Best Bowled Over Poems
Meeting my homegirls Wilma Neels
and Kim Van Breda with shrieks and squeals
hasty introductions and we're on our way
for a night of reading at Poetry Café
We've Yasmin to thank for arranging the meet
with fellow Soupers, a veritable treat
Yasmin the sneak had their names withheld
we're apprehensive yet still by curiosity propelled
My fingers are crossed to meet Eileen
fave poetess mine, the Passionate Queen
dare I wish to meet hamsome Ryerson
not to mention Anne-Lise Andresen?
On first glance the café seems somewhat rowdy
from one of the corners a chorus of "Howdy!!!"
heaven help!! I'm rooted to the spot
all my fave poets from the Souper pot
The Queen of Passion, my special friend
Eileen Ghali, an angel heaven-sent
with open arms and that beguiling smile
that's touched us all over thousands of miles
I spot our Father Christmas, Jackie Ellison
Oh my, mercy me, the hamsome Tim Ryerson
then the beautiful being, Anne-Lise Andresen
and our pretty young doll, Anne Poetess Currin
Andrea, crack writer and popcorn freak
and Nette Onclaud, Madame Linguistics
the talented and sweet Leonora Galinta
oh, for a long time I've longed to meet her
There's the much-loved Reach-Out Lamoureux
a stylish gentleman, delighted to meet you
our very own Linda who happiness spreads
memorable the day as Brown Licia meets Red
He who writes poetry with a golden pen
bestest, fantasticest, hamsomest friend
Rich-Heart Seal-ed Door, my bruv from abroad
by his smile I'm bowled over; by his charm I am awed
I'm jumping with joy at my fave poets meet
befuddled, bewildered; who first to greet?
midst the mountain of talent I'm on a positive high
overwhelmed, I simply break down and cry
This one needs a whole lot of polishing and smoothing
out, but I was too excited to submit it. I'll iron out the
crinkles soon. LOVE TO YOU ALL, LICIA
Bowled over, kneading you, feeling sub-lime
from my head tomatoes. Hear my heart beet!
Eggcited, wonton you olive the thyme.
Donut you carrot all for me at yeast?
You’re one in a melon, sweet sugar pie,
forbidden fruit I find so appeeling.
Cherry on the cake, apple of my eye.
Has there bean love? Don’t berry the feeling.
It’s a big dill and takes two to mango.
I’d sacri-rice all because you compleat me.
You oat to love me. Peas, love miso!
Just food for thought. Chew that fat with your tea.
I have so mushroom in my heart for you.
A pizza your heart? Say yes, honey - DEW!
Dec. 28, 2017 for Viv Wigley's Food Fight Poetry Contest
Remembering the days of yesteryear
when family ties were held most dear,
gas lamps flickered in the back street
while most of us danced a different beat.
Tragic alleyways of smog and smut
“Live over the brush”* branded a sl*t,
silhouettes infringe the darkest night
gullible back shift broke the morning light.
Adventurous nights at “Townhead Mill”
eight pints of beer the back porch thrill,
when no meant yes in rapturous skill
to fumigated music from “Nashville.”
Obnoxious libertine this bread man
bay curtain drawn delivery van,
the situation conspired indiscretion
clinical the world’s oldest profession.
Sporting gentlemen in summer bliss
caught first ball costly night on the piss,
pavilion home to moorside drover
many a chaste maiden bowled over.
Partial pilgrimage down “Bolton Road”
black and amber heroes round ball code,
liniment buoyant throughout the room
manly skills embroider the village groom.
Cardinal days steeped in “Rock ‘n’ Roll”
sire in fear of them out of control,
a colossal wedge between cultures
in shadows of decency vile vultures.
Repetitious days of school yard might
the bullies reduced one’s life to plight,
parents queried yet misunderstood
reasons for mayhem in the neighbourhood.
Lad and lasses lost in “Hide and seek”
games of “Stroke a back” every week,
by the old school grounds we all did laik**
now the street is naked for heaven sake.
Why on earth would a mind keep drifting back
this poetry constantly placing me on track,
when life was a role without fame or stars
only toil and trepidation and these scars?
© Harry J Horsman 2013
*Living in sin
** Play
Bowled over completely
By the sight of flowers
Beside the babbling brook
Breathtakingly adorned
Balancing on tiptoes
Before my eyes, poised like
Bolshoi ballerinas.
--------------------------
Contest: Pleiades- B
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Placed 2nd
15th August, 2016
Emotions diverse
'pon reading your verse
laughing and crying spontaneous
face a-beaming
tears a-streaming
joyful and sad smile-utaneous
My head is swollen
my heart all but stolen
wending across the vast pond
may stars shine my smiles
on you o'er the miles
of whom I'm mutually fond
I'm honored; moreover
positively bowled over
by your verse with acumen penned
of untold pleasure
your writ I will treasure
crack poet and much-cherished friend
TO TERRELL MARTIN, A WORDSMYTHE OF NOTE
silently blowing
in a bated breath
magically
i whisper
in the breeze
my dearest
bowled over
amazing beautiful
far away
in a starry sky
the heart
just missed
a beat
a feeling
within one's breath
did you
just kiss
my soul
coming out
in mist
with the sweetest
most beautiful words
a soul
of such beauty
shining at
the rainbows end
my god
never let
one see
those beautiful eyes
tipping one's hat
i smile to you
if ever i did
i would adore
the light
within the candle
you hypnotize
my dreams
melting in the deepest
embracing one;s soul
one with yours
beyond words
the soul flies
in the spirit
ocean waves
crashing onto
the cliffs
kissing you passionately
tonight i dream
its you
I am in love. I’m pretty sure now.
I keep getting lost in the labyrinths of my mind,
thinking about you, wondering how to connect with you
again. I stop working at times, trying hard not to
fall for you even more every single day.
But I know I’m a gone case,
totally bowled over
by you.
Our relationship defies all norms,
I hear you around me all the time, looking deeper
into your meaning of this new feeling I’ve got. I stop in
my tracks when I read something that reminds me
of our inseparable bond. No one can tear
us apart. Not now, not ever.
We are born to be
together.
Yes, I’m totally in love with you.
It’s a wonderful thing,
this love, it has
changed me.
Our kinship
will bloom and
evolve into something
beautiful, I got a gut feeling about us.
Let me introduce you to my friends
so that they too may
fall in love
with you.
Yes, I’m in love…
…with words.
06.26.2021
For Charles Messina's "Surprise me" contest
Upon the Shelf
by
Kevin L Fairbrother
I spied it sitting on the shelf
A pretty shape and so smooth
It set my pulses racing
And my eyes bulged in my head
…
I picked it up with gentle touch
And caressed the smooth skin
My fingers explored the bottom
Then ran up to the head
…
I put my face against the skin
Was bowled over by the aroma
So I kissed it on the head
Then bit it on the shoulder
…
The juices flowed I sucked them up
And peeled the skin from the flesh
Caressed the body so round and smooth
Which made more juices flow
…
The flesh so sweet.. oh so sweet
I was drunk with ecstasy
All gone now.. just lingering sweet taste
Which makes me want to
Pick another Orange off the shelf
Inspired just now whilst eating an orange
Tension you can cut with a knife.
The crowd so divided.
Players with limbs so lithe.
Three long months since they last collided.
Into the circle centre took a step.
The whistle was blown.
Next instant, the players after the ball leapt.
So competitive. So in the zone.
Brothers verses Sisters.
Husbands verses wives.
No Missus or Mister's.
Just two teams. Two sides.
Wing attack bowled over.
Wing defence offside.
If your gonna challenge us ever.
At least revise the rules, guys!
Treating it too much like football,
Long shots over head.
No short and fast passes of the ball,
Like play should be instead.
Goal attack sharp and fast.
Goal defence big and...just big.
Bounce passes needed for our lead to last.
Pathetic is their too confident jig.
Goal keeper so tall.
Solid in defence.
Goal shooter so small.
Imparts their skill thence.
At the edge of the hall.
One hundred breaths were held.
Now! The three second rule!
No closer a stare on that ball could've been held.
Up past the keepers wild lunge.
High above the net.
Before down, down- the plunge.
Right through that scraggerly net.
Excitement rapidly boiling.
Till echoed the explosion.
Seven girls with joy squealing.
Seven guys in gutted humiliation.
But we hold up our hands.
At the final score.
Your win of that game stands.
And your sportsmanship we implore.
But come the summer.
When we play you again.
We'll show no mercy.
Even to you our men.
Until that fateful day,
Peace over our church reigns.
After all, the more fun it'll stay.
If rare the satisfaction remains.
Kopastetic
Not even barely breathing chest thumping like a tamburine n
Trying to be decent
But the whole situation has my chest wheezing head pounding heart leaking for what a bloodclot reason.
The explanation was just weak why not admit defeat when got the speaking
It just ain't kosher if shoe was on the other foot I'd be bowled over tenderized n put in the George forman
roll-toaster-ry
Open dialect with open mindedness
Even said of how I'm understanding this
Even tho I was so heated I was shaking n
This isn't the end becuz it was turned around on me of past tense
I couldn't even believe this but it did
Get to that extent
Yet it made no sense I open up this hidden agenda that wouldn't have been exposed if I wouldn't have
looked for why my body had sleep kept from me ......peace
Life’s punches - roll with ‘em or get bowled over - your choice
Either way, you still have to pick yourself up
Inspired by Brian Strand's Contest
The number four shows form, pleasurable are their colours
Where normally it takes daylight to glow, to nurture natures flower
Resonating to elation, affirming these coloured bonds
The indifference of, blinded severely in respond
Amidst his darkening dark, sighs abound from two
In preach, clouded sermon is relayed, to run this virgin through
*~*
Such closeness in revel they, tongues asping if desiring more
What shall be the outcome, who addresses life's future door
Fervent zeal remains, against this backdrop of darkened hell
Yet, she demands and delivers he, again his body swells
*~*
Content, now comfort reached, she resides within his grip
Engulfed has the white become on this entering darkening trip
Saliva drenched, his head now bowed, engrossed, achievement said
Enriched by absorbing the white, amidst both, this stead
Her looks of hunger abound, naked like birth, blossomed rife
Do we dare to think of our surface, and what becomes of life
*~*
Like a sweetened girl in love, she looks up and admires the dark
One can only fear our tomorrows, our white dove joins his stark
Her body perky and peached, en-riched, she's now bowled over
Leg raised in content, in his dark there can be called clover
*~*
An aching hunger cries for more, in torrid lustful bites
His talons become their union, this darkened redded night
Taking, she invites him so, to suckle on her charms
Is this the virgin we knew, who once stood all alarmed
Manipulated she now is, her abundance he's now in grace
Shall she bow to her superior, in his darkly grimly place
*~*
Entwined they re-unite, as she absorbs his ogre charms
Invitingly she takes, her lips like a welcoming balm
He's tasted, taken in, in release he's in comfort gain
Her light engrossed with his dark, goes against the grain
*~*
Learning when/how to close seat then...
flush... the toilet with good frisson!
(alternately titled long windedly
using lower case letters:
no matter tidily bowled over based
upon real events, perhaps subject devoid
of literary merit and/or taste
no embarrassment, cuz
I got nothing to cover
despite precious time going to waste).
Analogous to constipation,
constitutes full term pregnancy,
perhaps umpteenth or first,
which former offal bodily function I durst
mention, said subject doth stink,
yet... exercising bowel
applicative, constrictive, effective,
exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,
massive, oppressive, qualitative,
quantitative, significative and unitive
(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)
both scenarios prone to stress and strain,
difficulties can arise evacuating bowels
gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,
radiating sharp stabbing sensations
behind junk in trunk quarters felt
until bulging temple veins ready to burst,
where piles of hemorrhoids
foul rectum tortured and accursed
necessitating Judas Priest well versed
to issue last rites while
appropriate official dull livers worst
news to missus, whose
inconsolable sympathies nursed,
nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow
honor alone time with grateful dead
subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,
privately newly minted widow mourning
tears for fears immersed
bemoaning sudden permanent absence
gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first
instance obliterated, when posterior
uproariously (actually not funny)
inflicted hemorrhage emergency,
die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced
all expense chauffeured ride in hearst
aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable,
courtesy hearsay, when
hypothetical woman with child,
(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)
as maven ready to take aim giving birth
(nine months after satiating
hankering call of the wild
buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,
and temporarily appeased
inherent maternal yearning
to beget offspring, then... off to races
sprinting at greased lightning speed
amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,
(among other fledgling
and/or practiced moms avid runners
all touted as winners relay race crossing
finish line simultaneously
comprising distance measuring more'n verst.
Love bowled
over beautiful
I tip the hat
To it's light
Floating
Under and over
Dazzled
Beyond dreams
Made in
emotions beauty
A Greek goddess
Put together
like a dream
Everything about you
A soul it shines
Words become electric
Charged
Touching divine
A light in the dark
Shining through
You stand out
In more ways
Than one
Wings of an angel
Unfolding you
Applauding
In the deep
I fall
to you
From the greatest height
The walls
crash down
Like that of Jericho
Loving you
My heart
In your desire
Head over heals
flipping beautiful
Badicoot and tomato
A paraqueet pie
Groper head and shoulder, boiled
A melbourne pancke
Cactus fruit jelly
A 'gud' day's
Sport !
Courtesey of Mrs Beeton