Best Dykes Poems
Vincent
from within sanctum dykes
glamour
birthed from sorrow
celestial brightness
whirling
in Prussian azure
and sublime gold
Urania in the welkin'
blackness in the spirit
breezes probes hefty
all alone in your wisdom
an optical lover
within
dancing with orbs
through gaps with iron rods
go bust in flesh
your title
always
moored in the starlit darkness.
Written September 29, 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Categories:
dykes, art, tribute,
Form:
Free verse
IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA
BASE FORTHWITH.
ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS,
SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS,
WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, SHRINKS, COLONEL
CLINKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES,VENDORS, SUPPLIERS,
SALESMEN, ACCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS,
HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS,
COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS,
RELATIVES, FIANCES, BOYFRIENDS, GIRLFRIENDS, FRIENDS, FOES,
ENEMIES, EVIL NEMESIS’, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS,
TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS,
QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, FAGS, DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY
ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, [PRE OR POST] MALE IMPERSONATORS,
DICKS, DYKES, VAN DYKES, DICK VAN DYKE, LESBIANS, LONGSHOREMEN,
SHORTSHOREMEN, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET
MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, JUVENILE DILINQUENTS,
SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS,
LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS,
DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS,
SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICENE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES,
WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS,
VIGILANTES, VICTIMS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS,
PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS,
RIGHT WING, LIBERALS OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS. THEY ARE NOT TO
CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBERS.
BUT, IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.
BA-ZING!
?
Categories:
dykes, bullying, computer, internet, rude,
Form:
Am a lass fae Govan
There a wiz born n breid
When a wiz wee a wiz playing tig on the dykes
N a split ma poor wee heid
Fae Glesga to Fife
Wiz where we went
To a flat in Methil
That ma maw goat fur rent
To skool a went like
A scaredey cat, didny know wit ti expect
2nd year it the high skool
Wiz a bit eh a pain in the neck
Home eckie wiz the class
A wanted it to be fun
Skool went well n a started wurk
Tull a wiz cooking a bun
Am a mammy eh 3 noo
Bit wit kin a say?
A replaced the telly
Nae mare tumbles in the hay
Ma weans are getting big fast
Aw gawn ti skool their self
But if a dont shake ma **** now
A might get left oan the shelf
Categories:
dykes, adventure,
Form:
Verse
The savage dog barks from the distance
Like family history, representing cancer's deadly hold.
Her courage provides defence with strengthening resistance
While the dog runs boldly through the blistering cold.
As she struggled to get through mind gamed work,
The dog continues to howl from an eerie spot.
Pain showers her like thunderstorms beginning to lurk
Over the horizon; her cervical cells starting to rot.
With concrete season over, hope takes a push
From a devouring disease. Tears shatter her pace.
Now that savage dog rustles in the bush;
She cries with a smile dying on her face.
Fear is growing exponentially like accululating snow.
With her emotion dwindling, the dog imposingly strikes.
Patience, now a task like watching dead grass grow.
Lasers or radiation, the key to flooding dykes.
That courage mentioned before unfolds and presents itself
With questionably undefined power just like a Terry Fox run.
Her yielding sense of overcome drenches all including oneself,
Now that savage dog dead; Cory has dangerously won.
With her spirit completely fufilled to life's brim,
That deadly howl quietly remains true and grim.
Categories:
dykes, inspirational, recovery from...dog, courage,
Form:
Rhyme
I took a ride on the other side
of a wide ocean and wilder skies
People spoke there
In languages unknown to us
Only two of us are in our mother tongue
That night I really travelled, too, far
And never thought of retracing back
I did not ask myself anything
With excitement, I kept walking
On the beautiful oceanic waves
Though I lost my returning track.
Yet I did not mind
Then the waves went really high
And we rushed into a building
It was octagon in shape
And was very clean
Ten feet wide
And long was thirteen feet
Then the dykes of confusion broke
And I understood why we were there
In an island where we were complete strangers
Among the unknowns
We two are only together.
I could not believe
Around us the air could be crisp
And the sky could be wide and blue
And would fall upon us
With a sound drip, drip
Yet I feared something could go wrong
And we might have to face an unexpected worse.
What it would be like
if nobody was impressed or phased by
Then I felt a strong jerk followed by an earthquake.
And my dream journey is over
And I silently woke up
Though I did not sleep
Since then been searching my wallet
Containing my identity card
On the rough soil of this hard world
And in the harsh reality of real life
After silently walking off the oceanic waves.
Categories:
dykes, wisdom,
Form:
Free verse
Each time my Auntie Rosa went to shop in the High Street,
She’d bring us back a pink-iced bun; it was our special treat.
We’d take them up to Grandad’s (we preferred to eat them there)
We’d scoff them in the kitchen, in his big old Windsor chair.
And Grandad made us thick black tea, as thick as tarmacadam,
And carrots from the garden (if the rabbits hadn’t had ‘em!)
He tried, I guess, but honestly, his cooking was quite ropey,
And since he washed his plates in Daz, it always tasted soapy!
He kept rabbits out behind his house (some of them were tame.)
In the front grew antirrhinums – ‘bunny-rabbits’ once again.
Their soft and furry noses looked exactly like each other:
Each flower a tiny replica of its herbivorous brother.
His house was full of assegais, elephants and gongs.
He’d tell us of his voyages and sing us salty songs …
He always wore a waistcoat and a greasy old flat cap.
He still walked with a sailor’s roll, the nautical old chap!
When Grandad wanted 'baccy, I’d go down Kit-Cat Lane
To the musty shop in a wooden hut - ‘The Cabin’ was its name.
T’was just like in a cowboy film, with barrels and all-sorts;
But best of all was the real stuffed bear, moulting on the porch..
Sometimes we’d go to Gordon’s house. His garden had a swing.
We’d crawl under his veranda, and discuss Lee’s brother’s Thing!
Gordon did love swimming! He went in the sea each day.
He went in once too often, for he drowned out in the bay.
Those summers on the island seem so very long ago.
These days I can’t remember why it is I loved them so …
But sometimes, when a nasty pong comes drifting from a drain,
It smells just like the Canvey dykes, and I am there again …
I’m padding down a sandy path, between two slime-filled ditches,
My hair is wet, my skin tastes salt, my swimsuit rubs and itches.
I turn the corner of the lane; the graveyard smell is gone …
In Grandad’s garden, there’s my Dad! He’s come to take me home!
For the uninitiated (or simply younger!), an assegai is an African Zulu warrior's long spear,
and tarmacadam is the stuff you put on roads - blacktop!
Categories:
dykes, childhood, nostalgiahouse, old, garden,
Form:
Narrative
Note a deep fill that ever grows;
Urge that grandeur that floods goodwill;
Rouse a fond thrill that heals all blows;
Touch a splendour that surely heals.
Use bold magic that seems cryptic;
Rise above pain where anger flies;
Enter mystic beyond tragic;
Unwrap love plain that never dies.
Niche a love fond that grows and grows;
Charm the forlorn with grace that calms;
Opt for sure bond and trace wise glow;
Now love adorns kind face with balm.
Dye love steady and colour fast;
Indulge true health in form and fest;
Truth stands ready to purge the past;
Intent funds wealth in wit and jest.
Observe the hurts and pains that come;
Nurture the heart as soul lives grace;
Allow harsh dirt in bitter sums;
Listen and start to live love's face.
Light fills the way if you must know;
Offer to be a glimpse of hope;
Value each day to bridge pain's lows;
Express and see true love that scopes.
Heed the warning as pain can slay;
Embrace the truth when evil strikes;
Reach deep within to find love's way;
Etch a sure proof that bears all dykes.
Live love without conditions here;
Obtain that surge that seeds pure good;
Use peace to shout with calming cheer;
Do serve that urge to love not brood.
Leon Enriquez
17 March 2015
Singapore
Categories:
dykes, blessing,
Form:
Quatrain
REMEMBER ME
NOVEMBER IN AMSTERDAM
This must be
where fallen leaves
come to settle.
The two of us, not quite
in our dotage yet, feel at home,
anchored in such an autumn.
Submerge my heart in one of these dykes
when I'm gone.
Ashes, you see, need the clutches
of still brown waters
to escape being scattered to the winds.
Categories:
dykes, autumn, death, emotions, farewell,
Form:
Free verse
I took a ride on the other side
of a wide Ocean and wilder skies
People spoke in different language
Only two of us are of our mother tongue
That night I really traveled, too, far
And never thought of retracing back
Until I missed my identity
Out of my jacket pocket.
I did not ask myself nor did I mind
With excitement I kept walking
On the beautiful oceanic waves
Losing my return track.
Then the waves rose really high
We rushed into a building
Octagon in shape and very clean
Ten feet wide thirteen feet long
Then the dykes of confusion broke
And I understood why we were there
So far in an island totally stranger
Among the unknowns we, two, together
I could not believe there, too,
Around us the air could be crisp
And the sky could be wide and blue
Falling upon us with a sound drip, drip
The musical drops of rain from a divine cloud.
Yet I feared something could go wrong
And might have to face unexpected worse
What, if nobody was impressed or phased by
Then I felt a strong jerk followed by an earthquake.
The dream was over and I silently woke up
Since then I have been searching my identity and wallet.
On the rough soil of hard world and harsh reality
After silently walking off the oceanic waves
Categories:
dykes, allegory,
Form:
Clue No.1) It can be associated with keyboard humor.
2)Yikes / Strikes, Thumbs In Dykes!
Good Luck!!! Please email to Super Quiz Poetry Contest comments, AND to me
at Quasarttt228@aol.com....since so far I have been (with typical Tomfoolery!!)
unable to retrieve any entries....I told you I need a "check-up from the neck up",
did I not??? Thanks, and may the best poet win!!!! tom
Categories:
dykes, adventure, allegory, computer-internet, confusion,
Form:
Blank verse
Strong communities,
We all can see,
Are less often at sea,
More often home for tea,
With all cakes file free.
Strong communities,
Have no need for rate fees hikes,
As they mostly ride their bikes,
And tend to build their own dykes,
Never encouraging the fast buck types.
Strong communities,
Produce the good sorts,
Who are happy to wear their shorts,
Play their sports,
And share their thoughts on their little bits of paradise.
Strong communities never compromise,
When watching the sun rise,
Or helping a mate realize,
How much of a prize,
Is a community on the rise.
Categories:
dykes, beauty, blessing, butterfly, childhood,
Form:
Didactic
Stop Holes in Dykes
Poem will jot down and quickly scribble
And at your imagination, it will nibble
As if a frantic fish searching for bait
Swimming then taking time to hesitate.
Finally fish would come to a complete stop
And into his mouth a tasty poem will pop
May be thought of as a trifle or eyeful
Of an experience proving to be delightful.
My poems do not mean much compared to yours
And if not in right mind people often bores
But after looking at you and all of your likes
Can use my poems to patch up holes in dykes.
Guess you could consider this as part of constructive
criticism with great wisdom of future poems to come.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
Categories:
dykes, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
There’s a difference
between the wild animals of the wilderness
and creatures
trapped between cities.
Even farms wedged between urban sprawl
eventually forget how to farm.
Trees planted in concrete avenues
know they will never die naturally.
Meanwhile, wild things adapt.
some creep and hide,
some linger to build dykes
for their eyes, so their minds don’t drown.
The trees grow as fast as they can,
but even the tall city plantings
know they have nowhere to go.
Categories:
dykes, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Hey, guys...Since I've been negligent regarding clue posting; The Super Quiz
deadline will be extended till midnight of Friday 10/19/07. So, good luck- and
here is clue recap, once again- No. 1)It can be associated with keyboard humor.
No.2)Yikes, strikes, thumbs in dykes/dikes- actual spelling should have been
dikes- remember, I admit being brain-dead. No.3)It's namesakes generally
come in pairs. New; No.4) It's sweet to the senses, of that, you can bet your hat.
Good Luck!!!
Categories:
dykes, adventure, allegory, mystery, nature,
Form:
Prose Poetry
To all y'all poetry lovers I need y'all to really listen
because It don't come easy wit puttin together these writtens
at the end of this poem don't think I was just kidding
But I just wanna know whats up these Baltimore women
maybe it's just me, but if I go to any other city
and speak to a female she speaks back to me
this is for the women but I know the niggas can relate
y'all might say y'all love us but all I'm gettin is a lot of hate
Question? how would I know a good woman by the way she walks
image is everything especially by the way she talks
females in Baltimore can't find a good man because they lost their sight
and the complaining got so bad that they started marrying dykes
all these women here ain't bad I just met the wrong ones
they really don't want love they just wanna have fun
so as for me I'm just gone fall back and stack this money
so black women don't get mad if I find love wit a snow bunny
Categories:
dykes, life, on writing and
Form:
Free verse