Best Gluey Poems
I love you rain
Come at me
With your sparkling
Diamond splashing
Water baguettes
Diamondize me
Lick me with your
Splishering diamond joys
I love you rain
Come at me
With your portly portable pumping poetry
Flitter pitter patter buoying boosty banter
Pouring snoring, roaring soaring, jumping jets
Splitting swishing swashbuckling glitzy gorgeous glitterama
Blinging blanging clanging gluey golden glory
Air cleansing wooing wooshing wooting wind friend story
I love you rain
Come at me
With your dancing
Deftly dangling diamonds
Unfurl glowing skies
Flights of soothing cries
Your micro thunder
Kiss parade bluster
Skywide rosary seeds
Natures prayer leads
Meditation chi gong traffic
Micro hugs of time's fabric
I love you rain
Come at me
With your awe inspiring
Diamond light cracking crackling kisses
That sharpen, brighten, spin, shower, empower
The kaleidoscopic bright lips of faceted light!
Nurture us all, fill us all, with your connected inside out love!
Load us up with your resilient diamond fiber winks & glows
Quiet slinging sure serene silent super strength that guides the cosmos
I love you rain
Come at me
By Davieo, David Rothchild
She was back into my life after a long sejours
how could I not welcome her at the table
after so many suns and moons
Having crossed the oceans of reality,
my dream was a surreal bizarre reel,
featuring my sister
sitting at a table ogling whimsical canopies.
She says "I'm hungry," but when it comes time
to eat, she can't ,
Large strips of duck tape pasted
on both mouth and nose.
"so I could breathe better" was all she says;
I remember a much younger Lupita,
telling me she dreamt of midnight chocolates
wrapped in silver paper
with blue stars on them.
It's been six long years since I last saw her
the silence between us has epoxied
turning into a gluey exhibit;
Probably both of us are starving
for mother's homemade milk soup,
Though mom has been dead for eons,
like the Divco truck that rattled our glass bottles
like the memory of father on the balcony
holding a paintbrush, smelling of tobacco and paint,
This fantasmal dream of mine has no beginning,
and certainly no end.
In the forest, one I saw
Groping down a tree limb
Trembling like an old man
Dressed in a patchwork robe of
Green, gray, yellow and brown
Its colours were like the bark and leaves of the tree
At a glance, it could have been a cluster of
Yellow, brown and green leaves shaking in the wind
With a slow and deliberate gait
Changing colour at will to match the surrounding
The body gives the appearance of being rather compressed
With a pointed ridge along its back
Large eyeball, fused eyelids
Having only a small opening
Through which it looks for its preys
Shooting out its tongue several inches
Picking off insects with great skills
Lying horizontally in the back of its mouth,
A cone-shaped bone; the point forward
At its base, the long hollow tongue is anchored
Long muscles held the tongue
Pleated with accordion bellows
Compressed around the bone
Turning individually, its turret eyes
Within the range, an insect it spots
Powerfully, the long muscle contracts
And held the tongue over the bone
Like a compressed spring
The tip of the slippery bone tightens
And the tongue shoots out
Stuck on the gluey tip, the insect
Its long, limp tongue, slowly drawn in
Like a baby eating noodles
To see it again, a joy to the sight
This great chameleon!
words are not well today; starched
you ate them up like bread
in a box they slowly spoiled; parched
charnel house for the unsavory dead.
they’ve pickled long in quiet brine
meaning chokes; forms bind
brackish style and sly shade of lime
but not the wit once thought entwined
Yesterday, words were silkworms
crawling naked through town
Godiva white - stiff, gluey germs
but now
words have become unsettled and vague
no longer stuck like papier mache
but strewn out in bodies of an undying plague
most beautiful array
The words are not well today.
- Inspired by ‘Tubby Makes a Mistake‘ by Enid Blyton in ‘The Cuckoo in the Clock and other stories.’
When night falls,
toys come out to play
While we slumber and snore
the night away.
Now somewhere on the window ledge,
behind the long pink curtains there
lay a bottle of delicious biscuits!
And Tubby was a hungry bear.
So whilst all the toys were deep in siesta,
Tubby climbs up the long pink curtains!
Placed his paws into the biscuit jar,
who’d have guess what else happened!
Mommy realised the missing biscuits eventually,
and quizzed the children if they had stolen them.
Now all the toys frowned in the nursery,
they knew it must have been some toy,
from their own gang!
Ah, there was a clever witty clown,
seeing that nobody was around;
slipped up to the windowsill.
Placed those sticky gluey mistletoe berries!
So when the thief sneaks up to steal,
wala! The tacky berries will be stuck to his body!
Sure enough Tubby felt greedy again that night,
hauled up to the tasty snack.
The mistletoe berries did stick to him alright!
As clueless Tubby made his way back.
Ah hah!
How the toys exposed Tubby the berry next day!
And how they made poor Tubby pay.
They smacked, slapped, biff and whacked,
to help get those gummy berries off.
Tubby hid his face in his hands and wept.
From then Tubby never ever stole
You should have seen his look
Whenever he sees a mistletoe!
I create monsters
Then I wait in ages to hunt me
Monsters in dreams as I introduce
Become real hi t haunting to me as I work
They made me pay the bill never on time
Dreams and wishes garble in sparkly gluey neon dark cloud
Than every thought haunts as I live by them
It is a kind of monsters hidden in cloudy day in darkest cloud
They have very special kinds a I introduce from my birth
One is so kind the other everything about is greed
Third one is mirror watching what you have done
Monsters hunts me and fight them in my each day
There lies a field, where mice run and race.
I bought some traps, you know, just in case.
No risk of finger snaps
fool-proof, with gluey flaps...
Mouse does not die; but he's kept in place.
Eyes beg for mercy, what do I do?
rain bucket handy offers a clue.
Mouse caught in sticky trap;
submersion, it’s a wrap.
Blitzkrieg, one gasp; it's his Waterloo.
A shiny morning bathed in golden-gluey rays.
Somedays are different from everyday.
The royal couture's army, Of sun's dear palace.
Served down the feast of honour.
As I opened the mouth to greet.
The berries of my mommy's continental & savoury kitchen.
Satisfying the appetite of my elated much hungry soul.
Alongwith serenity, To my disturbed mood.
I took the boat, Destined for the shore of endless breathing.
& found myself lost, Into the lake of solitude.
The melody of contentment.
Drenched into my ear, when the swans passed by.
A merry moment to cherish & laugh.
Even the hours of daylight, Felt like a blink of seconds to my ardent eyes & carefree heart.
Roaming like a reckless, dancing paper doll.
A royal chic, Fully fledged with tantrums, that night. Cause,
I was wild.
I was free.
I was home
- Mauli Verma
Bongo taut resonance
Cornerless bellydance
Schedule of edges set adrift
Lured by translucent twirled wrists
Shimmer and shadow juxtaposition
Ripple wavered rhythm without repetition
Syrup never cool, pool dissolves all granules
Sip of boiled candy stories make tongues tangle
Sequel came spilled ink
Jellyfish stroke olympic
Pink stripe whimsy lifts his spirit
Saccharine capsule snaps weak inhibit
Swallowed by opaque pond, - agile diver
Gulps willing her glitter silver victimising saliva
Clamped cognition, gluey strawberry chew seduce
Bobbed acidic body embalmed calm in numbing fluid
22nd June
The wind puffed
And blew the clouds in for a day.
It puffed again
And blew them far away.
They'd just had time to play and spray,
To make the day a little gray,
And turn the dust and rust of earth
To gluey, shoe-stick, muddy mirth.
And to the shoe factory
'Twas very satisfactory.
And to the boy who wore the shoes
Wearing them was like good news;
And to the streamlet in the gutter where he washed them clean,
The soles of the shoes were a streamlet's dream,
And the long smooth sides of the gutter shone
To be blessed by the best of the factory's own.
And the wind puffed,
And puffed again.
A spider came crawling from my mouth.
Obstructing my thoughts, its view uncouth;
Wet-plaster egg-sacs lined in rows,
Frothy-white gluey strands stand aloft.
A whistling through teeth, acerbic garrote,
Like a ed-up chord, one shrieking note.
With spiked legs, lustrous eyes, it wriggles,
Inside and upwards, black shadow in throat.
In its dew-filled cavern, a spit waterfall trickles,
Eidolon eyes, the spectre reflects superficial
Light from gentry degenerate troughs.
My tongue swells purple, sour and fickle.
Odious fangs consume the decaying flesh
Of voices and whimpers and virtue lost.
In pellucid, idle husks, his venom flows -
Dripping acid, his wolf-grin, as I cough.
attention fixated in quanta of time
each packet a hypnotic trance
gluey friction inbuilt in duality
it's been fun but we're done
or so we imagine
as a subtle desire
mirroring aversion
signalling bondage
the rabbit hole goes in deep
04-November-2022
55 plus years of marriage down the drain
She watches it spin and spin
It is too much to process the pain
Her mind usually a flurry
No longer a need to hurry
Her Husband departed on that sweet sad night
The love of her life
The peanut butter to her lettuce
Is now out of sight
He was a funny one of hers that man almighty
Older and quiet
Shy and afraid of the Hyatt
Stuck in his ways
Never turned a common phrase
Grew up in the Great Depression
Some habits die hard
Or not at all
Always left a good impression
Ate a peanut butter lettuce sandwich everyday much to her appall
She hated peanut butter
Everything about it
Not a lot of peanut butter growing up in 1940s Japan
It always seemed like an awkward fit
But it takes a lot to stand up against the man
Even Though she abhorred it
Her husband never bored of it
The smell the taste that gluey ooooey stuck together like paste
She collected a jar
In the back seat of her car
And did it all again for him
Each and every shopping trip
Finally, her husband’s dead
A day she should have known would come
But naturally is full of dread
Now she stares out the window
Out the car
Out the door
Out of her head
What will I do with all of that peanut butter now?
Toyed by mind
We build a script
Then hang on to it
Gluey identity bind
Discarding all belief
Simply thoughts rest
No load on our chest
Soul gets some relief
Vibrant emptiness
There is no seeking
Feel soma seeping
Rapturous blissfulness
Immediate and intimate
Cognised in stillness
Pristinity of aliveness
To bliss beats gyrate
Life like images stream
As of past momentum
Carry no ego residuum
Within this lucid dream
18-February-2022
In the days of wine and roses
April showers fresh the air
Garden sculptures change their poses
Streets are leading everywhere
Sun is shining through the curtain
Through the gluey young green leaves
And I’m fairly well ascertain
You’re the reason of all this
On the cloth of glowing satin
Bowl with fruits, and open cage
Magic songbird sings in Latin
Memories of Golden Age
Boats are gliding down the river
Ours is most lazy one
Wings of dragonfly in quiver
Shimmer with reflected sun
We were heading for tomorrow
But we docked at yesterday
Days of joy, and days of sorrow
Built that harbour of pale gray
Home together, here's the bind
Every morning brings new rose
Every evening brings new wine
It's exactly what we chose
Home, unreachable for troubles
Garden, always quite the same
Life’s a boy, who blows fine bubbles
On the picture of Millais.