Best Outrageously Poems
Something minute had been carefully tucked away, it was a nut
Got loose, rolled helplessly away, had no direction afraid, she shut
Her eyes, and slowly rolled towards a destined force,
An eager bolt nearby bolt gave her the eye, she thought to pause,
She looked at him said hi, but continued to roll and to strut,
The bolt flirted outrageously with this shiny nut, that felt
Maybe he should be bolted onto her, but quick action was now due
The feeling in his gut sent urgent message, he whispered to
the nut, that next door, there was an empty little hut, she thought a bit
But excited so surprised, she rolled her eyes, was not about to quit,
They tumbled and bumped and arrived at the hut together, at ease
but excited, she coyly asked, may we use a washer please.
Mama held me close to her bosom
wouldn't let me go astray
she shook the cradle of civilization
and to her wayward offspring
she paid attention.
She added a tinge of color to the cheeks of some
and tinted plenty with even more
for identification, as to whom they belonged.
While her purported gaze
stored us from mediocrity
she whispered silent pants
when our future's prowess
begun to shiver she remained astute.
Mana Africa! I call you by this name
You've nullified all bleak spectrum
situations bestowed on us
when frequent ill-health
pounded on our weary hearts
you trembled --never loss guard
We are forever indebted to your
unflinching affirmation of sheer solidarity
Mana Africa!
your goodwill seizes not to elude
Capricious speeches we confer
as we orate about the trying times
The soundbites of your caresses will never
be deserted; let alone our appraisal of celerity
The best of we your “Adeptus Children”
have supplied the melatonin
from your sacred womb
and you have followed us with
love and self determination
as we have toiled on foreign soil
Then as we have been scattered
to the four corners;
Innately we have held on to our sanity.
Stayed in tuned to our intuition
as we have maintained circadian rhythms
and overcame enough, clinging to
our dignity in one hand and our
lives in the other, still to rise above.
Nana has taught us to endure
to be courageous, outrageously
courageous we have been.
even as we achieved
Our circadian rhythms were off beat.
Sacrifices only a mother would make
from the alchemy of adoration comes her love
self-determination is the water of her blood
and she the blood in our veins
the blood passed on...a mother’s blood...
Mana Africa
Ase’
A collaberatetion withYoung Prince Kennedy from Ghana and Mama Oladeji aka Vicki Acquah
I'm not overly fond of receiving a family's annual gushing story,
In the form of a Christmas Letter stating that all is hunky-dory.
I received one the other day in which they told the honest truth,
And I'll relay its contents though of me it may be somewhat uncouth!
"My son Jimmy who was in the army gave a sergeant a lot of sass,
And was unceremoniously invited to leave the service by the army brass!
Daughter Sarah became in a 'family way' bringing me much disgrace.
The father of the kid left the state and of him there is not a trace!"
"Son Robert attempted to rob a bank and now languishes in jail.
The judged sentenced him to twenty years sans the benefit of bail.
My husband up and left me for that hussy waitress at Joe's Cafe.
That left me with little money, having to keep bill-collectors at bay!"
"My sister fell on hard times and moved in with her three little brats.
She also brought along three hounds, a nasty parrot and two hissing cats!
My trusty old 85 Chevy blew a rod and left me without wheels;
I can't afford another car because of outrageously high-priced deals!"
She goes on to say, "I hope all has gone well at your house this year.
As you can see, this past year ain't been one for me of great cheer!"
I appreciated her honesty but found her dismal plight quite appalling.
Her letter left me quite bereft and before you know it, I started bawling!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Wait a minute, in my dream last night
I met the guy who fit just right
Vivid memory coming through
Of me finally meeting you
Golden purple dreamy haze
Moments caught inside your gaze
Touches, kisses, magic, whole
In this dream filled time we stole
Laughing, grinning, soft caresses
Holding hearts and healing stresses
Exploring childlike what we bring
Playful Fingers wandering
I've held your hand inside my mind
Now it's warmth is real this time
I've seen your face and your eyes staring
And now I feel their gentle caring
Your taste your touch your look and smell
Tantalizing treat, all is well
Electric senses, heart pounds like thunder
Kiss your body with gentle wonder
Legs and arms like tree roots twisted
Sweet sensations, bodies misted
Grinning wide with tickled feet
Outrageously perfect and complete
US President Donald Trump delivers!
Disappearing people,
people aren’t illegal
The inefficiency of DOGE
Nothing makes sense, it’s all a mirage
Ignoring the Supreme Court,
immigrant prisoner’s fees come up short
Drastic aid cuts kill people overseas,
bringing back rare disease
I’m not bashing the Trump agenda
Sipping a five-dollar coffee and Splenda
It’s inflation, and his
insatiable appetite for tariffs in other nations
Got his gimmick and applause
Worldwide leaders upset because
outrageously tariffed
Worse than even liberals predicted!
Firing government workers,
ridding twitter twerkers
Best say 2020 election was rigged,
and that other candidate cheated
Silicon Valley beware,
AI undermining gives a scare
Pardon the bad guys,
lock up innocent lives
Tariff-related market collapse,
Gerrymandering make new maps
Farmers forced to overregulate
Under lableing’s blind fate
Suing the media,
can’t fact check on Wikipedia
Bye bye D.O.D
end of US Army?
Rename it, department of war,
forget defense, think of horror
I mean, I could just keep going
Let’s see what is missing?
Government workers fired
Lack of qualified candidates hired
Take his family and RFK JR radical,
gets checks from pharmaceutical
Braking the law shooting-up everyday,
what would the dead Kennedy's say?
What isn’t missing is Trump in the White House
and his trophy wife spouse
And so instead of unabashedly bawling my eyes out
I’ll do what it takes to mellow doubt
That’s only half of it,
Melania spoke out, I’m now in a bad state of regret
Give me a drag—I need cigarette!
Nineteen nosey newts nudged nasty nautical nannies
Eighteen eager ermines excitedly edged everyone’s ego
Seventeen sacred slugs sat sideways searching seagulls
Sixteen slippery snails slid southwards sipping sangria
Fifteen flowery foxes fell forward fondling fuchsias
Fourteen frantic fleas froze fighting frightening fanatics
Twelve twiddling tigers told thirteen tasteless tales
Eleven elderly elephants embellished eighteen ebony earrings
Ten terrified tardy ticks tricked two thirsty Turkish tramps
Nine naughty nasal know-it-alls knew nothing nearing knowledge
Eight elastic earthworms echoed eighty edgy Egyptians
Seven solemn snakes slithered slowly sensing sunshine
Six sassy silk-moths sceptically squished spinach selfishly
Five funny fatties feared following fancy French fashion
Four fantastic faithful Finnish flies faked famous farcical facelifts
Three tenacious terriers thrilled twelve tipsy throbbing thespians
Two tireless Tanzanian tapirs tittle tattled tirelessly throughout Tuesday
One obedient oily octopus offered obnoxious orangutans oranges outrageously
Episode 1
Enter Fire Ball
Can I help being curvaceous and bold,
Or so I’ve been told,
Can I help it, if I get a visual massage,
Daily compliments, in fact a barrage!
I was born a beauty, and to only preen
Always to be seen as pristine!
In fact I’m an absolute sensuous tease,
Who flirts and sways as does a breeze,
Can I help looking like a Hollywood star,
Does all the above sound somewhat bizarre,
Do I come from Planet Venus afar,
Of course yes,
I’m looking for my man from Mars,
They say he’s behind bars,
But I am a new superhero
Who journeyed to Planet Earth from the age zero,
My beauty computed to blind and bedazzle,
Humans who try to stop me, fry to a frazzle,
My name in comic books, if you know your stuff,
Is Fire Ball, outrageously dangerous and tough,
It was Planet Venus’s dream,
Though somewhat extreme,
That I turn every prison guards’ head,
It was written, and is widely known and said,
That I would come, to free my man from his hell,
On Planet Earth’s cell,
I have been mentored for this, since I was sweet sixteen,
I’m magnificently exquisite, but bad and mean,
My orders to free my hero and take him back to Mars,
As he sits behind iron bars,
His strength, has been seeped and taken away
By humans, who will rue that fateful day!
I remember every minute of the first day we met,
It was raining, coming in to the reception you got wet,
At a mutual friend’s wedding, you came with a date,
You sat next to me, this was our destiny and fate!
You flirted outrageously with me from the start,
Love at first sight, cupid’s arrow reaching each heart.
You spilled your red wine on my skimpy evening dress,
You apologised my new dress looked an absolute mess.
But I had to quiet my pulse rate, which I instantly felt,
Cupid was in control, causing my heart to melt.
I fell madly in love that magic filled fascinating night,
I loved you from the moment you came into my sight,
You asked me to dance, I looked at you quizzically,
Oh don’t worry about Mary, you answered instantly,
She wanted to attend a Greek wedding and break plates,
Just a friend, certainly not one of my dates.
You kissed me goodnight on my cheek as we both left,
In my diary that same night I accused you of theft,
You had stolen my heart, my soul, and my senses,
I had let down my guard, there were no more fences.
The following day I got a huge bunch of red roses,
I love you, said the card, I was on fire, no amount of hoses
Could put this girl down, I was in a complete daze,
Everything misty with love, I was walking through haze.
You had to do a three week army camp, no cell phones
Then, so I just had to wait in nether land zones.
What happened we don’t know, to this day ourselves blame,
We were in love, but silly, aren’t all youngsters the same,
We should have got married then, but it took many years
Married, divorced, each with a son, met up with heartfelt tears,
Got married 6 months later, with family and friends present,
A very ecstatic couple, this lady and gent!
The Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though that dullard Dwight D. sat in the Executive Chair
And his frumpy wife Mamie had really bad hair
Matching those dowdy, plain dresses she'd wear ...
While husbands toiled in obscurity for large corporations
The "Ugly Americans," reviled by most other nations
Their stay-at-home wives feeling mostly frustration
Downing "happing pills" daily instead of real medication
Their sons sporting letter sweaters, obedient jocks,
Their daughters in plaid skirts and white bobby socks
Penny loafers and saddle shoes were in for ten years
Along with white levis and coca-cola -- never rum, never beer
Yet how about Krushchev's dust-ups with Tricky Dick Nixon
What about Sputnik 1 and the panic it put us in
And remember George Wallace and old Lester Maddux
Hosing down *******, echoes of Crispus Attucks ...
The rise of brutal pro football threatened apple pie and baseball
Heralding the next decade's premiere spectator sport, i.e., 'spaceball'
Joe McCarthy dug up the dirt of a "red scare's" nitty gritty
In the work of the House un-American Activities Committee
Then there was Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus
Championing the yearning for justice in so many of us
And the music, the music, so outrageously wild
Chuck Berry, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper -- that overgrown child
Yes, the Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though we shan't heed the call of those who'd return us to there
I see it right there, the subtle changes,
As you tuck those toes underneath your tights,
Fighting behind silences and sickening sunrises,
Contain yourself, you might cross a fire you can’t outcry,
I can hardly see those eyes through the mirror, hollowing through like a swirling tip of a tornado,
As if muffled drums were held still on cotton gloves,
The tiny twitches as you twist those thoughts,
Drowning in words to the point you see no light,
I guess your lips have learnt the lungs of quiet,
And your tears have tasted grace of terrors,
You’ve gone far enough and I hope you find north,
Walking in shattered bones one too many times,
Swimming through waves like a forgotten shadow,
Forgive me for this outrageously unwritten absence,
Pretending perfection while these veins remain paralyzed,
What more of your heart is left to give,
When you’ve played it like a tune with a broken grove,
The beastly blues voicing it’s protective aggressions,
Maybe one day I’ll love you out loud and all your shortcomings,
In the meantime I shall learn to make peace with breaths you take.
Three-Legged Table
As I drove through an old neighborhood, I spotted a garage sale sign.
I pulled off to the side of the street. With impatience, I couldn't get out
of the car quick enough. Right in front of the drive sat a vintage,
small drop-leaf, three-legged, brass lion claw Duncan Phyfe red mahogany table.
The price was outrageously cheap. I could not resist in buying this magnificent well-kept antique table. I managed to put it in the trunk and securely tied
a rope to the trunk lash so, it would slightly close and the table wouldn't fall out while I drove home.
high expectation
valuable old treasures
arouse excitement
In my living room, well-polished table sits. An old fashion crochet doily is used as a coaster for a vintage Fenton Hobnail milk glass with ruffle edge vase, filled with fresh cut gardenias, and a pair of matching candleholders.
antique possessions
constructed with great prudence
ages have long passed
my laugh raises hair on people’s necks
it is not petite, polite, refined, or subtle.
it is a throwback to your hillbilly ancestral
caveman’s outrageously loud and ugly laugh.
when it happens, it is as if the bowels of my
inner crazy is released after 4,000 years in
a dutch oven.
I forgot how loud it was when I picked up three
boys for a little “hey, let’s learn this board game”
session in the hallway where teachers’ classes are
trying to work.
One of the teachers said, “Mrs. K, the kids wondered
where all that laughing was coming from, but I knew.”
I started to apologize, and she said, “I love hearing it.
I loved it; I truly did. Do not apologize!”
I heard later that a rude teacher, who is always dour
wanted me to apologize. I had already tried, right?
Call me ludicrous ‘cause
I know it’s outrageously early but
I’m aching to put up my Christmas tree
It’s crazy but no surprise
I could use a little cheer
I want to buy in to the illusion
That everything is wonderful
That everything will be alright
That Santa will take care of folk
Who have been good all year
I’m longing to dreamily lose myself
In the glow of holiday garlands lit
Close my eyes and kiss my sweetheart
Under the magic of mistletoe
Call me what you will
AP: 2nd place 2020
When my enthusiasm is high and I feel joyful
my mind is orange.
Wildly and outrageously colorful,
bursting with happy to help sad out.
Sad is gray.
She wants to hold me under her muck
until I cannot breathe.
I begin shrieking for orange and hot pink and yellow
to save me, and they do.
Brown and gray hate me,
and I despise and detest and ignore them whenever possible.
They want me to be depressed and angry, my most non-self.
I would be quite mad, certifiable probably,
if orange and yellow and neon pink did not shower
me with love and respect and bliss.
I would be carried off in a straight jacket
if people realized how psychedelic I am inside.
But I keep it under wraps.
It is bad enough to have nightmares where
I am screaming and kicking, trying to be myself as
infamous gray and angry brown attempt to
drowned me in the squishy mud of Status Quo Swamp.
Sh!
Rest assured.
I do not go quietly.
If You Live to Get Old
Dedicated to my Father, of
Blessed Memory!
If You Live to Get Old...
Yet, you retain, your youthful
heart,
Zowie~ you have an enormous
start!
Sure, your rooftop may turn
gray.
But to you, each day is but
another chance to truly play!
You do anything you darn well
please.
You are the last to be cleaning
out cabinets on your sore knees.
Sure, you have pain of all kinds,
Comes with the territory, pay it
no mind.
My Father refused to go to the
Doc's! (three cheers,Dad)
He lived long and extended his
life clock.
He always did things for others
No matter the weather.
Bet he's in heaven now~wearing
a smile, and elegant Borsellino
hat with an exquisite feather.
And driving his favorite car, the Cadillac,
with gorgeous,elegant soft leather.
My Father~ a man who loved life,
jokes, family, great music, food and yes~
playing the ponies,
at Arlington Park Race Track.
Later, his granddaughter was the
star and love of his life!
So, if you get to grow old,
Create fun and enjoy it.
Do not be morose, be happy and
outrageously bold!
And always follow Whitman's
advice:
" Resist much; obey, little!
Then, it's a blast, growing old.
June 20,2019
Panagiota Romios