Best Gawked Poems
from owned to dethroned
you led me
from queen to unseen
you hid me
once crowned to now bound
you kept me
absorbed to derobed
you left me
a spectacle to be gawked at
you jeered me
from diamond to dust
you threw me
once devoid of lust
you spurned me
and yet, here I am
naked
bleeding
dishonored
unwanted
here I stand
here I smile
biding my time a while
knowing as I do
the inner splendor shines through
I bathe my naked body
perfume every curve
comb out my raven hair
for I dare
This is swear:
None can usurp my throne
It's mine and mine alone
I climb the stairs
and they all stare
yes, they stare
so aware
the Queen has returned
your history’s been burned
I'm here
more beautiful than before
radiance galore
I see you
with flames of desire
once more in your eyes
you...watch me.....R^I^S^E
my glory emanates through
every idol set up by you
adoration's MY due
It is true:
discarded to lauded
I taunt you
demeaned to re-queened
I rule you
I reign, I disdain
don't be vain
your plea to return
I will burn
spurn
I'll watch you yearn
you can't take me back
I know what you lack
a heart and a soul
I won’t make you whole
Knighted to blighted
I see you
And so….
adored to abhorred
I leave you
Eileen Manassian Ghali
One lone rose tumbled from the basket,
the same as the others but set apart
All were beautiful. They congregated
in one basket, these Southern belles,
but she, with her pink cheeks, tumbled,
she’d cut her ties. She loved them, indeed,
but not exclusively. No one was there
to hold her by the hand. She knew
and cared about the world out there.
all the southern belles
beautiful, adorned in pink ~
one lone rose cut ties
She’d end up in a beautiful bouquet,
dusted off, picked up from the floor.
She was the bride’s favorite - was she
something new or something old?
She wasn’t sure - it didn’t matter,
she was used for a moment in time,
carried as the piano played, as
the crowd stood to admire the bride.
how the bouquet served,
open to severed flower ~
the pride of the bunch
Puffed-up in the part she played.
The lovely pink dustable would be saved,
dried, sprayed. She was loved, as surely
as if she was the velveteen rabbit, boxed
up - almost nearly ever gawked at. Her
favorite time was when a little girl, who
looked so much like the bride of years-
gone-by, opened the box and picked her up.
surprise opening
admired, crushed, and scattered rose
a little girl laughs
She was admired and crushed and
a puckered up lady scooped her up
and kissed her over and over again
telling her of her favorite flower - a foundling
she admired even with its scattered petals.
kisses are gathered
strewn on the cheeky lassie ~
she’s a gift of life
She gave one petal to the mischievous girl -
“God bless you! May this grow into
a pretty bouquet, special and unique.
I’ve been so blessed, dear one.
May your life be so blessed too.”
understanding not
but love was never forgot
for girl’s heart was full
Then the worn out rose saw the old
bride kiss her granddaughter, again,
as they laughed and the girl’s cheeks
turned an eternal pink, taking on the hue
of reignited petals. She would stand apart
from the rest, though she loved them all
would serve the world. Her name was Rose.
her namesake of old
ruffled, lacy, magi’s gift
a blessing from God
9/1/2022
Twas’ by a waterfall quite late,
Beneath the stars, full moon awake,
I saw my tiny love, my Fay,
Upon a mossy bank, she lay;
At first glance, I thought a dragonfly,
Poor thing had died whilst on the fly,
Fell there dead on that cold wet ground,
Until a closer look, bent down;
What I thought a mosquito hawk,
Sent me shivers whilst I gawked,
Arms, two legs, such delicate wings,
With Violet gown laid my undine;
I dare not touch her least she break,
Then realized it was my fate,
To take her home, to mend her there,
My little Fay with golden hair;
I placed her in a matchbox bed,
A cotton ball beneath her head,
Cut blankets from a silken scarf,
And tucked her in with weeping heart;
The days that passed where dreary ones,
For I was worse than faerie dumb,
And cursed myself each pacing night,
Inept to help my fading sprite;
With drooping eyes, and quite depressed,
I felt my heart sink in my chest,
My dear sweet Fay was turning blue,
And there was nothing I could do;
My shoulders shook, my tears were rain,
My love for Fay an aching pain,
I prayed take me, take me instead,
Then little Fay moved in her bed;
Into the air, a dart she flew,
Her wings a blur, no longer blue,
Around my head, she circled twice,
Then out the window, lost to night;
My heart became an empty thing,
Until I heard the buzz of wings,
And saw sweet Fay had spun around
With wand in hand, she shrunk me down;
My clothes are piled on the floor,
Gargantuan garb, which I once wore,
Dear Fay prefers my naked skin,
And woods have spider webs to spin.
I stood, as if buoyed up, atop a crag,
unchanged (yet somehow changed), not knowing why
my mountain-climbing friends could so much lag,
for I was where the pinnacle met sky,
but they were gone completely from my view,
and in the recess, then it dawned on me
my situation strangely was askew!
My vision was an eagle's. I could see
the roads along the shore where we had docked
before we'd started up each wrinkled slope.
Then further on, my mates, all sobbing, gawked
at someone motionless who lay with rope
in lifeless clutch. I felt no wrath, but peace
engulf me; I embraced my soul's release.
9/26/2014
An N/A poem for Screwed X Poetry Contest of Rob Carmack
Dedicated to my son, my heart, my Kyle
As infant, he was a smile and precious dimples
who had experienced no day or night simple.
He constantly battled while growing in the womb
in order to cease death's increasing threat of doom.
He battled inside the special care nursery
where I garnered my first Motherhood memory.
As toddler, he battled space to allow his place
because balance had not been granted by the fates.
So, too, he fought to finally stand up and walk.
He would fall, stand to retry, no matter who gawked.
He struggled to button, tie, open, close and zip
as fine motor skill challenges were a rough trip.
He will never, ever read, the teachers all said,
no matter that he piles books around him in bed.
Each night after dinner, he studied to the brim
with me who had learned how to teach reading to him.
Then seizures came and took what he had learned away.
School-bullies learned how to make him seizure each day.
Neurologist failed with this med and then tried that.
All had side effects that were hellish living facts.
Once in his bed, he was spinning, holding my hand
and my tears began to fall despite my command.
"Mama, all our days, Mother and Son love will stand
so, please don't cry, God has a perfect seizure plan.”
After a two year fight, the scary seizures stopped.
Since, his gross and fine motor skills have soared and popped.
His reading skills improved, increased and success locked.
Now, as adult, his dimples and smile remain hot.
My precious, brave son lives life with all he has got.
To me, my son’s steady courage has always rocked.
... CayCay Jennings
December 19, 2016
She slipped into the single’s club,
where an assortment
of horny guys and lonely hearts had assembled.
Some were there hoping to find that "special" someone
and some had come to chase away the blues,
tinkling ice in cocktail glasses soon to be refilled.
Others, who might be labeled commitment phobic,
had simply come to case the place for an easy lay.
Swinging svelte, mini-skirted hips lasciviously,
she strutted over to the counter
on legs that looked their longest and most shapely
from being hoisted on high red heels.
Every pair of eyes was trained on her.
Some in the club gawked
with eyes that hid beneath mascara-painted lashes, flitting envy.
Others leered with pupils dilating lust
from ogling the two soft protrusions in her tight white turtleneck.
Then with pink champagne in hand,
the goddess turned and surveyed her audience,
most of whom by now had looked away.
One remained, mesmerized, with eyes riveted on her.
He quivered when she caught his gaze
and strolled over to where he sat.
As she approached, he marveled at her face -
the chiseled cheekbones strong and high,
the dark eyes, luminescent and immense,
and curiously, an upturned nose so delicate
it seemed almost too perfect,
like one acquired from a sculptor’s hands.
He gulped when she asked him for a dance,
and as he asked this intriguing lady’s name,
he wondered at the timbre of her voice,
so provocative and low as she tossed dark brown locks
and said seductively,
“My name is Lola. L-O-L-A , Lola.”
Inspired by an old song from the 70's and
used now for Skat's the Premiere Contest number 10 Poetry Contest
Said the Chipmunk to the Hawk
Said scared, little, tail-striped chipmunk to red-tailed hawk,
“I am hidden over there where you will not find me.”
Said hawk in a swoop to another branch, “Jiggle that
tail again, so I’ll dive and sweep you off to heaven!”
Crouching as flat to the earth as she could be, chip-
munk said, “But I am already there where all points
of heaven reveal bliss...” which did perplex red-tail hawk,
who gawked up, then scanned all around for
some clue of heaven in this forest he knew he knew,
as she provoked, “You see?” But with his instincts
darting everywhere, hawk replied, “You lie! You
make riddles of my threat!” To which she flashed to
the opening of her tunnel, quick as light, calling,
“Heaven does contrive for good in life!” Hawk
affirmed a new place of some prey and turned.
Was he not made to hunt? Not for dramas like this?
Hawk bent over his feet, lifted his wings into flight
aimed at rustling leaves not far away. Hawk, while in
his flash, asked his forest, “Heaven, does it spread
as far as over there where I go?” Forest said, “No know,
no.” Hawk did not understand...In her tunnel, chip-
munk dropped two acorns from her cheeks to eat.
————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally Young eslinger 2/2021
A tad over three blocks down Merion Lane
on the left is, an idyllic Cape Cod.
I must've passed it a thousand times
my own picturesque, perfect, postcard place
couched in the right light, dappling rays
fresh-painted, white fence, ruby red front door.
Never once did I not try looking in,
a golden kickplate, bright brass knocker ring.
Begging to be seen, this family within
lotsa plain pane windows, no blinds, no sheers.
There it still stands proudly these many years.
In deep snows that had filled front walkways
in warming, romantic, radiated, lustrous light
hearth hues burst through the panes beyond the glass.
One spring, I saw a fine fetching lass run
across this closely manicured front lawn with her
bouncing blonde, long locks, glowing gleefully.
I mused as I passed by half-staring;
we'd marry maybe, wishful pairing!
And have a dreamy storybook Cape Cod too.
That fall, our family moved far away.
But was I not to see her, who's to say?
Still, I remember that house, that dream
I might've married her, my crazy scheme.
Last night it snowed. Drove that road again.
Five years later, that same house was still there.
On the outside, the front door now lime green.
Inside, a fire burns brilliant like before.
I saw this striking blonde while I gawked.
Startled, the green door opens, she walked
across the snowy street, without her coat.
Poised, she stood there and said straight to me,
"Aren't you the boy who used to stare?",
through my window I gush, "Why yes, I am."
She said she'd wondered about me,
even though they'd never known my name.
Star-crossed, my illusion had dreamt back!
Those private affections landed somehow:
illusions can come true, they often do.
Left my car, took her hand, then went inside;
over a cozy cocoa we chatted.
No longer a star from afar - so near.
New worlds would now open for us right here.
Lost love came home to the house down the road.
Written 2/19/21
The hunky man with tarzan zeal
had sexy buns made of steel
when he walked
the girls gawked
as they cried, Oh heh, can I feel ?
I was contacted months ago by a person named Lauren Godly. She's a media student, and she asked me if she could turn my poem, Adored to Abhorred into a video. It's finally been completed. It's such a wonderful feeling when you know that your poetry can help make a difference.
Adored to Abhorred
from owned to dethroned
you led me
from queen to unseen
you hid me
once crowned to now bound
you kept me
absorbed to derobed
you left me
a spectacle to be gawked at
you jeered me
from diamond to dust
you threw me
once devoid of lust
you spurned me
and yet, here I am
naked
bleeding
dishonored
unwanted
here I stand
here I smile
biding my time a while
knowing as I do
the inner splendor shines through
I bathe my naked body
perfume every curve
comb out my raven hair
for I dare
This is swear:
None can usurp my throne
It's mine and mine alone
I climb the stairs
and they all stare
yes, they stare
so aware
the Queen has returned
your history’s been burned
I'm here
more beautiful than before
radiance galore
I see you
with flames of desire
once more in your eyes
you...watch me.....R^I^S^E
my glory emanates through
every idol set up by you
adoration's MY due
It is true:
discarded to lauded
I taunt you
demeaned to re-queened
I rule you
I reign, I disdain
don't be vain
your plea to return
I will burn
spurn
I'll watch you yearn
you can't take me back
I know what you lack
a heart and a soul
I won’t make you whole
Knighted to blighted
I see you
And so….
adored to abhorred
I leave you
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Small and Extra Large Loo
ma viewed her old man in a helpful mood
her sweetness turned to a fiery storm brewed
a two sitter for the loo
his and her tush fit for two
extra spicy will simmer in his food
Eve Roper 11/18/2016
Fred cut two holes in the dunny
His poor wife didn’t find it so funny
The HUGE hole for HER rear
Now filled HIM with fear
She could drop him in poop so runny
(Dunny is an Australian word for toilet)
By: Jan Allison 11/20/2016
Ma clenched her fists in anger when she saw
the two toilet seats constructed by Pa
he made hers entirely too large
then said her butt's big as a barge
Ma's in jail for murder~she broke the law
By: Lin Lane 11/20/2016
Papa was a sweet pleasing spouse
He built mama a new custom outhouse
One look was all it took
She caught him with a left hook
Widening the door all it took to rouse
By: Sonny Roper 11/20/2016
Nothing beats a good wooden throne
A two seater I’d really condone
Oh to share the sound of the plop
From things that tinkle and drop
I fear the wife, would rather go it alone
By: Mark Woods 11/20/2016
I have been ordered to renovate the loo
so my good wifey can go for a poo
the hole I cut was so large
as it had to fit her ****
Oh im in trouble now, what a to-do
By:Stephen Pennell 11/20/2016
Before Dad could reach the pit,
my enraged Mum took a fit.
The seat as we gawked,
made into a wooden stalk.
For my poor pitiful Pop.
By: Jean Murray 11/20/2016
*Image of The Big Bang Theory giphy by CBS.
Coronavirus: COVID-19
A knock upon my chambered door, silence foregone, it goes ignored,
Too feeble I, coldness instills, lain I awry e'er filled with chills,
Vice convince spree goes on toiling, thrice has it been, owned its spoiling,
My eyes have seen, I've read the news, tried ears have be, shunned knocked sound blues,
Scores abound knocked chambered door, roars I cannot, for I am sore,
Then suddenly, a stillness had come, my chambered door, went silently numb,
So I, read on, of coronavirus, tis recent so hence be it naught an antivirus,
Kept abreast of things albeit online, inducement, the spread, signs, all be I fine,
Cawing gawked my chambered window, peering through midst raised crescendo,
A black raven tis annoyance it is the calling, disturbance afoot, perpetual cawing,
A chapter be read, of the ailment, fear breeds in verses, amongst confinement,
As a bird scrutinize, belittles my illness, with a litany of awk, pesty nuisances,
Fatal passages beset home and town, beat I the averages, best all around,
A door and window, be I immune, alas, a dreaded raven befalls its lampoon.
2020 March 12
*2nd Place*
Coronavirus COVID-19
~~Team PoetrySoup: Judged 2020 May 12
I set out to write a poem
For Leighann’s Affliction contest
My ADD was in full force but
I was full of promise and zest
So I wrote a couple of lines
Then noticed the grimy floor
Polished the dusty mantle
Gawked at the hot guy next door
I sat back down to write
To focus and stay on task
O Wait…that new soap opera
And my cucumber face mask
Then I read the contest rules
AFTER I wrote these lines
It was supposed to be free verse
And my oversight shines!
Since I failed to follow directions
I say with true conviction
If I do not place in this contest….
I’ll blame it on my affliction
*Though I made light of it in this poem, Attention Deficient Disorder (commonly known as ADD or ADHD) is a serious disorder, but treatment is available. Treatment (for you or your children) is not something to be feared-it changed my life!!!
Dad came home with a packaged parcel
when I was just a boy.
A special gift he'd bought for me.
I had hoped it was a toy.
He placed it on the floor below
and nodded that I open.
I reached for it and fully smiled;
bulky and utopian.
And knowing that my parents bought
a gift from both their hearts,
I schlept next to the box contents
and pryed it up in parts.
At first sight, there emerged a truck-
One shiny, big and red.
I gawked excited, my eyes glued fast
and paused to breath then shed.
That night I played around the room.
The floor my second home.
That soon I tired and fell asleep
inside the box and dome.
By morning I had made a home,
a window and a door.
I parked my truck outside the box
leaned back to sleep and snore.
I napped and played throughout the day:
the box more fun than toy.
I saw my parents laugh at me,
and I just smiled coy.
The box was more than I expected.
A toy more than all toys.
A box a noble thing to have,
to play inside with noise.
A box to do most any thing.
To raise me and to guide.
Now that I'm older and think back
my parents loved the ride.
I'm older now and have two kids.
I think I'll buy them gifts.
and knowing what I know of parents,
I'll get a box that lifts.
A cardboard box that's square and simple.
A love of boys and girls.
A home with doors and windows,
that bounces, plops and whirls.
A cardboard box straight from the heart.
No greater love of parents.
One kid's can laugh and play inside.
A love that is transparent.
Gloria Louise's last name was Bra.
she chanced to have a rack that struck awe.
Folks stared and gawked
men talked and talked.
It was like nothing they ever saw.