Best Mame Poems
"Awake Sweet Stolen Dream"
I wandered outside my conscious element of thought
drifting into wonderlust of dreamland sequences like photographs
as I inhaled fragrant winds gliding upon gossamer wings
of lace and satin, streaming through pink cotton candy clouds.
I touched a rainbow traveling warp speed to rendezvous
with my lover, who appeared at my sheer will's emotion
for I had cast a magic spell upon his heart with hypnotic trance
he, helpless, had no recourse but to obey my dreamy wishes.
I tantalized my lovers' soul with happy innuendo as my muse
in dreams, love escalates to ultimate desire without penalty
then, suddenly, a rival resonated her displeasure of my game
fury of the White Witch chased me with her fiery wand, to mame.
my delicate dream evolved into nightmarish tone of fearfulness
as she drew closer, I realized consequences to treat love frivolously
so blatantly. as my tender tears urged my mind desperately to
awake from sweet stolen dream whose horror left me breathless.
in panic state secreting droplets of perspiration on flesh and bone
I released my fair silky skin from black lace negligee' trying
to open sleepy eyes of green stinging from tears of sorrow
peering across the bed, your warmth still lying there to caress.
that night I made a vow to cherish love so good and true
for dreams are predictors; omens of future events to come
waking to reality I treasure the beauty of love, not as a toy
to trifle with, as love will banish nightmares from realm of dreams.
as I awake from my sweet stolen dream of wanton folly
my heart is renewed in spirit with a softer side to dwell
among Angels rather than the evil dark side of manipulation
I now know Heaven is real .. and so is Hell.
*For Leonora's Waking Up Contest.
*Nov. 14, 2012.
Starlets tender their heralded names
Just another pretty face; another superficial dame
Brokered pawns in tawdry, transparent game
Bartered tinder is their trite acclaim
Stars that twinkled then imploded in combustible flame
Fickle lives; filthy lucre their singular aim
Pleasing the masses with articial drama their claim to fame
Egotistical debutantes who proudly gilded their shame
Fealty and familial bonds with pleasure they did cripple, mame
Fading memories that inspired more of the same
Burnished symbols remembered only by their surname
There is a story I know so well there is a story so hard to tell
there was a pet around the house this little pet was out and about
till one day he pass my way then a new friendship begin we were together
everyday I was glad he came my way his name was mooda his tale was so
cute he stood tall as if he knew it all I start everyday feeding him
and giving him my love everyday we went out I carried him in his little
box strangers and friends would ask who is he I would say he is my one and
only everything was just fine till one day I heard him wine he was hurt real
badly by a big black dog that left him mame as I look for my little pet
I could feel he was gone nothing left then one snowy day I found him lifeless
lying with snow all around him my search was through my heart was broken I
just dropped down to my knees and fell beside him every since I lost my pet
the time we shared I will never forget I will always love and remember him
mooda I will wait for you till the end.
this poem is in loving memory of my cat Mooda
Copyright@September2005
If I was Auntie Mame, I would be excited about everything.
Kicking up fun wherever I am invited.
Even places I’m not, but everywhere being the zing.
Bringing people together, making them united.
I would be like giant puppies, leaping into lap places,
Sure I am welcome, not aware if I am not.
Knowing they are thrilled I am licking their faces.
I would throw up my hands, and dance around the lot.
I would be insanely, gloriously, uncommonly happy.
Unaware of disapproval or disdain in any way.
Oblivious to others’ discomfort, I would be loud and snappy.
Thinking their laughter is for me, I would continue to play!
Because I am the party, I do not want anyone to sleep.
Let the party begin! Bring out the chips and bar stools.
Take a chance, open that door, come out, and take the leap!
It is me, and if you have read the script, Auntie Mame rules!
The transport - imposing, loud, on time.
Rising smoke, intoxicating black cloud.
She steps past the tracks, onto the platform.
Ebonic eyes float up to her waiting kin.
She ascends the steel stairs, as hearts
Beat faster, and shyness slides behind
Mom and Dad. Dark braids, high cheeks,
Red lipstick - all envelops her mystique.
Melodic voice, a fashion designer. She
Arrives from the Big Apple - New York City.
She seems quite like Auntie Mame,
And Like That Girl, cute and single.
She’d collect Egypt, Africa and Europe;
Display them and marry a movie star’s son.
Like Brady Bunch Jan, she interests me.
The transport leaves its tracks behind.
They called him Jumper
He preferred Prancer
When he was happy he would prance
Giant circles of joy
And the dizziness
Too many beers and staggers
For 365 days waiting times 4
He would dress himself outlandishly
Feathers and painting his face
He loved the Mamba and espresso
Dancing to the beat and the heat
But February 29th he could leap and pride
Gyrating crazily leaping from space to space
Time warp again
Disco fever
Never tiring
It only happens once every 4 years
Leap frog when he was a child
Monty Python taught him how to leap from tree to tree
He did the Lumberjack
His jeans had done the Hop on Bandstand
He had bell bottom genes
While in South America he did the Anaconda
Bunny Hop with children as he walked
Loved the song Fandango
While hunting his horse taught him the Foxtrot
Auntie Mame be proud
His favorite was Leaping
Once every 4 years
Just bored so I typed nonsense
can u tell me whomwhatwhere I am
or is everyone to blame
must i lose all Butt one limbs
and never hope to be the sames
I hide the mymemine unto all within'ins
and neverthewheretohereforwondery i was given
I don't know who u the Fu_k u r (emma)
I don't know why the Fu_k u r alive
But now I'm Aliveeeeeeeeeeee x four.
Capture, imprison, torture, mame, kill, set in motion , consider me
fake free and reset my soft soul aghast afire aspire so we gonad disagree
and catapault our doured desire decreed to a lightspeed stud unintended
in an each others doubledoubt, and are never in Needs Sleep'
of each other again, cold promise prism ed and feverent of a drop dead desire.
Take, seek, hold, love u, says no future me in a present pic
To you I am only a one moment of a pissed off past time promised
You saw in me and only in me, that OHIO boydunce dumbass
wishme was you wanto notto canto maybe?? diff in your socioclitiro
promisepremise that sillosuited your pillowpussy preferences in multiple
measures male militant, yet in the final sociocomehithermalermeter,
it was all a meremalematterhusbominus of vas def/difference diligence. Find a hole in the femalefalsewhale wall that TIMMERS r aplenty and they lay yr loins loyaly indignent unto a penalplay of Oreagonase ****** statute of unimmarital prepostincompliant prepost Tim, pleasure to get yrself to a BETTER ***** lounge, Eitheror, neither nor, one is whore and the never is torn tween shall ever meetgreet again; Cockaldodado!!!!
I am through with you. Or as Lester says, "You don't get to tell me what to do, ever again."
Lately I’ve been thinking about heaven
And the renowned paradise up there
Plus getting to see my brethren
And memories that we’ll get to share
But a thought came into my noodle
An idea I’ve never thought before
That my kin, of which there must be oodles
Of maybe ten thousand or more
Coz I expect most my past relations
Have made the trip above the clouds
And if they’re all there since creation
Then they must have formed a large crowd
So that not only grandparents I’ll see
Yes sure enough, dead cousins too
Plus there’ll be grand’s to the tenth degree
In a couple of miles-long queue
Yes, they’ll most likely all know my name
And introduce me while giving their own
But after hugging great, great, great aunt Mame
All the other names will remain unknown
Yet, in heaven we’ll all be happy
And enjoy each day of the week
That is until great to the 8th grand pappy
Loses his teeth and refuses to speak
David Fisher 1/17/2015
Once when a fresh faced young girl named Mame,
Who had a face-lift, when seeking fame.
But the mirror's refraction
Gave her no satisfaction.
For her visage, portrayed an old dame.
11 / 7 / 2022.
Sponsor Tania Kitchin.
Howmanysyllables.com
For a Limerick contest.
Mame Blackwell, small light-skinned woman with harsh gray eyes.
That told a grave story of her encounters with death and hardship.
The edge of her mien was sharpened by the blade of the wicked and taken grip.
And her spirit for life was drained years ago, and her tears have long since dried up.
She had a stern manner of makeup.
She was a non-conformist with modern styles of flimsy dresses.
She wore a white scarf around her head to hide her thin gray tresses.
Her skirts were faded and worn, and drag the Carolina soil with her.
And the thin blades of grasses likewise concur.
For many years she wrapped her strong twig-like fingers around small bodies of all hues and gender and pulled them into this rigorous existence.
With tenacity and persistence.
Many rugged seasons ago, she squatted in the center of her one room shack and pushed to the floor her one and only child.
To her, at that moment in time life seemed reconciled.
She was young in years but knew not how many.
The ones that possessed her; thought little of the importance of telling her., and this insensitive act was the object of her acrimony.
copyright 2016 Looking At The Light From The Bottom of The Lake
Lately each morning I wake wanting to cry
Trying to figure it out
Don't know why
Pondering the cause, recounting yesterday
The day included cooking, cleaning
Nothing significant, everything okay
In the morning, at noon, at supper watched the news
Oh my gosh, no wonder I have the blues
Most of the stories are tragic and sad
Some information makes me mad
Stories of tragedies, bombs that mame
Searching for clues for who to blame
Political people covering their lies
Political parties refusing to compromise
Both sides claim to be right
Not giving an inch, so on goes the fight
Come on Congress, get your act together
No one side has all the answers to make things better
Together we are stronger, divided we fall
Come off your high horses
You look silly, not tall
God must look down at us and shake His head
Men are fools, wish they would look to Me instead
Gosh, I feel better, now that I have had my say
I am going to get down on my knees
Hope you will join me to pray
When I retire and start living
I am going to stop writing and just live
Live, live, live like Auntie Mame
Or, maybe I will write about living:
A.M.
Drink margaritas – lime only
Walk on pristine beach – white sand only
Take three shots of espresso - Cuban only
Read love poems only by Neruda – NO WRITING!
Recite Shakespeare - the comedies only
Cook healthy vegan lunch and do cool yoga
P.M.
Drink cocktails - with Stoli only
Listen to Andy Bey and Patricia Barber for hours
Have sequestered time - with the LOML
Eat healthy vegan dinner and train for something called a 5K
Watch sunsets for longer than one minute
Go to indie films, live theater, hip clubs
And dance all night with buff gay men in briefs only!
I wonder if that is what living will be like.
What does love really mean?
or is a vision like a dream.
we're traveling down the same road
with different types of endings
why do we always feel alone
until we're almost grown
due to always hide ourselves
from experiencing the ride
from actually letting our feet slide
and taking the fall
and maybe putting a plaque on the wall
for every experience that you have had
good or bad
cause either way we wear them on our sleeve
like a boy scout badge
we all want someone
but can't commit to only one
or at least it seems that way when i turn a page
with people i know at my age
it seems like love is game
with an unsung hero
and people jus mame
and shoot through your heart with a spear though
its almost impossible to find a girl who's 4real though
a women who u can paint on mural
someone who appriciates love at its best
and won't try it like the life span of an insect
maybe love isn't forever
but it isn't a whenever
it what you make it
and its there when your ready to take it
but we jus need to take some time
and possible unwind
and figure out if its love that we all really want
and also if the person we love isn't the one in front
i hope one day that we all appreciate love
i hope that we all experience it when we go to above
because life without love is definitely sour
Thats why im seeing mines in a nice big tower
one last thing b4 the end is near
and that love is nothing to fear
because when it happens everything becomes clear
and you won't help but smile when your in the mirror
because you no how if feels
when you explore something so real.
Some things would be better unsaid.
Some fads never should have survived.
Some books would be better unread.
Some plays never should be revived.
I saw a production today
And this show failed my comatose test.
If the years aren’t kind to a play,
My advice is – just give it a rest!
i sit and focus on my purpose//
provin to myself, and then the world, that im not worthless//
contemplate measures to take to make it hurt less//
the pain that courses through my viens//
every thought seems to go against the grain//
nothing i do that i used to feels quite the same//
but i sit and smoke and zone out to see the world simple and plain//
everything we do is a play in a game//
with consequences that are real and can potentially mame//
and mutulate your vision of whut is ur true fate//
a date with destiny that will eventually take place//
but until then the physical is stuck in the same place//
but the mental roams around freely at its own pace//
sometimes rapid, other times sluggish//
life has the potential to proceed the smoothest or the roughest//
its all what we make of it//
the way we roll with the punches//
and counter with hooks that cause us to be triumphant//
able to look through the dumb and evaluate quickly on wut to come with//
whether to duck left right or back//
then to determine the best route of attack//
and like that the obstacle that had us seemingly trapped//
has passed like a mic in a cypher at night//
filled with only kids who had hunger and drastic appetite//
to hold that device that aids our raps so nice//
see life is like a blunt u twist//
its all what u make of it...