Best Drip Dry Poems
HAPPILY EVER AFTER
Shall glass behold your countenance, my prince?
Appears your smile whilst shining shoes on feet.
My honesty and faithfulness convince - - - - - -
Your heart to trust…our hearts concede to beat.
One day does not a week make, dear. Let’s tell!
A Friday makes a lifetime wife! Oh yes!
This lonely man, like diamonds in the well,
becomes a shooting star to shine, to bless.
Get well within a hospital ~ not bliss.
Each argument, we bleed, we cry and die.
After so many years – we bond, we kiss.
No closer pair on line - our eyes drip-dry.
My Prince and his gal Friday calm, at rest.
We wring out tears, renew our vows ~ we’re blest.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Categories:
drip dry, angst, love, marriage,
Form:
Sonnet
Zeitgeist - My 1960s - Liz Walsh
Kaftans, mini-skirts, Carnaby Street fashions.
Angel Delight, Hirondelle wine and that sheepskin rug.
"The price of round steak on a Saturday" while
Magdalen Laundries kept dark, dark secrets!
Nylon socks, Cuban heeled boots, body odour -
"it's always the girl's fault - she led him on!-
Button-down collars, civil Rights Marches,
Suspender belts old fashioned, false eye-lashes black -
Excitment, tights, "parents afraid of the new".
Stilletto heels crucifying, Rosary beads grumbling -
"Oh Sacred Heart of Jesus I place all my trust in thee"
Hamburgers, Fleetwood Mac, Anoraks - guilty! remember
Archbishop McQuaid! Bishop Lucey bullying Father Good!
"Wimpey Take-away" - meet a fella - womans lib!
Vietnam War, Albert Hall and Wilson Pickett.
"Would you kiss a boy on the first date?
Drip dry nylon, Dickie Rock gyrating
"Plastics are the future” the graduate said.
"Would you take the pill?"
Tayto crisps - "cheese and onion" munching in the dark.
Che Guevara, Mao Tse Tung and that little red book
In an empire line dress.
Church domination, contraception and major cigarettes
"Back-combing" Vesta Curries and a packet of smash
Maxi, mini, midi-dresses - pan-stick
Mary Quant, Twiggy and the Film Society party.
Flirting innocently, terrified hope - guilt ridden thoughts.
Surges of males, females standing
Eyes scanning, high pitched laughing
"Would you like to dance?"
Free love, flower power, heart thumping
Expensive shoes, a relic of St. Imelda and a chain-store dress -
"She will only get married” Miss Brigid Hayes said!
Afraid of the future, afraid of corruption
Brain exploding - ALL MIXED UP -
Categories:
drip dry, nostalgiaheart, heart,
Form:
It wasn't that she couldn't read
It was just instructions she failed to heed
For on the back was a washing label
100% fact, 0% fable
Perhaps she thought it was a lie
"Drip dry" "Drip dry" "Drip dry"
Before they were washed the fit was roomy
And I would say it's safe to assumey
That deep within her Christmas heart
She longed for a gift from old Walmart
For as they tumbled in the dryer
And the heat got higher higher
A man's size large became a small
Becoming short instead of tall
Now it wasn't that she pulled a *****
The sweats just got a brand new owner
"Hello" to Kris, to Jim "Good-bye"
"Drip dry" "Drip dry" "Drip dry"
Categories:
drip dry, funny
Form:
Rhyme
In a way that lease we broke is a good thing you see
We can travel forever now, it only just set us free
We can see the sights outside the city lights
Come on with me sweetie, we'll soar to new heights
We can go to the ocean and put our toes in the sand
Wish upon the stars and sleep in the Caravan
There are truck stops with pretty good Dinners
Nothing to stop us, unless we get flat tires
I can make some money there playing my guitar solos
We'll keep basically to ourselves and ignore the hobos
I know a interstate highway that runs west
We'll save money bathing as we're dressed
We could lay out and drip dry on the shore
And then never want for anything more
Lets get that sixty two dollars out of the bank
It will be more than enough to fill up the tank
Just you and me against the open road
We can search the beaches for lost gold
Just pack up the van with only our clothes
In no time at all, we'll be smelling like a rose
Categories:
drip dry, parodyme, money,
Form:
Rhyme
feeling exposed as mud splatters,
the cotton clinging and drenched
chattering teeth, seething relief
as the sun warms the rancid smile
of bulbous peaches pressing,
depressing and like an eclipse,
a disturbing shadow of unwomanliness.
all at once passionate, lusting, learned,
yes educated by tongue-filled eyes
and lies of squeezing love. tears drip-dry
for the milkmaid and the sodden sisterhood.
the fun begins, a roundup, but who wins...
i stand at a safe distance, heart on full alert,
stirring cheers and deathly gaps of shadowplay,
snipped cutouts of the soul hung on hangman lines.
a story waiting to be told on bar stools. another man
leans in looking at her wretched chest rise and fall,
fully ready to expose the secrets, pinning them
to the ground. and the sun goes up and down.
9/19/2018
First Place Premiere Winner
Mid-September 2018 Contest (Brian Strand)
Categories:
drip dry, dark,
Form:
Free verse
Now sits the redeye gravy in the pan
It certainly is not at all like jam
Mom made it years ago for her man
Fry some country ham, pour coffee bam
Never knew why it was called redeye
Then my grandson informed me just why
Men who had been out late had bleareye
Who looked like they had been drip-dry
I always thought that it was because
It had dark red color from drippings
In my home it got an applause
I thought that it was God's blessings
I learned my husband doesn't like it
My grandson doesn't like redeye gravy
When I make it only make a bit
Always redeye gravy left heavy
Today decided to place on grits
Feed to the cats see if they like it
Now cat is running around won't sit
I guess that caffeine gave them lift
Categories:
drip dry, animals, father, food, funny,
Form:
Quatrain
The noon sunray squeezes my eyes,
Viewing the snowy mountain heights,
Under immense blue screen:
What a nice shiny scene!
The birds sunbathe their wings in high;
First rain left few flowers drip-dry;
The yellow and brown foliage
Shade the shrubs of wood sage.
The sunray chills the entire scenery;
A strange ton in the nature contrary;
Strained my flaming face;
Frosted in the sunny place.
Like the cute smiling of a pretty lady
Attracts man who falls in love badly;
His dream will soon vaporize:
Body language could be a lie!
Categories:
drip dry, language, smile, sun, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
Down from the statue
and into the water
they will come for you
Out from the safety and into the womb
they will comfort you
The scanning of retinas stops now
though it’s not like I got complaints
It’s just the landlords of autumn have disclosed a lot
and they have tainted the sacred grace
For climax
add some fabric calamity and you got yourself a being
To detract anyone
add to the archetype of slings and arrows
only then will you be “seeing”
Rocks fall
humans crawl
Primordial urges
power surges
Planets shift
but trends stick
Drip dry those subliminal thoughts
they’re projecting more then you think
Sort me out
Anyone could sort me out
we’re all the same
The scanning of retinas
will never stop
The energy rattles the earth off it’s hinges
and the dirt from the grave
But I promise you it will never stop
until none of us are the same
Categories:
drip dry, artautumn, me,
Form:
Free verse
Celestial weeping - angel tears,
pouring from Arcadian spheres,
liquid sunshine from Gods own eye,
I kiss the rain as clouds drip dry.
Rich pearly drops - heavenly bliss,
quench the fire of my souls abyss,
crystalline rills that gush from high,
I kiss the rain as clouds drip dry.
Gentle runnels - watery grace,
baptise my body and my face,
raising my head up to the sky,
I kiss the rain as clouds drip dry.
Categories:
drip dry, cry, kiss, rain, weather,
Form:
Quatrain
When I was young my mum ironed my jeans
With my clean underwear on I thought I looked keen
But as I grew older and had to look after myself
Ironing your jeans was a sign of wealth
So I didn't iron them to give that lived in hook
When I found that I had a hip new look
Where it was simple just to wash them
And put them on with no need for sloppiness to defend
But sometimes being drip dry would my scene
Walking around in them wet after they were clean
So they are a versatile garment of many uses
Just don’t iron them or make any neatness excuses.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Categories:
drip dry, fashion, world,
Form:
Ballad
the rain spilled its barrels on my way to work
hit a pot hole and the tire split
the spare like a donut was cream filled
a passing motorist splashed me with a puddle
my nice matching suit was not drip dry
could not go to the office looking like this
stopped at the cleaners for a dry clean
told them to hurry so I wouldn’t be late
the suit came rolling out on the circling rack
missing some buttons and cuffs turned up
I gave them the bird and dashed out in my skivvies
was picked up for indecent exposure
taken to court which the judge then laughed
“didn’t your mama tell you they’d be days like this?
I replied didn’t your mama tell you to only wear fruit of the loom?
Categories:
drip dry, funny,
Form:
Free verse
A slow and painful crash
Where one sees one's face
Approach the dashboard in infinite detail
Where one has time
To check one's fear in the mirror
But instead takes a suck on a vape
And puts one's foot down
And, speeding through abandoned suburbs,
Is caught in a storm of fire.
Carry me from the burning vehicle?
No, better to wait inside
And watch thoughts fly from window to window
Like glowing ashes
Until the mind is quiet
And the roof withers with embers
Lilac in their demise
For only in silence
Can the sphere of the stars unfold
And the old clepsydra drip dry, again.
Categories:
drip dry, car, death, environment, fire,
Form:
Free verse
Your hands linger now as prints upon my mind.
I became a glove for your love.
I gave you my tongue
so you could speak a moment of ecstasy.
You gave me Cauliflower Cheese,
the only meal you could cook.
Then when you were done
with my squishy love,
you left on a bus, never to return.
That was back then
when cakes were left out in the rain,
when poets wore bell-bottoms.
I recall it rained for days
in our love-stained apartment.
The mattress survived,
but all too soon,
it forgot how to talk
like you used to.
Categories:
drip dry, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
A reluctant dawn
predicts a heel dragging day.
The sun slinks away from the sky
with dawn cast eyes.
Pond ducks swim slow,
as amnesia paddles them
in nowhere circles.
Lead tinted tears,
plop from stiff trees,
or hang as chill,
metallic drops of
melting air.
Some early hours
must drip-dry
all over your eyes
creating a lip-heavy
sag,
until someone
you don't like the look of,
shouts:
"Good morning,"
Categories:
drip dry, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Your hands lingered as prints upon my mind.
I became a glove for your love.
I gave you time,
I gave you my tongue
so you could speak a moment of ecstasy.
You gave me Cauliflower cheese,
the only meal you could cook well.
Then when you were done
with my squishy love
you left on a bus, bound for West Ham,
left and did not wave back
from its people stuffed windows.
That was back then
when cakes were left out in the rain,
when poets wore bell-bottoms
when flower power flexed its stems
with blond muscle men.
No beaches in Tottenham,
the parks probably still are
municipal mud baths.
I recall it rained for days
in our love-stained apartment.
London often chooses
to live in small puddles of loneliness.
The mattress we had inherited,
survived to moan on and on.
Categories:
drip dry, poetry,
Form:
Free verse