Best Dibs Poems
Demon in disguise with captivating dark-brown eyes,
He is gentle and focused, for you are his prize.
Hypnotic smile across his lips, with thrust of hips and eloquence,
He has broken your defence with confidence.
His trophy, your heart, he has won!
Candlelit dinners, flowers, romance
Passionate sex, holidays in the sun
Rings on the fingers you are now one.
Traditional promise and a couple of kids
It's all that matters, they have first dibs
A home, a car, and a dog,
Your life has begun as one hard slog.
Welcome to your life's routine
You are no longer sixteen
Are you still his queen?
What evil will his time bring?
Compliments ushered out the door
What are you thinking mopping the floor
Wiping up vomit, stumbling over toys
Is this what life is with all its joys?
What evil promise did his time bring?
Sex is a job, no longer a pleasure,
Your kids are precious your life's treasure,
He is always late, arrogant and rude,
You thought it was your fault for being such a prude.
So you take a few drinks to feel better,
While is off on business like a trend setter.
He is always failing at what he does,
You have lost it, the incredible buzz.
Venomous insults, frequent and rapid they leak
Like a demon possessed allow him to speak
Scarlet embarrassment paints your cheeks,
He has become an uncontrollable freak.
When the kids get older you promise to leave,
In order to feel better, your lie you believe,
you think he will change? are you so naive?
It is only yourself you begin to deceive.
A few nightly slaps, and a couple of bruises,
When for no reason his temper he loses.
The demon in disguise has brought about a promise of hell.
Nowhere to run to, no one to tell.
Categories:
dibs, abuse, betrayal, bullying, family,
Form:
Rhyme
Silly Sally sells books, this week there's a sale -
New titles each Friday; I go without fail.
This book took the do-it-yourselfers by storm:
"How To File Your Own Taxes" by May Linda Form.
If this one's available, I'm calling dibs:
"Let's Cook in the Backyard " by Barbie Q. Dribs.
If that one is sold out, this might fit the bill:
"The Perfect Hamburger" by Patty O'Grill.
If you don't have time for the whole book, just scan it:
"Naming Your Newspaper" by Dale E. Planet.
This one's selling out, be the first on your block:
"You Must Bring My Daughter Home" by Ada Clock.
One book I've been wanting I think really rocks:
It's called "Spooner's Footwear". It's by Susan Shocks.
You students may need this one for your next quiz:
"It's All About Nature" by Ollie G. Whiz.
And speaking of science, this one is debateable:
"Decomposing Organisms" by O. deGradable.
If you know a student, I'm sure they will love:
"Better Test Taking" by Olive D. Above.
At 70 cents, this old book is a cheapie:
"Hypnosis Tricks" by U. R. Barry Sleepy.
For those with a more Catholic upbringing:
"Be On Time For Church" by Isabel Ringing.
Need help thinking quicker? This one's on the button:
"Reacting in Crises" by Olive O'Sudden.
You could take this one on your longer vacations:
"Destroyer Warfare" by Mandy Battlestations.
To order this title, you may have to beg:
"My Very Small Breakfast" by I. Ada Negg.
I know of a fitness book you ought to buy:
"I'm Living Forever" by Dawn Wanda Dye.
This could be a best-seller, I have no doubt:
"It's None of Your Business, You Twit!" by Bud Out.
You may think these books are for real. If you do,
there's a nice bridge in Brooklyn I'd like to sell you!
Categories:
dibs, books, humorous,
Form:
Light Verse
When we were young we went to the fair
With our brothers and our sisters
We tilted on the Tilt-a-Whirl
And we twisted on the Twisters
We bulleted on the Bullet
And quite dizzy we would feel
But my stomach always turned and turned
When I rode that Ferris Wheel
We'd go to get some eats
Some pizza or spare ribs
They were always so darn good
We'd go back for second dibs
Candy apples with coconut
Were always fun to eat
And so was cotton candy
But they both were very sweet
We played the fifty-fifty
And we raffled for the car
We drank beer under the tents
And we ate clams at the bar
The spinning wheels were fun to play
But they were hard to win
Victor the bear was tough to wrestle
But someone beat him with a pin
Monsignor Wilus ran the show
And he was usually there
So thanks to him He brought us all
The good ole Iselin fair
Categories:
dibs, dedication,
Form:
Rhyme
I saw you from across the bar,
Your eye shadow immaculate,
Your skin a pleasing, pale hue,
Your brown hair laced around a band of plastic flowers,
Your supple red lips engaged in fluid conversation.
I saw you, decided I loved you,
My bawdy, lusty companions thought so as well,
We cast dibs and lots for you and dared each other to speak to you,
And acquire your phone number,
As if you could be owned by possession of such things.
I turned away from our idle chatter and barter,
And glanced to where you spoke with the girl presumed to be your sister.
I may not love you tomorrow,
The feeling may have faded by then,
But I relish the aesthetic of the moment,
Lovely Flower-Girl.
Categories:
dibs, funny, parody, people, may,
Form:
Free verse
I piled my plate with ribs,
Potato salad and pulled pork,
Then grabbed a beer, a napkin
And my plastic knife and fork.
The picnic table beckoned
So we sat to have our meal,
Not knowing that our dinner
Would turn into an ordeal.
For out of nowhere there appeared
A yellowjacket pair,
Alighting on my plate, my food,
My beer, my hand, my hair.
Perhaps it was the honey
In the saucy-coated ribs
That attracted these invaders
Out to claim their rightful dibs.
I swatted and deflected them
But I could clearly see
That a peaceful, laid-back barbecue
This wasn't meant to bee!
Categories:
dibs, food, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
I solemnly received my first toilet auger
As if it were a knight’s well-tempered sword.
It meant I’d passed my ninety-day audition,
And seemed to me a suitable reward.
And so began my tenure working maintenance
In the nasty nitty gritty of a toxic circumstance.
But I’d scored a small apartment, living duty-free,
So, it was time for starting over’s second chance.
A thousand plus apartments needed tending.
When a work ticket printed, I called dibs.
Seventy buildings built of brick and dreams.
I was privy to the skivvy in all those skeevy cribs.
I’ve encountered many silent tribal totems:
Hindu murti, Christian chi rho, Muslim script.
But no matter the religion of the trouble call,
For every useful purpose, I came suitably equipped.
There were feral cats, roaches, and bedbugs
Infesting hoarders’ floorspace wall-to-wall.
I dealt as best I could with the detritus,
But my biggest stress was over-night on-call.
While paying the price of complete independence
I may sometimes have hammered my thumb.
Though I may be a hack in the handyman trade,
I conducted my final campaign as my army of one.
And I came off a winner.
Categories:
dibs, allegory, work,
Form:
Burlesque
It is Winter Carnival time, everyone in a double
bustle. Christmas Night, as emotions bubble;
kids full of mischief getting into trouble.
The whole carnival is decked out with Christmas décor!
Swelled faces with joyful spells, sounds of bells, and so much more.
A whole new winter world waiting to explore.
The clown's face painted in white paint,
fiery orange hair, a big mouth in red taint.
It snarls a show of teeth
all covered in candy Heath.
Each evil eye of three glaring while I'm underneath.
A red ball full of tea rose, for a nose that disposes out like a hose;
you won't want it to be near your toes.
It wears a ruffled collar satin clown suit and walks with a toot,
half red the other half white and big black combat boots; he's so cute.
Kids run around the clown hand in hand like a chain
trying to get first dibs on a red candy cane.
It is Winter Carnival everyone in a double
bustle. Christmas Night, as emotions bubble;
kids full of mischief getting into trouble.
The poor cranky clown wearing a frown
ready to put himself down
where he dwells in his night gown
when the sun goes down.
12/19/2018
Poetry Contest: Bunny Jump Honey Lump Funny Chump
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
dibs, children, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
to the seminal instance
whence spermatozoa
(from profuse ejaculation) beget
the miraculous propensity
to procreate despite the steep odds
female fertility fosters potential impregnation
fusing the hereditary debt
of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
fueling fancy free footloose fornication
prior to seminal fertilization union
sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with
diametrically opposed exultant sensations
(biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
et cetera) seismic shocks inject
when deliberate intent arises to disregard
applying prophylactics choice
plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
bastes the "cooking" egg omelette
which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
of webbed world de jure upon
consummating that most miraculous deed
necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
from messy menstrual cycle
she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
in the euphoric family, she instinctually
abides prenatal signals that heed
without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
ineluctably, kinesthetically
lectured by elder, especially cast
in thee reel life drama, that nine months
til offspring utters initial whimper
elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing
to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably
(perhaps colicky infant)
gets first dibs to suckle,
which round the clock nursing
consumes moments many vast.
Categories:
dibs, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Elegy
As we look up at the sky and watch the amazing light show.
It has me wondering why I really actually wanna know.
How to love me for being me and how to let my walls down.
And just relax, sit still, and listen for the sound.
I hope one day he will see I'm a queen I deserve a crown.
That I wanna live in God's will cause he's always around.
I wonder if I'll ever find my soulmate who asks me on dates.
Sometimes I just sit and ponder just think alot and wonder.
What's going to happen next and why I have pain in my chest
And why haven't already been a goner and if I'm a stoner.
Oh and how I got to be the best alot better than the rest.
I try not to be a hot mess and keep smiling no matter what
Your guess is as good as my guess and living takes guts.
So just keep on rising and smiling just fake it if u feel crappy.
It not ur business whats said about you shouldn't care at all.
As long as your happy then everything else is a mite point.
They don't have a life that's true never had to make that call.
Whether someone is too sappy so be nice and never taunt.
Cause you don't know what they been through or if they're ok
It's better to be nice and say the truth 1day some1 will stay.
Be by ur side always and always ride no matter the ways.
Your life is heading towards and one you will never be bored.
That your good to your core and wanna learn so much more.
You dreamt u flew like an eagle u soared or like a lion roared.
You'll never again question why never be afraid to try.
Anything at all cause ur not afraid I'm glad he stayed.
Right by my side won't say bye even if options are weighed.
I really try to keep an open mind and walk next to not behind.
Cause your from their ribs and ur pick even if one says dibs.
Your eyes are open your not blind and always try to be kind
Get rid of negative thoughts for good even if misunderstood.
Just keep trying don't ever think of actually giving up
You can get through anything you can always rise above
Anything that tries to get in the way one day some1 will stay.
Categories:
dibs, cute, dedication, deep, devotion,
Form:
Rhyme Royal
I'm cruising, watching cars go by
Speeding down the highway, such a treat
Wind on my fur, I feel I can fly,
I've got dibs on the window seat
Speeding down the highway, such a treat
I'm a dog who loves a car ride!
I've got dibs on the window seat
I see my pitbull pal, her eyes open wide
I'm a dog who loves a car ride!
I'm filled with glee, loving the scene
I see my pitbull pal, her eyes open wide
I'm a canine with a gangsta lean
I'm filled with glee, loving the scene
Wind on my fur, I feel I can fly
I'm a canine with a gangsta lean
I'm cruising, watching cars go by
5-17-2020
Photo 2
Categories:
dibs, car, dog, pets, travel,
Form:
Pantoum
In summer re: I haint getting undressed!
Hence donning entire wardrobe,
Saint Nick outfit including,
while trumpeting think spring
argh only about four plus months away
lest some big bird willingly
takes me under their wing
undiscovered since I won't be peaking,
nor quacking duck like
prompts yours truly xing
to tropical rainforest
playing Tarzan and swing
from a vine, while Jane and Cheetah
(sometimes billed as
Cheetah, Cheta, and Chita)
spend hours shopping
upon returning home stock
pantry and house zing
cupboards stacked chock full of
goodies fit for average king doubling
up as Santa Claus gaining
weight courtesy snack foods like
Yodels, Little Debbies, Ring Ding...
thence outsize tummy doth happily sing
Christmas Carols practicing
all year round, especially
hoe hoe hoe wing
nsync with crops germinating
bending, stooping, watering... weeding
abiding techniques organic farming
naturally whenever possible mission avoiding
distributing, generating, impacting
ecological damage, viz carbon footprint
cheerily, humorously proselytizing
landlubbers (land lovers with lisp)
courtesy sweat of one's brow reaping
robust healthy crops - only allowing
enabling, and employing...
eco-friendly deterrents
bajillion green thumbs up
approved by Greta Thunberg
greenlighting her inspiration
to awaken global warming
hence first dibs when harvesting
season this after she subtly,
nonchalantly, enviously... seen eyeing
analogous vis a vis
hungry critters salivating
(think Pavlov's dog)
to savor NON GMO eye watering
delectable, honorable, laudable...
yumzook produce bespeaking
please help yourself
fast forward months later finding
das overly dressed mistir shivering
despite heavily bundled
nature's vegetarian smorgasbord
brutal coldspell faintly recalling
pitch perfect weather eventually returning.
Categories:
dibs, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Among the crafty things I own
A mobile's one I love,
Suspended from the ceiling,
Gently twirling from above.
A moon and stag are up above,
Three pine trees hang below,
With stars, a heart, plus creatures
Of a type I do not know.
Their movement's imperceptible
At times, but with a breeze,
They rotate in a manner which
Has never failed to please.
For mobiles shouldn't be confined
To galleries or cribs.
When this one caught my eye, I knew
That I would have first dibs.
And every time I catch it shift
I smile at its design,
Delighted that I made my move
To make that mobile mine.
Categories:
dibs, art,
Form:
Rhyme
As the oldest child, I got to choose
Before my other sibs.
From where to sit or what to do,
I was awarded dibs.
The fact of being older meant
I had a certain clout
That might have caused resentment
But was always straightened out.
My younger grandchild, though, believes
Her status holds the keys
To open every door she can
Which “youngest” guarantees.
She doesn’t think it’s fair the order
Of her brother’s birth
Allows him any privileges,
But then, for what it’s worth,
If “oldest” has no value,
“Youngest” has to be the same.
Too bad there is no middle child
Around to fan the flame.
Categories:
dibs, family,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m toey this morning, we’re getting a test back. I was all right or all wrong. I’m early, the first one here. I’m hoping the TA will early-bird and return my test before anyone else gets here. That way, when I run and jump out the 3rd story window, no one else will be traumatized.
I’m trying to have-sac but I’m keyed-up and quivering like a junkie. My chair seems all hard angles. I didn’t sleep much. My mind is replaying the test in a loop, resisting the unreliable seduction of hope. I've decided my score depends on one variable in question 3.
This semester I feel like one of those Cirque du sloeil acrobats that spin ten plates on a pole while riding a motorcycle. I realize I’m biting my fingernails and the parental voices that live in my head spring to life. I shut them down with a shake of my head, they’ll have their say later.
Oh, great, another student’s here, Clint, I think. He’s a stengo from someplace tropical. I’ve never talked to him 1-on-1 but we were in a lab group once, where we had to synthesize a coordination complex and characterize it. He’s smart, polite, and forever chipper. He settles into his seat and slouches like he hasn’t a care in the world. I don’t like him this morning.
If he’s wrong, he’s going to have to throw himself down the stairs, I’ve got dibs on the window.
slang..
toey = nervous, edgy
early-bird = arrive early
have-sac = be brave and grow a pair
stengo = a good looking, exotic guy
Categories:
dibs, school, stress, student, teen,
Form:
Free verse
We struggled along damp, smoke-filled streets;
leaves still summer green,
a chilly breeze rustling some, turned golden early
in anticipation of the fall.
Neil at one end of the log;
me at the other.
Occasionally we paused our journey, rested;
took turns with the diminishing gobstopper;
and backward walking with the heavy branch.
Early October, our collecting started;
we had first-dibs on Ethel Jones' old settee,
two shabby chests of drawers,
about a mile of rotten fence,
branches collected from the woods,
assorted liberated shrubs,
and now, of course, a giant log.
We were to build
the most monumental funeral pyre;
the street had ever seen,
topped with fabricated Guy,
long-wheeled from door to door
for a penny here or there.
It would be the biggest and the best,
standing proud in the bombed-out lot,
that was our playground,
but once home to family and friends.
November fifth would come,
the bonfire built, would fiercely burn;
cracking windows with the blistering heat
scorching paint on faded doors.
Part-cooked potatoes
thrown in the embers;
would later, held in hands
be greedily eaten with a spoon;
steam rising from damp, woollen gloves.
Red noses, rosy fire burned cheeks,
sparklers waving patterns in the dark;
oohs, aahs; and gasps at fiery rockets,
whirling Catherine wheels and jumping jacks.
Then time for bed
Our grubby faces,
smoked stenched hair and clothes
would last a week
'till bathday.
October Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Date wrote: 03-October-2021
Categories:
dibs, celebration, firework, october,
Form:
Free verse