Best Bend Over Poems
My butt crack
Is quite a split
It supports the rest of me
when I sit
you thought I was gonna say something else didn't you ?
My butt crack
Is a marvel to behold
It was cute when I was young
but now offensive since I'm old
My butt crack
Is pretty darn straight
can you imagine if it was crooked
pretty weird sight I would rate
My butt crack
Is funny to me
when I bend over in my jeans
It peeks out
for you to see
My butt crack
wanted me to write this today
for no other reason
then just to say......................
I gotta split
LOL
Eric (and sometimes not)
The thing with giving is Expectation...
The treasure of giving is the giving itself without expecting anything in return.
A loan creates dependency, inequality.
***
I
bend over
and kiss you
while you are sleeping
The fragrance of your
helpless frailty
Softness of your skin
I cherish
I
rub this balm in the
palms of my hands
to warm it, to give you
pause of sickness
softness without pain
And I lift you against me
Gently
I
Smile in your ear
You whisper soft tufts
of warm air in my neck
You give me the gift
of tenderness
You
expect nothing in return
I only ask to be here, with
you, I give you my life
to love you
forever
***
April 4, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Everyone has rolls when they bend over
When someone tells you you're beautiful believe them, they aren't lying
Sometimes we all wake up with breath that could kill a goat
For every woman glum about stretch marks another wishes she had them.
You should have more confidence, if you saw yourself the way others do, you would
Don't look for a man to save you, be ready to save yourself
It's okay to not love every part of your body, but you should.
We all have 1 friend who seems to have it together. The one with the perfect life,
well, you might be that woman to someone else;
You should be a priority not an option, a last resort or a backup plan
You are a woman, that alone makes you pretty damn remarkable !
Original Text From : Women Fighting For Women
a re-write from Mystic Rose
Aimless foot prints mark a wind torn shore
deserted rifts splitting a secluded scene,
(where romance rocked a heart between
painted paradise and realness once adored)
our heads inevitable drift even deeper inside
And as blood red curtains paint a choppy sea
where last sun rays die a temporary death,
(so wondrous how they hold their breath
to pat one later on the back with glee)
even shallower time stamps left by our feet
Everything erased a minute after we passed by
incessant and unrelenting a water without feel,
(your hand in mine, I bend over and steal
evening breeze kisses, almost shy)
and find myself in you a place to hide
An uncertain future held without hope
washed away shores with unfulfilled dreams,
(but because nothing is as bad as it seems
with you by my side, I can certainly cope)
together our spirits and lives are complete
Darren White
Tim Smith
The Playbill for the 9/8/01 show at Godspeed Opera House falls from my palm to the floor. Here I sit, with a drugged hangover but alive. The last thing I remember is a suicide note in the Underwood typewriter on my desk, beside an ashtray of Blanche's lipstick smeared butts. Putting back on, the bifocals that had been dangling from one ear; I frown. I can't remember arriving? A phone's ringing; I stumble toward the tone. Odd looking thing, I think, as I bend over. The note taped to it says; it's a cell phone? "What the hell?" As I flip it open, I'm tackled. My heel slips on a broken pencil; I'm down. "What did you do? You bastard," he bawls, waving an airline ticket in my face. Looking toward him, I notice the stage still lit. He grabs the cell phone, "What the hell is this? You a commie spy?"- The 'phone? screen?' says 'Fred go to the opera house by midnight or you're both dead.' The curtain parts revealing a pool of blood: a chord is struck.
It's midnight accordin' to the ticker. I have a moment's relief before my arm's wrenched behind me. I'm cuffed. There's a shout from the lobby and the sound of sirens. Lifting me, he shoves me to the wall; locks me to the door pull. The theater hall appears empty except for us. Through a door, he charges. "Back here guys." The SWAT team arrives. "Smells like the dead in here Marco's, where's the body?"
"Ask him. Take him out and open some damned windows will ya." Two of the gorillas toss me on the porch under the moth laden lights. Just when the cop was about to kick me in the head; a woman screams. The coppers run inside. I hear a crash and a half dozen clod hoppers trompin', then through the door rolls a single gold earring. I scream "Blanche!!!!!!"
The crew hollers CUT-PRINT-It's a WRAP. I smile as Blanche saunters out.
The Play Bill for the Godspeed Opera House fell from my sweaty palm to the floor. 9/08/01. I’m still alive; it’s a miracle. Pushing my bifocals back, I frown. I can’t remember anything after arriving at 11pm.? A cell phone rings. I stumble toward the buzz; bend over to look for it, when I’m tackled from the wing. My heel slips on a broken pencil; I’m down.What did you do? You bastard,he bawls; looking toward the old theater house’s stage. He grabs the phone, retrieving the last message— Fred get to the opera house by midnight or you’re both dead.
the curtains part
revealing a pool of blood:
a chord is struck
Seems I’m alive and after midnight too. I had a moment’s relief. My arm’s wrenched to my back. The pain’s hard to ignore. I feel cold metal; he shackles me. There’s a shout from the lobby and the sound of sirens. Lifting me, he shoves me to the wall fixing the cuffs to the door pull. The theater hall is empty except for the two of us. Through an open door, he charges.We’re back here guys. It’s clear.That moment alone was all I had. The SWAT team arrived. Smells like the dead in here Marco’s where the body?“Ask him why don’t yah. Take him out and open some damned windows will ya. Two of the gorillas toss me out on the porch for a closer look under the moth ladden lights. Just when the cop was about to kick me in the head—a woman screams.
I once was one twenty, now I’m two fifty three
I’m twice the man that I used to be
I gave up smoking because they said it lacked taste
Now I can’t see my feet because of my waist
The doctor said my lifestyle might kill me
I said I’d live longer if he didn’t bill me
He said try to bend over and touch your toes
How about I stand straight up and scratch my nose
My wife says I don’t understand why you are so hard to reach
My parents were the ocean and shoreline, I’m a son of a beach
You need a colonoscopy is what the doctor said
If I were a politician they’d have to remove my head
We may be equal as we walk hand in hand
But you’re still in my shadow when we lie in the sand
Here’s a flower not bloomed so what’s new
I guess I should say this bud’s for you
Don’t tell me you’ve heard my excuses before
I just made it up as I came in the door
Yes I’m much more heavier than I used to be
I’m twice the man when you look at me.
Sway, sway so soft
Back and forth swaying
near motionless
holding on so tight
blending, merging
melting together
rocking your baby doll
to sweet silver blue...
Now gliding, waltzing
Cajun waltzing
Jolie Blon waltzing
so smooth, so elegant
so easy and tuned in like
skating on ice...
Slow-shag shuffle
Beach sounds on the juke box
barefoot on a sandy floor
Platters, Drifters, Temptations
Intricate, delicate movement
Shuffle to the seagull's call
to the warm gulf breeze
to the pounding rhythm of the sea...
Now shake it, shake a tail-feather
bend over let me see you
shake a tail feather
sweaty, salty, sexy shaking
C'mon baby shake it on down
shake it on down with me...
Last verse based on the song: 'Shake a Tail-Feather' by James & Bobby Purify
Running Away by Maria Magdalena Oosthuizen
I am a part of each leaf that loses its
chlorophyll and fades from green in the maze
of my mind. Again, I try to run through, as if I could
escape, on a search for a flower garden I may
never find. Turning to rest, I laze on dying
grass next to a wall of leaves loosening their
grip to fall upon me. As my calm explodes
in chaos, I awaken from my twisting dreams,
lashing out and gasping to breathe.
Without love, long ago I became trapped
in this web, but now I know love
is the mist that quenches a heart in days of
despair. I often feel lost and alone despite
my truths. So, I perch in my blues high above
in meditation to watch a little girl on
a quest to find love. She steps tentatively
through the dark then stops abruptly to raise
her eyes to mine with desperation and void
of subtlety. I bend over her with a maternal
touch as fallen tears muddy her sinuous
paths, and I see my own face, different
but the same, flawlessly reflected in her tears.
I do not wish to uproot my past. Along my path,
I will plant seeds, look for buds of rebirth, ask
the wind to blow away yesterday’s decay.
Every puzzle has a solution. Pieces
are uncovered under a brightening light,
one that no longer flickers with intent to
disguise. The little girl in need of love still
has wonder in her eyes as she stares into mine.
On a search for love, I ask for true balance
in the Eden of my soul. That little girl
and I will wind our way through the passages
of our labyrinth
hand-in-hand.
Written 6/26/20
Contest – Maze
Sponsor – Dear Heart
The cherry blossom over the Osaka River in Osaka city,
Keeps the castle overhead mesmerized in its beauty,
The pink and white blossom sparkle and shine on nice Spring Day,
Like the stars glowing from supernova in an explosive way.
The spring has heralded its arrival in a magnificent way,
The blossoms bend over to greet the sightseers in Japanese way,
Reflecting its beauty and majesty in the river,
The snow-covered mountains turning green in its wonder.
Cherry blossoms are so reflective and full of charms,
Romance and pleasure have been invoked forever in hearts,
The painting of woman in red and white kimonos picnicking in the park,
Blends the vision of the painter with nature’s most beautiful art.
In the nighttime, the castle is illuminated in nice colors in dark sky,
The cherry blossoms radiate their own heavenly charm in dark sky,
Songs of nightingale make her divine in moonlit night,
The onlookers hope that they would not lose such a beautiful sight.
Throngs of people view the beauty of blossoms, in sheer admiration,
So intricate, they can only be designed by God in heaven,
Butterflies drink its nectar,
Bees and hummingbirds spread its pollen to needy in nature.
On a spring rain, or a windy day, the blossoms depart,
They fall, leave the tree, signifying transience of good life,
The blossoms will be celebrated in dance and art,
I will wait till next spring, to see the cycle of rebirth in life.
Augury – 2-20-25 Edward Ibeh – Sponsor; Title Chosen - Augury; Pick a Title No. 49
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Augury
Embers of prophecy rise
In the haunting omens of owls
Divining tea leaves
Heralds speak future through opaque signs
And signals of frantic dogs
Before earth heaves in shock of slip strikes
Or the coming of rainbows
Born from sun and blackness.
Gossamer angels bend over vanishing logic,
Brooding envoys of dark horses
In clouds of fireflies or heresies,
Burned at the stake of mineral, mist or ice.
Messenger, from the mystical, utters the unseen,
The face of mute words, allegories in shrouds
Calling to fabled grails, emerge from mystery.
Heraldic voice stands outside algorithms
Wears a clear cloak named vision or terror
A visage drifting through past or dawn
In images without bones,
Unshakable the slow creeping spice
Built on shape shifting tides
Like mist from cloud castles
Before seeking birth in the hands
Of reality’s fiction.
I awoke to her smile and her blinding light
when it came to heart and soul she was out of sight
Shadows of trees bend over in effort to enlighten her
but all they did was caress her cheek, for she could not incur
As different as the stars and the moon, she was unique
she heard sounds and things so loud they would yell not speak,
she felt at the power of God's caress though others in stoic ways
immersed her in chaos, as they served her only betrayals;
Until she was identified by what made her different and quite sharp
then at the cutting edge of life, she became a blessing a soft harp
I awoke to her comment, I can feel her silent acceptance and smile
Oh Julie Rodeheaver, you sure know how to write poetry in style
Take care and know that I appreciate you,
but God loves you !!!!!!
written in honor of Julie Rodeheaver
ps, I'm proud of you and who you are
Well you haven't given me much of a reason these past
few seasons to put my whole heart into this so-called
relationship...well I need to know if you still love
me or not...I Need A Reason To Hang Around I don't
know what you expect from me anymore and it's been a
long, long time since Heaven could be found...I really
don't want to leave you but you haven't given me much
to stick around for...well I Need A Reason, I Need A
Reason To Hang Around...I used to think you cared and
maybe you still do but we're like strangers livin'
together and for years that's not been anything new...
I used to bend over backwards for you but when it comes
to me it's like an inconvenient when I need you...well
I'm getting tired of you treating me like you do and I
don't know how many tears I can cry...it seems as tho
you think you got me where you want me well baby I’m
this close to saying goodbye...Heavens no more to be
found and I Need A Reason, I Need A Reason To Hang
around!
They gave our children mind altering
poisonous drugs to eat,
and we said thank you.
They gave our children excessive violence
and sadistic sex films to see,
and we said thank you.
They performed mutilating surgery
on our children’s' genitals, and we said
thank you.
They turned public education into
propaganda and indoctrination,
they blasphemed God and Faith,
they took away our free speech,
took away our free and fair elections,
murdered children about to be born,
telling us to bend over again
this next election --
thank you
thank you
thank you
thank you
thank you
thank you.........................................
Bad bosses wear the same clothes every day
Some of them are called Bob or Bill or Kathy
They smell funny and cry for mommy
Never shake hands with them
You don’t know where their thumbs have been
Bad bosses hate employees who want wages
They kick their dogs and friends
Legends in their minds; they beat their wives
My boss is six feet tall
All of it is *****
Bosses look me up and down
Waiting for me to turn around
They want me to bend over and crack a smile
There must be a factory somewhere out there
That manufactures these freaks of nature
Vaseline does not come with the pay check
When they are done with me
I don’t even get a kiss or cigarette