Best Juiciest Poems
Oh, yes, Darling! Please meet me up the street, in fifteen minutes, right past the old tan house with that porch, bamboo.
We need to talk about things, you and me, without your mean relatives, and that includes your cousin Ted Stew.
I’d gladly trade this car for a completely untarnished marriage certificate, cleaned out of the day-old flu.
But, fiance’, dearest, you have yet to show me your love nest, your side honey, or your super-secret tattoo,
So now that you realize I might cost you money, you love me forever, and think you can let go and forget the Queen of Vooody-Voo- Doo?
Sure, Sweet Darling. Being pre reasonable, I would certainly like to review our marriageable status, and begin trusting you anew.
Of course, we had better hurry, so we get this trust thing sorted, and my family decides to re-include you,
I do not think any love-you-forever ceremony, fancy hall, or wedding vows I will seriously pursue.
If you decide to take the challenge, there on the steps wearing their juiciest smiles, are my mother, Grandma Kell and cousin Lou.
Sure, they do all have guns, permits, frying pans, and razors. Confidentially, they’re in a hum dinger of a stew about you too.
What more can I do, Sugar Bear? I’ve led you right to them, right up these pretty blue and white steps, and frankly, honey, it’s the best thing I could ever do.
So saying, I guess all my relatives are ready to talk and slap and pinch and punch, and fight and scrap, and kick, because they’re sort of mad you made me so blue.
Bye, Sweetie. I’m off for the weekend with my new honey, Rick, a gentle, kind, God-fearing man, who doesn’t want to stick around to see what they’re going to do.
Categories:
juiciest, 6th grade, 7th grade,
Form:
Monorhyme
You extend the juiciest of apples before my eyes
Imploring, "Come closer, love, and have a bite"
Eden is lost to us and it's too late for compromise
I'll not be tempted to savor forbidden fruit tonight
Your eyes flow with the passion you're needing
this last somber night we'll be sharing our bed
Saying no to you wounds my heart to bleeding
But I cannot give in, allowing it to rule my head
Your eyes burn in wildfires of your great want
But what they're not asking is for me to forgive
Memories of this night, in my dreams will haunt
until the time I close my eyes and no longer live
Your eyes search mine, hoping love is still there
How arduous a task for me to turn and look away
I'll leave quietly before sunrise, with you unaware
I whispered, "I still love you," while asleep you lay
Categories:
juiciest, sad love,
Form:
Rhyme
(continued from PART ONE)
Why I’ve seen him countless times, regurgitate old dog faeces onto fresh bread
And listened to his quiet voice exhorting me to do the same.
This fly was a born teacher.
There can be no greater accolade for a teacher than to be followed by his students.
He used basic good common sense, but spiced-up with a dash of excitement.
The well-known excrement-with-fried-egg, the easy-to-recognize urine-flavoured
Chips in the gutter, and the now commonplace saliva-over-spoon trick,
Are today almost standard delicacies for us all. Yet it was Hector who pioneered them.
He ignored the scorn and catcalls from younger flies, as he disdained a baby’s diaper
In some trash can, and went winging his way up to the second floor of the hospital
To select the juiciest old blood he could find.
No - Hector was independent, he was truly his own fly.
He stuck with pioneering ideas like the then-untested skid techniques
For escaping fly-swatters wielded in kitchens. It was Hector’s brave soul
Which brought standardized fly-patrols into being to catch a greater proportion of
Unsuspecting open-mouthed sleepers at night.
Uncle Hector went where no fly had gone before, and he did it with style.
He often said,“If you can make it on this heap of cat-dung, you can make it anywhere”
And there’s the lesson for us all today, ladies and gentlemen.
Let us not grieve for the loss of such a fine fly, but rather
Celebrate his life of discovery and progress. Let us go forth from this cat-crap
To a brighter future illuminated by the searching curiosity of Uncle Hector’s mind.
Younger generation, you must go forth boldly and find your own rotten cucumbers,
Your own half-eaten porkchops, your own dandruff-laden combs,
And be not afraid to mix them with relish as you choose from the delicacies
Of the knacker’s yard or the remains of a crow hit by a ten-ton truck on the road.
We stand - or hover - now in silence for one minute, as a token of respect -
And as we enjoy the gentle aroma of this cat-crap heap,
Allow the memory of Hector to inspire us.
God bless you all.
Categories:
juiciest, funnyold, old,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I remember those days of long summer
Oh, the joys of school summer vacation
Of playing hide and seek to endless hours
Pretending to slay the ferocious dragon
And to catch the notorious dacoit Ravan.
When all else played, at trees we looked up
In the hope to find the juiciest fruit mango
Now we looked down, mangos looked up.
Before I could satisfy my hunger with amigos
Were chased out by fuming gardener Rodrigo.
And still not giving up, seeking other means
To the neighbor’s fence we would climb over
Lurk in the shadows when all clear and clean
Obliged juicy fruits that calling us under cover
Less forbidding but exciting, if not any more.
+++++++
Form Quintain
Eighth place win
Contest: No.8 by Linda
Categories:
juiciest, childhood, humorous,
Form:
Quintain (English)
What ponderous rouge of Titian red,
Creations juiciest from an earthen bed.
From royal king to drunken red head,
The one fruit you truly never could shred.
Piquant and sour the need of the hour,
Without your ketchup? left partly fed.
Sometimes, well blanched and made into puree,
Enjoyed by both, the judge and the jury.
Stuffed with mincemeat or well mashed potato,
A good thick soup laced with ajinomoto.
The seeds could leave you petrified,
Some kidney stones well calcified.
With all his tangy and acrid ways,
Still finding his way onto salad trays
- Prince Freakasso(Artist & Poet)
Categories:
juiciest, food
Form:
Light Verse
to be a single woman in
america & aging to boot,
one must have breasts that sing to
the air (that never fall, that never
sag, that never do anything but
what the magazines show on
their covers).
to be a single woman in america
& aging, one must have an ass that
is firm (never dropping, never getting
too big, never getting too small,
always looking perfect in the tightest
of clothes, never doing a thing but
what the magazine covers say).
to be a single woman in america &
aging, one must have lips so lush that
they make one dream of the juiciest
fruits---they must have eyes that sparkle
like the sky or make one dream of the
deepest seas, all out of obligation to
whatever the magazine covers say.
to be a single male in america &
aging to boot,
one must have pockets that jingle,
that are flush with cash, that hold
a checkbook that never runs out of
checks---one must have a bank account
that makes Fort Knox look like a
Pez dispenser, so that they can make it
rain in the driest of places,
abiding by what all the magazines
say.
to be a single male in america & aging,
one must have property, one must have
assets, one must have a house in a different
area code gaining rental money, an apartment
in a tropical area, a mansion in the hills &
a place to “get away” from everything else,
hidden in an undisclosed location---
just like the television reveals,
just like all the playas in the videos &
the movies.
to be a single male in america & aging,
one must have a full head of bustling hair,
abs that one can scrub wet clothes on to
get off the dirt (or that can help whittle down
wood when one can’t find a knife),
one must have a gluts that can have quarters flipped
off them & biceps that can wrap around
& crush like the strongest python (bench twice
your weight, jump high, run fast, squat squat
squat & save the goddamn world)---
just like on the big screen.
Categories:
juiciest, life, woman, dream, america,
Form:
Free verse
All my life,All my days
Wolves and sheep alike flock with me
Like a magnet,they are drawn to me
Like bees,they swarm around me.
Sucking my honeycomb to Sahara
Like mosquitoes,they bite and go
but like Twist,they want more
Vampires,what a befitting title.
They've built roofless shelters
Right in the corner of my pocket,
the home of my juiciest fruit
believing in its strong cover,
when the rainy days roll in.
They milk me dry with their pincers,
Descending on my defenseless self
Pouncing on my vulnerability
Like a relentless leech,
they hold on to my apron.
Ripping me has become a hobby.
Till i am as dry as the fig,
my udder will be home to them.
Venomous blood sucking parasites
They will follow me to the end.
Categories:
juiciest, life, sad, sympathy, me,
Form:
Free verse
Better than
It’s better than chocolate cake
drenched in whipped cream
A day off to sleep in
almost until noon
A warm summer day
near a slow moving stream
The stars in the sky
and a smiling moon
The juiciest steak
prepared medium rare
Seeing my team
win the championship
Watching a kite
as it floats in the air
Making a milkshake
and taking a sip
A trip to the beach
with a cooler of beer
Skiing the slopes
on a fresh coat of snow
Expecting rain
but then finding it clear
It’s so much better
I want you to know
In case you do wonder
what all of this means
What you now see
in the phrases above
Nothing, not even
my wildest dreams
Could ever be better
than being in love
Categories:
juiciest, fun, happy, love,
Form:
Rhyme
I'd like to be sitting in a café in France
Eating strawberries and cream with you
I'd find the biggest and reddest and juiciest ones
And feed them to you off my spoon
After we'd stroll down the avenues and rues
The afternoon lazing away
We'd window shop arm in arm picturing you
In the finest of clothes on display
A flower I'd pick for your beautiful hair
To highlight it's shimmering hues
Have I ever told you how lovely you are?
I think perhaps I may have given some cues
Then when the afternoon cedes to the night
We'd dress up and go out on the town
Aglow with the aura from Paris's light
The flower becomes now your crown
Categories:
juiciest, dream, i love you,
Form:
Rhyme
Here lies beautiful Elysium
It shines from your brightest of eyes
Flutters lightly as you blink
And cures my most anguished of cries
Because love is a beautiful idea
Causes all anguish and pain
Removes all hopes and inhibitions
But I would go through it again
But no more of this love, unrequited
But it seems that its all that I get
I'll throw myself at it one more time
But I know it will lead to regret
Could you, or you
And your deceit and lies
Take pity on this fool
And show me loves juiciest side
I will not hold all these wild desires
I cannot stop this need to be loved
So my depravity knows no bounds
Till your grace falls from above
For here lies beautiful Elysium
It shines from your brightest of eyes
How long is this night without you
A wish, and a whirlwind of sighs.
Categories:
juiciest, lovebeautiful, beautiful,
Form:
Quatrain
Your small, fleshy, red fruit, hidden neath
your flesh, and the protuberance of your
smooth pit entice me into submission..
And your flavor is the sweetest, juiciest,
tastiest fruit ever..
Categories:
juiciest, lust,
Form:
Free verse
The house came with ghosts.
Not the subtle kind, either—no
wistful sighs or cool drafts,
just full-blown poltergeist tantrums.
Cabinets slamming at 2 a.m.,
spectral remnants of old arguments
rattling the windows, the smell
of burnt toast no matter
how thoroughly they scrubbed.
Still, the buyer had insisted,
"It’s got good bones."
And it was true: the skeletons
were stable in their stasis.
Antique mahogany banisters
curved like ribcages cradling
the heart of the house. Windows
leaded with panes' frames
mettle enough to turn an afternoon
light into prayers. A fireplace
cozy enough to roast the marrow
of an ox into paralysis without
its animal sense even noticing.
But bones have a way of remembering.
She hadn’t counted on the ruinous
creaks of staircases groaning
as if mourning her descent into ruts.
Nor the basement walls whispering
stock tips from the 1920s—sell
steel; buy radium.
She certainly hadn’t considered
the attic, where—let’s just say
she never liked Victorian dolls,
and now she likes them even less.
Why buy? Why outbid?
Pride, mostly. The rollercoaster
of the auction, the plummet
into calamity sweetened by
elbowing the slick realtor
with his laminated grin. The thrill
of the gavel’s fall, the weight
of a binding contract. She didn’t care
about the dangers of yellow wallpaper
or the weeds growing through the parlor floor.
She didn’t even really need shelter.
But sometimes the juiciest deals
aren’t made with forethought,
only with hunger.
And what’s the value of hunger
without a little haunting to shatter
your comfortable sense of status?
Categories:
juiciest, conflict, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Babylonia : Part Four - A Babylonian Paradise
Come in, come in, all are welcome!
Welcome to Babylonia! Welcome home.
Every animal is welcome here,
You can be yourself;
You have no need to fear.
Babylonia has always and shall always be here.
The place for all animals, when they wish to retire.
Tired of the rat race? Need something better?
Then Babylonia is for you friend, there is no place I’d rather
Spend the rest of eternity in;
I’d like to introduce you all to my wife and kids.
I am Groat, the goat and we have very lush grass.
Feel free to help yourself, to whatever you come across.
The world is your oyster; your greed is your clam.
This is paradise and you are all welcome.
Jungle to your left, ocean to your right;
Mountains beyond the valleys behind me.
Open your eyes to your new paradise!
Over a million trees and every day you will meet a new species.
It isn’t kill or be killed,
But I understand some of you have a need.
So hunt your prey,
Or raise a family.
Live your lives,
However you want them to be.
You can see through the water on a sunny day; I love the smell
And forget the pollution…This is Heaven, not Hell.
Whatever you wish for is yours if you can find it my friends;
But this Heaven is so large you shall never reach the end.
Eternal life here in paradise;
Generations of families sit together to talk at night.
Let us all be one great family,
Or let us all at least do as we please…
Then we shall be free.
The fruits of Eden’s vine are nothing compared to our fruit.
The juiciest, tastiest, manna sent from Heaven.
You are now all free to do whatever you choose.
I am simply here to welcome you all in…
My Friends;
The Animals.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Categories:
juiciest, animal, family, friend, heaven,
Form:
May God hear my prayer
That I achieve my goals today
I buff up my chest
In hope you find me the juiciest
And swallow me whole
My seeds will flourish
For I am about to commit suicide
In the name of God
I look forward to my heaven
As a grown up apple tree
Categories:
juiciest, appreciation, child, cute, funny,
Form:
Free verse
root faeries going wild are sniffing with hypersensitive noses today
seeking out the curliest, most delicious, juiciest vines, along the way.
consuming grasses and roots other animals cannot fathom eating for fun.
if we had feet, said the frightened rutabaga, I would say we had better run!
Categories:
juiciest, 2nd grade, 3rd grade,
Form:
Rhyme