Best Felicia Poems
FELICIA (dedicated to the efforts of all on the HIV/AIDS scourge)
Rapturous ecstasy emanates from the town
Everyone, everywhere spoke of this damsel
She has just newly packed into town
Gossips could be seen around in their clusters:
"Who is she and where is she from?"
More to that, like a magnetic attraction
Felicia draws the attention of residents to herself
Wives are holding tight to their husbands;
The surely of Felicia is surely a threat.
Not even with her skimpy skirts and dresses
Felicia cuts the image of an angel
With her flawless grammar and sense of humour
The bulge of her regions make lookers apopletic
Her steps typify the menacing walk of a cat
She has all it takes for men to turn around
Society people want to have a taste of her
Women desire her to boost their ego
The mighty, the influential and intellectual inclusive
A King once offered her half of his kingdom
A Governor dangled a mouth-watering contract
A Vice Chancellor even offered her 'Medicine Admission'
Felicia suddenly became cheap and accessible
Initial ego and applause faded into thin air
She went up for the Goliaths to chew,
She came down for the crawling to lick.
She offered her body, a ransom for all
Promiscous men were happy to have their fill
Gloom, sorrow and tears soon pervaded the town
The toll of death was rising by the day
Surviving men depict postures of 'Somalian famine'
Their blood almost drained to the marrows
There was a peculiarity in their deaths
Only those who pitched tents with Felicia are victims
Soon the mist began to clear
I then could see beyond the ordinary
I'd ransacked every material available for clarity
The word of knowledge then came from ABOVE
The second name of FELICIA is AIDS
(c) WP May 1999
When they couldn't sedate me
And needed to cut strips of flesh
From my eyelid, I heard the sizzle
Smelled the scalpel burning as it sliced
And glimpsed the steam rising
Through a peephole under the
Sterile towel tent covering my face
Flesh harvested from my eyelid
grafted into the cavern under my eye
Pit left from digging the cancer filled
One hundred and twenty three tiny stitches later
an ice bag tapped to my head with a warning
it would hurt like hell when the Lidocaine died
I lied-I was going back to my hotel
And on that dark highway in the pouring rain
I could see well enough with one eye
Until sixty miles west on I-80
Burning hot all consuming hell, stabbing, sharp, wish I were dead
Pulled over into aq Wendover casino
To kill the pain
When I'm drinking and gambling, life doesn't hurt.
Faded away until it really wasn't there
Enough to sober up, get back in my truck
Poorer than I was--but money
Never made me happy.
You did
My emergency contact.
My ride home
Pathetic that this is your poem
You are not a bad person.
You gave yourself away.
You took yourself back.
And that's alright
I take me back, too
And like that, there's no emergency contact
No one to drive me home
And I wish you had a better poem
Than this...
I'm-hurt-you-should-feel-sorry-for-me
and my wounded heart
Attempt to what?
Get you back? Hell-no
Don't know what you were, or why
But you had to be removed
Just like the cancer in my eye--you had to go
It's not pretty and leaves a big hole
That some other part of me must fill
It's uncomfortable
And it hurts
Yeah...
and there's nobody to drive me home
But I've been through worse
I'm happy to turn the page
If there's something better for you
There's something better for me
Something better than this
Pain management poem.
That you will never read, but somehow
Makes me feel better
Adios, Felicia
Good Morning Grandma.
It really was a hitch free journey
between a tumultuous earth,
and a refreshing dawn
in a glamorous
celestial city.
Conveyed in honour,
on eternity's ship,
in the midst of a flotilla,
each by angels maneuvered.
I do sincerely congratulate you
for your new found bliss.
And as you merry in your
world of paradisation,
be sure to plead our cause
before His Majesty divine.
This architectural frame upon your mortal hue
Testifies God’s perfection and generosity in creation
These compartments of yours that dazzle the eye
Are autographs that you are far above angelic beauty
Radiant queen among mortals, adorned in attire that beckons angels
Like the fallen giants who lost heaven in pursuit of the daughters of men
Not even the devout priest with his pious sermons and asceticism is extricated from this trial
The maker’s brush made a lasting touch on every part and the art endures
Your eyes gleam like the morning star, perfectly nestled in their sockets
In the invention of lust and glamour;
The curvature of your breast is like the succulent apple,
Happily, and adeptly knit in size to fit the palm
Erected in the direction calling attention
O merciful God!
You have created both peace and trouble in one frame.
Felicia!
The goddess of beauty!
Your oval hips and the convexity of the buttocks
Are textures marvellously defining these straight and unblemished legs
Isn’t God’s craftsmanship wonderful?
Oh, God have mercy!
Your loved son is about going to the gallows
Dying inward in glorification of your architectural masterpiece
These visible and terrible stripes tickle emotion
The veiled might be homely as I craved closer;
Though they are both in one
By much closeness the devil is made manifest.
Beautiful Felicia!
As much as your beauty allures, your character repels
The latter is stronger,
But the former is dust
These are my idle contemplations.
Haunted by the image of her whimsical look.Her eyes mirror into my soul.As she can tell my
every thought.Her cream colored skin smells of sandal rose and jasmine.She touches her
fuchsia lips as an inviting conquest of affection.Still,her innocence embodies a life
unwritten.I have seen an angel in my subconscious. For the Tell her Story contest.........A Constance La' France-A Rambling Poet-Contest
Oh, my boyfriend-on-demand
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of mountain dew.
As my fists fall from its grip, I am reminded of your squirmy nerdy body.
In the hushed, I listen for the last sounds of pee missing the toilet.
My heated Mad Face breathes inside my hardened soul.
I wait in the kitchen for your Ugly Head so that we may break up as one, Mad Face to Mad Face; in search of the glorious breakup, it's almost sensual saying the final goodbye of love.
Felicia the fox feeder became a mother of five
When their sainted fox mother was no longer alive
Their mother’s spirit sat in the trees and watched Felicia though
Thrilled she treated her kits with love that continued to grow
She was Felicia’s spirit animal from that moment until forever.
When did she abandon her? Never, and I mean never.