Best Flounce Poems
Ash - grey chemised
she shifts her shape
as silver flakes float coat
stripped naked places,
sheath curves and angled spaces
Angry glitter tingle stings
thick earth skin with prickly flames
and rumble rise regurgitates
shimmy - shake shudders
in magma's deep thrombosis.
Her feather boa plume
tightens hot cloud chokehold,
acrid smoke flung up in air
without a care, heat exhumes
her arrival, announced fiery flounce -
Hot air blast flicks ash everywhere
Grande dame, her vital force runs hot,
and bold, red and gold- full blooded flow,
feisty fight to escape fate,
inner pulses push a violent urge
to bleed and drape red lava's cape
across green fields, human habitations
Unplacated, rising up, proud impairment
anger virulent, out of hellbent
immolation via pyramidal vent.
She lifts her tiara, red ruby globs,
hurls evidence in defense - great blobs
of royal reign - no abdication!
Throaty roars rend intonation
into screeching supplications -
She knows full well, soon enough,
her phoenix fate infarction
Too late for earth's burst heart
High drama is a living, dying art
Impassioned pleas too late for some,
Earth's burnout buries victims in her wake
High on an island hill,
the boy lay crushed, and still
on temple altar, throat cut, bled out
Hurried offering, did not appease,
nor bring softening release
for angry, ancient mountain
Head caved in by falling blocks
of measured, square cut stone,
the priest grovelled on his knees
Gravel filled their mouths, no space for pleas
No one heard half- whispered final groans
And Earth, once she settled down,
murmured not another sound
Posted 17/08/2018.
How do you feel
when you look to the skies..?
the cumulus inspired your innocent imagination
with playful marshmallow fantasies —
the sun peeked from behind
peony-puffs of airy white
to admire the flounce and frill
of your yellow sundress —
in the morning of your youth
you felt buoyant
by the age of your afternoon
you basked in the warmth of the sun at its peak
golden the glow and short the shadows
though heaped nimbus clouds hugged your horizons..
heavy the rain and hard the hail
as lightning's lance pierced the heart of the day...
your refuge the bold shield of the roof you built —
you felt tried.. but tenderly triumphant!
like a cosmic tear rolled down upon the hills
the paunchy sun puddles on the dark edge of Earth
a last languid look at an old friend
before the spill and burn behind the rim -
the sweep of cirrus serene and cerise
filled with embers of dreams
and prayers and wishes at peace —
in the elder moments of your evening hour
the sun sets as the evening raises its silver torch
how do you feel
when you look to the skies..?
—a satisfied soul smiles
Susan Ashley
January 23, 2023
~ Fifth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Contest NO 1180
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: How Do You Feel
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Necessarily to Samora
On the stream, a cork was thrown
She sank in
She tripped on
She was picked up
A beach, a wave and a sailing ship don’t matter.
You will arrive at the time of coming back.
-Faceless towards passion-
When the dawn was agonized, morning came
I’d be dreaming my dream
The delusion of paddling the sea of love without safety
That passing by valley slits the front of my house
Brings and takes water -don’t you mind giving me a cup!-
This instant…
Domesticated with pain
Your loyalty is vital and you are well-worn
Imagine you
Laying nearby in others snaky arms
The arms that shot my heart
---it shaded lights on more beats
Instead of the distance
Gone astray is not at ease. With the wind and with the wind
This instant…
Time struggle against time
As you smoulder my mind's eye into a fantasy
Days are nights and the same line of attack, sub- stories
Why reddish rose in my hand as you are all roses
I obey the truth; I’m only irritating other’s plant
I gain the fragrant of my tiredness –walking on by-
This instant...
Up above where air outdoes
The reverie is stubbornly standing
I still jump onto the floor preparing a glider for love
Uncut ropes and a silky seat for two birds
Poetess is my bird on shoulder, in veins and between bones
This instant…
Underneath the last sparkling star thinking and gazing
Into things that have been my own
That will never be my own.
Getting back to the memories
Swimming in an endless pool of images and words
Quenching the desire of missing, just somehow
This instant...
My senses flounce your absence
Your silent acquires me the language battles
---God! A German flight pierced the atmosphere
Shelled many wild birds there as I was only watching the scenes
This instant...
The valley’s slit leaves a border line
Face on the pane; I steal glimpses
Wiping away tears by sunny bar entity
Hanging on someone to bring me gathered drops
Steadfast-
“No more than one” I say to heaven-
She Dances in Her Blue Dress
She stands beneath shimmering clear soft lights
in subtle beauteous of elegance.
A faint glimmer sparks in her eyes ignites
an idyllic aura anxious to dance.
She wears a flattering blue amorous
of the shoulder, flounce sleeves, body-con dress.
Adorned honey ankle strap, glamorous
rhinestone high heels; to show off and impress.
With the sway of her sexy hips moving
She shimmies to the drum beat and fast rhythm
leaving behind Chanel glance enthralling
fragrant in the crowded room dazzling them.
As she turns, walks away in her blue dress
Her honey skin purrs with weather's caress.
12/28/2019
Poetry Contest: Blue Dress
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausin
A basket ball player with bounce
Said, “All my opponents I'll trounce.”
But thanks to a gale
He fell on his tail,
And off in a huff he'd to flounce!
*Author's note
Cute fun poem instead of my usual serious stuff. I've been told that this was more of a Iambic style poem by a friend that helped to add a few words here and there to make the poem flow more. If I'm mistaken, then please tell me the correct form that my poem is. Anyways, Enjoy :)
Fluffy kitty,
Sleepy kitty,
Little ball of fur;
Patting gently,
Scritching softly,
Listen to the purr.
Dangle string and
Watch it swing,
See the kitty sway;
Eyes will follow,
Mind goes hollow,
Focused on its prey.
Feel legs bunch and
Muscles coil,
See the kitty pounce;
She stands aloof,
With string in mouth,
Oh, that prideful flounce!
Always wear thongs when you’re fifty
and let those buttocks bounce
Don’t give a jot ‘bout your wobbly bot
Just flounce that extra ounce
No twin-set and pearls
nor hair in tight curls
just denim and boots
And disguising your roots
Not growing older
Just bigger
And bolder
Keep a smile on your face
And grow old in dis-grace!
I watch you prancing, pawing earth;
your eyes glow almost like a flame,
you toss your sculptured head so freely
and flounce, unchecked your flowing mane.
Born brother to the rolling prairies,
your spirit kin to earth's four winds,
I gaze at you and vainly wonder:
do you know how truly we are friends?
Do you know that deep within me
dwells a soul loving liberty
and a heart that yearns and hungers
to run as you do, wild and free?
Have you noticed I am a dreamer,
that my eyes see visions, bright,
and my spirit flies within me
a prancing, pawing steed of light.
Faye Gibson
Copyright, May 18, 2014
Ticket booth requests destination
manually I type your name,
a mathematical equation
couldn't convince me to abstain,
Catching despair in my reflection
streetlights flounce, dreary windowpanes
tracking raindrops with affection,
pining for your embrace, once again
Traveling express train to heaven
station platforms, fleeting by
mimicking photographs in my mind,
camera rolls, flicker the sky
Can pine cones actually predict how harsh winter will be?
If a harsh winter is on the way, pine trees create more pine cones.Thinking if squirrels & birds share their opinion on the coming season, they will collect more pine seeds & stock up ahead of time
Atop a decorative table a basket of pinecones sit festive and clean
No resin to speak of no brittle edge left, from the forest of dreams
A little girl with a tub full of glue stickied and sparkled until two
Til' a pinecone flew out of the pile and yelled, "Tell me, what is new! "
They talked for a while then, she hopped into bed;
Santa arrives with a jolly old bounce, leaving a doll with a flounce
Down in the valley the lumberjacks cut, but up in the Country their sought
Thank God for the pinecones that talk and for those that do not
Its gonna be a long cold winter so "wear your winter mitts"
says the pinecone to a Jolly Santa, who jiggles and jangles
then laughs with a tickling fit...
Atop a decoartive table the pinecones arranged all with shine,
ready for a Christmas of love, that arrives just on time.
Image of Free Heart And Love by Pixabay.
Continuance
Climbing waves crept ashore and stole our footsteps
yet prints went aslant, surrendered none to our
unbroken hearts in bottled notes cast adrift
~~boundless praised afar
Country road, a bit bumpy, grassy, pressed ground
yet spontaneous passion stays eternal
matching close limitless decorative spread
~~tough and tamed amour
Curtains flounce in the wake of teasing zephyrs
yet our infinite spirits perpetuates
as the energies overwhelm and control
~~our love is endless
Chaotic episodes choke in riddled voids
worthless babble festers o'er empty pages
yet unsung strength fills the bottomless inkwell
~~unwavering writes
Coins flick to the bottom of a wishing well
ere sparkles, hopes hang on first in the night sky
candles on cakes, wishbone breaks, touch blue come true,
~~us everlasting
2021 June 04
*1st Place*
All Yours (June 14)
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 June 13
*2nd Place*
Writing Prompt - Endless
~~Constance La France: Judged 2021 June 13
Well I declare!
Gawd, did you hear
the minister just
dyed his hair,
a reddish tint
with purple streaks
to match his flowered
untied “sneaks”.
I do declare!
I saw him there
buying thong-style
underwear,
to match the
tightly binding jeans
that held him in
with bulging seams.,
caressing every
part of him
Dear Gawd, it’s
got to be a sin.
Saw him wiggle,
dance and sway
in a most peculiar way.
Purse his lips
now pearly red
flounce his hair,
toss his head.
I fear he’ll lead us
into hell
at the next ringing
of the bell,
but I must follow him
you see
from aisle 6
seat twenty three.
But I declare,
he’s looking fine
and dancing
in A Chorus Line for
He became
a “sistered” brother
played his part
to help another.
Shook the rafters,
wooed the crowd
made the humble
roaring proud.
Said to those
with faces set:
“I never
should have took
that bet.”
APPLAUSE
CURTAIN CALL
WELL I DECLARE!!!!
John G. Lawless
for Well I Declare! Poetry contest
sponsor Judy Konos
Beside the bar I nursed my drink, depression was my food,
she entered like the World's first dawn and cut straight through my mood.
Her dress a silky vortex, skirt was flowing, bodice tight,
the flounce swayed with an ebb and flow like scarlet Northern lights.
Looks crafted to bewilder, eyes dishonest, smile was kind,
she knew that I was curious, and had somehow read my mind.
Cocktail cherry on her lips, a prop to tantalize,
I took the plunge, sat next to her and gazed into her eyes.
A deep breath, with my fingers crossed, I asked “Are you alone?”
Too late, I realised I'd stepped into her killing zone.
A brief appraisal, up and down, and then she laughed out loud,
which brought the curtain down on conversations in the crowd.
Head down, red faced, I turned and walked a dignified retreat,
to find a booth in shadow, where I meekly took a seat.
This dark art she must practise, as she'd pulled off quite a coup
to eviscerate my pride and ego, all in one fell swoop.
Fallacious my long held belief, now well and truly sunk
that I'm a real lady's man, but only when I'm drunk.
For contest 'eight word challenge', sponsor John Hamilton
28th June 2018
The Ginko's golden leaves rustle
Tickled by easterly bustle
Flounce upon the straight limbs
So like a flirty lady dressed
In her long golden gown her best
Permanence or fun her whims
Sponsor: Black Eyed Susan
Contest: Your Favorite Tail Rhyme, Past or Present
Written: Friday November 16, 2012
========== O
Monday night. Moving magazines. Aimed dead at killing an evening, my fingers target =========
These same old four buttons; >.
1, 2, 3, 4. Five’s a pipedream. Gaudy, small-minded and trapped in affected Americana.
Just like whatever the hell this is. Too much smiling.
====== > Diseases. An old man’s mouldy cock. Right there, mid-screen. Mid-bite, I choke,
as they mumble about vulvas
======== > A dog rolls in a mound of white paper. Whimpering at the softest **** tickle.
Like his little tongue? He’s running! With T.P! The Hilarity! Ho ho
======= > A mother and daughter swing together on a sunny day. One is singing like a
xylophone. They bond across a yoghurt.
Processed fried chicken cracked open with a wry smile and a twinkle in those white, white
eyes
======= A familiar street, full of families too awful to hate. Bald men stomp, cheeky
guy’s grin, heart throb’s pulsate. Young filly’s flounce, old hag’s huddle and all moan
mournfully. Other’s pass in between, and outside of, the broad spectrum of emotional
alliteration and post-modern punctuation without so much as a smile ==== >
Kevin Bacon and Kyr =========== > Michael Dougl
========= > Widescreen TV’s at my fifteen inch window
========= > A man with a silly haircut, waving a knife at a pepper with intent
========= Women in windows waving enhanced monstrosities at the wanking and eager.
Tittilitation for the text buck, a half-filled screen of despair. Tribute to the madness
that grips young men through the night
========= > Still, writing this keeps me sane. More sadness
======= > More sales
============ > ============= >
============
That’s a thought.
These images do not create ======== O