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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.

The Party Pooper by Dietrich, Andrea
not my party by labeau, catherine
PARTY MOON by Guyler, Ian
BEACH AND PARTY by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Only party by Jetaime, Agatha
Childrens party by Seal, Alexander
Summer Party by Kimathi, Teddy
Lawn Party by Ronnow, Robert
KIDS PARTY by Guyler, Ian
Chickadees Have A Party -Double Reversed Cinquain- by Jones, Cynthia

View all new Party Poems

The Best Party Poems

Details | Party Poem | |

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 Newton stars 
Sweet sugar cookies and peanut butter bars

Taunting whoopers, 
Dancing dum dum's, 
The sweetest shadow silhouette 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

Jiggling my jelly belly boo berry butt-erfinger delight
I'm in love, licking icee icing all night 
Extra freshness once I pop a top off of a mountain dew pop
My eyes sparkle like diamond dazzle razzles in the sky
I live to fabricate my own personal sugar extract R.E.M. Sleep
Savoring the sound of water lingering in my mouth
This night, ovulated buds, await to feast
Enjoying a delicious dulce music sleepy symphony

I'm here to brag and embrace a pinata pillow escapade
Enchanted by a cotton candy crave -calling my name

Lalaloopsy licorice and lemonade, tea
The best wet dream I'll ever see
Marshmallows of solitude dulcify every single fresh fantasy
Imbibing bright slushy skittles daydream freeze

One fat sunny bowl of mix cereals and cane
Crackerjack jail and chocolate chip swirls, 
Caramel lumps constipate the brain
Sizing up -peanuts and candy, popcorn party payday
Wild winter fresh, Wrigley's Spearmint Breath parade
Gummy bear Dessert, Fruit Ninja hair 
Watermelon Taffy stuck on the top of my gums
Swallowing and indulging the whiteness of a whistle pop bar

Super bubble sweet tarts embedded deep down in my heart
Bubblicious, mint twist, Sunkist the best Twizzler breakfast
Yummy in my twinkie tummy, drooling over frosted pop tarts 
One more strawberry smoothie 44 oz cup   
Counting each and every Pez popping up
Goodnight my friends,
It's time to get lost under a midnight moon pie sky
SELFLY- Hugging and snuggling to a new sugar rush high

By:PD

More great poems below...


Details | Party Poem | |

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 
11.29.2014
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Tale
1st place

Details | Party Poem | |

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.


11~28~2014
Contest: Chopped III
Sponsor: craig cornish

Details | Party Poem | |

DANCE AMONG THE FLOWERS

Dance among the flowers
Let's have a party and a tea
Dreaming of the future, and
How I think that things should be
Life should be an adventure
A Prince should take me to the Ball
The wind always fills my sails
When I'm with him, gonna have it all

I dream out loud to make it clear
This little girl has no fear

Growing up is not easy
So much is not what it seems
No time to smell the roses
Or to think of childhood dreams
Life just becomes survival
My Prince was really a pauper too
My ship never left the harbor 
Happy days are all too few

My dreams long gone, nothing near
Grown up girl.. So many tears

Hide behind the surface
So you think that I am strong
Inside I'm falling to pieces
How could everything go wrong
Life can make you bitter
A shell of what you could be
Drowning out in the ocean
So far out that none can see

Prayed for a miracle, a new song
That a true Prince would come along

Met you the next morning
Your humor made me smile
The way you looked at me
I hoped you'd stay for awhile
You came a little closer
Then you gently took my hand
Words can't describe it all
Lost dreams were being fanned

You were my miracle, you were my song
All of those childhood dreams, They were inside all along

Dance among the flowers
Let's have a party and a tea
Dreaming of the future, and
How I think that things should be
Life should be an adventure
A Prince should take me to the Ball
The wind always fills my sails
When I'm with him, gonna have it all

I dream out loud to make it clear
This little girl has no fear

You were my miracle, you were my song
All of those childhood dreams,
They were inside all along


*This is the story of a little girl growing up with amazing dreams, only to be devastated by the harsh realities of life.  Then by chance, in her adult life,  she meets someone that restores her belief in dreams she thought were long gone.

12-16-14

Details | Party Poem | |

It's hard to say

No
A small little word
And yet so hard to say
It tempts me to say
Maybe
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
Commitments 
Piled
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




More great poems below...


Details | Party Poem | |

Popcorn Music

Pop (corn) Music


Introduction

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!


Background 

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!


Conclusions

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 you....space could not allow. I love you all!


JM

16th Oct’ 2013 


Details | Party Poem | |

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!













Details | Party Poem | |

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 




Details | Party Poem | |

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
5/23/2012

*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

Details | Party Poem | |

The Last String

You cut strings to my heart
And left but only one
On that you tug and pull 
You do it just for fun

You want to see your strength
And so you give a tug
But when I come alive
There is no welcome hug

You rest and retire
Exhausted from your play
My heart is left in peace
Until the dawning day

The string's still in your hand
And so you twirl it round
You go out for a walk
My heart drags on the ground

You meet friends, joke, and laugh
While my heart's trampled down
But I can't reach that string
As you party up in town

You spend a lovely day
While my heart's there in tow
You tug it now and then
To give my heart a go

Tonight while you're asleep
All snug in slumber land  
That single string will snap
I'll snap it on demand

I'm tired of your game
HE wants my heart to win
So I'll just snap that string
And wipe your silly grin

He wants to have my heart
True love's the only string
I'll gift it now to him
He makes my sad heart sing

So, when you wake at dawn
All smug and satisfied
And give that string a pull
You'll not be gratified

All you have is a string
Lifeless and very still
While my heart's flying high
Filled with his every thrill

Eileen

Details | Party Poem | |

My Christmas Wish

Presents are wrapped with no time to spare all of my precious children soon will appear there's food in the oven I'm humming a tune "Wish You A Merry Christmas" a perfect afternoon. There'll be laughter There'll be joy Christmas Carols to enjoy. Emotion overcomes me waiting for the party to start Tears of happiness are flowing there's love in my heart I wish everyday could be just like this It would be perfect my Christmas wish

Details | Party Poem | |

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

Details | Party Poem | |

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

Details | Party Poem | |

Advice

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
Rearranged 
Sculpted
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
Unexpressed
Silent
Unexplored
voice!

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.








Details | Party Poem | |

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.

Details | Party Poem | |

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.

Details | Party Poem | |

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

Details | Party Poem | |

Characterization

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.

Details | Party Poem | |

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


Details | Party Poem | |

At the Edge

White wake trails the festive party boat
Beach dweller eyes with envy
     Lonely fate
          Cactus on desert sand
               Not even parasites invade
                    Needles repel everything, everyone

Never to exchange vows
Give birth, spoil grandchildren
Endless nights tossing in a king-size bed
     No king
          Eternity in a cocoon
               Years pass
                     Hopes dim

Friends complain
Messy husbands, custody battles
No custodians seek empty hearts
     She beckons the sun to set
          Prays to reach heaven’s gate
               ‘Fore it rises again
                    Shedding light on pain

Enduring dread
Puffs of smoke from burnt-out life
Climb and dissipate
     No last will
          No legacy bestowed
               Memories of her life
                    Rest only in souls who have passed



Entry for PD's emotional poem contest

Details | Party Poem | |

Death of my Friend

Death of my Friend


Found was the key to heaven's door
this pain I can bear no more
The shadows that eat my long nights
the guilt of that deadly fight

Ages ago tragedy came sailing in
took the life of you my friend
A drunken party that went so wrong
our lives becoming a sad song

I begged you to not dare drive
if you done so you'd be alive
My guilt in not forcing you back
you car hit on that train track

Death came instantly to my friend
for me pain that will never end
I backed down when you hit me then
your funeral I'd not had to attend

You that always got your own way
should have never died that sad day
Now I see your fate was meant to be
you died young, a soul early set free!

Robert Lindley

note: Death of my friend. I tried to stop him 
but not hard enough.Too drunk to safely drive but 
when so young we thought we were ten feet tall and 
bullet proof! 
Maybe we were but just not speeding train proof..
Rather than knock him out I let him go. 
Car was hit by a train and death was immediate..
Twenty-one is too young to go..

Details | Party Poem | |

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.....

Details | Party Poem | |

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"



Details | Party Poem | |

PIZZA AMERICA'S FAVORITE

Thick or thin, it is the Friday night order in special,
Supreme or meat lovers delight, whatever toppings
You like it, does not matter for it’s 
The all American favorite, Pizza!!
Roll out that dough, cover it with Italians specialty
Sauce, cheese me to please me, I’ll never get enough,
I’m simply addicted to this deep dish pan delicious stuff.
Cut me no single slice, for more, more, more,
Is the thunderous roar of my mighty hungering’s
Rumbling, within my tummy, for what Pizza!!!
Circled or squared, just roll that pizza cutter of 
Portions pleasure, pick up your slice and allow
That thick cheese to pull apart naturally,
Then bite into Nirvana, for this is heavens
Perfection guaranteed by the slice.
Now the frozen microwave style may work in a pinch,
Delivery or the hot and ready special can satisfy
My personal hunger glitch, for that tasty pizza pie,
As long as can get it, I’m satisfied.
Oh grant me one pleasures sinful command to break
Dearest lord above, to indulge myself, and stuff
Myself with pizza, pizza until I burst, for gluttony is
One distractions fault I have dear father, when it
Comes to this circle food, as it spins on the nightly
Commensals boob tube.
Is it not against the law to hide messages within
Certain text, because I swear these advertisers
Know our fragile human weaknesses, late at night
For  this delectable substance, called what
Pizza, if I haven’t mentioned it enough,
Yummy, yum, yum old chum.
It’s the party hardy mid-night special, on all
Channels of the United States of America,
There is no doubt of this, rock my world
In flavorful old time favorite, dude I’m
With you all the way, especially on a 
Friday night.
This is my declaration of independence
Declared in Italian sauces redden stainy ink,
Give me Pizza or give me death, just kidding
Folks, by the way do you want that last
Pizza slice, I’m not quite full yet, lol.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN



Details | Party Poem | |

The Nearsighted Dragon

To celebrate his new glasses,
home a nearsighted dragon, did fly.
the doctor had truly, helped his sight.
A party he’d throw, full of savories; 
on many delicacies, his friends would feed.
All night they’d party, till morning’s light.

His patio torches, he’d blow on to light;
water spots, he’d removed, from every glass. 
He decided a menu, for his friends, to feed.
Off to the grocery, with his bags, he did fly;
oh, how he did savor,
his brand new, eyesight.

Dragon, inswws, was a curious sight;
with bags full of food, he did alight.
Dragon truly savored,
his shiny new eyeglasses. 
but as turbulence hit, off they did fly; 
causing him to drop his many bags of feed.

With no food, for his friends, upon which, to feed; 
he dove, in an attempt, to restore his sight;
that nearsighted dragon in half-blind flight.
He looked drunk as the dickens, in broad daylight.
Though he recovered his glasses; 
his sight, again, to savor.

Now he could see, to recover, his savory
menu and headed home, for his friends, to feed.
First he tied on his glasses, 
as to not, lose his sight.
The coals on his grill, he simply blew, to light, 
as his guests all arrived, in true dragon flight.

Hungry dragons in flight,
arrived, dined and savored, 
the meal, he’d prepared by torch light.
On mushrooms and steak and potatoes they did feed;
oh, it was such a bright, festive sight
and they toasted him, with a great clinking of glasses.

Twenty dragons, still too full, to fly;
bedded down, in his cavern, by the morning light.

In dreams, they’d re-savor, 
the spread; what a sight!

Dragon’s friends, just as planned, he truly did feed;
all thanks to his shiny new eyeglasses.