Best Lunges Poems
I'm drifting along in a boat
In the shade of bald cypress trees
They're covered in gray Spanish moss
Hanging down to their cypress knees
With the swipe of a catfish tail
As he lunges to grab a snack
His splash breaks the afternoon silence
Minnows flee from the hungry attack
Turtles are sunning on an old fallen tree
Bullfrogs croaking for rain
The echoing cries of a lonely loon
As he pauses between refrains
At times escaping into nature
When life gets too extreme
I go back to the days of a country boy
To a boat, on a creek, in a dream
January 14 2017
by Daniel Turner
Categories:
lunges, dream, nature,
Form:
Quatrain
Today it’s Pancake Day and there’s to be a pancake race
Entrants are on the starting line with a smile upon their face
Old Ted ‘s ready with his frying pan, he is a fat old josser
but when it comes to pancakes, Ted’s an expert tosser
The gun goes BANG and off they go, Ted’s busy tossing away
busty Bertha's in the lead, if she wins there’ll be hell to pay!
Ted’s won the race the last five years, he tosses night and day
the trophy’s been on his top shelf, he hopes that’s where it’ll stay
Bertha stumbles, her pancake drops and she begins to cry
Ted sneakily stamps on her pancake; he’s such a crafty guy
The finishing line is in sight, there’s about fifty yards to go
Ted frantically tosses his pancake; his wrist goes fast not slow
Bill makes a sterling effort and comes at Ted from behind
they toss their pans in unison; Bill's got winning on his in mind
Ted lunges at the white tape, but the result’s declared a draw
Bill suggests they have a ‘toss off’ - there’s not been a draw before
Both men take a breather, awaiting a fresh pancake to toss
if either of them drops their pancake it will be a great loss
Both men stand on the finish line and flip and toss like mad
neither of them will concede, whoever loses will be quite sad
A crowd gathers, all eager to know who’ll be crowned the winner
suddenly a seagull swoops and grabs Ted’s pancake for its dinner
Ted starts to shout and stamps his feet when it’s announced Bill's won
he takes it all too seriously, but Bill declared the toss off was such fun!
Poem edited - originally posted in 2017
02/16/21
Categories:
lunges, food, humorous, race,
Form:
Couplet
Across the valleys and far-reaching hills
the spirit of man to this day remains…
keepers of liberty guard one covenant
though battles rage across the earth
like deep markings from time past--
yet the global village rises ever boldly
from the lunges of imperial greed.
Until the drums rumble an anthem,
with an elixir that pours a sacred mark
kindling the warriors’ grit, renewed
from their legendary descendants’ wail:
That a collective language rings
a most powerful voice that affirms
one timeless creed … “peace begins with me,”
reaching far out beyond all heaven’s skies,
as spirit of brotherhood thrives within … free.
The Sword Speaks Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward 2/3/2017
Categories:
lunges, devotion, freedom, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
Belligerent bulldog blows up balloons, bulbous and blue.
Frantic frenzied flamingo flips for a flute and a flu.
Persnickety porcupine prances perilous with pooh,
Concerned calico cat coaxes a cardinal’s carnival coo.
Daredevil dolphin diligently designs dalmatian dog’s hairdo.
Serendipitous skunk sashays toward sticky sweet stew.
Lavishly laborious lion lunges into little linguistic loo.
Youngish yak yells and yips at yellow bellied you.
Categories:
lunges, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form:
Monorhyme
In the Shadow of Sunlight
It is one of those glaringly bright days that
make your eyes water painfully.
You can't see everything at once but in short glimpses and peeks. Between blinks, half an image forms, blurry around the edges.
You raise your hand as a shield, squint, lean back and tuck your chin, grimacing.
You thought you heard her say your name.
Searching in stuttering snatches,
Looking in limping lunges…
like a slow motion film in staccato strobes.
She begins far away but ends close, so close that her form blocks you from the light and you see her as the shadow of sunlight. She is glowing around the edges like a phantom.
She is smiling into your eyes for a moment.
The relief of sight, of cool darkness, and then gone in a flash of brilliance once again. Balking, you ask her to wait! Wait just a second! Why do your ears depend so much on your eyes? She speaks but without seeing her mouth forming words you're unsure of what she's said…dissipating as she goes anyway until only a whisper.
“I love you darling…”
And that's when I wake up and remember she is gone. Gone for just over 20 years now. An ache in my stomach and tears prick my sleep swollen eyes. I turn to my side and tuck my hand under the pillow…try to get back to my dream.
Sometimes it is the light that blinds us to the truth and darkness that soothes the burn.
Categories:
lunges, death, dream, sunshine,
Form:
Free verse
Lavished Lioness
Lunges with quietness
Leaks love, inspired with...
Hunger
It aches her when in slumber
It takes her under
Straddling starvation
now just preying on prayers
stuck in a safari of slayers
The hectic hunt continues
Various emptiness in the same venue
Deadlands. Dead things
Then she sees a man.
Lavished Lioness
Lunges with Quietness
sinks her teeth inspired with
Fresh Meat.
Categories:
lunges, desire,
Form:
Alliteration
Watching tennis is a treat
When those who are elite compete
With lunges, leaps and smashing serves
That rise above mere mortals' nerves.
Such slicing shots, such smashing drops,
Near-misses when the heart just stops;
They race around the court so fast
As if each point might be the last.
We sit at home, on couch or chair
And catch the action on the air.
To me, no sport is quite as sweet
As watching tennis pros compete.
Categories:
lunges, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
Today is Pancake Day and there’s to be a pancake race
folk are on the starting line with a smile upon their face
Ted is ready with his frying pan, he is a fat old josser
but when it comes to pancakes, Ted’s an expert tosser.
The gun goes BANG and off they go, Ted’s busy tossing away
busty Maureen's in the lead, if she wins there’ll be hell to pay!
Ted’s won the race the last five years, he tosses night and day
He’s had the trophy on his shelf and hopes that’s where it’ll stay
Maureen stumbles, her pancake drops and she begins to cry
Ted sneakily stamps on her pancake; he’s such a crafty guy
The finishing line is in sight, there’s just fifty yards to go
Ted frantically tosses his pancake, his wrist is fast not slow
Bill makes a sterling effort and comes at Ted from behind
tossing their pans in unison; Bill's got winning on his in mind
Ted lunges for the white tape, but the race is declared a draw
Bill suggests a ‘toss off’ as there’s never been a draw before
Both men take a breather and get a fresh pancake to toss
if either drops their pancake then it will be to their loss
They both stand on the finish line and flip and toss like mad
neither of them will concede, whoever loses will be quite sad
A crowd gathers, desperate to know who’ll be crowned the winner
suddenly a seagull swoops grabbing Ted’s pancake for its dinner
He starts to shout, he’s quite irate when its declared Bill's won
Ted takes it all to seriously, Bill thought the toss off was such fun!
In England Shrove Tuesday is also known as pancake day and pancake races are held all over the UK.
Date 02/28/17
Make me actually LOL 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor Nina Parmenter
Categories:
lunges, food, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
Luke Laker locks lengthy lovely letters and lollypops in a
locker lying at lonesome lounge in learning field, linking
lake Lawson to the left of Larry`s law school.Lady Latoya a
Latina licks Luke Laker`s lollypops , looks into and reads his lovely
letters with levity.Luke Laker loses his cool,lashes and lunges
for Latoya and their lips locked in... a long lasting kiss of life,
just like licking lollypops and lemonade.
Later Luke weds Latoya legitimately in a large littoral land zone.
Categories:
lunges, life, romance,
Form:
Alliteration
Man, I remember the thrumming of that last bell of the school year.....
Like a prisoner being furloughed into the warm sun, buzzing of grasshoppers.
Field stickers burrowing into your ankles, joyfully, while you take the wrong way/long way
back.
The sound of whispering gold as your armplane wings dislodge future assaulters of ankles.
I always liked sighs in the summer.....those sweet drones were the tones of freedom.
In the distance you hear Shirley scream as Brad tells EVERYBODY she likes Ralph...
You knew you should be gettin' home, but, confound it, this one brief moment was yours.
Eternal.
There was a sound, like a shell to the ear, of all you had learned, escaping as if under
pressure.
To thwart it was to stop a tsunami with an umbrella.....ineffectual....unnoticed.
But, also vacant, was common sense; probably why I went Jake's way that day....
Oh, he was there, lurking...lying in wait for my almost clock-work arrival.
Many a day I had screamed a million insults at him as he chased me like Satan,
Hoping "today" wasn't the day he caught up with me.
His exhalations never sounded labored, as if he was letting me get ahead.....
But not today!!!!!.....I JUMP......He LUNGES......and his teeth gain purchase on my seat!!!!
However, I escape....My bottom, that much cooler than it was before and will probably be
later!
........................
.........
.....
...
Home.......... you see mom in the kitchen, drinking sun tea and waiting for you to arrive....
"So, How was school?"..."Uh, fine, I guess." "What did you learn today?"......."Uh, to never
underestimate the value of Gym Class!!"......"Well," she says, "if you took home economics,
you'd be able to fix up your pants before Dad gets home and sees your underwear!!"......
Parents NEVER respect an Adventurer's near-fatal exploits!!!
Categories:
lunges, adventure, childhood, funny, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Ode to the Cigarette
My air is contaminated by the cigarette smoke that I smoke...walking in the clouds makes me choke...though I enjoy it no joke..no money in my pockets
'cause the habit leaves me broke...calming my nerves destroying my lunges...the excellent taste...the life shortening plunge...it is wrong...
death from of it is painful and long...getting weaker...still so strong...
though I throw myself into this painful drug...my shoulders I shrug...as I drag and tug...pull and puff my air contaminating cigarette smoke that I smoke...
By: Peter T. DeSpirito
Categories:
lunges, humorous, word play, drug,
Form:
Ode
It’s when she is dancing
That she feels so free
The music drives inside
Extending to her tips
She tells you a story
By the smile on her face
The shine in her eyes
Energy in movement
Composure in her stance
Strength through her core
Fingers reaching for the sky
She lunges through the air
Lands with grace of a swan
Competing with herself
Being the best that she can
All that she is – expressed
All her innocence and pride
In the moments of dance
Shyness and all that’s inside
The perfect imperfections
Woven in her story to dance
Categories:
lunges, dance, happiness, journey,
Form:
Free verse
A gentlefellow and maiden intermingle
on curiosity's swing-seated rest.
Vulnerableness is compressed between them,
as if a violet's caress requested their presence.
Harmony's tones are blown through the air,
like lilac's laughter scattering
as jasmine's megaphone hums.
Music's smooth movements dance within them
as if mountainberry ice cream were sampled
from their dreams with a fairy dusting.
An artist's loaded brush paints their moment.
A starfish's bluish blush comes naturally.
Beating blood and veins overlap silently.
Regal drape twine hides a stage
where beauty's ballrooms bloom before their eyes.
Love's uncomfortable shoes
leave a pleasurable bruise as they
peruse through fields of vine-ripened grapes.
An eggplant's bloodline finds royalty's manners
are hung like Lutheran banners
in the boldest of circumstances.
A stream of jelly donut filling
lunges into their tongues at once.
Tastebuds are given amethyst's first kiss.
Like hot and cold amiss, the warmth is blissful.
A rainbow's favorite ending begins indefinitely
as a projection of the evening's sky blending.
The progeny of red and blue is born by two.
Categories:
lunges, beauty, dance, happy, love,
Form:
Alliteration
attacking with achiote
burns with botanas
challenging us with chalupas
deluge of dulce
elotes by the ear
frightening flan
gouged with guacamole
heaping on the hongas
isla isolation
jugo huge jagged jugs
KKKKKKKKKK
langosta lunges
monumental mezcal
no count nopalitas
organized ostion
pummeling pepino
quivering quesadillas
rebelling relleno
sandia sword fights
tortured tamales
uvas uprising
venting vedura
war of the no "W" words
xnipec xanadu
yerbabuena yells
zanahoria zealots
Categories:
lunges, food
Form:
ABC
A hiding place, a warm and darkened room,
A lit doorway, bright against the dark,
Cold against the warmth, a frame for odd
Assorted stranger-forms whose faces loom
As quarrels over (what?) convulse and rend them,
Leering laughter giving in to vicious
Sneers, bared fangs, silent snarls
Of wretched, clutching, atavistic mayhem,
A terror once removed. Inside that hole
Distant from the proximal horrid window
Where twisted evil shadow-puppets fight
Peculiar faint amusement seems to roll
Like waves around the cave, detached and born
Of safety via distance, of certainty
That out would never be in, that warmth was safe,
That war above, so far away, forlorn,
Could be watched as from a languid seat
Far recessed in a darkened empty theater,
Nestled snugly, listening to the voice
Which comments on the raging battle heat.
From somewhere up, behind, not left nor right,
But from the center, voice and fight both
Directly sensed, as if they each occurred
In a vacuum, touch and smell, sound and sight
Being interchangeable and void.
The fighters jab and poke, madly gouge,
And neither gains advantage, being justly
Matched, as both are faceless, the man
At left pitted fair against the shrewish
Plot of his opponent, evil woman.
Both in turn appeal for judgment, turning
Away from fighting to glare and wave and hiss
Silently for a verdict on the ghastly driven
Feud which now has stopped, as it began,
Abruptly, and receiving none, for in
The silence no answer can be given
(Besides which, being taken by surprise
And overcome by sudden fear, aware
Of change in circumstance) the watcher is mute,
The murderous woman lunges at his very eyes
In deadly assault, bent on maiming, killing,
Groping fiercely at his open throat
For no apparent reason; and the comfort
Of the soothing voice utterly halts.
Words without sound fly like spears between them
Accusatory fingers gesture madly
And spittle from their half-crazed livid mouths
Wings through air in visual acid anthem
To this grisly deadly tandem fight
That seems the worse being set in relief
By the rectangular hole that serves as both
Window and door, divider of dark and light,
No protection, as threshold battle threatens
Him within, as blind hatred rages
In deft slashes of lengthy fingernails
While foe from foe extracts macabre debt.
Categories:
lunges, dream, imagery, psychological,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter