Best Chesty Poems
Today I found you cornered, drenched in cold,
your fur coat nothing but a newborn's down,
a tiny ball unfolding while I hold
you shivering. Your lacerations frown
and at a distance, I can see the why
of your abandonment, the birds of prey.
I’ve saved you, but you’re causing me to cry:
serrated weapons, Nature’s passion-play,
as blood-attracted sharks, still circling, wait:
I sense the breath-starved fright that made you flee,
those teeth, those claws, you were their blameless bait.
You can’t yet comprehend that you are free.
I see the wounds, some healed, some raw and new,
they're deep, beyond the matted fur and skin.
Four little paws, so tender, sprawled askew,
I seem to feel that you and I are kin.
You mark each move. Mistrustful eyes, so green,
incapable of rest, stir to suggest
you'll try to bite if I will try to clean
the bloodclots, so I hug you to my chest.
You flinch to feel my cuddle. Have I planned
some fiendish way to torture you anew?
The tiny space your wretched life has spanned
has taught you only suffering is your due.
Careful now, I’ll wrap you in a cloth,
And whisper words you cannot comprehend.
Oh tiny one, you're no more than a moth!
It’s alright now. You’ve come across a friend.
Your warmth is blossoming against my breast.
I want to teach you gentleness and calm.
There’s nothing here to threaten you: so rest,
You’re safe now from anxiety and harm.
I'll guard you through the night until you sleep,
until the chesty wheezing eases up.
This is protectiveness, it's seated deep:
I’ll always help a vulnerable pup.
Your heart is racing hard against my hand,
awaiting pain, as wizened captives do.
Believe me, Little One, I understand.
For I have been a broken prisoner, too.
***
May 30, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
"Love Me Or Hate Me" ~ Says the Limerick
I am only five lines written for fun
Mocking someone with foolish words of pun
Love 'em or hate 'em
You praise or condemn
A poetry form some call "hit and run"
Some think of me as inconsequential
To the haughty I am nonessential
It's a thought I refute
And would gladly dispute
Cuz nothing I say is confidential
I read Jan's limericks about Tess Tickle
But did you know Tess spent her last nickle
Buying new underwear
Cause she hadn't a spare
She kept leaking in some sort of trickle
Tess had a good friend with the name of Neve
Cheated by keeping aces up her sleeve
She thought she was smart
Until she got caught
That taught her it doesn't pay to decieve
And then there was the one they called Maisy
Made faces that caused her to look crazy
One day her eye got stuck
And she looked like a duck
So now everyone calls her Miss Daisy
There once was a gal whose name was Mary
Wore wings pretending she was a fairy
Then I swear on my word
She flapped 'em like a bird
And started singing like a canary
Heard them tell about a gal named Sally
Made money hanging out in the alley
But then she got greedy
With those who were seedy
It was curtains in her grand finale
I used to know a chesty lass named Pam
She had to tote them around in a pram
Then had an operation
A booby castration
I heard she now goes by the name of 'Sam'
Did you hear about the one called Yvette
She can't remember and started to fret
It made me want to cry
I can't figure out why
Umm.. umm.. I'm too old and tend to forget
They all gathered 'round some tittered others smiled
The chesty one with the long legs glared,
Nothing can be more inconsiderate than to be told "no"
Your dream is dead
8/1/'13
An
Umbrella
Lemon-yellow brilliant
Over my head and shoulders stooped
Protects me from getting the chesty croup
But praise God for long warm sunny days
Warm inviting outside for a relaxing exhilarating stay
Also
Thank
God
For
Your
Cover
y
a
d
T o -
Valor is a better word
Valiance that invincibly fortitudes,
Anticipates its own unfailing courage,
Letting heart ignite the patriotic fire,
On boundaries proves the sanguine mettle,
Recognise and salute the chesty fearless.
Written Jan 15th, 2016
For contest by Verlena
Awarded HM
When it came to chesty women, I was obsessed.
I wanted a woman who had large breasts.
Now I'm 75 years old and I have something to confess.
I am an old man and I've grown large breasts.
These aren't the kind of boobs that people want to caress.
I put on a 38D bra when I get dressed.
People stare at these big hooters that I've grown.
I no longer need a busty lady because I have big breasts of my own.
(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.)
Morose morn, but sun’s a catalyst, warm
On the eave, the pigeon’s contumely coo,
rids a night’s cumbersome, cold, smother
New day, dearth of dew on concrete lawn
Its dull gray lightened by that eloquent hi
nodding chesty chary iridescence of dawn
Glamor understated or colors long-fading?
Sipping tea by the roost, the bobbing struts
tread decrepit life under roofs, like a caveat
as nearby, shining freeway cars rush, at sea...
roaring mettles endure, seeking 'the' flower
(4/22/2021)
We cannot fight old age – So, when I get there… I’ll just embrace it with a big dollop of humour!! Quote by poet.
My decrepit body makes me cry
Growing old ain’t fun, I cannot lie
My bladder leaks, it makes me sigh
Pelvic exercises I will have to try!
I’m not so agile, I am way too slow
When I need the loo I HAVE to go
Cos I can’t control my urine flow
Pass me a nappy, I won’t say no!!
I piddle when I cough or sneeze
I’m chesty, got an awful wheeze
My boobs have sagged well past my knees
Do I want a new body - ooh yes please!
To hear bird song really loud and clear
I need a hearing aid for my deaf ear
Going totally deaf I truly fear
I’ll get ears checked again this year
My aching limbs sure give me gyp
Got arthritis in my knees and hip
No cure for wrinkles around my lip
Anti aging creams dumped in the tip!
I repeat myself, that’s no falsehood
Instructions can be misunderstood
I repeat myself, that’s no falsehood
Oops my memory is not very good
Cricket is a game of love
Full of puns and innuendo
As a lass I’d love to bowl you over
By having you a maiden over
A couple of opening googlies
Spin balls should do the trick
Middle of the over adds
Two chesty bouncers to the mix
Fifth could be an angler
To draw a lovely catch
Sixth ball to earn a maiden over
What else but a full toss
Just to finish me off
Now all I need to know
With a six dot ball over
Have I won my maiden over
Painful shoulder,
A pain in the neck,
Sore arms,
What the heck?
Chesty cough,
Swollen knee,
Aching joints,
Woe is me.
Runny nose,
It hurts to sneeze,
Enough is enough,
I'm begging, please.
Feeling nauseous,
Pounding head,
Lack of sleep,
I'm going back to bed.
Albert G Walpole, proud legionnaire
Clerk to the council for all of his days
Lived with his mother in Hartington D'Arcy
Nice little end terrace, quite set in his ways
But one Sunday evening, returning from church
This man of high values, a virtuous clean-liver
Was mugged by some yobs full of Shipyard pale ale
Relieved of his wallet and thrown in the river
This tragical brush with recalcitrant youth
Metamorphosised Albert from sweetness and light
Into neighbourhood champion, par-excellence
An enforcer of by-laws and everything right
A tweeded avenger, a man on a mission
To clean up his town and restore proper order
Got on his bike and patrolled day and night with
his helmet-cam synced to his Sony recorder
Keen vigilantes were quickly recruited
Chesty old buffers and ladies who lunch
Weaponisation was swift and effective
Tape-measures, note-pads and radar speed guns
Dog fouling, ball games and illegal parking
Were photographed, logged and reported post-haste
Wheeley bin contents were checked for legality
Closed circuit cameras cunningly placed
........................................
Alas, this account contains no happy ending
As Albert's Avengers are sadly no more
'cause one night in August the townsfolk rose up
And slaughtered our hero and three of his corps
In conclusion it seems there are differing views
As to what is construed as felonious
But one thing's for sure in this contrary world
It's not smart to be too sanctimonious
The Highland Princess
Berthed again
Freshwater Loch
Beautiful Highland Glen
Tranquil pined hillside
Log cabin picturesque
Captain and his dove
Lovingly blessed
As winter sets in
Snow falls so deep
This two in the warmth
In cuddled keep
Roaring log fire
Birch logs a sparking
Face to face
Their hearts a starting
The Captain stands up
And asks for her hand
As he leads her to
A room so grand
Large window they stand
Over the loch they view
He turns to his dove
Declaring, i love you
His manly hands
Undress her so
In her heart she says
Undress me slow
His dove unfeathered
Hands running down her arms
Torso caressed
Her chesty charms
Heaven reached
His hand grooming
As he kisses his dove
Her heart cooing
Four poster bed
Their impressions are made
Moonlight through the window
Passions played
Delicious whispers
In the ear of his dove
As they spoon together
Like a hand in a glove
Together in dreams
Heart to heart
Their next journey
A new start
The troublesome throaty explosion
For which demanded is handkerchief
That helps to hinder hell’s diffusion
By the thoughtless simple man or chief…
The oft-followed by a dragged-out gob
The owner sends straight to nearby soil:
What had tried to chesty freedom rob
And a whole day for sufferer spoils…
A scurrying for antibiotics
Or soon, the chest shall be again heaved:
Haphazard gestures of semiotics,
The jerkily thrown off guard retrieved…
The attacked with, first, expectorant:
Syrupy stuff that keeps it at bay;
For cough’s accursed cause a search warrant,
In one’s airways delightful free way…
Cough’s innocent picture throat-clearing
Yet, muffle for a laughter rearing…
Capsule of disguised danger warning
For one you wish to see, next morning…
Once, I was there to check a tall Zaki
And it became reason to meet khaki,
Very clean but most offices tacky:
A cop could turn one into a lackey!
I know The Police is for the Nation
But I shan’t again a Police Station;
A world plainly paramilitary,
Safer, not better than Solitary,
In every station, obvious gyration;
Canteens that could serve one large ration,
The environment is quite sanitary
But should not clinch The Best Commentary…
Where one runs into AK47,
There holders more than Forty Seven:
Men who could catch rogues but their eyes roguish;
A lot of money make but still languish…
No good guarantee of non-harassment,
A chesty cough attracts embarrassment:
A fat envelope and one reports a case;
A much fatter one to clean and face!
I cannot my body release
To the least hacking disease
For it does spell the end of ease
And me drop on Medicine’s knees.
I shall pay the asked fixed fee
For a winter’s furnace-hot tea
While Government should plant the tall trees
Against our harsh cold breeze…
Men cardigans wear against The Jeez!
We eerily shout as we freeze
I to be not in-the-fridge cheese
Or like the Awfully Chesty wheeze;
To prompt prevention, sticking
Against the time bomb ticking!