Best Huggers Poems
Blindfolded, he takes me from the car through the humid air of August. He holds my hand, and then surrounds me with his arms, when small obstacles appear. He brushes the hair from my forehead, gentling me like a shy colt. The silk rectangular scarf, I had folded and tied about my breasts clings to me. My cutoffs ride up further exciting me, as he lifts me onto a wall. Shushing me, he says. “Sit still, honey.” I have no idea where we are but, his voice and footsteps have a slight echo.
the wail
of a harmonica:
moonlight serenade
Vibrations tingle across my skin, raising the down on my arms. A bead of sweat mixes with baby lotion and follows a shiver down, from cleavage to navel. Seconds become minutes, as the song caresses me. Oh, how I love him, this long tall drink of water with his huge hands and slow drawl. As the last note hangs in echo, I hear him approach. He lifts me high and traces the droplet down to the top of my hip-huggers with his tongue. I am still blindfolded when he places me on the ground. I feel his breathe upon my mouth. The tip of his tongue plays across my teeth. Ah, I remember him, his face, his hands, his taste, and that night at the empty skating rink…but, sadly, not his name.
the scarf
falls from my hands:
the drawer closes
First Published by Contemporary Haibun On-line Winter of 2013
Categories:
huggers, sensual,
Form:
Haibun
yellow daisy chain
Birkenstocks sandals
ukuleles play
peace sign happy face
a hippie child
1960’s
Woodstock music
pass around bong
free love flowing
bell bottoms
hip-huggers
lava lamp
flower
child
love
Categories:
huggers, nostalgia,
Form:
Diminished Hexaverse
BEING HUMAN BEINGS
Some people are evil.
Maliciously.
Some people create drama. Monstrosities..
Some people have ulterior motives. Intentionally.
Some people have remorse.
An apology.
Some people have profound words. Poetically.
Some people are tree huggers.
Organically.
Some people have no common sense. Stupidity.
Some people are real religious.
Spiritually.
Some people are inmature.
Mentalities.
Some people die in crashes.
Fatalities.
Some people are ignorant.
Their just to blind to see.
Some people have a sixth sense.
Let's call it telepathically.
Some people feel sorrow for others.
Some would call that Sympathy.
But when people understand sorrow for others.
It becomes empathy.
Some people are real chill. We'll say Copacetically.
Some people are plain fake. AKA...Artificially.
Some people are solid.
Its called Solidarity.
Some people are single.
Its called singularity.
Some people take their last breath.
They are put in a cemetary.
Some people save their breath and never speak.
Monastery.
Some people are tone deaf.
They have No melody.
Some people dress real risque.
In other words quite provocatively.
Some people rise above the rest. That's what i call Quintessentially.
BUT......ALL.... PEOPLE....
Should love.
Unconditionally.
Demonstrate peace.
Peacefully.
Work.
Systematically.
Live.
Longevity.
Laugh.
Uncontrollably.
Respect others.
Diplomatically.
Throw away the hate.
Practice racial equality.
If We do all those things,
then the world we live in,
could be in,
perfect harmony.
Categories:
huggers, inspirational, life, people,
Form:
Free verse
"Tree huggers” use AT&T
The human cost catastrophe
On the horizon
Like text from Verizon
Is sent with the speed of 4G
Pollution's still booked at no
cost
And Earth’s expenses neatly tossed
Off the balance sheet
With a "Sprint" so complete
The effects on nature seem lost
Yes EPA rules do offend
Those who crave Earth’s wealth without end
They claim to hate debt
But have seen nothing yet
Like phone bills "T-Mobile" might send!
Author's note: It seems ironic and strange that debt haters (like tea party supporters, for
example) and those who are pushing more reliance on fossil fuel and less "subsidy" for
renewables (Romney/Ryan for example) support the continuation of policies and
practices that will damage the environment and that will hurt future generations. They are
pushing growth and not pushing conservation. I would have more respect for them if
they talked about the costs as well as the benefits of their plans. I wonder if it might just
be a scam to reward large corporations for the short term and stick it to the rest of us for
generations. That would be nothing new.
Categories:
huggers, business, funny, life, philosophy,
Form:
Limerick
[A short List]
Weeds,
with roots reaching for China.
Poison Ivy,
hidden among the blossoms.
Wasps,
perching above, to dive bomb
as you walk through a door.
Mole runs,
zigzagging across the lawn.
Socks,
working their way downward,
with each step.
Dogs,
who won't stop barking.
Wet dog smell,
after a walk in the rain.
White pet hair on black slacks.
Unwashed bodies,
camouflaged by perfume.
Shoppers,
who hold up the line,
while they go back for a forgotten item.
Chain smokers,
in closed quarters.
Back bumper huggers.
The price of gasoline.
Categories:
huggers, angst,
Form:
List
You wanna come over?
Sorry made plans.
Know that don't appeal to your mans'
vision of what I should oughta be doin
but is ok...
'cause here what I've got to say about that.
Is a two way street, sugar
and don't know where you've driven
but I've met road-huggers
of 'bout every make, model and style
think I'll give in
to inequality. You wanna be with me?
Than make me feel least half as good
as I do you.
Categories:
huggers, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
I'm getting sick of tree huggers
always hugging trees
this kinda dumb
seems pretty stupid to me
i said trees aren't meant to be hugged dude
he just turned and said screw you
and then he said you're just jealous because we're getting married.
so i went over there and punched him in the eye
and then i set the tree on fire then it died
and i walked away as he cried that was the end of the tree hugger's life.
Categories:
huggers, abortion, bridal shower,
Form:
Rhyme
Travelling through the outback
with a tour group,
my stomach started rumblin'
I had to go poop.
I ran underneath
a eucalyptus tree,
but a dang dingo
kept following me.
I had to go
really darn bad,
this is the worst feeling
I have ever had.
I kept running around
was feeling rather daft,
I seen a kookaburra
it stood there and laughed.
I was running wildly
around the open bush,
farts were comin' out
of me gassy tush.
Me knickers were being
real nasty buggars,
they kept ridin'
they were extremely tight huggers.
After all the runnin' around
I met up with my tour group,
never did find the dang outhouse
and I still gotta go poop.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Sept.1/2004
This is one of the writes in my poetry book titled, "Who Says Poetry and Humour Don't Mix?"
Categories:
huggers, art,
Form:
Rhyme
"Mr. Dick?...Please Stop!"
telling lies, saying girls spun to perfume humor
while daunting pearl lips
"Mr. Dick?...Please Stop!"
sucking boys ego!
it makes wooden virtues halt
"Mr. Dick?...Please Stop!"
laughing along with burly
turkeys that gobble in vain
"Mr. Dick?...Please Stop!"
spanking babies bottoms
and dressing with hip-huggers
"Mr. Dick?...Please Stop!"
wearing cotton/polyester ties
and spandex free underwear
"Mr. Dick?...Please Stop!"
worsening the situation
and soften to blow
then... we can be friends
again
Categories:
huggers, funny
Form:
Free verse
I wish I was a Tory,
It would be another story,
So much simpler not to care
Or have to be aware
Of how other folks must strive
To make a crust to stay alive.
I could keep my privileged indifference
Surrounded by a picket fence
I wouldn't have to own the knowledge
(Whilst enjoying Heston's snail porridge)
That paupers are dying on NHS trolleys
I could just enjoy my hard earnt lolly,
Keeping my guilt edged share portfolio
Guilt free and safe offshore
(Like Rees Mogg, Gove and BoJo) so
That my net worth will appreciate
And HMRC won't be able to deviate
The profits accrued from fracking
To subsidise those who are plainly lacking
Any acumen or entrepreneurship
As a Tory I could safely worship
At the altar blessed by Thatcher, Zuckerberg and
Branson,
As I stack up my king's ransom,
A monument to personal wealth,
Built without any heed to the health
Of the welfare scroungers or the planet
A social conscience? They should ban it!
Let's get on and get the bull done,
Disposable wealth is supposed to be fun,
What's the point in being a Tory
If you're hamstrung by one nation rhetoric?
Yoghurt knitting tree huggers make me really
sick,
'It's for the money, not for you'
Is the motto of my Tory crew,
so go hug a hoody if you will,
My snout is staying firmly in the swill!
Categories:
huggers, humorous, irony, political,
Form:
Political Verse
Lost in my youth coming from this old vinyl
groovin the grooves and riding the vibes
that take me back to
1969
Black lights, a strobe or two,
share some smoke between me and you
back to when, hair was in
her hip huggers, my bell bottom jeans
and we know what groovin means
Puffed up hair, never square
peace was love and love was peace
and war was across the water
When you were fresh and I was lost in you
I close my eyes and I realize
1969
until the music stops
and drops me back to now
Flip the disc, and wish
your worries away for at least until side B is thru
download no mp3 for me
no blue tooth
ever since my youth
vinyl is final
You say look at this crazy old fool
lost in the past
oh how I wish it would last
1969
a time when I was yours and you were mine
hip huggers and bell bottom jeans
and we know what groovin means
tmc
Categories:
huggers, happiness, memory, remembrance day,
Form:
Free verse
T The wide belts, hip-huggers, bell bottom pants
H Hip people dress like Sonny and Cher
E Everyone loves Carol Burnet, Harvey Korman, and Bonanza
S Singers cannot compete with Barbara Striesand
E Everyone Knows Tony Orlando and Dawn
V Very important to move away from home at 18
E Every country music lover knows Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson
N New show about a single woman, featuring Mary Tyler Moore
T Too cute Marlo Thomas steals our hearts
I I am sorry to report we are still in Viet Nam
E Everyone sees Bette Midler, Tina Turner, and Robert Redford
S Suddenly everyone is wearing tops that look maternity
Categories:
huggers, nostalgia,
Form:
Acrostic
Phooey to Tree Huggers
By Elton Camp
Folks tell me how they like my new Bentley
It gets eleven miles per gallon, incidentally
Such a low rating is absolutely fine with me
Because I am a filthy rich so-and-so, you see
If gas goes to ten dollars a gallon, I don’t care
I have so much money it won’t make me swear
On the environment my car may really be rough
But my response to that is, “Well ain’t that tough.”
It has to be in extreme luxury and safety that I ride
And those whining environmentalists I can’t abide
Ride around in your tacky little hybrid if you will
For one rich as me, my Bentley exactly fills the bill
Don’t expect me to buy some tacky electric car
For I fear an extension cord won’t reach that far
We might run out of gasoline, is what you say?
What a laugh. We’ll never come to see that day
So please get your crummy Prius out of my way
As I’m planning on enjoying a fast drive today
Categories:
huggers, satire, me, me,
Form:
Rhyme
my little round sleepers
with lots of coats on, mud
huggers with a tribal bottom
perfectly lined up at the
bus stop of spring, soft
under cold loam, a miracle
despite the banality of hidden
numbers; time to drink tea
as I wait in a cooling garden
Categories:
huggers, autumn, creation, environment,
Form:
Blank verse
Pinky Purple is a gorgeous throwback to the sixties.
I penned her quickly, easily, with diamonds of ease.
Her worn blue jeans are bellbottoms, hip-huggers too.
She is perky and lovely, with fantastical eyes of blue.
She exudes love to friends and strangers alike.
There she goes to spread joy, she is on a pink bike.
Categories:
huggers, 2nd grade, 3rd grade,
Form:
Rhyme