Best Gams Poems
Word Quintet in C Major
By Stark Hunter
Open the door my friend,
Climb on in,
Join me here in this relentless caravan,
This unstoppable, this incontrovertible,
this inexorable movement,
To the depths of the dry gulf.
Join me here my friend,
In this annihilating armada,
This incontrovertible migration,
This inexorable swarm
To the watery crossroads of the dry places,
To the liquid asphalt of insipid time!
I stare at you from across the room here.
I stare and gawk and hawk at you,
And I feel the pelting rain of desire.
You look good over there, sitting
With beautiful gleaming crossed legs.
“Sorry, beg your pardon,
I say, but have we not met before?
Did we not share beers on the Terrace of Tyre
At sunset?
Did we not tell each other stories,
Old stories of love and betrayal and heartbreak?
At sunset?
Did we not look away from each other,
When stories of new love suddenly emerged,
As with a new sunrise?”
My friend, there is no
Escape from this throbbing hole, no
Escape from this cold numbing wind,
This whirlingly insane wind
Of cold blasts of killing ice.
And I ride here
Ride like a sweating Sultan,
Astride the mighty beast of Tyre!
Perched high in rich raiment,
I wave to the multitudes
I send a salute to the throng!
I ride shotgun here
Ride nice and easy
Like a tanning garçon on his off day,
Like a sitting trog waiting wistfully,
Waiting waiting for gams not intended for him.
My friend, the world turns and turns,
It turns today and tomorrow,
It will turn as the river turns in spring,
It will turn as a woman’s heart turns,
When eyes that once stared ahead, now look away.
It will turn my friends because it has to!
Riding, Riding, Riding….
Downhill now! The insane wind
Assaults me. Harasses me. Accosts me.
It presses its loose lips upon my face,
It seeks the mad blood of passion!
“Let us calm ourselves
Reassure ourselves
That all is right and as planned.
Let us all look at one another!
Let us all nod in agreement!
The days ahead will manifest themselves,
Transfigure themselves,
As blooms upon the water lilies.
Categories:
gams, desire,
Form:
Blank verse
Splatter painted, Pollock blessed, leggy I stand,
among the green grass and healing Plantain
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
A walking canvas in the meadowland
stems, humorously stippled to entertain
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand.
Blush brushed by daylight, a cheeky garland;
a stand bloomed within thin skinned constraints
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
Pistils between petals unknown unplanned,
joyous the sound of honey bees restrained,
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand.
A plantigrade intrusion, a new brand
surface mounted digits adorned prearranged
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
So bright the upright parts, so very grand
one can but dream the crown gloriously manned
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
Mused: Bella online Literary Review Winter 2015
Categories:
gams, allegory, art, childhood,
Form:
Terzanelle
Aunt Ruthie used to sing and dance
a jolly way to find romance
she said one thing that you should know
“The legs are last to go”
“The legs are last to go”
She’d sing her praises right out loud
and wear her stockings high and proud
she still had much that she could show
The legs are last to go
The years roll by and beauty fades
and yet her gams, she still parades
she’s 83 and don’t cha know
her legs were last to go
Her legs were last to go
Categories:
gams, family, fun, humorous, life,
Form:
Rhyme
I may be all wet, but I sure ain't no bluenose!
And, while it's none of my beeswax,
Let's have a bull session-lesson !
Take a gander around, and tell the guy with the cheaters
I'll give him an ear-full, if he'll just hang around
There's a gatecrasher here..., I heard, on the level
He's zozzled on hooch, a big lollygagger!
He staggered in blotto, with a ciggy on his lips
Sipping on bootleg, and lookin' for whoopee!
He's the fall guy, (I've heard), for a weird, double cross
Here comes the hoofer, the one with the gams
That vamp is a pushover, a gun- moll, man chaser
A real hotsy-totsy!, she dresses real spiffy
Her toy is a shiv, she's the Jane, Real McCoy,
makes a sap out of guys, who carry a torch
Bumps them off, on their own front porch !
And that's the "Big Cheese", who runs the speakeasy
He thinks he's high hat, but is full of baloney
He gives all the dames, the real "heebie-jeebies"
Just a poor drug-store cowboy... filled with nothin' but hooey
Hard-boiled. they come, gold-diggers and hoods
I've been beating my gums, and I'm dying of thirst
This is the berries, been the real bees knees!
Oh, it has been swell, while chewing the fat!
But, facts are the facts, on the up and up
Well, bye, Buttercup,......the jig is up
I'm serious Sam, in a serious jam
The truth of the matter is, that I'm on the lam
You don't know for nothin', stay out of a pickle !...
Remember my friend, don't take wooden nickels !!
______________________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: Talk The Talk, Walk The Walk (1920's Slang)
6/14/15
Categories:
gams, funny, people, drug,
Form:
Free verse
dang,
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
killer-diller
khaki wacky boycrazygirl
a spiffy hot damn hoofer
during the dark hours of WWII
and the devastation
followed with
unrestrainedjubibilation
beat me daddy eight to the bar
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
franksinatracrooner
singing grandma put on her stompers
she was a babydoll soppysappysharp
a spiffy hot damn hoofer
worked in a factory
building partsforairplanes for the boys
no siree bob she was not giving up her job
she had
dreams
a white picket fence
in the
boondocks
grandma was-
a spiffy
hot damn
hoofer
no gobbledygook she told great stories
of what it was like
after the war forthetroops and all
pin-up girls like Marilyn Munroe
Elvis
Roy Orbison
Jerry Lee Lewis
drive-ins
fancy wheels ovaltine
casablanca goingmyway its a wonderful life
for whom the bell tolls earnesthemmingway
it was a time of attitude
no fuddy-duddy she had the gams
met grandpa doingtheswing
they had no lettuce moolah greenbacks
but they
were over the top
stuck on glued
bonkers in love oh grandma had
no fear of saying hi-de-ho
he said hey sugar are you rationed
dang
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
killer-diller
kacky wacky boycrazygirl
take a gander withyourpeepers
at this thingamabob poem
____________________________________
June 2, 2015
Free Verse
Inspired by the slang of the 1940's
For the contest, Talk the Talk and Walk the Walk, sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
First Place
Categories:
gams, grandparents, history, word play,
Form:
Free verse
Talk the Talk and Walk the Walk
Know Your Onions
Hey there Big Cheese
I think you are the bee’s knees
Not a bluenose or a flat tire,
But, ooh hardboiled & too Oliver Twist to resist
Let us skip the youths' rub & head far removed from the petting pantry
Share a jorum of skee at the local speakeasy
Now we are on the trolley!
Let us slowly ankle to the joint
I’m a copasetic-bearcat
Watch my gams, catch my point?
Oh hepcat I’ll get your handcuff or
This darb Sheba’s bank is closed for someone else
Butt me, you spiffy sheik
Cuz I’m stuck on you bimbo
Unleash
Know your onions & manacle this
Choice bit of calico,
You know you can’t resist
Then and then only will you wield me to your struggle buggy and
We’ll be jake!
The cat's pajamas!!
Berries!
Sunshine Williams
1920’s Slang
Categories:
gams, boyfriend, cool, funny, history,
Form:
Free verse
Tina-Louise dashed into a tattoo parlor
And asked for some ink in the shape of a flower.
Much below the knees so my mom doesn’t holler;
Would you hurry-up please, I’ve only one hour.
Seeing as that flower was never discovered,
Tina-Louise went back in for another.
And this time she preferred it higher to cover
A birth mark she wanted to hide from a lover
Since it turned winter, others were oblivious,
So each new tattoo became insidious.
As her pants concealed the vividly obvious,
This fact let Tina to be more devious.
Then before spring, Tina-Louise met a good man
Who was employed at emptying garbage cans.
In no time she had a diamond ring on her hands,
And a tattoo of “Stu” high up on her gams.
Tina-Louise’s belly started projecting
Because of the baby she was expecting.
And it mattered not that her Stu was objecting
To the art of ink that she wasn’t neglecting.
Even Tina-Louise’s gynecologist
Chattered on like a wannabe psychologist.
Saying stop with the inking, you need to desist,
And carried on like a show off apologist.
Well, TL’s final tattoo went high on her neck
Of some odd creature from the series, Star Trek.
And poor Stu could barely keep his temper in check
With that mouthful of Clingon he got with a peck.
Tina-Louise’s water finally did break
During delivery, Doc said for goodness sake.
It’s bizarre days like today that take the cake,
For there’s a glitch with your baby that’s a mistake.
The parents were concerned; well wouldn’t you be too?
They thought maybe their baby came out cold blue.
Nope, the shaken Doc said, this is completely new;
Your sweet little baby has a rose bud tattoo!
With one look, Stu fainted onto the sterile floor,
Since this wasn’t the newborn he bargained for.
Then Tina-Louise gave out one last birthing roar
That started and finished with curses galore.
Afterword Tina-Louise sat alone and bawled
Lamenting the curse to her new baby doll.
Why didn’t I listen to my mom at all?
And to all the others who made the right call?
TL and Stu’s baby now has beautiful skin
Thanks to the marvels of modern medicine.
Though Tina-Louise never performed a real sin;
She wished all her tattoos stayed below her shin.
For Juli- Michelle's Rhyme Battle contest 9/29/13
Categories:
gams, angst, birth, mother daughter,
Form:
Rhyme
The representation of the leg
fall too short when compared
to attributes above the waist
or that region of booty fame
gams extending to the foot
both the curves and the straight
attribution of delight
to the review of the eyes
the shapeliness that few deny
when honesty is applied
the delight of verity
only damned by devil’s lies
these edifice of angel’s breadth
recognized by vision’s bliss
defying nature in good jest
with perfection of the leg.
Categories:
gams, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
I love guns!
No. Wait.
Gams.
I meant gams.
I love gams!
Categories:
gams, funny, humor, nonsense, political,
Form:
Burlesque
The honey was very well aware
As she went flitting by
That all the goof-offs hanging out
Were giving her the eye.
She didn’t mind they stole a gander
As she saw them standing there
Admiring her newly shortened skirts
And giving her gams a stare.
As long as she wasn’t a real armpit
And hadn’t been around the block
They would try to out do each other
In cornering her stock.
She knew if a hot dog made a pass
She could hail the black and white
And he would do some small time
In the town joint, over night.
Joyce Johnson 01/12/12 For Craig Cornish’s “Talk That Way” contest.
Won a 3rd in contest
Categories:
gams, funny, nostalgia, giving,
Form:
Rhyme
dance …
dance, the dragon
I watch intently, as if it taunts me
your perfect calf, its tattooed home
gams surround you on the
dance floor like a forest of velvet flesh
hopping, darting, spinning …
the small hummingbird on your
other ankle flutters -
as if in a constant bid to
escape the fire-breathing specter that
clings fiercely to the gentle slope
of your opposite foreleg
golden eyes afire …
I sit this one out
but I'm enthralled by your solo -
unconcerned with the
crowd of couples about you
your slender arms meet like swan necks
entwining in a love rite ...
hips in a forth-and-back cadence -
hypnotizing me as your
ruffled hem swishes … swishes … swishes …
curvilinear body alive with
spicy voltaic motion -
eyes closed to the pounding
prismatic pulse of colored lights and
seething subwoofers …
you move slowly ...
tender and deliberate
yet intense …
innately sensual, though you are unaware
your naive charm and innocence
are the blades that slay me
all the while the dragon chases …
the bird bounces and flits …
and I sip my Milagro Select like a
long-forgotten lover -
dreaming of the perfectly plump
pink-painted piggies ...
wriggling playfully inside ...
your favorite night shoes.
Categories:
gams, appreciation, body, dance, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
The Prince was wicked pertinacious,
picky to the 'nth' degree,
inclined to be quite perspicacious
when considering Number Three.
The first had sadly disappointed,
not come up to scratch, you see,
and number two was ill-appointed
for a run at royalty.
His Princess must be slim and cracking!
all the things a bride should be;
the first two had been sadly lacking,
weighing in at 203!
And the Prince was quite the ' leg man,'
boobs and bums bored him to death,
skinny 'gams' got his attention,
drove him wild, he'd gasp for breath!
Number Three was pert and potent!
slender legs her argument, half
the size of each opponent,
her big edge? the smallest calf!
********
...a challenge to write a poem with this particular title,
I deliberately avoided LIVESTOCK!
Categories:
gams, writing,
Form:
Quatrain
The Prince was extra pertinacious,
picky to the 'nth' degree,
inclined to be quite perspicacious
when considering Number Three.
The first had sadly disappointed,
not come up to scratch, you see,
and number two was ill-appointed
for a run at royalty.
His Princess must be slim and cracking!
all the things a bride should be;
the first two had been sadly lacking,
weighing in at 203!
And the Prince was quite the ' leg man,'
boobs and bums bored him to death,
skinny 'gams' got his attention,
drove him wild, he'd gasp for breath!
Number Three was pert and potent!
slender legs her argument, half
the size of each opponent,
her winning edge? the smallest calf!
*******
the challenge? To write a poem with this exact title.
as you can see, I avoided livestock!
Categories:
gams, humorous,
Form:
Quatrain
Chartreuse waves of ocean,
Grains of ivory shore,
Drown another memory.
Citrus smothered whore.
Lemon-lime and bittersweet,
Icy hot and burn,
Swallowed pain, lies and truth,
So easy not to learn.
Salty veil of innocence,
Tattered, torn, a demons kiss,
Virgin, verdant, in twice the
way,
Intoxicated bliss.
Lick the rim, tongue in cheek,
Prickly compromise.
One, two, just one more,
Heart, head, thighs.
Sober thoughts become wasted
words,
Frozen drops of time,
Call someone who maybe
cares?
Why, waste the dime.
Agave drops of amber ombré,
Puddle on the floor.
Dignity and vigilance,
chaux des fondus au noir.
Elixir of the broken hearted,
Neon glow of gams, parted,
Lamentation, the nectar,
Of the harlot, and his bride.
Categories:
gams, sorrow
Form:
ABC
That Day In ‘73
That day in ‘73 was as clear and pristine as glass ice,
Torched by a brace of smitten souls falling in love.
There was no lush music to be heard in this duet,
No swiveling rhythms or conga lines for the long dance,
Nay, these two lovers found quiet shade and a fantasy,
Parked intimately beneath a black walnut tree in August.
I saw the sun peeking at us through rustling green leaves.
You and I made constant eye contact and talked
Incessantly in the dallying breeze as the hours
Strutted forward like a striking drum beating silence.
Our eyes and mouths salivated with each salty utterance.
You talked with a Texas drawl showing white lusty teeth
As you sat cross legged showing bare brown gams,
Slender and shining as polished chrome on a new statue.
Who could have known then it would end up a naked failure,
A meteoric plunge from utter infatuation to the deep abyss of
Dysfunctional love, strangled by fiascos of precision and symmetry,
Of heightened expectations canceled in the sweating darkness,
The inability of breaching the sweetened walls, the ripe walls,
Of this nineteen year old mansion hidden below the tracks, with
This well-shaped Saturday night walking around with nothing on.
That day in ’06 was as cold and overcast as icy black dirt,
Casting a pall of paralyzing grief the size of a granite temple;
There was subdued string music emanating from a boom box,
As the mother and her living sisters stepped up to see the body,
The sunken tan face that once spoke with a sultry Texas drawl,
Once lay naked in the breast-kissing darkness with eyes staring up;
Now the shining statue sleeps with Cancer there, being kissed again.
Categories:
gams, cancer, memory,
Form:
Free verse