Best Ess Poems
I am in L ove,I am the L
I am L avender,L eaving a traiL.
Like the peta L of a fLower
on your L ip at any hour.
In my L ight you can see
I am in L amp gLowing brightLy.
In your L augh and your smiLe
on your L ook and your styLe.
Though in L ess,will be more
in your L ife,tomorrow sure.
© kashpoet
=====================
Placement: 2nd; (June 2012)
Contest:Alphabet Soup
Sponsor:Nancy Jones
Bronwyn the Barbaric was a buxom lass
the envy of all her peers
She spoke with unrivaled swashbuckling sass
her pirate-ess fashion was fierce
She could charm off the arms of the most hardened men
how they'd swoon at the sight of her swagger
She ruled over cutthroats with a dangerous grin
her hand ever over her dagger
But her smile was so lovely, her style was so vogue
that she had little need for such violence
With a wave of her hand, she could tame ruthless rogues
with a look she could cause utter silence
So, peacefully she plundered (with minions to pillage
and devotedly obey her commands)
Until a shop window caught her eye in the village
and she made a bad purchase, unplanned
There she acquired the most dashing high-heel boots
custom made (according to her wishes)
But the pain that they caused was something acute
and it made the 'old girl' act quite vicious
She kidnapped the cobbler and tortured him so
she was in quite a terrible temper
She dealt him such cruel and merciless blows
the crew could hardly handle his whimpers
She became a tyrannical, treacherous wench
terrorizing from Tahiti to Tangier
Leaving in her wake only ruins and stench
with a reckless and wicked sneer
And 'though her crew were not a cowardly lot
they dared not get on her bad side
The last scalawag was both stabbed and shot
before she tossed him into the tide
But one rakish mate had an interesting offer
her vanity couldn't refuse-
If he could, just once, get those stylish boots off her
a better set he could produce
So eyeing him, slowly, she peeled the boots off
and immediately felt such relief
Gone was her bitterness, her angry scoff
gone was the source of her grief
Seeing their pirate queen herself again
the crew gathered 'round and they cheered
Those bloody boots were thrown overboard
and their mate was quite revered
Now a barefoot buccaneer, she still
struts across the deck
And if they don't bend to her will
she'll see they're put in check!
What to look for?
Where do errors lie?
Are they in the eye of the beholder
or do they lie?
I believe I’m a poet,
a prophet of paraphrase,
a swindler of alliteration,
the rhyme above all reason.
I think I know!
Am I who I think I am?
A big fat ham.
My eyes wander -
cross-eyed thinkers,
blinking s.o.s.
How Do I Overcome Success
I
Mean
Mistakes
As big as a lobster-steak!
Have a stake in me.
Teach me your tricks.
Throw the stick —
I’ll chase it,
Bring it back and wag my tail,
With openness to learn.
Burn my bridges
— not!
Great Scott,
reel me in with a fishing rod —
take the hook from my mouth.
Throw me back in.
O Genie,
make me like Aladdin —
rich in words, like a Princ(ess).
Reveal that I am a fake,
so I humbly shake
the magic from my frame,
and become who I really am.
8/28/2019
Overcoming Mistakes Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
They are coming
They never do
It is a first in a long time
I will not focus on the fact
That it is their turn
The road runs two ways
And they have not been here for five years
Releasing all disappointment and anger
into the wind, I relax and think how much fun
we will have. It will be joyous! A great time!
They are coming!
They are really coming!
I will be the hostess with the most-ess.
Wait.
Does this mean
I will have to clean?
Moses and his sweet Molly Mouse
have a puzzling dilemma.
They have used all the names they know
from Marvalee to Maryemma.
They have followed all mouse name rules.
Each must begin with letter em.
After their hundreds of babies,
they have no more new names for them.
They can’t use Micky or Minnie,
for they know the unwritten rule.
Using gods or goddesses names
will make any mouse look a fool.
When Sally Squirrel comes to call,
the new mouse family to view,
they speak of their giant problem
and ask Sally, “What shall we do?”.
Sally swiftly offers to help,
but the fine ess names that she knows,
are rejected by the mouse pair,
“We surely can’t use one of those.”
Opie Oppossum arrives to ogle
and bring names with an oh or pee.
Moses objecting once again,
“They must start with an em, you see.”
Then Molly whispers to Moses.
“I will question Miss Mynah Bird.
Mynah is sure to remember
every em word she’s ever heard.”
Miss Mynah is very happy
to respond to their fervent plea.
She has a name for every child
they will live long enough to see.
There‘s Myra and Moira and Meg,
for the girl mice now in the nest..
Maurie and Mervin and Maleg,
are boy names passing the test.
The mouse pastor baptizes them
and as he pronounces each name,
Moses and Molly glow with pride.
Miss Mynah has saved them from shame.
Personification Moses and Molly Mouse, Sally Squirrel, Opie Oppossum, Mouse pastor
Miss Mynah Bird
Audio hallucinations, voices not angelic, they're atrocious and scathing.
No one else hears whispering every now and then: Did you hear that?
Going mad a big fear; her visceral crazy dreams are becoming unclear.
Entertains, never complains of painful futile pursuit. Panic stricken, blames other.
Less what’s prescribed—dizzy, a soundproof booth she describes and it, a bother.
Outerspace, underground, heavens above, always hate! Where is love?
Reality vanishes, she comes undone—swears she hears something, someone.
Denials rest her mind; amassing piles of illusions and lies combined.
Experiments; government, bad karma! Conscience, angel or demon? Too much.
Mental illness? She is functioning and keeps it together. She’s in touch.
O God, a curse, be strong, in this damned world others suffering's much worse.
Nevertheless tries her best, she sleeps with one eye open, frightened.
—a healthy mind, a soul quest.
HER:
I'm on this blind date.
HIM:
(Baby, it's cold outside).
HER:
This date AIN'T so great!
HIM:
(Baby, it's cold outside).
HER:
I'd rather be home...
and watch paint dry!
It takes me five hours to get ready!
My Dior dress looks sexy and chic!
This half-wit is dressed in a teddy -
my best friend set me up with a freak!
HER:
We sit down to eat.
HIM:
(Baby, you look so fine).
HER:
His breath smells like feet!
HIM:
(Wishing that you were mine).
HER:
If I pass some gas -
will this jerk leave?
His manners and looks are atrocious -
and broccoli is caught in his tooth!
I'm sorry if I sound precocious:
but he makes a wild warthog seem couth!
HER:
I've got to get home.
HIM:
(Baby, it's cold out there).
HER: (thinking)
You short, KNOCK-KNEED gnome!
HIM:
(Oh, the scent of your hair...).
HER:
I really do think...
this night is done!
You may be a nice beast for someone?
But I'm not the Shrek-ess whom you seek.
My "best friend" will surely adore you -
and entertain you into next week!
HER & HIM:
Baby, it's cold outside!
Sung to the tune of: Baby, it's cold outside!
A s I think
B ack on all those days of
C onfusion, utter
D esolation, I remember
E very blessing that befell me.
F amily and friends and of course
G od above loved and cared for me.
H aving thought about it,
I realised how lucky I was.
J ennifer might be happier,
K evin more successful, but
L ess blessed are they in
M y sight, they don't have what I do.
N o, they don't have my family,
O r Awsome friends like mine either.
P erks of being who I am
Q uiet, bordering on boring
R eserved? Ha!That's what they think
S ocially awkward and of course, a
T eensy bit geeky.
U nawares caught, quite fumbling
V ain, oh, no one knows how vain,
W eird? Well I'm wired that way. Quite
X enophobic, I'm not even kidding.
Y et, that side of me gets
Z ero exposure..No one really knows me that way.
The once was a man with a long bad tongue
He wrote poor lyrics and never got sung,
His lengthy words were a farce
They came out of his ****,
Smelling like stagnate garbage of bung.
She is a lady from Mersey side
In need of a smack on her backside
Her finger always digging
To give someone a wigging
she is neither clever nor dignified.
A man from earth snorkels like a hog
Cries like a cat and growls like a dog,
A true pain in the bum
Because he is scum,
He lives happily in a repulsive bog.
There was a lady who travels a lot
She has rounded face and a beauty spot
She is loud as a siren
Thinking she’s Lord Byron
She is Dorothy they call her Dot.
There was a man who owned a yacht
He was depressed and overwrought,
Ladies loathed his clowning
They had no time for fooling,
He needed some serious food for thought.
Danny was a man from the You Ess Ay
A Canadian lady who liked to pray
A twit from Denmark with an Italian postmark
And a Kenyan who lives in Bombay.
F ire on horizon this time of year,
A utumn ushers in winter’s sear.
L ight slowly fades a bit each day,
L ess time now for outdoor play.
F loods of colour on the trees,
O ccur before the big freeze.
L eaves scatter as rain falls,
I t’s our warning - winter calls.
A maple leaf gives the best show,
G olds, reds, orange all aglow.
E njoyed by all - a Thanksgiving.
Written August 27, 2012
For Francine Robert’s contest
“Autumn Acrostic”
(The tea is pronounced ESS-i-ac)
The tea I use was born in Canada.
Holistic doctors told me of its name.
This strange concoction does a lot of good
with curing cancer its main claim to fame.
Ten minutes you must boil it. Later, put
it in the fridge; it settles like brown sludge.
You have to shake it up before each use.
That sludge does not taste anything like fudge!
Destroyer of free radicals it is -
removing toxins, healing, helping pain.
It aids digestion, even strengthens bones
and nourishes and stimulates the brain.
The list of all it does goes on and on.
So many illnesses this tea can fight.
I make enough to last for two week’s time
and drink three ounces morning, noon and night.
It’s bitter but not horrible; I’ve made
this tea my daily habit because I
am at high risk for cancer, so my friend,
in Essiac I'll trust until I die.
(I noticed at the last minute that my original version of this poem was too many lines to fit the contest requirements, so this is a revision taking out at least three verses that discuss the tea's healing properties. Please, if you are interested in learning about this wonder tea, go to my poem underneath this one and see all the details and links!)
Written Dec. 6, 2016
For the Wake Up with Coffee or Tea Poetry Contest of Kim Rodrigues
Less than love, and a disease, is limerence because
Infatuation rules the heart; obsession is the state,
Madness overtaking one who longs for love’s sweet buzz.
Enveloped by emotions, the lovesick cannot wait!
Reciprocation of his feelings is for what he yearns.
Excitement builds. Euphoria he thinks is coming soon.
Next thing you know, his ecstasy to melancholy turns,
Catapulting the infected into utter gloom!
Ephemeral are feelings that without trust's glue spell doom.
July 14, 2016 for the Limerence poetry Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
In all honesty
I believe Love is actually blind
That she lost her road
And headed straight
Into the mess, she lays in today
I hope we all find her, bathe her and clothe her
Cos she's really a mess right now...
Love used to be the gatekeeper
Between the legs of young girls
Keeping the invaders out in the wild
But these days,
She's more like the green lamp on the traffic lights
Beaconing every car to drive that route
Deep into 'The Virgin Close'
Love used to be the backbone of every man
The strength and blood that pushes men to fight
Work and be the better person
But these days
She's become the gravity pulling every man down
She's the pickaxe used by gold-diggers
Digging the wealth out of our young men
Leaving them broke—like some shattered glass
Love was so innocent back in the day
All she knew was just letters
Written by some secret admirer
And believe me
The shadiest part of the letter is
You've got beautiful brown eyes
That's a classical one
But these days
Love does Sexting
She's all about the unspeakable...
Love is so rusty
She needs some work done on her
She needs rehabilitation
From her figure to her concept
Especially her use in this context
She is meant to be the binder
Between us all
But sadly, Love is blind
We've gotta spit on the ground
Make mud and rub in her eyes
As we proclaim the phrase (Jn. 9:6)...
Here's Mud in Your Eye
And all will come to know that
Love is not blind
Love is not proud
Love is not self-seeking
Love keeps no record of wrong
Rather, Love is kind
Love is patient
Love is true
Love protects
Love perseveres
Love is beautiful
Just like the Sea...
Inspired by Martha Machief
Critiqued by Ess—Jay
No one questioned her presence
she was conditioned to think that she
could walk amongst Gods
she was no godd-Ess
amongst the god-Less
she pulled the doors of the bar towards her
the neatly, handwritten sign read: “closed”
But “she” was welcome.
she gazed at the fine spirits
they were
organized on the opaque wall
with an obsessive preciseness
she made her way from the doorway
and jumped
In.
Cold.
Calculated.
the men gathered around the pool table
drew her attention
like a gypsy string
a knot formed…
While records spun
Spun.
……………………they spun:
Miles and Miles of *****es brew,
Frank’s state of mind,
and Cash’s blues.
she wanted in the game.
8-ball
the stakes were clearly pronounced
and sanctified
by a shot of her preference
We played.
she lost.
I played well.
the senses of that evening
faded throughout time
the imagery had fallen from her
like dead things
her heartbreak continued long after we met
but we play for keeps there
and it was rightfully mine
for months my chaser
was in the form of genuine tears
out of a lipstick-smudged-chipped glass
we play for keeps here
amongst the god-Less
the sign never changes
and “she” never wins
it is a refined 8-ball game
within four heavy walls
where the only portrait of a female
hangs above the bathroom the urinal---
amidst the cocaine residue--A picture of Venus herself---
and we all wait for her to walk through
those doors---to ignore that sign---
for that 8-ball game to begin.
for me to lose.
ABC
A---aaa---Aia is for amaryllis
B---bee---Bee cause my ewe friend
C---cee---Cee me not
D---dee---Dee fray the cost
E---eee---Eee feminineness
F---eff---Eff is for fun
G---gee---Gee eye still want ewe
H---hhh---Aitch is for hell0
J---jae---Jae is still for Jesus
K---kae---Kae is for M.I.T
L---ell---Ell is just for Love
M---emm---Mmm is the sound my babay makes
>.< :D and the first letter of Mary
N---enn---Enn is for Enjoy
O---ooo---Ooo is the sound that I make
P---pea---Pea is what we both dew.
Q---quu---Quu is for my Querry
R---are---Are ewe my patticake?
S---ess---Ess is just for something
T---tea---Tea is for The Test
U---ewe---Ewe are what i want
V---vee---Vee is still for ^V^iolet
W---double u---Double u is for we win
X---exx---Exx is for Exxmas soon to be ICI
Y---why---Why is for the young ^W^hiteflower
Z---zee---Zee is for ZLast Poem from CharlaX