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Best Party Poems

Below are the all-time best Party poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of party poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Party Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Party poems are below this new poems list.

WARNING - too late to Viv's party by P , Paloma
We Will Party Like Theres No Tomorrow by Eldridge, Jack
Party At Nora's Nosh by Ward, Julia
We Will Party Like There's no Tomorrow by Lamoureux, Richard
Sweet Party Invite by Brewin, Barbara
The Jester's Tea Party: Simon Griffiths at The Round Tower Gallery, Frome, a poetic review by Foster, Gail
Betty at the party by kazi, Amena
Party Of One by Curtis, Jerry T
A Birthday Party by Sheaffer, Elisabeth
At your party by Motaung, Pheko

View all new Party Poems

The Best Party Poems

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Sweet Sugar Cookies and Peanut Butter Bars

"I dream of Candy!"

Sweet cakes and peanut butter squares 
A living diabetic's nightmare. --  My heart 
sings to the beat, Under the Neutron Star Crunch
Sweet sugar cookies and peanut butter bars

Taunting whoopers, 
Dancing dum dum's, 
The sweetest silhouette show - in my room
Dreamy, Creamy Cupcakes in the afternoon
Cinnamon Cheerios cascade on my spoon
Sweeter than my sweet tooth
Now and later - a forever honeymoon

Jigglin' my jelly belly boo berry Butterfinger delight
I'm in love, licking the icy ICEE  all night long
Extra freshness, once I crop a top off of a mountain dew pop
My eyes sparkle like diamond dazzle razzles in the sky
i LIVE to fabricate my very own sugar extract R.E.M. Sleep
Savoring the sound of saliva trapped in my mouth
THIS night  -   ovulated buds   -  wait to feast!
Enjoying a delicious dulce music sleepy symphony

Braggin' and embracin' a pinata pillow escapade
Enchanted by a cotton candy crave - calling my name

Lalaloopsy licorice and lemonade tea
The best-wet dream I've ever seen
Marshmallows of solitude dulcify every fresh fantasy
Enticing in a bright slushy skittles daydream freeze

One fat sunny bowl of cereals and cane
Crackerjack spell ---  chocolate chip swirls, 
Caramel lumps constipate the brain
Sizing - peanuts and in a popcorn party payday
Wrigley's wild winter Spearmint Breath parade
Give me, give me, some Gummy bear Dessert  
---------"Another Fruit Ninja hair DAY!"
Watermelon Taffy stuck on the top of my gums
Swallowing the whiteness in a whistle pop bar

Glaze of glory erupts deep down my throat 24/7
Bubblicious, mint twist, Sunkist the best Twizzler breakfast
Yummy in my twinkie tummy, drooling over frosted flakes 
One more strawberry smoothie 44 oz cup   
Counting each and every Pez popping'' up
Goodnight light, 
It's time to get lost under the midnight moon pie sky
SELF- Huggin'' and snugglin'' to a new sugar rush high


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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Like a spider you drew me into your web
Cocooning me within your silver threads
Words, pretty words
I was totally taken in
Wrapping me up in silk ribbons, 
like a party gift.
One for you to open at your pleasure.
You teased me, toyed with my emotions
Powerless to resist, I believed your web of lies
I was trapped  …
"Trust me," you said.
Oh what lies, what wicked lies you wove

Foolish was I for believing your every word.
Love blinded my eyes,
My heart heard only your song.
I thought you could do no wrong,
Then slowly, the scales fell from my eyes.
I realized your web was one of deceit.
The cockerel crowed three times
You lied!
    You lied!
        You lied!
Keep yourself wrapped in the lies you weave.
Other innocents may fall victim to you as prey
But I've broken free from your hold,
and untangled myself from your web of deception.


Contest Pretty Talker Sponsored by Skat A

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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Chopped III - Humor

i narrate me own story in a fake english accent. the bloody typewriter is 
broken, it can't capitalize. i'm out of coins for the heater. i can see me own 
breath. it must be really bad . it's summer here in london. i'm a tough guy who 
carries a gun. don't mean i don't want to look good. i freshen up my lipstick,
light up a cigarette and offer one to my secretary. she is hot really hot.
like i said it's summer. she don't wear lipstick it wouldn't help. in the 
encyclopedia under the word butch is her picture. 

i put out my cig in an ashtray overflowin. i'd tell her to empty it but she scares me. 
she only wears one gold earring. who does that? i'm workin on a case, already 
drank half the beers. by the way i'm a dick a private dick. the name is rock,
rock hard. there's a knock at the door. this could be bad she has two fourty fives, 
she's also got a gun. 

she's holding an airline ticket. no reason. she says she just likes it. 
whatever! maybe it has to do with some kind of contest. 
she says we're going for a ride. we are driving when she gets a flat.

i pump she pumps then we get out  of the car and fix the flat. never liked 
cars, horses are more convenient. less breakdowns. she takes us to a 
party everyone is jumpin for joy, so joy gets up and leaves. bet you wish 
this was going somewhere. it's not. like i said i'm a dick.

Contest: Chopped III
Sponsor: craig cornish

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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My eyes,
you traced the beauty of nature.
The starry sky and inky ocean,
smile of winter in the heavenly garden,
dancing of waterfall on the lap of hill
and kissing of butterfly with lips of lily.
You painted the alluring nature
in the canvas of my memory.
It refreshes my soul
and revives my heart.
My eyes,
you are lovely, you are smart.

My eyes,
You traced my childhood
with your experienced hand.
Sacrifice of my mother
and hardship of my dad.
Depth of their love
and length of their sorrow,
thickness of their sympathy
and width of their care.
My eyes,
You are cute, you are fair.

My eyes,
you age out books stepping with time.
My career holds what I need.
You created hopes
and enhanced expectations.
You make my avenue successful and vivid.
My dreams slept on rose petal bed.
I know, a good book is equal to 100 friends,
but a good friend is a complete library.
My eyes,
you are my friend, you are my diary.

My eyes,
you traced a queen
in a marriage party.
Now, she is my darling
she is my sweety.
I never forget that wonderful  night.
When you traced her sensation
and her jumping heart,
her tender lips
and her undressed beauty.
I was clean bold
with extreme delight.
My eyes,
you are spicy, you are naughty.

My eyes,
you are very clever.
You can speak more than tongue.
I know, you can't be wrong.
My anger is apple red,
my love is pearl white
and my pleasure is crystal bright.
When I am confused
you fly kingfisher flight.
My eyes,
you are my teacher, you are my guide.

Copyright © Manmath Dalei | Year Posted 2016

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The Elves Snow Party

Away up north where it’s snowing they say
the elves are preparing for Christmas day.
Big elves little elves, busier than bees
All building toys, for under Christmas trees.

Some work with hammers others building bikes,
some riding through the room on brand new trikes.
Tiny elf voices ringing loud and clear,
everyone’s full of love and Christmas cheer.

Suddenly the chatter stops; all are still,
Santa walked in the room with book and quill.
Looking down at his book, Santa Clause stared,
then lifted his eyebrows as he declared,

Today I looked inside my books
and I found that we are ahead,
and thought because you worked so hard 
we shall all go outside instead.
Misses Claus made lots of sweet treats
so let’s all eat and be hearty,
for today here at the North Pole
all elves shall have a snow party.

Quick as a wink the elves they disappeared,
Santa just smiled as he tugged at his beard.
Laughing he watched his little friends scatter
and soon the mountains echoed with laughter.

Snowballs were flying, snowmen taking form,
and hot chocolate kept little elves warm.
They were sledding, skiing, skating all day,
see, elves aren’t simply, all work and no play.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Tale
1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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It's hard to say

A small little word
And yet so hard to say
It tempts me to say
Maybe I can make it work
I so desperately want to say yes
It hurts
Crushes me
To see you disappointed
Those times when I have no time
When I am stretched to the limit
One on top of the other
The important less important things in my life
When I have no energy
No extra to give
No way of knowing if I'm making a mistake
I say no to give myself a break
Some space to breathe

Sometimes no
Is meant to protect
No you can't go
To that party
Spend time with that girl
Hang out with that guy
No I won't change my mind
Even though I have to be the bad guy
No is a declaration
That I care for you
I want only the best
I want no harm to come to you
No is a tool I use to strengthen you
No you can't quit
You must finish what you start
There is no better feeling
Than seeing you succeed 
Those times I said 
"No, you can do it on your own."
Even though I desperately wanted to help
No meant I trusted and believed in you
You can do more than you think you can
No one is more proud of you

I wish you to know
The power of no
When it comes to a girl
No really does mean no
When you are put in an awkward place
You don't have to say yes
Choose your no wisely
No I don't want to go
No I don't want another drink
No I have somewhere else to be
No I will not let you treat her that way
No you cannot cross that line
No I deserve better than that
Yes, no is a small little word
It can change your path
Give you time to breathe
No, opens up possibilities
To choose
The yes
That is right for you
Yes or no
I believe you will choose wisely
Even though no
Can be a hard word to say

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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Spider songs

Blades of grass, wet under foot, insect eyes  
Dusk, offset by the cricket orchestra 
Muted and receding into the trees and bushes,
Tickled by the wind, rattling snake tail wind 
While we may be in the company of wolves,
A long legged friend is late for the party 

Eyes, little iridescent stars 
Attending to each one, and look there, 
There she is, making the most beautiful geometry 
Parallels within the octagons, pulling silks
An arm for every task, little perpetual motion machine

Is that the Queen of the Night under the rusted iron? 
A forlorn lady, black patent leather, kill a man, maybe two 
With her danger red symmetry, oozing with youth 
And a penchant for paralysis, no one can resist her wine

Then there's the hall of cob webs, threadbare handkerchiefs
Left by ladies who exhausted all of their company 
To be a spectacle under the moon, in the wood pile 
Dressed up in the finest furs, all earth tones 
Stepping out to introduce themselves in girlish droves 

Venus of another sort, these little cursed jezebels 
Hovering on the skin of the water, or on the red brick wall 
Must frequent every happy corner, and slip away at a moment's notice
A real lady always knows when to say goodnight
Such graceful exits through cement cracks
Back to the parlor, to glow in the dark 
And they become spiders again 

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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Do not look to me with questioning eyes
For i do not possess the answers you seek 
i cannot taste the bitter sweetness on your tongue,
or smell the withered flowers along your path
My heart beats with less rythm than your blues
i am unable to stumble through your dark corridors,
for you are poet undiscovered
Your answers are hidden deep within an apathetic pen
For you hide behind a painted closed window
Pushing too little 
arriving late
Not aware of your own relevance
Solitarily, feeling sorry for yourself
When instead, pity could be your party
Yes it is true, the world celebrates sad clowns
But you do not let laughter mix with your grey sky tears
i myself, see images of you poured out on limitless pages
Until your words have substance 
Becoming living and breathing beings 
I wish you to reveal to us your cherished children
Birth them to a forgiving unforgiven world
Risk the grasping hands of rejection
True courage will reveal your annoited pen

Without risk 
you cannot
will not 
bleed in rainbowed splendor
Instead, days will become years
Yesterday will slide into tomorrow
All the while the world would be less
A shadow of what it could have been
In a place of unawareness
Oblivious to its own lacking
Bathed in deprivation
All because
Of a missing

Or maybe
Just maybe
One letter 
A tiny little letter
will grow into a word
Several strung together a stanza
Several stanzas a poem
An honest to goodnes poem
Then we will all be witnesses
To the emergence
The screaming or quiet entrance
The proverbial birth
of a singular voice
of a wide eyed dreamer
Then you will feel that collective sigh
as other broken dreamers applaud you
For on that day
If only you possess the courage
all will know
That you truly are
and always have been 
a Poet!

For Tyshawn Knight's "Words of Wisdom" contest

Re edited version.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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The Party

The Party

Everyone is festive
All the ladies in pretty dresses

Champagne in flutes
Flirts in Armani suits

Waiters and penguins
Serving wine and cheeses

Musicians playing tango delights
Diplomats avoiding land mines and devastated sites

I toast them, one and all
Vodka and Russians can not dance

I can drink you all, under and over
Tossing empty bottles over me shoulder

Pretty ladies and purple purses
Drunken observations as the poet muses

Who would bed me now?
So drunk and wise with broken fuses

No one, can see the poetic disguise
Of the lonely man seeking only lies

The tenderness of the Spanish kiss
Hold me, dear dream, caress me inside

The floor is full of empty plates
The party is over, so it seems is my fate

I fall asleep under a street lit lamp
The richest of bums in an old cul du sac

If only before that fateful day
I could suckle upon the breast once more

We are all infants no matter the shore
Love should never have parted out that door

Sanity was broken and tossed away like lore
I mumbled the petty desires of the broken man

I tore out my heart, bloody and beating in my hands
Laid it bare upon the sands

Coupled with crabs
The universe re-created

Eaten raw, love was consumed
New beasts shall roam

Sunken eyes and empty chest
I, am the one who is no more

Tall tails and party hats
The forgotten are never fancy cats

Until one day you meet the maker
Of your story, cooked by the baker

Ovens shall burn and choirs sing
The devil you see, had the last ring

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

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Popcorn Music

Pop (corn) Music


It’s time to dance, time to tango
There’s a Canadian on the banjo
When he sees the guitar strings
Jack’s mirth grows soaring wings;
As he scans the rhapsody drums
While busy the Banjo he strums!

He strums with finger
Voice doesn’t malinger!
He strums with thumb
He’s loud, he’s not dumb!

There’s Pop Music in Poetry House
Fasten belt, tighten that blouse
Third Party Insurance will not help
Scorched, when you start to yelp!
While Archaic blows a brass horn
I’m squatted munching popcorn!

He blows the mad horn
That the Devil can dehorn
Bravura of Poetic sound
Tremulous on the ground!


Fantastic footwork by Andersen Anne Lise
Compared with my hodgepodge tango style
Her voluble Poetic twirls and untimely release
Sent me across the floor to hurtle and fly!
Supine and writhing with shyness’ disease
Miss Wattle spruced my green-horned tie!

As if mêlée was all but an esteemed order
Sis Yvette, on her protuberant poetic drum
Synchronised with Archaic’s across the Border
Non-stop, the frenzied guy continues to strum
Poetry flowing from the mental cam coder
Raving Banjo on the mercy of Jack’s thumb!

Poetry Soup is irrefutably a busy Pop House-
As Cherie Thomas beats with Conductors’ stick,
Wider goes Delysia Hendricks’ split blouse
Furiously harping with gusto and a rare trick!
To rupture of ecstasy and uproarious applause:
“This kinda stuff makes this cheeky Gal tick!”

You’d say he’ll suffocate where he’s trapped
I mean Sir Lamoreaux in a spirally saxophone
Blowing, piping poetic tremolo whilst wrapped
Breathing into the constrictor’s tail a cyclone
Heaving chest, yet poetic zest is not sapped!
Alas! He’ll not till poetic tremor is fully done!

Repeatedly blowing the Lyrical saxophone
Vicky Tsiluma, intrepid Black Queen that she is,
Across Kilimanjaro, waft her poetic tone
With intonations of peace and human bliss
In this fine cognoscenti’s vitality is borne
That Lovers of Learning cannot afford to miss!

Eileen Ghali with her fine and sombre heart
Completed the missing link in the Poetic Pop
Which she could never eschew to take part
Her poetic prowess and love writ not to flop
Cheerfully sang love lines on a pedestal chart,
With dance sending Jack’s trousers to drop!


By sharing Poetry for free
Other’s mind we start to see	
Lost temper, back we find
In Soup we share our mind!

**Dedicated to all the Soup Community members. I could have included all of could not allow. I love you all!


16th Oct’ 2013 

Copyright © Joseph Matose | Year Posted 2013

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A Shade From The Past

Just as days long ago, when decorum resolved, 
before composure, and poise,.. were corsages, unknown
Where propriety mattered, and was favored as gold,
high society, has gathered to flavor their tea
There's a trellis, embraced by a rose climbing vine
Places are set, for dining in jade
beneath shadows that stretch under arthritic old trees
While slivers of sunshine, squeeze through the branches
of silver leafed limbs, in magnolia bloomed shade
Tea will be served, by large knuckled hands 
at several round tables dressed with Swiss lace designs
Wearing lavender silk is our proper Grand Dame'
who fits her surroundings, as vintage as wine

Voices are lilting like the birds in the trees
Laughter and chatter, mingle with soft, summer breezes 

A bouquet of old friends, around a few scattered tables. 
Silver coifed hairdos, to make celebration
Crepe myrtle and wrinkles, beneath ashes and maples
Water cress munchies, and triangle creations

Sweet honey-suckle, tucked over the porches.…
Rose petal blossoms, are painted on china 
Bridge cards, tumble by Blue Willow dishes
Biscuits from England, crumble sublimely

Large bosoms bouncing, and big floppy hats
Gossip dished up with lemon-sliced frowns
Up in the tree is the neighbor's calico cat
who catches a glance, and a chance to crawl down

Are they ladies of leisure, from a time that is lost?
Or a painting I've seen on the wall from the past?

Inspired By the Garden Party Contest
Sponsored By Cyndi McMillan 6/6/14

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

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What I Think

Honey it's probaly not best befor I have
a drink.
To look deep in my eyes and ask what 
I think.

Cause Im  far from a romantic and
your far from a thinker.
Short skirt nice legs.
Your a go go dancer  and I just another drinker.

After a few glasses I'll savor  that last drop. 
I'll lose my mind.
And hopefully you'll lose your top.  

have a private party for only two.
well shed more than ambition.
 As i drink outta your shoe.

I'll empty your liquor cabbinet  and you'll keep
my wallet shrinkin.
My dear it dont take a rocket scientist to
figure out what Im thinkin.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

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Forgotten By Tomorrow

She stands at the edge of the precipice,
looking down towards her future.
The last tears that she will ever cry,
falling from her eyes, 
then falling into oblivion.
She watches them drop 
as they disappear forever.
Yet, she laughs in the face of death.
Would it really matter if she took the leap?
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

The wind blowing at her back,
pushes her to the edge.
Almost agreeing with her final decision,
and encouraging her to jump.

A thousand thoughts and memories
racing through her mind.

Her first day of school.
Her tenth birthday party.
The lonely, awkward days of her teenage years.
The day she discovered poetry.
The moment she first saw him.
The day she thought that she was worth something.
The day when all of that became a lie.

Every memory 
that never made the pages of a history book.
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

She exists to no one but herself.
In the blink of an eye, she decides her fate.
Her feet leave the ground,
and yet, she did not fall.
Out of nowhere he appeared,
and carefully grabbed her hand.
Pulling her back to reality,
saving her from the brink of disaster.
He held her, as her tears stained his jacket.
Old tears of sadness,
mixed with new tears of happiness.

She was remembered by yesterday.
Before she was forgotten by tomorrow.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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Our two party system isn’t working
Plastic figures, disaster lurking
Conservative or liberal isn’t the call
It’s the ultra rich against us all
For the people is what it’s not
All candidates have already been bought
Platforms built on promises and lies
Hear the people, ignore their cries
Wave that flag as if you’re proud
Then bow and worship the corporate crowd
You no longer serve, you’re out of place
You are an elitist group, a public disgrace
You’ve subsidized the rich with your insanity
Then crippled the growth of humanity
You’ve killed our children in endless war
The media smiles and keeps the score
We sing of amber waves of grain
You’d sell it all for personal gain
You left our budget in disarray
You’ll tax our grandchildren for it someday
No water boarding terrorists you warn
Then murder a child who is still unborn
You have no ethics, you have no shame
You have no morals, you accept no blame
Washington is a place I’m told
Where politicians are bought and sold
Where dreams and ideals are destroyed
A city where honesty is null and void
A place where hope has been dethroned
You won’t get nominated unless you’re owned
A place where once” In God we trust”
Now we look in sheer disgust
Country burning from your sparks
You replaced Uncle Sam with Karl Marx
Our nominees we cannot select
The media decides who we elect.
Politicians with great orations
Puppets to the corporations.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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Valentine's Day Musings

All year long he puts my heart on a shelf
No surprise I’d rather be by myself
     If there’s no Valentine treat
     From this worthless hunk of meat
He can go on making love to himself

Remember there’s an “I” in Valentine
So if no one’s around to say, “Be mine”
     Just splurge – get a new hairdo
     Party with an all-girl crew
Check out the divorce rate and say, “I’m fine”

*For Francine's Valentine Limerick contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

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My Slutty Aunt's Wedding

I shook my head
Knew the day’d be messy
Some poor sap
Was marrying my Aunt Bessie

She’d slept with half of Brooklyn
Flaunting her exploits all through town
The mayor, the banker, the deli clerk
Even the birthday party clown

A wedding gown, so fitted
Her bellybutton showed
Boobs shoved up high enough
To violate building code

Minutes before the shindig
She pulled me on the roof
Snatched a flask from her garter belt
Downing one hundred ninety proof

She wanted to call it off
No way she could comply
To promise for all her life
To only screw one guy

I told her she could do it
Like many other people do
She finally calmed down 
And made her wedding day debut 

She stumbled down the aisle
Tripping on her gown
Her daddy kept her steady
‘til the pastor stared her down

She blushed but pulled together 
Long enough to give her vows
After the ceremonial kiss
Everyone went to carouse

Letting loose at the reception
She danced with all the boys
Twirling, flashing, grinning
Making all kinds of noise

I’d like to say things ended well
That monogamy she would master
But before the night was over
She got naked with the pastor

For Andrea's "Show Me the Funny" Contest

Copyright © Natalie The Rogue Rhymer | Year Posted 2012

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A Birthday Poem For My Very Special Friend

A Birthday Poem For My Very Special Friend (This is also composed for my dear friend, PD) Your birthday is indeed a great time of gaiety, It calls for a celebration, a Grand Poetic Party But, what I have just said is only a secondary Most importantly, your life is great and healthy. I am writing this poem first and foremost, To send my love and best wishes to the most For all the dreams of yours, let’s make a toast May they all be fulfilled without any cost. Since, I don’t have here your complete address, I cannot send you chocolates, cakes or roses So, I’ll just send my fervent prayer for success To God, He may protect you, guide you and bless. I will also enclose in these lines of my poem, My songs of bliss for you and your family at home, May you be free from all worries and gloom Age added but, you’re a gal who incessantly bloom. My dearest friend Linda, have a very happy birthday, If you are only here, I’ll dance with you today, Like a lady on her debut on the 18th Natal Day You’re our Grand Celebrity in ‘tis Land of Poetry.

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012

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Jamaica Nuff Love

Beautiful Jamaica,land of my birth,
This little dot,specially prepared by Mama Earth,
World best seasoning,grown by our dirt,
And the Jamaican Rum,bad nuh blouse and skirt,
Beautiful Jamaica,land so sweet,
A formal dinner or a party in the street,
Our vibes,our style so unique,
Our warmth,our culture,no other can beat,
Jamaica,Jamaica,land we love,
Touring Jamaica feel free like a dove,
Our rivers,beaches,beautiful sunlight up above,
Sample our tasty meals,you'll find one that you love,
Jamaica,Jamaica,land so great,
Great runners,great music,embrace our taste,
God or Jah Rasta Far I,embrace our faith,
Take a trip to Jamaica,it's never too late.....

Copyright © Richard Palmer | Year Posted 2012

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Chantale's Birthday Party

Late to the party we arrived at seven
At least we showed up before eleven
Sweet Ginette, joined us both at the door
A bottle in my hand ready to pour

Off to the kitchen to see the Birthday Queen
All the happy faces a beautiful scene
Hugs for Chantale, another for Helene
I met a new person, energetic like a teen

Her name if I remember, it is Jocelynne
She is married, to a cool guy his name Martin
Bruno was cooking but stopped to say hi
Christine looked happy to be with her guy

Jokes and conversation, a whole lot of fun
Happy to spend time with everyone
Dave seemed content enjoying the mood
My stomach grumbled, I was ready for food

To the table it was time to sit down
We were all treated, to the best meal in town
First Chantale prayed a blessing on us
Our Savior is great, he deserves a fuss

The meal fantastic but the Tuna was raw
I tried to eat it but it stuck in my craw
My Mary she enjoyed it, although not me
I prefer all things cooked, that come from the sea

The pasta amazing, seafood galore
The wine was superb, I let Christine pour
She sat to my left, Dave sat to my right
Everyone there, made it a perfect night

Once concluded, Christine C sang a song
A Louis Armstrong tune we all joined along
Her voice was clearest ours more like a croak
We were lost in the moment, that's not a joke.

We all started dancing, disco moves on the floor
Armand turned up the sound, as we screamed for more
First time I saw Dave dance, he cuts quite the rug
Armand has his own moves, he likes the Jittery Bug

Before too long it was time for dessert
Hot from all the candles I unbuttoned my shirt
Chantal blew out the candles after making two wishes
Armand served Mary's cake, on rectangular dishes

Chantale's special day, a day to remember
Celebrated each year, October not November
So we raised our glasses, thankful for the cheer
Together we celebrated a friend who is dear!

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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Zombie The Musical

The town was all a flutter; Zombie the Musical, was coming to town.
We all signed up as extras… Yes, as Zombies… here we did come.
Bruce Willis was the hero, with the Mad Scientist Z, for all to blame.
Dragon wanted to be the hero, but became the Evil Z. OH! Poor Thing!
His penguins, the perfect zombies, chased across the screen, so berserk!
The director wanted his zombies to twitch, but all thought he said, twerk!

Someone turned on ‘Thriller’, and amid the music, things began to work.
The penguins were endearing, as they stole the show. Wouldn’t you know!
As they did the: step left, step right, Shuffle, shuffle, twerk, twerk, twerk!
Dragon flew on the set, but things got wonky, as the set, in flames, went up.
He crash-landed in the fire works, which scaring most the towns’ zombies off.
All was meant to be dark and scary, but naturally that came out, sooo wrong.

The witches decided to dig up zombies, for the flash mob scene, to work. 
The new zombies, did their own thing, chasing more town zombies away.
The witches got them from the cemetery, not telling those alive, today. 
Bruce Willis, by now, was really banged up, as he fought the zombies off.
Everyone knew something was so wrong when one bit Dragon in the butt.
Thank goodness that fricasseed Zombie, couldn’t bite thru Dragons Scales.

Well, everyone made a run for it…as the penguins steadfastly twerked on…
At this time, some say, the director was straight out seen, pulling out his hair.
He was yelling: Dumb Zombies need a brain! & They’d head to the cemetery… 
If  ‘they only had a brain!’ So someone added the song ‘If I only had a Brain’. 
The director wanted Die Hard, but got ‘Die Hard without a Brain’. Yeah, Way!
Tho some would simply end up calling it, ‘Die Hard to Twerk another Day’.

The director decided: if he couldn’t beat them, join them. Yes, he surely did!
With the ending credits Dragon twerked. Groan! For shame!  Nobody Look!
That’s when Bruce Willis called Chuck Norris to help round the Zombies up! 
The Zombies wouldn’t take their cues! Well, not, until, it was time to Twerk!
Then they all just joined in, as apparently a real Zombie…Can Indeed Twerk! 
They were all, finally sent home, with smiles upon their face. Uh... we think!

The witches put them back, by order of Chuck Norris, in any case! It’s True!
For a witch can mess with a director, but No One messes with Chuck Norris! 
What! You knew? And the after show party, with Chuck Norris, had such flair!
He even ask Dragon for an autograph… Now, Dragon’s head is in the air!

And Note: Not a single Zombie was hurt in the making of this musical…
          Though, many a one, did fall down, when Dragon flapped his wings.
          The fricasseed Zombie liked his suntan and new hair style, it seems!
Written By Carol Eastman 1-22-2015 

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015

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- Take A Chance -

Throw your high-heeled shoes
Forget daily stress
Dance barefoot in the sand
Grains of sand between the toes
Lace and pearls on her dress
The shirt is new and smooth
Straight cut and fit
Glimmer of evening sun
You are in limelight
A disco ball in the real nature
Dance is enriching for the soul
Establishing new relationships
Mood on top
There is nothing that stops you
The energy explodes
For pure pleasure
The best party ever
What are you waiting for

17.11.2015 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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Poor man Rich man

I went to a poor man's house
There was an exquisite car in the driveway
I walked up to the grand entryway
Rang his doorbell
The chimes sounded like cathedral bells
He greeted me with a practiced smile
Welcomed me to sample his world
Together we walked across marble floors
Gazed out magnificent windows
A truly glorious view
Yet I noticed no photographs on the wall
A mansion filled with things yet he was all alone
We sat and talked
Into the night
He told me of his great success
The trophies, awards and famous guests
I could see it was important for him to impress
He told me he was living the dream
Yet it was only sadness I was seeing
He thought more was more
So he grasped at the extreme
The best of the best
He was busy being
In the end he only talked about things
All the pleasures his money brings
Convincing himself as he blindly sings
Unaware of his poverty
When I look in his eyes I seen misery
This house a mosoleum to his insanity
He left his wife a while ago
They grew apart both fast and slow
She raised the kids he never got to know
To busy chasing his successful dreams
I left his home with heavy heart
Unimpressed with all his expensive art
More concerned with his bankrupt heart

I went to a rich man's house
A modest car sat in the driveway
The wheels were scuffed from when his daughter learned to park
He was at the door before I had a chance to ring the bell
He welcomed me into his lovely home with a warm smile
Introducing me to his wife and kids
We sat in the front room looking out at their yard
I commented on the tree house
He proudly told me how him and his son had built it together
Boys only sign on the door
Still his son would play tea party, with his sister there
It seems they were an inseparable pair
This man had so many stories to share
Photographs of family displayed everywhere
He was living such a full life
So much to be thankful for
He appreciates his kids and loving wife
I got to see an art collection on the fridge
Spending time with him was a privilege 
He invited me to stay for a meal
I said "gladly, that's a great deal"
Enjoying myself with a man who's real
For he posseses a richness of the soul
Not trying to impress by playing a roll
Success in relationship his primary goal
When I left I had gained his smile
Real is real I liked his style
A worthy life a truly wealthy guy
I turned and waved 
sad to say goodbye

Inspired by Dave Wood's poem "Poverty"

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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A Magic Adventure Of Peter The Pan--part II

Inside the Dishwasher everyone rushed!
Clinks, clanks, rattles, 'Ouches' and ' Ohs'!
"Would you pa--lease, settle down!" said Deb--They hushed.
"Now we can hear...let's just see how this goes."

Curious, Peter, looked out through a chinc,
And watched Vie and Chris-- approaching by twos.
They opened the door--and who do you think--
Standing there wearing her fine Jimmy Choos,
Ms Lost Sonnet!--spoke not a word--but winked.

Wilma Wine-Corkscrew, dressed in purple hues
Gave the 'all clear', and Peter spread the news.

"We're having a party Ms Sonnet, please,
Won't you join us? It's a magic party
For Peter", said Ruben Rotisserie.
Bob Blender poured her a drink--quite hardy.

Connie Candellabra was flaming bright
As Ms Sonnet swept past to the soft couch.
Carolyn Cookie Jar screamed with such fright,
"Quick! She's on fire!" Then Lost cried, "Ouch!"

"I'll save her", said Catie Collander. "Here!"
But the water leaked through her like a sieve.
Susan Spatula yelled, "Have no fear, dear!"
Yet, the fire held on and would not give--

Others tried, but could not stop the fire.
Then Peter said, "I wuw twy! I can do it!
With 'Awwy, I can fwy! Way up highya!
Togethwa, we can save Ms Wost Sonnet!

Awwy is my fwend. He tawks funny, too!
He's aw the way fwom Engwand and he is
My Supwa Cape! So I can fwy! It's twue!
No H's wive theaw--his name is wike this:
'Awwy--not Hawwy." So now, they all knew.

"Did I 'ear some bloke colling my name?"
"Yes! 'Awwy, me! We've Ms Sonnet to save!"
Harry Handtowel--AKA, Super Cape--fame
Was now on the neck of Peter the Brave!

With no hesitation quickly they flew,
Smothered the fire and saved just one shoe.
Brittle and weak, Lost needed more than glue...
"She needs magic! Oh! Paweeze! What can we do?"

"Peter...we only made enough for you".
Said Carol Crock-pot. They all cried, "Boo Hoo..."
"Then give huw my magic! That's what you do!"
So quickly they sprinkled the magic brew.
Ms Sonnet was greatful--then said, "Adieu".

"Peter, you've done well," said Anne Assam Tea,
"Let's all have a cup'a tea and you'll see...
"'Magic's believing in yourself, --frankly,
Do that--and you can do--anything!"

~©deborah burch

*Special appearance by "Lost Sonnet", courtesey of David Williams...with much gratitude, thank you all for appearing ;)...Peter has many adventures to come...big hugs, love you all, cap'n deb

Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012

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Elicit Illicit Lucid Dreams -contains nudity-

~JSLambert does not (currently:) use, or encourage hallucinogenic drug use.

    Telepathic psilocybin prescription erasing elastic depression. Competition 
wanes, just when nocturnal emission drains. Lifted poetic wing clipping. This 
party only makes sense to those encrypted with unconsciousness. Scalpel in 
hand, methodical break and entering, break dancing meninges remove 
portions of brain doin' the bitchin'. Ah, this immaculate incision! 

    Lucid dreams vacating turnstile vibrations, deteriorating horrific screams 
douching eardrums. Ultraviolet eyes fortified by THREES---Mind-Body-Soul, 
rolled up into one huge trinity. 
    I'm moving asses fantastic. Call me the "Proctologist of Poetry". 

    Electrify words, regurgitate, choke and vomit the crock of crap-ola. Venture 
down butter slides until the sky goes red. 

    Still too uptight to listen? (don't pretend in comments that you read this 
entire poem if ya' didn't) glisten, be kind, rewind, let liquid swords chop away 
fat weighing upon your forces. Once doors of perception swing eyes wide 
open. Devour the false to magnify hate. I love you the same. I love you, never 
in vain. Hearing your verse lifts a heavy curse carried in shame. 
    As a child, I had no fear of apocalypse, or world hunger. No, phobia meant 
running out of words to give, to receive, from lips. It haunts me to this day. 
Tho' the bliss of poetic language's kiss, soothes the cries. Altruistic sighs! Now 
we dance! Dancing Harmony times three equals harmonize! Tour your Third 
Eye, yir' Karma-eyes!

    To the heads that said, "NO CAN DO!"- We've weaved advice for you. File 
illicit deeds away, for in dreams we are connected, Siamese twins, at the 
wrist, spellbound paradise! Let go of doubt, negativity= below zero. Work it 
out! Crash whiplash angles 'till friggin' rectangles dangle through 
kaleidoscopes of style. Poet trees smear the cosmos. Let go! THREE will never 
be alone. Bestow the glow, thorazine vapors escape secret tombs where 
peroxide cleans wounds. Fusing two Toots in common with Nefertiti. THREES. 
    Elicit illicit lucid dreams gushing ejaculatory melodic screams. Orgasmic 
spasms...vas deferens between actual sacks and Staff of Ra polluted sticky 
streams. Peddle the bicycle high, annihilate attrition, like motivated Mormons, 
door to door men, on a worldwide mission. I love you, I miss you...witness the 
vision...alive in the schism!

*credit A.Horovitz, A.Yauch, M.Diamond, Billy Corgan

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014

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A Silly Rhyme for a Friend Sublime

He’s so super, duper
That guy, he’s a trooper
He’s a fellow Souper
He's no party pooper
His name?
Yea…It’s Cooper!

His first name? It’s Shane
Brings pleasure, not pain
He handles insane
This friendship won’t wane
He shows no disdain
That great guy named Shane

Shane Cooper, you’re sweet
You’re friendship’s a treat
Every day there's a tweet 
To help me on my feet 
So here’s a rhyme greet!

I’ll save you a seat
At the bar when we meet
Come rain, hail, or sleet
We'll toast the elite
Down on PS Street!

Thanks for being such a fab friend…Your daily encouragement has meant the world to me. You're not afraid of my CRAZY! You need a medal! Hugs

Bambi! ;)

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015