My favorite cousin named Marge
is almost as big as a barge.
So one would assume,
not knowing the groom,
the guy would most likely be large.
But he was a small man named Tim
“As thin as a broom” describes him.
While Marge would guffaw,
Tim would watch her with awe
and just smile for he was so prim!
When the preacher addressed him and said,
“You may now kiss the bride,” Tim turned red,
for their lips could not meet.
With high heels on her feet,
Marge stood towering over his head.
She leaned down while Tim stood on his toes,
but for being in such a strange pose,
Marge then came toppling down
crushing Tim neath her gown
while the whole church erupted in “Ohhhhh’s.”
All was well, and thereafter, we ate;
then we planned next to dance until late.
But none could foresee
the small tragedy
that had us all leaving by eight!
Marge had tossed off her heels for a glide
on the dance floor, but when they both tried
to dance, Tim got snagged
by that dang gown and dragged
as his bride was beginning to slide. . .
Now shoeless, poor Marge could not stop.
Toward a table with candles on top,
they slid, and the groom
then set fire to the room
by landing with a belly flop.
Poor Tim by the candles got lit,
and we were all having a fit,
for the fire got spread fast
till the Best Man at last
got us all wet extinguishing it!
Inspired by the title of the movie: My Big Fat Greek Wedding
& : Joann Grisetti's "My Cousin's Wedding" Poetry contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
Twas winter ninety-seven, all around the town
Houses lit up magically, parties all around.
Boyfriend says, come with me, to works Christmas dinner,
Dress up chic and sexy, looking like a winner.
Hair all done up, makeup on, gown that fits just right
We’ll impress his colleagues, I was such a pretty sight.
Ushered to our table, we sat with others there
Such a lovely evening, a truly posh affair.
Delicious food, friends were made, laughter filled the air,
A real nice Christmas party, memories to share.
Then came all the speeches, boring us all to death,
The best part was the here here’s, sniffing wines sweet breath.
Finally was time to dance, music filled the night,
Dancing in my ball gown which now was fitting tight.
Time and time we danced that night, in each other’s arms,
Him with me and me with him, showing off our charms.
Suddenly I laughed so hard, teeth went flying out,
Slide across the dance floor, feet pushing them about.
In a flash down on my knees, scurrying about,
Found the little suckers, and popped them in my mouth.
At the time I hoped and prayed nobody had seen,
When I popped them in my mouth, and where they had been.
Looking back, now I laugh, thinking it was funny,
I’m happy now my mouth can say “C’est la vie.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
For Judy Konos Contest:
C’est la vie
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
On the dance-floor they did a zigzag
But he was an ol’ scallywag:
- “If you feel something hard
- Pay no regard …
It’s just my colostomy-bag”
Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014
The moon is bright, and the chores are done
Tonight's the night to have some fun!
The harvest in, calls for a night's hell-raisin'
Take me out in the old hay wagon!
Not far to go, where the old dirt road ends
There on the left, where the oak branch bends
Let's hurry, Pa! ....Hitch the old grey mare!
We'll share with folks sorghum pies I've made
Stop la gaging, there's some moonshine waitin'
I'll wear my calico, with petticoats wavin'
Fiddles playin', and banjos are strummin'
Feet are flying, to some do-si-do-ing!
We'll kick up heels, with a still of whiskey
Come'on old man, while I'm feeling frisky!!!
For the Hoe Down Contest:
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
I got up at six this morning
Feeling kind of weak
I had a shave and showered
As I walked my bones would creak
I have very bad arthritis
But I can kill the pain
I just have to take Viagra
Then go back to bed again
My girl is exasperated
Found out six months ago
A Viagra in the morning
Will keep me on the go
I cuddled next to her
":Lets dance they're playing our song"
Sleepy eyed she lay there
Snoring all along
Next morning I woke up
A note said she was gone
"Next time you hear your music
You must dance it all alone"
Copyright © Pepper Jones | Year Posted 2007
An Italian once courted my Aunt
Who was bitten by ants in his pants
So he screamed, "Mama Mia!"
"I got the gonorrhea!"
That's when he learned the frying pan dance!
Timothy I. Brumley
Copyright © Timothy Brumley | Year Posted 2010
She rotates under the balance of my hands
sweet memories we derive
unfamiliar dance steps, mistakes already reaching five
but with the reception of her smile, I thrive.
The stream of her tender archive
into it I completely dive
even when our minds sometimes disagree with the jive
mysteriously to our pleasure, both hearts connive.
Gradually clicking and stepping
the motion is set, we drive
our bodies, dependent on each other
like the bee and its hive
envious cohesion, sweet emotions and heated passions
we unconsciously contrive
our heartbeat, impulses and gazes
taking over despite the melody of the music so alive.
The licks of our skins and my loan of her waist
are taking this dance to a level we won’t survive
a lot in both minds
which all stimulate and also deprive.
Our thoughts so secretive
yet having one loud voice as we strive
the gossip of my body rhythm says it all
“I am so ready to swive”
The bell of caution rings
my senses and morality revive
as the sign of a “no trespass”
is conspicuous on her delightful finger.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015
Dancing with the devil
Like I never danced before
Doing the fiery tango
On a fire flaming floor
In the crook of his arm
Our hips pressed together
Curving me round and round
Like I'm a weightless feather
Our feet move to Milonga
While forsaken souls watch
White cheek pressed to red cheek
His breath smells of age old scotch
My foot darts between his shoes
A fancy leg twist around his calf
Capturing the heat and passion
While trying not to hysterically laugh
If I can dance to perfection
Ironically I'll get to leave
Angels give me strength
And let my soul win reprieve
For I was meant to dance
In paradise on a white cloud
Sent to hell for dancing the tango
In Heaven only waltzes are allowed
Copyright © Cecilia Macfarlane | Year Posted 2013
My favorite shoes? It’s wearing none!
I'll go barefoot, to have a run
I hate to lose
the joy of ooze
between my toes, some goo is fun !
I simply love my precious toes
to wiggle freely to and fro
Bound feet? Oh dear!
Don’t get me near!
A shoe is torture, and my foe!
I could not dance on twinkle toes
Could not advance my prance or pose
A barefoot stance
Is my best chance
of never needing pantyhose!
Indulge me please, I'll be carefree
Removing shoes, in company
No matter what the circumstance
I'll slip them off at every chance
I'll tuck my feet behind my chair
assuming no one is aware
A happy dance, behind my back,
is going on, and that's a fact!
I hope that you won't think to check,
and say that I have no respect
My toes are happy, to be sure
Indulge me please, but don't despair
I'm saving up for pedicures!
For Shadow Hamilton's Contest: "Indulgence"
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
And I as I pull myself together
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now
there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.
Copyright © pat roswell | Year Posted 2013
My favourite comics is the Peanuts strip
Featuring 'good grief' good old Charlie Brown
Reading it takes me on a pleasant trip
Especially when Snoopy is around
Charlie Brown's faithful beagle is Snoopy
They get along with each other quite well
He can be sneaky when he is ready
Yet, just when and where, you can never tell
When Linus, in one hand, holds his blanket
The thumb of his other hand in his mouth
Snoopy sneaks in, suddenly grabs hold of it
Then runs around, spinning him all about
Yellow Woodstock is Snoopy's feathered friend
He bounces up and down when he's flying
On Snoopy's friendship he needs to depend
He alone knows what Woodstock is saying
Snoopy flies off in his Sopwith Camel
To the skies to battle the Red Baron
They both engage in a fearsome duel
Each trying to outdo the other one
Snoopy dances around when he's happy
If Lucy is close by, she must watch out
He would dance up to her very closely
Lean over and then kiss her on the mouth
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2015
Freshman year, newcomer to public school,
my hormones were roused by Billy D. in typing class.
Sadie Hawkins’ Dance just days away;
a chance for girls to ask boys out.
Too shy to show my interest,
crumpled bits of paper I formed into balls,
tossed them at the back of Billy’s head.
Unsettled, as any boy would be, he glanced back at me.
Wry smile, how could he know how my heart raced?
Leo sat next to Billy, amused by this interaction.
Because of his demeanor, it was Leo I asked to the dance.
Turned out Leo couldn’t dance,
though conversation was no problem.
Leo spent the entire night talking about being an Eagle Scout --
tying knots, marking trails, building campfires --
seemed we had little in common.
No chemistry at all, but Leo said, “Thank you,” at the dance’s end.
For years I spent many days wondering
what if I’d slipped Billy an invitation note,
instead of lobbing paper balls?
Perhaps he would have said, “Yes.”
I might have had my first embrace;
maybe even my first kiss.
Years later at a school reunion
Billy looked more handsome than ever;
served as CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation.
He introduced me to his pretty wife
as the girl who pitched paper balls at his head.
*True story for Carol Brown’s “First Date” contest. (Some folks were lucky to have
more romantic first dates. LOL)
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
We met south of the border in Durango,
She was hot and boy could she fandango!
She said at a glance
"Señor like to dance?"
No I replied...but I would love to tango!
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014
I wanted to wear my best outfit to school
So I went in my closet and stood on a stool
Looking for my socks, I had a special pair
I kept looking, but couldn't find them anywhere
Bright ones and dark ones, three in a pack
But the ones I wanted , were purple and black
I found them, so I didn't wear polkadot or green
Wore them with short pants, so that they would be seen
Finally when ready I headed for the bus
Mom made me late with all of her fuss
I ran really fast in hopes I'd catch up
Unfortunately tripping, on my little brown pup
Down I went with force on both knees
It seems I have a kinda clumsy disease
I got up and wiped, the dust off my pants
and suddenly was doing my gotta tinkle dance
So I ran to my neighbor "Please, I gotta go pee!"
Mrs. Smith said "sure, down the hall at door three."
Past her I ran, by her picture of Flipper
Into the bathroom but couldn't open my zipper
The rest was embarrassing I hung my head low
As the wetness on my pants, started to grow
Around me I wrapped, a towel of great size
Leaving the bathroom, I couldn't look in her eyes
She hugged me and said, "it's an okay thing."
"I have the perfect pair, of cool pants to bring."
She said they were magic, with a button fly
And could only fit a fun little guy!
After she let me wash up, I put on the pants
She said with them, I wouldn't do the tinkle dance
Purple and black with perfect matching socks
Boy Mrs. Smith that woman really rocks
With my new pants, I made it to the school
But before I went, I thanked her for being cool
Kindness is special it made things A okay
I thought of her, when I went to play
A bit of kindness turned my day bright
A friend is an angel who makes things allright
So in art class I made her a special card
Me in my special pants and us both laughing hard!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
She was a tappin' to the tunes...
of those Mississippi blues...
step-pin' out, in her white...
We were a watchin' her a prancin',
all through the kitchen, dancin'...
for she was so...hot & sizzlin'...
hummin' to those Mississippi tunes...
Funny curlers too, upon...
her head...for a new... Hair dew,...
she was, a swirlin'-in that bakers apron,
when her head...star-ted a bobbin' to...
those Mississip-pi blues,
'Pots were a knockin'...
Grandma a sockin' down all she brews,
while that kettle there was whistlin',
in har-mo-ny, with them good ole...
good ole...mississip-pi moves,'
That floor there, was a bouncin'
holdin' hands we were a jumpin',
an-a hoppin' In the kitchen, to those...
Where Grandma's feet were a stompin',
In her new...New-white-sexy-pat-en-
Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013
THERE ONCE WAS A GIRL FROM FRANCE
ON THE STREET SHE WOULD SING AND DANCE
ONE DAY THERE WAS SUCH A HUSH
‘CAUSE SHE SHOWED A BIT OF TUSH
WHEN SHE RIPPED OUT THE SEAM OF HER PANTS
Copyright © Warner Baxter | Year Posted 2014
A ballerina's tutu,
Should be called a four,
Unless she's wearing two tutus,
And then it's even more.
Copyright © Rufus Reed | Year Posted 2013
little monkey face little Dragon Monkeys sway they’re dancing orchids * * Note -Flowers Imitating Monkeys--Dracula simian, and Orchis simia
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
This Pole Dancer she was with me
All other men must pay her fee
Still I must confess
My family’s stress
But Polish dance lessons aren’t free
Copyright © Martin Kloess | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © Sam Ruby | Year Posted 2013
Heck, never was much of a one fer romance,
Mostly shy ‘round a lady,
Never learnt how to proper dance,
couldn’t do it if’n ya paid me.
Course er’er times I got all likkered up
And jumped and kicked ‘till ah coon’t no more,
But Bobby Joe surprised me when she puckered up..
Ah got up the nerve to kiss ‘er and fell on the floor.
Reckon one day I’ll git me a dancin’ lesson,
Get gussied up and ride ole Hoss to the barn dance,
But I’ll still be scairt I’m a guessin’
Tho I’ll be wearin’ smellum and ma new overall pants.
Thet thar ah remember was what ah was a thinkin
when ah was a barely sebenteen
Now fifty years later seems in a eye blinkin’
And yep .. Ah done found ma queen.
Twas aft ah come out the Navy
When ah had a family on my mind,
Sure ’nuff found a special lady
But don’t y’all never mind….
Thet thar’s a story for nuther time.
dec 17-2011 part of Ike and Jane series
written by Robert A. Dufresne
Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2011
DOWNTOWN WHERE GIRLS DANCE ON POLES
FOR A PRICE THEY’LL BARE THEIR SOULS
THEY’LL SIT ON YOUR LAP
YOU’LL GO FAP FAP FAP
UNTIL YOU LOOSE YOUR CONTROL
Copyright © Warner Baxter | Year Posted 2014
Confessions aren't easy but here I go
I'm about to tell you what you don't know
I secretly dance at home all alone
I like karaoke with a microphone
Singing and dancing I ain't got no skills
Still it's way better than swallowing pills
As I perform I still have one great fear
If I sing to loudly others will hear
Sometimes I practice at home in the shower
Enjoying myself for many an hour
Maybe one day I will be good enough
Then I won't be afraid to strut my stuff
Until that distant day please leave me alone
I will keep up practice to improve my tone
John Travolta moves, singing like the King
Imagine all the joy one day I will bring
Please keep my secret, you made me confess
Others could be worse, perhaps they cross dress
Confessions not easy secrets come out
Now you will learn what Soupers are about.
Sweet Anne's Confessions of a Poetry Souper's contest.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013
Enjoys by hearing
legs,fingers and body dance
own music is on
Written by: bldevnath
September: 17th 2011
Copyright © BL DEVNATH | Year Posted 2011
There once was a student from Gilroy
Who wanted to marry a tomboy.
But his parents protested
And had him arrested,
Then forced him to join the Bolshoi.
Copyright © Richard Breese | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
If you see a bowl weevil move,
If you see a bowl weevil prance,
It is probably this bug doing
The Egyptian bowl weevil dance
If by some happening,
You happen to see
A bowl weevil dancing
It just might be
If he’s bouncing all around,
All around by some chance
It’s the bowl weevil doing
His little Egyptian Dance
If you hear something,
A right jolly little sound
Listen really closely
And look all around
When you find the noise,
With the pass of a glance
Watch the bowl weevil do
His little bowl weevil dance
So feel the joy
That the bowl weevil brings
As he jumps about
And as he sings
Roll up the legs,
The legs of your pants
And join the bowl weevil doing
The Egyptian bowl weevil dance
Copyright © Brandlynn Young | Year Posted 2007
The Devil Dances In Clawed Feet
(A lively little jig too)
I dreamed of darkness in a room round
there were in it boxes dark black.
Opening each nothing in it was found
except a worn and torn empty sack.
After the heavy lids I then closed
strange figure sat in the corner.
And there it smiled big as it posed
hat removed, it was a two horner!
Now give the devil his credit and due
for in his hand a snake appeared.
Why on earth it laughed I had no clue
I was shaken and much a'feared!
As it crawled over to my shaking feet
devil rose to dance a jolly jig.
Music played to a dark, horrific beat
and my wide eyes got saucer big.
In fear, I stomped the snake into mush
devil only laughed hard at me.
With a wicked grin and whispered hush
told me what the cost would be.
Say I was shocked, hell I was floored
his price was a dance with me.
A fine, lively jig because he was bored
only then did clawed feet I see!
Music played another lively little beat
my arm he grabbed and we danced.
While my eyes never left his clawed feet
in his delight, my how he pranced!
Finished he took himself a mighty big bow
into sacks in the boxes he leaped.
Now my mind wondered what and the how
was devil's torment next be reaped!
The boxes vanished leaving sacks of gold
there was gold coins in each sack.
Now I believe every devil story I am told
and pray -
Like hell, my dancing partner comes back!
Note- From my private journal. I was 18 when I
wrote this one. I think I thought it quite funny.
Sept 12th, 1972
Side note-- Money all gone now but those sacks now hold
IOU'S AND A DANCE INVITATION.. lol
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
I need time to think about time,
Adventurous times, Bad Times, Cool Times,
Down times, End times, Fun Times.
Grumpy times, Happy times, Intense times.
Juggling times, Kind times, Lean times.
Mean times, Now times, Off times.
Party times, Quirky times, Risky times.
Stable times, Tricky times, Umbrella times.
Verbal times, Wicked times X-Ray times.
Yes times, Zero times.
Oh no look at the time times,
Should have made time times,
Could have done better times,
Sorry for wasting your time times,
That's all for now times,
Haven't got the time times,
See you later times.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2016
4am sunday morning they broke into song
unable to contain their smiles
they cast aside the spent wine
and took their ribald song to the streets
with a fanfare of sound and light
like jesters of old
they painted smiles on the frowning old men
and placed rainbows over the bridges between
the carpets of the mighty and the halls of fable
by 5am they had made it all
the way in to the center of town
where a roadblock of uniforms thought to make sense
out of tealeaves and mint cookies
as the jesters just dance around their confusions
between their orders and
what the truth of the heart tells em is the song
and then we see the ugly show a pretty eye to the cause
as it marches in through the double dawn
one dawn for the sun
the other for the hearts of the lonely
and a secret one for me and her
in our lounge chairs by the top of the spike hill
kissing our sweet hearts to eachother
by 10am all but the most die-hard had fallen to dreaming sweetly
neath the juniper trees
while thouse few who clung to awakened hearts
sang softly and sweetly
of summer nights and fresh loves
unearthed from the ashes of the desperate pasts
all things made anew from all the things made old
by sunday evening
we had all danced all the dances
and kissed all the kisses till even the heat of passion couldn't fade
held eachothers hands
and smiled sweetly like memory's saying fare thee well till morrow
i would be crazy if it weren't for your hand in mine
here in the tropical sundown
sunday night so deep
and the only one left dancing is old harold
he's doing the charleston with the moon's echo on the waves of the sea
don't think he's ever been so happy
and as i drift off to sleep
with her in my arms
i know that i don't need to explain to anyone
that we are all jesters looking for a
song to dance to at 4am in the tropics
Copyright © mark junor | Year Posted 2014
We are sick to think we have done something big.
We are in a daze and nothing more.
The cats that came were deformed.
They legs were made to dance.
The rigmarole was a silent scream.
They were as colorful as butterflies.
They walked around with scary eyes.
The fat men that brought them were sloppy pigs.
They were sick to think they had done something big.
Immense the ravage these pigs were.
They were friends to the deformed felines.
They stomachs were made to prey human.
The raze caused confusion.
They were to form the great divided.
They walked around with scary eyes.
They would feast on the rodents that thrive in the ground.
They were to be taught this or they would be wiped out.
On a deadly morn, the cats woke.
By noon, the pigs honked.
The people of the City did their work.
This would be the day guns smoked.
The Cats lives were lived in dilapidation.
The Pigs lives were in slop.
The Wild Boars would try to convert.
The pigs were pigs ate by the humans.
The battle started.
The humans killed more.
The wild boars receded.
The deformed felines were destroyed.
~Inspired by the expressive art of poetry via storytelling, fantasy, fairy tales, tall tales, etc.~
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014