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Best Chew On Poems | Poetry

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Chew On That by Schumacker, Earl
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When A Man Cries

No one ever told me that your heart could bleed without a drop that anyone could see. I didn't know your soul could lose weight that your shadow could get thin. I had no idea that there were dry tears that one could shed while sporting a joker’s smile for the crowd.

No one told me you could be naked, closed within yourself, folded and squatting in the black, as your pillow bled white against the dark but I have had those nights.

I know I have walked miles alone left a trail three miles deep in the cement on the street where I reside. I remember and still live moments where everyone talks as if we are in echo chambers and my ears catches every word and my mind never processed even one.

My mother never warned me that love could be so deep. She didn’t tell me that another could own so much of you. I still weep dry ice tears. I still scream in empty fields the wind against my back to mask my wail and hide my pain.

I know I still function perfectly. I still roll the dice , last week I bought Boardwalk and when I crossed Go I collected my two hundred dollars. As far as the board game world knows I’m just quieter than I use to be but fine otherwise maybe even improved.

So in these days of my haze as I function in a fog of loss I replay that moment over and over again. She is gone, she left me in a rage and frankly I was confused because she played the love game until the last moment, until that moment.

I admit I'm ashamed how the crows tear at my flesh just thinking of her with another man. How the sun burns when I see her smile or think of her laugh shared sincerely with another guy. 

Apparently she never gave me that. In my blindness I accepted us as in love but she tells me now so many years later how she despised me but never said a word.

Me the fool I still want her I still yearn for her touch. I would chew on nails just to sit with her. Why is my love so deep, so singular? Other people move on. I’ve seen it. She is gone, she wasn't even here those twenty years plus. She wasn't around when she bred our child. Why won’t I move on?

No one ever told me that losing her would be like this. Told me that you could break every bone in your body and it would hurt less than this less than losing her. When I knew she was gone for good when I finally accepted it, I cried until I couldn't cry another tear and then I cried some more. 


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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Thank's Soupland

Sunday morning coffee
attracted to this screen
soupland is my toffee
my java needs no cream

Where we all chew on our pencil's
our pen's no longer quill's
we hack this keyboard wonder
exciting mental thrill's

We read eachothers thought's
emotions never drought
constant rain,a train of verse
I find myself immersed

Sharing our complaints and want's
but never do we point or taunt
we may occasion disagree
but that's what makes you,you,

Freedom of expression
with a touch of cool discretion
allows this site for us to write
feeling neither wrong nor right

I enjoy my time spent sharing
even if it might be much
but if I might be daring
on subject's lightly touched

So to all my friends at soupland
I say thank you,extended hand
a place where we grow together
and weather this world's whatever's......

Copyright © jay del fierro | Year Posted 2007

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A Horse Life

In a horse life.We can play with a burlap feed
bag, an empty milk jug, or chew on the barn stall
door.Just to kill some time, or to kill some every
day bordom.In a horse life.We get names like
Black Beauty, Flicka, Seabiscuit, or Secretariat.
In a horse life.We do tricks like bowing our heads
down, or placing our shoe upon a pedastool.Picking
up the cowboy hat.While tapping our feet rata-tat-tat.
In a horse life.We like a good block of salt.With lots
of minerals, to lick upon.A wholesome bale of hay.To
start off a brand new day.Or a bucket of grain.To keep
us all healthy, fat, and sane.And a fresh bucket of water, 
to wash it all down.In a horse life.I could be losing a 
horseshoe.While the rider is losing his mind.In a horse
life.We can be a workhorse, a race horse, or a trick pony.
Or maybe a showhorse, or possibly a circus horse.With
out all the phoney baloney.In a horse life.We can run all
day in the open sun, or run the race trak.While the betters
place their wagers.Of course, at the horse racing track
betters window.In a horse life..

A Horse Life Poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2011,2014..All rights reserved.

Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards | Year Posted 2014

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Close My Eyes And Dance Away

Give me all of my private time 
I will succumb without a fight
And later be your every whim
First those few seconds of respite
Before once more I crawl through slime
Notice how once my gown was white 
But cooked with silted tears and grime

Give me one minute of your day
To bend and chew on and enjoy
Before you take it all away 
To you I am no more than a toy
Commodity for you to play
Inconvenience, little joy
Your Little Lord Fauntleroy

Give me a second and I crawl -
To sleep, forget about the day -
To the stone against the wall
Close my eyes and dance away
Jump so high and never fall
The uncrowned king of ballet
Applauded in the dance hall

My mind is free, my mind is mine
My words have meaning, see them shine


March 13, 2017
© Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

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An Analytical observation into the causation of Earthquakes

Firstly, one has to take into account their scientific peers’ remarks,
As to the likely cause of how an Earthquake starts.
Some forums say it is caused by the shift in tectonic plates,
Others seem to doubt, seem to hesitate.
Some believe a government conspiracy of a machine that causes the devastation,
Their conspiracy being at the cost of the suffering of another nation.

The layman believe, if all the people in China, at the same time jump,
It would cause worldwide earthquakes as their feet come down with a thump.
Nevertheless, to conduct such a feat would be a difficult task
Therefore it has never been tested and is considered a farce

I have read the theories from all these schools of thought,
And collated the facts that backs my theory which is now widely taught.

Take some time to cogitate the facts
Sit back and take the time to chew on the fat
You will see the simplicity in my theory
And say to your self it’s all true how eerie

The Earthquakes are caused by, you guessed it me and you
From the sexual experiences we all go through 


“I felt the Earth move, how was it for you?”
And she would say “I felt it tremble and saw fireworks too”

I saw Jane today, you know, the one that makes me go weak by the knees
She’s a real knee trembler a real sex tease 

Now imagine these experiences on a grand scale,
No think bigger than me misses; I know she’s bigger than a whale
They say there is a couple having naughties every second of the day
That’s many earth moving experiences I have to say 
These minor trembles are absorbed by the earths crust from these sensations
That occur in every town, country, and among diverse nations

So when you lie in bed savouring the tasty aftermath
Before you decide to take a bath
When you think how he or she made you feel the earth move
You have contributed to the making of earthquakes and there’s the proof.

Good night

Copyright © Sidney Hall Mad Poet | Year Posted 2011

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The Meaning of The One - Part I

Such a weight, these boulders of depression.
Carrying them has become a useless, sad obsession...
A way to define the core of self, the Inner Being
Only talk of lightening the load, no thought of ever freeing...

A soul's place is through the void, to be preserved forever in ice, 
Ice of Blue hues and Nothings - so nothing to avoid.

Grey grit mixes with the mist of time expired. Dirty memories.
Several generations based on the same pattern.
Reproduced but not rewired.

Currents lost in cul de sacs and weeping men in doorways,
Bottled laughter auctioned off then vapourised by sun's rays.

Tell me this, TELL me the story -
is man aglow, or does he bask in God's Glory?
The wonderings and whisperings of those who need to blend.
No-one can figure out who is foe and who is friend.

Hearts breaking with audible cracks while demon's chew on pain,
keeping anger as their snacks.
Leaching colour from the world around.
Searching till every weakness is found - preying on insecurities and lust
till the last bones are but powder and dust.

Endless Grey is all I see.
Even my shadow has departed from me;
But I stand straight and hold myselt tall -
never moving in case I should fall.
Don't look left, and don't look right lest fear attacks your need for flight.

Loose the soul, cut silver threads for Divinity swings low.
Don't end the game before it's begun, take care to walk it slow...

Walk it slow for those who lag behind and fast for those who run.

Every searching till you find...

The Meaning of The One.

Copyright © Tanya Bunge | Year Posted 2012

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Nine Lives

He stares at his liquor bottle, and remembers the time
he sacrificed his life to the ocean depths;
a dolphin steadily rushed him to the shallows,
then allowed the evening currents to carry him to the shores.
That night he erased the X he had put on his calendar;
the day he was to die.
A few weeks back, he had tied a noose round his neck;
he let go the chair, only for the rope to cut.
"Am I cursed?!" he shouted.
He wondered whether Fate kept him alive,
to let him chew on the memories of his Ex,
which hurt like hell.
One fortnight, he even ate a lot of peanuts,
forgetting that it’s only in his dreams he was seriously
allergic to them.
He’s really eager to die,
but death is always shying away from him;
existence is a riddle he isn’t in the mood to respond to….

Date of Entry: 25/08/2017

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2017

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They follow you like vultures
soaring in wistful circles
alighting on church roofs
at weddings and christenings,
never out of your sight
and chew on your dreams.
Their shadows mark the good things
that could have been yours
and spatter your life with the droppings
of what ifs and maybes.
Your past is inaudible over their constant chatter,
and when you lie still, fading, 
with your family looking on,
they perch at the foot of your bed
and laugh

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016

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It licks it's raspy way across the land,
and peeks around and drools at our abode.
A plume of ash to blacken every man,
and leaves our children standing in the road.
Devours hot crackling sounds in baby's ear,
with lullaby of death, it encroaches.
It swallows cozy shelter, dock, and pier,  
drying up our lake as it approaches.
Then feasting on all creatures great and small, 
it spits out raw bones, or glass, and metal.  
No blaze can chew on such metallic squall, 
nor munch the bones of Grimm's, bravest Gretel. 
A ravenous and lively old fire beast,
pops us down as hors d'œuvres for the feast.

By Edlynn Nau 
© October 14, 2017 

Dedication to the people of the 17 California Fires: with special love to Mendocino County, Lake County, Napa County, Sonoma County, & Santa Rosa. 

Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2017

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The clanking sound of spurs, the sun’s glare
off the shiny doppelganger derringers.
Her hat tipped onto her sweating brow.

“Contests! We don’t need no stinking contests!”

Her cowhide boots kick up the prairie dust.
She’s not your quintessential grandmother.

Her torrential windpipe words ready for a fight.

“I will be number one! Like it or not!”

She spits tobacco into the air, daring a challenge,
and it drops at the feet of the biggest contest.

“Chew on that one...for a while!”

A patch over one green eye, the jealous one. She wears it
as a badge of honor. No one messes with Lady Cogburn.

Like showing off pictures of her family, she lets a scroll roll loose.
Her adjectives and verbs, nouns and sounds.

“I dare anyone to steal my verse! Who's brave enough 
to roll out one of their own!”

She spits and stares them down, as one courageous chick
steps forward and just as quick she lays her low.

“Contests! We don’t need no stinking contests! Now the rest of you scram!”

Dodge City, the ghost town, has one occupant. She lights her Virginia Slims, lets her poetic smoke circle the air — like vultures.

Contests! We don’t need no stinking contests! Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless

Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2018

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They Are Legion

In the deepest, darkest, dankest depths,
the creatures plan and hedge their bets,
they ponder just how bad we'll get,
and smoke their foreign cigarettes.

Concentrating on the Middle East,
they've hatched and raised a hateful beast,
and guaranteed they'll be no peace,
so war and suffering will not cease.

In Africa their foothold's firm,
so many die from spreading germs,
they love to watch the infants squirm,
their bloated flesh the food for worms.

Their goal is to destroy mankind,
plant seeds of hatred in our minds,
their pact with Satan's sealed and signed,
in blood upon the dotted line.

The rain forest is their target, too,
cage all the creatures in a zoo,
cut down the trees and plant no new,
and watch the greenhouse gasses spew.

Make sure the seas are full of trash,
and oil spills as hulls are gashed,
they want to see our hopes be dashed,
the dice are thrown, the die is cast.

They sit and chew on monkey bones,
and laugh as storms destroy our homes,
in league with trolls and hunchbacked gnomes,
they breed in secret catacombs.

The darkness glides on silent wings,
and is repelled by just one thing:
the song of prayer our hearts sing,
with love we can defeat this thing.

Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2008

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Roast of an UNNAMED Poet

He's packin' magic Viagra
Muse infused grooves set the mood
grab ya' and stab ya' 
we're opposites 
still we speak the same language 
teach and preach truth
every time I stop to see what he's droppin' 
my dang pen commits sin, flips a lid  
ink pours, runs down the paper like Jill Abramson did the NY TIMES
just in time verse transfers kinetic energy 
activating a semantic force field
formulating symbiosis through synergy   
swimming in puddles of puns
changing sans rays into rays of sun 
you can hear bums humming metonym hymns from the Twin Cities to Tuscan
igniting a revolution of prostitutes and hooligans on hallucinogens to scoot  
loose from futons 
learn to earn and swim with loose Louis Vuitton boots on 
whacked out kids from Pakistan with crack in hand hear his pen 
and pack into Shaggin' Wagon vans to kick up sand and
do their dance and just hold hands 

the whole globe huggin' like cousins 
uncovering hovering heteronomy mysteries evading lexicographers throughout 
centuries of history
he's teaching wide eyed chicks to utilize polysemy by demonstrating thermal 
viscosity rates of his balls and prick
my mental lexicon is spinning 
so I'm sinnin' then  I'm grinnin' and grabbing inflatable girlfriends over for 
dinner then dessert to be followed immediately by frenzied poetic circle jerks

I must admit the fabric of his hyperbole allegoristic-ally makes me 
wanna  on·o·mat·o·poe·ia in my pants and break into a hyper pole dance!
he's coordinating conjunctions
box munching at the junction
whole heartedly gets retarded with descriptive hard-ons 
vast array of play-on words for you ladies to chew on
verse for verse
inch for inch
tit for tat 
this and that 
hot and heavy with romance 
enough to make a man wear a hard hat 
there inside the high rise 
under construction in the pants
damn Mister (CENSORED), atta-boy!
and though I'mma boy with no vagina, boy 
(you don't mind if I call you mister by design there boy?)

Man, the images your tongue twisters send 
I must commend and admit 
if you had a different rear end...
then WO'-man
I might have to apprehend your *** with my ten inch night stick, oh hell, it's 
just past a hard seven, but who's countin' man? 

As you see poetry is a curse conjuring harmful words of demonic proportions 
reading your scriptures' depictions interrogatively tells me these inscriptions 
are precisely the prescription I need to erect the sword which could ultimately 
lead to seismic abortions...dang...
Did I just type that? 

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014

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Night Light Madness Pantoum

Night's grassy fields furrowed beneath starry bait,
calls us to cast ourselves upon the straw,
above the Pointillist's daubs spark a hungry slate
to entice our soul while we chew our chaw.

Where we render ourselves like straw
we skew limbs and mimic far-off Orion,
enflame our heart while we chew on chaw
and drink ourselves numb on Milky Way ions.

Limbs askew we guard like Orion,
count falling stars and bargain our wishes,
drunk on Milky Way ions,
we battle mosquitoes with snaps and swishes.

Counting falling stars that grant our wishes,
we poll the planets and ignore Man's moons,
battle free of mosquito's little bitty swishes,
we hope for snipe, snipe and settle for morning loon.

Planet's poll finished and ignored void of Moon,
let's us cradle beneath stardust flaring Bourealis,
until our hope for snipe is settled by morning loon,
when we rise on frozen limbs heated by sun's kiss.

Heart cradled within stardust-flaring Bourealis,
mind drifting on Pointillist drape of hungry slate,
no longer wobbling on limbs heated by sun's kiss,
we're content night cultivated our star-mad fate.

Sheri Fresonke Harper
for Paula Swanson's Pantoum Contest due 12/10/2010

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2010

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Commercial Slam - Part II


Elderly Lady: Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!
First Alert: Duly noted, will there be anything else?
Elderly Lady: Are you going to call an ambulance?
First Alert: Ambulance?  Heck no! Call one yourself
Elderly Lady: But I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!
First Alert: (Sigh) Can’t you just kind of roll around or something?
Elderly Lady: What the…What did you say?
First Alert: Lord! Deaf as a doornail too
Elderly Lady: Please! Can you at least give me some advice?
First Alert: Now she thinks we’re Dear Abbey….


Customer: How’s it flowin’ Flo?
Flo: Just rollin’ with the flow ya’ know?
Customer: I love the way your words flow, Flo…You put them together so well
Flo: What’s THAT supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m well put together?
Customer: No Flo, I-I meant…Y-you’re a real flower, Flo
Flo: Ain’t NOBODY messin’ with MY flower
Customer: Um…
Flo: And I SURE ain’t no flower child either
Customer: U…
Flo: Stop interrupting me! You wanna’ buy some insurance or what?
Customer: N…
Flo: Security!


Nine out of ten doctors recommend taking Tylenol:
(The tenth doctor lost his license for recommending street-drugs)

Nine out of ten doctors recommend smoking Camel cigarettes:
(The tenth doctor unfortunately couldn’t recommend a doggone thing because he died of lung cancer)

Four out of five dentists recommend chewing sugarless gum for those patients who chew gum:  
(For those patients who do not chew gum the fifth dentist recommended chewing tobacco and got his *** chewed out by the national association of dentists hooked on tobacco laughing gas and pain pills and they took his license away too they said here’s something for you to chew on sucker the fifth dentist said chew on this you mother you know what at least I’m just hooked on tobacco y’all are hooked on laughing gas and pain pills too they said don’t tell on us the fifth dentist said I won’t tell only if you give my license back but I’m still gonna tell your mommies on you and they’ll chew all your sorry asses out for sure they said ok whew that was close the fifth dentist said I’m in a bad mood now give me some of that laughing gas they did and he started giggling then the rest of them took some too and they all started giggling and partying somebody called the cops and they were thrown in jail at the trial the prosecutor drilled them mercilessly they gave up and pled no dentist but got off on a technicality when they bribed the judge and the prosecutor with some laughing gas they started giggling and said aw you guys are okay then the judge accidentally pled guilty and sentenced both himself and the prosecutor who are now both currently serving two count em two consecutive life sentences for god knows what…)

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2013

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The Trouble With Trolls

Wait !  the troll said.....
As he jumped in front of him.
You have the smell of human on you.
Therefore, I can not let you pass thru.
The mouse said, but I have just what you need.
The troll looked him up and down,  and ask.
Now just what would that be?

What is it that you think you have?
       " That I want", ask the troll.   
The mouse always heard that trolls were 
         really very stupid.

    The mouse replied......
But you let the others pass.
I know this because I saw it.
Troll answered, yes, but, that has nothing to do with you. 
And if you displease me, I will eat you on this day.

      The mouse thought to himself.......  
Magic always works, but, only when you think you haven't
been tricked.

Troll replied, well I'm waiting, to cook you in my dinner pot. 
Within my cave of cold gray stone as I chew on your bones.
Though I do prefer the taste of human little girls, and boys.

 The mouse got that gleam in his eye, "as he replied". 
When I was out and about this very morning I saw the valley.
Where all the human girls and boys come out to play.
There's even some that hang out in a basket all day.

The troll's eyes got very big, as he asks", where is this valley?
The mouse said, with a big grin, why", it's just back over that hill.
The troll said, if you are lying to me, I will eat you when I get back. 
And he walked off over that hill, as he said, wait for me here.

The mouse waited till the troll was far enough away.
So he could be on his way, the mouse thought to himself.
There really may be a valley where the human children play.
But not over that hill, maybe over another hill, but not there.
At least ways not anywhere near that hungry old troll.
As the mouse went on his way,  he thought...... 
The trouble with trolls is,  " they're really very stupid".

4/ 27/ 2012 pm

Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013

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Night Of The Living Dead

Rising from their graves,
Breaking through the ground,
Raised by radiation waves,
They are coming to your town.

Board up all your doors,
Nail them good and tight,
Or there will be blood and gore,
By the end of the night.

They tear down your walls,
Break through your window pane,
No one can help you at all,
When they try to eat your brain.

Those dead eyes make you shiver,
You scream out with alarm,
Zombies try to eat your liver,
And, chew on your leg and arm.

There is no point to tell her,
That it is just too late,
Go hide down in your cellar,
You cannot escape your fate.

Zombies are the living dead,
They do not easily expire,
So, cause injury to their head,
Or, burn them with fire.

Hungry zombies do not give,
Oh, you better run,
Or you will not live,
To see the rising sun.

Written by: Kelly Deschler
October, 11th, 2013
For Leonora Galinta's contest -  
"Halloween-Only One Theme...Zombies!"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

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Those candies hiding in your valise
say your diet long since lost its lease.  
So, chew on those Reeses; 
chomp whatever pleases.  
You've got more that I can love obese.

Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2011

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Mr GOODBAR tasted the rainbow first
and made my juicy STARBURST
This chocolate has that whip appeal
puts you to sleep like youve eaten a full meal
my SUGARDADDY cant get enuff
of this sweet HERSHEY CHOCOLATE stuff
he said how many licks does it take 
to get to the center of your BLOWPOP
I said my love is so deep it may take a lot
So chew on this JUICY FRUIT like its gum
OOh rite there daddy Im bout to c#m
My chocolate is getting hot I need a fan
like M&Ms I melt in your mouth not in your hands
He sends me to MARS on the MILKY WAY
make me SNICKER as he tickle in it and play
he nibbles on my KIT KAT and makes me scream
Im like a HOSTESS CUPCAKE inside with exploding cream
he brings me MOUNDS of ALMOND JOY 
keeps me wanting more and more
WHATCHAMACALLIT leaves me speechless
dont know what to say
makes me happier than a broke chic on PAYDAY
I move up and down on him like hes a pole
I cringe as he makes my TOOTSIE ROLL
lips so sweet like REESES PIECES
my stuff is so good taste like WORLDS FINEST CHOCOLATE
his TWIZZLER is long and hard like BLACK LICORICE
creamy caramel like TWIX nuts like BABYRUTH
Im just what he needs for his sweet tooth

Copyright © LATARSHA GRANDBERRY | Year Posted 2015

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My New Parents Are Monsters

My New Parents Are Monsters!
By Johana Britt

My new parents are monsters! 
They're creepy and weird. 
I don't understand their monster ways, 
But they love me very dear.
I remember the day we met one another. 
It was funny, crazy, and deep,
Deep as the ocean and wide as the sea. 
You can't say we're wrong—we love each other.

We're free, 
That's what I say.

My monster parents, they love to play. 
They fly and they leap and they soar.
Boy do they soar through the sky!
Sometimes I can see their hearts beat faster
Whenever they fly by.

Good times and bad, 
That's what my parents have. 
But even those bad times 
Aren't really so bad. 

My parents are different,
And some folks can't see 
Why they let me live with these monsters. 
That's just so…scary!

But I don't mind, because they love me. 
They hold me tight and sing me to sleep. 

My monster parents are the very best parents— 
The best you'll ever meet. 
When they play hide and go seek,
It's hide, and hide and go seek.  

I'm the winner all the time,
And hey, you wanna know why? 
Because my parents are monsters, 
And monsters just can't hide!

But I can. I'm great at what I do. 
I can even hide in the cabinets 
And watch them walk past me,
Into the kitchen and through. 

Oh, but I never tell them 
Where my hiding spots are. 
And when they yell, "I give up!" 
I wait 'til they're quiet and far,

When they can't see
I creep out all smiles, 
Never stepping too loud,
'Cause my folks hear for miles.

I love them and they're sweet, 
Sweet like the candy 
That you chew on a Sunday, 
Or sometimes all week. 

My monster parents, 
Naw, they can't be beat. 
They're the champion parents. 
I love them—trick or treat. 

Monsters or no monsters, 
They're good for me!

We take trips, and we go out, 
And boy can my parents eat! 
Sometimes we go to their land overseas, 
Where they have lots of veggies and tons of meat. 

I tell my monster parents,
"I'm a cave girl, r-r-r-r-ah-r-r-r! 
I love meat!"
 And they just laugh with me
 And say, "Girl, you deep." 

The only thing I can't understand  
Is why everyone hates my folks. 
Is it because they're not 
A woman and a man? 

That's what my friends say— 
"They're monsters, you can't tell? 
It's supposed to be a man and a woman. 
That ain't right, can't you tell?" 

And I say, "No, I never knew it mattered." 
I thought parents were parents, who love you and care. 
And there's jillions of different people, 
Lots of 'em living out there. 

You have Asian, Italian,  
African and Dane...
They have different ways, 
But they all do the same.

They care for their kids and treat them like gumdrops, 
And sugars, and sweet candy things. 
My parents love me, I know that for sure.
And why should that ever change?

But you know what? I don't really care 
'Bout anything those people are saying out there.
 'Cause at the end of the day they don't see 
The love in my house 'tween my monsters and me.

They don't see all the things 
My sweet parents do, 
And they don't feel what I feel, 
When they say, "We Love You." 

So I'm proud of my parents. 

Don't care what they are, 
or what they might be, 
'Cause at the end of the day, 
Guess who loves ME? 

My monster parents!

Copyright © Johana Britt | Year Posted 2016

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The Power of Money

IMF's Dominique Strauss Kahn
Wanted a hotel suite bon-bon 
This forceful hard sell
In New York's Sofitel 
Is what all his borrowers chew on

Copyright © Duke Beaufort | Year Posted 2011

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I hate dogs

Too many big and small         
It doesn't matter, I hate them all.

I hate when they run, I hate when they leap.
I hate when they frolic in their sleep.

I hate how much they love to cuddle.
Their love is never very subtle.

I hate when they lick away your tears.
And comfort you as you face your fears.

I hate when they tilt their head and stare,
And snip and chew, on your long hair.

I hate when they hunt and kill a bug,
And track their filth across the rug.

I hate when they jump on your private places,
Or hit the window with their faces.

I hate every, dog, except a dog named Red,
I still love him, even though he’s dead.

Copyright © Skye Robertson | Year Posted 2017

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Skating on thin ice, a zamboni navigates murky waters, as
a buffet of hockey fans buy their luck from the walking dead.

Soaring ticket sales brought in the choicest meat.

Eyes glazed over with growing hunger pains, vendors
fatten up the expectant crowd. How zany! They never look
in the eyes of the wildmen, mistreating the miscreants. 

These zombies are dying, to yell out, 
“get your legs, get your arms ov’r heeer! “ 

The crowd explodes as the announcer yells, 
“the game is about to begin”

The zealots chew on these words screaming, then turn
their eyes to the big stadium screens, the zamboni’s
about to leave the ice, and vendors leave the stands,

appearing upon the illumined screen, a first attack.
The machine zigs and zags as monsters have a snack
and take a long drag. The crowd’s frenzy is revealed -
not for the sport they’ve come for, but the sport they’ve become.

A zombie shutout, where tomorrow's front page captions:

“Zany zamboni zigs and zags dragging zealot zombies “


Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2016

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I'm Not the One

I don't believe you
You total bastard
Because I didn't give you any
Because I didn't let you get down with me
You wanna walk around with a frown
Treating me so cold and rude
I ain't a piece of food
You chew on and spit out
I don't give a damn if you pout
You think the thing between your legs makes you a man
Check this out you can have fun with your hand
I'm not the one to be treated like dirt
Go ahead and throw your game to another skirt
So go find that store and pick out your whore
And remember I'm a lady with class
When you lay down with dogs and wake up with fleas
I hope you get a rash on your a!!
But I'm not the one!

Copyright © Jamila Strong | Year Posted 2010

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Sweet or Salty

Sometimes a need for added salt
Can be a good meal's only fault.

I am so glad that I am able
To have salt shaker on my table.

I'd rather chew on dry asphalt
Than finest meat devoid of salt.

And if that meal ends with a treat
It satisfies my yen for sweet.

I got my taste for salt from Papa
And one for sweets from my dear Mama.

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2013

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Two Cowboys In The Badlands

“Let ‘em loose,” came his bellowing yell,
“I got 3,000 head I gotta to sell,
Goin' 1,000 miles in weather that's hell,
You're all gonna sweat and all gonna smell”-

The boss’s eyes on ten cowboys did lay,
With disdain in his words he smirked to say,
“Keep ‘em cattle rollin', don’t let ‘em stray,
If one ends up missing, you’re all gonna pay,”

They worked hard, like good wranglers would,
Never slowing down, even when they could,
Their sleep was short and their food no good,
At the end the boss said, "they'd misunderstood"-

A man doesn’t work for two months on the trail,
Through dust storms, winds, the rains and the gales,
To be told by his boss “You utterly failed,
and if you complained, he’d put you in jail.”

Most walked away, with no money in hand,
The boss was a cheat, like no other man,
Two stayed behind and took a firm stand,
“Give us our pay!” that's our demand!"

They swallowed hard and filled their canteens,
These two rugged cowboys were tough and lean-
“South Dakota Badlands,” neither had seen,
One of them was thirty, the other nineteen-

“Partner,” the younger one said, 
“Don’t know if we should’ve fled-“
The other stared, then shook his head,
Saying, “It was either him or us dead!”

The older one, his chaps he unfurled,
His chew on the ground he spat and hurled-
“An old Indian belief,” he said with lips curled, 
“There ain't no death, only a change of worlds,”

No one knows if they made it across,
If they found refuge or if they got lost-
Or with their lives, paid the ultimate costs,
All because they had shot their range boss-

Cowboys at home spun their tale that night,
While eating ‘round the campfire light-
‘bout two heroes who weren’t afraid to fight,
And took out the man who’d done none of them right-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015