Best Bri Poems


Nba Lockout

On July first
There was a lockout
Players couldn't play
It almost knocked me out
Games got canceled so I couldn't see
The New York Knicks play on TV 
But how did it happen? 
Do you really know?
I will tell you everything
That you want to know
First it started with people getting greedy
That's why the deal is not 50-50
Its both the players and owners fault
It should have been 50-50
From the start
Never should have been 57-43
In favor of the players was chosen dumbly
But now there is a new CBA
BRI is 51-49 to this day
And now the season starts on Christmas day
Now you have heard what I have to say

It started on Christmas  
That's checked off my wish list
Now it is a lot of fun
The NBA is not done
66 game season
That’s a reason
To give all you got
And to take the open shot
There were games on Christmas
You didn't want to miss this
I got to see the Knicks 
Plus Carmelo's new kicks
There were a lot of cheers 
Six days from New Years
New year of basketball
All teams will have to fall
It is all the same
It is not a new game
But no teams are locked in
For playoff contention
But who will get there?
30 teams are in the air
© Rohan Viz  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Bride You, Groom Me - Question Mark

(Monkey Shines on Typewriter)

Monkey dreams, sex, more sex,
Banana nice too,
Once in a while!
Tastes better though
When cute butt peels for me
Too much rain,
Smell like stale carpet
Who will groom me now?

Something big comes,
Sure not stinky me!
Haul my ass up tree!
Dominant males
Chest thumping braggarts
Really stink I think!

Whoo Whoo Whooee!
Cute butt three trees over!
Maybe she wet too
No notice stinky me
Mistake me for brother
Until too late! Whooee!

Oh Wow! (thumping chest!)
Sweet, sweet, sweet, treat!
Was it good for you too cute butt?
Oh yes, right there!! Hmmmm!
You can groom me anytime!

Brian Johnston
November 1, 2014

Poet’s notes:
This poem started out as a joke on my current poetry contest that has the Challenge Title – ‘Words – The Heart of Imagination.’ I asked myself if monkeys have no words, but do have imagination like Bri Edwards claims to have in his poem (even without words), and I was translating these mental images in a monkey’s brain into English words as a kind of poem, what would it look like?

Bride You, Groom Me also brings to mind the famous line from the first Tarzan movie after Tarzan saves the beautiful blond Jane from certain death and takes her to his home in the trees swinging on vines with Jane over his shoulder..... He says 'Me Tarzan, you Jane!' Surely the greatest understatement of all time!

I Don'T Have a Title For This One

I get marked by so many people I get scars, and battle wounds,
I get betrayed by everyone, everyone but you,
I got chosen to be your lover, lover for life, and your wife I will stay,
I am untamed , and I hope you can tame me,
I get hunted by those who hate me, but it's me they never find,
I get tempted to just run away to your house, and I don't because it would cause problems.
I got awakened by you my love, and it's you that's mine truly,
I am destined to be with you forever, and forever we will stay. 
BABY I LOVE YOU!
Dedicated To: My Wonderful Husband Dustin James Palmer
Always~N~Forever,
Briana Lynn Palmer
12-5-11
Age:15almost16 Yeah Boii
~Dustin's Faithful and true Wife~
~Dusty N Bri Breezy!~


Spry Bri


There once lived a girl named Bri
and it was her birthday 
She came up with
a rhyme and it was,
it is your birthday so please
do not freeze the cheese.
It is your birthday, so do not cry
and instead be spry.


Aunika Alch
Age 12

Premium Member Bri Edwards Poem Comment

Bri E. may be so smart, but his meter's opaque
with a density quotient, the Gods might forsake.
Tongue in cheek, web's undone, but with spasms of fun,
and he rhymes, so he wins! Hope no evil Bri twins'

in the closet, past-postal on poems that pose
in-depth pulchritude, content, punch syllable's nose!
Let's leave room - puns play part, for perverse forms of art,
time that melts, colored dots; watch Bri's muse tied in knots!


Krakatoa Kritic #007

Does a poem that promotes your humility suggest you're humble?
Hmm! Well, as a grateful immigrant, I try to give Americans a lot
of rope, but I've got my eye on you, Bri! An 8+ to 9- for a fun self-
effacement that sounds fair!

See "Bri's So Smart! !….[ The Truth Must Be Told! ]" a poem by
Bri Edwards on PoemHunter.com!

The Beautiful Star In My Night.(1)

I saw d stars and moon
bow before your feet
Istooped and wonder 
right then my heart
begins to wonder
and then i maevel at your beauty
and the spectacular 
feature of your gaity
Your blue eyes
made me think i was in heaven
but when i saw the moon and stars above me 
then i knew i was right in my paven
your grandeur was glorious
my behaivour was unsteady
and right in your heart 
i knew you thought i was 'notorious'
you lookedgorgious in 
your beautiful attire
Iknew not what to say
and i couldn't retire
you walked close 
to me and for my name
Iwas suprised because you 
cared less about fame
I mumbled out Ga-bri-el
and you said yours was Mabel

                                                                        .....watch out for the concluding part.
© Ayo Okpaku  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member A 'Chicken' One Can Milk

A ‘Chicken’ One Can Milk!

A ‘Chicken’ One Can Milk!
 
Known fact, Hindus believe that no cow should get eaten,
that milk is enough, and their flesh should not sweeten
our tongues (grace a stew)! Let me not steer you wrong! We
more thrive who eat COOKED meat, are less vegetarian.
God’s the ‘mistake’ (that our teeth all EVOLVED to PLANNED niche)?

Who loves chicken-laid eggs (poached, boiled, scrambled) but would ditch
Kentucky Fried Chicken? Is this a sectarian
war or a question of whose a*s gets grilled? Why flee
pleasure for prejudice? Not that I wish to offend,
but how sacred can this be, meat’s whim or a Godsend?

Some may think that I’ve already milked this past season,
my plea, we breed cows to lay eggs (is this treason?)
breed chickens with t**s (we can milk) and give midgets
employment, beyond astronautics (small minds use less
fuel, more bang for the buck) and cash saved feeds the poor

(or enriches the wealthy)? No lobby for deer, door
to barn left wide open; improvements don’t coalesce
that we can squander? Do Buck horns fail, surrogates
pawned off on China while Trump swills ground rhino horns? Lord,
grant us notions or potions, with ‘COVID,’ we’re so bored!


Brian Johnston
21st of July in 2020

Poet’s Notes:
Blame Bri Edwards, ‘THE postal poet’ of Poemhunter.com notoriety
whose friendship (even with retirement) drives me to such excesses!

Classic

I'm wearing a Kimono
& she has on sweats 
We love 
& we laugh 
we hurt with little regrets 
She ordered Chinese 
Then spilled chow mein on my feet
I bring pain to her plate
aiming to balance her being
But she dissipates into space 
No more summer flings
I love my alien
My girl 
My tsmuke 
My bri
Bae on FaceTime manipulating her chi.

One Part 2

I
Ne-
Ver
Want-ed
You to wo-rry a-bout me
I
Am
A-shamed...
Li-tter-al-ly
ig-nored...
so bored
Shar-pen me like a sword
In-ject ink in my blood
I will not cuss..
I will not fuss...
I will not wo-rry...
For, tru-lly
I am true with my-self
I am glued to my low self-i-mage
I am u-gly...
I am not hand-some
Like the rest...
Cuz I tried my har-dest
To write my ve-ry best po-e-try...
Guilt o-ver-flowz
Ne-ver fails...
Ne-ver fails...
Ne-ver fails...
Feel me...
Touch me...
I am numb and dumb
I am the scum...
Of the Earth...
I neeeeeeed God's ha-ven-like mirth
I wish I was not a-live
The curse of my birth as I've
Seen in the mir-ror
I am in err-or
I am like a game with a glitch
I can act like, oh no, a *****
O-pen the door
I a-dore
Leave. Me. A-lone.
Wait.
Wait.
My eyes glow-er
I grow on like a Spring flow-er
E-ver-y sin-gle ho-ur
Seed, I am...
Plant me in the river like a damn...
Cuz I real-ize...
I am as bo-ther-some as a mill-i-on flies
No more bi-dding me guh-byes
I am u-nigue
I am stoo-pid
Get rid
Of this a-nger boil-ing in me...
Get OUT of ME
Soothe me down
Massage my frown
And uplift it 
Ascend thy lips
Descend thy hips
Wings of win-ter glow and grow
Lear-ning how to deal
With the pain so un-real
Now, e-ver-y-bo-dy knowz
Where the wi-cked wind blowz
I am dead in-side
But, alive in the out-side
I look in-ward
then, I look out-ward
I am awk-ward...
Like being friends with a bird
When I am the ant...
Lear-ning all o-ver a-gain
Like a cute in-fant
Like the one right next to me.
I en-ded it on a bri-ghter note at least.
This verse is mi-ghty beast.

The Moment

Bri and I lying cuddled on the hammock just before night
Looking up to the skies with anticipation of a glorious sight
Watching the clouds travel while creating imagery to view
As we pointed to the artwork created before our eyes anew

Look Papaw! with excited voice she pointed out to me
The perfect teddy bear which she wanted 
me to see
It was so:  two ears, a nose, and those two precious eyes
Then a puppy dog was formed as the clouds passed on by

Laughing as we were looking for more artwork to form
While making up new things, being silly became the norm
Oh what joy as I held my grand baby  just before night
The moment to cherish, while I held her so lovingly tight

Beautiful River

B-eautiful 
R-iver 
I-s 

E-xhibiting 
D-elightful 
W-ater 
A-fter 
R-unning 
D-ry 
S-orrowfully 

Topic: Poet (Bri Edwards) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic

Premium Member Air Drop

Little white airplane let's go for a fly
The reason I want to, between you and I
Is not to go cruise o'er the top of the earth
It's to send off a message for someone who's worth
All the planning required to do such a thing
Whatever I'm able, to her I will bring
Skills as a pilot, songs on guitar
Poems and bookmarks, the best way to barre
All that I have I will give to her too
Cleared now for takeoff, all checklists are through 
Up over yonder her house is right there
Let's start from the north and draw hearts in the air
Again and again 'til her face we can see
There she is, look down, she's waving at me
Wait, go down closer, no way, what is this?
Little white airplane, she's blowing a kiss!!

Premium Member stories about Charley Lou

Charley Lou is a mouse who is totally hip
At age thirteen, she thinks she has a grip.
She wears plaid skirts that flip at her hip
A pro at giving truant officers the slip.

I have it on authority from a likely source,
Charley Lou’s high-top shoes are from Chicago of course
Dangling in her ears are clip gears from her cousin Boris.
She wears Scottish plaid skirts from a Celtic source.

The teenage mice sometimes give Charley Lou the eye.
She is dangerous though, says my cousin Bri.
We know she is crafty, conniving and sly.
She lured one guy into a trap that made him die.

What kind of a trap? We asked, horrified.
I hoped the gossip had been outrageously glorified.
No one could attest that the rumor was one bit true.
Just one of many stories about sassy Charley Lou.

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