Best Lounger Poems
The sun blowtorches its way into the water,
fragments, and the bottom is an aqua sky
webbed by white-hot lightning.
Here and there, legs hang like halved mannequins
disappearing into a squiggly-bright ceiling,
through which you can make out
the slurred shape of a poolside palm tree.
The deep, guttural grooon-grooon of
the water’s stomach growling is all you hear,
dredging up a similar sound from your subconscious,
last heard while you were immersed, long ago,
in another fluid world.
The water suddenly internal-combusts
in a tangle of arms and legs,
flailing in a fizz of a million tiny bubbles,
some kid having just somersaulted into the blue.
Soon, another’s face splashes down before you,
slightly albino in the shining water,
bug-eyed with silvered goggles
like a child alien from a waterless planet
discovering buoyancy.
Then you realize it’s your own kid,
wobbling from side to side,
toothy, hair waving like smoke
as he dog-paddles away.
You come up for air, breaching the surface like a
graceless dolphin,
and clarity hits your ears,
a momentarily soundless din.
You can already feel your skin heating up
in the blast furnace above water,
confusing because there are beads
running down your face and neck, cold.
You suck a lungful of air and push yourself under again,
but not before catching a glimpse of your wife
drowse-browsing a magazine on her sun lounger,
and the two umbrellas,
the big one shading the miniature one
stuck in the snowy slush of your pina colada.
"The World wouldn't be the same without me,
And without You! " (by Poet)
Dawn!
The most cherished part of my day!
Usually I glimpse through the window from my bed,
And wish for a few more hours of sleep!
Some days, when I don't have to, I get up
And perch on the Muskoka lounger in my backyard,
Enjoying every second, every minute of that surreal experience!
I am a part of this wide, magical Earth,
Part of that celebratory moment!
The World wouldn't be the same without me,
And without You!
Azure unfathomable sky, with a mix of gorgeous red from the East,
Sometimes it's just a dot,
Like a red dot on the forehead of an enchanting woman from the Orient,
Then it grows bigger and bigger, enveloping the horizon,
A few white clouds floating, carefree, like my favourite Kash flowers,
Our great creator has announced his arrival, but hasn't arrived yet.
Some days, it's still unilluminated and unusually mysterious,
Awed, I gaze at the sky from my bed,
Stars still blinking,
Dark sky studded with millions of them,
Each one has a poignant story to tell,
Very strangely A Full Moon, round and silvery,
Refuses to disappear,
Although her contender is about to rise.
I am mesmerized!
First Place
The World Without You - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Burl
A row of jazzy underwear
Wafts gently in the breeze
Pegged to the clothes line
Strung between two trees.
A garden brolly provides
Shade from the evening sun,
Chickens scratch the earth
In their wire netting run.
The cockerel struts his stuff through
The chicks of this years hatch,
Beans and peas and potatoes
Grow profusely in their patch.
Veggies for the table
All home grown
In what I've always wanted
A garden of my own.
Discarded children's toys
Are scattered on the green
But the kids are in bed
Quietly sleeping so not seen.
Blue Geraniums are covered
By wasps and bees and flys
Flitting to and fro for pollen
All sights restful to the eyes.
A summer Friday evening,
A whole weekend ahead
Stretched lazily in my lounger
In my hand a glass of red
Contemplating life, counting
All my blessings one by one
Hoping the rest is as good
As as that already gone.
In my little country garden
Resting in the shade
My loved one by my side
I've really got it made.
Next week is round the corner
For now just living for the day,
This gentle summer breeze
Blowing all my cares away.
The summer sun has lost
its gloss and warmth
And falling leaves are forming
baron tree's
Whilst snow crystals blanket
them in white
And the laundry on the washing
line now takes oh so long to dry
And i haven't taken an
antihistamine in quite a while
Or sat outside on my garden lounger
or opended up the umbrella
And the watering can is just
quietly sat in contemplation
gathering rust and moss
Nature is in the throes of re-gifting
Yet still takes a moment to leave
a parting gift behind of a
christmas tree for us all to
gather around and decorate
As I laze on my lounger
on a warm June day,
I hear
a choir of bees bumbling,
wind lisping through leaves,
doves cuddling, courting,
the chink of cups
tea pouring,
birdsong circling,
the cat purring
and I close my eyes
daydreaming
as
I wish
I was the yellow rose
wrapped around the bower
surrounded by budding friendships
so sweetly scented.
I wish
I was the purple clematis
dawdling on the trellis
sipping on sweet raindrops
cupped deep in her bosom.
I wish
I was the pink snapdragon
Peeping through the lavender
bees buzzing her,
gossiping all day long.
I wish
I was a raspberry
snoozing in the bushes,
plump ruby lips
ripe with juicy kisses.
I wish
I was the red maple
long glossy hair
tossed curls tumbling free
flowing with the breeze.
How nice to wake up
to my darling asking
“do I wish
to have a cup of tea.”?
I reply,
I wish.....
MMC © 2011
Ahhhh...they make me so mad:
A fool, a buffoon, an unruly lad,
A prankster, a trickster, a tattler,
A gigolo, a lounger and an idler;
An impostor, a pretender and a loafer,
A party crasher, a tailgater and a golfer,
A boondoggle or a task of a tall order,
And the deals done under-the-counter.
I often tear my hair out at a silly pun
Or at a smart aleck who can outrun,
A hoax or a scam drives me crazy
that is absurd, witless or sleazy.
But look into my eyes lovingly
And whisper sweet nothing softly,
Hold my hands and be pretty sexy,
And oh...Man, I'll just go crazy!
I'm so annoyed contest by Mary Oliver Rotman
Ahhhhhh.... they make me so mad!
A fool, a buffoon, an unruly lad,
A prankster, a trickster, a tattler,
A gigolo, a lounger and an idler;
An imposter, a pretender and a loafer,
A party crasher, a tailgater and a golfer,
A boondoggle or a task of a tall order,
And the deals done under-the-counter!
I often tear my hair out at a silly pun
or at a smart aleck who can out-run,
A hoax or a scam drives me crazy
which is absurd, witless or sleazy.
But look into my eyes lovingly
and whisper sweet nothing softly,
Hold my hands and be pretty sexy
And oh ... Man, I’ll just go crazy!
~"What Annoys You?" contest by Frank Herrera.
Bilocating bison on a leopard printed dash to save the whale. When money is organic and organs play. Sunbathing on a nightshift is never that clever in a see through nightgown. Plus the sheer fact that oversized condoms in snake print disgust a dusty floor as particles like to be pretty not putrid. So now all rise for the ashtray is arriving. Waving its arms in royal glory. Seeking no mere mortal yet mightily sought after are the military beaded garments and tiaras if ornately placed tea leaves. High teas are often a process of giggle gaggle goose. Necks upright and always figures of eight in jars. Popping popping Polly pearls adjudicated wisdom and wealth in a home of no domestic chores. Like the queen ant on a sun lounger. Aim not a ten foot arrow at a bean plant as bags could fall treacherously on the A42 at sunset time. Adjust not a pea whose shell has slipped. Instead allow it to grow in a very large pothole. Portrayed wrongfully are those who follow the righteous path of ancient seed. Pay no attention to the Jacobean words of weblike and paper existences for they are to be exterminated soon. The falling of tge tenth moon. The mountain if Orion. Worship not a beetle eyed man. And beg nothing of insects who cackle in chambers creasing flows. One must utilise the potency of a very large iron. Pink placed Puffin pleases pleides. Xx designation. Xx clap xxxx sap sip spit supping slurping slop. Xxxx worldly whirls xxxx calisthenics xxxxx ha ha ha... Xx deliberation
Eyes close head tilt back...
As I arrived out of thin air
the sand was warm to touch
the tide rush in from the shore
water cool as it covered my feet
rays from the sun heat my skin
I searched for a lounger under a tent
table had a tray of things to enjoy
shades, fruits, books, and glass of ice
cooler with bottled wine and water
warmth and peace was my intentions
I exhaled my tension about winter blues
chose to open water and tasted fresh fruit
poured wine on sphere shaped ice cubes
put on shades, selected a book, and relaxed.
the group,some chicken soup.the loop i was on.busted lawns with a fawn.she said she fed
while i was in bed.letters in the head turn,lovers learn how to spell burn with lips quiver.i did
not give her directions to infections,but yea,she found mine,floating lost land mines that by
design kill time while intertwined.the fine neaunce of her beauty body,love give me
naughty,the thought we conjour,up on a lounger i hear her drowned her fear.yall get out of
hear.mist,do spill on a lovers kill.go,go,to a more important show.
A frilled lizard is not easy to hide.
And she is bossy, mean sometimes.
There is one hiding behind my lounger now.
Waiting for me to put down the TV remote.
If she gets it she will take it back to Australia
On the next cruise liner.
I act nonchalant as I put my TV remote
Smoothly into a little drawer.
Her claw comes up and she scrapes me one
On my right arm.
I deserved it.
Nells has no idea how appealing she is.
Not caring about her appearance like other girls.
She throws on a tribal cat suit and lies in a plastic lounger
Reading a stack of scientific journals.
When she gets up and walks around men notice her curves.
And her bouncy attitude, and her joy
She does not see her observers at all.
Not in the mood for wooing or romance
She is studying to be a doctor or a biologist
Some try to bribe her brothers
To try and get a date.
But that goes nowhere too.
She is their little sister.
They see her as three-years-old
A bibliographic oceanographic espionage is merely a tidal titan in a mesmerising swimsuit sipping tequila sunrise on a pool side sun lounger on a large eighty foot yacht. Tactless men who smear defecation in print are quite often timely reminders of the inportantance of inner self. Not an imports range. Nor a grangefield lodge. But a ehim of a wielding whisker in a wicker basket carrying a lot of water. Very safe isn't it? Catacomb no category cat. Nor catfish. For an exploding beef bomb is just not pleasant. Especially at sea. Always wavering when wielding. But also watching. So take no curly eyelashes yo a discordant discotheque for the apples are waiting for your call and the contour caress of an old anticipated fantasy adventure. So no I can't carry amy more then 87 thousand pickles I'm arrived. Topic shut. Starboard saving ships. Fry fish then with or without icing? Hahaha balancing a bingo hall on a head holding a gong. Hahah interesting. Hahaha justification z. P y q was reporting from land of hooverfield. Z
when my winnings hit the news, relatives climbed into my windows.
great aunts and uncles, sixth cousins, uncles twice removed.
some families stormed over to demand their due with no connection.
you remember me – yes, I do, the neighbor who never waves back
heard hard luck stories that topped one another fast and furiously
I bought myself a new identity, new face, new name.
had to leave my family behind because they did not want new faces. I
I left half my winnings with them, as that was fair.
ex-husband keeps calling me, begging me to take the money back.
he has big trouble since the divorce settlement was announced.
I am in the Bahamas where there are no crying children or ex's.
a good looking man in lying the green plastic beach lounger.
I suck in my stomach and try to look chic.
He smiles and I smile.
He has great teeth and a sweet tan.
“Hey, aren’t you that gal who won the lottery?”
So the shape
Of the poem
Does not have
To be the subject
Of the poem.
Aha! Got it. After reading the rules twice, and then thrice, as I did not believe myself the first time or two. But what to write? Something that rhymes? An acrostic? A quatrain? I am in a quandary here, Sometimes the easiest thing to do becomes the hardest when you apply the dendrites and think too hard. I know this and yet, I am not the most prolific bard. What is the contest holder looking for? Some thing unique, simple, well-written and fine. I have to admit I am not as confident as at most other times. I do not want to write about a couch, but here it is Lying in my mind, big time as I try to create one. In a new and unusual way. As it is available and I am worn out just trying, I will lie on it now and take my well deserved cat nap. At rest now. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Written July 3, 2018
For Marueen McGreavy's Get Into Shape Poem Contest