Best Lengths Poems
Upon those who yield to anger, I should take pity
because words they spit are like sandpaper, gritty.
A loathsome temper causes them to fume and fret,
sometimes churlish ones spew what they will regret.
Restraining venom is an idea some are unable to grok.
Fury is the key to a door they have no right to unlock,
for they seek revenge when it is not theirs to take.
Hissing like the demon who was disguised as a snake.
It's amazing to what lengths their bitterness will go.
Look into their eyes and you'll see their malice grow.
A hostile fire-breathing dragon is an ignorant beast
who will spend all its time eating outrage at a feast.
They wear the weight of vitriol like a boa of albatross
when it should be thrown away. In the sea given a toss.
A temper makes foolish ones lose all sense of reason.
They may even betray themselves in an act of treason.
Rancour can be an anchor that drowns them in the sea
if they cannot cut the chain that would set them free.
It's evil to prick as a sharp thorn in someone else's side.
Irascible people are those most nice folks cannot abide.
If they continue to blow on smoldering embers of a fire
they will be burned by the contentiousness of their ire.
They should douse all glowing cinders within their soul,
to loosen shackles of angst and keep anger under control.
My dear brother Butch,
Hair are the highlights of my week:
I got a job at the Hairway to Heaven salon!
Our motto: "We color your hair or dye trying"
When the interviewer said "I mustache you a question..."
I answered, "May I mullet over?"
Seriously, working there is a shear delight,
with some nice fringe benefits
They're a real cut above the rest
and I shave a lot of money on hair products...
I bought Dad a comb for Father's Day… I bet he'll never part with it
It is a long drive to the salon, but now I know all the short cuts
Oh hey, I know hair-growth seminars are not your style, but
call up your receding hairline buddies and comb on over!
It was great to see you last week, you are looking so trim!
I still feel terrible about the curling iron incident…
You can rest a-sheared I'll straighten it out
but I mussed warn you, you might get fro straighted
Just remember, $15 for a hairpiece is a small price toupée
You may not like short hair at first, but it will grow on you
...that's the mane thing
Did you hear Mom and Dad had a brush with death?
It was a very hairy situation with a real twist:
buzzing down the highway at a decent clip
someone tried to cut them off
Mom was ready to wig out, curl up and dye, but thankfully
Dad went to great lengths to avoid an accident
so there was no permanent damage
you had to see it to be-weave it
Ok, time for a couple of jokes to lighten the mood:
How does the man on the moon trim his hair?
Eclipse.
Why did Pavlov have such fabulous looking hair?
Conditioning.
Why do felines groom with their tongues?
They can't find their catacombs.
Why did the little girl watch "Black Stallion" more than "Babe"?
She liked pony tales more than pig tales.
What was the barber's sign before he went on vacation?
"Hair today, gone to Maui"
Did you hear about the novelty store selling fake piles of dung?
It was sham poo.
Just teasing!
Take hair,
Curly
There was a time when I was young
To share an era that begun
From music to the fashion trend
TV shows and history
Fads and other mysteries
I saw them all as time moved on
From classic pop to rock and roll
Bill Haley and the Elvis craze
And four years in my Air Force phase
But Jitterbug still hung around
The big bands had that unique sound
Time moved on to start the clock
European cinema
Fellini, Bergman made the mien
And Japan added to the pie
To film The Seven Samurai
Brando, Newman and James Dean
newly captured on the screen
Television's Golden Age
All the programs set the stage
For Gunsmoke and the Twilight Zone
I love Lucy, I married Joan
TV tubes were changed a lot
Wrestling shows were really hot
Mantle, Mays and Robinson
Took baseball to another rung
The coonskin cap and hula hoop
Duck tail hair and snapper soup
I wore one with a thick pomade
And ate the soup that Momma made
My fashion sense left much to judge
As if I had good taste for fudge
Pegged pants with a six inch rise
Ladys skirts were different then
Lengths that came down to their shins
Three inch higher was a sin
Still dirty minds existed then
In Belgium back in 58
I saw an exhibit on that date
The Sputnik with a cute stray dog
was launched so high up in the air
Before the U.S. could get there
Then the race to conquer space
McCarthy hearings, lives destroyed
The Cold War was our only plight
The Commies kept their nukes in check
And Castro entered on the scene
There were no hot wars left to fight
Days still continued as well as night
I share a new millennium
But today the future's not so bright
No more long hand, the laptop's here
Facebook and Twitter have conquered our sphere
The death knell has tolled for how life was then
Rekindle your past and live again
Ralph Sergi February 19, 2015
Decades by Kelly Deschler
Chandelier earrings dangling
Golden bangles jingling
Thick long raven hair
Twisted and pinned in swirls
With ornate gold embellishment
Luxuriously wrapped
In silk and brocade
Lavish lengths
Of rich flamboyant colors
Parading effortlessly
Their exotic saris
Swaying in graceful rhythm
Gliding by on air
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~NAMASTE~ 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on June 17, 2019 for contest YOUR CHOICE (10) IMAGIST STYLE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 3RD
~
Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls
You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet,
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon
Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us
Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own
Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty
Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth,
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations
Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings
I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers
And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love
~
It is an unusually cold morning here so
I thought I would repost this and warm
the place up a little. : )
I’m a simple sinner
Saved by God’s grace
I’m not always a winner
In the righteousness race
I’m a simple sinner
Who reaches toward the light
More like a beginner
Than one who is in a fight
I’m a simple sinner
Filled with love from above
God’s living quiver
Who knows more about love
I’m a simple sinner
One who knows I’m wrong
I don’t let it make me bitter
But pray it makes me strong
I’m a simple sinner
Alive with the living word
I’m definitely no quitter
From the Savior, I’ve heard
I’m a simple sinner
Willing to go to any lengths
In order to be a true giver
Of all that God grants me in strengths
I’m a simple sinner
Who welcomes God’s inspiration
From others I may differ
In my love for God’s creation
That's on me
By Dustin Branum
9/14/26
And they will never know the lengths I go
No fault of mine, they respectfully declined
And they will never know the pain I know
No fault of mine, they're lost and blind
And they will never know the love I show
No fault of mine, my love is strong and divine
And they will never know the things I know
No fault of mine, my knowledge grows like a vine
And they will never know the hate that grows
No fault of mine, my anger is mine
They must never know the things I know
How far I'll go to keep from show
This pain I know, this terrible glow
That burns my soul, the hatred I have for you all
The love I have to give, I gave it all
The terrible tragedy that they all saw
No fault of mine, I really tried to save you all from me
But you just wouldn't leave me be
My demons, my misery, my hate, I'd hide
Yet you begged of me to conquer and divide
To take my knowledge of power and just let it devour
The hatred you caused me to spill along with my blood you see
It's not about you, it's not about me
It's about Destiny
Why can't you see?
Sawing logs, one after another
Into two feet lengths
Just for the specific purpose
Of standing them up on the ground
Awaiting the iron axe
That will create a comforting
Roaring fire in the hearth
Come this winter’s cold
Canning fruits and vegetables
To store on the shelves
Awaiting the moment in time
When they’ll be lifted out
And opened slowly, carefully
With appreciation for the color
The scent and deliciousness
Of a homegrown and canned food
Cutting down hay in the field
Tractor moving slowly, assuredly
Taking the blade to the grass
Green and pungent scented
Covering the field with what will
Be racked up into piles for
Baling and creating a treasure
For the barn to store for cattle
"Thursday’s Windows"
the view
from the other side
open wide
watching
other stories
unfold
write their worlds
upside down
their concert
sung to mirrors
none fair of face
and most,
far to go
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living.
And the child born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, good and gay.”
"The Light and the Dark of it. Some people will go to extraordinary measures for redemption. Some people go to extraordinary lengths for Love. Some will call it courage. Others will denigrate the truth of the fall in delivery as foolish. There are benefits to falling, to the breaking: beginning, middle, end. If not the whole, you cannot see but a part of yourself in others, then there is something vitally humane missing in you. No matter how clean and worthy you deem yourself. You are Godless."
< Cascading lakes and streams
The loon stands out it seems
Minnesota's state bird
I know it must sound absurd
Adopted in nineteen sixty one
Wails and yodels heard under the sun
Black and white bearing red eyes
Wingspans five feet can make one cry
Body lengths up to three feet
Yet clumsy on lands and moss peat
They are high speed flyers
And great underwater divers
They can dive up to ninety feet
In pursuit of fish they want to eat
They are even on our license plates
An critical habitat drawn on metal slates
Twelve thousand of these unique birds
God that has to be a lot of turds
But for now I'll enjoy it's captured views
Of this beautiful loon and it's most colorful hues
Written By Katherine Stella
Entry For Mini - Blog Beautiful Bird Contest
By Constance ~ A Rambling Poet
Time to head off to the gym, for my daily work out session
Tummy bulging, thighs are wobbling, my body is in regression
Once I was toned and oh so slim
But the lure of sweets just sucked me in
Chocolate and biscuits are my downfall
A bag of ‘Minstrels’ I will eat them all
Here in the gym I am working up a sweat …
Sweets and chocolate I must forget
So I do my aerobics class and then have a swim
Do fifty lengths – oh I must be getting slim
Then off for a circuit class, oh I do work hard
For I want to look so sexy in my purple leotard
After all that exercise I’ve worked up a healthy appetite
Grab a bag of fries – no wonder my clothes feel so tight!
06~15~15
Sweats and Sweets Contest – Olive E Guillermo
Poetry is... Art
by Amy Swanson
Poetry comes in all
shapes
sizes
colors
surprises
varieties
lengths
flavors
styles
About all kinds of
feelings
thoughts
emotions
moods
people
foods
societies
animals
nature
It can be
long
short
rhyme
prose
haiku
quatrain
free verse
narrative
sonnet
footle
senryu
tanka
epulaeryu
.... and so many more-!
Poetry's authors are
from everywhere
all ethnicities
women
men
girls
boys
young
old
adults
kids
tall
short
thin
heavy
average
brunette
redhead
blonde
raven-haired
white-haired
gray-haired
or even no-haired
Poetry is
abstract
or
concrete
playful
or
serious
light-hearted
or
strongly stated.
It is about
anything
everything
nothing
and in-between.
It is
word art
from the heart.
It can make you
happy
sad
thoughtful
mad
excited
or even goo-goo eyed!
Poetry ... just is.
There is only one thing
Poetry is not ...
cookie-cutter
same-old-all-the-time-heard-it-all-before
cookie-cutter.
Each verse as unique
as the heart that wrote it
Each line as unique
as the soul that felt it.
And so
simply said:
Poetry is... art.
Can't recall the last time
if there ever was a time
~
where deep thoughts penetrated
the lengths of my night
pain always pulling
throbbing
me out of a dream
no fantasy no steam
no statisfaction
of a lip licking need
but there I was
naked under cover
of your watchful eye
a most longingly eye
"birds dipped their wings
in the lucid flow of air"
and the fire was burning near
I touched your soul
(it was warm)
along with your heart
as I inched deeper and deeper
into your seams
kisses were savoured
you nibbled relentlessly
upon my grace
I felt your face
etched in my mind
and I smelled your skin
not dripped with perfume
but with love and eternal care
I could not help but disappear
again lost within your lair
and as there I laid
I drifted peacefully with the birds
watching
Dawning Desires
Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls
You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet,
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon
Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us
Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own
Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty
Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth,
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations
Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings
I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers
And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love
Good morning Soupers
One Senior’s Sonnet
The feelings are frozen, fetid in time,
Decisions denied to the dwindling mind;
Possibilities piling like lengths of twine;
Acceptance of aging cannot be blind.
Duties demean while trying to hold on;
Where hides the help while faculties dim?
Will compassion kindle the fire now gone?
Can joints jump for joy in arthritic limbs?
The sun is sinking in a twilight red rest.
Peace being pursued is allowed conquest.
And tasks like talisman line up in rows
In order opting one by one were chose.
The frightening fear of morning’s trembly dawn,
With prayer and persistence is dead and gone.