Best Dab Poems
Sofia the large sandy crab
Afraid of a life too drab
Took to the sea
With her cousin Kong Kee
And a six spotted floundering dab
Oh Kong Kee now this is the life
No worries no trouble no strife
Shoulda done this before
She got hit by an oar
And that was the end of her life
The dab and Kong Kee carried on
To finish their cousins swansong
The smell of fishrot
In a new fangled pot
Was the end for the cousin called Kong
Now the dab swims alone in the bay
While the sun shines he's still making hay
For he's back whence he went
Pocket money all spent
And so happily, blissfully gay
Dab met a small fish on the way
Who aspired to become a great ray
He ate as he must
Til his belly did bust
And he ends up as soup o' the day
There's a moral in each little story
So never go hunting for glory
You'll end up on a plate
Tryin' to mimic a skate
When you're really a small johnny dory
A shade of yellow, paint with blue
Blemishes the canvass, all in crude
Creativity in the lazy sky
Dulled in myriad etches drawn
Enthusiasm overwhelming
Fields of hope now ascending
God given blessings bestowed
Heaven's a bliss to behold
In the artist's loving hand
Jaded with clues after clues
Keen on its every detail
Life time's own redemption
Memoirs upon the final touch
Nature's guise to reach heights
Oils and pastels combined
Portrait hung with grace
Quite breezing one's mind
Racing deep to the bosom
Sunflowers waving its mother sun
Thistles whispering sweet goodbyes
Utopia on the majestic moon
Vivaciously unified
Wonders of an impressive grade, like
Xylophones synced in harmony
Yesterday's today an understatement
Zephyr stirred within every stroke.
2/25/2015
Ya know baby you're usually right
Center cut, intherace, that's your place
On target, red carpet, gotomarket
Hittin' the bull's eye, 'n baby, I'm your guy
Smack-Dab babe
Like the Nile, you flow the right way
Like Carlyle, know what ta say
With you, I'm okay
If ever I'm off and stray
Grab meaway, gimme a jab
Baby, that's Smack-Dab
You're like Ophelia, Antonin Scailia, multimedia, memorabilia
Honey, you're KarmannGhia! Oh, callmea cab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're Lash La Rue, Peggy Sue, Scooby Doo, Mister Magoo
Honey, You're Super Glue! Wow! Back to the lab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're so sure
We're at that stage, we needa sage
Honey, you're the rage!
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're like Al Gore, Dorothy Lamour, Dinah Shore, Za Za Gabor
Honey, you're no bore! Ain't never drab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're so fab
Fit as a fiddle, Nelson Riddle, heat upthe griddle
Honey, you're in the middle!
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're Buster Crabbe, Colin McNab, take a stab, my bar tab
Honey, you're my rehab! Ah, the gift a gab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
While it's true only you I adore
I really oughtta tell you more
Baby, Imma big time loser, a simple fleck
Honey, you're a sure winner, a stacked deck
You're my Madonna, only one I wanna
Someday you'll get rings 'n things
For now your praises, it's me who sings
I'd rope a Picasso with my trusty lasso
Ya know I'd buyeth, if I saw a good Wyeth
Honey, you're the latest 'n the greatest
Baby, that's Smack-Dab
Recently I got tired of being a puppet on a string.
I’m not sure why,
but I woke up,
and then it all made sense.
Until that point, I’d spent my life deep in mind’s pretense.
I found my heart,
I dove straight in,
and much to my surprise,
I landed smack dab in the center of spirit’s loving eyes.
dab dab wab?
Under the simplified shade of a sparrows wing one does not strut. It is merely there to shield and shields are shapes and shapes are not shifting. Steel blows to a mud are unwelcome and untimely. Plus they are not akin to an orchestra playing in a beautiful sunlit chapel. Chat then to a small breeze whilst sitting on a rock. A beaver might join in and so might an antelope. But fifty six bison, a wheeled cow, a twisting carbonated cream jug, and an artists palate will never ever speak to such a mild force preferring instead to shout out to storm winds and hurricanes. At this time the prevalence of three minstrels is a lovely sight to behold. And the nine millimetre pool cue will talk when touched. Touching taking talking trampling tearing tyrannical tragedies. And the marking of a six pointed cross. With a circle. And Teflon reflected surfaces are akin to a doormat spinning under feet. A wide mongoose at a visitor centre visualising via video. It takes a little lemur to find a pennywhistle and play productive plateau tunes. But the belch from an uneven toad could disrupt even the finest air from a guitar string strummed by a seven metre galloping pie. Frame that then. Opinions offer octagons order officially. So get on a horse and clap several times. Then go to the mountain rope bridge and go over it at great speed. Upon return lie down in a stable on a table of golden hay. Then neigh yourself to sleep. Neighing ninety neighs. Nuances. Great. Roadworks of cars are annoying but road blocks of ant people are incessantly irritating. Mad circumference of a stomping stomach in a suit. Parading. Like a pin. Ok then. Right what is said is said and what is done is done. And that is it. And further to my duties in this house I will have further such meetings later today with 90 golf balls, a lime and lemon cordial, a fruit bowl, and a misty mash. Hahaha the legs on a keyboard are dancing. Hahaha string strap speaking xxxxxx nominative Z Z Z and deliberations deemed dramatic Z
a runaway cloud
streaks through an open sky
spoiling the otherwise perfect blue
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
“A Little Dab Will Do You”
By: Miracle Man
January 5, 2024
Morning placed another snow day,
under my belt.
I’m searching for excitement while,
watching it melt.
It didn’t snow much just enough,
to make a mess.
But it painted a beautiful picture,
I readily confess.
As flakes were falling they moved,
across the ground.
Also, the north west wind’s whistle,
was the only sound.