Best On The Sly Poems
Our house is abuzz
With Me, Bella and Jess
And Mummy is all delight
“Dad’s coming home tonight! “
The Cake has been made
The table has been laid
Candles are alight
Dad will be home tonight!
Mum’s wearing polka dots
Dress, Dad had bought
She looks pretty, so bright!
Dad will be home tonight.
Jess was only two
When dad had to go
He still remembers him, right?
Can’t wait for Dad tonight!
Bella’s dream is a soprano
And so deft with the piano
She will make it a musical nite
When daddy’s home tonight!!
But me? I am a bit too shy
So I did this song on the sly
Plan to place it under his desk-light
Hope Dad will read it tonight!
Dad may have stories from afar
Of his travels and the war
Tales of nobility and military might
At the dinner table tonight.
Just imagine him at the door
Big smile, Open arms for us four
His loving grasp will be tight
When he comes home tonight.
There is a knock on the door!
We all cheer and roar!!
Mum is there on a flight,
Jess lisps, “is it already tonight?”
Four soldiers stand at our gates,
They must be his work mates,
Mum’s voice is soft in fright
“Is he coming home tonight?”
Voices drown as the men depart
Mum is back, her hand on heart
Slowly her legs yield to her weight
“Daddy won’t be coming home tonight!”
See how the ocean glides back in to kiss the shore?
In my minds eye
They have met on this sand floor
Many times before
With a soft caress on the sly.
See how the ocean glides back in to kiss the shore?
As birds soar
High
They have met on this sand floor.
He brings shells and driftwood for her to explore
Then leaves being shy.
See how the ocean glides back in to kiss the shore?
Could a lover ask for anymore?
She says nigh.
They have met on this sand floor
Declaring their love as if no one has done it before
To any passer by.
See how the ocean glides back in to kiss the shore?
They have met on this sand floor......
Aren't many or any finer than Dan me ol mucker & china who now looks out for nightmare cooks or crooks making money off the books with rare meat on dirty hooks in filthy nooks but don't care want to give him a shiner for saying don't be hasty or cheat prepare pukka tasty tucker & succour...safe fayre to eat for every diner...
Owners booming hysteria at inspector criteria
Kitchens so unclean like a war scene in Liberia
Zooming in you find they're grooming Listeria
Rightly fuming that it is blooming like wisteria
Hardly stellar told fella to have old mortadella
Rank covered in dank mould stank in the cellar
Dan who's a fan of Paul Weller is a fortune teller
Scores on doors stop more spores of Salmonella
Suss some are no faff or fuss a them & us schism
Despairing whiners cuss not caring about criticism
Cleanliness next to Godliness just an anachronism
Foolish witticism as diners get ghoulish botulism
Out of date food they buy deny do things on the fly
Just comply no treason and here’s the reason why
If duff stuff you season on the sly to try and get by
The Council’s the fall guy as folks do die from Ecoli
Hunch lunch or brunch scare dodgy ware of tupper
Owners get shirty but it’s so dirty can’t serve supper
Ask my man Dan this is not a masterplan to scupper
A public sector inspector would rather have a cuppa
I have been told I keep a secret well,
oh yes, tell me any deep, dark and personal thing;
and I will keep it under wraps- you can trust me,
to keep it in a locked drawer and throw away the key.
Now, tell me everything while I make us tea.
Don't feel shy, we are behind closed doors,
you have my solemn promise I will keep it confidential;
our conversation is top secret and classified,
you have my curiosity- you must be hiding something serious.
Is it about a secretive lover quite mysterious,
oh do tell, I am starting to get delirious.
Yes, I know you are a very private person,
and like to keep your personal problems to yourself;
but revealing what you have concealed will make you free,
I have known you for years and your life to me is still invisible.
Now, here is your tea and are you cozy- need a snack,
maybe some wine to loosen your lips a crack;
remember, whatever it is I have your back.
I will sit and listen as you tell me your secret story,
and say nothing except to nod and smile as we go along;
so, you have a lover you keep on the sly,
and you meet in a secluded place in disguise.
More tea- and you send each other secret mail,
that you both destroy so there is no message trail;
its my boyfriend! Okay, tell me each pathetic detail.
___________________________
December 27, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/'Tell Me, I Can Keep a Secret'
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1098-599-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Contest: Secret
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
Third Place
Crowned with a tiara,precious white,
crashing at the heels turquoise tide.
here all known colors exude through ,
at every step diversities brew.
The winds of past,
would forever last.
waltzing around the weaver's needle,
or reverberating through the artisan's chisel.
through the mystic roads,
clad in saffron robes.
saints chase the ultimate solution,
--a path towards salvation.
Not in a folklore or a song
here the palanquin bears the daughter along.
tied knots* are too strong to break,
solemn promises for eternity are made.
witness a reverse in clock,
the ideals in bricks and blocks.
or a picture of originality,
during the frolics of festivity.
here in happiness skylines swell with kites*,
the earthen diyas* set all corners alight.
Holi* makes the faces hued,
Of the past all feuds are subdued.
in reverence for the Gods of health,
and the Goddesses of wealth
the rangolis* are drawn at the thresholds
welcoming them to dwell their households.
Knowing no constitutional provisions,
or land demarcations,
Almighty on the seventh sky,
strolls down here on the sly.
May this land beneath His hand hail,
may never the people fail.
within its splendor shall we reside,
its the land by the sea side!
*tied knots--refers to the relationships
*kites--are flown on makar sakranti (a festival) It is a harvest festival. On this occasion the sky is filled with kites
*diyas--earthen bowls in which oil is used and they are lit on the auspicious festival of diwali as a mark of dispelled darkness when good won over evil.
*holi-is a spring festival celebrated as a festival of colours.
Chocolate Covered Cherries
How ooey gooey good
Oh how I love the sweetness
Chocolate never tasted so good
Only one is not enough
Love them as I do
And I await them anxiously
Then buy and hoard a few
Eaten on the sly
Chocolate Covered Cherries
Only once a year
Venders put them on display
Enticing far and near
Really never see them
Except at Christmas time
Don't share the last box
Chocolate Covered Cherries
Here but for awhile
Each confectioner's delight
Really makes me smile
Rich and smooth so very sweet
Inside a hidden cherry
Eat them slowly, make them last
Special luscious treat
A drunkard, a thief and a con man,
Who was known by the name Greedy Jack,
Lived a life so vile Satan watched him awhile,
Said, "Of sin in his life there's no lack."
He decided to pay Jack a visit.
Thought with this man he'd have some fun.
Said, "Jack, you're an ass. You ain't got no class.
You're coming with me, Man you're done."
Jack asked him for one final favor.
One last night of drinks on the town.
Satan agreed, Jack really could plead,
And Satan and Jack made the rounds.
When at last the night's drinking was done,
Jack said, "I've no money. You pay.
Turn yourself into coin and the drinks we'll purloin.
We'll slip out the door free and gay.
The devil agreed to the trickery,
And turned into some coin on the sly.
But while he was coin Jack made sure he was joined,
In his pocket with crosses, Belied.
Jack said he would free him if he,
Would grant him ten years to be free.
The devil agreed and he'd have all he'd need,
But in ten years he must pay the fee.
In ten years the devil was back,
And Jack knew he had to think fast.
He asked for an apple for he wanted to sample,
The sweet apple tree they'd just passed.
The devil once more agreed.
He even got him to climb up and pick it.
But while he climbed the tree Jack whipped out three,
Silver crosses to lay there beneath it.
Jack told him that he'd let him down,
But first he must grant one last boon.
He'd not pay for his crimes to the end of all time,
And the devil agreed as he fumed.
Jack thought that he'd won the match,
But time passed and he grew old and sick.
He knew he must die and he let out a cry,
"God forgive me I'm all out of tricks.
But God would not let him in,
And Satan said a deal is a deal.
You must wander the earth, this now is your berth.
You're stuck Man. Now how does it feel.
Satan gave him an ember of coal,
To light his dark path as he left.
He carved out a tuber, he felt in a stupor.
He'd use this for a lantern he guessed.
So he now walks the earth a lost soul.
Not wanted in Heaven or Hell.
With a coal in a pumpkin at least he has somethin',
To light his dark path 'cross the fell.
Go to the sea if you feel slight
On a blue draped dreamy night
When the sliver disc of the sky
Dances with the sea on the sly
Riding silent waves rising high
Reach the moon you would try
Cut slice of still sea on its side
Like the birthday cake liquefied
Drink to celebrate time you got
Someone for you has brought.
The sea would enter you serene
With a piece of moon's silver sheen
That sparkles broken on the wave
A dear birthday gift you can have
And save in your heart’s recess
The waves would drive in pulses
Blue blood in cascading arteries
And transmit harmonic melodies
To the heart that would beat in glee
With the rhythm of the dancing sea
You would invent an abode to reside
Hear songs someone singing inside
For you would be lifted above
The rolling waves silent in love.
Written : August 26, 2017
March 29, 2020
Contest : Strand Choice T, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The roses are the best at the tree
The eyes on them rejoice
Gather the iris spree
Say Aah with the glee in the voice
When from the branches quite high
Someone plucks a few and then leaves
In a bunch on a tray on the sly
A little irritation under the sleeves
What I am not inclined to do for myself
A sky like attitude is doing that for me
Somewhat hesitantly I see it there on the shelf
But then on the flower there is also a bee
Out of the pink a heart incognito
The molecules of the love-laden mind
Rejoicing at the fact that I cannot say no
To the Premium membership and does it hiding behind
You are a good soul whoever you are
Though the difference doesn't matter much for me
In the harsh daylight you are in the hidden stars
Thank you for the cup of tea
April 12, 2018
A'int life funny, the person that you thought was your soul -mate for life
caused you anger, pain, heartache and strife
A'int life funny,
Undoubtledly you were in love with him, but was he with you
You poured out your heart and soul, bending over backwards, twisting and turning
like an acrobat
Just to hear him say what have you done for me lately
Like you owe this so and so, good-for-nothing kind of guy, working on the sly
While you are asking yourself why
Here we go again and again now what's the plan. trying to understand where
you now stand, or stood, wishing you understood, how you could end up in
the same place, trying to erase, but you can't face listening to the same old song
Want to be wrong, trying to keep on and on
Trying to seek peace, cannot release the breath that you are holding in
so that the pain inside of you does not come out exploding like a torpedo
on the go
Trying to find a hiding place inside yourself
Sometimes when we think life has done us wrong, it's actually a blessing in
disguise, hiding behind the mask is happiness for you, and you try to pull
through, because you feel like this is the un-doing of you
You don't even know from this point on where to go
Up and down feelings wrapped around cutting off your air supply while
you die inside
Then again think to yourself it's not the money
Just for you to realize, now a'int life funny
“The colorful collage of nature’s marvels makes
a tapestry of vibrant delight”. Quote by Poet
The clumps of climbing cotton clouds float away,
brush the azure of the ashen summer sky.
The returning birds bathe in the blue bay,
in the amber twilight to the auburn nest they fly,
as autumn arrives with chromatic charisma on the sly.
In the lucent sunburst sky the golden horizon
splits the surreal sunbeam in spectrum of radiant rays,
the sparkle of hues from its palette colors the dawn.
Drooped down slender blades of fawn grass sway
in crisp air on the lap of meadow turning green from gray.
The pasture wears the crafted crown of topaz dew,
flickers with pearly flair of dawn’s chalcedony glow.
Lining the sun-splashed cinnabar garden path paved anew,
dry trunks of the sepia trees stand on the sienna soil fallow,
the crimson leaves rustle with autumn’s footfall slow.
The scarlet sunset sets fire in the fading satin sky,
makes a mesmeric collage of vermillion ember bright.
Soaking its cherry radiance I wait with spirit rising high
to greet the sapphire stars sprouting in pellucid autumn night,
draped by cerulean moondust I’m suffused with colorful delight.
(30.4.75: the USA abandons its ally, South Vietnam:
Darwin Judge is the last American to die in Saigon)
Don't ever tell me this was dignified.
I never want to hear of heads held high,
of brothers-in-arms, or marching out with pride.
Just take the pain. It's how it was. Don't lie.
On Wednesday April thirtieth, we ran.
We scurried from the post we should defend,
abandoning the flag, the 'wife', the plan.
We scrambled out, and didn't take our friends.
They washed up all around us, thick as kelp.
To linger here was worse than death. They knew.
Whom else but us could they beseech for help?
We climbed aboard without them. Off we flew.
"White Christmas" played bizarrely, over again,
and big white guys with guns backed from the line
where squatted cooks and cleaners, handymen.
Our time had come to go. This was the sign.
We were their only hope. But, on the sly,
(John Wayne we weren't. Not even Dennis Hopper.)
so no-one would wise up, we - Semper Fi -
snuck sheepishly aboard the final chopper.
I spread layers of laughter in a long baking pan,
with a rhythm that twists the smoky scent I can scan.
Five lines per slice, I assemble carefully quick,
make this dish pulsate and glint like a limerick.
First sheet, a town and a person, famed or unfamed,
second, an odd trait that need not be tamed.
The rhyme goes A-A, then loosens its tight grip,
repeats at the last layer with a tag line flip.
Short lines on top, longer anapest pasta below,
the meter stumbles slightly, then steals the show.
B-B ricotta and spinach creep in the middle on the sly
with simmering mozzarella that doesn’t overflow dry.
I season the dish with nonsense spice, lively and loud,
a crispy curl at the base makes the last layer proud.
With light ragu sauce I garnish the humorous trait,
just with the perfect comical timing I bake it great.
The final ingredient is hilarity with melodramatic bend,
with a twist at the end to be served with fun to a friend.
Topped off with a punch line parmesan. that is hot,
I cook the best meal, limerick lasagna, in poetry pot.
One day, a convict got away, and went out on the lam.
And on the sly, he did buy, his very own kitchen cam.
Wanting to glow, in a reality show, though not a ham.
This jailbird, much preferred, to star in the Joy of Spam.
For Rhyme Battle contest
Same time
Same place
Different color
Of the face
Same K-12 system
Same university
Different college
Who gained
More knowledge?
Who excelled?
Who got more hell?
Same job
Same school
Same students
Same certification
Different degrees
Who stayed
On their knees?
Both of us
Yes, indeed.
Who achieved
Honestly?
Well let’s see!
Same time
Same place
Different color
Of the face
I made it
By God’s grace
You are
A Satanic disgrace.
You are the
Face of hateful
Hypocrisy
I settle for
None of your
Fallacious foolishness
And malicious mediocrity.
Same hometown
I keep it real
You a damn clown
God’s giving you
A furious frown
A lazy witch
Probably born rich
Living in the sticks
Killing nature’s beauty
Just to get away
From people like me
An earth killer
Fake teacher
And destiny stealer
A true thriller
Makin fake scrilla
I worked hard
While you pressed bricks
Storing awful ATP
To make sure
You got the best of me
And people from my
Community.
My adenosine triphosphate (ATP)
From glycolysis in my body
After Krebs cycle
Gives off love
While yours come
From hate
We’ve had the same bodily
Processes similar chemical makeup
I just have more melanin
You act the way you act
Because of your grandfather’s mistakes
I hate to see your fate
If you don’t change
You are devilish
And deranged
I know your game
Your name
We’re from the same turf
You and I
Are carbon based products
One tries hard daily to be just
So that when the minister
Says ashes to ashes
And dust to dust
That I get the reward
I deserve
You got my reward
I still work hard
My ATP
Detests the enemy
It ain’t fair
That we walked in the same place
Respect you received
And hate slapped me in the face
Walking around with on your face
Did a dissertation on me
If I looked like you
With my knowledge
At 23 I would have had
Ten PhD’s.
Girl please you got the nasty woman disease
Get on your knees for the right reas’
Pray to us Jes’
Save me from being a real bigot
And sometimes on the sly
Help me to love you
And all your creatures
And accept diversity
You need help with that dirty blond hair
Pony tails sticking in the air
Depicting your true savior
Not mine that will catch the one’s
That are still alive and in Him
Up in the midair.