Best Handstand Poems


Flagpole Annie

My grandma was a steeple jack, 
Of heights she had no fear.
The crowds would gather round to watch.
They came from far and near, 
 
To see her swing and pirouette, 
Doff her hat and wave.
And gasped and cheered each time she feigned
A slip and then a save.
 
Roof-toppers winced and bit their lips,
Tight rope walkers screamed. 
Treetop loggers looked away 
At the daring they were seeing.
 
Women gasped and children shrieked,
Fearful she would fall,
But at full ascent a massive roar
As she stood upon the ball!
 
She blew a kiss to the those below
As she turned around with ease,
Then there atop removed her scarf
And cast it to the breeze 

But the crowd went wild as before their eyes
They viewed her final feat…
Into a handstand Grandma rose,
Then she waved and kicked her feet!

Whether flag pole, steeple, TV tower…
My grandma climbed them all.
For the freedom felt there in the clouds,
She was at their beck and call.

That grand old gal inspired me
Her legacy I've retraced.
Now I too dance upon a pole
At a club called Mary’s Place.
© Ken Rone  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member -Dick the Bully

I had not been on another poetry site even a week
And l had already crossed paths with a bully 
A self appointed “Professor of Poetry” it seems
Who spewed out rude comments regularly

Now, I don’t know your name
So I will  call you Richard 
(DICK for short!)
Insulting  and belittling
Others poems and effort
Is not called advice or support!

Now DICK, some of us just like to write poems
Simple though that may be
Not for judgement or accolades
Just for the joy of poetry

Being hurtful , rude and insensitive 
Arrogant, intimidating and just unkind
Does not make you knowledgeable or gifted 
Or a poet of any kind

DICK ….your words have no impact on me
 I am strong and your words meaningless and weak
My concern is for the young  or vulnerable 
Who may be affected or scarred by this garbage you speak
 
DICK ….. I suspect you think you are superior 
Intelligent and of a better class
But DICK I think you are doing a handstand 
And talking out your ar*e

Who gave you the right to be so judgemental
To think it’s ok to humiliate and be cruel
DICK you just make yourself look like 
An absolute DICK fool …..
© Deb M  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Ramblings of the Water Mistress

I feel the water
above me
below me
all around me
intimate
caressing
accepting
loving me

I go further down
to touch the bottom of the pool
and there
on the two painted dolphins
I push my hands down
and my feet break free from the water
shooting up into the air
my handstand
For a moment
I revel the erectness of my form
My legs above the water
the water trickling down them

slowly
I bring them back down
and burst out of the water
head and chest pushing out
Hair...laden with water
swung back
spraying a trajectory of liquid crystals behind me
I take in the air
I smile
I live
I breath
my arms move back and forth
I dip in again
then swim to the far side of the pool
I hold on to the metal hand guards
Put my legs out on the side of the pool
Knees bent
I push myself below the surface
looking around...
my playground
the water, my home

I'm in my element
I'm free
weightless and happy
the muffled sounds
and dancing lights on the surface
flirt with me
I stay for as long as I can
then I break the surface
Floating on my back
I look at the sky
I feel sublime
chest and tummy tasting the air
I'm there
There
where in my mind
I'm beautiful and divine
sultry mistress of the water
he's touching every part of me
I'm free
I'm free

Jade

I am never as happy as when I'm swimming....the pool lets me be more creative, but I also enjoy swimming in the Mediterranean sea. I've been called a dolphin.... I'm more like another aquatic mammal at present, but even those creatures are graceful and beautiful in the water. Summer is coming....


Premium Member I Tasted Summer

I tasted summer…
It sure tasted good
I was dying for a sip
Of my iced coffee CHINO
Only in Cyprus…
My drug of choice
Crushed ice with sweetened coffee
OH....YES!
In the evenings
succulent watermelon treats
Eating it all with relish
Even the seeds
what greed!

I tasted summer…
In that first dive into the pool
How cool!
Immersed in liquid delight
Open eyes
I touched the bottom of the pool
Two dolphins painted there
Let me have my way...
I did a handstand
Legs pointed straight up into the air
The water running down my legs
Straight up....I held on

Weightless
Weightless
In my element
My hair flowing around me
As I did my strokes
Diving in and out of the water
A fish…
That's how I got described
by the one who watched,
"Your so agile"

Such exuberance
I thought…OH…this is better...
Better that a sensual high
There was I
Gliding in and out
Water above, below, all around
Carrying me
Splashing around me
loving me
Playing...playing with my hair
Saturating my soul
With giddiness

Muted sound
Below the surface
I swim underwater
The width of the pool
I thrust up for air
Water slides off my body
The sun kisses me
Applauding the feat
I taste summer
It sure tastes good

Salty scent in my hair
My body slathered in sunscreen
Sand clinging to me
The beach
My sensing feasting
On every single thing...
My eyes delighted

A small September crowd
Enjoys the breeze
that creates the waves
I wade into the water
Intake of breath
I squeal
It's refreshingly cold
The water laps at my legs
crawling further and further up
Making me gasp
Finally....
I submerge
I laugh

I dive into the waves
One by one
I play...
I push myself high
My face to the shore
They pound on my back
I take a deep breath and let them roll over me
Enjoying the roughness
That "out of control" feeling
This is greater than me

And then
I lie back
I float
Blue above
White puffs: baby angel breath clouds
I let the sun ravish
The water carries me
I forget everything
My mind blank like the blue sky
There is nothing but the NOW
NOW
And there am I
Tasting summer
Salty and sweet
September treat
And happy
Oh, so, happy, am, I!

Eileen Manassian

Premium Member frankly speaking

fool me once shame on 
me ~ fool me twice shame on you ~
but more I ignore ...

facts of life ~ well taught
lives well ~ so-so not so well ~
not at all ... jail cell

Spring to life ... summer
lounge ... fall remembered ~ then say
colder than least year

I dream to forget
you ... not at night but by day
 ~ you haunt my nightmares ...

*heard you of ... four two
three then none ... handstand yoga
taught by an angel

*baby crawl on fours, adult stands on two, elder's cane makes three, Heavenly carry leaves none ~ then mine is a parody pun.

Premium Member Forty Years and Counting

I was hopelessly smitten in English class,
By this girl with a boyfriend, a challenging impasse.
She had long shiny locks, the color of auburn,
And the curves of a Ferrari, in a hairpin turn.

To win her away from that boyfriend's lair,
Took getting noticed, to have even a prayer.
A skateboard handstand, provided exposure,
Upside down I zoomed by, as she search four-leaf clovers.

When her best girlfriend, provided the news,
My gorgeous sweet red head, now sung the blues.
That she and that fellow, a thing in the past,
One phone call and BAM, we're dating at last!

Now on to her best features, the theme of this prose,
And the reason I'd eventually ultimately propose.
Then move her from one place to another eight times,
As the wife of a Sailor, a career Navy wife.

Her full lips frame a gorgeous, welcoming smile,
Forty years now, I’ve certainly come to admire.
Conveying kindness, but warning all men,
She’s spoken for, and quite happily taken.

Her most attractive feature has always been clear,
Her warmth and genuinely pleasant demeanor.
She’s a funny gal, and awfully smart,
Four decades of marriage, to my high school sweetheart!


Premium Member Christmas Limerick

Christmas limerick to honor my friends.
Do a handstand, but skip the knee bends.
We are getting old
Holidays are gold
Please enjoy them to their bitter ends.

When the children get to be too much
Put them on your laps give them the touch
But I’m forty-three
They might say with glee
Hold them harder with a loving clutch.

Cherish each moment with your loved ones.
Enjoy those buttery hot sweet buns.
Memories today
May keep gloom away
Celebrate Jesus in the pretty sun.

Life Is a Dance

Life is A Dance


Yesterday I was here, twirling about
Laughing and learning lifes lessons, no steps left out
Every now and then, I do have a stumble
Straighten up and move on, have to be humble

Today another day, jump up and sing
Pass on your lessons, give it a swing
To lead, to follow, it is all good
Ups and downs are part of ones livelihood

Tomorrow I am back where I began
Stronger and better, do a handstand
You deserve it, take a bow
Lifes dance won't give you more than time will allow


Contest by:  Kim Merryman

Jodis Happy Handstand

Jodi’s happy handstand 

Ms. Arias,
Ms. slashing throat,
Ms. stabbing-the-guy-27-times,
Ms. shooting-the-guy-in-the-****ing-head
after he was dead,
who got transformed for her trial,
from blond babe to
librarian (courtesy of her lawyer),
who has been lying through her teeth for
3 months now,
whose story has holes big enough to drive
a car through,
now can be seen on tape
doing a handstand in the interrogation room
on the day of her arrest…
she was singing &
she was regretting aloud that she should have
done her makeup &
yet, this is something that the jury isn’t allowed to
see.

if this killer gets off &
the jury sees see her interrogation video 
which has been spread 
all over the internet, 
imagine being one of those jury members
who believed her lies & then
you see her doing a handstand…

Fly

Last night your ghost passed by me
Riding a bicycle with a basket
And oh, how badly I wanted to be in that basket
Like E.T,
Finger lit and pointed
Guiding us to my home
Where I was a little girl
Sad eyes 
Brown curls
Little hands aligned into a prayer
Asking God to send me an Angel
But instead... he sent me an electric boy called Angel
With a bruised soul, and loose wings
 
And we tried fixing them
With all different kinds of things!
But the tape kept falling off
Weary of your stubbornness
So we, sewed them with needles and threads instead
Then I tucked you in bed
And I read you a story
The last line said,
"You will never be alone."
But even then, you did not fly.
 
Remember that time you were
Rolling dollar bills into telescopes
Claiming you could see God
And Nai, from her joy, did a handstand
On the balcony’s ledge
White sneakers reaching the sky
Ready to dominate the clouds
And she fell back
Diving backwards
Into a sea of what could have been
And what should have been
 
That was the morning they reported
Both our broken hearts on the news
And we, didn’t know what to do
So I, held that ladder steady
As you climbed up and serenaded the moon
Singing:
Please bring her back
It’s too soon to take her away!
It’s too soon.
 
And no matter how hard I try…
I cannot seem to forget
No one told you to go
Drunk-driving on the roads in my head
Lost, confused and striving,
To crash into something
That could justify your existence.
 
Now I see you everywhere
In every swing promising kids they can fly
In every colorful thing that breaks and dies
Every dripping faucet is screaming:
"He is still there!"
Every fallen strand of my hair
Becomes the thread to the kite
That drags me to your memory...
You speak to me
 
Every shooting star, a reminder
I see you standing
In every tunnel at the end of my drink
Hands crossed on your chest
Secrets confessed
And abandoned like lily pads in the water
In every door slammed shut by the wind
I sense your anger
 
I see you
I feel you
In every scattered constellation
Dancing next to the speakers in my imagination
The music moving your limbs like the hands of a puppeteer...

And I love you, dear
And I will always miss you, dear
You always danced...
But you could never fly.

Man In the Marching Band

Here’s the man in the marching band
Fiddlin with sticks on his petty hands
Marching, marching round the street
In the middle of the glazing blazing heat.

Here’s the man in the marching band
Here’s the man. He’s in command
With a little syncopation & intonation
Here’s the man in the marching band

Here’s the man in the marching band
Here’s the man when he’s on demand
Walking in the steps of a child’s handstand
Dancing to the beat of a broken watchband

Sticks and stones might break his drums
No beat, no soul, no rhythm, no goal
Maybe one day, he’ll break his bum
Thanks to countless talented taps he stole

Here’s the man in the Marching Band
Confidence looking so high and grand
Here’s the man in the marching band
Next time he plays, the drums will be canned!

Ass Arrangement Is An Ass Assortment

An assortment of assorted asses assessed antelope antics angelically arranged

A vibrant and charming assortment of periwinkles, mints, truffles, sliced peanut cubes, diced baps, and a haddock basted in creamed lard. Now that must surely be an acronym for an actor but actresses prefer the wafer thin biscuit truffles under a melon spray and the painted opaque plaques of prawns and lettuces. Equilateral is a nice neat swooping swerve arriving at ten past six and ten past six is neither ten talking tents timing tuna steaks and nor is it six mammoths doing a handstand in a bandstand. All heads move then. Move around the garden plates with the trays. Little clinking cups filled with bud dews and sandwich stands to make a speech with the cress microphones and the cheese leads. Fantastically flaming flambés flamboyantly flashing fishes. And a little mouse holding a dish was hopeful to gather some creamed buttoned brie and camembert. But only if attired correctly. Rather swim in a puddle then on the top of a flooded skyscraper thought the pigeon. And the balls of the woolly moths and snails in all the walk in wardrobes worldwide clapped until the predicaments were aligned from the large banqueting buffers. Trains did not attend. And neither did Mr bus. Nor terry toweling tram. Bring the eleven cakes at once to get tote song. And strong is a stem and a steam is a stewing steak. Z representational Z at nineteen bangles booming to twelve aerial photographs of a little seeded bun. Z *** HAHAHA XX Z

Premium Member The Red Horse

A RED HORSE

Marc and Bella
beg for blessings
the portrait of a marriage

candlelight and the crimson cover
rides overhead
like a holy arch

a handstand,
like the artist’s euphoria,
balances on the back
of the red horse

dark days of Russia
play in the fields below
a suspended violin
wisps of forlorn clouds

blue with happiness
Marc embraces his bride

Bella holds her fan on earth
but a songsheet in heaven’s clouds
one bare foot upon
the backside of the reddened horse

her lips round with soothing sound
Marc’s protection above her
playing their wedding song

fantasy over rooftop
an arching crescent moon
“head over heels”  in love

8/16/2017

My Mental Handstand

Maybe I just needed a hand 
A hand to show there is someone 
Someone who genuinely cares
Cares that I lack trust
Cares that I lack faith 
In me ... sometimes 
Maybe I just needed a patient hand 
A none judgemental hand 
An open hand 
That didn’t hold pent up tension
Cramping with every tentative grasp
Maybe in the face of uncertainty 
That was the only hand I needed 
A strong hand 
To lead me through a fragile state
To my old handstand 
That didn’t require any physicality 
- my own mental handstand-

This Detachment

I’ve practiced, this detachment

this try and play and give and take

of feelings that stay

you pulled me through the doorway

calling me to temptation and wants

when one day more is all there is

no more waits, when magic is today

even when you are there

and the man at the fruit stand puts the menu in my hand

ill be back tomorrow

thank you my friend

Namaste

this happiness, this love, why am I here?

there’s too much…

But you, it is so simple

smiles and winks, a handstand by the sea

the one I dreamt of in a dream

when love is in my hand

the rest flows into hearts

I said, All I need are your eyes and lips..

teeth and mouth

They were the first I saw

the last thing I remember

they took me away, and I’m still buzzing

like the scooter on my last day…take flight

wind between our hair, fingers on hips

I feel whole,  you said.

and when our lips dance.

I feel empty,

with space for nothing,

but you.

More at : http://brendenpettingill.com/index.php/2018/02/02/this-detachment/

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