Best Paddle Poems
Clouds turns black,
not plain nor blank
In that dark,
I looked up to the sky
Saw the glittering stars,
Not any out of sight
Noble they all look,
Every tick they spark.
Twinkle, twinkle
They all hail their moon
When in place,
No one cause them to mute
Fashion of their light,
makes me amuse
Even when dim,
Men trust their booth.
Little I have seen,
Take it for a sample
Many hung dreams,
No more hope to handle
Stars that strives in struggles,
Called it hustle
Is it blacks haunting whites,
The road we should paddle?
I guess I was left alone after sixth grade, wandering my way.
You believed in me, offered up openings and let me say
what I would and delve into the sun and world and stay
and even you ended up with the lecture that betrays.
I wrote I hate because I was writing a friend's words and heart.
You asked me who I would be and even then I wanted all, a dart
where you wanted a girl to trudge through all scientific dirt
while you rode the airplanes and dumped the bombs and let off farts.
The alien chart given to us by the friend with death in his eyes
turned into a get after her and steal her gift away, mini-size
combat world I have entered, perhaps I don't want to see
that my skin and bones won't take the abuse and slip free.
You told me it was trash, imagination, you whose directions I embraced,
tall as my father, kind in punishment with paddle, food for an ace,
do what I can, make the baskets and short end instead of lace
but even then I crocheted for quiet and the ending of days.
How can I choose one star when there are minds that blink into focus
you were the exhaust shoot that let me fly without hocus pocus
I thought I had a community who could let me be without fuss
instead I became the joke who you could goad into a cuss.
Stars are supposed to offer a route into the future
I only have my mind and the heart break of needed sutures
I have Gandhi and Buddha and they hold my hands as lures
to study silence, and Pink Floyd to cuddle but not reassure.
So why is the man with a paddle and heart my only star?
Outside I am compliant and you're happy with her
but inside I am defiant that you have not seen me soar
because I am the murk you want to avoid for a lark.
Betrayals hurt the heart by ignoring the soul's worth.
Betrayals hurt the mind by ignoring the leaps of birth,
Betrayals hurt the soul by closing doors into endless hurt.
My stars always hurt me so I always restart.
I am still alone following the paths who clarity offer hope
and alone because my web of life is so immense I'm a dope
and alone because the daily bread tastes too much like soap,
when the quiet of peace and dark blue earns my truest troth.
Sheri Fresonke Harper
poem for Brightest Star Contest
< once this girl had seen her own shadow
got scared begun to wag and waddle
crossed over center line
hit by semi's behind
now shes up creek without a paddle
Writen by Katherine Stella
Entry For Rick Parise's
Shadows And Lines Contest
G.L. All
The first sign of summer
has this day appeared so clear
the sky's blue with sun about
you can feel it so very near
So to the beach I did go
Tshirt and shorts was my wear
took off trainers and socks
who's looking! I did not care
I then paddled along the sea
my feet was completely wet
so refreshing and cool the water
the time escaped like we'd never met
This is such a good feeling
wish it would last for ever
feeling the rays of the sun
all over myself like a flowing river
So pray for more sunny days
bright and warm is our wish
all over the world this summer
served up like our fav dish
AUTHOR NOTES:
Walking along the beach on the Scottish North Ayrshire coastline the other day,
it was our first really warm sunny day of the summer, just a few thoughts on the
experience.
I kept all of my money in my mattress instead of a bank.
It was stolen last week and I only have myself to thank.
I have never trusted banks, that's why my mattress was stuffed.
I want to buy a hot dog but I'm so poor that I don't have enough.
I'd like to strangle the thief, he's a dirty crook and a rotten louse.
I can't pay my mortgage and the bank is going to take my house.
I had three million bucks stuffed in my mattress.
My wife left me today and now I'm so depressed.
Now I'm up the creek without a paddle and my boat just sank.
Don't make the same mistake that I did, keep your money in a bank.
(Even though this fictional poem is intended to be funny, it's not a good idea for
people to keep large sums of money in their homes.)
P-addle your own canoe,
A-ugust nineteenth Saturday;
U-se your independence,
L-et your weakness fade away.
A-s you paddle your own canoe,
S-how the world that you can;
U-nder the wide blue sky,
N-ever ask help from any man.
C-rossing the running river
I-s your own breakthrough;
O-pen your mind to initiative,
N-ow paddle your own canoe.
Rowing on unknown waters,
paddling slow,
down the river, we go.
Following the current
towards the uncertain.
Avoiding the unavoidable
wild waters,
part of the river
we row on.
Watching the endless horizons,
we try to contemplate
the beauty around,
even in the rough river rapids.
Rowing down the river,
under the sun and the storm
we paddle slow.
But, before we can think,
we reach
the end of our journey.
Not far,
we can see the sun
melting with the sea.
It's time for us
to leave our boat.
Tired, we rest
while we look behind
remembering
those unforgettable moments,
shiny and precious
as a diamond
locked forever in our hearts.
What time is it
I can't be too late
but I'm not too sure I can go through with it
My hands are shaking
and I'm a walking sweat machine
I'm so nervous
I can't hide it
it's written on my face
yet I can't wait till the right moment
when the right moment is now
yet I can't wait till faith in myself reawakens
I can only hope faith starts flooding in
when I start walking across the hall
I have said courage is all I have to my name
but courage is unknown waters to me
and I am in a boat without a paddle to help guide me
To say, to say I can get through this un-afraid
well I'd be lying
but I have to try, I have to try
even if I have to use my arm as an oar
I say I'm a bore
but I can't lose this moment
can't lose this chance
don't tell me the time
I don't need to keep it in mind
that I only have this once chance...
Piddle Paddle,Piddle Paddle
shouldn't that child be asleep. Is
there anyone down there that can
here me....Piddle Paddle, Piddle
Paddle its just me and mom
place....Piddle Paddle,Piddle Paddle,
I'm getting tired now....Piddle
Paddle,Piddle Paddle...now we all
can go to sleep.
Another afternoon of horrid heat.
I need to chill with sweet ice cream.
Homemade, with ripe strawberries.
Hand churned takes time, but it's the best.
My tongue will lick the paddle clean
then I'll put three scoops in a frosted dish.
I'm not greedy but can't resist the temptation.
So worth the wait and all the cranking labor
for such a refreshing dessert!
One last plump berry perched on top.
I'm beginning to drool. It's time to go.
I have to eat quickly, before it melts.
Chop! Chop!
June 21, 2022
Ice Cream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
For years I have admired you and felt like such a fool ...
I stare at you lasciviously and try hard not to drool ....
Now I have you in my arms and begin to remove your top ....
I look at you most longingly and wonder if I should stop ....
You are hard yet smooth in texture ,as I run my tongue along ...
I close my eyes and take you deep ,Oh my , it feels so wrong ....
I lick and and taste what it is you have and its exactly like a dream ...
Nothing is more exhilarating , than a tub of cold ice cream ...
Sudden more often, lazy or lame
Moisture moves mountains
While wild gets tamed
Cluttered by spaces until corners cut shapes
Its all under pressure a little lost in space
What is`nt real and what does it mean
Lately i laugh awake while i dream
Sick with the fever just lucky i`m late
Perfections lapse
so paddle out and ride the wave
So many chickies walking round on the loose
I dribble and drool like a silly old goose
The older I become
The more luscious their bums
Sure would like to jump aboard their caboose
So many chickies walking round on the loose
I dribble and drool like a silly old goose
The older I become
The more luscious their bums
Sure would like to jump aboard their caboose
~ to the tune of 'Jingle Bells,' please ~
Tushies slide, what a ride
slipping on the ice
All we need’s a beaming bride
and a few bouquets of rice
Where’s the groom, in his room
with Cinderella’s mice
Stitching up a triple-plus size
for his buxom bride’s bo-som… ooom!
It’s Christmas Eve, and Santa’s drunk
so he can be the preacher
Administer last rites instead of I do’s
come morn, he’s ‘Rudolfo Screecher’
O, Pickle Balls and Paddle Bells
they’re the tunes we croon
When the bride screams, ‘What?’
Spooks begin to strut ~
by the light of a cardboard Moon
O, Pickle Balls and Paddle Bells
the only songs we sing
When the bride cries, ‘Wha hoppened?’
We tell her, Popcorn’s Poppin’ ~
for her wedding meal next June