Best Excitedly Poems
**"And his name was Jack"**
No one perceives what abides above the clouds.
A giant, a harp, maybe golden eggs.
I demand to see and feel before I believe.
A castle, a dream…. I want the magic beans!!!
~~~
I'm the daughter of a farmer.
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk” my favorite tale.
Once upon a morbid dawn.
I inhale a tiny simple yawn
Like the morning sun levitating over the farm,
I rise towards the village square to sell my ass
Along the open path, my ass and I desired a drink.
Near the rustic river,
I'd seen an old Englishman, sitting on a log.
It looked as if time was approaching his brink.
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black.
His eyes were not from this ground.
His body fragile - it uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt.
I was pure.
He pledged his life to me.
I debated .... with many thoughts,
Although his eyes...
My eyes... Will never meet again.
"I want what's in the bag!"
In a gasp, he whispers,
"I'll give you anything for that ass.
my legs and bones can’t hold up on their own!”
I knelt down to where he sat
Smelling his essence of rot
I reached forward and grabbed his baggage
He griped, "This bag is all I got!"
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ASS!"
He replied, "I have no cash."
Scowling at him, “NO I want your demon seeds!"
My blood grew thin...
Inhaling and exhaling - his sin
The old man all shriveled and timeworn,
Proposed the birthright of the seeds.
"Yes, plant them! Plant them!"
I cried excitedly!
He pats the field.
Said "there I am done,
now clock as it expands"
To breed this story short...
He dispenses his seeds.
AND, I GAVE HIM MY ASS.
BY;PD
I’m on my way into the grocery store
when I see him huddled near the shop doorway
In his outstretched hand
an empty coffee cup
I throw in a coin or two
smile, and ask his name
I’m Jack ma’am’ he says politely; and this is Benji ...
it’s only then that I notice a small brown terrier
his black nose poking out
from underneath a stained sleeping bag
Benji leaps up and wags his tail excitedly
at the mention of his name
I stoop down and he nuzzles my hand
I’ve a lump in my throat as I tell Jack
Benji reminds me of my dog Sam
who I lost last summer
Oh, how I miss the comfort of my pet
Jack’s blue eyes fill with tears
it's then I discover
he’s been on the streets for a few months
Benji’s my only true friend, he says
He’s never let me down -
not like my folks back at home
I can see Benji is well cared for
the exact opposite of Jack
who looks like he’s not eaten a square meal in days
I rise to do my shopping
and pass them both on the way out
I drop a brown carrier bag into Jack’s lap
he opens it like it’s Christmas Day
Inside are several pouches of dog food
and some substantial sandwiches
It is but a small gift,
yet I can see it means the world to him
he reaches up and touches my hand
I’m sorry son,
I wish I could do more to help
but I only have a small widow’s pension
I walk away,
knowing how fortunate I am
"This is no life, just a way of surviving another day"
I’ve had ups and downs in my life, but ...
“I've never been where they've been”
Writing Challenge 2, November - A Poem Meaningful - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Written on 10/7/19
Let me tell you a story....
of a little girl who didn't want to be a Princess!!!!
it happened a long time ago, in the life of an adorable girl of seven,
who lived in the busiest humming city, enormously crowded.
a gentle dreamy-eyed girl, who chose secret corners to read,
and play with her cherished dolls' house, which her father built.
as it happened..her father found a job..and it was an idyllic countryside,
excitedly she followed family, felt fortunate to be close to nature.
a fairyland of her dreams, a picturesque hamlet surrounded by lush fields,
lived in a cottage encircled by a gorgeous garden, bird-songs, and swings.
she went to the village-school, which was a mere walking distance,
carrying her backpack, water bottle, and books she needed.
her father was the powerful manager of the local textile mill,
where most of the villagers worked, and earned their living.
all the children glanced at her as if she were a Princess,
but this soft dainty lass craved to be purely one of them.
she noticed...those children were walking barefoot to school,
no backpack, no bottle of water, no shiny expensive clothes.
end of the day, she returned home, and declared to her caring parents,
"I don't need the backpack, bottle for water, or the stylish shoes...
starting from tomorrow, I am going to walk to school barefoot"
her parents were shocked, but didn't disagree with her at all.
from the following day, the warm friendly girl of seven,
felt totally comfortable and undoubtedly right, with her decision.
all children were frolicking with her, no more was she a distant Princess,
she was their delightful friend...sharing the same life they had in the village.
she still remembers those eyes which sparkled with wonder at the way they were accepted,
a lifelong memory was created, the gesture kindled a feeling of oneness.
April 16, 2022
For N - Form Narrative - New - Poetry Contest
Theme:Life
Sponsor: Constance La France
SECOND PLACE
You are mine ~ I am yours ~ in this together
Your heart and mine in synchrony they beat
Bequeathed One with thoughts that sync mine
Enlightened Souls in love ~ a conjoined feat
Overwhelmed with the throb of your heartbeat
A subtle flutter like a butterfly’s touch within
That stirs the very essence of my soul
and tickles goose bumps that creep upon my skin
In anticipation for your fingers to hold mine
Proclaim your entry with your first lusty cry
I’ll weep a mother’s tears of soulful joy
Soothing you with my own sweet lullaby
Till then ~ for now we bond as one to the other
An affinity in the unity of a child to its Mother
He cradles us in his arms ~ you respond to his touch
The completed circle with you ~ me ~ and your father
My poem is written to celebrate the coming event for a very special couple who are excitedly expecting their first little girl.
Video clip and music by - Colbie Caillat
Written: February: 06, 2024
___________________________________________
Peaceful solitude,
letting exit of daily routine,
surrender to peace,
deep breathing calms the spirit,
relax tight muscles,
exhaling painlessly,
away from extraneous impacts,
falling into happiness.
Our palms are extended,
only a few inches away,
approach the
shrouded sanctum,
excitedly expecting,
the lavish outpour,
with the cherubs,
leap forward,
our contaminated chalice,
we shed transgressions,
slithering veneer,
digging for who we are,
out of the covetous quagmire.
Gradually into an ecstatic reverie,
where time and space are muffled,
mental symphony, being level and quiet,
quietness says volumes,
rich and calming,
controlling all noises,
who enters my head?
stillness grows inside,
permeating every bodily fiber,
magically interacting within,
so aged things may be rejuvenated,
a baffling land that hides delight,
swaying daisy petals and soft skin,
circles of cutlery.
Colorful smells scent them
pasted text paralysis,
capture lovely theaters,
subtle care cracks,
juxtaposed with colors and rich smells,
falling and reveling.
Our heroes roar
There they are
Flags held high
Voices raised too high
Eyes raised so high
Heads up in the sky
The spirit of football so much
They are our heroes
To play it all
All mouths are wide open
Throats always yelling out
Our heroes truly roar
Our hearts stir to the rhythm
While we watch the ball
We widen our souls in the stadium
One world on the pitch
We catch the ball in our eyes
We all kick it
‘****in **** we goin to do it’
The cries of victory make us sane
The laughter for the goal
The red card curse
The yellow fuss
It’s in the news ;’what a hurray’
They win or lose
The heroes kick up the wind
And kick up the sun’s rays
Till the sweat reminds us of the power
We want them to get the cup for us
When they do we promise to hail them
Though not all of us can have it
Those who lose want to kill
But we remember more excitedly
It’s better than the world war three
It’s the world cup
Those who put their lips to it
Will play it and play it
Because our heroes roar! And roar!
I am amazed by the power of you words,
They seep through my skin
Like ink’s aphrodisiac,
And I feel powerless to stop them,
The mere thought of your hands
Touching me makes
Atoms explode inside my chest,
As if a universe is being born,
A light sweat glistens over my form
As my eyes devour every syllable,
My heart beats to the tune you write,
With quickened breath
I feel it consuming me,
This sexual fantasy wax lyrical,
I fail, not miserably but excitedly
To control my minds dirty idiom,
Where do the thoughts of lust go?
I feel them cling to me
Begging to be made manifest,
Tonight your pen is my phallic pleasure,
Take me and make me your muse.
Dejected on my bed this morn, I lay while contemplating,
what seems to be a day to face, I’m really quite unwilling
The peaceful place that used to be for me was so inspiring,
has come to be now tainted with such hatred and despising.
I used to get up from my bed an hour early to see,
to share what’s new, to grow, to live, to love more perfectly.
Each new day that unfolds with friends who greet excitedly,
felt like I’ve touched the heaven’s gates where I wanted to be.
The special word that’s meant to love has come to be vitriolic,
what used to be a happy place has now been melancholic.
Why can’t we just forget our pride, a soul that’s embryonic?
An open heart and mind will help lower blood’s diastolic.
What good is it if we can talk to ad infinitum?
When all the others think an adder fills our heart and cranium.
Will wounded hearts be even healed with simply an erratum?
When people can no longer see which is our mouth or rectum!
Our love for self and things should not be so that it replaces
respect for him, regard for her, a love that recognizes
each one's unique, no one’s above, this love’s the one that reaches
out with sincere humility, forgiveness, it amazes.
SHOW ME YOUR SPIRIT CONTEST
SPONSOR: FJ THOMAS
02 May 2015
Car doors slam, country quiet broken
A race ensues… front door flies open
Dogs start barking, excitedly running
A happy day... grandsons are coming
Overnight bags in a flash are dropped
Energy released can never be stopped
"Papaw! Momo! We're here!" they yell
All that is missing is a ringing doorbell
Hugs, big smiles, checking all rooms
We stay mostly outside all afternoon
A walk up the driveway for a short hike
Playing on porch or riding their bikes
At supper they tell all that they know
Story after story and swear it is so
Baths, snacks, teeth brushed and bed
Tucked in kisses after prayers are said
Tired dogs look at us with questioning eyes
Is this temporary or for the rest of our lives?
Beside each child they settle for the night
On alert for a sign something's not right
Exhausted, we smile at our pride and joys
Grateful to have this time with the boys
8/10/16
Pure Childlike Fun and Enthusiasm Contest by Carin Krutsinger
Third Place - June 2018
Tropical quadra plateau, Amazing bright sunny,
Glided waterfall Carrying happiness in their gunny.
Long nodding flower's joyously plumed,
Everbody waving happily, the herald bloomed.
Eureka, I love this heaven on earth!
Hazy perished hills, houses trenching at the outskirts,
Swaning over to the fluctuating peak of mountains, roosted with struts.
Orchid waftured, Clinging on to the cluster of flowers,
Precipitated rain was about to shower.
Gosh, it Stimulated my soul!
King of beast, sucking the sweet tempting fragranced juices,
Solitary alienate species including Honey bees mused badly abuses.
Fluttered wings, Struggling with them, Leisurely travelling my journey.
Fitnessed physically as if I am in an defensing army.
Situation turned to be horribly muddle,
Tremendously, I wanted to sort and excitedly cuddle!
Proud to have an Airfoiled wings of mine,
Antennate feature you prissily shine.
Rainbowis passion lying inside me,
Resourcefully mingled with music and dance, happening besides me.
Whoa,People got entranced!
People jeopardize the innate beauty,
Relishingly wanna do my duty.
Actuating my arms, Ventured to fly high.
Intended inspiration wanted to reach the sky.
Weaving the web spiderman thirstily trying me to catch.
Escaping from them I ran, prevented myself from getting snatched.
Ohhh,They had a Hostile faction accord!
Nature's beauty aspiringly propelled me.
Blowing wind, tactily sensisizing my skin,
Blushing cheeks, spilled the bean.
Nocturnal creatures will wake in the dark,
Aerophilically dangling around the shruby bed,before they bark
Stopping by sayonara, continuing my next stigmatic destiny!
By Madhavi
Like my fondest memory of it, the park of my childhood still remains -
with its garden of roses near the entrance and its verdant rolling hills.
On its eastern street, It had a tiny zoo our step dad took us to.
Gone now are the monkeys, the snake house, the zebras, the giraffes,
and the elephants with wrinkly greedy trunks reaching out
for the leaves I waved excitedly in my sweaty palms.
Across the street, the swings, see saws, slides and springers beckoned us.
Dizzy with excitement, on the merry-go-rounds we spun.
Then from one thing to another, laughing, we’d all run.
When did the train and the miniature roller coaster disappear?
Even that fun pool in the park’s center with its outdoor snack shack was removed -
to be replaced in a new spot by a new pool, bigger and now with water slides.
Are the picnic tables where we gathered for wonderful reunions
even in the same green spots where they used to be?
I try to see Weed Park whenever I revisit my home town,
first crossing the quaint bridge above the pond where we could ice skate in winter.
Leaving it, I cross the street to where my fondest memory of the park remains.
There I see myself sitting on a swing, legs pumping air, as higher and higher I fly.
My father, the other one, whom I rarely see, has come to visit me and my sisters,
and I’m shouting gleefully, “Look at me, Dad! Look at me!”
Written Feb. 2016 for the contest of Craig Cornish
Unanimously, One plus one equals one community
Not for ANIMOsity but for HUMANity
In style shall we cease the opportunity
To become great in unity
Yelling excitedly till infinity
Dragon went to the mailbox this morn,
And he came excitedly flying back, yes, toward the house…
So Now, you should… be doubly, doubly, doubly forewarned.
Yep! Now, you GOTTA know… We’re in for a LOT of ensuing chaos!
Yes, He had a letter addressed to him…
With a smile on his face and a letter in his hand…
And what, you ask, had him wearing, such bubbly, bubbly, bubbly grin?
He’s going, this year, to the Fireman Competition, and held the invite so grand!
By Now, you must know, such excitement, so fine…
As usual, made his fire to run, run, run… onto the letter in hand…
And that Date, and the Time? You know, that fire? Well… never mind!
Thought this would slow Dragon? No way! He’s ready, now, for that Laurel Strand.
He flew to the Firehouse, lickety- split…
Crashing into the fire truck, giving it a broken axel and 4 tires flat, flat, flat!
Leaving his head, stuck, solidly, through the window, into the trucks cockpit…
Fortunately, out ran the fire chief, to organize the rescue, of our little dingbat…
When NOTHING ELSE would work, all the firemen…
Put their feet on the door, grabbing Dragon, and they pulled, pulled, pulled!
Finally, it took old Grandpa Troll to pull his head out, by taking the door off…
And then breaking the door apart! My! What a day, I must say, THIS had been!
Then next week’s competition was explained…
As a Charity Event to enhance and outfit their old faithful fire truck!
Now a little rescue practice will never, never, ever… it’s ascertained…
Ever be turned down! And Oh My! And Oh Well! What’s that truck worth?
That is… compared to our klutzy, little clown…
Grandpa Troll donated repairs as Dragon worked it off, day after day, after day.
My Moral is: If great you will be, then mistakes will be made along the way…
As you walk to your destiny, don’t despair; just keep going to your brighter days…
Written By Carol Eastman 5-19-2016
"What do we have for breakfast?"
"Lettuce and cabbage juice!" she
replies excitedly.
She had forced him to change
his blue pajamas to green
pajamas, then he returns
to bed -
the bed had to have green sheets,
green bed cover, and a green
pillow.
"Why do you do this to me?!" he asks.
"I was born in St. Patrick's Day!!!"
she replies.
He can't wait for a green light
to escape a world where
everything he hates is green.
He's afraid he's lost her love in the greenness....
In her room decorated like a princess’s, she sat quietly on the floor.
Carefully wrapping a small gold box and keeping an eye on the door.
She twirled the silver ribbons and tied it on the wrapped box.
Made a pretty bow and hid the gift in the draw with her socks.
On the Morning of his birthday, she jumped up on his bed
And smothered him with butterfly kisses on his cheeks and forehead
“Happy Birthday Dad” she said excitedly and handed out her present.
He sat up and hugged his little girl who was definitely God sent.
He slowly undid the wrappings and admired her creativeness.
For it was the little things she did that made his life full of bliss.
But when he opened the box there was nothing there that he could see
A little confused he said “my angel, the box seems empty”.
With her soft angelic voice, came the most priceless reply
“They’re Butterfly Kisses I blew for you, dad, for when I’m not nearby.
I know you can’t see them, but it’s filled with my love too for every time you have a bad day at work and when you are feeling blue.”
He smiled and hugged her tight and tried to hide the tears.
For his little girl of six years old is wise beyond her years.
And whenever he has a bad day and his little girl he misses.
he just opens the little gold box to receive her love and butterfly kisses.