Best Mits Poems


Premium Member Click, Click, Huh

Feeble, a word not often used 
in this hi-def, mega bite world,
where almost anything can be done
with the tap of a fingertip,
the aged still feel feeble.
This crackled feeling runs along the rims
of brittle nails 
and gray-white strands of hair. 
The once svelte figures of maid or man, 
now chose more often to crunch and snap, 
as ligaments roll unpleasantly over joint heads.
The witty repartee of youth is replaced by a dazed look.
Yes, at this moment, 
après gym and post nap
and pre chair massage a wobbling frailness
surrounds me in a weak chicken broth
 of feebleness.

fingerless mits
cover bloodless palms –
weak spring sun


emotion: feeble
poet: Debbie Guzzi
Contest: How Do I Feel Today
Categories: mits, loss,
Form: Verse

The Fisherman

When i was just a young boy,my sister i did go see,
She had married a fisherman,they lived of the sea.
Every morning at four A.M ,he would be up and out the door,
Heading for that fishing shack, just along the shore.

Making sure there was enough gas, to get him there and back,
Checking to see if the oars were on board, life jackets were in the sack.
He asked if i would like to go,to see how fishermen pulled thier nets,
I said sure count me in,will i need some mits?

A rain coat in case it rains,a long pair of rubber boots,
He said ok your ready,once we are out there it will be a hoot.
We started out from the wharf ,the sea it was calm,
He said its going to be a good day,we may even catch some clams.

Just out side the harbor,the sea got a little rough,
He seen the worry in my eyes, said awwwww your tough.
If you feel the need ,to lean over the side,
Dont be ashamed, its happen to me when i was just a boy.

When we got to the point ,where land we could no longer see,
We found the markers for his nets ,It was the only thing red in the deep blue sea.
We began to pull the nets over the side, taking fish off as they come,
Baiting the hooks as they went back in so there will be more fish on the next run.

Then all of sudden the wind came up,the waves got even bigger,
My stomach was starting to turn,and i was feeling sicker.
So in haste , he turned the small boat around and headed for land,
I was never so happy, when my feet hit the sand.

I said sorry but fishing isent the life for me,
But thank you so much for letting me see.
So a fishermans life isent for everyone ,thats true,
Of i go to try something new.
© Alan Fitz  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: mits, sea, life, me, sea,
Form: Ballade

Premium Member Sartt

Photo slides amber fed
Mits and gaze
Black and red
Undeveloped 
Painted skepp
Lies undeveloped
Categories: mits, feelings,
Form: Blitz

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Hands ...

One tiny finger poking through the hole in her
     happy kitten mitten
touching window frosting chill
    delicate fragile fingertip
aching for the warmth
          on the other side

~~~~~

Cooly folded.
One atop the other.
Elegantly cultivated confidence.
Quietly calm.
Resting art in their beauty.
Eternally in peaceful repose.

~~~~~

Grizzled grumpy and stumpy.  Used
and useful.  Scarred, calloused,
nails bitten to the quick and still
dirt finds its way beneath.  And with the
delicacy of a hummingbird extracting its meal
from a bloom, clumsy mits gather a bouquet
of buttercups, tulips, lilacs, honeysuckle and tears
to lovingly place upon her grave ~

~~~~~

Frozen little nose joined
    fingertip on window longing
chattering chin accompanies
    quivering knees in the saddest tune
crumpling ...
Oh
    Grizzled hands, loving hands
wrap kitten mittens in aching
longing
   and gently carries her to the inside
warm.
Categories: mits, hope, introspection, life, love,
Form: Free verse

Today Is Tomorrow Only Yesterday

Today is tomorrow only yesterday 
Oh how days go by counting sheep 
May I say this day to be the boy who cries wolf 
Or shall I comment on her dress?
Ribbons tied onto bows archer invisible arrows of love
Reading books' like eyes my jaw 
Omits it's formidable drool
What's that you say? Today is tomorrow only yesterday. 


1/20/17
Categories: mits, fun,
Form: Acrostic

We All Want It

Hating it..hating it
I Hate to admit it.....Hating to admit it........ but no one gives a ****....they were right....late at night .... sucking on mounds and mits
So when I spit on that **** ......... I gotta....I gotta  remember to polite..... keep that rhyme tight.....
Love is precious  ........love is dangerous....Love is adventurous...and arduous.... ....  Love is...love is ...love is.....love
 I Hate say.say it .......I Hate to say it ...  Crave it.But I crave it .crave it….......I Crave it ...the smell of it ...the taste of it..
The Feel of it ...I Just can't....just can't .just can't .... get enough of it.........enough of it....enough of it.....
So here I am .... looking for the one....Looking for the one .....the one who looks like fun.....
A girl with class ....but who likes it in the ass....one with a little sexual Panàsh..........one with a ***** stash
Love is precious....love is dangerous
 I Hate say.say it .say it..I Hate to say it ....But I just crave it .crave it…crave it.......I Crave it ...the smell of it ...the taste of it..
The Feel of it ...I Just can't get enough of it....enough of it .....Can't wait...Can't wait .... to get back to it
 I Hate say.say it say it .....I Hate to say it ....But I crave it .crave it….......I Crave it ...the smell of it ...the taste of it..
The Feel of it ...I Just can't get enough of it......Can't wait...Can't wait ....can't wait to get back to it
Categories: mits, absence, cute love, hate,
Form: Ballad


Premium Member Brandin

Brandin

I's jist gots back frum Y-OM_UN
An wents ta sees ma son un 'is wife
Thay war waitin fur a call ta goes helps a frien
An thays jist throwed me un.

Ut war un tha Kansas plains
Un thay war a brandin that day
I's jist watch-uz frum ma chair
I's uses a cane, taint fair.

I's jist sits un watch-uz
What all's thays done
Un 'long cums a butterfly
Un I's jist hops un.

Ut takes me fur north
Ta er ol' rench'
Un we's war busy
Brandin that day.

I's seed ma kids
Wrestlin calves ta tha groun 
Stan war a brandin
Whiles I's lens a han.

Thays poks um un prods um
Un than thays brans                                                                     
Un than ut's time fer tha man                                                          
With tha knife un his han.                                                                  
                                                                                                        
Un Maw  'er war a cookin'                                                                            
Ta feeds all a tha folks                                                                  
A brandin's a big thin                                                                    
So's we's all jist goes.                                                                    
                                                                                                      
We's never runs short a help
Cause that air er breed
It war tha same ez ut war
Back un l850.
                                                                                 
Wen we's war done
Un thays begans ta pairs
We's jist op-uns tha gate
Un thays un thays own frum thar.

Ma daughter-un-law
Done slaps me's un tha back
"Wal Pa,"sez 'er
"Air youse with us er un Souse Dakotie?"

I's has ta 'mits
I's war back thar
But I's 'justed
Un I's kin makes er frum 'ere

Thins ain't tha same
Ez war way back than
But I's keeps all a tha mem-or-ies
Un re-lives um a'gin.
                       
                                  Cile Beer
Categories: mits, cowboy-western, family, history, love,
Form: Rhyme

Kids Winter Day

As the days grow shorter, and darkness fills the sky.
The chill in the night air, brings tears to the eyes.
You shiver and shake, from your head to your toes,
No matter what you do , you cant stop that running nose.

Winter is here , so the old folks say,
Get out the long johns to wear each day.
Ear muffs and scarf,wool socks and mits,
Comes out of storage to check for the fit.

Now that im dressed and ready to go,
I hear kids outside say , hear comes the snow.
They jump for joy at this beautiful sight,
Soon we will have our first snow ball fight.

As soon as the pond freezes over i know,
Kids will be on it and ready to go.
Hockey sticks in hand, skates on thier shoulders,
Teams are picked , some young some older.

No lights are needed, for its a full moon tonight,
It shines over the pond as if it were daylight.
Bed time is here and to all we must say,
Good night , God Bless to all, for its been a great day.
© Alan Fitz  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: mits, seasonsnight, night,
Form: Rhyme

Traveling Salesmen

Revolution is knocking at the garden gate
With pitchforks and spoons to guard against fate
The people drench me with milk and holy water
And stare at me as if i slept with their daughter
I stand in white suit and a red tie
I look like a half decent guy
My hairs slicked back and my tongue coated in honey 
And i smell like old bars and good money
With a tattered old suitcase in hand
I try to get you to understand
You don't have to sell your soul
That isn't my goal
Just buy some new high quality oven mits
and don't throw a fit
Categories: mits, funny, old, me, old,
Form:

Premium Member Demeanour

Distinct and upright for maturity to be in diaper
Eyes replacing lips, saying words more than that of a rapper
Mouth closes itself, only to open and speak when proper
Emits that sense of certainty that he will surely prosper
All acquaintances want to maintain this link and dig deeper
No serious knowledge of this being who gives free mental supper
On each mind, his charisma and infective aura pamper
Under his feet are prints sensed by many to heal a leper
Reputation, taste and class, far beyond just being on paper
Categories: mits, celebration, celebrity, character, mythology,
Form: Acrostic

What a Fella

What a fella what a lovely fella happened their way
What a generous fella to kindly offer all these gifts and his services for free
He was of the mind to give them some of his grub
But he waited until it got rank and mouldy first
He then offered them a sip of his tea
But thought it best to spit in it first 
He was generous with his backhanded compliments
never missed a beat in his dance of deceit 
his two faced stance well maintained to entice the flies to his web
Bothered to put on a show to appear likeable and relatable too, what a gent
As he knit picked at their lives and put a spin on every word they uttered 
he meant to gently pump them up for intel for reasons known only to himself 
A mission that sadly bounced hard and flopped 
For that last bit I blame who ever created the character of James Bond
Has the likes of him curtain twitching and meddling for dear life
Convinced every foreign woman wants to get their mits on them, I mean resounding yuck please!
His exotic fare he elaborately served on a bed of fake pleasantly, seasoned with a dash of bogus laughter 
He seemed appalled that they could be handed a chance at anything at all
before he got to take at least ten more chances that he doesn't even need
God forbid anyone else aside from him gets any upliftment 
Joy should start and end only with him and his kin
and compassion should only ever be pointed his way
He enjoys his loot only when others stay beneath him, and thrives when disparity amounts 
There is a hole where this man's soul ought to be 
And that's if it was ever there in the first place 
Maybe all he ever had is this humongous gaping emptiness 
that he has to fill at all odds because its eating him alive
It seems it can only ever be filled by him generously spreading misery and contempt
He tries to fill it with greed and a haughty demeanour 
Little does he know it will never suffice 
Somethings no amount of wealth can ever buy
Maybe he never got enough hugs as a child 
I mean one might be born into abject poverty 
but it never stops their parents from raising loving compassionate children, one hug at a time
Sometimes that's all a soul needs to thrive 
What a fella, poor fella with a stone for a heart
and pockets weighed down by gold
Categories: mits, character, england, games, humanity,
Form:

Premium Member The Monkey Trail

We'd leave just after breakfast
play hard all day
there were no cell phones or play dates
we simply gathered up the mates
took off down the monkey trail
ran wild in the thistle fields
chased flyballs on the diamond
collected pop bottles for a nickel a piece
lunch was gulps of warm hose water
a palm filled with stolen plumbs
off again to the train trestle
slinging rocks at muddy beer bottles
flattening pennies on the rails
there were no clocks to tug at our tails.

Sunset was the cue for us to move along
5 speed banana bikes cracking the trail in the half light
mad little monkeys and scratching at our minds
armed with leather mits and Louisville slugger bats
but the ogres and perverts never dare touch us
we were trail toughened little bucks
the warm hose water didn't kill 
we were dirty little dust devils
on a streak of good luck
Categories: mits, childhood,
Form: Free verse

Zone of An Endless Laughter

A-n endless laughter's zone
R-ejects the wretchedness; 
J-oyful place of occasion
O-bliterates the area's mess.

C-heerful day's domain
O-mits the dark from light; 
N-ew dawn of pleasure
R-eiterates the pure delight.
A-mount of mirth is huge
D-ay seven in September; 
E-cstasy fills your home, 
Z-one of an endless laughter.
Categories: mits, birthday,
Form: Acrostic

Radiant Color

B-ehold
L-ife's
E-ffulgent
S-hine
S-eeing

Z-enith
H-appily
E-mits
L-ovely
L-ight
E-yeing

B-eacon
A-s
R-adiant
C-olor
E-rases
L-oneliness
O-f
N-ight

Topic: Birthday of Bless Zhelle A. Barcelon (July 29) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Categories: mits, birthday,
Form: Acrostic

Giving Warmth To All

L-ight
E-mits
R-ays anew
I-n the morning
G-iving warmth to all
R-aces of men
A-voiding
C-hill of
E-ve.

Topic: Birthday of Lerigrace Doble (May 11) 
Form: Acrostic Ninette
Categories: mits, birthday,
Form: Ninette
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