Best Flouncy Poems
Fantasy sold on a 50’s bottle cap;
a party-girl side-saddle sits
on a double-edged crescent moon
up high —a silver scythe in glamour-night-sky
corners of her cherry mouth tilted up
her left hand raises her glass a toast to the stars
frothy head of champagne-beer flirts
with lips spooning the rim
right hand holds the bottle instead of reality
look! no hands on a razor’s edge
precarious hilarious
a redhead with bouncy-curls and a flouncy-skirt
boot-heels over head when she laughs and Oops! falls
clouds catch her without friction and pillow her fiction head ~
but you with wild escapade eyes fell hard
fell
hard
far beyond Earth with not a soft cloud to cushion you
glam-allure just a sexy lore a filthy lure
but once you’ve been star-dusted and angel-dusted
it’s all the same…
vintage Miller bottle cap
a perfect circle like the fattened moon face
leering through broken windows
shards glitter the floor like fallen constellations
your black pearl eyes two muddy puddles
life drained through rows of tiny needle holes
slip-knot above your elbow just tight enough
your pulse beats its fist against the restraint
—pounding —pounding —pounding
impatient to be bled and fed
you and this dragon’s den a dilapidated pair
abandoned and without family
you share the blank stare of broken windows
veins collapsed like crumbled staircases —
empty inside of empathy and dreams..
a junkie’s spot where shooting stars crash
embers in your bloodstream turn to dust
— you cook in a rusted bottle cap by candlelight
candle’s glow your Sun in a dirty universe
with your teeth you pull back on the syringe
this house unused by the living a cold corpse
but in the warm rush of your skin’s flush
your gaunt gray body melts like hot wax
pale horsehair walls a slouchy silent witness
... your soul escapes as it scrapes across the floor
flurries sneak through broken windows
whirl of wind whistles on its rounds like a jailhouse guard
rattling beam-bones jangling ghost-bones —
user-litter kicked around like a pile of old brown leaves
burnt fingertips and a junky "High Life" bottle cap
all you have left
Categories:
flouncy, abuse, addiction, drug, lost,
Form:
Free verse
DESSERT TABLE
Yes, it’s a beautiful spread
A tantalizing sight
With not Cezanne depth or solidity, but
Our hostess’ fond delight
She’s gathered not justs -
Not just cakes, cheeses and fruit
But a famous pot of snowball flowers,
A tall bottle of ultra-expensive wine, to boot
Now witness her many noted guests
Completely sated, become indecorous, loud,
A regular old-times gathering –
This flouncy, pot bellied, gut roaring crowd
And there are eager eyes, thrust noses
The sober might spy
Peering through banister slats, through cigar smoke.
For just one taste they would die
A wedge from an extant white, coconut cake,
Circus of green wrapped sweets,
Strawberry shortcake, cheesecake
An invitation what they seek
I fear, though, this luxury shall go elsewhere
The pastries, cheeses, fruits gathered all,
The youngsters, discovered, sent off to bed,
And cookie, chauffeur and butler shall have themselves a ball
Categories:
flouncy, life,
Form:
Free verse
Spelling, syllable count, vanity, too simple, Simon! Be prolific, cruel, smart, up to par, above the bar, fit for the stage. Tap, tap, tap…
—by poet
The Prismatic Self
See the wooden stage, markers for my feet, bright lights, great expectations, critical analysis. Curtains will open any minute as my words make an entrance. Will my opening lyrics draw a crowd? Who will be in attendance? The theater’s not likely sold out.
Backstage, the sponsors, who are they? ATTENTION! As if a teacher wields a pointer, tapping at my feet. Will the audience throw erasers?
On the palm of my hand, the rules - perhaps strict, but I’m not in fear of a stickler. Trained by the nuns in love and hate knuckles.*
Lots of rules, I might have to practice the act for quite a bit longer. I practice in my dressing room, trying on outfit after outfit - those flouncy forms or something simple and succinct.
Am I a people pleaser? Do I perform at the pleasure of the King or Queen? Or am I my own worst critic?
Yes! Yes! Yes! No!
I desire to be seen but I will yield. There is something more important than being the lead. Still, I must confess, I must run back to my little box, mime my tears, dread my limitations, take a breath and when I am ready - take a bow.
At the onset, I must build my own backdrop, backstory, be vague and understood. I run my lines quickly, slowly, go over them again and again, even as I recite them freely, as a monoku or Shakespearian sonnet; or get even more elaborate.
I labor over each word, its placement, its meaning. I don’t care! I do care! I must feel it practically perfect; though I will let it go. Eventually, it will be a comedy of errors, erroneously erupting past the stage, in the rubber hands of cause and effect. The sponsor’s Marlboro ashes fall on it, without understanding my heartfelt meaning; my wings clipped as I await the list…the dreaded and dreadful list. Most surprised when I am the cream, alone - floating at the top.
**Fastbreast, blushing, aghast, euphoric. That sponsor is exact. I do not grow prideful. I do glow. The tip of the iceberg shows, all other words sunken, below. In leotards, the ships pass by, having a look - one clips itself.
*conceit
**Fastbreast - heart beating rapidly (Neologism)
Categories:
flouncy, angst, confidence, introspection, writing,
Form:
Free verse
Way back in the nineteen fifties
When Charlie grew out of his toys,
He fancied having an active life
So he joined the Teddy Boys.
He wore drainpipe jeans, a black drape coat
And a shirt with a boot lace tie.
With his crepe-soled shoes and slicked back hair
He definitely caught your eye.
It wasn’t unusual to find him
With a flick-knife in his hand, though
This wasn’t quite what he wanted but
He pretended to make a stand.
Young Charlie was more of a lover
With a record of amorous feats,
And rather than hurting people,
He preferred slashing cinema seats.
So when he began seeing Doreen
Spending Friday night on the town,
He took her to the local flea-pit
Where they cheered when the film broke down.
Now Doreen had plans to catch Charlie,
Dressed to kill she just couldn’t fail,
With stiletto heels and flouncy skirts
And her hair in a pony-tail.
Poor Charlie just couldn’t resist her
And finally asked her to wed.
He bought a stylish suit and proper shoes,
He’d grown out of being a Ted.
In marital bliss some time later
He thought of the freedom he’d had,
With his Teddy Boy suit now in mothballs
He felt that life wasn’t too bad.
With Doreen he’d found some contentment
But thoughts whirled around in his brain,
Growing up had left some resentment
And he wished he could be young again.
Categories:
flouncy, humorous, nostalgia,
Form:
Light Verse
I write this bouncy little tune
With a flouncy ickle fume
My poems are the best
In the world
I rock the planet more than
Mountains and hills
Indeed, I am orf me rock
Except for sulphur dioxide
Volcanoes erupted in Washington
So did a drug culture
I nearly forgot what an excellent poem
Writer that I am
Insane, yes
Real, no
The bells won't stop ringing
In the church
Flow chart, box chart
Insane brain chart
Money, by golly
I'm rich
Lottery money, the dough just rises and rises
Carbon Dioxide
Lovely summer, autumn and winter
Ahhhhh memories of home
Enjoy
Categories:
flouncy, childhood, happiness, hope, imagination,
Form:
Bio
A fat flouncy funky flunky house sparrow bobs and bows his way tacking like a clinker built
dingy sailing across our sea of grass catching worms fattened by May's sun and showers .
Categories:
flouncy, bird,
Form:
Free verse
Flimsy, flouncy little nightie
Which doth cling e'er so tightly
To your wibbly, wobbly ****
And your smelly hairy bits
Keeping all just out of sight
Through the hours of the night
Covering things so unsightly
Thank god for that little nightie
[written many, many years ago & inspired by a poem called something like "Dear Flo". Which I think was either by Spike Milligan or Peter Cook/Dudley Moore]
Categories:
flouncy, silly,
Form:
Light Verse
blooms
bouncy
baby’s breath
busy bee balm
ritzy rose, glitzy gloxinia
zany zinnia, dear ditzy daisy
swanky saffron
flouncy phlox
bonnie
buds
Categories:
flouncy, beauty, environment, flower, nature,
Form:
Tetractys
The sky blue velvet
And my dress red satin
Your kiss was splendid
Made me madden
Crystal green eyes
Darling grandmother pearls
Underneath painted skies
Hair flouncy twirls
Divine designer gowns
Prance about the room
On my head a crown
My arm accompanied a groom
A fairytale you shall always be
Equipped with lush memories
Diamonds that sparkle blue sea
A queen of love for centuries
Categories:
flouncy, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Ending in a flouncy ruffle, I married in a brown crushed velvet dress
This was 1971. Only six people were there, maybe one less.
My groom was nervous, I had sweet talked him into eloping with me.
I was confident this was the way God meant our wedding to be.
This was our second try at finding a justice of the peace.
My husband’s pants were ironed into a straight down middle crease.
He had a big hunk of dark hair that fell across his left hazel eye.
I believe I heard a secretary give a little sigh.
These people had tried to talk us out of this quickie wedding.
Strangers to us, they had a deputy give a little sing.
This was during the awful horrible Vietnam War you realize.
My groom was number thirty-eight in the draft, danger could arise.
We have been married fifty years, so things worked out rather well.
My husband never had to serve in swamps of that foreign hell.
He always says that I looked beautiful on our wedding day.
When I look at him, he is nineteen. What could be better anyway?
Categories:
flouncy, wedding,
Form:
Prose
My soft panda, you inspire me to write. Indian Summer
How I love the way you call, walk and sleep,
Invading my mind day and through the night, In midst of summer
Always dreaming about the bouncy peep.
You dance away tapping feet
Let me compare you to a quiet pie? Indecent proposal
You are more mortal, yellow and clever.
Light drought dries the old picnics of July, Indifferent disposal
How do I love you? Winter's swing.
I love your feet and personality.
Thinking of your dear fingers fills my days.
My love for you is the partiality your cute ways
Now I must sway with a flouncy heart, Indian Summer
Remember my calm words whilst we're apart In midst of summer
2/2/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2023©
Categories:
flouncy, analogy, appreciation, friendship love,
Form:
Sonnet
I want to write a pleasant sonnet
But the words became a nonnet
I Put on a flouncy bonnet
And walked across a comet
Tomorrow I will try again if I'm not a nurse
To write a pleasant flowing verse
I'll try REAL hard with morals high and n'er a curse
Pen to this paper think, think, think until they call the hearse
Give me more creative times, time infinity
Hard life and hard times will roll on by; giving clarity
Pen not heads will roll across the paper with fluidity
Life times and unexpected tuck and rolls are fodder for creativity
I want to write a silly sonnet....
With fancy pen strokes on it
Categories:
flouncy, on writing and wordswrite,
Form:
Light Verse
Sunday was patent leather shoes, white anklets with lace
Starchy petticoats, flouncy lavender dresses with huge bows in the back.
Sunday was Sunday School, where everyone in the church knew us.
Singing so loudly in the pew during church our mother was shushing us.
Sunday was roast beef and potatoes with chocolate or lemon meringue pie.
Sunday was a day for Daddy to stay home all day, show us his sense of humor.
We looked forward to this day all week long; it was almost our favorite day.
It would have been our very favorite if Saturday had not been cartoon day.
Sunday was singing along with The Lennon Sisters,
Sunday was singing along with Mitch Miller
Sunday was eating homemade donuts and popcorn for supper.
Childhood Sunday memories make me smile to this day,
Fifty years since I had one of those childhood Sundays.
Categories:
flouncy, memory, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
when it comes down to it
round to it
flouncy-knickered
frown to it
no mo
feels real
good
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
yepperooni
Categories:
flouncy, happiness,
Form:
Lyric
Ode my Deer
My special deer, you jump so high in air flight.
So I love the way you fly, soar and run,
Invading my mind days and through the night,
Always dreaming about falls bright red sun.
Let me compare you to a dove ember?
You are more gentle, flouncy and bouncy.
Kind fogs hides in rotten forest timbers
as autumn time has you frightful raunchy.
Look out hunters comes to kill wounding ways.
Love I your delightful eyes, hooves and fur.
Thinking of your timid grace fills my days.
My love for you is the spiteful inter.
Now I must away with a mental heart,
Remember your leaps of joy whilst we're part.
1/9/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
Categories:
flouncy, adventure, analogy, animal, appreciation,
Form:
Sonnet