Best Ogle Poems
Inspired by the write of you
creamed through a paper sieve to cup
with both hands the leavings that you trail
the write of you
like the chewed edge of hand pressed paper
like the apostrophe of lash on the cheeky page
I ogle the syncopated semen-antic drop of
the write of you
how often does the wonder of you flash
across the film of my eyes unable reach
for I am so enchanted with the coffee-au-lait
write of you
Categories:
ogle, romance, write, write,
Form:
Free verse
Phwoaarh! Anne-Lise really is hot
‘Old woman’ she really is not
With lovely blonde hair
Men ogle and stare
Her husband has hit the jackpot!
Yesterday a vitriolic comment was made and Anne-Lise was called 'old woman' I hope this tribute and picture prove the exact opposite
6/7/19
Categories:
ogle, anti bullying, beauty, poetess,
Form:
Limerick
I have an aversion to prejudice
Judging a pond without sampling its ice
Consorting with others eating large melons
Passersby judged as free men or felons
Women condemned as whores or harlots
While tormenting men turn the air scarlet
Then sit in the pews reserved for the saintly
Ogle the preacher’s wife ever so daintily
For judgement you see is a way to look down
On those, as they pass, on which you may frown
Knowing that god has made you superior
When in truth you couldn’t kiss their posterior
For consciousness doesn’t offer correction
Unless you can make a change of direction
That is, of course, dependent upon
How much of the ice you take from the pond
Categories:
ogle, judgement, prejudice,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: August 02, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
***************
In the slipshod cradle beneath the apple tree,
a bruised fruit folds ajar—
molten sweet sapidity pooling
through velvet skin.
Eviscerated grace, they say,
but I grasp the quiddity of life unmasked.
A burnt sienna kiss of aurora—
flesh undulating with fungal bloom,
wispy gossamer threads that stitch
the inevitable return to the earth.
It is not ruined.
It is a transformation:
a diaphanous ballet
between death and what dreams may grow.
We ogle brightness,
but rot is brighter still—iridescent with purpose,
alabaster spores pirouetting as sylphlike specters
on a sacred odyssey to placate
the starving soil.
It is seraphic.
It is a panacea.
It is quintessence made humble.
Rapture lies in this ineffable nexus—
decay whispers loud as a lullaby.
The rakish grubs maunder through
a velvet pyre of rind and memory,
and the loquacious beetle sermonizes
on endings as beginnings,
as though time had a gullet
And rot was its sweetest wine.
Call it grotesque.
Call it abhorrent.
But beauty—true, ineffable beauty—
wears many masks.
And in these nebulous throes of perishing,
I watch a face burnished by truth,
smiling with roots in its eyes.
Categories:
ogle, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
From the everyday hubbub I have often fled
to share the stillness enjoyed by the dead.
Over chimes that mark the quarter and the hour
noisy Crows play hide and seek around the tower.
Cross beneath the arch and through the gate
to those here bearing witness to our fate.
Marked by gently listing weathered stone
they lie here all together, all alone.
Through village history I slowly pass
borne on the ebb and flow of unmown grass.
Sarah Smith, taken in eighteen thirty-one
her past just twelve years old, her future gone.
Another Sarah, Eames, near the main porch,
each facet of her tomb topped by a torch.
In a corner by the hedge with beard of moss
a solitary ornate Celtic cross.
Reverend Ogle, keeper once of Church and grounds
now waiting for the final trumpet's sound.
Another cross, lain flat with hole for flowers
rests darkly in the shadow of the tower.
Wind and weather from it's face the name long taken
unknown, but unto God is unforsaken.
Inside the Church in amber candleglow
stand the Alabaster Angels- and they know.
Respectfully I pick my way back to the gate
till next time, and eternity, they wait.
One last glance back, then time to move along,
All Saints calls out the hour
the Crows are gone
Categories:
ogle, god, inspiration, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
Together, we'd swim the depths of our souls,
splashing and playing in love's limpid pools.
And we'd adopt each other's hopes and goals,
love-struck teenagers and romantic fools.
Holding hands, we'd stare at the stars all night,
stealing kisses when no one was around.
And we'd ogle the sky until first light,
watching shooting stars fizzle earthward bound.
And we felt we were both blessed somehow,
confident our love would last forever.
But it didn't; that was then, this is now,
and we no longer believe in never.
Living is a time capsule in itself,
where childish dreams collect dust on a shelf.
Categories:
ogle, 10th grade, age, beautiful,
Form:
Sonnet
Written: September 27, 2023
Love Poem Contest Darla Seely
___________________________________________________________
A poem full of glee and love,
Poke with a rant, a bee-hued as a dove,
Tied into a pair of rich-soul,
In a song of lust, a warm role.
Hush at ease,
Keen opus, fuel the kees.
Body area mold and weld,
A love lilt will bind us as we meld.
With a soft kiss, lips meet with balm,
In this holy cup, feel the vibe of calm.
Lame, warm up the skin,
The ogle spell and the opia fire win.
Eyes shut soul to soul,
Deep crux, zeal goal.
Grin at will, mind teem with glee,
To show that cheer and love, ne'er flee.
All true, Love's has a firm trek,
For me and you, ever peck.
Wrap me in a cozy hug,
The vast boon of love and tug.
So let us glow each day,
In this love poem, the soul will stay.
Love, an art with lines so tall,
Egos rule over all.
Categories:
ogle, analogy, appreciation, cute love,
Form:
Rhyme
Traffic Jam Slam
Who dresses them up and puts them in cars
gives them their keys as they leave the bars
these drivers who sit at the red light and grin
preachers out practicing Sunday’s big sin.
Somehow they think we can’t see inside
as they dig in their noses and ogle with pride
something they found that they should probably hide.
She’s putting on make-up, He’s combing his hair
the kids in the back seat wish they weren’t there.
As the light changes they make that left –SLASH
while plucking the last of their graying eyelash.
They’re texting at red lights so they tend to linger
and when you disturb them they give you the finger.
Then there are those who ride on their bikes
who haven’t matured since they fell off their trykes,
riding on sidewalks and running stop signs
dressing in outfits that require fines.
Who leaves the slow people alone on the street
stuck in the crosswalk – rush hour - dead meat.
Now we have turkeys and the Canada Goose
invading the country, just plain running loose
crossing the highways, honking at us
and if you should hit one – oh what a fuss
PETA will come with a camera and crew,
let the whole world get a good look at you.
So put on your make-up and straighten that hair
your fifteen minutes of fame is frighteningly near.
For SKAT A slam the slam contest
John G. Lawless
5/31/2014
Categories:
ogle, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Please sir don’t sell me to that man
I beg you sir, I’ll behave as I can
I heard that he whips his slaves with lashes
And burn them with cigarettes and…..
Make them eat their ashes
Please sir please I beg your kind heart
Please sir, please let us leave this mart
I beseech you sir not to sell me to that ogre
My dear lord! He’s starting to look at me and ogle!
Please sir don’t be deceived by his money and pomp
Because he keeps girls whether in his bed or tomb!
Please sir, keep me and I’ll be your obedient slave
Please sir don’t send straight to hell and grave
I heard that he makes his slaves work till they fall
And when one does, he tortures him till goes out his soul
But if some of them survived on and got old
He shoots them! Indeed sir! That’s what I’ve been told
(After yoking them and exploiting their toil and plod
He drinks sweet wine, and they taste their own blood)
Then he throws their bodies into the river
He’s the devil himself, I heard like such doings never
Please sir, keep me as your possession
And save me from his cruelty and aggression
Please sir don’t be affected by his amount of gold
And whatever happens please don’t say to him: Sold!
Categories:
ogle, evil, fantasy, men, slavery,
Form:
Rhyme
Went to the mall to ogle all the young fillies
Their shorts are way shorter than back in the fifties
Not complaining my friends
But some parts do ascend
A natural reaction to their bouncy young titties
Categories:
ogle, youth,
Form:
Limerick
DEATH'S SHADOW!
Death has a shadow of an effervescent wall.
A whore is defined but to never exist in the world.
This child is of spirit and soul but death’s shadow savors her.
A girl lies in her resting place,
To sleep and dream up beautiful images.
Where the darkness is light relishes.
Brothels of men appear.
She is only four years point six months old.
Prophecies begin to unfold.
Was she the chosen one?
She does not enjoy what has formed.
She runs into her mother’s room.
Highly favored, she is consoled.
She is held closely until she falls asleep.
Her mother tucks her in.
Phantasm is this girl transition into her spiritual orbs.
She sees each body normal with her bare eyes.
She does not ogle.
Through fear, she embraces slumber.
Dynamism will be known.
Death’s shadow is unveiled.
\___________\______________/
Penned on December 06, 2014!
Categories:
ogle, childhood, dark, death, spiritual,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
As tears flow from my reddened eyes
I can see what I have purely missed
As I look up to the dark grey skies
I will always remember our first fist
I sit here and think of your face
The first time I saw your light fluffy cheeks
I always wanted to lay my head on that place
Even when I was buried in my girlfriend’s twin peaks.
You never knew my love for you
I waited until it was too late
I often yearned for a way through
Both your heart and your front gate.
But now you’ve passed away
Slipped through my limp and lifeless fingers
But I still yearn for that fortuitous day
And the smell of your tobacco colour coat still lingers.
As I stare at my homage dedicated to you
I can feel a heart shaped hole called ‘Noah’
My body is conflicted, I don’t know what to do
It’s such a shame that you were found in pieces underneath a lawnmower.
So many holes, and opportunities now
I feel my body grow harder
For you Noah would only allow
One hole to be ventured in farther
As you led there erotically
on the grass that day
with your legs so lovely
I couldn’t take my eyes away
So I didn’t see
The lawnmower draw near
The blades running free
And beginning to career
Ever closer to your toes
To impoverish your heart
I’m the only one who knows
How a love like this does start
To think I won’t see you again
Striding majestically down the Bath Road
And, protecting your shoulders from the rain
Your little tobacco coloured coat
I wish I had been able to say
All this to you when you were alive
I came so close once, that fateful day
When we were standing outside the Beehive
Your hair was golden in the glow
Of the solitary standing streetlamp
Yet still, you couldn’t ever know
My feeling for you or my heart would cramp
And now you’re dead you selfish thing
You’ll never hear me speak these thoughts
You’ll never feel me ‘flap my wings’
Or ogle me as I cavort
But now you’re in the ground
In the darkness and despair
But I have now created a mound
Where I can collect your hair
My heart is soaked in liquid salt
My clothes cling to my body
Although I know that it’s no-one fault
Staring at you was my favourite hobby
Now it’s time to say goodbye
My lovely little pet
My heart still yearns, my eyes still cry
Although we never met
Categories:
ogle, allah, anniversary, baptism, beach,
Form:
Elegy
A lecherous man from Milan
Will ogle whenever he can
The shorter the skirt
The more he will flirt
Guess he’s just a dirty old man!
15th June 2015
Categories:
ogle, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Snow streams
in the bright tunnel
of my headlights
it slows the bugs
but I’m fully loaded
on the edge of flying
my music LOUD
a schedule to meet
and only death
can stop me.
I’ll ogle babes
at truckstops
and the bar
on my off days
but on the highway
I don’t look inside
a bug’s skin
and keep my
eyes on the road
and both hands
on the wheel
so we’ll all reach
home alive.
Snow streams
in the bright tunnel
of my headlights
eighteen wheels
of diesel thunder
a schedule to meet
and only death
can stop me.
Categories:
ogle, work,
Form:
Free verse
As a child it was fun and quite daring
To ogle what the other was carrying
We hid in the loft
Where we played quite oft
To inspect what the other was baring
Copyright © 2010 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Fifth Place Winner ~ "There once was a man from Dunkirk ” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Deborah Guzzi
Feb. 15, 2011
Categories:
ogle, childhood,
Form:
Limerick