Best Marm Poems
He came into my room carrying a gentle shade of light upon his face
and as I grew accustomed to his presence, I felt his spirit free
Its as if the angels carved him out of alabaster bone and marm
with and anciency and rapture made of silver thread and gold
Spellbound by his magic, I inhaled his presence dear,
then watched my heart begin to beat for him and him alone
He was the scent of orchid in a mingled denim shirt
and as he blew me kisses, I hitched a breath so rare
between his arms, beneath his skin, inside his heart
I was here, there, everywhere,
and as he roomed me with his auric fire
I heard the beckon of my soul,
" Go ahead release your heart, he's yours"
January 14, 2020
The words I chose is Aura
My heart-beat drums of love and charm.
O' hear the voice of love that sings a sweet song.
Listen to the songbird's *dulcet serenade and dawning alarm,
and reply, oh lovebird, with a lovesick *tongue.
Liberate thy spirit of love my dear *marm,
and respond! respond! yes respond with a passion so strong.
Release a seductive hymn to embrace my heart with its fiery melodic arm
so an overwhelming fervor follows along.
Oh! incinerate the shell of my heart 'til my soul be visibly nude and disarm',
thus revealing the *candescent embodiment of sensations which lives among.
Certainly, I want to be caress and loved by Love's delicious swarm.
So, Queen of hearts, bombard the core of my soul 'til it be in awe!-- experience I long.
*dulcet--(esp. of sound) sweet and soothing
*tongue--refers to speech
*marm--variation of madam
*candescent--glowing red-hot
(Poem for John Heck contest)
I recently visited an animal farm
Accompanied by my favorite school marm.
She said that the antics were fun to behold
Of creatures that acted outrageous and bold.
Well, I didn't believe her when first we arrived
'Cause all that I saw were empty beehives.
But then as our journey progressed up the path
What should I see but a pig in a bath.
But after an oink and a grunt and a squeal
I saw something yonder with yet more appeal.
There in the enclosure, as small as could be
A cute baby goat was looking at me.
I fed him some hay and patted his head
While Mother sat watching from her cozy bed.
But then he did something decidedly *****
By making some noises so eerie to hear.
He did it by using his mouth and his tongue
And also employing a throat and a lung.
He switched back and forth from the 1st to the 2nd
Attempting, you see, the white nanny to beckon.
The she-goat, however, was happy to stay
Right there where she so very languidly lay.
The baby persisted in making a razz
And then a "baa-baa", and all of that jazz.
No human could spit out a better Bronx Cheer,
No child cry "bottle" as to so endear.
I split my side laughing so hard at this act
It felt like a hernia, and that is a fact.
I've been back there often, but alas I have never
Been able to see something nearly as clever.
I’m thrilled to have my students joining me
for milk and cookies on this lovely day.
For fun we will pretend it’s scones and tea.
The maid has left our tray. Without delay
we’ll eat and chat; then for a while we’ll play.
For table manners, each of you has earned
a gold star. You’re so pleasant and polite,
not like my brothers, who have never learned
how to behave at tea time. They’re a sight!
They need to be in charm school day and night.
You’ve come so far. On your first days of class,
you growled and hissed. You were so rough and loud
Now you’re quite cultured. You don’t sulk or sass
when I give you instructions. I am proud
to say I think you’d all impress a crowd!
Urban dictionary: marm. a British word meaning an old school teacher
picture 4
October 31, 2021
Rhyming Me a Poem 2 contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
page turning suspense filled the vaulted sepulchral air
ushering the veiled spouse to be
while afar off trumpets did blare
(arranged by the well known matchmaker Harriet Kuritsky)
creating the ambience analogous to a renaissance faire
yet contrasted in that this bachelor and other men related to me
segregated with females and males at a set distance away i.e. not physically
near
dictated by mandates of the Hebrew coda stemming from Moses biological tree
which separate quarters ample enough to spare
until the proper toll of the bell would peal accompanied by yippee!
after Rabbi Boyce officiated for Matthew Scott
and Abby Robin, the crowd exalted with cheers
of L’Chiam with chutzpah oompah’s sizzling and hot.
klezmer musicians played schmaltz
which accompanied the hoopla as couples did waltz.
all the while family, friends and relatives blessed the new groom and bride
although highly orthodox, the men removed respective skullcap
more commonly known as the yarmulke some plain others dyed
women and children broke out in traditional dance and song while other did
clap
exemplifying Yahweh to deliver mazal tov and shalom as spiritual guide
to the pronounced husband and wife who pledged their troth in a snap.
toward conclusion of this typical Jewish wedding, a full goblet of kosher red wine
got tossed in the air
this (in conjunction with crush of the emptied wine glass) communicated a sign
and marshaled the crowd to begin a local Jerusalem exodus symbolic and
clear.
as the newlyweds blissfully and radiantly strolled arm in arm
and exited the Synagogue, the euphoric and excited crowd
tossed handfuls of uncle Ben’s unconverted rice grown from a nearby organic
farm
a chauffeur waited to shuttle them to their honeymoon location
passersby waved and bowed e'en thy first grade school marm!
page turning suspense filled the vaulted sepulchral air
ushering the veiled spouse to be
while afar off trumpets did blare
(arranged by the well known matchmaker Harriet Kuritsky)
creating the ambience analogous to a renaissance faire
yet contrasted in that this bachelor and other men related to me
segregated with females and males at a set distance away i.e. not physically
near
dictated by mandates of the Hebrew coda stemming from Moses biological tree
which separate quarters ample enough to spare
until the proper toll of the bell would peal accompanied by yippee!
after Rabbi Boyce officiated for Matthew Scott
and Abby Robin, the crowd exalted with cheers
of L’Chiam with chutzpah oompah’s sizzling and hot.
klezmer musicians played schmaltz
which accompanied the hoopla as couples did waltz.
all the while family, friends and relatives blessed the new groom and bride
although highly orthodox, the men removed respective skullcap
more commonly known as the yarmulke some plain others dyed
women and children broke out in traditional dance and song while other did
clap
exemplifying Yahweh to deliver mazal tov and shalom as spiritual guide
to the pronounced husband and wife who pledged their troth in a snap.
toward conclusion of this typical Jewish wedding, a full goblet of kosher red wine
got tossed in the air
this (in conjunction with crush of the emptied wine glass) communicated a sign
and marshaled the crowd to begin a local Jerusalem exodus symbolic and
clear.
as the newlyweds blissfully and radiantly strolled arm in arm
and exited the Synagogue, the euphoric and excited crowd
tossed handfuls of uncle Ben’s unconverted rice grown from a nearby organic
farm
a chauffeur waited to shuttle them to their honeymoon location
passersby waved and bowed e'en thy first grade school marm!
My poems are often simple, or so I have been told.
Nine courses of college English, if I may be so bold.
My roots are in the country and that is how I live.
If my poems are too simple, then I ask you to forgive
This simple-minded, country school marm
Who was priveledged to grow up on a farm.
My poetry makes me happy when I am blue.
If you don’t like it simple, then I am sorry for you.
Ordinary words can easily say what is real.
You don’t need fancy words to say how you feel.
So I keep it simple, as you have readily seen
So simple folks can understand just what I mean.
Simple does not mean stupid, ignorant, or rough.
Simple means without frills and all that stuff.
Please don’t bother to tell me if I break your rules.
Simple poems written by me does not make me a fool.
My bachelor of science in teaching stands on its own.
A language arts specialization keeps me in the zone.
So when you read my poem and it’s too simple for you,
Just don’t review it, even though it’s simple and true.
Find a poet who uses words requiring deeper thought.
Those poems for which a dictionary must be sought.
If I choose to be simplistic, then that is my right.
Many other poets like the simple way that I write.
From the grave and beyong my wicked hallow at my hand
I seen a ghost that made blood rain rom the sand
A cat that changed back into a school marm
A devilish beast with black as coal eyes, will certainly do harm
My zombie invited me for brains and tea
He plucked out the helps eyes and fed them to me
Trick or treaters ring my door bell
I open the gate and welcome them to hell
For how I love to munch on toddlers
And sugary plump pretend, cops and robbers
There was a fine marm from Bushing
who bare bottomed, pushed into a cushion
while half asleep
her children in creep
and woke her with all of their shooshing!
Jimmy Waters was quite a precocious young man
School marm a mentor who understands
Parents who love him to them he is grand
In the inner city not totally safe
School marm a mentor who understands
Jimmy gunned down by those who are mean
In the inner city not totally safe
He goes threw the ghetto to get to her place
Jimmy gunned down by those who are mean
Parents who love him to them he is grand
He goes threw the ghetto to get to her place
Jimmy Waters was quite a precocious young man
(Story loosely interpertative from It's Supernatural about a family who had one son born late
in life and this young man would visit an elderly school teacher eveyday and help her with
things she needed done and she encouraged him to read poetry and fine writers. He was
gunned down one day and he appeared to her one day when she needed someone.)
Francine Roberts
Contest Name Happy New Year contest |
Happy Control freaks in the soup,
Who want to bully, call it poop,
If you don’t follow their rules,
I thought poetry was expression,
Not commas, veiled aggression,
School marm types do irk me some,
With their syllable counts ,
Not poetry, so dumb,
Judge Johnson been in session:)
Don Johnson
6-jan-11
Today is the day
So be happy and gay
It’s the springtime, so play
And appreciate May
What’s that you say?
You need some more pay?
Well, I’d love to stay
But I’m allergic to hay
Way out on the farm
We’re taught by a marm
She uses her arm
To cause us alarm
Now she means us no harm
But when she turns off her charm
It’s enough to disarm
This young firearm
When I shoot from the hip
And I give lots of lip
I think I’m a trip
But let me give you a tip
This poem is nonsense
Mother's fine old broach had I worn
on the edge of my green jacket
that I'd bought to keep me warm
-but the shamrock undid its latchet.
The broach fell off in the trek
to Brewley’s to rest our poor feet.
I had a coffee, and what the heck,
of course, I had me a sweet.
I was brushing the crumbs from my chest,
and there did I notice my loss,
a token of Mother, and one she liked best
now gone to some Irish girl's blouse.
My Scotch-Irish Mom's in glory.
She'd never crossed an ocean.
Bringing her broach was my fantasy story.
She'd accompany me here was my notion.
So I left a piece of my dear little Marm
where her distant relatives thrive.
I like to think it's admired for its charm
"It sparkles," they'll say, "It's alive!"
Far from a drawer near the Ohio banks,
yet that piece is just where she'd choose it.
For life spends itself in fancies and pranks.
If we can't see it thus, then, we lose it.
Sittin’ in th’ saddle. Gotta soon skedaddle.
School marm says she’ll tattle. Sheriff wants a battle.
Kissed her on the cheek jes’ to git a li’l peek
at her widow’s peak ‘cause she’s purty an’ petite.
Gotta hankerin’ to git off ol’ Buck and sit
a spell afore I quit and have a chaw to spit.
Cogitatin’ and bidin’ time afore ridin’
down that canyon hidin’ lest I git a chidin’.
Starin’ out blinkin’, doin’ some proper thinkin’
‘bout the stars a twinklin’ and my heavy drinkin’.
My casual, carousin’ rife, hidin’ from the strife
of settlin’ down my life an’ takin’ on a wife.
Soon I’ll fergit the threat, fergit my social debt
I don’t wanna sweat dirt jes’ to pay a moral bet
farmin’ unfertile land, or workin’ for the man.
Druther take a stand and work as lonely cowhand.
Might as well admit it, I’m a social misfit.
Don’t wanna submit it, or give up an’ quit it.
Searchin’ but cain’t seem to find comfort in my mind.
Guess it’s ’bout time I recognize I’m doin’ jes’ fine.