Best Cool Poems
I don’t know tic tac toe
so I rhyme this with flow,
showing Nick Nac knows
how to serve the perfect dose.
Measuring the rhymes
like I’m pleasuring the lines,
leisure for the minds
like I’m lemon and I’m lime,
1st and 2nd personalities
pushed to share realities,
combining combat and comebacks
as I incompetently rap,
you’re ripping me now
it’s a banter attack,
shyt but gripping somehow
as I pant and sound crap.
It’s another chicken dinner
from Mr Trim Trimmer,
not a rapper or a singer
but, a mother loving winner.
POTD 02/02/2019
'O dreamy night
with wandering eyes
you could not lie to me;
deceive the drifts of snow
with crystal glitter...
Like tender downs in a midnite hour
Not a stirring soul but I in thy amphitheatre
this white night
where backyard chairs nestle snow-cakes
and the maple arbors
soft with wind shadows...
make my eyes wide with sleep
The sheep are calling in the stardust...
and from moonbeams
this muse must fade...
***I wrote this poem a few winters ago, but
I find it soothing to post this hot summer***
Winter is very cold
the wind is bold
snowman made the centerfold
brown snow is old.
Spring is in the air
flowers now blooming everywhere
watch out for a bear
ducks swimming have flair.
Sumner can be hot
sailing on a yacht
fresh strawberries I brought
mosquitoes we will swat.
Autumn also called fall
sweater for my doll
I need a shawl
off to the mall.
~Chasing Bigfoot~
Across the Bayou Waters
Into vast trails of wilderness
I follow a sound, a sullen scent
---footprints
He was out there,
hairy large and in charge
Drugs under the beastly moonlight
Heavy torrents swept me in
Deep, down and dark
Under a hidden den
Between the moon and stars
I gaze into a world unknown
A comparison of salt water and bonnets
Lord of the forest deep
Entrapped in a romantic secret sonnet
Over the corner in every shadow
Red Auburn hair, above a 12 foot pair
Daring to face the lone gallows
In one peek
I observe it was not made by men
The fear became excitement
It offered a moment to think
I don't know if it wants to injure me
It sniffs me repeatedly,
Smearing my skin with his nose
This type of behavior, this smell
Began to arouse my rose
Rough nails grip around my neck
Forest flavored lips
Unravelling a taste unhuman
The touch erupts and fills me with fear
Still, I long to linger near
Sunrise starts with a grin
Revolving around the mood
Upon his long coat of shrooms
Without fear I stroke his thick fur
Rough and sweet I repeat
Living or dying, I stay
To love the fear-driven inside
Day after day
Deep and gray, life fades
Then becomes elusive
11 years the sun hides
Dark eyes, hold me all night
This wild man, by the bedside
Cries from the woods before sunset
I follow----
Somewhere behind hidden walls
The woods stand tall
Flowers welt from this burning love
My heart owned by the sasquatch
Though rapid dreams and streams,
I scream
Of Big Foot and I
By: PD
-Poetry Soup Kitchen-
Grab your aprons and spoon
Today we will not think of the stars and the moon,
Open your eyes, be grateful for all we have
Together we can paint the world
In any which way we desire
Let's give, live and celebrate the New Year
Poetry Soup Style
Happy New Year
2015
By:PD
Don't rush to wash off the sea salt
drying on your skin;
the hopes it carries from other oceans,
those remain yet to be seen.
They enter the strip
joint like the last
flurrie of flakes.
She hears the music,
hears the voice of the
D.J. Wind, enters on cue.
Her cold poles await her
as she moves to the beat.
One south, one north.
She works them both.
They call her Storm
she is the feature act.
Drawing her minions
in for months now.
Quickly the starkness of ivory
starts to melt off her body.
The long blanched gloves
covered those particular
patches are the first to go
revealing the fresh lustre of
bare skin once again exposed.
Sexy,
she's a professional!
She stares out
noticing the skeletal
frames once only
shadows,
now with a glimmer
of light.
She knows her time
is short now
feels a hint
of life in her
domain of
dead stares.
Hears sounds
that are telling.
Was that really a chirp
or just a whistle?
The pulse of warmth starts
to pump through her veins.
Now her shiny robe
falls to the ground and
you can sense the smell
of want in the air.
The flow of liquids
previously frozen stiff.
Storm the stripper
slowly teases the crowd.
Down to her Victoria Secret
garb she tugs at our groins
knowing her audience craves
more.
In this case that also
means less.
I personally will miss her
in this present form.
Her tidy white lingerie
against her tanned skin.
Covered peaks,
rounded mounds.
You just want to
ride up, and maneuver
your way down.
The timing is wrong.
I know she will strip bare
as first the top goes then
down to a G-String of snow.
Naked,
winter stands
in front of me.
She will meander a bit
shake with a breeze
of perfumed cold.
Slide onto the floor as she undulates
with her come ons that near a finality.
She saunters off the stage
and me I watch winter's end.
Spring, on winter's barren
ground starts to peek from
around the curtain,
with her touch of green.
Warm breezes.
Her array of pastel colors.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Winter has left the building,
Spring is here!
01~19~2015
Sponsor: SKAT A
Contest: Winters End
"I love my teacher."
"I have a great teacher."
"My teacher is super."
"My teacher's so cool."
These words are music to a teacher's ears,
Exactly what parents and administrators want to hear.
Yet what do they mean? How are they earned?
Are they related to learning? Or are we unconcerned?
"My teacher gives us tons of extra recess every day."
"Mine lets us cheat on quizzes and not make us pay."
"My teacher accepts papers copied from the Internet."
"Mine goes to casinos at nights and places big-money bets!"
Back in the day, teachers were strict.
We got away with nothing; they knew all our tricks.
And the classroom was quieter than a night in Grant's tomb;
They really knew how to keep order in a room.
The homework was ample, not one or two samples,
And the next day we had to solve all her examples.
Her quizzes and tests required voluminous reading,
And woe to the poor student whom she caught cheating!
We truly hated our teachers; we hated their guts.
We threw darts at their pictures and that kind of stuff.
Yet later in life we could hold an intelligent conversation.
And write a clear report, full of fact-based innovation.
We could dissect a frog; comprehend the periodic table;
Parse a sentence, and make a speech about Hamlet or Cain and Abel.
So next time your kid tells you, "My teacher's so cool."
Ask next what he or she's learning in school!
There are very few things more refreshing
than a cool breeze on a hot summer day
Couple that with a glass of iced tea in the evening,
or maybe some chilled lemonade in some afternoon shade
When that tropical breeze blows
on your hot, perspiring skin
It is so rejuvenating, it is soul refreshing
Oh it feels like how you feel
after you finish making love,
and it feels like how you feel
when you start making love again
It's a top-of-the-morning type of feelin',
it's a late night, down low kind of chillin'
Riding on that summer breeze
makes you ready and always willing
to take a journey to love that is so, so fulfilling
There's not a lot of things in life
more pleasant than this
Catching a cool summer breeze
is something I never ever want to miss
Now I ask you this
A more common name you will not find
Cities have thousands of them
Small towns have at least one
Why pretty much everywhere you go
You will find a Mr. Smith
Why once in china
In the middle of nowhere
This old Chinese man came out of his hut
Shook my hand
Said , Ni Hoa me Mr. Smith
I was truly and duly shocked
Being a Smith, he made me tea and served me lunch
Go to any hockey game and I will tell you this
In the stands
There will be 1000's and more
of Smiths, Mr. and Misses and all manner of Smiths
Why even the Montreal Canadians have one!!!
Now if you turn around, there will be a smith behind
The odds say this is true, and thankfully for all,
To hold a door open
To help an old lady across the street
The Smiths are gods angels
Lending a helping hand
Love and good cheer, you know a smith is near
Now you may ask me how I know all this to be true
The answer is quite simple you see
I know a Tim Smith
A kinder man you will not find
A family that loves him
Friends that appreciate him
A tavern that knows him by first name
Someone who always buys me a DRINK!!!!
A man of loyalty this is for sure
What else explains a Blackhawks fan?
So I tip my hat to my friend Tim
I raise a glass of good cheer and salute
To a family man of honor
With a heart of gold for those lucky enough
To know Him
Cheers
All the slightest detais that make us so far apart, but so alike
21.05-2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The evening sun reclines, dips
her trailing skirts into the fire;
she lounges on the edge of dusk,
her sultry lips, crimson desire.
With violet tints, her painted eyes,
brazen behind a blushing cloud,
stare at every lake and pond
to view the beauty she's endowed.
We sigh to see her slip beyond
the rim of sight; her lovely face
may never be just quite the same
as now, framed by the black tree lace.
Faye Lanham Gibson
. Nomadic whispers
North winds speak to the great plains
Warnings of winter
Foxy ponytail got a sharp tongue,
her pretty jade eyes blink-blink lashes
really cut to the chase
Keep the skirt hounds on the run,
obsession scent spur their mad dashes
Her pause give ‘em all a digital trail erase
She cracks the estrogen whip ...
let cheeky fools taste the pointed quip,
if they don’t mane macho lying back down
Amelia Earhart flygirl cool attitude,
soaring pioneer spirit air-to-ground
Indie Anna Jones' outback boots
love kicking the salty sea dogs around
Never yet met a man to meet her match;
to strike her fire
with a sincere, fingertip touch
Self-reliant souls are the hardest catch,
free space desire
oxygenate a bonding kiss rush
Indie Anna Jones
is looking for the next archeology dig site
to soul carbon date
So dust off the adventurous bones,
have a hopeful heart that’s gonna do right
And you just Dr. Feelgood might
be her perfect mate
He walks into the bar
Like a movie star
With swagger
Out pouring the lager
Topped by a mop
Of such mythical proportion
It hushes the crowd
With its absorption
More adorn
Than a unicorn
Waving a pompadour
As big as a brontosaur
9/3/2019
Swagger Poetry Contest
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