Best Plus Poems
You are a plus size model: sexy, hot
Emaciated woman, you are not!
You have the curves; you have the booty too
Those skinny girls don’t hold a shine to you
You know you’re fat and yet you have that flair
You’re beautiful; you make them stop and stare
You claim your rolls are good enough to eat
Your man, he sees you as a tasty treat
You’ve got tattooed Miss Piggy on your arm
I think that it’s delightful- quite the charm
You flaunt yourself In Big Girl style with verve
Make men just want to touch your every curve
Oh Tess, I do confess, you make me feel
That Big Girls too can have that sex appeal
Eileen Manassian Ghali
This poem is dedicated to that kind person who donated me with a Premium Membership. I did not expect it but my grateful thanks comes with a wish of a happy and healthy New Year.
The breeze whispers in my ears:
”Come and join me in a spree
Let's move out towards the sea
Over choppy waves on currents adrift,
See your boat is in full speed,
My strong breeze has filled your sails
And speedily all is glee.
The hot air on the beach is far behind,
For now it's all fresh and clean.
Dolphins jump out of the waves,
Spraying droplets all around,
Till down again they go towards the deep.
Is it not a wonderful sight to see?”
Was it a sheer accident that I became a poet?
Poetry, I didn’t pursue, rather it cropped up
As a late-night guest, quite unexpected.
A teacher’s career, I have been bent upon
And prefer to be known more as a teacher than a poet.
In my eyes, teachers are a venerable sort,
Happy that I could belong to that ‘special’ lot,
Instilling in young ones - newer insights gleaned,
Enriching their lives - with atoms of knowledge pooled,
Brightening their paths - with millions of lanterns lit,
Rowing them away - from the perilous shoals of life,
And leading them to be anchored on safer shores!
A teacher sure stands taller above,
Every other mortal who serves!!
Numerous are the guise a teacher has to put on,
And cleverer the tricks she has to play,
To tackle the wards in her all-out care,
And launch them out into a world to fare.
I have played all at once myriad roles,
More of a mentor and not just a tutor,
A physician who heals, a nurse who tends,
A parent who cares or a pal who shares,
A patron who supports or a lawyer who argues,
A scholar who learns and a master who trains.
As Christ taught his disciples - with parables many,
As Socrates instructed the youth - through endless queries,
As Sullivan led Keller - to the new dawn of light,
As Aesop enlightened kids - with countless tales,
I strove to be a TEACHER.
An erudite soul with a mission!
A sculptor who sees an angel, veiled within a rock!
An architect building an edifice to last a lifetime!
A warrior uncompromising in war,
On Ignorance – the most ignoble foe!
I don’t know where I presently stand,
Nor do I know how my students would rate me,
Though often floundered or failed to act,
In the manner I ever so longed to do,
I would rather be a TEACHER all my life,
A ‘guru’ out and out, from hilt to heel.
And I would wear that mantle with pride!
Speak words of affirmation;
this world too often weighs us down.
Give hope to those who pass your way;
a smile is so much better than a frown.
Be kind and chose the higher road;
let some other person criticize.
People need a ray of hope;
be the one to sympathize.
Offer the best you have and give a hand;
never kick one who is down.
Life is over much too soon;
let your brother wear the crown.
Be the needed voice of cheer
to lift a friend's heavy load;
and you will find enough true joy
to take you down life's road.
Copyright, November 25, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
A poetry convention is a wow
Our writes we endeavour to plough
We'll meet so many friends
To enhance writing trends
Our strengths are as thick as the bough
To my table I have decided to seat
Three ladies whom I'd so love to meet
They are favourites of mine
And they will be for some time
Their poetry to read is my treat
The first lady to seat is a gem
Her novels just shine from her pen
She's a New Jersey girl
Who makes my heart twirl
Her poetry flows 'tres bien'
The second lady to sit at my table
If given the chance, I'd surely enable
She's Maltese, she's Celene
A Mediterranean Queen
Her name would be beautifully labelled
The third lady who I now show to her chair
Her writing just makes me openly stare
It's oozes life's desire
It makes me aspire
Table Top Mountain, I wish I was there
Not for any contest, but I thank Michael for the idea, ty
Thank you Carolyn Devonshire, Celene Crescent & Wilma Neels for being you,***
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-16.php
courtesy of management in general
and particularly Jackie Geiger
assistant property agent.
One benefit living social
at Highland Manor Apartments
until decrepit and bent...
constitutes qualifying for reimbursement
direct deposited into checking
as chump change event,
hence one generic grateful gent
feels self satisfied as Clark Kent.
After broken wing and prayer
granted courtesy The Flying Tigers
at long last located valuable information
issued December of each year
surprisingly enough exactly where
social security (2021) 1099 form
remained untouched, I swear,
yet earlier yesterday April 5th, 2022
at 1500 hours though very near,
and finally located necessary documentation
(think rental rebate) here
with unexpected discovery
birthed following poem aware
many if not all avid readers
will not care, nor give rat's a$$
regarding humdrum minor dilemma
involving one bonafide
*****sapiens merely
bruising himself – common Joe
garden variety generic biomass,
nonetheless, he fetes, lauds, tauts...
rental rebate tantamount
approximating financial reimbursement
without being unduly crass.
Thus reasonable rhyme
yours truly doth aire
without stut... stut...
stuttering, yet no guarantee
wordsworth their weight
in gold will ring clear
more likely receive
frosty reception everywhere
across world wide web,
perhaps with unwelcome glare,
yet profuse apology
if man with wit - me,
(i.e. Whitman) didst unwittingly interfere
with unwanted distraction
courtesy bobbing square
pants donned sponge
soaking up precious time (yours)
foolish longfellow rushing in where
one capricorn long since wed
not nsync, but alone,
cuz angels fear to tread
"quod erat demonstrandum"
forgotten Latin accessed
at least once year
when yours truly crafts poetry
more familiarly recognized as Q.E.D.
(shares close pronunciation
with ska quid word)
ditch costs extra nay saying
horse sense according to Ned,
whoop sorry, I meant mister Ed.
I am located in a park, where I am contemplating adjacent trees.
One tree in particular has caught my attention.
With each thought I feel ever more at one with this tree.
How can I contemplate trees without becoming one?
Just think what happened to Narcissus, who turned into a daffodil.
Or the nymph Daphne, who became a laurel tree.
What's so bad about being a tree anyway?
Is not it a good thing to put down roots?
But what about the loss of mobility that would follow?
Trees have carefree lives, though.
No taxes, rushing to work, paying bills.
On the other hand in my present state
I need not worry about woodworm, acid rain, being pruned,
woodpeckers or serving the needs of leg-lifting dogs.
And family affairs? Hmm.. Do I want my kids to be nuts?
It's all very well to branch out - in metaphoric terms, that is.
Oh, that board meeting! It’s time to go.
Hey, my limbs are stiff.
I can’t move my trunk. My fingers are green.
Silly thought, no one turns into a tree these days!
Aaaaahhhhh!
Swish, swish. Rustle rustle..
Whats going on with Russell Brand? Over six million
Followers have penchant, he was once a man i did
Not admire..Yet over two years it has transpired Brand
Has burnt a brand, a searing line through mainstream
Medias fervid minds, though they'll rant and pant and
Roll the dice..Its not about whether Brant is nice.'
We know his past of women and wild, nights and drugs
And other vice.' Yet then no problems all was well, of no
Rape assertions did the media tell, no police statements
No interest true.' So like Julian Asange whats the real
To-do.? There's lots about Letby and some hospital dead?
Babies sadly we've read thats mainstream, covered.' They've
fired
Real heavy lead.'
And yet the number of wounded and dead, from jabbing
With m n r a..? Well they've seldom said.' Its mainly the
Green gods agenda they speil.' They feed out a line to
The people and then they reel' not as in real! You may
Understand, and genocide is just a word.' Do they have
It banned.? Not among the balanced sensible folk but
Among the zany, menageri of the most uncouth woke.'
As I sit in front of my computer,
My energy levels low,
As I fight the big C,
I am finding a consolation,
In doing five-minute jobs,
Jobs put off,
When quite well.
hiku images
frozen into epigrams-
tripping off a brush
| Year Posted 2010
The heat was scorching today
its flames licking the ridges of every soul to a boil
i was busy searching for a chill from an electric fan
an ice cream, the sea, a fridge, an air con, the azure pool
suddenly i heard a vagrant knocking at the door
”Pardon me, sir, I’m burning with heat
would you be so kind as to lend me your cold handkerchief?”
”I bet you are. So long as you’re on the street,
you always are. Only, I don’t have a cold handkerchief.”
”But the heat is really, really killing me, sir.
A cold handkerchief might just cool me down.”
”I don’t have a cold handkerchief. But, I’ll give you a jug of water.”
”Ah, thank you, sir.”
But I handed the hobo a cold handkerchief anyway
which he received from my stiff, frozen
glacier-like fingers
as his frail body was melting to a springing
kalkausar
that drowned me in
to a chill
We met at point forty five
At the stop, the beast on four wheel drives
I intentionally ask for the travel fee
Unconcerned about your impression on me
The moment you spoke of the bus cost
My numbers and calculations were lost
I wanted you to be the ying to my yang
Be the caller, as my telephone rang
My wise professor taught me mathematics
With formulas got my mind performing acrobatics
When letters and numbers were combined
I hoped that we were eternally entwined
Can I ever find e if u are square root to 128?
128veu, I don't wish for you to carelessly illustrate
Although the axis x was shorter than y
However your line will still converge mine
"Yang", you called facing the scintillating sun
Far past distant plains where we scorch and run
You are my "Xiaoping", capturing my troubled heart-
A splintered cork you used to sealed as treasury art
To the antique shop of organs you visited
Lies my draining veins stood so privileged
Satisfied with the length of my heart rate
I mailed gratitude to my aesthetic fate
Can you calculate if my rate was abnormal?
Alas! With you, I am immortal
My ancient professor taught me algebra
Equations that held us like bunches of abaca
That engulfs the arid earth with triumph
My axis extends higher than a tree's xylem
The horizontal axis of x for Xiaoping
And the vertical axis of y for Yang
If those axis intersects at point forty-five
It will equal to a pronumeral U and I
chilled bottle of wine
stockings hung over her chair
candle lights the way
naked on his bed
she pretends to be asleep
a valentine treat
he comes to her
a single red rose
will she be satisfied?
For Linda's Contest
haiku 575
questionku 456 ending with a question.
MIRROR IMAGE – Octogenarian plus
Now
Here he comes
Master of the mansion –
complete with wrinkles, gas, cataracts, arthritis –
His mental package stuck in 30s fashion
The first chore was getting out of bed
Getting straight
Then into his head
That dreams have been scorched by light of day
Talking to himself –
this type insanity impending –
With quiet, projective things to say -
like
about normal toiletry and medication
all protectively arranged –
Done!
Then what?
What indeed when highlight of the day is
Going to market
Slowly driving his car
Remembering where in hell he parked it
Cats, birds, squirrels his friends -
uncomplicated you see –
have become so dear, like family
During his daily nap
Whiskers snuggles under his arm
With Tabby and Sweet Puss on his lap
Ummmmmmmm?
Well?
There’s lots more to tell about his day
But
Oh, hell!
Forgot what I was going to tell!
By the way
What IS today?
Three camels met in the hot sands one afternoon. They traveled far and came from different places.
One camel said, "I have seen a lot of camels like me everywhere I traveled, but I haven't seen one like you two."
The two other camels looked at each other and nodded.
The second camel said, "I have traveled a lot and haven't seen any similar like you two."
The first and third camel sneered.
Then the third camel said, "I never heard camels talk like you two."
The three happen to be an old ordinary plain camel, a bactrian and a dromedary.
Moments later, a new camel arrived. The fourth camel said he is from Yemen.
The three camels were amazed... seeing a freak dromedary with four fully-formed humps.