Best Nickers Poems
Those little bridges
Perfect eyebrows
Half-moons
trampled by feet
that don't care
callously tarry.
The questions in
extinguished glances
a play staged for
dwindling feet
for faces are shameful
from corners of eyes
under fading half moon
a price charged
negotiated in the red glare
of evening wet cobblestones.
The heavy sweet scent
nickers around corners
eyebrows raised
over glassy eyes
sitting between evening
hordes of cut-off legs
senseless lemmings
that walk, walk
to nowhere.
***
August 21, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
I will drink coffee in the morning and a glass of wine in the evening.
I will laugh and tell stories of my youth like my forefathers had done.
I will write treasured memories down and look back on the journals
I have written and admire how my life was shaped by fate and luck.
I will wear my hat with pride though outdated by decades,
I will live with no regrets.
Life is what is. Created for me to create.
I will write with strength and wisdom of my own experiences,
And what my elders have taught me, keeping traditions heart beating.
I will share my life and those I have known, by words of rhythm and rhyme.
I will go the barn and smell clean hay,
Watch my horses play.
I will love the sunrise and admire the sunsets,
When I am old.
I will smell my horses sweet breath, feel his whiskers on my cheek,
I will listen to their soft nickers in the morning,
Promises never understood, but known.
I will wear hay in my hair as if a halo.
A gift given by such noble friends.
I will sit and listen to the steady rhythmic grind as they quietly eat.
Watch their breath steam lazily into the frosty morning.
As I look into their bold eyes,
I see they are patiently waiting
For me to know, what they know
And waiting for the woman I am yet to become.
As for now,
I am just learning how to walk.
Always wanted to know what it was like to be a woman
so I bought myself two small melons a wig and a bra.
ooh my back was aching within an hour.
I bought a lovely dress from walmart
pantyhose and a handbag from a bizarre
I tried on a pair of woman's nickers
but they were too small by far.
I bought a pair of red stilettos
how the hell do you walk in them
I decided the dress was too long
and took up the hem
Trying to walk in my shoes
was like trying to walk on the moon
I was wobbling all over the place
Finding a bra that fit was a nightmare
and really nipped
I painted my face with make up
and put lipstick on my lips.
I looked in the mirror
and I must admit
I looked gorgeous
So I put a photo on face book
and got over a million instant hits
from men, maybe I shouldn't have took up that hem
People treated me differently
and politely opened with a smile
I got a dozen wolf whistles or more
Then something terrible happened
I was stood by the roadside waiting
for a taxi I must have been stood in the wrong place
never been their before
I was arrested by the law
I had a lot of explaining to do
but the judge was really nice
and winked at me once or twice
So I decided to hung up my handbag and my bra
I had really learned my lesson
it was much easier to be a man than A woman by far.
Peter Dome. copyright.2012.
(Eliza strokes the door. A thought is visibly pushing through her mind)
Eliza: I think...I want to know.
Martha: How does it feel?#
Eliza: There''s something there. Right behind it. Someone. Pulling me.
Martha: Eliza...why are you here?
Missie: Oh stop prying. She''s just gonna leave soon anyway. They all do.
Eliza: We tried for months. Toby and I. You know, we never quitre fit, and I always thought that a baby would be the glue that we needed to fit us together. A little kicking screaming ball of glue. And when I fell pregnant he looked at me like he loved me, genuinly loved me, for the first time since I had met him. People held us like we were real. Held me, like I existed. All fat and full and real. Four months. That''s all it lasted. It ended in a pool of blood on the bathroom floor. He did his best, Toby. He held my hand when I cried...for a while. Tollerated me lying in bed for days on end...for a while. He just didn''t understand.
Missie: You mean he didn''t care. Look, the guy didn''t want a baby. God, move on already.
Eliza: I tried! But we weren''t right. We didn''t fit. Just going through the motions. In the end we were juust faking...we both knew it. We were off to my brother''s wedding, big fake smiles painted on, and I ended up here.
Missie: He sounds like a right catch...
Eliza (deffensively): Yeah? And why are you here? You don''t have enough compassion to mourn, let alone to be a mother.
Missie: I didn''t have a kid. I had a cyst growing under my school shirt. An ever expending mistake, for the whole world to see, so fat I couldn''t see my own feet. I found the thing parents. Soppy freaks like you guys. You know, people who would actualy give a ****. And the ungrateful thing stripped avery inch of life from me. Died and took me with him. I was forteen. Fourteen. Tell me how that''s fair.
Eliza: Do you know what''s not fair? I wanted, needed nothing more than a baby. You drop your nickers in some dirty nightclub, get given this, this gift, and you want to give it away! That''s what''s not fair.
(Martha hasn''t seen such confronation in fifty years. She pulls Eliza away from Missie)
Martha: Eliza, give her a chance. It''s all front. She''s not as awful as she seems. She''s sad. Just like us.
There was a young lady called Mary Lou,
She wore no nickers to make it quicker to poo,
Her parents protestations fell flat and useless their cries,
She'd reply "When eating water melon it sure as hells distracts the flies".
Snickers
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Witches'
Nickers
Poetic Form: Footle
Loaded up and gassed
Got a four-day pass
Ramblin' in the Rockies
...Coquihalla holiday
Crested o’er the pass
Hope the brakes’ll last
Needle Peak behind me
...Coquihalla holiday
Driver’s turnin’ pale
Down the Devil’s Tail
To Othello. It's a mother.
...Coquihalla holiday
Evening shadows fade
Running down grade
Almost got it made
...Coquihalla holiday
Morning shining in
Y’oughta see my grin
It’s heaven past eleven
...Coquihalla holiday
Appaloosa pony
A meadow in the morning
Nickers at the flicker
...Coquihalla holiday
Cabin In the pines
Think I’ll wet myself a line
Cakes and bacon fryin’
...Coquihalla holiday
Bonfire burning bright
Tamarack alight
Purple sunset fades
...Coquihalla holiday
Okanagan moon
Listening to the loon
Coyote start to croon
...Coquihalla holiday
Hockey on my radio
Oilers putting on a show
Win it in a shout-out
...Coquihalla holiday
Kokanee on ice
Cubans are my vice
“Dominos or dice?”
...Coquihalla holiday
Me and Lady Missy
Getting kind of pissy
Sipping on that whiskey
...Coquihalla holiday
All that I can say,
A Canuck can have a day
Relaxin’ in the mountains
...Coquihalla holiday
https://globalnews.ca/tag/coquihalla/
She bares the marks of a life lived hard, her face the giveaway. Faint scar above her brow, chipped tooth, deep furrows that should be gentle crow feet to compliment her gorgeous eyes. She used to be pretty, now a concrete blonde of fading beauty. Named Roberta as a baby, but the few, privy to this information have since taken it to the grave, to all who ebb and flow from her life, simply Bobby.
Bobby wandered into town, who knows when. Her faded blue jeans slid forward on the weathered wooden bench outside the general store. From the recesses of her mind, she could recall only one occasion from her childhood when a dress draped her lanky frame. She hated it so much it was unceremoniously discarded, playing outside in her nickers at a 10th birthday party. From that day forward, only jeans. She never wore jewellery, her only adornment was a tarnished belt buckle sitting over the top of her Buckskin shirt. Bobby’s battered hat sat propped over her knee, she held a Coke as she waited on the bench.
It had been more than half a century since he saw Bobby. The pained, memory of her hair swaying, catching the golden sunlight on her back as he watched her walk away. Now, as he climbed the veranda, he knew it was her, faded, like his memories, but the, ever young, eyes, danced with life and he was drawn to them once again. Neither spoke as he eased his body onto the bench, their legs pinched together. A light breeze filtered through the thoroughfare, causing the rusty sandwich sign to creak and grown. He pulled his blues harp from the top pocket of his shirt and his breath eased across the chords. Bobby chuckled before she sang.
His lips stopped moving, he smiled with the realisation that at 78 years, he was trading what was left of his tomorrows for this moment in time. He slid his hand over Bobby’s and went still. Bobby held him for a long time, she sobbed. Tears flowed for a misspent life, sobbed for what could have been, sobbed at the cost of her freedom as it dawned on her that It wasn’t just another word for nothing else to lose. The floodgates opened as she truly lost.
Bobby stood on the highway, thumb out. The horizon held the ominous sign of approaching rain. An old diesel truck pulled up and she climbed aboard, she lifted the harmonica and said, “Do you want me to play?”
ice skating was not his dear wife’s forte,
so he bought her membership for birthday,
she started with a skid and fall,
view of her crotch was free for all,
“ dear”, said he, “if you need nickers, please just say!”
10,10,8,8,10 limerick with rhyme of 1,2,5 line
and 3,4th line!
2nd placement
Sponsor Tania Kitchin
Written 28/12/2020
That summer rain has come again
and no telling what you’ll find,
a day of swimming in the street
leaving all your troubles behind.
Everyone get your nickers on and
dive in and have some fun,
it’s a brand new day and we’re
groovin’ in the magic of the sun!
The hottest day on July of 1956
has become one to remember,
it won’t be long until we feel
the snow in late December.
The kids know not of electronics
just simple days of pleasure,
making their own amusement
beyond time or measure.
Entertainment was so unpretentious
with modest swimming wear,
everyone has found enjoyment
without a single care.
Hang on tight to the street lamp
and in the wade in flood,
who cares if your feet get dirty
in the murky mud!
I’ve never seen such laughter
from the kids in the neighborhood,
there’s never been a day like this
to put all in a good mood.
Joking here and recreation there
with jollity and good cheer,
so, come and join us in the water,
you’re all welcome here!
Hot Summer Day
Eve Roper
September 4, 2017
How many times have you looked at yourself
And wished you were someone new
You don't like what you see right now
And your voice you really hate too
You feel as though your bums to big
Or your hair to messy or short
Your shoes don't match the pants you wear
And you hate this shirt you just brought
There's wrinkles showing on your face
And bulging through your clothes
Your bras to tight and nickers to small
There's so much that you loathe
It now takes time to get it right
Is it really worth the while
To dress up this, that's getting old
And parade a little fake smile
Your not as young as you want to be
Or fit as you would like
Exercise is now a chore
And so is riding a bike
Although these changes I may not like
I can accept them now
For with age does come with blues
But we do get through somehow
Age is something we all can't fight
So let go of all your fears
And then you'll realise so enough
It was not worth all those tears
The wife wants an handsome young hunk
To cavort with in his own bunk
And she would be happy
If you made it snappy
As she's prone for ye olde slam dunk!
I am looking for something white
To make my winter oh so bright
Snow falling is a beautiful sight
When going for a walk on a winters night
But looking outside on the ground
All i see is green all around
No snow anywhere to be found
And that really brings me down
I know there is snow somewhere out there
That maybe someone would care to share
Pack it up in a freezer bag
Put a note attached with the tag
It should read sending this snow to put a smile on a face
So please keep in a very cold place
I am sending it on an urgent flight
To make a winter become oh so bright
If it melts befour it gets there
Send it still if you dare
Cause you would really put that girls nickers in a knot
If snow is what she is looking for and water is what she got
the buxom girl on the monkey bars,
swung around, legs open wide, on arms,
she wore her lace nickers on her head,
that raised general public alarms.
All men watched standing, all stiff erect,
most bachelors, one with wedding ring,
no one cared! what’s moral or correct?
why resist, when lass does such a thing?
A beguiling fool lonely and lost
Created chaos looking for love
Stirring and seducing every skirt in his wake
No shame no morality a gutless snake
In the midst of his bliss so happy was he
Forgetting himself he’d forgotten to pee
Soaked were his nickers crotch to his socks
Untucked his shirt so that he could walk
No longer held high was the snakes’ head
Embarrassed and whimpering face all red
He rushed to his home to get himself clean
His friends cheered him on pointing with glee
Kharmas’ a twist that turns round on fate
When you harm someone it will be at your gate