There’s a horse that I so hate to see,
and at night sometimes he visits me.
His attacks to my thigh
make me think I might die.
Wild "Charley Horse" acts horribly.
For he comes out of nowhere, so fast!
And he brings a sharp pain like a blast.
I scream like a loon
hit by a harpoon.
Then my husband awakens aghast!
But my hubbie can’t help me. That horse,
though invisible, has such great force!
How I love my reprieves
when the little beast leaves.
But his kind never stays gone, of course!
My poor calf he attacked in a pool
while I swam, and I felt like a fool
as I floundered around.
Well, I could have drowned!
He’s a mean little horse and a ghoul.
He’s got kin, and they all like the game
of bringing folks pain. One has fame
of attacking your womb
in a hospital room.
Now THAT one puts Charley to shame!!
By Andrea Dietrich
(note to those who do not know this common
American expression: Charley Horse is a leg cramp
and all the his kin are assorted types of cramps!)
For PD's "Any Poem Goes" Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
LOVE and HATE it can often be said
in relationships, share the same bed
if you're really quite shrewd
you can work out her mood-
either lipstick or bruise on my head!
Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2015
I'm a defender of democracy
But not its lies and its hypocrisy:
And I loathe Jihad terror,
Its soldier and flag bearer
Who defend their own atrocity!
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014
We’re not called upon to choose anything we live through;
Neither parent nor sibling nor school nor form of sinew;
Neither colour of hair or eye or skin,
Nor love or hate, nor loss or gain
Nor opportunities nor whence we come. So much is true.
But as much as this truth I hold as true as sunlight,
I know that painful times will time to time alight
When with bitter phlegm you curse
The earth where you breathed first
And wish your day of birth were scratched by He with might.
I know. Same feelings have plagued my adult soul
And the wish for better home to make each day whole
Has been dashed by shameful news,
Where Hope, seeing Hitler, and 94’s Hutus,
Needs to hide its youth to stall the death toll.
But amidst pain, hate and bottled despair rife
There’s the rare love, innocent and hardly grasping to life.
For here, we can give our all
When we choose to keep you from a fall.
We really do it: humble, loving…just like the Lord’s life.
Yes, it’s easier to perceive the weeds in one’s garden
For the pastures beyond gleam in our myopia, hiding their burden.
And seeing that weed can cast a shadow
On all that’s sweet, but cause much ado
About the bitter parts, and it day by day your heart will harden.
Think of the evening breeze on the night grill,
Feeding the flames of a delicious family fish meal.
Think of hitting the unadulterated
Lands of hills where ancient rivers percolated
And happy goats skip, and cattle graze and one can feel
Life whizzing through rustling leaves of dancing old tree or reed,
Playing the music our ancestors learned to read,
Making your lungs touch their purpose,
Dazzling your eyes like a Jabbawockeez pose,
The music we’ve forgotten as we focus on some RSS feed.
Think of the youths wise with tradition re-enacting solemnly
The dances and music handed down from before when Ptolemy
Phrased ancient philosophical data,
To the time of the expansive empire of Sundiatta
Beads stomping the dust frantically in musical poetry.
Picture the pure darkness which crowds the silent night air,
Unveiling the marvellous dotted and scattered there
In the moonlit heavenly canvas,
Watching us from light years past,
And we fascinated by the sparkling magic they share.
So to sum it all up, I know it cannot be perfect,
And sometimes I rant and make massive graffiti of its defects,
But this home my parents chose
Still draws my spirit close,
For the bond is deeper, far deeper than human senses can detect.
Copyright © Nyonglema Pisoh | Year Posted 2014
A hot steamy, winter day.
Made two hateful lovers stray.
For together they were apart.
But, apart they lived with dead hearts.
They were visible by the fade.
With a final blow, they forever killed.
The contained blood, spilled.
They hated to love.
They admitted this was undreamed of.
Together they emptied a cup by getting it filled.
Because they were only attracted by pushing away.
Those two hateful lovers did stray.
By looking the other away they faced each other.
They choose to love than hate the rather.
So they both lived to kill today.
Copyright © Kristenna Gaylord | Year Posted 2011
There was a kind old man, filled with good will
Writing for him was just his last great thrill
Poems wrote for God and love
Hawk wasn't he, just a dove
But some, with much hatred, wish him to kill!*
(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
13 June 2016
* I have been with the soup since 2012 and have written more than
a thousand poems on God, love, peace, justice, compassion and
other related subjects. Never had any trouble, however, lately I have
been attacked by certain people who accused me of various things.
Please, in the name of our Lord, leave me alone! I just wish to keep
writing on positive things, filled with love and God's grace.
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2016
I am small
and gaining WEIGHT
from the chips that I had ATE
Just around the BEND(I can barely do that,FRIEND)
Gut around the MIDDLE while my nephew tells a RIDDLE
Exploding sudden GAS ,it came from my rotund ASS
Chicks no longer LOOK at this unsightly SCHNOOK
as I eat my TWINKIE,the underoos are getting STINKY
What do men and women FEAR-besides an enema to the REAR?
unbearable stomach SIZE of a fatso that we DESPISE
Mother wants to give son TREAT by buying hamburger,Burger King SWEET
Dom Deluise has shown me the WAY to get more pound and flab
by expanding every DAY
Spaghetti and a MEATBALL to placate hunger and it's tasty CALL
Love handles is a feeling WHICH..
I quite fear,
life can be an unfair -ITCH!!
Copyright © Bart Jonas | Year Posted 2006
John Denver's “Leaving On A Jet Plane”
“Babe I hate to go” was the sad refrain
Have second thoughts
Too hasty I talked
Slowing down a bit but methinks I'll remain
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2016
Tarzan could yodel with a beat
A whale can sing melodies sweet
But Donald is mean
His mouthpiece the machine
That disseminates hate with a tweet
Copyright © Duke Beaufort | Year Posted 2016