Best Pinches Poems
Take a look my Love
do you see how the diamonds of our dreams
are burning so brightly and violently
silhouetting the lips of our wishes against the walls of ancient Latin gold
in the sacred villa of Love's Kingdom where there is no escape
where rescue is unwanted,
where we survive and grow stronger in the gymnasium of passion's glory
did you notice that above the rose vine gateway
the phrase Sancta Simplicitas is carved deeply into the black and white marble,
do you feel the crimson love stress within your throat,
do you taste your soul's intestinal fortitude
surfacing on your spiked tongue
as we wrestle eachother ruthlessly, like champions that die in defeat,
moral armbars, clean elbow strikes to the jaw of flippancy,
pressure point pinches to the arteries of our inhibitions,
intellectual left and right hooks landing on the cheeks of our wisdom,
poetic hip throws to the mat of hard lust
defiant choke holds of love, flawless in tight execution
penetrating the blood brain barrier with the ecstasy of warrior fervor,
and as we lay sweatied and spent on the ground of this rough enlightenment
we look at eachother admiringly and realize like young romance
that we live for a single, shared purpose
to teach love what love means,
If they ever say diamonds to diamonds, dust to dust
they'll be speaking in bereavement of our beauty and bravery, of our best,
and I won't allow that,
as I know damn well
that you will not tolerate such misgivings either my Love,
instead,
we shall build a war machine of divine desire
that will destroy the proven walls of conventional psychology
erect a fortress of love that can withstand total despair,
and they will know the strength of our diamond love
as it guides the lost and lonely
through chaotic oceans of heart hysteria as with us,
no one will ever say our love died,
because we fought for it to live my Love -
Sancta Simplicitas is an ancient Latin phrase meaning...Holy Simplicity...
J.A.B.
Baby brother, your naughty smile entices
A chuckle ringing through the night,
While those eyes blue wink like stars
That I'm pretty sure , we are alike...
If Aunt Nora pinches those rosy cheeks
Yes, I'd whack her leg, she'll never know-
For now, you're saying, let's peek-a- boo
As moon face jiggles up and down,
Till Mama yelps, 'No, our babe might toot gas!'
And peachy feet, they would outgrow mine,
Then we’ll ride on airy coastlines
Sharing guy secrets and watching the girls--
Maybe, hug one or two in Dad's bike
That's what your laughter implies...
O you giggle, mouth without teeth yet;
Not to worry, I am sneaking yummy jello...
Eat that quick! It's all over your bald head
We'll make it look like soap bubbles--
As the hero, I'll tell our parents, the milk
Flushed through the crib...You agree, snickering,
Naughty brother, we have more pranks to go!
Baby Face What's You THINKIN Contest
Sponsor: James Edward Lee Sr.
Visual C 1/19/2019
My mind has taken off for Neverland,
I am hanging on by a cobweb,
It is bumping me against Venus
and has dragged me up through a black hole
or two. I barely dodge a couple of rocket-spinning- asteroids.
4:11 a.m.
I am screaming, “Slow down! Stop! Please stop!”
But she is on a roll. This is her fourth or fifth poem,
and all I have contributed is loud snoring.
I jump out of bed and head toward the kitchen,
making the dog angry, for she has to now fight her
way out of the covers I tossed on her.
Coffee with hot chocolate and tons of sugar first
if I am to make any sense out of this.
Ouch!
My imagination station pinches me on the Petootsie.
“We do not have time for coffee!” She shrieks at me.
Oh, great. It is Trixie, my muse,
and she is obviously in full angry drill sergeant
form today. I hate it when she learns it is a snow day the night before.
I pour my coffee combination, grab a cookie and head for
the computer where my hands begin to type, pleasing her.
These traitors are Trixie’s minions.
I wait in all the crummy
little barrooms of the soul.
I look about and sniff the air,
drink, and wait.
In the demi-world of honky-tonks,
which vie against night's
inner gloom, beneath mantles
of thick smoke, pinches,
slurred speech and propositions,
I leer drunkenly about,
swimming in the haze
of my heebie-jeebies.
I wait.
After the smoke clears away
and the honky-tonk tones die,
when the scraggy light of the
morning after spreads, mustily,
across the floor,
I wait.
After the hangover,
after the aching head, glazed eyes,
belches, and specks
which move around my head in circles,
I see a different sort of light:
A flatter sort.
In the sordidness,
ergo filthy waxy sawdust on the floor,
I have seen a conjuration
which I sought.
But soon it disappears
and will not come again.
Illusion slips from mind
with lifting drunkenness
and break of sensibility
and pain creeps in which
is not merely physical.
Oh well.
I must try again tomorrow night.
There will always be another night.
Dedicated to Evelyn Judy Buehler. I love the joy
and color she brings to her poetry!
Pink puddle of petals, precious
underneath the parasol tree.
Celebrant-pear in bridal white —
pairs walk down the chapel aisle.
The vigor of a garden dressed —
up and down the rows, I’m restless.
Blossoms of bittersweet passion —
red and tangerine attraction.
Sunspree of yellow jonquils —
tiptoeing tiny-tim-like through them.
No mortal map or shovel can undermine
the undiscovered pearly gate of Eden.
Roses blush with tinted cheeks —
a suitor pinches a couple dozen.
Black-eye in the center of a coneflower —
red-tinged-xanthous Susan rays of Summer.
Precious and few, our foray of the perfect,
the most extensive, the coolest environment.
Golden buttermilk rose, with its ruffled petals —
pleasant scent neighboring the paprika yarrow.
What worth Eden — its treasures of rainbow showers,
scents that are mind boggling, its puddles of petals?
3/22/2021
Oh!!How great is Jesus’s love for a sinner
You graced me with your love and mercy
The gesture that I love to treasure
Obtained with the blood that’s costly
He was Shamed and disgraced for our iniquities
Insulted, stripped, and crowned with pinches
All that for you to escape your verdict
Repent for you were purchased pricy
Brethren’s how big the price of salvation
Deliverance from my sins and sorrows
How fragrant how marvellous the glory
How excellent how vast the victory
I rejoice to serve my Jesus
I am humbled by salvation offered
Before I meet him my life was hollow
I encountered Jesus whose life is holy
I’m transformed with strength from above
Given wing to fly like an Eagle
And today I chant with glory
Hallelujah your name is supreme
AVOIDING CRUEL TASK BY CANDLELIGHT - DH
her shadow quivers.
(the hemisphere of
a potted plant cool -
a divisive mind.)
she stands in the soil.
she cannot move
for she’s been caught.
her breath catches,
her fingers wrought.
cucumber
at her desk
burns in hell -
pinches
the flame
stark
1/18/2019
Diminished Hexaverse
Sponsor - Charles Messina
*American saying: cool as a cucumber can mean calm but also cold
**stark - rigid as in death, harsh, blunt, strong, absolute
When hearts are broken,
They travel to the land of sadness
By ships of sorrow,
They sail through oceans of tears.
Captained by solitude,
They go through raging storm of unsettledness
Broken hearts go deep,
Into trenches of pain.
Intoxicated by grief,
They tremble in fear
Fading reason,
Catapults them into the field of mayhem.
They suffer pinches from thorns of loneliness
And are made to settle on the throne of solitude
Ask me where broken hearts go,
And I'll tell you
They go nowhere,
But deep down the drain.
STRANJA
I can feel her stirring once again,
through gloss of morning and fog of twilight
echoing out a new adventure’s call
while the nomadic tempo beats;
a fine instinct's voice ignites her heart
drumming a free-spirit ‘s lively song...
with a bohemian flair taking after Grandpa’s mold .
As a middle-born girl, she is warm and complex,
running unto fields catching a hue
in firelight's inner-dance that spins a groove,
while exploring new trails never blazed
like a wayfarer ready to face the unknown
with painting exhibits that capture this offbeat strain.
Though she keeps life from being bland
defying traditional rules as archaic, oh run-down…
a childlike nature is kindled and forever moved
when her college students throw an overnight gig
as pinches of life's drama and hubris make swollen lids cry,
forgetting how an angel touched her at a young age.
Well, that’s what I am: a pilgrim soul of all time.
.........
Bio Of A Poet Contest for Tammy Reams
4/17/2015
Fasting cleanses both body and soul
It breaks you only to make you whole
Its spiritual connection plays a vital role.
Now not only the wearer knows the shoe pinches
for you get the chance to be in the needy's shoes
A whole month to forget those addictive binges
A chance to comprehend the poor man's cues.
Donot complain if your tummy's rumbling grumbling
for the poor man has always been thus starving
Feel his hunger, feel for him
and side by side give your weight a trim
Everybody wants to be so slim.
Many religions do prescribe it
The fasting one will describe it
If you have never done it
you might want to try it.
A month of fortitude, forbearance is a month of fasting
intended to impart a self-control and patience that's everlasting.
We all need ketosis to get rid of the lipids, fat stores
And researcher Google just told me that's what fasting ensures!
Craving for eatables the belly though may be raging
yet scientists have proved that produces a substance for anti-aging!
So if you are interested in a healthier, longer life span
come join me and fast away this month of Ramazaan.
It's time you understood God's health plan.
Researchers say the fasting person diverts energy
from the digestive system to the immune system!
Every wajibat has been proven good for both soul and body
Scroll even Google for yourself to thank the fasting dictum.
Fasting's a perfect way of bodily detoxification
Researchers say it's notable how fasting detoxifies each organ!
So come one come all, fasting can be for any creed
It lowers the BP and lowers the greed
as attention is diverted from the self to those in need.
I hope a month of NO food yet gives some food for thought
For a fasting from pondering should never be sought!
Wildfire
Written: By Tom Wright
3/20/2006
The wildfire’s aftermath has revealed,
Ditches littered with assorted trash.
Wildlife panicked, ran and squealed,
Sections lay barren, as blackened ash.
Houses and barns have met their fate,
And hay, by the ton, is left to smolder.
Volunteer firemen, fighting early to late,
Standing always, shoulder to shoulder.
On men and equipment fire takes its toll,
A burn ban exists throughout the state.
Who starts these fires, what is their goal?
Are they accidental, or just plain hate?
Many have lost all their worldly goods,
And wait while FEMA pinches its dime.
A life’s accumulation, a patch of woods,
Start life over, for some, there isn’t time.
Almost daily we hear the dread word, fire,
Whipped to frenzy by south winds gusting.
Sirens blaring, volunteers must not tire,
For life and limb to them we’re trusting.
Dedicated to the volunteer firemen
Who have faced a monumental task this past year.
Almost daily, wildfires have occurred
Many due to arson.
At last, the traffic comes to a halt…
the quarter moon peeps between hill tops
as a lingering sigh pinches my flesh—
half weary, half shimmering
in hours moist with late afternoon’s
need for quietude. Clearing
my mind to embrace sweet ardor's mist
and the fire of gentle touches, I feel
all the pinpoints of his affection tingling
my softened face numbed by toil,hours before.
Resting a bit to capture hints
of stillness borne from the wake of a temporal
star, we gather each other --- fondling the light,
inhabiting the pleasure of now.
...................
Contest: Laura Loo's Free Verse About Love--
New or Old
Posted 1/12/2016
homeless man on the edge of the park
devours his gifted pizza
crumbs stick to his dirt streaked face like layers
of public disdain
people about regard him a walking virus
homeless man scents the air with squalor
his torn clothes proclaim the cheapness of rags
an untidy emptiness
a life throttled by dysfunction
as dark as a closed theatre
How can we turn pumpkins into coaches?
What restores a life uprooted?
this man, stooped, ungainly like tall weeds,
pinches bits of pizza crust thrown to birds
that gather about his wounded wildness
a salvage gesture to feed the birds
a clarity to nourish what's unprotected
to stow away grief
to worry about his next meal
implanted,
like a field under seeded
Poem Composed October 7, 2021
Contest: This or That Volume 7
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Which Grinch Stole Christmas
You may gain inches
Feel big waist when it pinches
Which Grinch stole Christmas.
Jim Horn
Tell me if it is true,
She too has a heart that can hurt
Hurt her for me, Hurt that girl
And I will saunter to soothe her
But don’t harm her, it hurts
I need my first words felt in the heat
My fountain spilling ink in her heart
Hurt her heart
My eyes run into hers, I surrender
My courage deems, yet I solder
Stare back and scare
Yet I mean to be man, this girl
I care, I swear, and there
I lose it, hurt; I want her to listen
Our souls echo; hearts beat and eyes mate
Hurt that girl
Tell her the drunken spit
Hair like half a tooth brush
Skin like a porcupine, come on
Hog, bad bacon
A bother, why bother?
Call her hyena’s canine
Kin of the warthog, imbalanced buttock
Go, hurt her ego and go
Yes, I know, I kowtow
Her silk, sweet hair, I blush in layers
Her skin is keen, no pin,
I dare not listen to her, she pinches
She’s baby, that girl is lucky
Sweet goodness, tell her for me I’m on the way
To tell her for you, Sweet girl
You made her for me!
But I have no way
Hurt that girl, I’m on my way
Hurt my darling.
Contest type: Genius or criminal