Best Kicks Poems
flirting with haiku
but married
to the senryu
MagiCicada13
< just like football i am like the queen
now hand over remote or i'll scream
black and blue division
on my television
Kicking Jay Cutlers butt I do dream
Entry For
Kristen Bruni's
Football Contest
G.L. All
I know a bird who sways and swings
He jumps and kicks and flaps his wings
He cannot fly in stormy weather
He cannot strut his fluffy feathers
So instead he sits and sings.
Many people have their sports
Kicking balls of many sorts
but there's just one
I do real well
It's kicking zombies back to hell
Sol rises in all His splendor,
dissolving the darkness of the night.
And sunlight breaks o’er the horizon,
to announce the birth of Dawn;
while a brand new day begins.
Sunbeams dance across my eyelids,
blending purple, yellow, and tangerine
into a dream:
floating at the edge of awake,
where they can be seen.
Sleep slips away
as my mind welcomes the day,
basking in the tranquility
of the moment:
before reality kicks in.
Just like Emma Peel
kicking really, really high
the young lads watching
Avengers seeking justice
perhaps fancy unrealized
1 2 3 4 5 6
Oh how exciting! My how you kick!
1 2 3 4 5 6
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
This one will be in the starting 11!
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
1 2 3 4 5
That's it angel, rest now you're tired.
1 2 3
You're not being very active today
1 2
Is everything okay with you?
1
Was that a kick? Or was it a grumble.
I must call the midwife, make sure there's no trouble.
32 weeks, still so tiny, so small.
Nothing is as beautiful, nothing at all.
Counting the kicks, knowing your pattern,
Made me get help when it mattered.
Who knew Something so precious,
Could be so strong?
And Knew how to tell me something was wrong.
Now you can sleep,
Dream of calves, lambs and chicks,
We owe everything to
Counting the kicks.
Rabbit was my turtle who never won a race
Red is my fish but he's blue in the face
And I love my pets but they do no tricks
So I play all day and sleep at night with my sidekicks
My sidekicks~ Wa! Cha! My sidekicks~ Wa! Cha!
Sometimes we stand on bricks, play swords with sticks
Sometimes we have tools for fixin', lollipops for lickin'
But when it's time quit and switch, they're still my fav clique
My sidekicks~ Wa! Cha! My sidekicks~ Wa! Cha! (Chorus)
Smokey is my cat and I love him too
Got a little kitty, named her Crystal blue
And another fish in a bowl I call Fins
But they do no tricks, so I play with my sidekicks again
I got Teddy and Roy and my bulldog Bully
And at bath time I get to dunk my pal Sully
Then there's Croc but is he an alligator
And Fishy is orange, before I see you later
I gotta tell ya Mr. Duck is now Mr. Quacks
But my favs of all time is Tang Tang and Scratch
And though they're stuffed animals~ they do all the tricks
Like my play friend Jerry- they're my sidekicks
(Chorus)
A Song for my son Caleb at age 4
Minus adverse side effects
courtesy Ropinirole HCL
couple nights I did try,
albeit yours truly wanted to die,
plus also yearned tubby
among grrrrrreat full dead, no lie,
yes absent asthenia, fatigue,
and/or malaise oh my
nausea, vomiting, somnolence, dizziness,
and asthenic condition,
I woefully did decry
unconsciously kicking,
thrashing, twitching, wife kvetching
downing aforementioned medication
found me awry
beseeching psalm body
e'en the Sultan of Brunei
or sovereign from Abu Dhabi
to administer euthanasia,
I would willingly rectify
to bid good riddance and goodbye
experiencing said unpleasant reactions
listed above, hence death wish
of mine to comply
expressed modus operandi doth underlie
trawling the net whereby, to crucify
rigging (leg giddy met) i.e. legitimate
gofundme site could justify
assisted suicide recycling, reimbursing
repurposing... biodegradable cross -
guaranteeing faithful ethics to fortify
upon me rising masses will deify
an imperfectly square profane guy
skeptic at heart, unsure soul will go skyhigh,
or descend into Dante's inferno,
hmm... methinks hot meal my
olfactory organ doth nasally espy
summat good cooking, therefore aye
got hearty appetite unbearable symptoms
amazingly relieved, that scare did mortify,
now get secular humanist off doggone †
lest he gets cross and promises to nullify
future aery missions...
sidelining death, viz abort... fail... retry
else fans ye will need to pacify,
and posthumous rock star status
martyr on your stained hands
leaving widow whose syrup prize
zing tears unceasingly cry
without spouse to henpeck,
she cannot deny
cuz, body (mine), saintly
nicked peep pulled, tattooed
with apostolic marks
sharp nib she did apply.
I knew a wee man with a claim to fame
Who was on stage, Wee Willy was his name
He could do the splits
As well as high kicks
But wearing a kilt put his name to shame.
One doesn't need to explain reasons why
All is revealed when he kicks his legs high
What’s out on display
It swings either way,
Some ladies may cry, yet others sigh.
Once I remember he fell on his back,
The audience heard his scream and the crack,
But we were in luck
Wee Willy stood up
With his cracked back strapped to an ice pack.
As ice does, it melted there on the stage
Which had Wee Willy dancing in rage
But not only that
His ardour went flat
And his performance went down a grade.
heart swelling, beating hard,
that's when death kicks in,
took my heart and carved
a deep black hole,
guess I'm on a role,
everyman seems to detect,
this girl, self-centered and egoistic,
i guess i have this effect.
Billy kicked God
right in the shin
God did nuthin'
once again
Billy threw a punch
missed by a mile
God just laughed
without a smile
Billy got pissed
blamed it on him
God just shrugged
said your so dim
When asked why
God said listen Billy
your fighting no one
and lookin' pretty silly
I need a fix or ahm gonnae die
eyes drift open
and
already its
there that
horrible sick feel
crawling its way
up to my throat
the restlessness kicking
out from my knee
letting me know,
as this bully
holds me down,
but forces
me into
acknowledging
how subtly and masterfully my life
is now owned
with nose running,
head spinning
leg kicking,
stomach churning
mind wondering,
aches throbbing and
gut contents looking
to escape through to
their pipes quicker
than i can handle
“is there anything
under my
mattress? how
short am I?
are my tools able?
last time it was barbed
pulling my skin
ripping and tugging
blood from there
reminding me what
a fool I been
if no good who
is near I can
get a hit from
i need that thin
one to mill
my hope from a mix
of smack and water
and abdine with heat
through a *** end filter
drawing death on
the instal-
ment
plan
I need a fix or ahm gonnae die
I need to move and get
up but the terror grab-
bing my mind freaking
me out and convincing
me i’m going to die bef-
ore i can even get thro-
ugh the door im boxed
in by this fear in every
cell within capturing a
moment dragged out to
an eternity as climbing
the walls im draggin up
my feet to my chest and
terror grabs my throat I
don’t know what to do i
need a fix now so i drag
one foot now out to the
floor and put it down as
i force the other to foll
ow through, im pushing
the edge of my box and
then it kicks in my mind
sees the image of a wee
paper wrap just under it
near to where my hope
is sure that its gonna be
over real soon i can get
out of this box and rush
the terror and gut pull
and leg kicks and nose
runs and head knocks
i need my lighter and
spoon and so very soon
im gonna be fixed able
to get oot a this box and
oot a this room and oot
intae thae streets to get
mair cash oot a whaur
ever ah cin so ahm able
tae avoid the fear creepin
up oan me again.
ah hate bein strung oot
©Stuart Patterson 2019
Took a diet pill
Then ate a lemon pie
No, not a piece.
The whole thing,
and I ate it .....
Fast
Before the diet pill
Could kick in.
A sharp, harrowing burden
Fashions mirrors of fear
Virgin pages designed
From white nothingness
Tattooed by black teeth
Eyes everywhere
Bold, brave, and daring
To decode the freakish nature
Ascending from duplicity