Best Jigging Poems


Premium Member I Am --

My own gypsy roaming in countless hemispheres
A painter who splashes emotions of life’s tones
Maybe a lightkeeper flaming a child’s wonder
Also, a bookworm awed by enigmatic anti-heroes
My siblings’ event planner for grand occasions
Yes, a film buff loading adrenalin at plot’s turn
This off-key  singer come open mic time 
An insolent activist when values are compromised
My kin’s nervous wreck... afraid of heights
A non-stop dancer jigging even on tabletops!
Indeed, an angel card reader faking psychic powers
A believer of joy based on destiny number 7 
The female version of Pan trapped in child-like whims
An incurable romantic who dreads goodbyes
This poet draining the marrow of a parched pen
A meditation/ yoga soul grounded in nothingness
Thus, one pilgrim in search of my higher self’s grail


~ In my roller-coaster, charmed world, I am still
finding parts of myself that thirst to be known.


I AM Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
5/11/2020

Premium Member Tomato Wrist

Decisions-decisions
Do you take a job where it's always womb-warm 
working for dirty broken pennies
or poke around in the wind and cold 
for a taste of that sweet northern gold.

Do you marry the stable steady
with the ice box that's rarely ready.
or stick with the gold jigging, rock-sucking vagabond...

To take the shortcut through the war zone.
or go around the world just to get back home.
Do you turn the other cheek for eternity?
Or bash them in the skull and set yourself free.
Do you slowly yellow away
or tend to your wrist on a whim and call it a day?
                Decisions-decisions

Premium Member Imprisoned - Jun-Jun Villanueva

IMPRISONED     (collaboration)


by~  Jun-jun Villanueva

Urbane cavalcade - flaunt in gaiety
Warbling hymns in ego - cyclicity
Jigging gracile moves in vivacity
Relishing in zest in this gravity
Kinsfolk in flamboyant fete - oh its fate?
Smiles, elation in face delineate
Like nothing's wrong makes me exasperate
No one cares? No one adores? it's too late
Recurrent nightmares peeve me in sublime
Making incubuses remorse in rhyme
Bequeathing qualm, fright and fear - death like crime
Kith and kin in laughs while I'm in grave time...


by~ Poet Destroyer

Twittering chime parade of glee
Unspectacular weed flowing trough me.
Boxed in a box like a tick or flea.
No one understands- what they can't see!
Outside myself holding my breath-
Or should I say what is left?
Trapping torment with false courtesy.
Preexisted past, without certainty.
Locked in a sanctuary grave of ivory ribs,
My life in a vault- trashed crib.
Feet lashing against my skin.
Twirling the rootless valves of sin.
No one cares! No one adores!
My prison trash coffin brought ashore.


A collaboration with * Jun-jun Villanueva

My collaboration contest


Premium Member Juke Box Alliteration Sensation

One fleeting Friday Freda Foster fretted at the frog pond. She  said" This was suppose 
To be my day."
I said yeah, go on. "I've been invited to this gala affair at  THE JUKE
BOX JAM  owned by Sam and I simply have nothing to wear. The 
Next day Freda  tossed three torn jeans in the trash. Just then Jesse jumped
The juke box and did the jig James and Jonesy joined in, and Willy
Watched as he too started jigging, and he did the jig with Wendy.

It was a BLAST. They went up stairs and sat in chairs and played the
Juke box and did the jig real fast.  Talked all night about the jigful past
And other dances that last.
When they went home DAY break shown. It was so surreal. Next 
SATURDAY should be the same so socialize.  Jesse called Jonesy, 
Jonesy called James. A three way conversation of cordial contention.
"Hey man how do you feel?"  James asked  JONESY
"Man we went all night. I feel alright."
Jesse added "and I feel alright we jigged and we jived."
They agreed in unison. "The thing was live."
This coming Saturday we'll surely bring the girls yeah all
Three  JOLIE, JULIA, AND JUSTINE.  Yes, then we will all show for a 
Sensational Saturday. They all agreed next week SATURDAY will
Have swag, and swing and some swang and sway.

Will Freda and Freddie Foster follow? They're so funny. Those two
Are on the money.
Oh yeah. They'll be there.

Premium Member Zinnia

Zinnia…garland of evening; I
yield to such innocent blush;
xanthic as your  moonlight’s hue
winging along the  field’s  minty air--
vulnerable are those eyes that can
unleash a charm seen only by a few.
Time and again, a mild gloss
shimmers on your curved outline
releasing  petal drops ever
quietly : crepe tassels bobbing  to
peep among embroidered leaves
offering sweet incense for
nightfall’s prints etched  unto
meadows, wafting  with tuneful
lilts of stems bathed in dew.  Oh, you
kindle a twirl  with floral sisters
jigging daintily as if to pull me closer
in  a prance; the one I dream about
high on a wood’s lucent  trail.
Gently, my arms swing around, back and
forth until I lay on your zinnia  confetti
embracing my tingled flesh,  limbs,
deep within your moistened soil… oh how
corollas glaze into my Asian sky,
breathlessly dressed by night, leaves flickering
as you wave goodbye when summer ends!


-------------
First ever Z Y X contest
Sponsor: john lawless
10/12/2015

Premium Member Lunchtime At the Nursing Home

Hungry for munchies, on his way to the lunchroom, 
a rambunctious, persnickety,“fuss-budget”, elderly
jittery, fidgety, geezer, named Cassidy…
whose questionable dexterity, aghast by a massive sneeze,
teeter-tottered precariously. 
at the edge of the thingamajig, ...jigging one way, jagging the other!

Minding his own beeswax, without any rigmarole, 
topsy-turvy on his feet, he reached for the balustrade,
became quite flabbergasted, and very discombobulated 
when the doohickey provided for his ambidextrous aid
jiggled free from its screws, and found him footloose! 

It seemed the doo-dad, put there by some nitpicking pipsqueak,
some flat-footed, hooligan, who knew diddly-squat, who obviously,
recklessly, constructed a railing, only worthy for failing!

Such foolhardy shenanigans! Was it some practical joke
to lambaste aged codgers, eliminate lodgers, and boondoggle the old folks? 
Cass, was an old rabble-rouser, considered a blabbermouth, 
was thrown off his epicenter, while his cane went a'sailing, appendages flailing 
Onlookers, were outraged, ....in stage of amazement
but  laughs grew contagious, and cock-eyed hilarious!

Those carpetbagger carbuncles of society….can’t stop this old fogy
Cass, brushed off his hinny, would not be blind-sighted..
Barbaric bedevilment, won’t halt his felicity!
Some even predicted, with his acid tongue lashings, and his eccentric behavior,
he would stir up entanglement, kibosh the haranguers
and strangle the caboodles, who hooted and hollered!

His face turned beet red, but no meltdown,......instead
He held his chin high
to the dining room, ahead....he ordered French bread
Ordered some bouillabaisse, toasted with balderdash and a shot of rye
He dined with the multitudes, ordered some strudel, and one snicker-doodle
Then he told folks a riddle, "There was a man with a cane, who slipped on a noodle,    a handrail came loose, he injured his caboose….and cooked his goose!"
.....................................................


Premium Member Windbound On Wassaksina - Expanded

I cannot lie, I’m not that spry 
still angling is my game 
but never had luck with walleye
pickerel by Ontario's name.

We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.

Wasaksina Lake up Temagami way
has  a wicked western fetch 
there's trout, pike and bass, but hey
was walleye we came to ketch.

We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.

Came  in late fall, paddling two  canoes
made camp on the big middle isle
then west wind blew and waves tall grew 
we knew we were there for a while. 

We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame..

Grub was short so we fished the lee
in hopes of a good fish fry
jigging for a few crappie
but felt the tug of a good walleye

We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.

The fish it started a good strong run
to the screech of my fishing reel
if we lost the lee, knew we were done
tightened drag to bring fish to heel

We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.

The reel smoked, thought all was lost
but then the fish she turned
slack line, a gust, canoe was tossed
empty hook was all returned.

We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.

Premium Member Flamenco In Sevilla

Sevilla, the evening pins flowers on your hair
A pirouette of tasselled gown rustles by
Igniting a lusty swirl along theater’s wing,
Over spotlights on red liquefied hips
That kiss of flamenco gyres into a dance ;
Relishing the wine which drips as you lift
And tap those feet through moonshine’s gloam:
O, such swaggers devour my senses
While Latin music sets the castanets ablaze--
Then a pause, a sensuous movement, jigging.

Sevilla, you are a luscious pageant of a song,
A brief canticle gliding on my bones, that I
Fondle you in the dark    caressing scented nape:
What endless thrill you bring on an August dusk!
Then together drunken madly ,   recklessly 
I will be  love's sunrise, and you my finale's art,
As  this heart etches a twirl in flamenco sighs,
Clinging to each refrain of such possessed trance.



For Silent One's Contest:
Poems That Paint a Picture-3    9/24/2017
~ a most memorable dinner in Sevilla
watching a Flamenco concert~

Die the Death

DIE THE DEATH!
(Dona eis requiem sempiternam)

Die the death and transcend vanity
O poor vernal flesh and bone,
Waned out of this primal valley
And sink like the moon beyond the coast.

All expectations, ‘tis the greatest
Reclined at the backdrop of the heart’s throb,
Relegated by mortal necessities in crest
Clouded by mist as the shrouding robe round a knob.

Farewell thee, to vanish from eyes.
Fear not, minds still shall keep thee
Though a while, less a bother to human plight,
The dire need for yen, companion and spree.

The undertakers trades fare supreme
And mourners sonorous rhymes are music prime;
Downing the lees of wine to spike faces grim
With throbbing drums, jigging feet and chime.

Great the awaited moment to close the eyes
And farewell the world with all her bother.
A descendance is paramount than to rise,
To die to live than live to die is best order.

Great ease is the last prize to pay
And refund the muck to its source beneath
Nothing else abide but merry mongers sway
Over nourished ordure, once a breath.

Why not sadness at the joyful tale of birth
And merriment at the woeful news of death?
Onward would be to the backyard of earth,
From incubi, toil and deformed breath.

Night veil drawn over our visibility,
In twinkle the pupil dilate a life span’s knell
Wedge in limbo, shrouded by mystery,
Knowledge only worms and flies can tell.

What need of life, fun, food or friendship?
All but a three episode script of dharma:
Ignorance precedes pain and then comes sorrow,
As circadian sculptor pruned our feature.

No mint can purchase back days gone by,
Neither riches to reverse a twinkle;
For a lifelong tie earn a profound sigh,
A spot on shoreline washed by sprinkles.

Poison, sickness, circadian effect and accident
Are final returns wherein all expectations lie.
Rather in life, in death is its fulfillment
And no further businesses have I but to die!

' Feel Like a Trash '

Urbane cavalcade - flaunt in gaiety
Warbling hymns in ego - cyclicity
Jigging gracile moves in vivacity
Relishing in zest in this gravity
Kinsfolk in flamboyant fete - oh its fate?
Smiles, elation in face delineate
Like nothing's wrong makes me exasperate
No one cares? No one adores? it's too late
Recurrent nightmares peeve me in sublime
Making incubuses remorse in rhyme
Bequeathing qualm, fright and fear - death like crime
Kith and kin in laughs while I'm in grave time...


========================================
*rhyme (with ten syllable count )
jun-jun villanueva
july 30,2011

*********************************************

It really annoys me when this nightmare always visit
me in my bedtime ... this thing is my fright to happen
~~~~dying like no one cares ~~~~

' Imprisoned In My Self-Imposed World '


*^*

====================


Urbane cavalcade - flaunt in gaiety
Warbling hymns in ego - cyclicity
Jigging gracile moves in vivacity
Relishing in zest in this gravity
Kinsfolk in flamboyant fete - oh its fate?
Smiles, elation in face delineate
Like nothing's wrong makes me exasperate
No one cares? No one adores? it's too late
Recurrent nightmares peeve me in sublime
Making incubuses remorse in rhyme
Bequeathing qualm, fright and fear - death like crime
Kith and kin in laughs while I'm in grave time...
Storm clouds nestling Earth crying myriad tears
Totem poles stand like Death’s coming soon – near
Feeling of being neglected –in fear
Am I really being loved? Cry? can’t hear. . .

================================================

Imprisoned

IMPRISONED     (collaboration)


by~  Jun-jun Villanueva

Urbane cavalcade - flaunt in gaiety
Warbling hymns in ego - cyclicity
Jigging gracile moves in vivacity
Relishing in zest in this gravity
Kinsfolk in flamboyant fete - oh its fate?
Smiles, elation in face delineate
Like nothing's wrong makes me exasperate
No one cares? No one adores? it's too late
Recurrent nightmares peeve me in sublime
Making incubuses remorse in rhyme
Bequeathing qualm, fright and fear - death like crime
Kith and kin in laughs while I'm in grave time...


by~ Poet Destroyer

Twittering chime parade of glee
Unspectacular weed flowing trough me.
Boxed in a box like a tick or flea.
No one understands- what they can't see!
Outside myself holding my breath-
Or should I say what is left?
Trapping torment with false courtesy.
Preexisted past, without certainty.
Locked in a sanctuary grave of ivory ribs,
My life in a vault- trashed crib.
Feet lashing against my skin.
Twirling the rootless valves of sin.
No one cares! No one adores!
My prison trash coffin brought ashore.


~~~~~an entry for " POET DESTROYER's MY COLLABORATION CONTEST"

Premium Member Joy and Jinks

JOY and JINKS
                                  

                  Jolly jocund jubilant Jack Frost wearing thick jacket
                  joyfully jumped sharp on snow losing jade-locket                              
                  Jolted backward by snowstorm yet looked jovial.
                  Jeered on a jetty jackal rushing from jungle, not trivial.
                          
               Junior Jack in jean- jersey with sister Jill Joined to skate.
               Jim Jogged, carrying jars of jam, jelly, jaggery in basket.
              Jingle bells ringing, Jack jigging, drinking juice from jug.
              Joe, friend of Jack drove jerking jeep, met Jack, gave hug. 
                          
              John, a Joker cum juggler catching and throwing snowballs 
              Jupiter-Juno both jocose junketing under heavy snowfall.  
              Jewel thief Jacob fell on snow, picked the lost jade-stone.
              Javelins- throw on snowy field managed by Jacqueline alone.
                         


  12/17/20
                                                     Second Place

    Alliteration   Contest by Eve Roper
                                                                Second Place
   Podium Placing Promise (6) Contest by Brian Strand.

Premium Member After the Storm

After the storm eased slowly
Big waves smashed against the shore
Causing havoc everywhere
Drinking more than he should
Eating until stuffed
Feet sliding everywhere
Grabbing at straws
He caught on to what he could
Into the sea he waded
Jigging about he got soaked
Keeping to his feet only just
Looking everywhere
Masts in the distance
Nothing else out there
Or not that he could see
Perhaps a castle far away
Queen could be dining
Royal banners flapping
Swimming towards it
Took a long time
Under the spell
Victory not clear
Washed up on the shore
Xebec sailing past
Yacht moored near by
Zanzibar in the distance

Friday Feeling - Jigging - Reeling

JIGGING - REELING

Friday, got that wild anticipated, weekend feeling.
Respite, two days of fun, jigging, reeling.
Ireland, weekend free, looking at the cealing!
Dreaming, still Friday, concealing, appealing,
a weekend with no stock and share dealing.
Yes, Friday a faint memory, on stage, jigging reeling!

#Friday #feeling - #Poetry Contest, sponsored by Silent One

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