
Were two words: insert here.

Bereft of heart, I cannot love;
What misery I am in;
My chest feels cold and hollow as
If I was made of tin.

If you find an extra heart,
Or a willing donor,
Would you give the heart to me?
Without one, I'm a goner.

If I could have a heart again,
I would brave storm or blizzard,
And if you gave your heart to me
I'd treat you like a Wizard.

Details | Rhyme | |

Peek A Boo

Peek- a- boo, I see you.
Is it true, between me and you?
That I live here, and you don’t care,
Taking my picture, and then making caricature.
You come to me, now I see.
You are no martyr, in the water.
I swim so free, you indelicately.
Your trick is cool, I live in a school.
Leave me alone now, or I will scowl.
Let me hide in peace, or I will glow cerise.
If I could see your face, then I would mace.
Cause you are in my place, in the first place.
Now rise, rise up true, thru the blue.
Because you have something to do, and I do too,
Now go away, down here is where I’ll stay.

written for
Sponsor Carolyn Devonshire 
Contest Name Attack! 

Details | I do not know? | |

When Bodda Boom ! Met - Bodda Bing !!!

Years had passed still I had every bit of reason to grasp/

That true essence of what he said/
Yet there was many thought's inside my head ?
Like the time I drove my big wheel into the yellow Ollie !
I was speechless in thought and deed

Still I never bothered to take heed/

All I wanted to do was just speed !
That's how Bodda Boom met with Bodda Bing !!!
You all know what I mean ?
I even could hear that sweet little bird sing/

Bodda used to be a good friend until when
Bing came strolling into the town/
Many thought the freekin guy was such a clown
So nobody wanted him around/

Today Bing resides right next to The Jersey Shore
Last I knew he lived with a whore ?
Yet who knew/
About that two timer Boom/

He's the spitting image of Jessy James/
Then with his face I'd like to rearrange !
How could he do that to such a beautiful lady !
She's better off settling for Wavy Gravey !

So it was back to the past,
We had every reason to grasp/
That day when Bodda Bing met up with Bodda Boom !
Yet who knew ?

Details | Rhyme | |

The Heart Attack Grill

The Heart Attack Grill

By Elton Camp

(Incredibly, all of this is true.)

Deceptive advertising nobody can claim
Take a look at this Las Vegas café’s name

Sign at the door gives customers warning fair
That it’s bad for your health to eat in there

Fake medical titles are given employees of the place
Servers are “nurses” & “doctor” the owner does embrace

On a conspicuous sign put out for everyone to see
People who weight over 350 pounds eat there free

Two customers have had attack while eating there
Which isn’t surprising if you consider the café’s fare

Flatliner fries, bypass burgers and butterfat milkshake
Are among the very unhealthy choices diners can make

The restaurant has been in operation now for seven years
Death of its 600-pound spokesman should’ve raised fears

In two months, two customers have collapsed while eating
Perhaps they didn’t believe the warning sign’s greeting

The grill’s spokesman died when he was just twenty-nine
The two customers survived and didn’t really flatline 

As a spot to eat, Heart Attack Grill I don’t highly rate
To be eating there might seem like one is tempting fate

Details | I do not know? | |

White House Porn

The white house with a porn shop
Drinking whiskey
There getting kind of sloppy
Making wages nearly stupid
Playing Naked
I guess that’s a kind of game

Kind a like the days when we thought we were so young
Got a feeling yeah it’s hard, oh to over come
I think I found understanding through a paper
Can’t change that thought without a warning

The courts playing cash grab
Hearing I tunes
Locking up the innocent
Girlfriends make a mad dash
Earning nothing
They leave you going our way

Details | Bio | |



Details | I do not know? | |

My Destiny

My heart is filled with acrimony 
The culmination came with his testimony
He said that he no longer needed me
And that he was now setting me free
I thought this was my destiny, my plan
All centered around this place, this man
I gathered my things and I left behind
The world I thought of as mine
The brilliant noonday sun did not melt
The freeze that my heart so deeply felt
Despair was taking over my feelings
From this blow, my head was reeling
The combination made me begin to sob
What would I do without that job?

Details | Diamante | |

isn't funny.

the lines roll off our lips or the words that were so hard to find while in love come to
us like water from a fall,
the colors we see while our hearts are full brighten our world yet blind us to the words
that make anyone understand,
roses are red yada yada yada some thing about you, a love smitten lover, a boyfriend, or
husbands call,
if you read it and fill what they are saying love surrounds you, if you turn away click to
the next poem heart ache makes it's stand,
in love we see all that is right,
in heart ache pain is all that is in sight,
a smile filled with love,
tears of ache fall as we curse the heaven above, 
yesterday you were the brightest of them all
 today i see he/she just made you fall,
was it the love song, the long walk,.
the way your eyes locked, or the all night talk,
you fell, or shell I say you jumped head first into love are thats what you thought,
writers block right .... you could only say I love you in so many ways,
now in pain you see it was all for not,
now you write the words that that others want to say,
isn't it funny in love your creative, alone.....your a poet,
they greatest poems ever written are sad,
love poems never fit,
love is patent love is kind love is what we have and had
and a broken heart walks alone on a empty sea shore,
isn't it funny and hate .....forever and never more, 


Details | Rhyme | |

Why I Write

I write to release all of the emotions I’ve picked up during the day,

I write to remember happy memories, and to make the bad ones fade away.

I write because I am in love. I write because I’m in pain…

I write because I have nothing to lose, and so very much to gain.

I write when my head is filled with fantasies, dreams and or goals,

I write because just like an actor, my mind takes on many roles.

I write my own songs, poems and sometimes silly little rants,

I write because I feel, I write because I can’t.

I write to show others like me that they are never alone,

I write to create another world that is simply my own.

I write because I am proud. I write because I’m ashamed…

I write when there’s a voice inside of me that can’t be tamed. 

I write at three in the morning when I can’t fall asleep,

I write because it is far better than counting furry sheep.

I write because I always have something to say,

I write because it has made me into who I am today.

Details | Light Poetry | |

My Dream Land

A world to me so dear,
A place to my heart so near;

Love and joy flows all around,
Happy children you’ll find here;
Sweets and candies abound.

‘Tis where I fly with the clouds,
With them I make funny sounds.
Look dear, all the side soaring hills surround.

Small and big streams pass here;
They disturb not my ever tranquil world,
But flows as harbinger of peace and love, O dear! 

Birds, too, sing melodious numbers,
Their song awakes the winds and the leaves from their slumbers.
And oh, how funny it is to see their faces lazy looking like tumblers!
Welcome here, welcome all
A place to my heart so near.

Details | Burlesque | |

A Matter of Taste

Morbid Fascination?
Eccentric arbitrary
Pseudo Sadistic
Same Thing?
You bring Abomination,
I'll bring the booze.

Details | Rhyme royal | |

I Thought I Loved You

Started with that intense eye to eye look
Next thing I knew I was hooked
Like a fish on a line 
Next came those first words
In which a romantic date followed
Days pass by and then weeks
Next thing I know it’s been months on in
Thinking yes she is the one 
Because I didn’t know where I was going but I knew where I had been
Been trapped in a confined box
Being kicked around
Shoved into all types of corners

I am used and abused
Who wants something that has been worn out
So as I look at her and look at me and begin to doubt 
Not knowing what this can bring
But I knew I was happy
I knew I haven’t had this emotion in some time
So I get on that love ladder and begin to climb

Climbing and climbing there is no end
This girl is doing no wrong
It’s like I sprouted wings and flew
But I stopped myself and thought this is to perfect to be true
But our love was so strong as if we were put together by glue 
Next thing I knew it happened all of the sudden and out the blue

A dagger straight threw my heart
Everything suddenly fell apart
I thought you was different
I thought you were the right choice 
But little did I know my love for you was just a voice
I didn’t love you
I loved what you represented

I loved you were a woman of God
I loved how I made you laugh
I loved when you had a bad day I was the first one you came to
I loved how you called me babe
I loved how we had our long talks

But those were the things I loved about you 
It’s funny because you weren’t even true
It’s funny how your head says you’re in love
And your heart is telling you no
It says her love is like snow
It will soon melt away
Not listening I continued with doing me
In which my heart did not agree

All the sudden my head somehow hit my knee
And realized I have strayed off course
Because I liked you with great force
And you had me running in circles as if I was a race horse
I am not in love with you
Now knowing that I am through 
I simply said to myself 
“Your love is like a really bad and contagious flu”
Because I thought I loved you

© Jeremy Fennell

Details | Haiku | |

I'm Very Passionate

my bleeding heart - pumps
purple passion just for you
drip drip drip drip drip

Tribute To 
Bleeding Heart Flowers
So Dainty But Beautiful

Details | Burlesque | |

The Reason Why There's No Market in Poetry

"Only other poets read your poems"
Said my father, to my great appall
So I plastered a poem in spray paint
To the side of the town's harbor wall

Then the bobbies saw my piece of artwork
And they dragged me away to a cell
Then they threatened to brand me a vandal
And they called up my parents as well

When my father showed up, he was yelling
"What in blazing God's name did you do?"
I replied "You were wrong 'bout my poems
The policemen have all read them too!"

Details | Rhyme | |

Salty, Sultry, Juicy Sweet

The hottest lines - one after the other I devour
Salty - sultry - tasty - juicy sweet like a toasted flower.
The ink runs from the corners of my brain,
Oh God, have I been eating poetry again?

I made the mistake of swallowing one set of rhymes when
The librarian appeared, putting on her necklace chain
Reading glasses while looking down her nose.
Her eyeballs rolled, her head shook out her woes.

Tearing off another page with her walking toward me,
She was about to release the dogs - I had nowhere to flee.
She stomped her feet and began to weep
As I crumble the next page into a heap.

She backed away as I snarl and I bark,
Crunch, crunch, crunch - swallowing all the way to the question mark.
Finding her nerve she approaches me with a moan,
Then I watch in amazement as she tears off a page of her own.

Folding it up in the palm of her hand, she smiles
And growls and shoves the whole page in while
Pulling out another book from a hidden pocket of her dress.
We sneak off together into a hidden recess.

The hottest lines - one after the other we devour
Salty - sultry - tasty - juicy sweet like toasted flowers.
The ink runs from the corners of our brains,
Oh God, have we been eating poetry again?

With baited eyes we snarl and bark,
Chomping with joy in this bookish dark.

Details | I do not know? | |

Lose The Weight !

Just as though a person will train in the natural/
God wants us to use his talent in the supernatural !
A thought to ponder,

Many years ago/
A very noble poet had penned,
"The pen is mightier then the sword !"
Yet what was his richest reward ?
This came not from the things given to him by men !

One man had prayed long to God for help/

He went to the doctor,
Shortly after the doctor stated, His prognosis was grim !"
Lose the weight or your going to die !"

In return the man worked out everyday;
Even started working on his tan,
All of a sudden, the man started looking and feeling great !
Time had passed and he was crossing the street one day,
Suddenly he got hit by a car !

In the return the man prayed to the Lord again;

"Where were you God ?"
His reply was,
Frankly with that tan Sam, I didn't quite recognize you !
As the pen was to the sword/

Learn to pull forward to earn God's greatest reward !
One word to the wise,
"Read your bible and stay away from all of Satan's lies !"

The moral of the story may be strange but true !
That God isn't ever through with you !

Details | Light Poetry | |

A Gravitational Pull

Stone upon the water front/
Next to the cashmere pillow,
The pier near the gallow shore/
A man began to speak,

Within this land there shall be no way out accept I tax,
This gravitational pull may bring some down,
Yet if you stay and listen very carefully/
You will live through this time and be very happy !

Many of you have become lazy in the manner of laws,
A decree will be summoned to let us know/
The waiting may be hard to comprehend,
Yet within time you can grow to depend/

The fat of the land,
Let this man take you by the hand/
There can be no further excuses or escape,
The way will depend upon the hearer's !

Details | Bio | |



Details | Free verse | |


Still going ever deeper after all these years
In rudimentary changes featured taunt in blinding fears
That soft pull of a heart will light a spark
Over head we can quietly look at butterfly's circling the wind
With ovart cluster filled with circling eagles
In summoned line formation to reach upward
A tug at the heart will light a spark

Still going deeper...

It's gravtitational pull may bring some down
Some lasting sentiment of praise withstand
To help embrace fate nor that in some cup to raise
In some darkened peril place with vile imaginative trace
Along loose lines by which to bind

Inside I still hide behind a garb filled with walls that are trapped

With hidden wounds to silence then bind to bite & devour
Shaded colors emmersed in radiant lights filtered to flourish

In many faces proned in traces looking back at me from peril strain
While the caged fury of the outside world is totally insane
Still going ever deeper then ever before...
A reckless abandonment from my fractured skull having ravaged body thrown on floor

Some shouts of peril to doom will seal your tomb along a sunset shore
A human heart is a choiced vice that can be used by choice
They are garland to grace your head
All her paths our peace yet some lead to the dead

Guard your heart amidst the perils that falter
Give me shelter to cry amidst the pain & turmoil
Branded my reflection in a sentiment of reprise
In strict adherance to the law from temporal recourse

Although a tear drop should fall sends a shiver down my spine
A fresh scent of dew will help swallow up the pine
A passage of unique fragrance sprinkled on the quaint existance
Within solace we can anticipate peace

Through a memory filtered in the state of complete retreat
Gone are the days to frolic in a haze
Today we are all second guess as a mouse is in some maze
It's gravitational pull will bring so many down

Shadows proned again into inhilation,
Heaven sent through angelic appease..
The choice of divination to some stuck twart existence.
Planted in my fragile computerized egg shell mind!

Details | Free verse | |


A heart can bleed an evil deed

Yet in nature lie dormant after the fall
A return to fear after all
The climatic edge toward their own demise
Still a word to the wise

A sin will always find you out
This ought to give the sinner something to bitch & pout
To light a flame in shouts of anguish after the fall

Barbed wire fences social advances & no it alls
Search for words left unaided in its time
The curb of enthusiasm and the sublime
In anguish the soul longs for rest

In being cursed with fear to never have rest

In anguish the appease of the blind

We live for vile excess

Still a challenge to be free is a quest for time...
To travel alone amidst darkened caverns with portals of instant doom
We have relatives that beg of you to clean your room
This does nothing to stregnthen the heart

To light the spark to what it was I have been waiting for
Vengence is mine the Lord will repay
Giving papal homage in which to bow the knee to pray
In papal square thwart in fear

An ego scream to shed a single tear
Yet no need to fear in which to hide
Along the garb of social compromise
A word from the wise

I shed a single tear to numb its inner pain
Yet not having her in my arms was driving me totally insane!
Cursed be the man or woman who will take no heed
To revere a sovereign Lord in which took the blows

The blood soaked sweat on his brow in timeless appease of want
No where to lie his head in homage toward the dead
Cursed is the one who will not be blessed
Our blessed Lord once again is putting you to the ultimate test

An eagle will fly through the sky in sense of direction
A hero's reflection in never second guessing
A heart that is fixed on the natural will never succeed so take heed!
Cursed is every man that hangs on the tree

Please let this be me?

Details | Free verse | |

And So It Once was said

It was a dark and stormy night
Too cliche
Once upon a careless whisper
Too sappy
And she bled from a thouand knives
Too desperate
So she caught all the little butterflies
Too .......... horrible

Details | Lyric | |

TWITTER SONG that I write.

ROCKIN' TWITTER :The original twitter song (Parady of ROCKIN' ROBIN) BY 
He rocks in the TREEHOUSE all a day long
Hoppin' and a-boppin' and a-TWITTERING' the song
All the little FOLLOWERS on T-COM WEB.
Love to hear the TWITTERS goin' tweet tweet tweet

Rockin' TWITTER (tweet tweet tweet)
Rockin' TWITTER (tweet tweet tweet)
Oh rockin' TWITTER well you really gonna TWEET tonight

Every little TROLL, every FOLLOWEE
Every little SPAMMER in the tall oak tree
The wise old GURU, the big black GIRL

A wordy little BLOGGER at the HOMIES first POST
Taught him how to do the TEXT and it was grand
He started TAPPIN' steady and bless my soul
He out popped the HASH and the FOLLOW

He rocks in the TREEHOUSE all a day long
Hoppin' and a-boppin' and a-TWITTERING' the song
All the little FOLLOWERS on T-COM WEB.
Love to hear the TWITTERS goin' tweet tweet tweet


Details | Free verse | |

Shooting Blanks

In time corpse shine twilight sun  had tainted my inner vision
Shooting blanks at the rooster just supose another number feeling somber
Doesn't any wonder?
The inclusion within vile pathetic outrage
Shooting blanks as busy as Tyra Banks in bikini eating linguini
Torpedo, remember Frank Serpico?
Frantic in Autumn looking brightly colored orange 
In pivotal choices sense of remoseful inclusion
In dirty laundry vile smell who could tell
A window opens air will blow to breath in the steam,
Shouts of glory to untold story morning glory;
Shooting blanks getting lost in the shark tank
Romantic interlude toward vanity
In tuned harmony to its hidden beasts menagerie
Shooting Blanks in the phone at the door

At the beach while Mrs. Polly eating a peach.

Details | I do not know? | |

Whisper (The Secret)

Let me tell you a secret peep it
poetry is an art form, so intriguing.
Whether you're in solitude
or on stage speaking not speechless.
Poetic speeches teach the future's
young leaders many reasons
to lead the leadless to be leaders.
Knowledge, college scholars showered
with power make nonbelievers cowar.
Hardtimes tower over our life
and devour us from the inside-outward,
if we let it.
If we could....backtrack our tracks
to the past back when
elementary class was in session,
I'd take a different road
as an inacurate adolescent.
Back when....
grandmother was packin' a blessin'
in a black sac clappin and stressin'
cause young kids weapon clappin'
in da back of da black Lac
actin manish.
I'd be a....
doctor, an athletic athlete in a track meet,
a balla that packs Heat like Shaq.
A teacher, I'd be Puff Daddy
and remix 'Mo Money Mo Problems' featuring Aretha.
But remember, that's my secret,
shhh, don't tell anybody.

Details | Light Poetry | |

Let's Be In A Relationship

So you can crush my hopes

Destroy my dreams

Puncture my heart

Murder my self esteem

Vaporize my personal confidence

Humiliate my ego

While throwing me into an abyss of self doubt

On the bright side

You will give me plenty of new material

To write about

I guess I should be in a relationship more often

I guess this is the life of a writer

Find more of my writings and poems at

Details | Free verse | |


A champion within us all

In direct correlation between time & space
To be selective then destined to negate
The difference in an influence & choice
In a dream one can easily scream...

Through a slight of hand & then,

A champion within us all
Now we can stand ten feet tall
Amidst uncertainty & critical excursion
In sullen laughter to help appease disaster

A shoulder to cry amidst a gentle reply

Nature derives destiny from matter
The substance of equivalent structure
A champion within us all
Triumphant over most

Through a lone blade of grass drifting away

A heart beat away from a full pulse display
Still pressed between its current world I know
Then to be suddenly faced into the land of forbidden

A large chasm fix between the two exist

Within the foundation of freedom in swift disapproval
To soar ever higher into its vast domain
The whole world view or fabric in our existence
For many is humbly equated to reckless abandonment

One has to be very careful how they perceive this analogy.

Details | Light Poetry | |


if the south
is your rout
you see the tree
 and a flying bee
its fun
there's barn
with a dent
that carry a 

Details | Burlesque | |

The Sheakspeare Paradox

there's something wrong here,
something wrong with what we're taught
teaching us things that amount to naught
or preposterous suggestions we have "bought"

take Sheakespeare......
the guy used a feathered pen and ink
I doubt if he even had a spear!!!
such a notion, to me seems very queer...

and if, in fact, a spear he had....
why would he shake it??
was he some kind of crazy lad?

I don't understand, and never will,
the things they teach us are such swill.

Details | I do not know? | |

Live for sound

As the faucet drips and the wind chimes tink.
As the pendulum swings, I sit and think.
Such a wonderful God to give us sound.
It's something that makes the world go round.
From listening to ocean waves crash all day.
To laughing children enjoying the games they play.
So when you lay in bed to hear your house groan.
Thank God for sound, helping you feel a little less alone.

Details | Free verse | |


Off the market I dashed
In search of ingredients
To soup my poetry.
To all kiosk and stall I went
Yet I find none of it.

Fagged out on my fro home
Lost in thought of how 
To soup my poetry.
There I stumbled on it
Ingredients of my soup.

On my way I paused
For the first stanza 
My thinking personified
With a poetic licence.

I smiled with an imagery of simile
All over me was a pun of metaphor.
Only in consonance with an
Hyperbole of alliteration.

Paradox became my ordeal
With an echo of onomatopoeia
Still in an irony of oxymoron
Dancing with a metonym.

I got home with more
Ingredients from my mind
Then and there, I began to
Soup my poetry in poetrysoup.

Alayande Stephen.T
17th August 2006

On my way to Apagbon in Lagos on the behest of 
IPC Chairman,Lanre Arogundade.
Specially packaged for, as a wonderful family.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Bag Lady

The clothes she wore were twenty years old
Tattered and torn not much protection from the cold
The rusty cart she pushed with wheels well worn
The hair on her head needed to be shorn

Slowly into the emergency room she did enter
Just in time for her heart was tender
As she sat down in the chair
Her lungs no longer filling with air

Passed out onto the floor
Someone coming in through the door
Yelled code blue alert
Then the staff turned with a jerk

Everyone moved in hight speed motion
Some people wondered what's the commotion
Just like lighting to the operating room
Jane Doe was whizzed which was none too soon

After days of tender loving care 
Still unidentified she slipped away from there
Meeting her husband beside the road
Speeding away in their car they drove

She was no bag lady
But America's elderly poor
Who needed heart surgery
But couldn't afford the cure

(This is copied righted on LuLu's as are most of my work, some of which is 
supposed to be published in their anology series. Sara)

Details | Free verse | |


i had a real morbid day, harry.
i dunno what makes those nauseating thoughts come up.
utterly disgusting
and completely illogical.
no basis in reality.

i think i better think nicer thoughts,
like flowers
and clouds
and dewdrops
and picnics
and seashores,
and please extract the other two sea urchins from my left ear canal.

and harry, thanks for the swell job
on my right ear.

(mar 79)

Details | Free verse | |

A fresh 3mx3m canvas is on the floor..

To paint I do so adore..
Four cans of paint are waiting to be poured...
I hear you say "What for?"

Let's use a ladle we have in store.
Are you sure?
Let's fill a super-soaker...

On a tilt-a-door?

your action painting is now drying
on the rumpus-room floor.

Details | Free verse | |

It's a Little Funny

It's a little funny how i turned out
Most of the time my mother jokes
That I made it this far
With sunshine on sugar coated words and eyes brimmed with hope
Almost like green tea on a rainy day with a guitar playing in the next room
Different chords always strum my heart and seldom i know where to go
Seldomly, can i make the choice to be led or to lead
to give or to recieve a Heart
can't really take much more of the toxins he dishes out
  thus i am disoriented with vain poetry written on my bedside wall
only shadows can relate to that time
Oh my how time flies
oh my how many times can it fly
past the window into the street, into the stream of which both of us meet
and my poet, my art, my love
so heavy with life how far can it soar
baby how far can it soar
until it stabs your heart with my complete patheticuselessSELF

B  r  e  a  t  h  e

it gets so hard to breathe but it's harder alone especially when
  my dust, dust, dust can only collect on things that don't move
  so how come my dust follows me around
like an unbroken cloud eager to rain on your parade
It's a little funny that you say
how beautiful I am
when you are so much more beautiful yourself
I love that brown skin your in
it makes me think of honey covered chocolate
satin smooth and broken your eyes
broken like me
broken like you
  we should put ourselves, broken, together, whole
it's a little funny how 

Classical music on sunday afternoons always calm me down
with the window open and curtains blowing a little faith into my
  It;s a little funny how we put dead things in our bodies to be alive
Or how we destroy others to survive
 It's a little funny how my hand fits yours perfectly, but honey coated chocolate has 
always been my favorite
And it's a little funny of course, 
you and I
vague figures in the sunset covered with my dust and a little bit of your
honey coated magic. 

Details | Rhyme | |


Thump, Thump, Thump
I fell in love with a tree stump.
One look at her and I had a hard lump.
She batted her eyes at me and my heart went kerplunk.
For her love and admiration, I’d smell like a million skunks.
In a tub of ice water, for her I’d take a dunk.
To me that girl is more than just a stump.
She makes my heart go thump thump thump!

Details | Blank verse | |

Art and life

Art & Life. 
 At the Oslo art museum we went to see Edvard Munck’s 
“The Scream.” Yeah I know that feeling. 
 I bought a print it cost about twenty Euros, it now hangs 
on the wall in front of me and it screams for me. 
 But his painting “The Kiss” absorbed me the most, it
 is one of the greatest sensual, painting I have ever seen.
There were many other paintings of great masters, but
I didn’t see them as “the kiss” blurred my sight.
There was a reverent whispering in the room, I didn’t
cared for, like being in a church where even a cough is 
frown upon. When my wife went to the loo I told a female 
security guard she looked like the woman in the “kiss.”
Her stern, blue eyes softened, she giggled and said: 
“But you can’t see the woman’s face in the painting.” No dear, 
but if I could it would be a face as beautiful as yours.”
 More guards came and I was escorted out of the building.

Details | Quatrain | |


I've got the headphones in my ears, but nothing's playing. 
I've got you on my mind, but you're not here.
I've got you in my heart, but I can't feel you.
You're always right there, but yet, you're never near.

Our song is playing, but I can't hear the music. 
I'm just waiting for you to walk through that door.
I said, well shouted, some things I didn't mean.
We argued, but you've always come back home before.

Now, I'm curled up in your t-shirt on the big chair.
Now, my stubborn nature has kicked into gear.
Now, I don't really want to see your face.
Now, when you come home, I hope you feel fear.

I hope your heart starts racing as fast as your thoughts.
I hope you're nervous because you may have ran that red light.
You always love to make me mad, because you think I'm cute angry.
Then again, you're always afraid to lose me when we fight.

Your headlights flicker on the wall across from me.
Despite myself, I'm not angry anymore.
In fact, my heart won't stop racing, and I actually have butterflies.
All of this in anticipation of you walking through the door.

I keep my hardened, stubborn composure.
Until I see you come in with your tail between your legs and your puppy face.
One look and all of my stubborn attitude fades,
And I can't even remember why we were fighting in the first place.

Details | Free verse | |

your cyber friend

i promise to be there until the end
to look for me your email is where you begin
you'll always know what citi i'm in
it's the least i can do for a cyber friend

i'll always check my email
i'll always say good by
i'll never purposly  fall asleep
when there's a tear in your eye

i've never had a cyber friend
i think with you i'm finally in
the world of the internet
best friends and we've never met

no time to wonder if i'm in danger yet
but on this one thing you can surely bet
i'll try to be the best darn  cyber pet

Details | Lyric | |

O it's April there

O it's April there
When the mango blossoms turn to seed
And budding pear
Call the honey bee from flowery weed
And the maypole dancers are preparing
For May day fairs, and youth wild cheering.

O it's April there
And lapis lazuli dance upon the seas
And maidens fair
Like butterflies frolic in the balmy breeze.
And all my heart is under the tree waiting
For you to come, funny face, and smiling.

O it's April there
When Don and I turn our hearts to the reef
Diving corals where
Beauty is a panorama of colors beyond belief
But O my heart is under the tree waiting
For you to come, funny face, and smiling.

Details | Free verse | |


Although a tear drop should fall through the pavement floor

Shades of grass torn in its desirable stregnth;
Fragmentation of a whisper with no mere shoulder to cry.
Then fought back the tears in my head wishing dead
In solace the filter was then drained in its timely hue

Folded hands in glance of maze
Through disillusion & mediocre response;
In caring we will know by any means necessary

With a soft shelter to cry amidst the inner sadness & pain
Let me be the first to explain;
Shattered dreams within midnight screams
Amidst the porch bell parchment;

In sadness the Summer Solstice will notice;
latent dreams inside will scream

Vanquished as if we haven't yet even noticed
A challenge awaits through its sign & gate
Still it is best to live by faith
We rationalize our existence on store bought suds

Chasing crystals in jars of clay
In grand illusion throughout the day
Chase dreams once again through my hair my faithful friend
Chosen asps in sulfur & dessensitization

One would stick like glue then were through;
A lone habitation within its vested spool
Shadows in the rise of morn if their is a challenge its as good as born
Socialized wandering wizards running wild in our streets

In viable degrade;
Shelter lies dormant again amidst its beckoning call
Through the heart we have lit the spark;
To the source we light the candle in the dark

Shaded grass in its viable mast across the grass;
No peril to hard to embrace its inner guise
The peril or disguise...

Details | Free verse | |

The Final Days

Love has been left behind
For that in swine to depend
Chosen vessels of barbed wire fences left outside
In sorted desolation the swirl of the wind
Grand illusion where lying isn't necessarily a sin
Now where do I need to begin?
Fenced in challenge to its proverbial structure
Hence the vast opened door in the matter
Exploration in its equated investigation
The final days are upon us,
Marked on a blotted page yet fully intact
Creatures in the night sullen teeh to fright
Fragmented skulls having blood drawn off side
Shallow response to run away & hide
The final days elapsed within a shoulder to cry despised
Where wrong is right in the darkness of night to fight;
Sweltering sculptures made of clay in the night to sway
Whatever happened to love & a happy day
A dessensitized culture filled with its vapor of death
Yet I must confess;
Strange as it may seem with its gloom & doom at the scene,
Sold out faith in the hearts of those saints who will resist the lie
The lie that says I am what I do in reply
Marked on its blotted page yet fully intact
Grown men who lie in wait to decieve with greed
No notion of saving grace in sight
Never relent in ever giving up on the fight!

Details | Free verse | |


We each must believe in something to exist

Whether self is king or that in certain vice
To delegate a chance or that in some roll of the dice
Some our content in stoic & mundane
Wile others our frankly mentally insane

For the mighty God has done great things for me

Within pivotal yet fruitless gain or from borrowed chase
A reckless abandonment to an empty corpse shell
An angelic fervor of sorted chasm intact 
For stregnth comes in like a flood

Just suppose we just faintly disagree
This does not negate the real fact of spiritual equality
We each represent a stoic source in truth
Yet devided we sore vex call it a viable truce

Through a barrage in ample demonstrative approach to appease

For the mighty God has done great things for me
With painted stone freshly on the outside patio decorum intact
Tolerance is never an issue anymore
Set in stone its attributes deminish through a slight in hand

Hoping that someday soon we will surely live to understand

For the mighty God has done great things for me
With his mercies endure from age to age
Through frolic in twilight pasture
In ardent song within its smoked filled room laughter

This in effect prepares no one for the great here after?

Details | Rhyme | |

Happy & Rich?

Being wealthy and joyous too,
Can this happen?
Can it be true?
For I'm not rich,
So I could not say
That you could be happy
And earn much pay.

Details | I do not know? | |

Pink Is O.K.

don't you just love 
the skin your in?
dimples on your cheeks 
when you smile and grin
light and darkness make beauty begin
blending  elegance and cuteness
from forehead to chin
your eyes
for the very first time i've seen
"The windows of the soul"
your hair 
I would prefer black or grey
but for now, i guess pink is O.K.
don't you just love the skin your in?
i do

Details | Verse | |

Cornfields Have Ears

Mother warned 
Never make love in a cornfield
For the corn-- has ears 
And they just may tell...

Upon hearing this 
I laughed and replied mom
They might have ears 
But they do not have lips 
With which to speak...

Not so fast, Careful daughter said she with a smile
They have husks that are tough 
And when shucked the silk and shucks will make you tell

Yeah, I've ran through the fields 
Playing hide and seek
The itch form those husks --
Sure did make me shriek...

Ahh… Shucks... I guess you're right Mama
You don't have to worry about me
With great bliss--I promise you this... 
I'll never make love in a cornfield.

Comments:  The lesson was corny but true to form as I will never make love nor hide in a 
field of corn -- ears and all 0;-)

Details | Couplet | |

First Couplet

Couplets are intense
Because they're condensed.

Details | I do not know? | |

sinking verse

the Poetaster
syllabic bastard
quoth the poet, 

thine versifier
pathos bathos 
pathetic liar

rhymester runes
huckster tunes
hurry! hurry! hurry!

here's more of rhyme
no worry...or sublime
sub-worse verse

© Goode Guy 2011-09-27,_Or_the_Art_of_Sinking_in_Poetry

Details | Bio | |

I. U. D.

Another tom tale of madness, and a true story.

I have some health issues,
One is Ventricular Fibrillation,
A life threatening heart condition,
But, if truth be told,
An even more serious rendition
Is Advanced Stupidity,
I'm master of fools,
My supposedly high IQ
The most useless of tools,

I have an implant in my heart
To keep me alive,
You'd think such a thing,
I'd know like my wife

But stupidity is strong,
As a trait can surely be,
And I am an example,
For all others to see

Last time to the hospital,
I trip I know all too well,
They asked me at once,
What's up Mr. Bell?

I kind of get confused,
With all the acronyms
So I told them that I
Had not quite resolved

I had an I.U. D., I said
Thinking this was quite right,
And was quite surprised,
At the instant sight

Everyone smiled,
Or laughed out loud,
Seemed I was missing
The humor in this crowd...

It was not a heart implant
But I guess you already know
Goes to show you,
What a big shmoe...

They all had a laugh,
At my expense,
I hadn't a clue,
It didn't make sense....

Till someone did clue me,
What I had said,
I covered my head with sheets,
And wished I was dead!

Details | Free verse | |

Broken Promises

The spirit of the age has tempered vile degrade
In desolation it's will torn wild
We send vomit into letters exposed to loosened fetters
Erupted in mass chaos in its plausible quest
The more we want so the more we in turn invest
We wait in idol fancy as some lost souls in Sid & Nancy
We hurt then tie the tube getting loose lube filled with screws
We plummage into a violent existance isn't it relevant?
We think were alone yet we never are cause God is still in charge
In social regard toward difficult matters that appease
We lose sight of love & social need
In foot steps drawn in the sand someday we may learn & understand
In columns of rescued menure pile in its claim
The world outside is totally insane
A casual encounter with a so called friend?
The next day you got Aids, now you got pain!
The choices we make to appease the mind
In columns of choiced red, blue & brown....

Broken promises through its shattered glass filled with pain
Broken promises  can easily drive a man insane
A court jester will amuse the crowd as long as there is an occasion
Perhaps society is in need of a break on a long awaited vacation?
Closed minded sentiments filled in vile affection
The novice gets hungry stops at his local 7 eleven
Promises made in the dark have come full circle into the light
Broken Promises with advant garde choices made in the night
Elaborate decorum in want of passage;
We last a minute & grieve as the savage!

Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Dance ... ' (Part 2 of 2)

‘ The  Dance … ’

Oh … How I Love To Dance
Why … Do I Love To Dance ? …
Its Rhythmic … Its Ritual
… The Body is So Beautiful ! …

Once … I Saw The Ocean Groove
… That’s The Way, I Want to Move
Earth-Spinning, Round and Round
Don’t You Know … We All Get Down ?

Don’t You Know, What The Good-Book Says
‘God’ … Moves in Mysterious Ways
That Is Why I Love To Dance …
… His Empire, Moves In Elegance !

Lord, Have Mercy, Keep Moving Me
Moving and Grooving, to Your Glory !
Blood-Flowing, Lung – Breathe
‘ The Spirit ‘, is Zooming … You Better Believe !

( Just Look At It Move ‘His’ Girl, MoonBee !_

Acrobat, Hip-Hop, Ballet
Art of Tap, Polka, Reggae’
You Can Do It !… I Know You Can
Just Listen, To That Bible – Band ! …

Music … Just Adds Motivation
Stirs A Soul To Celebration
Dancing … is A Declaration
We’re On Cruise-Control, In His Creation !

Dancing … Can Be A Holy Act
God, and His Son … Like It, Like That
So, Nod Your Head … Do The Wave
Signal ! … You Want To Be Saved !

Don’t Be Shy … At Situation
Meet Me At ‘ The Revelation’
They’re Opening Up, The Garden – Gate
… Hurry Now … Don’t Be Late !

Cherubs, gonna’ Let Us In
No Cover Charge … Bring A Friend
Oh ‘Son of God’ … Please Partner Me
… Dance Me To Eternity !

Oh, How I Love To Dance
It’s A Rhythm – Romance
Passion – Performance
Yes Lord … I Love To Dance

Dance! … into Eternity
Dance! … Better Than A Fantasy
Dance! … Universal Dance Floor
Dance! … Don’t You Wanna’ Dance Some More ?

Dance ! … Now, Can’t You See ? …
Dance ! … We Gon’   P a r t y !
Dance With This Girl, thru The Galaxy
Dance With The Stars and The Only MoonBee

Boys Shout ! … ‘Bring On The Dancing Girls !’
God’s Making A Wonder World
Them … Us … You … and Me …
Still Moving … To His Mystery !

           Now Dance ….

Details | Rhyme | |

T'was The Night Of Thanksgiving

(Humorous silly holiday poem)

T'was the night of Thanksgiving,and I couldn't just fall asleep
I tried everything I knew,even trying to count  some dumb sheep,
But nothing happened and I was getting more angry and mad at myself,
The leftovers were still on my mind and my stomach went just bleat!

I jumped over my bed and I raced to the door with all my power and might,
And right in the kitchen I landed,where some food was still on sight,
My heart beat it so fast like a train gone bad,when I saw all the turkey leftover galore,
White and dark meat were waiting there just for me, to my profounded delight!

There was cranberry sauce,apple pie and the most wonderfully sweet, pumpkin pie!
My heart aglowed and my mouth watered all over in front of all this sight,
For there I saw some chocolate pudding just sitting upon  a tray,
So I gobbled and gobbled, till I thought I couldn't see another new day!

I felt myself swelling up all the sudden, right to the size of the house!
Then I heard this  terrible noise,and I've just burst and rip off my blouse!
As I went off straight to the ceiling like a Speeding Gonzalez balloon!
I felt again so sick and so big as I went flying right past the face of the moon

But I still managed to YEEELLL to everyone in the whole town,
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!and pass me all your chocolate PUDDING! Please!



Dorian Petersen Potter
aka laydp2000


Details | Epigram | |

Catch As Catch Can (Epigram)

Roy sought to catch himself the lil greased sow…
‘Til old boar caught and made him holler~ Ouch!

Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Art Of Dancing ... ' (Part 1 of 2)

‘ The  Art  Of  Dancing… ’

Oh ! … How I Love To Dance
Why… Do I Love To Dance ? …
… it’s Rhythmic … it’s Ritual
The Body Is So Beautiful !

Oh ! … How I Love To Dance
Why … Do I Love To Dance ? …
If You’re Breathing – You Ain’t Still
Check Your Heartbeat and It Will …

Dance … Into A Fantasy
Virtual Reality
Dancing Makes Me Feel So Free
… Come and Do A Dance With Me

Dancing … is Good Exercise
Dancing … Adds A Spice to Life
Dancing … is A Natural High
You Can Do It … If You Try …

… Head, Shoulders, Legs, Feet
Get ‘em Moving to The Beat
Back, Arms, Hands, Hips
Shake, Stomp, Slide, Slip

Bend, Bop, Break, Bounce
Push, Pull, Prance, Pounce
Soul-Roll, Slow, Fast
Jump, Jiggle … All That Jazz !

Dancing … is A Form of Joy
Do It ! … Baby Girl and Boy
Keep The Music, Playing Please
Honey … Just Look At Your Knee !

When I Dance … I Come Alive !
Waltz, Cha-Cha, Swing, Jive
Circle, Square, Line, Freestyle
Tango, or Step – Side to Side

Innocent – Interaction
Expression – Satisfaction
Set-it-in Motion … You and I
… Aaw, Just Look At That Guy

Oh ! … I See You’re Moving Now !
… thought You Didn’t Know How ?
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! … He! He! He! …
You Dance ‘bout as Good as Me ! …

Supper-Club, or in My Room
At Your House … or Under The Moon
If I Hear A Real-Good Tune …
You Will Know, I’m Dancing Soon

… Dance … Into A Fantasy
         Virtual Reality
Dancing Makes Me Feel So Free
… Come Dancing Now … With The MoonBee

Posted for:  Jared Pickett, ‘Cause I Know
       He Loves To Dance… (Smile)


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Fallen Rogue......entry into contest, Act 1 Scene 1

     He sits and mourns and weeps within the Willow trees.  A sodden forlorn form, 
alone in his own company.  bemoaning fate as destiny's joke.  While keeping in his 
cups.  An addled mind won't show the truth of how he was taken in by a trollop.  
Immune he thought his senses be to the wiles of a womens ways.  For was he not the 
one who always had his heart intact at the end of the day?  
     But sly as night her temptations were.  With each smile and bat of an eye.  Her 
gowns were designed to tease a glimpse.  Of what lay beneath when she disrobed at 
night.  She coyly watched from behind her fan as he went slowly insane.  With a need 
to kiss her red rose lips an add her to his fame.  He bet all the men at his Club that 
he'd have her in a fortnight.  They gladly took his wager, cheering on that she'd put up 
a fight.
     He took her riding in Hyde Park and to the theaters and brunch.  Presented her with 
diamond pins, ruby eardrops, necklaces and such.  She played the game so cunningly 
with smiles and gentle touches.  Unspoken promises of passionate nights.  She had him 
in her clutches.  Then came the night that she gave in.  Not once did he think of bets 
while in her bed.  No, the mighty Rogue was well and trapped.  His heart new it was love 
before his head.
     He lied to his chums and paid dearly.  For he could not publicize it so.  he loved the 
woman more than money.  His ego he let take a heavy blow.  He lavished his first and 
only fiance with all she could ever want.  Money to buy her wedding trousseau and a 
home on West Hillary Blunt.
     It was a sad day for all mankind when he stood alone at the alter.  She was already 
half way to Paris, France.  His new found faith in love began to falter.  How could he, 
The Rogue Supreme, have fallen when he should have been dallying?  He was tempted 
by fates first taste of trust.  Brought low by loves sweet calling\center>

"Act one Scene one" contest
Placement: 4th place

Details | I do not know? | |

i'm not a thug

i been in shoot outs 
almost left for dead 
not once did i 
i'm a thug
drunk to the bottle was 
not once did i scream 
i was a thug 
smoke to my eyez was half pass 
still not a trace 
now you threw on a durag 
and hat heard your latest
rap cd 
now look at your face

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Shakespeare's Nightmare

Poor William turns and moans within his grave:
Within a phrase, one simple turn can bind
the most creative stirrings of the mind
and poet to cliché becomes a slave.
Exist but in uniqueness and repent
for rhyming verse you penned with “love” and “dove”
and last week’s sonnet found “push comes to shove” - 
the future of our language I lament…

But surely, there must be another choice
than bland insertions placed but for the rhyme
which, with their frequency, are meaningless.
‘Tis poet death to speak with borrowed voice – 
transcend the obvious to reach sublime,
allow poor William his most peaceful rest.

Details | Free verse | |

The Rebooting Boogie

Late one night
I decided to write...
While musing in silence
My computer was in defiance

As I scooted to the keys
My thoughts began to be un-eased
As the program stood still
I kept rebooting until~

I realized what was happening
That ole boy needed new programming
He kept doing the rebooting boogie
‘Til every virus was gleaned, and tossed away-- Happily
There’ll be no more of that boogying today

Details | I do not know? | |

The Heartist

You feel it in every sentence

You wear it on your sleeve

You paint with it, long strokes and curves 

You sing with shades of passion and
You feel it shudder with every shadowy footfall echoing out of sight

You counterfeit it and shout the news from rooftops
You place it in a flag

You write it into every verse
You feel it beat with foreign rhythm
You feel safe when it knows the key

You colour phrases and it beats a rainbow in the roof of your mouth
You pay with it for every botched line and dropped note

You choose to paint your heart on your sleeve
Your curse; to bear it for all to see

Details | Rhyme | |

Flickering Flame

You dance around my flickering flame..
You joust with a slight breeze, who will win this game?
Your hypnotic yellow hue...
Draws my eyes entranced upon you...
Blue dances rings around you my hypnotic friend..
Dancing on my senses an aroma fills the air of a cinnamon spice blend.
I inhale the goodness with a vigor of might!
Oh, how my senses are swimming in a pool of delight!
As the night finishes filling up the room..
I blow you out gingerly your fragrance still looms.
I drift off peacefully closing my eyes shut.
Until morning, the night encompasses me up.

Details | Free verse | |

God tastes like snackcakes

caught beneath a nautilus
rudders spinning, cutting my breath
into bubbles that pop on the surface
i never thought i'd get my wish
when i asked to taste the dead sea

salt and spit and sweat and piss
i'm drowning in all of it
head beneath the waves
staves prickling from each and every crayfish
coral reef scraping my flesh
and nobody sees me waving wildly
i'll die before i sleep with fishes
i laugh at the contradiction
then slowly float backwards
head collapsed from pressure
eyes swollen shut from sodium
cuts in the splint of the fissure

spasms in my side
my heart begins to quake
that's when i died and found out
god tastes like...

(okay, so i'm offered a snackcake... and i give a polite "no thanks." i then get this 
strange retort in effect. i couldn't get it out of my head all day.)

Details | I do not know? | |

if heaven only knew?

how i norma jay felt about you;thered be no earthly struggles or wars on higher 
plains;theyd be nothing but angels galloping in and out of the rain of a cloudy 
dispelled sky;if heaven only knew my international poetry ladys name;but they 
sang it out loudly and broadcastingly,then they came to shout it out on our 
land;just the same was it you! they stated in a live reframe;who is the one norma 
jays loves so truley,she has wrote it in her own blood,sweat and her rendered 
weeping tear stains;if heaven only knew!how i felt about you;life would'nt be so 
tough at now would of it,they the members there should of 
rearange her brokened harp toward a different view;mr delrick;hum!

Details | Free verse | |


long lines of lights lining up and lighting up
the midnight asphalt that drives me
in shear exileration I accelerate
jocking for position like in a steeple chase
blurring images of lost faces
as I pass you by on my 8 cylinder high
wind whipping around no cop to be found
pushing the limit to warp speed
to fulfill my urges and needs
giving away to all my lust
caked on with highway dust
rolling thunder tway to quick to ever rust
as I turn it on filled with lust
high volt energy pulsing through
pounding faster than my heart 
leaving you behind from the very start
better luck next time
 hear them wind chimes
that's the sound of my sonic boom burying you in smoke
your ride is so pathetic what a joke

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Please Note

Please email all challenge response to, as well as 
posting,  thanks

Details | Carpe Diem | |

the ultimate makeover: how to make your money right

God is the ultimate source of all that you will need
He can give you your heart's desire, just abide by Him in deed
but the real heart of the matter is where your treasures lie
should also be the place where your heart resides

according to the book of Malachi, 
the last prophet in the Old Testament
the church's money was not right  for the congregation 
would not contribute towards the rent
whenever you worship in any house of God, 
you must comprehend and see
that it's the members tithes and offerings 
that maintain the church's property
Malachi had been sent to tell the members 
about the Lord God's command
they then rebelled, and became disobedient
falling short of God's master plans

yet all that you think you own
really belongs to the Lord God
and you have been blessed 
with what you possess
only because of His regards
If your money is not right
It might be because of your behavior
by not following God's Commands 
to  tithe and atone for Jesus Christ the savior
just repent to the Lord God
and confess that you have been remiss
for your money might not get right until
you abide by His promises
just give the Lord His tithes
and offerings that are always due
and only ten percent 
is what He does ask of you
then He will open the windows of heaven
to let blessings come down in abundancy
give as has been given to you
reciprocate God's generosity
understand that disobedient, 
rebellious and unyielding minds
will not prosper not be profitable 
when dealing with God's Kind
for obedience and sacrifice 
will lead you to God's milk and honey
but if you continue to selfish
then your money will stay funny

so whenever you receive a word from God
just do as He expects
sacrifice, compromise
and don't forget to sign the check
the ultimate makeover
having your finances 
come to God's sight
give as the Lord God gave to you
and then your money might get right

Details | Light Poetry | |

Pork Chop's Bleu's

Pork Chop sat at the table
Cornbread joined him too…
Waiting for Tee-Lee to pick Cecile,
So all could entertain with their muse…
Tee-Lee began to pick Cecile, 
Cornbread caught up with his muse ~
Pork Chop stood up on his heels…
All whirled in time to Cecile’s tunes;
And wailed to the Pork Chop bleu’s…

Details | Free verse | |

Cranberry Float (part2)I

time has no meaning here
all about is tidings and cheer
our team always win
and the wind keeps the kites high
the grass cut and green
the lake blue and serene
soccer moms and toddlers toddling
while dads encourage
at finale at last 
we run to to the square for a blast
we eat our burgers with cheese
and double malted shakes apease
but not for me the only thing that satisfies
is a cranbery float
whilst listening the juke box boom
and watching as everthing pulses in the room

Details | I do not know? | |

Concert Band

The concert Band 
A work of reeds, air, and hands 
Reading sheet music isn’t easy
And our uniforms are anti-sleazy
All instruments must be in tune and time
Otherwise we sound like a broken chime

The flutes sound sweet and dainty – like a fairy 
A piccolo can go so high it’s scary
Our key of music is set in the key of C 
When we are in tune we sound so pretty

Clarinets are reeded 
When they squeak, earplugs are needed.
They play way too soft; you must strain to hear
And you have to be quite nearfor that my dear

Saxophones are loud, reeded, and sqeaky
Sometimes they can be quite spit leaky
Those sweaty neckstraps are almost like ties
You could wear it with a suit and look like one of those classy rich guys

Trumpets range in color - silver or gold
Their sound is quite bold
They have valves of three
And all the fingerings are quite easy

French Horns are very hard to play 
Tis hard to get the note you want to stay
You have to put your hand in the bell
The smell is totally not swell

Then the oboe and the bassoon. 
Oboe sound high and sqeaky, and the bassoon sounds like a loon
Both reeds are double and small
And they arent quiet at all

Percussion is the busiest part to every band
They dont use air or reed; they use thier hands
They keep the tempo for the most part of the time
All of the precussion instruments cost one thousand times a dime

Trombones are made of brass and a slide
If they're loud, your hearing is fried
Stand to close, you'll get hit
Ive heasrd that hurts quite a bit

Without the conductor. we wouldn't be a band
They can change tempo with a flick of a hand
They control everything; we bow to your wow
They tell us where to end and when to play now

Details | Rhyme | |

The Gothic Perfumer

The dear old heart had an infectious laugh.
He'd capture the hearts of many a fair
maiden with his Baroque style and charm.
Like the magician uncle in the Narnia
books he'd be mixing and brewing potions
till the wee hours of the morning.
Fine port,Ramstein + Greek music blaring 
from the stereo.
White fluffy dogs + white cat matched the
Maestro's own Riccoco coiffure.
His guest waiting list was as long as
the red logie carpet.
Admiring female fans would always try to
take  over his lab to sharpen it.
Till someone once said "Dear Sir would
you ever find the right partner and 
settle down?"
With a twinkle in his eye and a little
Smile he said "Of course!"and gave a
little Buddha bow.

Details | Free verse | |

Halloween Party?

I don't know where we all live, but if concievable, how about a Hallowen dress up
Party?  Kids, spouses, maybe s even music.  Maybe a prize for best constume. 
And some of my "schtick!"  Let me know

Details | Rhyme | |


shoes pants and a tie to match
I buy all my clothes in a batch
to the 70's I escape through my  hatch

for purple is my merit
for this color I shall inherit
to this hue I shall give credit

the color of royalty
of pomp and circumstance and nobility
to private seclusion even during mobility

so cheers I say
and hold my sway
I am victorious today

for in the end
success is around the bend
and of course I mean to offend
for I will not blend

Details | ABC | |

Some Would Say

sometimes it comes to me  
and it flows so naturally 
like rolling off the tip of my tongue
and that's when you can just
write and write 
without much thought 
but then there's the times 
you have to dig and dig
and it's a fight 
but finally you come up 
with something to write
and in your mind
hey this is a delight 
but what about others
and their insight
some would say i could use
a shrink 
tell me folks what do you think
or did you miss it
when you blinked

Details | Free verse | |



David, all others fail to 
capture my gaze in the ways 
that your physique does.

Your rounded muscles 
and strong upper thighs 
lead my eyes to somewhere 
above the thighs,
where what hangs 
so blissfully, 
is such a wonder 
to my young girly eyes.

Never have I seen 
such a mysterious sight, 
for it's usually covered 
with a loin cloth.
You've shed light
on a lot for me today.

So glad I made this trip 
to Florence, Italy; 
it was worth the jet lag 
that made my nine year old 
eyes sag.

Not all of the little girls 
back home will believe 
what I saw, 
when Mom's 
back was turned!
Chao, David.

Details | Blank verse | |

Running with Scissors

The alphabet but has held true
you get the paper I'll get the glue
clipping and shaving spreading everywhere
giggles and laughs seaping through fingers
the hushing back and forth
don't wake mom
don't make a mess
don't run with scissors
for all those rules we had to break
for that defines what a child is all about
a surprise for her from us
to give her a smile that will make her bust
for everyday is mother's day
when your child runs with scissors
creating something new
something old
something blue
a perfect marriage of innocence and youth
a match made in heaven
for it is but a blessing to have children 

Details | I do not know? | |


I expose the words 
that are within
by the flow of my pen 
my writing is not a sin
can you comprehend
where I've been
I'm just being me
This is how I feel free
from all the pain
and life's games
I need to
let IT OUT 
In the open
All of my commotion 
this is my daily notion
poetry is my devotion 

Details | Alliteration | |

Cranbery Float (part3)

Can you feel the awe in the air
caressing all with it's range
catering to the joys of this earthly paradise
created in the mind of it's author
care free children frolicking to and fro
capturing the sun in a tall glass of juice to sweeten it more
cranbery floats are best on these days

Details | I do not know? | |

Guess Who I Am

I can make beautiful words of the top of my head
or erasing what could be wrong instead
so slinder but so full of oppurtunities
writing songs, Or drawing seas
I can create beautiful works of art
Though I am broken easy I am very sharp
Maybe Im not the best looking to some
but I can work with anyone even a bum

Details | Free verse | |

She Likes It Big & Long

she asked me
was it big: 
(being the man that I am)
i said it was.

she asked me
was it long:
i said looong enough,
to satisfy her
plus two of her girl friends.

and if… she had any doubts
about it,
that she was welcome to
come to my house,
to see how large
it really was.

when she came over,
i dived right in it.

both of us
was totally satisfied-
back strokin’,

swimming in my
newly built…
swimming pool.

Details | Free verse | |

Sidewalk Scribbles

CJ scrawls out
his initials
saying in black ink
this is his turf.

I dare not step
on the 4-letter word
engraved in stone
lest it ruin my day.

Some sweet child of God
writes, "GOD IS GOOD"
all over the park
in pink chalk.

Lovers carve
their lettered kisses
into hearts
set in stone
that make me smile;
love is such
a happy thing!

The dog left
thankfully only

Mother Nature
dropped some leaves
to imprint themselves
upon the walk.

I haven't left my mark

maybe I will tomorrow.


Details | I do not know? | |

The stage plan

Roaming in the ropes

Lubing like the tokes

Aging like the folks

We will to get hard before blasting into the remote

New ground that you tweet about

About a stout boy, 
level headed,
awaits his crown

Disastrously loud

Prays of nights that go by days when there are no clouds
-or an enlightened language moving along by a count

Details | Burlesque | |

Man Hater

In a world of men she has her misery
she prays for our deaths nightly
all there is to blame
is all in a name
from the declining of our education
to the West Nile Virus
she blames 
when she sees a temptress catching eyes on a magazine
or a dead body in a ravine
expired warranty on a machine
she screams
when a war breaks out
when someone hair falls out
she screams 
every pot hole is our fault
every locked vault
control we seek
and keep women meek
if it's trendy and sheik
she blames 
if it's falls apart or stalls
if it breaks in two or three
look out you better flee
for here she comes to kill us all
she screams
to all the  tire recalls
for all short waterfalls
from stale donuts
to the Mets being in a rut
she screams 

Details | I do not know? | |


mmm mmm mmm (shaking head)

Caramel chocalate brown mocha girl got my head spinnin like a
Went nautious as I saw this
chic with flawless skin often in
the mall walkin talkin street slang
like she stayed by a ghetto park bench.
Smiling as her
light shade of Mabalene covered her soft lips
playing with her sister locks so casually
"Why you starin at shawty like dat?"
He said,
"This sista's official,
makes me wanna grab a pencil
as she poses frozen by the river
and draw a picture.
Then take that picture, to Walmart
scan it to cd and stare at her
on my computer pixels."
and I said,
"Mister you trippin..."
I think I'll just ask for a kiss. Just one kiss.

Details | Rhyme | |

Inside A Drum

I dreamt of a washing machine,
In colours so obscene,
Of shades of caffeine,
It washed everything that was clean,
To a shiny muddy unclean,
It was part of it's routine,
It was never to fond of hygiene,
I found an old tureen,
In gross shades of lime-green,
With a three feet sardine,
And I counted one of sixteen,
Tiny little soybean,
I found something murine,
Frosting sunscreen,
A pair of nankeen,
And jeans that were lean,
With a 10 pound bean,
Covered in fleshy dentine,
As well crushed strychnine,
Mixed in with liquid morphine,
With a hint of codeine,
To create a used vaccine,

I excavated further into the drum,
My left shoe stepped into gum,
My hands found bottles of rum,
As well a skull of a pilgrim,
A sock with a 44 magnum,
Guarding the used sock kingdom,
Hear muses singing like a threesome,
The kingdom’s national anthem,
I saw a shadowy possum,
Come out of a rectum,
And I became bum,
When it proposed a threesome
Between it ,me and my right thumb,
I started to have a symptom,
That began to blossom
And needed a valium,
Or a serum,
To rid of this irksome,
Three things made up an outcome,
I had a possum,
Who thinks is handsome,
My thumb,
Excess sucking of sheer gruesome,
Melting feelings to a num,
And pressing against my sternum
And now I feel really dumb,
Stuck inside a drum

Details | Blank verse | |

Comic Book Tripper(revisited)

     Comic book tripper
where are you coming from
   Did the colors delight
you and are you ready 
    Meant for kids - but otheres delight in them, too
          Comic book tripper -
the world needs you

Details | Rhyme | |

Last Night

 Last night I forgot to love you, and you weren't 
 in my dreams
 I didn't feel your arms around me, as funny as
 it seems
 Last night I forgot to miss you, and my heart 
 felt just fine
 I didn't want to hear your voice, since you are 
 no longer mine
 Last night I forgot your smile, and the funny things
 you used to do
 I didn't have to pretend to be happy, since I know
 longer love you
 Last night I forgot how good it felt just to have 
 you there 
 I didn't have to think of the times I knew you'd 
 always care
 Last night I forgot you had my heart at one time,
 even if no one ever knew
 I didn't want to believe I could hurt, since there is 
 no me and you 
 Because I didn't want to remember you told me we should 
 just be friends 
 I didn't act like pain absorbed me, though I wonder 
 if my heart will ever mend

Details | I do not know? | |


He had playful brown eyes,
He was gentle, he was kind
The diamond in the rough,
I have always wanted to find

He is divine

He is the red that blazes across the summer sky
Walking along the ocean shore
There is no one I am missing more
Our fingers entwined, 
My heart beating faster all the time
Our feet sinking deep, into the sand
I lay you down, and kiss you softly without a sound
An echo in my ears, as my heart pounds
Your lips, my desire
Drink deep

My cheeks burn as if they are on fire.
Shivering, and shaking as you take my hand
As your warm kisses linger at the nape of my neck
Deeper in your pleasure I slowly drown

Details | Sonnet | |

All Fool's Day Sonnet

The wolves are out howling at the full moon
Jokesters are next and will be here real soon
I am holding tight to my silver spoon
See you in Dodge City when it’s high noon

My heart skipping and jumping as it beats
Knowing this day will be a fancy treat
Some folks are waiting to turn up the heat
I like this day because it is so neat

All Fool’s Day is remembered far and wide
With a smile I think I will stay inside
My heart will sing and also try to hide
Whisper All Fool’s Day and stand by my side

The wolves are out howling at the moon
Jokesters are next and will be coming soon!

Details | Pantoum | |

Pantoum Echo

As I scream into the bottomless pit.
Echo! Of my voice comes back to me.
My heart rings as the repetition hits
My ears see my voice which I have screamed.

Echo! Of my voice comes back to me.
Again I grin at my "hello" remark. 
My ears see my voice which I have screamed.
As I call to myself from the endless dark. 

Again I grin at my "hello" remark.
Can I catch my voice as it come speeding by?
As I call to myself from the endless dark
Again an echo, to catch I'll try. 

Can I catch my voice as it come speeding by?
"Good-by" I scream as "hello" hits my ears.
Again, an echo, to catch I'll try.
To catch an echo, I can not, I fear!

"Hello" I scream as "good-by" hits my ears.
My heart rings as the repetition hits!
To catch an echo I can not, I fear!
As I scream into the bottomless pit.

Details | Concrete | |

French Distortion Times Three

Cool, sweet distortion is what I crave.
The sweet French variety,
fat olives in abundance,
always serve best.
of the
to just melt away
after just one of these magic potions.

“Shaken, not stirred,” was Bond’s steady reply.
What an ingenious answer to
the action and intrigue.
Even the slope
of the
reminds me of a topless, 
passionate woman, ready to ease my pain.

Yes, you can keep all your bliss of the inferior.
I take my chilled relief of reality
with olives or onions.
I’m very easy
to please.
and it must by all means
be thoroughly of the French variety.

Details | Burlesque | |

Tom's Satirical Forms of Poetry

all you serious, and formally  trained poets, please excuse my satire, but a guy 
born in Brooklyn NY, (me)- really gets a kick out of this somewhat pretentious 
classification system for something, to me, is as simple as merely conveying a 
thought, emotion, idea, image, etc.  If it ain't natural, it ain"t real.  Don't get mad at 
me, I'm obviously "mad" already!!
ABC Verse-(poems written or performed on Sesame Street?)
Carpe  Diem-(an ex-Vietnamese leader who happed to be a fish?)
Chastushka-(an old, heavy Russian woman yenta?) (or the headscarf she 
wears?) (or another Russian forrest comet strike?)
Cinquain- (a man made and manufactured maleria med, given in 5 parts?)
Classicism- (an exorcism for a classy person?)
Cherihew- (a French axe for lovers?)
Concrete- (a Mafia burial material?)
Couplet- (2 lovers allowed to "do their thing"?)
Cowboy- (a hybrid mix of a young male human and a domestic female cattleof 
genus Bos?)
Crystalline- (stalagnites, or expensive young female stemware?)
Diamantie- (a new Honda auto?)
Didactic- (a guy who finally cleans his attic?)
Diminished Hexaverse- (a witch's evil spell spoken in a poetic manner in a very 
soft voice?)
Dizain- (either a hair restoration product prone to make the user dizzy, a 
deceased Jazz musician, or a new cleaning product introduced by, yes, you got it -
Billy Mays!!!!)
Dodoitsu- (a new form of Japanese martial art created specifically for the near-
extinct Do-Do bird?)

More to come.............

Details | Free verse | |

Art for Art's Sake?

But even a poet must eat to survive, I had to forcefully declare, 
Unfazed by an old friend’s insistence to write just for art’s sake; 
Gone are the days when poets created just for the sake of creating 
And past are the times when art and economics were mortal enemies, 
So the artist must grab all opportunities to profit from his artistic abilities. 

Milton and Shakespeare might have written just for the sheer love of writing
And Poe wrote Annabel Lee only for the sound of the beautiful maiden’s name;
In this age of high inflation, skyrocketing costs of oil and every prime commodity, 
Sorry, buddy, art for art's sake just would not cut it for poor poetic-capitalistic me! 

Details | I do not know? | |

In love with a Rolls-Royce

(This is a fictional poem)

A man fell in love with his brand new Rolls-Royce.
But he soon made a very bad choice.
He thought kissing a car would be the same as kissing a woman but he soon 
learned it was not.
He french kissed the tailpipe right after driving his Rolls and a third degree burn 
was what he got.
It hurt so much that it reduced this idiot to tears.
His mouth got burned so bad that he couldn't taste for an entire year.

Details | Burlesque | |

Counting Sheep

I once had a sleeping problem so bad
I tried every drug my Dr had
so a friend says to me 
away you must go and flee
count sheep 
and fall asleep
so to the country I went
used my last of money I spent
found a farm
and I swear I did no harm
I counted the sheep
with no noise or even a peep
I counted the whites
then the blacks
this should take away my plight
and give me my sleeping nights back
then I counted the spotted
and even the dotted
but it did not work
for I feel that they plotted
I wrenched my shirt til it was all knotted
cried so hard til shepherd heard me
he gave chase 
all the way to my place
where he knocked me out
and put me to sleep in a fast pace

Details | I do not know? | |


Bear was a dog with silver eyes,
And a heart as lovable as all.
An over grown puppy was this canine,
But his love was ten feet tall

Good old bear was a rather big dog,
But he also looked scary as well.
He wouldn’t bite a biscuit, and hardly a flea
And he was always wagging his tail.

The only thing that bear would bite,
Was an onion and croutons it’s true
He wasn’t your typical German Sheppard  
He would do the things only Bear would do.

I was chilling out at the house one day,
When a delivery man in the driveway pulled up,
He honked his horn, I went outside,
He was scared of that overgrown pup.

Bear was sitting outside his van
Looking at him with those big silver eyes.
He was panting and drool was everywhere,
But I guess he was tricked by his size.

Yes, Bear was a dog, with big silver eyes,
And a heart that was better that gold.
He would do the funniest things of all
The funniest things that on a dog be told.

Details | Nonet | |

Stage -What

An impressionist  took to the floor. 
‘Til the real deal gave him what for, 
then began playing the lute
Dressed in a cute zoot suit. 
And cool ‘gaitor shoes 
was clowned 
and left 

Details | I do not know? | |


Can a person write a poem,
About nothing,like this?

But it does provide a question,
And a point you cannot miss.

Can a poem be of something,
Saying nothing at all?

Or is it like a message,
Like writings on the wall?

Will it guide you through the day,
Or release your darkest fear?

Is this poem all for nothing,
Or is there something here?

Details | Burlesque | |

I've Had Enough!!

I'm sick, I'm tired,
I've had enough.....
of "truth" and of lies....
I've been poked, prodded,
tested and bested,
festered, rested,
sequestered, requested,
wester'd, vested,
pestered, wrested....
and once, nearly arrested....
I've been analyzed,
crystallized, mesmerized,
pulverized, traumatized
criticized, idolized,
poked in the eyes,,
I've baked bad pies,
rid of flies,
immortalized, cloisterized,
checked for lies, realized,
utilized, memorized,
fantasized, exercised,
launderized, manipulized,
anesthetized, categorized,
demonized, nebulized,
pulverized, atomized,
vulcanized, deputized,
westernized, circumcised,

but now I have realized,
I see the world 
in different eyes,
than those who call it
a pack of lies,
and if one really tries,
you can see what
a simple word buys,
not a burger and some fries,
but joy, laughter, insight
and possibly cries.

please don't bother to spell-check me,
I don't use it, I don't use the rhyme dictionary,
(allright, but just twice...)  you get what
you see... right or wrong
it will be what it will be...

Details | Free verse | |

The Art of Conversation

This is the beginning 
an introduction to what i have to say 
Here, I'll throw in another descriptive line 
to back it up. 
Continually flowing 
from one line to the next 
A certain thought, or feeling 
I am writing to express. 

Should I start over? 
Or are you still following along? 
The art of conversation is complicated 
when you have nothing to agree upon. 

This is where I begin again 
going over past thoughts 
now my feelings have been expressed. 
Perhaps this time I'll be more descriptive 
for sometimes vague leaves people offended. 
Just bare with me patiently 
as i keep the theme intended 
hang on as you continually understand me 
and then try not to forget. 

Should I start over? 
because you haven't cut me off yet 
The art of conversation is difficult 
if one is boringly intense. 

This is where I throw you off 
from finding the real meaning intended 
perhaps continuing with some imaging 
selecting proper euphemism 
leaving the ending another viewpoint to ponder 
another subject awaiting your decision. 

Unfortunately these are my disorganized thoughts 
as I continually look for your code to be deciphered.

Details | Free verse | |

Page 69

Honey, let’s take a trip
….to the bed, away 
From the lights and sound of home cinema;
And there, I’ll read you, with passion
This rare book I chanced upon
at a local bookstore, when I was 
Looking for Apollinaire.

This book is about Kama Sutra
And it speaks about love,
With vivid illustrations of each techniques; 
It says, it’ll teach us how to be patient… 
On exploring ourselves;
And interestingly, without the dire need 
Of taking…you know…the viagra.

This book will consume us,
Approximately, forty five minutes or less;
It has 70 pages that will, surely, soak 
The dryness of our life.

Ok my dear, just don’t start on page 69!

Details | Narrative | |

My Little World


I feel so small,
   In the spectrum of it all.
No more important than a mere speck of dust,
   Lost in this matrix with no one to trust.
With no will to climb higher, 
    Scared of being burnt as I near the flames of the fire.
All trust has vanished throughout time,
    Putting your trust in another can often leave you feeling like slime.
Emotions can only blind you,
    And keep you from doing the things you need to do.
Your heart is your most tender of garments, 
    Especially when worn on your sleeve exposed for all to torment.
And if exposed for too long it is said it will turn to the hardest of stone,
    Isolation is wrong for the heart can’t stand to be left all alone.
So there we go again the circle is complete,
    Trust or isolation without companionship we’ve met defeat.
And without trust no companionship will be had,
    So forget what I just said I think I’ve just gone mad.
A white coat a padded room, 
    A safe place for brilliant minds to bloom.
It’s never to late to get it right,
    At least that’s what my doctor tells me most every night.
Said my mind just needed a rest,
     As he shows me pictures for some kind of test.
See ya later,
     Irish tater.

Details | Free verse | |

Crooked crooks, babbling brook

In this crooked chair i sit
at this crooked table
at this crooked desk
and write my crooked thoughts
looking out the crooked window
out onto the crooked crooked street
thinking about how crooked the world is
when suddleny is top and realise
the crooked people arent crooks
everything is crooked
crooked jails
crooked hospitlas
crooked business men lawyers and politiicians
crooked churches crooked steeples
crooked believers crooked people

it was perfect perfect and crooked
crookedly perfect
perfect people
perfect houses
perfect airplanes
and perfect yachts
perfect make me sick 
keeping up with the joneses
perfect white teeth
perfect bodies
perfect hair
perfect health
thwey werent crooked?
were they?

croooked like me?
crooked like them crooked in a world full of rooked people and the crookedest 
thing to do was to stand straight
and make a show of it!!

whose going to replace all of this crooked ness and turn this beautiful now?

Details | Blank verse | |

The Great Escape

The confusion of the labyrinth
the edges so tall
staring up to the sky for any sign of direction
left left right left right and left again
to end where I began
lost in the middle
the treachery of the labyrinth
I thought it would be easy
to defy the maze and escape un dazed
but it I that is amazed
for I am but stuck in this haze
I text message my friends they all made it through
and yet here I am without a clue
do  I dare send for help shot up a flare
for it's not fair I have been caught in it's snare
for the lure of the maze had such flare
just to think I did on a dare
to cheat my way out I don't care
my pride is not all that important now
I wish a donkey and plow
to burrow my way through
for when your lost you know not what to do

Details | Ballad | |

The Candle

The night was creeping on the ground
She crept and did not make a sound
Until she reached the tree
She covered it and crept again
Along the grass beside the wall
I heard the rustle of her shawl
As she threw blackness everywhere
Upon the sky and ground and air
And in the room where I was hidden
But no matter what she did
To everything that was without
She could not put my candle out
So I stared at the night
And she stared back solemnly at me.

Details | Couplet | |

Poetry Vs. the Flu

My head is stuffed, my brain is fried
and still the poems wait inside, 
They leak out of my eyes and ears 
and laugh at me with grumpy jeers. 
I am a wreck, I feel so sick 
and still the poems leak and stick.  
They glue me to the creaky chair 
until I write them in the air 
and freeze them down, forever be, 
persistent friends, my poetry...

Details | Free verse | |

Cursing the harpies

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

If only you knew the satanism
I'm leading telepathicly
something none truly understand
groupings, games, how this list is a rock of dangerousness
into the future of paranoia, power, deception, and tricks
something in time

slide slippers
slide shoe
slide six slide scope 
slide shells
slide spirit slide soul 
slide prophet, trigger, miss
slide shine
slide fade
slide shhhh
slide slide slide switch
slide soap slide marbles slide slippers
the harpies hot on my trail
i run and run and
just can't shake em

all i can do is say slide sneak
slide shine
slide slide
slide note
slide scope
slide six
slide shhh

slide trigger
slide shells
slide marbles
slide soap
slide fade
and then join me
watch the satanists 
figure out witch team of saints 
wears what labels as they 
curse and bless these objects 

slide soul slide prophet slide slippers slide soap
slide shells
slide miss
slide slippers
slide marbles slide shoe
try not to laugh as these items come circling around into one hand to another
from label to another
from one destination to plane
the pieces fit
harpies on my trial
feeding on my brains
nurturing my fear
immobilizing my hopes
who know suffering is so much better

slide slide
slide shine slide fade
slide saint
slide soap 
slide slide
slide marbles slide scope slide six
slide shells
slide marbles
slide uh oh
slide miss
slide slide
slide switch
slide curse slide psychic slide prophet
slide soap, slippers, marbles

the harpies
what are the harpies?
you'll never know
if you ever find out
if you ever see in your third eye the truth of this curse
then you're just like me
and we were there sliders in a parallel universe
slide time
slide fate
slide note

slide slow
slide six
slide prophet
slide six
slide spoons
slide sox

slide scope
slide trigger
slide shells
slide shhh
slide shine
slide fade

slide switch
slide marbles
slide spoons
slide slide  note
slide slide
got him
took awhile

slide shhh
slide time slide fate
slide soap slide marbles
slide shine, fade
prophet slide marbles
slide  slide spoons

slide slide slide switch slide soul
slide spirit 
note slide pass

slide slippers

Details | ekphrasis | |


jok or a
visual poem

Ekphrasis- He ain't here by Richard Prince

Details | I do not know? | |

Starless Night: The Art Of Giving (Rhyme Incorporated) part 3

That night, vibrant Effie Blake told me “You Don’t Have To Be A Star”
To see the beauty of this world or meet Troy Nelson, of the “Dead Star”
Ahh!!! My voice need to be heard, that I wrote “To You, Mr. Apolinar” 
It’s about quest of heart and mind, of being simply “Me And The Moon”
Stressed Michele Nold had a simple request, “Where is the Bath Room”
I didn’t entertain her, for I felt dizzy coming out from “The Lost Room”

Then, I overheard grin-faced Oshin Ifedayo saying, “She’s gone at Last”
Who’s who? The “Christians, Muslims, Jews…” “Heaven Waits For Us”
A place of peace, where we can write a sonnet, of being “Home, At Last” 

So, you can tag or be tagged, in our “Starless Night: The Art Of Giving”
I agreed, with Vince Suzadail Jr., that giving’s more of a “Human Being” 
Tammy Armstrong liked the ambience, but said, “Something’s Missing”

Some didn’t come; they’re busy surfing, ‘cos “The Deep Blue Is Rough”
Historian Charles Fuller sent them a note, “I Hear You In A Photograph”
Now, I see why dear Tatiyana Carney has “Lock Box And Photographs” 

Note: I tag the first person who read this….and the last one, too.
Thanks to K.S. for encouraging me to play
And also, to C.B., for the e-mails…love the message/photos.

Details | Rhyme | |

Art Can Hurt

A wise-cracking tourist in a Greek art gallery
keeps heckling the cute curator with an inquiry;

      why, he asks her, the muscularly athletic gods
      and demigods, supposed to be sturdy like steel rods,

      often appear softy, un-masculine and are shown
      wearing skimpy, see-through clothing they've outgrown,

      as they stand, run or fight in poses effeminate:
      Zeus whimsically choosing thunderbolts from a plate,

      and god of war, Ares, striking a lethal sword blow
      with graceful arms, dainty fingers and a ballet toe;

      Apollo standing like he has just smoothly curtsied,
      as Achilles waltzes through a combat he fancied.

The irked curator says it's not her obligation
to fill the gaps in the tourist's art education !

Details | Burlesque | |

Running Shoes / Alfredo's Hideaway

wilfredo, wilfredo
now i tell you what I know
a puma is a big cat
a nike is an obsolete missile
and adidas was an ancient
Greek God, in love with himself
and for sure, shoes
don't run, people do,
and if you haven't tried
the mummy steak,
you're really missing out!!!LOL/

Details | I do not know? | |






Details | I do not know? | |

swallow your pride

you life,
is so far ahead
but your strife
is now dead

you want,
now to step aside
but it haunts
to swallow your pride

let it be free
let it all see
that the truth is into the sea

you just reprise
that it may be unwise
this is somthing you dont want to be

so swallow your pride
just swallow your pride
and dont let it hurt inside

let your pain go 
let it go slow 
and then you just wont know

now give it a try.......Swallow your pride!!!

Details | Free verse | |


Its gotten hold of me once again,
A siren call in my mind,
Its blood in my veins,
Its heart pounding in my brain!
No choice but to answer its call!!
I’m caught in its blackhole web!
My hunger has to be fed!
Its been . . . far . . . too long!

I’m a shipwrecked voyager,
Lost at sea.
I’m a butterfly moth,
Lost in the wind!
I’m a lone teardrop,
Forgotten in the rain!
The dragon has left me screaming!
A voice shrieking with the choir!
The dragon has stolen my voice!
My silent screams . . .
Sundered my soul . . .shattered my body
My body

Its gotten hold of me once again,
A siren call in my mind,
Its blood in my veins,
Its heart pounding in my brain!
No choice but to answer its call!!
I’m caught in its blackhole web!
My hunger has to be fed!
Its been . . . far . . . too long!

So it is under a blood red sky,
With my heart weighing heavily,
And my mind numb with desire,
With my quivering hands and blurred visions . . .
I turn on the television.

Details | I do not know? | |


Amazing armor apparels
An amazing apparatus
Appearing and ascending
Above all aimless attics
All are attics
After assigning apparent actions
Amongst atmospheric allies…also
Assembles and annexes an anecdote
Animals also assemble and apprehend
Any available areas
Alert and aware about alternatives,
Apportionment among animals are
Actually awesome.

Details | Free verse | |

Uninspired Still

I wanted my muse to dance with me
but I was just handed a bouquet
of artificial flowers.

Now what am I supposed to do with that!

Sheila Kathryn Barrera

Details | I do not know? | |


So many women and so little time
All will be mine
They’re ready for me now
After much consideration
After years of complication
The truth is finally told
Hopefully sold
Females that aren’t cold 
Like Eskimos in June
They all swoon 
To the poetic
The one who speaks their language 
And listens to what they say
Each different but all the same
Same makeup 
Same parts
Hippie girls like one night stands
Waitresses fall for about a year
Bartenders too smart for their own good 
Party girls never remember
Professionals are always taken
Lesbians out of reach
High school girls don’t have a clue
College girls think they do
Desperate girls will do anything
Scholars forgot how to have fun
Pretty faces are usually spoiled 
And daddy’s girls are my favorite

Details | Burlesque | |

The Night Of The Living Dread

I was in the cemetery,
With my good friend,
Johnny Morales...

Just playfully,
peeing on gravestones
and maybe tumbling
one or two...

We thought we
were so cool..
That's what idiocy
can do,
Especially when
you're a fool

Well I guess
we peed on 
one too many,
Or one that we
should have not,

Cause suddenly
the earth cracked open,
Oh my, you could 
smell the rot,

Now "pissin' off "
a dead man in his grave,
not too smart to so,
Cause if you
piss him just enough
He'll come up
to reach you!

Well, he grabbed
Johnny by his ankle,
I was rooted to the spot
Courage, earlier
taken for granted
Was now one thing
I now had not!

I finally bolted,
Off into the dark cold night
My heart racing faster
than my feet
In such a horrid fright...

I never again saw Johnny
But one day, I grew courage
Just for a peek,
Went back to the cemetery,
A sign of Johnny
I did seek....

All I found was a shoe,
Caked in mud ,
and red, red blood
The vague outlne
of fingers grabbing
Made my heart
just give....

I ran away, once more
in terror, afraid for
my very life....
Screaming, "No Johnny, don't!!"
Fear in my heart like a knife.

So let this be a lesson
Watch out where you may pee,
Maybe you can't see them 
But leave the dead to be,
Don't "piss them off"with urine,
Cause you will surely pay,
They'll reach right out
to grab you, and that
will be your final day!

Details | I do not know? | |

Starless Night: The Art Of Giving (Rhyme Incorporated) part 1

I was reading Michelle MacDonald’s superb piece of art “Sea Shanty”
Secretly, under the haiku master Katherine Stella’s “Yum Yum Tree”
When smiling Carol Brown, invited me to her grand “Surprise Party”

The charming lady of the soup was no longer feeling bad or “Sideline”
After mending herself, thru helpful John Boak’s “Like The Best Wine”
I am not sure, if, playful Julie Bristow told her, the miracle of “Divine”

Thank God! Doret Cope sighed; she didn’t suffer from a “Stolen Love”
She enjoyed the work of Dawn Drickman’s “The Tiger And The Dove”
She is a good person, that I told her my secret, of having “Other Love”

At the party, Keith Bickerstaffe, without her luckless maid “Ophelia”
Was talking to Sir William Robinson, the great man behind “Mahalia”
I guessed she asked him why I wrote “O God, The Rat Has A Phobia”

Dancing flawlessly, to the nostalgic tune of Jeffrey Lee’s “Music”
Was my haiku mentor, she’s mesmerized by Mahalia’s “Light Magic”
But co-host, a certain Adam Piper was caught trapped, at “The Attic”

I did surprise all, even William Robinson, “When I Stop And Pray”
I interrupted my recitation, of own favorite “Cast Your Doubts Away”
‘Cos, I rather break my pen, but not a promise: “And To Thee, I Pray”

Epulaeryu chef Joseph Spence Sr. who “Makes The World Go Round”
Was explaining, his cooking, to sweet Elaine George, but “Spellbound”
By the strong romantic power, of yellow “Dried Rose On The Ground”

That got humble Daria Stone confused, of feeling “Unlocked, Not Free”
A beauteous Deborah Simpson smiled and asked him: “Sequester Me”
Joyful Karen O’Leary said, the handsome chef, will “Travel With Me”

Details | Free verse | |

Coyly Samba

eyeball to eyeball, deep, labored breathing,     
sidestepping, pulling, twirling, pushing;            
bodies swaying to the fast Latin beat,                  
sultry flame of  uncontrollable heat;   
enchanting the feral, seductive rhythm,   
seemingly floating and lost in a dream;               
to some dizzying heights wildly soaring,       
inflamed pores with sweat overflowing; 

lost in the magic of that Brazilian dance,              
the master and his moonstruck mistress;           
sitting in the corner their loyal Maltese,           
admiringly watching, deep in a trance! 



Details | I do not know? | |

Wet (2004)

A wet that never runs dry
A tale that never dies
A mind so big
You never reach the centre, no matter how hard you dig.
When your ideas stagnate and pause
Think of a solution and not a cause
Why rest your mind
Why fall behind
Move ahead instead
Dryness flakes
Water awakes
Let the wetness pour
Then you’ll know your living for sure
Don’t ever let your life be dry
Or you might watch it fly by

Details | Ballad | |

Pop! Goes The Weasel

Pop!  Goes the weasel...
When he shot...
The guy behind the easel...
And stole his silly paintings...
All about there were faintings...
He ran from the chasing cops,
And made but few stops...
One for a beer...
One for some schnapps...
Guess he got a little wasted...
As he dropped the art
He had hardly tasted...
Now one wine,
and he was wasted...
Grabbed by the cops...
He was soon pasted...
With crime charges 
He soon embrace'd
Cause he was tired of art theft,
And he was color blind, and with no sense of depth...

Details | I do not know? | |

Stop wearing makeup

(This is a fictional poem)

When you were a little boy, you ate lipstick.
Now you wear it and you'd better stop and I mean quick.
You wear lipstick and other makeup too.
When men see what you're doing, they laugh at you.
You think that makeup makes you look hot.
You think it makes you look sexy but it does not.
Stop wearing makeup or you'll get laughed at again.
Trust me when I say that eye shadow and lipstick aren't meant for men.

Details | Rhyme | |


Itches are like fleas. Always trying to bother me. Itches,they are so confused not 
knowing what to do. So they will continue to bother you.

Itches like to fuss and fight . They find this  type activity a delight. Itches become 
blue when they can't get next to you. Itches come in many different degrees, 
bringing discord among the saints and the ain'ts.

There is no specific shape, size or color.There's no reason or rhyme to their 
madness. The ultimate goal is to bring confusion and sadness.

An itch could be me and it could be you .You don't have to be a female to know 
this is true.An itch can never be satisfied at anyones's happiness(that abides 

An itch has a job to do and that's to bother you.Take your pick at which type of itch 
it will be emotionally,financially,it's just a start you see.Itches range from A to Z, 
but when you pick your itch, choose carefully.

Itches don;t come to stay, they go away and come another day.Itches come to 
make you pray .The more you pray determines the stay. So, pray away your itch 
today so you can grow and be on you way.

Complaining about an itch will make you blue and others  around  you.You know 
what to do so don't allow the itch to control you.

You know that the itch has a job to do, so don't do you ! Pray through!

Details | I do not know? | |

Larry Fine

(Dedicated to Larry Fine who died January 24, 1975.)

When you died in 1975, it was very bad.
It made millions of people sad.
You were a great performer and people loved to watch you.
They tuned in to see the wacky things that you'd do.
You starred in every episode unlike Curly, Shemp and Joe.
The only two who starred in every episode were you and Moe.

Details | Free verse | |


I am so quaint on the edge
to my honor shall I pledge
walking the thin rope
in a shallow disarray of hope
feigning the lose of ability to cope
my emotional charade is only a facade
the american citadel fell to inform
shall I now tow the norm
in this fluffy buttered pan of notoriety
that all my ego tastes of buttersilk.

Details | I do not know? | |

I kicked Al Gore's ###

(I got the idea for this fictional poem after watching Mad TV.)

Last week I got a visit from Al Gore.
I beat the hell out of him and he doesn't want to see me anymore.
He asked me to give him my car keys.
When he told me what he was going to do, it angered me.
He said he was going to destroy my car because it's bad for the environment.
When he tried to take the keys, the hospital was where he was sent.
Gore thought he was being smart but he got himself in a pickle.
He could've taken anything else but I broke his bones when he tried to take my 

Details | Rhyme | |

Thou Art Picasso

                              I look hard at pieces of Picasso
                            for art according to other's say-so;
                        no symmetry, much less beauty I see,
                          none in his so-called cubist artistry.

                      Faces, noses, limbs and lips all askew,
                      call it abstract, surreal or what have you;
                         deformed, distorted images must be
                              loveliest to Pablo, but not to me!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

hello omar

thanks omar; re spelling; i'm orig. from brooklyn; not only are we expected to 
spell everything wrong, we can't even talk the king's the way...who is 
our king these days?  does he speak english?  LOL-  thanks, and what'cha think 
of Forbidden Planet?  sorry to use this medium (instead of well-done?), but you 
left no email address.  thanks for the comments, Soup Forever!!!!! Tom

Details | I do not know? | |


I finally ficsed my scatter brained poetic mind
My friend Bacster gave me an unorthodocs answer
He informed me about tacses and IRS back pay
We discussed the ecsploitation of a falsified matrics
As well as why acse murderers are so scary
How secsy we think pierced nipples are
And why Sacsophone players continue to play the blues

We discussed why Checs Mics tastes so damn good!
And how much we absolutely hate the facs machines at work
Macsimum discussion of an off color tone
Never interested in three sicses
Portrayed through lack of secsual practice lately
Lack of secs can really ecspand your mind
Quite unecspectedly

Details | I do not know? | |

Just Like TV

you think you know me 
haha, you're funny 

you don't know me 
quit playing make believe 

you don't see my broken heart 
my bleeding heart 

you don't see my lost soul 
my dark dark soul 

you don't see my fading spirit 
my dying spirit 

you don't see my many tears 
my streaming tears 

you don't know i fake my smile 
what a great smile 

you don't know i'm living a lie 
i'm such a lie 

you don't see my wilting flower 
a daisy or a rose 
it doesn't matter 

i'm here for your amusement 
just like tv 

what you see 
is not quite real

Details | I do not know? | |

What's real

   Here I am sitting waiting for a prince charming that is hardly galloping, I must watch 
too many fantasies, I must read too many romances because in the real world nothing is 
like you want it to be. Everything is forced. Your pressured to find someone quick, 
That's not what love means to me. I see everyone falling in love and I wonder about 
myself. What's a girl like me doing alone? Maybe it's because my head is in too many 
clouds to breath. Even when a guy tries to approach me I knock him off his pedestal. I am 
perhaps just a little too mighty and yes I guess I have an ego on me but that's doesn't 
mean i'm not approachable. I will weaken to my knees when the right guy comes along. 
Tears drop down my face as I dream about the one I loved. So far away from me now that I 
can't feel him so I just let him go. Now i'm searching for someone just like him, Isn't 
it funny how the heart can be retarded. Your head is telling you no just forget it and 
your heart is beating messing things up causing you to lose it. But these feelings are 
real, my heart craving attention so much that I have no choice but to believe in silly 
romances. I have yet to feel that heart beating moment that makes my eyes water. But 
that's real and not a fairytale and as I close my eyes I know he's out there.

Details | Free verse | |

Mystic Knights of the Sea

does anyone remember
the significance of
these words?

I'll give you just a hint...
look to the early fifties
when the king of all the fish
had conniving his favorite dish

Details | Light Poetry | |


of Still
Pollock's expressions
to make a Lichtenstein cartoon.

Details | I do not know? | |

I'm not bigfoot!

(This is a fictional poem

People think I'm a beast because I'm hairy.
They run when they see me because they think I'm scary.
They think I'm bigfoot but that's not true.
They think that because I wear size eighteen shoes.
When people look at me, they think a monster is what they're seeing.
They're shocked when they learn that I'm just a hairy human being.
I went to a girl's house for a blind date and you should've saw her run.
I was sterile for a year because her dad shot me in the balls with a tranquilizer 
When I went to a diner last night, everybody ran.
I'm getting tired of people thinking I'm a monster just because I'm a hairy and 
smelly man.

Details | Light Poetry | |


(This is a fictional poem)

I don't have any cigarettes to smoke.
I can't get laid because I'm broke.
I have no gas so I have to walk wherever I go.
I try to take girls out on my bicycle but they keep saying no.

I made some home made booze that I tried to sell.
But it made the first customer go blind so I went to jail.
My cellmate dunked my head in the toilet and gave me a swirly.
I thanked God when they let him out early.

When I got out of jail, I had no food to eat.
I was so hungry that I was nibbling on my own two feet.
I'm starving while my neighbor is as big as a cow.
I want somebody to either feed or shoot me now.

Details | I do not know? | |

PBS kicked my ___

(This is a fictional poem)

PBS has some quality shows and they no longer allow people to watch without 
They beat the hell out of me and now the hospital is where I'm staying.
I got beat up so bad that I had to have some amputations.
From now on I'm going to make damn sure that I give them donations.
I'm going to tell you something that you must do.
Give PBS money or they'll kick your ___ too.