Best Party(A) Poems
What a beautiful, romantic day
Most wonderful day of my life
I soak up the sun, every ray
We're going to be husband and wife
The wedding cake's beautiful but where's the knife?
And where's my dad? He should be here
To give me away, oh my, oh dear!
Oh my God! What a Stag Night
I can't quite remember, what did we do?
Why's there a tattoo on my butt on the right?
And why is half my hair blue?
I'm panicking now about what will ensue
When in the shower blue dye starts to disappear
And the girl's name just dissolves from my rear.
I'm loving the stairs on the cake
A three layer
A triple dare
Of a husband number three
My beautiful day, I swirl for the show
Hubby number three won't be free for a while.
Still puzzling, how did I get here?
A triple trouble stands in front of me
The bachelor party a couple of nights ago
I wish I was free again
The knife in the cake crumbles as the sweet cake is savoured.
As the blushing bride I look all around
My brothers and sisters, eyes open wide
They look at the cake and at the groom frown
But they're smacking their lips but not at the bride
The church doors are locked, everyone is inside
When will the service be over, how long will it take?
Before they can get their hands on that cake.
As the blushing groom I nervously look at a sister
The brothers are scowling, her kids just grinning
Don't think you can back out now mister
My fate is sealed, my head is spinning
The priest calls to order, the service beginning
I glance across at the majestic cake
Like Kilimanjaro no knife could it break.
The wedding day rings dancing on the plate
Waiting to be worn on this forever date
The service ends, the wedding bells still ringing
The now wife and husband each having
A million thoughts running
The groom takes a quick glance at his years of single
The bride not holding back on this mingle.
She loving the stairs on the cake
A three layer, a triple dare
Of a husband number three
He is still puzzling, how he got here
The cake demolished to only one crumb
Just like his chances of being free
DEATH OF A MOSQUITO
Kind of a party, a get-together for friends,
Free wheeling, snacking here and there -
You know how it goes.
Warm afternoon - moist - ideal weather:
Some of the guys had already dropped in,
More had said they were coming
Just before the rain;
There was a real buzz in the air
In the crowded kitchen.
She was a pretty woman, gentle-faced, quiet.
I had been after her all afternoon -
A touch on her arm, a nibble of her neck -
Seems I went too far - you know.
A rolled-up newspaper appeared in her hand.
It came down on my head.
The whack of the smack
Was the last thing I heard.
..................................................
The birthday party, a surprise,
Had lots of things to tantalize –
A lovely house, delicious food,
A friendly host to set the mood…
Some dialogue with friends and kin,
The birthday gal’s elated grin
When, from the car, she looked about
As all of us let out a shout.
My favorite part, though, was to see,
Transcribed to view on a TV,
Home movies of the honored guest,
The past revived at our behest.
Most partygoers knew her then
And lived those mem’ries once again
But we don’t go back quite as far
So watching really raised the bar:
An eighth grade trip, a P.J. bash,
A backyard pool, with hose and splash,
The senior prom (and she the queen!),
A high school graduation scene.
To see my friend so very young
Gave background to the praises sung
And piled so high upon her plate
By all who came to celebrate.
As pals and family reminisced,
I saw a bit of what I’d missed
But I was thrilled to recognize
My younger friend, a sweet surprise.
Proud of my red coat, that others admired,
or was it the charm and wit I had, that they desired?
I spent my days basking in the noon-day sun;
you scolded me for stealing the worker’s lunch, I did it, just for fun!
You gave me a world where I was free to roam;
through woods and fields until you called me home.
I know there were times, you did not take pleasure,
in the prizes I returned with, that I deeply treasured.
I protected you from strangers, with my gnarly bark;
you let me play at night, chasing frogs and dodging owls, in the dark.
You dressed me up and I paraded all around;
I knew I was the life of every party, a miniature, ten pound hound.
I was grateful for your tender care, through my golden years;
I left you with a heavy heart, and eyes, filled with tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In memory of Phoebe Leda Rose our miniature dachshund.
Born May 1998 died Feb. 2013. She truly was a lively and affectionate dog. The poem reflects her quirky personality that kept us laughing.
We purchased Phoebe for our 10 year old daughter who cherished her and wrote a poem about her for school.
Phoebe Leda Rose has very big nose
She wobbles when she walks
And she wiggles her toes.
Date: June 2, 2022
For: Personification – Pets Talking Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance LaFrance
Rhyme verified on rhymezone.com
Placed 1st in contest
The pedestrian kettle steams on to the Capitol pyre
With a weight watcher tonic; more lean legislators to sire
The Grand Old Party a taste of the aromatic brew doth require
Medicinal tonic blended to alleviate bloating gout of every Democratic squire
Preferring their watered-down, generic brand, constipated digestive tracts go haywire
The savy financiers sit on the sidelines in their cozy markets ignoring the taste test flier
The partisan grit clogs the filter producing a quagmire
The vitriolic ingredients boil over causing a rancid fire
The billowing smoke rises and streams to the patrician choir
The generic master brewer in his white house stews in the demagogic mire
Commercial winds sweep in fanning the flames causing the heat to reach dome's spire
The regurgitated grounds spewed forth to every intoxicated shire
Democratic gainsayers scare the elderly that the side effects are so dire
The rest of the squeamish plebians in their depleted hovels continue to sip their Common Roast with ire
If I would have known you wouldn’t be here
I would have stopped worrying about the small stuff
I would have held you tighter and said “I love you “more often
If I would have known you wouldn’t be here
We would have had your celebration of life party a weekend earlier
If I would have known you wouldn’t be here
I would have locked the doors and kept everyone out of our house
People say time heals all wounds however, these wounds still hurt
People say you are pain-free however, we could have controlled your pain
I am happy you are in heaven with your family that left before you
I am overjoyed that your cancer is gone and you are a healthy man
I am thankful for every second, every moment, every day we spent together
Guess what else? I am mad I am sad; defeated because we couldn’t save you
And yet I know you are with God and that death is an amazing part of life
You are saved, you are whole, and you are still you
I miss and love you baby
Simplemente Gracias
Ismael Carl Rodriguez 03/08/'64-07/04/'20
Written on 10/25/2021
Let’s throw a big spectacular bash.
And party with a smash and some flair.
Then we can grow a sexy moustache.
And party on our face with some hair.
Maybe we should just have a ball.
And party with black tie and a coat.
Then we can all just go out on a trawl.
And party with the waves on a boat.
How about we all hold a crazy riot.
And party with a shout and a scream.
Then we can all just be really quiet.
And party by ourselves in our dream.
She had style she was grace
and possessed a pretty face.
She was charming she was witty
her childhood spent in the city.
Lived her life with a passion
she was never out of fashion.
Make-up placed perfectly
the hair and nails done tastefully.
Oh so smart you could see
any problems wouldn't be.
She was tough also strong
mostly right when I was wrong.
She was neat kept things clean
always nice never mean.
She was kind she was loving
didn't like people shoving.
Liked to party a little booze
and she had too many shoes!
Never early often late
left her greens upon her plate.
Treated friends with devotion
loved the beach and the ocean.
Nursed my cuts when I did bleed
tons of books liked to read.
In a car not great you see
passenger side instructing me.
She was special like no other
super Wife better Mother.
What a woman a special girl
she blessed my life
she was my world!
~ Song sung by good old Bob Dylan - it's called - Things Have Changed ~
~ "Copy and paste in your browser lets dance... ~" "TURN IT UP!" ~
~~~~~~
~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~
"I believe-
life-to be-
fair-entirely!"
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
"People on-the-
other-hand are-
another-story,
sometimes;
entirely."
~~~~~~
~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~
~ Enough-said-
~ God-is-life!" ~
~ "Didn't pass-myself out of my-own bottom, though often-times I believe-this, entirely... as I
most certainly could, in the-appearance... but not to Him in this case, I believe... !" ~
~ "Vigilant-adherence to the all-inclusiveness of this-principal I believe allowing-me to evolve-
within this-world, rising above-it-together-with-Him, entirely... !" ~
~ "His mercy... love, in its entirety shown-and-shared for all; leading the-way, forgiveness
being the-greater-fruit of-His grace... !" ~
~ "His freedom-proclaiming this-with-all-of-us, Jesus-the-Son doing-His-jolly-jig... !" ~
~ "His head-yes-His-humble-face-glowing-raising up-His-eyebrows rising-up-and-down over-
and over, bobbing-up-and-down-sliding-up yep you-bet-man yes you sure can to the-left-yes-
then-and-again-down-to the-right rising His-head-up-shaking His-tender-but; yes-His-
beautifully and-wondrously perfect, generous-and-jiggling and-precious-ever-omnipotent;
glorious-and-giddy-and-rocking immaculate-booty... to... and-fro... !" ~
"Sliding-to-the right... then-to the-left then and-again-raising up-His-head then-bobbing-up-
down up-up-and-down-and-up-higher-and-higher and-higher giving-it-another-great-big-
shake-shake. Swooping-down-even-lower-again, and-then-again... and-again, yes, and-
twisting-vigorously-then, over-and-over-again... !" ~
~ "All-of us-dancing with-Him... in peace... for-all-eternity... !" ~
~ "Oh-yes-man it's-going to-be-a-party... a whoot!"
~ Given-the-joy-of this pursuit... !
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9EKqQWPjyo
Last Names
by Edmund Siejka
Whenever I meet someone
At a party, a restaurant or in line at a store
And the conversation turns to last names
I respond politely
When they ask
What nationality is that?
The question strikes me as anachronistic
Like how old were you when you were born?
For some of us
The spelling and pronunciation
Of our last names can be challenging
Harboring a jumble of
Consonants and vowels
Without rules
But we need to remember
That each last name has a proud past
And each name has a future.
If rudely pressed for an explanation
I sometimes describe my last name as “American”
Clearly stating
That my great grandparents immigrated from Europe
Over a hundred fifty years ago
And we’ve been here ever since.
In this day of fluid identities
My answer seems somewhat vague and evasive
And occasionally met with arched eyebrows
From people I hardly know
But it stops them from asking additional questions
As I feel under no obligation to say more
After all
Didn’t we all come from somewhere else?
I just must share, I do declare
What it means to be me.
Life’s too short to take too seriously.
So please, listen up, loosen up, party a little.
Do something spontaneously, daily, silly.
It keeps the soul refreshed.
Pinch the behind just to make sure, nope, not dreaming.
Stretch big stretches. Extending arms up high...
Reach up... touch the sky, spin and fly. Breathe in deeply.
Just enjoying the view of being alive while I inhale
The awe-inspiring newness of being
Born again with these childhood eyes.
Once, long ago I realized,
It’s just no fun being dead inside.
Three ladies of grace their league in a bond
To public and party a shawl and a song
A mouse and a strawberry and slim liner long
Dictation decides or the tide will go wrong
I work for you matey make clear that quite well
A baptismal fire engaged from a well
We all agree this place is her roost
For children and family and those with some loot
A priest with a wallet not normal or rare
And anyone else pray supply or prepare
A grandad of kindness now buried with rest
The lady of hate leaves a husband and nest
No violence there or car to remove
from land or from table that knife never moved
Dont lie and evict as the children don't know
And made by the state to use and to show
Honesty in and a cheek ready here
I'm battered and broke and the papers no cheer
Two ladies are left and promote and do pare
Their input was awful and sharp and unfair
They helped in the downfall the innocent look
But spoke through a message and killed off the shoot.
Conniving and scheming together they go
The speech in the church gave a frightening blow
You men are collared pinned and allayed
You do as your told or your position is swayed
Say nothing dear boy or end on my ship
Your job is no longer and she gives the lip
A family tract and problem aware
I'll pray to my God and call on his care
Rules and Regulation
There is the third wave of Corona 19 in Portugal, peoples at
old people’s homes have been vaccinated, but now it has stalled.
So, what is the problem?
Why are people reluctant to follow the rules and regulations?
I think it is because Portugal lived under a dictatorship for 50 years,
when freedom came lifted the heavy burden, and now they are not
going to give this freedom away for anyone.
The dictate from politicians is often ignored, the question is, what
will happen after the pandemic?
Will the new rules still apply to give the politicians more power?
and the police force the right to behave nastily.
The freedom is an illusion, and the right-wing guard is back in power,
giving the political party a prefix of social this.
While privatizing water and electricity,
people cannot afford to heat their homes.
But there are moments when we have to forego the “Democracy.”
for the common good, but be sure to take the freedom back.
Dear god I know I take for granted that tomorrow will be given to me
And I also take for granted your grace and your mercy
I know I mess up even though I hear your warning words
But because at times I'm stubborn I pretend the warning I never heard
At times it may seem that I put you to the test
And at the same time wonder why I'm not blessed
But you also know my struggles
I also take advantage of your forgiving nature
And at times forget that I am the created and not the creator
But I also understand that tomorrow is promised to no man
But yet I still don't live the best that i can
Perhaps I think my time to die is not yet
Or perhaps that loads of achievements I have not met
Whatever it is I must believe I'm invincible
As why else will I not heed to His call
Tomorrow it is, tomorrow will be the day
Tomorrow it is when I turn round and say
Yes lord I accept you in my heart
Yes lord I'm ready for my new start
But tomorrow came and I was nowhere to be found
Tomorrow came but those words I never uttered a sound
Perhaps I wasn't ready, maybe need a bit more time
Not realizing I was created to worship the divine
I just needed to party a little bit more
Not understanding what tomorrow had in store
Tomorrow wasn't mine, was never guaranteed to be
Tomorrow came for millions, it never came for me
My time was up, my days had a number
Tomorrow wasn't given to me by he who neither sleeps nor slumber
If I could look back at yesterday and realize my mistake
I wouldn't wait for tomorrow I'd grab the moment with haste
To accept you lord in my life and live right
As tomorrow is a day I would like to glimpse in my sight
Yesterday People
The phone is ringing in my purse,
It sounds like a band, a party, a favorite song.
It calls to me. It tells me to obey.
I am slow, I say, “no way”.
I go to the market and there are signs everywhere.
Take out your phone and click right in.
We cater to you and you and you…
But not, YOU!
Scan this, work at that, four of these, five of those,
Math and new math, but without the counters.
The register hums and makes mistakes.
They hate when you point them out.
They happen often.
You are too old, too young, to late for dinner.
and You are still paying with cash? (hushed whispers in the line)
Coupons cut from paper, writing a check from scratch,
finding the proper change at the bottom of a bag.
All these things are the life, of many of our band.
We don’t fit, we can not catch up,
maybe we don’t care…
anymore.
We don’t get your internet.
We can barely email, receive a picture, or pickup an urgent call.
But we are still the pillars of all that matters,
All that is worth saving.
Do not throw away;
be careful of regret.
It has an evil twin…
her name is death.