Best Fee Poems
Fee-On-Her Joy
The peril of the real epitome of African goddess,
Her gift packed neatness pouted love in her,
That has been brewed from Luo love pot,
Her lips lithe in the coat of spicy charm,
As she slough, the hot, sharp, and pleasant heart beating echoed voice,
In a mouth full of jibes from the blessed blossom balmed lips,
Arousing their loins at the joint of thigh,
As if it was fee-on-her, that gives birth to their joy,
She is real artistry of long lost African goddess,
Don’t ask me fee-on-her, because Fiona is she that joy.
A beau clamoured with joy to charm-hypnotized eyes,
Your enchantment leaves,
The mind free to ride,
An up and down undulating waves of dreams,
As a thin sleekly silver, chain adorns your tender neck,
And disappears into the deep ‘V’ cut,
Between, the budding bust thrust of your breast,
For those who do not know you,
Awes the bog of jealousy to your African knotted body,
Don’t ask me fee-on-her, because Fiona is she that joy.
Categories:
fee, appreciation, beautiful, bereavement, nature,
Form:
Ode
Everything has a fee,
Nothing on Earth's for free,
There is no relation,
Without compensation,
Unless it's just me versus me.
Something always involves cost,
From breathing to auto exhaust,
Imagine, people mating,
Without use of call waiting,
Millions of yen would be lost.
Even intangibles hold value,
A smile from the wind, a song on the bayou,
If you yell at your spouse,
Well, there goes the house,
The true meaning of "I do, I do".
Life is a pay-per-view event,
Due to our voyeuristic intent,
We can't cross the street,
To keep matters discrete,
All we have is fiscal repent.
(3/8/90)
Categories:
fee, business, humor, irony, life,
Form:
Limerick
Force feed me the taste of your skin
‘You will have to break my chastity belt wide open now
for I have sold myself into silent slavery to this ….our universal broken heart
even you will have to try hard……to save me now
I cannot recall your sounds…your hand motions
as they devoured the subtle softness of me
drew round my curvaceous places in curling ownership
intimacies’ sweetest embrace
But too…you move to me
with a ferocity that mowed the grass down to a short golf course length
from the living room table where you drew it happening… a hundred years ago
The length of your hair too has been a subject of much debate
Love
that surging heavenly song...that told our story so well
like that movie from long ago about the girl who cut off and sold her hair to buy her love a golden watch fob and chain …the one who sold his golden watch to buy her a beautiful clip pin for her gorgeous long hair
………………………………..you see how this goes …with true love
We cut off our noses and then turn backs on our faces
and on each other on Facebook
Itself the enemy…where only devils and the luckiest of angels spread
Tread on me beloved!
till I am awakened
to our lips
which just now in writing I suddenly can feel meeting again
taste
smell
the salted brine of your pure water and sometimes beer soaked self
Is it me you feared
as you said Good bye?
How little you know me
like the formation of the first ever green tree grows up one limb at a time
from a base long song of deep roots and strong center...so beautiful the Hosts stagger before its creation ….Halleluiah
The limbs sprouting forth like the wings bursting out of the flesh of the first angel
who died in agony as they were formed….exploding from his shoulders
moving her hair aside as the arch of wing thrust like white tree limb from the goodness within
and the reincarnation of true kindness was born to the conscious of itself
so my love knows no limit
my soul no separation
and my being no longing
Categories:
fee, angel, courage, devotion, forgiveness,
Form:
Free verse
Worry Fee.
Worry ruins the heart to give and physically not so long to live.
Categories:
fee, conflict, health, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
That is what you FEEL
Get the “L” out of there
And give me the rest
Said she
With a gaping purse
By the sea
With the “L” after SEA
She sobered to bank
Was it the worth?
Said he, Sober.
Ponder!
Categories:
fee, recovery from...,
Form:
Didactic
There are no physicians in the governments eyes.
Just a deluge of doctors who make ignorant cries.
A Health Care that's missing two things from the air.
The first one your health and the other your care.
Doctored for money; morals on the side.
Hypocrite healers; deft with their pride.
Eyes seeing eyes that purge and won't see.
-But a plague of the government and a tax that they fee.
Categories:
fee, abuse, angst, evil,
Form:
Couplet
Styx
by Michael R. Burch
Black waters, deep and dark and still:
all men have passed this way, or will.
NOTE: According to ancient Greek mythology, the Styx was the River of Death. The dead would pay Charon, the ferryman of Hades, a fare to carry them across the Styx to their eternal destination. (Hades was not "hell" as it was improperly translated in the King James Bible. Hades had heavenly regions, such as the Elysian Fields and the Blessed Isles.) The fee was normally an obolus or danake. The Greeks would place the coins in the mouths of the dead, but over time the custom would become placing coins, usually pennies, on the eyes of the dead.
Categories:
fee, bereavement, boat, death, destiny,
Form:
Couplet
The sharp suited man
With the Legal Degree
Looks back over years
To pass judgement on me.
While he was getting drunk
In student Uni bars
I was uniformed and fighting
Our country’s various wars.
The greatest impulse
Is the will to survive
To stay in one piece
To get out still alive
If you've not been there
You just can't understand
How fear and anger
Can get out of hand.
A split second’s action
In the heat of a fight
Is now being appraised
As being wrong or right.
Now we’ve both reached
Our late middle age,
Him on his thousands,
Me existing on minimum wage,
Plus the long service pension
They’ve been paying of late,
Not exactly bounteous millions
Reward for serving the state.
And he has his portfolio
Of cases, no win no fee,
And he is trying to make
A criminal of me.
In thanks for the security
For him and his ilk
That our actions earned,
Now he’s taken the Silk,
He puts our actions
Under the spotlights
As a campaigning lawyer in
The cause of Human rights.
I was a volunteer so I don’t
Expect or need his gratitude
Just maybe some compassion
To temper his attitude.
I scream in pain at the memory
Of things that I’ve done
While he waxes fat on
The fees that he’s won.
It’s a strange justice that
My efforts set him free
To harass and pursue
Combat veterans like me.
That sharp suited man
With the Legal Degree,
With the benefit of hindsight,
Passes judgement on me.
This is not about me, but the many Veterans who for years have lived under this threat. Nobody condones War Crimes, but we do ask for a level playing field and equality of treatment.
Categories:
fee, anger, anxiety, conflict, soldier,
Form:
Rhyme
Let love be my fee.
I will pay thee a currency of me,
Apart of me will be give thee,
Can you see that I am here and the rest is over here?
The fiat-currency is a problem for me,
You see for I don't work for nobody other then me,
But I will work to keep thee close to me.
I don't have nothing to give but apart of me,
Will you let me hold thou hand and cherish the moments of yin and yang?
Will you let me hold thou eyes will I stare into thou eyes?
I am not really the man in disguise when I am around you,
I feel no hunger when I am around thee,
I feel nor see nothing but THEE!
I have no money to pay this fee but if I can take more than a minute to show thee that I will work to keep thou.
Look into my eyes, I am not really the man in disguise, I am not the killer imagination, I'm just me who's having drifted images of thee and I am protecting you. With my kisses of life. Please do not hide nor deny me this request.
I will pay for every minute of your time.
Let my love be my fee.
Categories:
fee, adventure, love,
Form:
Blank verse
a full loss of...'why?'
...be a knot as...
a full loss of 'fee!'
a philosophy be
...to untie...
a 'phi-loss' of 'why'
to fill 'loss of phi' be
...natures growth...
to 'full-awes'...of 'why?'
stans sand
Categories:
fee, art, beauty, growth,
Form:
Free verse
Yesterday did you see,
At no time was I me,
Today I am, I be,
Sanity was my fee.
Yesterday had no goal,
An empty soul,
An overactive brain bowl,
The world smelt foul.
My mind carnal,
Appetite to life brutal,
Everyday a battle,
Daily burst a bubble.
Yesterday held loaded pistol,
Today am not a puzzle,
You and I equal,
View became global.
Christmas is tomorrow,
Forget guns and sorrow,
Only in kindness wallow,
And pride swallow
My road paved with pebbles,
Don’t associate with rebels,
Life has no medals,
Side with angels not devils.
Categories:
fee, world,
Form:
Rhyme
Hazy green hills giving me
a zany thrill. My mind over-
spills with concepts I can’t
comprehend.
The beauty of
the blue sky with shapely
wisps of clouds slowly passing
by. I actually can’t believe my
eyes as a great white feather
appears in the stunning blue sky.
Just like that before my very eyes.
I’m amazed or either in a daze. It
does not matter because for a while
I feel love in this world.
Categories:
how i feel, inspirational,
Form:
If this was any other country, it would make no sense
to discuss with children
what might happen if a gunman enters their classroom
But this is America
Home of the Guns that cost a fee
That take young lives with pride
Assault rifles for you and for me!
May the NRA and the violence live forever
Being a celebrity is worth it; the media is so clever
It’s not New Zealand who knew how to shut it down
Media was only allowed to say “a coward” in every town.
So the teacher thinks of the children first
And she lets them know it is okay to run.
Save yourselves! She tells them. Wanting the best for everyone.
She is in a wheelchair and does not want to slow them down.
We are carrying you! Says the youngest one, sometimes a class clown.
The teacher is stunned, that they have already discussed the possibility.
She has forgotten for a second that we live in the land of the fee.
Where the NRA and big business pays money to be in charge every day.
But she does not live in a senator’s mansion, so what can we say?
This is America, the home of the AK assault rifles.
Where we mow down little children while police wait in a hall.
Not responding to an hour of texts from children who are not four foot tall.
Categories:
fee, violence,
Form:
Political Verse
We never knew She-Fee really. She was our cousin, but
She was banished practically the first time my parents saw her.
Strange my father pronounced almost immediately.
My mother was horrified by her command of adults.
We were drawn to She-Fee for she was full of clever silliness.
She had a monarch on her cheek and a dragonfly followed her.
They are afraid of me, she told us, pointing to our aunt and uncle.
I call them 'Will Do Anything' and "Glad I Am Stupid'.
We were amazed. We had never seen Uncle Will speechless.
He laughed maniacally, because I think he was nervous.
Aunt Gladys ran off crying. Which is how assertive our cousin is.
It was our first visit with her, a two-day trip we never made again.
She was six-years-old at the time, completely in charge of them.
They were her easily manipulated minions, not her gatekeepers.
We had a lovely day or two watching her order them about.
The next time I saw her, was at their funeral.
She came out of the forest to watch us but not really.
She wore a giant rose bud teacup on her head, hiding her eyes.
Deer and a squirrel followed her. I was delighted, remembering her.
She waved without lifting the cup,
Then went back into the forest.
Obviously, she had new subjects to command.
Categories:
fee, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Light Verse
La FEE VERTE
One of those muggy summer evenings in New Orleans– the heat, my god, the heat! The air almost stifling– humidity so high the damp clung to your shoulders and you felt you were walking through a sack of wet clothes! I’d come to a party in one of those dark shabby little streets that cling to the edges of the Quarter– off Poydras, I think it was– in somebody’s house– I can’t remember who or if I ever knew– just an uninvited guest, a friend of a friend, but they were nice enough to let me in and make me comfortable. I found myself in a big stuffed chair in a foyer off the main room where the party was going on– not knowing how to join in right away, I listened to the voices and laughter, the music, and saw people passing the door. In this foyer there was a painting on the wall– a man standing between two chairs where a couple of pretty women were sitting, all of them looking out at the viewer with odd little smiles. Then somebody came into the room behind me and handed me a drink. The drink, in a tall glass was yellow-green– an opalescent cloud floated within. I sampled it– a bitter taste at first– I recoiled, then tried again– an overpowering aroma of anise and– something else– sugar-taste somewhere– my head befuddled and a curious softness on the tongue, a burn in the gut. Then– quite suddenly– a sharp taste that seemed to awaken the senses in my throat and satisfy me beyond my expectations. I had another swallow and– greedy– gulped the rest of the drink down and looked around for more. And at that moment, the man in the painting got down and left the room.
Categories:
fee, angst, appreciation, character, culture,
Form:
Prose Poetry