Best Dandies Poems
Morning time...waking with sweets in my mouth
cinnamon carameltmarshmellowed out
breakfast cereal Sugar Dynamite
secret prize inside,bestows x-ray sight
Sugar shock,tooth rot,'60s psycotropic lollipops
an infinite selection @ Treat's Sweetshop
its addictive candy flavors
improves moods and bad behavior
beware of its dangers
sugar rush overdose and hypereality at most
Peanutbrittle,jawbreakers,misfortune cookie riddles
limesours with saccarine middles
crispycreams filled my mouth
multi-colored jelly beans,sweet and sour insideout
Chocolate candy bars filled the candy jars
cinnamon coal pepper scorchers
mouth and stomach torture
jellied fruit medley,candied vomit,flavor bliss
oatmeal crisps and spicey comets
cool peppermints sooth
my tongue stuck to sticky tarts stronger than glue
Sugared hyper,spoiled rotten
the last flavor blast,gone not forgotten
Narcotic treats penny gag sweets
firecracker gum
blistering flaming lip smackers
and moldy sugarplums
Blue cotton candy,caramel dandies,gingersnaps
assorted sugared snacks,
bubblegum taffy stale rotten candy
are tough chewing tasks
the good stuff in my secret stash:
vanilla cream mashed between two oatmeal cookies
even tried vegan fruikies
my heart's desire...
spent several days sugar wired...still ain't tired
When tastebuds crave an everlasting taste
even toothpaste's nothing to waste
suck,never chew hot swallows in haste
found tastebud relief
gulped this 32oz. blizzard
topped with chopped strawberry twizzlers
Nighttimes mean euphoric wake dreams
cool whipped creamed baked desserts
milkshakes quenched my sugar thirst
Next an ice cream brainfreeze sprinkled with the works,
Ate three slices of icecream cake unthawed,
and an entire carton of chocolate marshmellow smorgasborgs
smothered in toffee fudge crunch and caramel popcorn munch
Baked treats make each morning time sublime
Sugared creamed pastries cake sweet
Saccarine cereal tastes surreal
Chocolate sprinkled ,vanilla milkshakes
completes morning meal
Then the entire day of sugar shock toothrot
indulgence at Treat 's Sweet Shop
I stood and stared at vivid things
Yellows, white, and neon blues,
From tiny ones, with tiny wings
To graceful giants, in lustrous hues.
There were dandies garbed in polka dots
Others bore alluring eyes,
Some wore shimmering silver spots
As mother nature donned disguise.
Yet for those butterflies I wept,
Their wondrous ruses to no avail,
For in glass cases they are kept,
Collected, killed, and then impaled.
Entry for 'Impaled' poetry contest
Sponsored by Anthony Slausin.
22/7/2019. Placed 1st.
Home.
The deepest crevices of your arms felt like home.
It was a place of warmth and comfort
A place where I can nudge my nose into when it is cold from all the outdoors.
It reminded me of a sunset that I can feel close to me
I melted whenever I would push my nose up against your armpits.
I wondered of all the adventurous stories you've gone through
Those armpits of yours.
It was a story of a sunset when I felt it on my nose.
My nose was my eyes whenever I felt the tip of the
words brush on me.
It was moist from all your trekking and warmth from all the talking
You’ve been through the day.
It smelled nice too, like a field of ivies and dandies
Home.
What a place to be when I’ve trudged up all the mountains of life.
Home.
A place where I can be, putting my legs up on the sofa and slouched
You remind me of a place I want to walk through, but it is there.
There for me here in this place I call home too.
I will be forever loyal to you my dear friend.
I like making memories with you and I have plenty to share.
Our little circle keeps on growing - it has no end!
I’m the best thing that ever happened; you could not compare.
I have nothing in my pocket but these old pennies and stuff.
Yet I can tell you my stories that will make you hodgepodge.
I will fight against your foes even if that depicts me being tough.
You are worthy to be called my friend; Thanks for the yummy stodge!
Even if our dandies are differently designed,
I shake things up between us and put magic – Alakazam!
And so people called me “One of a kind”…
I am the best friend you have ever known; sings the best jam.
I will give you the best friendship that no one could offer.
But do not underestimate my sincerity like no other.
Row upon row of long stemmed dandies,
Yellow trumpets set to blare,
'Neath them growing, little snowdrops,
Announcing spring is in the air.
Songbirds sing sweet melodies,
As on branches blossom grows,
Life anew, is now stirring
Spring arrives to steal the show.
Purple crocus greet the Sun,
With primrose and the hellebore,
As pretty white anemones
Decorate the woodland floor.
Bleary eyed, creatures stir
Days of slumber passing now,
Time for all to awaken
As winter, takes her final bow.
Entry for
CONTEST 565 ,ANY FORM OR NONE,
ANY THEME, UP TO A MAX OF 20 LINES Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
25/2/19. Placed=1st.
Who are these lug nuts?
Who are these featherweights?
Who are these slum bums?
Who are these cretins?
Who are these dimwits?
Who are these bird brains?
Who are these crumb critters?
Who are these sad sacks?
Who are these dullards?
Who are these rum raisins?
Who are these nincompoops?
Who are these louts?
Who are these Jim Dandies?
Who are these meat heads?
Who are these brow beaters?
Who are these fuddy duddies?
They all live in my bones
And sing like Tom Jones.
We are the chosen.
Later, Hosen.
Whoa back Lucy, hang on to your panties
Ya gots to take care, you're one of the dandies
You're famous, my dear
Had quite a career
But ya better slow down, don't overwork your fanny
YELLOW DRESSES
Joy springs sudden and silent
From the simplest of childish roots.
Homebound from work to metro along a city way
I saw today on one of my regular stops
The overgrowth of dandelions from the sun,
Very tall and reaching through the iron railing,
Wind catching them waving happily,
Like angelic little girls all standing tall on tip-toe,
Trying to attract my attention and saying “Look at me,
Isn’t my bright yellow dress the prettiest?”
And indeed each one was beautiful -
It was too hard to choose.
I felt like a god with these tiny saffron Seraphim
Looking for my admiration and recognition:
For their tireless, glowing energy,
Joyfully jostling and basking in my approval.
Sometimes a child simply calls dandelions dandies:
And today I suddenly felt the meaning deepen.
They were in truth all dandies, and I smiled -
I smiled silently all the way home.
My petite blushing rose
come turn your face towards me.
Ignore yon flitting and buzzing pests
silly dandies in black and yellow vests.
I long to spring upon your long green stem
dance amongst your soft and silky leaves
I'd spin a sparkling web so sweet and fine
then weave two cups of dew from which we'd dine.
They will simply tease and rob you of your gold
and adorn themselves of your fine riches.
Then without so much as a thanks or care
they'd desert you for other treasure scenting the air.
They cannot need you or love you as my heart does
for they already have another queen to return to.
They are brazen, drunken fools that can't hold your wine
or understand this ache so pure as ever will be mine.
So cast but one glance toward this winsome beau
and I can draw my last breath with joy.
I'll spin us a heart of gossomer thread and dew
for Monsieur Arac. H. Nid and his lady rose too!
©Jane Richer
16/03/2012
Tee-hee, I'm here again, jus' meef
Wit' dimples shining, chub-chub cheeks
Yous gotsta see my two new teef
(Dough dey be dwibblin' lotsa leaks)
Me hasn't got no udders yet
But dese is purrfect side-by-side
Dey always shiny, white and wet
(And sometimes get my tungy tied)
My bib is stain, dey make me dwizzle
Fwum learnin' how to use 'em wight
And when I talk my essez wizzle
(Toof Fairy brung 'em late one night)
Fer sher can't wait to really use 'em
Cuz mama says dey shine my chin
How I gotsta bite and chew some
Grow more dandies for my gwin
Oh how I wuv dese bwight new tings
And mama wuvs 'em, I can tell
She always waffs and always sings
When I bite daddy ... make him yell!
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Baby Face What's You Thinkin' 2" Poetry Contest, James Edward Lee, Sr, Judge & Sponsor.
(I used photograph number three)
WONDERS OF IX A (2019)
Millennium is a box of wonders which crave
To get knowledge, values, principle and love.
In my satchel I have eight wonders that drive
Me crazy, frenzied, rabid. But lo how I love
All of them. Composed, wise sane and active
Never fought like cat and dog, or out move.
The first gems Radhika and Ansh, my nerve
One very intelligent, diligent, other silent groove,
Charming, diligent, a helping hand, a sweet dove.
Second are Vidhi and Dhruv, who do their give
Best, oppose, are animadvert, but most all of
Love teachers. Third Pranjal and Mustafa brave
Charming, exasperating, lovely, do behave
Cooly, assist me in executing discipline, gave
Best of them, never rude or arrogant do they prove.
Fourth are Chahat and Vishnu, tacit, cute curve,
Taciturn, intermittently garrulous but catch nerve,
One a couch potato, other eats humble pie is brave.
Fifth wonders are Shikha and Shashank, positive
In my class, effusive, gabby, loquacious, talkative
But sweet natured children, take care of AC groove.
The next wonders are Milsi and Kanan, Gujju native,
Another prolix, chatty and gabby ones who grieve
With Dwij for class indiscipline; all sweethearts of
Sanket, caring, dormant, at times quarrelsome, at eve
Spend time contemplating on their studies. Above
All is Dweesha and Dwip, short tempered, proactive,
Loquacious, friend in enemy, reserved is ready give
Their 100 percent against me with conjurer's glove,
But close to my heart. The last but not least brave
Girl is Vidhi, a Jain, reputed, calm, cute, does have
Empathy for me and Krunal. A sweet girl, will leave
Never just, devoted, staunch behaviour, an octave
Of skills, trustworthy, allegiant, harmonious dove.
In a nutshell, all sixteen are big bucks, a brown clove.
All these eight wonders with Dev, Helik, Vasu move
Crumblesome elements out of my class - proactive.
Mithil, Harsh, Sarthak are above the salt persons. Five
More are wonders driving away my talent out of cave.
I thank again most reverent Kekul madam to pave
A voluble path of IX A with such obedient constructive
Students. Guidance of Sandeep and Sushil inductive;
I counted noses, am success with method inductive.
All dandies, make me a proud, ostentatious teacher alive.
(This is the image of a semi urban city of India)
The glow of a late Autumn Sunset,
Gleams over the dense city streets.
Rushing wheels and honking horns,
Halt awhile for the traffic signs.
Through the rows of rushing motors,
Men on bikes plough their way.
They squish and squeeze through every gap,
Caring a naught for the traffic rules.
With jarring siren, the Ambulance van,
Speeds past for emergency aid.
The patient inside, in writhing pain,
Lies stressed on every hurdle raced.
Ladies holding children in hands,
And people bent with growing age,
Remain planted at the zebra cross,
Waiting to move to the opposite side.
As the tired people back from work,
Hurry away to reach their homes,
The jovial band in easeful mood,
Treads towards the city parks.
Fortune tellers with their Tarot cards,
Hold their clients in great suspense,
The street hawkers on tiled pavements,
Squat beside their cheap merchandise.
Scores of men who tread on foot,
Grow to Hundreds in a short awhile,
These are folks right from the show,
The Block buster has drawn hoards of men.
When young Dandies in tawdry dress,
Dally round with their ladies love,
Street urchins in tattered clothes,
Go searching in the garbage pile.
While decrepit old beggars lie drowsy,
On the cement benches in wayside shelters,
The affluent Sahibs in plush restaurants,
Feast on their cocktail dinners.
The city thus with its motley crowd,
Paints life in contrast shades,
For Fortune, with her alluring charms,
Favours a few and leaves the rest.
For he who has not folded in his arms
A skeleton, nor fed on graveyard charms,
Recks not of furbelow, or paint, or scent,
When Horror comes the way that Beauty went.
O irresistible, with flesh less face,
Say to these dancers in their dazzled race:
“Proud lovers with the paint above your bones,
Ye shall taste death, musk scented skeletons!
Withered dandies with plump faces,
Ye varnished cadavers, and grey Lovelaces,
Ye go to lands unknown and void of breath,
Drawn by the rumour of the Dance of Death.
all we know are the shards of time
slipping from our minds
standing on the edge,it fades like sand between withered hands
we bleed our youth
we will hear,when their hearts stop beating
she flutters like a brazen butterfly,the ink of our veins seep
flowing like the ocean,within her lies
my dear, to the moon and nether ties
the suicide red skyline
resides in her black eyes
DANDY DANDELIONS
Joy springs sudden and without talk
From the simplest of childish roots.
Homebound from work to metro along city walk
I saw today on one of my regular routes,
The overgrowth of dandelions from the sun,
Very tall and reaching through the iron fence, black and low
Wind catching them waving happily in fun,
Like little girls all standing tall on tip-toe
Trying to catch my attention and saying “Look at me,
Isn’t my bright yellow dress the prettiest?”
And indeed each one was beautiful to see -
It was too hard to choose the loveliest .
I felt like god with these tiny saffron Seraphim
Looking for my admiration and recognition:
For tireless, glowing, heated energetic vim,
Jostling and basking in my approval of their motion.
Sometimes a dandelion is simply a dandy to a child:
And today I suddenly felt the meaning of this grow.
They were in truth all dandies, and I smiled -
I smiled silently all the way home in the metro.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
NOTE
This is not intended as a parody of his poem, but many times I’ve read of Wordsworth’s elation and his feelings about his daffodils. Today I discovered for myself what he felt, and it was thought-provoking.
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Written 6 April 2012 and entered in
Lisa Hiatt ~Dark Poetess's Contest Where have all the flowers gone
GOD IS GOOD--
Golden ringlets of glory
Other lieges dealing stories
Dark ringlets of gallant
Intuitions sets at ease
Such intuitions speculate God is good He’s great
Gently swells inflate mercy’s grace
Old dandies walk and run about
Other kinds run on and on
Darling little one praise on Praise the Lord our God
3/19/19
written by James Edward Lee Sr.