Best Ripe Poems
your presence is:
sweeter than a ripe mango
filling to the soul
© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., (Epulaeryu Master) 6/12/08
All Rights Reserved, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
Senior Advisor, to Founder of Motivational Strips
Ambassador De Literature
Noble Star of Literature 2018
Living Legend of the 21st Century
Pentasiv B World Friendship Poetry Featured Poet 2019
I popped my cherry
innocence...
a thing of the past
Inspired by Andrea's contest
6th August 2015
A day’s routine so easily holds me captive.
I confess to mindless, museless departures,
Brainless unpoetic habits so unreflective,
That I cannot dwell in momentary textures.
But January ripens oranges on my neighbor’s tree,
Marking spring’s beginning in California.
Midwestern groomed; such play awakens me.
Fat, lush oranges tumble all over the area.
Bold bright balls, they must be painted,
Landing in my drive, my car mashes them.
With this mortal crush, I breach life sacred.
Yet, once I eat one, it’s no longer a problem.
Tree of oranges brings fruit reviving passion.
Luscious harvest renewal of vibrant conception.
Autumn's arrival, ushering once more a door His harvest moon ? Dressed of pure..
Gold honourable's daughter her queen from Ophir virgins these, companions; entering
The King's palace glorious ? Arrayed be beauty their children; ten billion stars as she sings
Rejoiced true hearts love's patriarch; timbrels and flutes a nomad whom knew ? In Winter's
Glittering lights an infant's eyes His harps her chorus; Angels ? Divine, besought time's rosy cheeks.
This morning's succulent pregnancy
holds infinite possibilities of a 5 am kind--
ones that tickle the fancy
before ten thousand thoughts rush in.
Be embraced by the unspeakable
that tells all, says all, and more.
Be held in a thimble, completely full,
yet, never runs dry;
heavy, yet light to bear;
gold-embossed,
as grace's sweet tongue licks her lips.
Everything is gratitude and understanding--
at the deepest levels.
Just ask a ripe peach.
A chill of Autumn in the air
and spider’s webs are everywhere
these delicate exquisite works of art
such beauty and joy fills my heart
Old Man’s beard has just appeared
weaving its way through blackberry bushes
loved that name when I was small
to touch ~ so furry
to see ~ enthralled
Blackberries plump and succulent
awaiting to be picked
evoking memories of Mum’s fruit crumbles
blackberries and apples mixed
Sloes ~ a rich dark purple fruit
ripe and ready to bathe in Gin
patiently waiting
sloes luxuriating
tempted to taste
but must not haste
for to sip a Sloe Gin on a cold winters night
leaves a feeling of warmth
and another ~ well I might...
Written 12th September 2020
Contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE 8
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
on the feeble stalks
ripe Okra swings steadily--
a farmer sings
Ripe Mangos
overripe mangos
falling from a pregnant tree-
worms ready for feast
At the ripe old age of three, my small heart was breaking. Blackie had been killed, my best friend and playmate was gone. Why must he go to heaven, did God really need my little puppy? I climbed up on my big bed, with elbows on the window sill. I gazed out into the fluffy clouds and sky, after all that is where heaven lives. I talked to God for quite some time, asking Him many questions. After our long talk, I knew Blackie was OK. Now I knew God had heard me, We would be best friends forever.
Date Written: 8/15/2022
Walked out on my sidewalk to the mailbox,
on top of the box was a pair of socks,
I said as I scratched my head,
"Who would leave such socks of red?"
Neighbor's wife replied, "Nude gardening rocks!"
Humanity is desperate for a taker
The archaic foundation is shaken and
Bitter worms are writhing from among the cracks
like a slow nightmare to overtake
mom's apple pie
Nature responding reaches its arms
to its Maker
With a plea traveling on stale wind
come back in this dark hour and see
the need for food and water
a reliable electrical source
Arms wrapped in tragedy see no color
Help is a word uttered only by the needy
Breathing a resuscitating breath that empowers the greedy
Opportunity its glass to the door
Enters with the ring of a bell
The lie approaching full term
has a nation on bed rest
while little green men stand ready to wet nurse
this idea with dissenter blood
This Vamp
This beast has the most intriguing
and beguiling of names
With trumpets and fanfare
This babe arises
NEW HOPE!
And with her the ages change
She plucks out your heart and leaves your eyes in
so you can watch her
She loves an audience and like a lustful perpetrator
She presses her pointy finger to your lips and says
Shhhh.... Don't you speak
If you move you die
When she is done she bandages your wounds
and goes on about how lucky you are
You've always been smarter than me John
There are your degrees
Your craft to make stretchy taffy of the truth
and set criminals free
BUT LOOK AT HER!
Naked post mortem pale
Piss drenched rats scurrying about her
Gnawing nudging prying her lips apart
Leaving a crap trail as they squeeze down her throat to
Feast on her heart(What a heart, the best there ever was)
So they can find their way out after they've gorged themselves on blood
You used to love her John.
She's a whore.
She's somebody's daughter, a mother to many.
For God's sake cover her body
Men in lab coats with a wave of inconvenience are summoned in
Their necks ebb and flow with inconspicuous snickering
Then everything stops suddenly
a pupil dilated hush covers the room
the silence surrendering to drops of drool wakening the frigid
Coroner's floor
You know who........ YOU KNOW WHO THIS IS!
Quick, get out your phones
Let's take a group selfie
You know who this is..... Don't you?
Her name starts with an A!
A man walks into a room to smell the wallflowers
to find their petals plucked
Perplexed at first, he grimaces then glowers
Some people have all the luck
The sweet yet fetid smell of nearly rotten fruit
in a dank and dark corner
Wafts in the air like muffled notes of a flute
or the whimper of a quiet mourner
I pick up the scent of mint or maybe basil
and scoop up a wilted leaf
It's not yet brown but turning a little hazel
and I hand it to the bereaved
We share an over ripe plum and a pomegranate
with a timid shrinking violet
Such is the ephemeral nature of a dying planet
when we're all deaf and we're all silent
.
Ambrosial essence
To the eyes nose palate...
Deers jump six foot fence
life's meager, bottled
thrust of water opens lid,
moist earth ripens
"Cherry Ripe"
My morning
speaks
softly sanguine
blood red
Oranges squeezed
The juice on my lips
paint yours
the pink velvet
softly teased
Cherry ripe
South side salutes
seduction
tantalizing blue flames
and the golden fire burns
a dangerous mystery
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)