Best Baths Poems
A reflection of the coloured pencil drawn sky
skates on the glass smooth surface below it.
While a rebellious group of shades take their positions
on a glorious stage to express themselves artistically and
I...
i think of you
Wisps of clouds shaped like a palm leaf
fan the winds that stoke the fire
of a randomly sketched sunset.
I...
i think of you
The cool of an ocean breeze
travels the shadows of this low lit evening.
Caresses my skin like the essence of romance.
Enthralled by the allure of a candle lit sky,
I...
i think of you...
Our French Bakery early mornings.
Café au lait and croissants.
Our freesia soaked baths.
Your mink soft body.
Its milk and honey scent.
As I fall off
the edge of the world,
I...
i think of you.
March 19 2015
Armand
Your honey drips in baths of blue,
with seductive scapes set to woo,
Arousing aroma stimuli arise anew,
A vixen voluptuous Venus to subdue…
Mane of a lioness suave and soft,
provocative perspiration sent aloft…
With erotic eyes that capture oft,
sensuous seclusions within her loft…
With lips that taste like wicked wine,
quixotic quenching of the venom vine…
Bodacious breasts in their combine,
permeable performance will entwine…
The Orbs of passion ambiently attend,
risqué rituals of a burning biting blend...
Carnal kisses upon a salacious suspend,
gravitational goosebumps will ascend.
Nov.09.2019
Goosebumps Poetry
Sponsored by: Delilah Ventura
Placed 3'rd...Plus POTW...Thank You
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A thing of beauty on her wrist
was confiscated by a nurse
who looked for items soldiers missed
in places (and by means) much worse.
They branded her inside the camp,
a thing of beauty on her wrist
replaced by Hitler's horrid stamp,
a stinging band below her fist.
With teeming glee, Frau nurse had hissed,
"Thank me that you won't see the baths"
A thing of beauty on HER wrist
the gleaming fee of psychopaths
Now, she who bears the mark of war
lives free and wears her scar not with
remorse. It's more, at eighty-four,
a thing of beauty on her wrist...
========================
The fallen sons slipped off Creation’s lens.
To taste the sting from our own tree and fruit.
Their giants quarried till no place to stand.
Before these day’s deceiving shades of gray,
The prophet’s shutters opened wide to write.
Foretold of hate in focus driving nails.
Our Pilate’s wash in Silver Halide’s bowl.
For only one Son’s blood can fill the baths,
His saving grace developing the soul.
And now reflecting every color’s hue,
Presented flawless under Father’s sight.
This world to turn and from you it will take.
Endure this to the end and ride the light.
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Regardless of whom is…
Aching, my pen moves, lines hold in place
words found wandering about my heart
Ink dries with tear drop accuracy, streaked
forming in versed collections of envisioned truth
From the gallery they call, teeth bared
ready to rip the pain from any pore,
handing down punishment, sentences
that do not fit the stanza
Still I write, poetry,
combing thoughts of fine woven moments
presented in decorative motifs
with strawberry jam and blue button accents
Dangling in the midst of green tailed hate,
baiting the wide mouths of insistence steadily
challenging belief and validity
with a tarnished tea spoon IQ
Fingers tremble behind rolled down sleeves,
three-quarter dreams fall head first into
basement personalities dancing in
ugly nightmare robes, sneering
And I scribble, pristine fonts of flowery flow,
enchanted lines of wisteria wrapped creations
Weaving along vine covered fences
even as eyes peer through morning glory gates
I know this fear, you feel it too, the watching,
from every corner, tiny squares of horrific masks,
eyes floating in mud garden baths
dripping blood the color of…the color of, well, blood
But I must write, hoping you see, praying you read,
sending these phrases on braided thread
spun of love, stitched of affection, patterned desire
regardless of whom is…
missing, the magic
stars shrink
the moon cowers
all that's sweet turns sour
heartfelt sighs
comfort food
steam baths
no good, no good...
O, before ye despair
love will repair
nature's caprice, no one spares
~ angels in heaven yet care
Cockle shell candles and firefly lights
padding the path to the woods
Grass crunched and scattered in weeds and in patterns
of the way every garden should look
Cobblestone herb baths and sleepy old stars
shooting the breeze in the dark
Waiting for someone to wish and discover
the cobblestone path in their heart
Night time is patient and fragile and ancient
with secrets just bursting to share
Turn up the jasmine and glow in the shadows
with eyes open wide to the moon
Luxuries lunar light swinging old stars
parading their final hurrah
Flittering fireflies brush up on moves as they
follow the trails of the heart
Pumpkin shaped lanterns delight the warm eye
orange and gold muted voice
Hanging from tree limbs bent down to oblige
and also to be understood
Fly on with sonar and pipe cleaner wings
soaring above all the lights
Lit up like secrets, hovering, weaving
simplicity's gifts of the night...
I’d love to be a model
Tall and thin like Jerry Hall
But I like fish and chips too much
And I’m only five feet tall
I’d love to be a dancer
With poise, and style, and grace
But I was born with two left feet
And would end up flat on my face
I’d love to be a climber
Scaling mountains in one single bound
But I get dizzy in high heels
So I’d best keep my feet on the ground
I’d love to be an athlete
With medals of gold on my chest
But it takes all my breath, to run a bath
So relaxing at home is best
I’d love to be a painter
And have works of art hanged in great halls,
But the only paint that I can use
Is emulsion you slop onto walls
I’d love to be an actress
Starring on the silver screen
But with my memory, I’d forget the script
“What was I saying?” – see what I mean
I’d love to be an explorer
Through untamed jungles I’d caper
But I love the luxuries of life
Like hot baths, and toilet paper!
I’d love to be a poet
And write my own anthology
But that’s just another pipe dream
So I’ll have to be, just me.
Car doors slam, country quiet broken
A race ensues… front door flies open
Dogs start barking, excitedly running
A happy day... grandsons are coming
Overnight bags in a flash are dropped
Energy released can never be stopped
"Papaw! Momo! We're here!" they yell
All that is missing is a ringing doorbell
Hugs, big smiles, checking all rooms
We stay mostly outside all afternoon
A walk up the driveway for a short hike
Playing on porch or riding their bikes
At supper they tell all that they know
Story after story and swear it is so
Baths, snacks, teeth brushed and bed
Tucked in kisses after prayers are said
Tired dogs look at us with questioning eyes
Is this temporary or for the rest of our lives?
Beside each child they settle for the night
On alert for a sign something's not right
Exhausted, we smile at our pride and joys
Grateful to have this time with the boys
8/10/16
Pure Childlike Fun and Enthusiasm Contest by Carin Krutsinger
Third Place - June 2018
I joined the Brownies when I was seven
Oh what fun I was in seventh heaven
Having fun and making new friends
But in the Brownies my life almost ends
We were doing badges - this particular one was for swimming
I wasn’t a strong swimmer and was having lessons
We sat on edge of the baths in our costumes and hats
Then we had to swim along the side of the middle of the pool
To gain our badge we had to swim a width all the way across
I’d only ever swum in the shallow end before
But everyone else was swimming across…
So I started off… got halfway across…
And then I got into trouble
Began to go under the water…
Down
Down
Down
I sank to the bottom of the pool
Two men dived in to save me
My parents were frantic
They had been watching me ‘swim’
And were sitting upstairs on the balcony
Unfolding before their very eyes
Was their worse nightmare
Thankfully these two men saved my life
All I can remember was being rather ill at the side of the pool
As the water came gushing out of me
One memory I have is of being given chocolate buttons to eat on the way home
AND
I was awarded by Brownie badge – guess it was out of guilt
I never did complete that width.
Now I am scared of deep water
If anyone asks me if I can swim…
I say ‘yes’… like a stone!
11~02~14
Contest: Near Death Or Near Life Experience
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
In my global village, Oxy, where folks live all alone,
There’s lots of open secrets, for secrets are well-known!
Fairly dark alien residents live with us above ground.
A dull roar or deafening silence you hear when they’re around.
In mobile homes, alone together, some big babies live,
hanging out with old boys. Head butts they like to give!
An idiot savant is here, and he is terribly nice.
His glasses are half empty, and he likes to use hot ice.
Non-working mothers are employed here as paid volunteers.
Infinite in number, earth angels are those dears.
One skinny broad likes idle gossip. With sad clowns she talks.
She gets cold sweats. In restless sleep, she wakens from sleep walks.
A petty officer with some lame effort likes to find romance.
She wears tight slacks but lusts for men who only wear dress pants.
A gentleman bandit had brief longing for a student teacher.
Her morbid humor was, for him, her second best feature.
Mostly in my village, folks are devilishly good.
Private citizen have open house in every neighborhood.
Others, though, are pretty ugly; some are really fake.
The highly depressed with quiet rage are just too hard to take!
All that aside, with mild enthusiasm, I must say,
I love the mud baths, rock gardens, and elevated subway.
Come visit. You’ll love our jumbo shrimp, local celebrities,
work holidays and free love; all make forgotten memories!
Written Aug. 26, 2016 for David Lindsay's Oxymoronic Obsession Contest
Every line has one or more oxymorons. This was great fun!
Sue doesn’t sit so demurely in her motorised wheelchair.
She’ll tell folks to stop gawking as it's very rude to stare!
Beneath her tenuous frame is quite a formidable young girl,
born with brittle bones but in her wheelchair she can twirl.
Sue’s parents sadly told her that her condition is immutable.
She is bereft of strong limbs, but her courage is irrefutable.
Despite a recent interlude in hospital, she's always cheerful.
Don’t treat her like she’s invisible or you may get an earful!
She loves to sketch caricatures in her artist’s drawing book
and in her specially adapted kitchen Sue is learning to cook.
Her physical disability will not prevent her from achieving
and her aphorism of life's always been, ‘Never stop believing
Sue loves to spend time wheeling around the garden paths,
watching chirping sparrows joyfully splashing in bird baths.
She paints canvases filled with butterflies and lovely flowers.
Sometimes she is quite content to sit there and read for hours.
If you are feeling sorry for Sue, don't give it another thought.
In her scarlet wheelchair, she's accepted what life has wrought.
Each day she finds something to appreciate that gives her a thrill.
In truth, she sees more beauty in life than most of us ever will.
Eight word Challenge 5 Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Required words: demurely, sketch, tenuous, brittle, formidable, interlude, bereft, immutable
10-23-17
When I was just just a little girl I thought I knew it all
But as the years passed by I have never felt so small
I never knew what life would be like without you teaching me
But now I'm lost and am scared but there's no way to flee
Dad I know you'd want me to be happy and I know you'd want me to smile
But losing you has confused my soul and set me back awhile
We were just becoming closer, becoming the best of friends
I know we had many disagreements but in the end we made amends
I miss you everyday and cry when I'm alone
I'm lost inside with nowhere to hide I wish that I had known
Life is different now I feel guilty to laugh and sing
I know it shouldn't be that way but you were my everything
I looked up to you for guidance, for strength, for love, for hope
But in the end you'll always be my best friend and in time I'll learn to cope
It's almost been three years dad and life has knocked me down
It's beaten me up, bruised my heart, and tossed me all around
But life has also brought a brand new meaning
From diaper changes, little coos, and the occasional screaming
From I love you's, to bedtime kisses, all the way to morning messes
From pacifiers, to baby swings, and little tiny frilly things
Baby baths, little naps, apple juice, and diaper bags
Cuddles, tantrums, spills, and cuts
So much sass it's driving me nuts
The stress, the love, this life that I chose
Could only get better the more that they grow
My heart is so full, this much is true
The only thing my life could ever need now is you.
We were best friends,
and I was so proud.
She was my mother,
and I was her child.
Then fateful words were spoken aloud,
diagnosis with dire consequences.
Changes came day by day,
remembrances lost, with pretend defenses.
Simple tasks became great chores,
challenges were impossibilities.
Alzheimer’s had captured her life,
and I... unprepared for probabilities.
Always searching for home,
caused her to wander and roam.
Fences, gates and locked doors,
for her protection we had to condone.
I was with her every day.
I wish she had been there, too.
We walked in her garden.
The question came, “Now, who are you?"
God needed her in heaven, but in his
great wisdom knew I needed a while.
He graciously conceded and gave compromise.
He took her spirit, and gave me a special child.
I gave her baths.
I combed her hair,
I clothed, fed, and put her to bed;
God and I sitting till morning air.
That fateful day sadly arrived,
filled with such pain and sorrow.
Goodbye my friend, my mother... my special child.
I’ll see you again tomorrow!
Sweet memories I’ve treasured since that day,
thank you for time to sort them in place.
I am now more endeared to those times long ago
when I was a child and she washed my face.
April 2, 2010
My perennial garden is peaceful and tranquil
A timeless place of beauty where calmness will instill
Vibrant blooms emanate sweet and savory scents
No fake or synthetic wafts among the floral presents
Birds flutter and dip in the rustic metal bird baths
While chipmunks nibble and play along their tiny paths
Swirling garden spinners whisper in the light breeze
An illusion of flying spindles, adds a whimsical tease
The solar fountain is a balance of sounds and silence
As water trickles and flows and provides some reliance
Bees and dragonflies hover and then stop to take a drink
As butterflies flutter in vibrant wings of purple and pink
Asiatic lilies open their bright orange petals of luck
Their beauty instills feelings of awe and wonder struck
Hummingbirds often visit the garden to stop and sip
Delicately feeding on phlox while wings flutter and zip
My perennial garden is a sacred and treasured place
Where nature is welcomed to visit and take up space