Best Riviera Poems
Being sensual isn’t necessarily about sex.
I recall a night of such immense innocent delight
that all my senses -heightened- far exceeded
my teenage expectations of romance.
My sense of sight had already been triggered
from the moment I first met the young man
whose eyes so flirtatiously met mine.
As sweet as chocolate, his eyes melted me.
His smile was honey and his voice too,
which dripped with an accent which was French -
instantly attracted my sense of hearing.
In the front seat of his Buick Riviera,
this boy from Quebec taught me the allure
of taking time . . .
taking time to gaze into each other eyes,
taking time to feel . . . to really feel
each little nibble on my ear lobe
and the sweetness of his breath
at the nape of my neck; to feel his fingers
as they softly traced the features of my face -
worshippingly -
as if I were a goddess he was touching.
Even my sense of smell was aroused by his colgne.
Taking his time . . .
such lingering precious time,
he arrived to that first anticipated kiss,
and my sense of taste was then aroused,
for his kiss was ambrosia of the gods.
To touch his silken skin and hair,
and then to feel his lips moving smoothly over mine!
In synche with him -
romance was nothing but sublime.
All the while his hands – so magical -
caressed my hands, my arms, my shoulders,
and my back down to my waist.
Feelings I’d never experienced before
overwhelmed me with bliss.
I was still a virgin, and he knew exactly how far
not to go.
Keeping me at the brink
of something I was not to know till I was married,
I was more than satisifed and never before in my life
had I felt more cherished.
Every sense of mine was totally engaged
by his dulcet whispers
and the beauty of his eyes, his nose, his mouth,
and his entire tall slender body.
The touch of him, the feel of him,
and the feel of MY burgeoning emotions -
for me this was a virgin’s dream
of sensuality.
Feb. 3, 2021
for the Sensual Poetry Contest of Charlotte Puddifoot
It's the only land that you can
get all seasons in one day
you name it UK displays it
all the colors from blue to grey
It certainly has loads of great variety
from sun clouds snow and pouring rain
to hail winds storms and freezing ice
has such a staining effect on the brain
The north is such damp climate
having wet damp miserable outlook
fills one with negative thoughts
when sun shines it seems a fluke
In the south where it's bright
as it's mostly warmer with sunshine
for it's labelled the English riviera
where it matures like a good wine
The east has real mighty gale force
as America's conditions effect the west
when they come across from States
on the atlantic waves full crest
So that's Britain's wayward weather
like it or lump it that's your lot
remember you guys across the pond
don't send everything that you've got!
(Just some thoughts on the UK weather and how it varies so much, also a little quip at you guys in US where we seem to get the effects of your east coast storms but rarely your sunshine. but no matter we love you all!!!)
Cuter than a June bug was Blossom
Bubba's hound had a nose for possum
Bush moved and they watched it shake
Not a possum, dadgum snake
Bubba took aim, results were awesome
Tweren’t the end of Blossom’s era
Sucked out venom; used Aloe Vera
Dinner was finger lickin’
Snake tasted just like chicken
Felt like a Redneck Riviera
*Entry for John Freeman’s limerick contest
I had the worst terrors last night
My mind was in a gruesome sight
The ‘ol apocryphal scene
Insighted by the new regime
Migration bill stirs fear among
Farmworkers chant that It’s Wrong!
Phone app saves Honduran journalist
Can’t go back she’s on their death list
Can’t walk ‘n get food without stress
ICE is cold, enforcing arrests
Or anywhere, nonetheless
For a green card is meaningless
Now a tourist destination
Gaza's newest sensation
Take over plans for a Riviera
Palestine people’s tierra*
Taken; territory sovereign
New rich owner YOU ONLY gain
Who be the beneficiaries
Billionaire contemporaries
For undoence he’s called a hero
Those sacrificed their life for, zero
Those fought for everyone’s freedom
In vain forgotten in this new kingdom
Unbeknownst me how it plays out
Living in the USA, peace-out
I brushed aside
My faraway glimpses,
The many consequences
Of trifle revelries I wasted
Grasping the snippets of night time
And all abandoned pining.
Bouquets of fondled whispers dangled
Among damp stems along Riviera beach,
Still molding flit kisses in balmy shades
That stretched on coasts of sudden farewells.
Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place Contest
He walked into the place of my employment.
I was the only one at work in that small convenience store.
His aura was that of an angel
with the hint of a devil in his grin.
My attraction to him was immediate and amazing.
Tall and dark, he was the Adonis of my dreams.
I saw him from the corner of my eye as he lingered close by.
My Adonis was also watching me!
Daily that week he appeared around evening,
flirting a bit and making small talk, his grin ever enchanting!
I can’t remember of what we spoke.
I was too lost in the beauty of his brown eyes.
Finally, he asked me out. Why did he wait four long days?
To his country he would return from his short vacation
the very next day after our one and only night out.
I was never to see my young man's dear angel face again.
As I awaited his entrance to the store that big night,
I was aching with longing to simply be near him.
Other dates on which I’d gone were the most ordinary of tunes
compared to the romantic aria that played out that precious night.
We had driven off in his uncle’s Riviera, the car he'd borrowed.
Like his caresses and kisses later that sweet night,
even the automobile’s name is seered into my brain.
By that one September night with him, I was left ASTOUNDED.
Jan. 17, 2020
Though I used all the words, Astounded is my chosen word which
best described that indelible night right before I turned 17.
Ebullient charm cascades
in the rolling valley of time,
changes color with reflection of chromatic sky
from dreaming dawn to dulcet dusk.
On sensuous azure canvas the artist mind
paints the poignant panorama of dream.
Life becomes the euphoric sky
called marvel. .
In the riviera of surreal trance
dreams drift in from infinite nowhere
on the trail of collapsed time, past and future.
With multicolored strands of fervor
the creative mind weaves the tapestry of feeling,
shrouding everything that seems gloomy.
Life becomes the patina of emotion
called joy.
In the river of eternal flow
mariner mind sails on winds of ecstasy,
past the grime of eroded wasteland banks,
across the broken bridges falling behind
to merge with the twilight hued serene sea,
stretched still at the edge of sunset tinged horizon.
Life becomes an ethereal perception
called beauty.
Written : May 27, 2019
Submitted for contest : Completely Your Choice (5)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The One Percent
I have outgrown longevity
and poverty has taken the best of me
and now I am an indigent hack
I stopped dying my long hair black
it would wise to speed up my demise
to smoke , imbibe and pack away carbs
to swill the wines of Government need
to live my life without despair
then die for no one else will care
Theres nothing more for me to fear
but then we have Obamacare
Someone has bought your American Dream
and collectively bargained the Unions out
who created the once known Middle Class
which is now replaced with American Greed
How much money can you spend
until you reach the bitter end
for helping somene can go far
In the scheme of life of
how much is enough
avoid the third martini at the bars
limit yourself to just five cars
The French Riviera is no more nearer
Then Deerfield Beach in your area
think of all the dough you’ll save
to pay a tax for the struggling knave
or someday you’ll lose everything
and say to yourself what have I done
To join into the paupers fun(d)
This is NOT a political poem-just satirical fun
An eighteen year old sailor on the Riviera in the Spring
Mademoiselle Your smile can make my young heart sing
Cannes, Nice, Monte Carlo who could ask for more
I volunteered for the USO, so on duty days I could be ashore
I held her hand and said bon jour, i danced with her that day
Looking into her eyes, Aime-moi, s'il vous plait
Stopping by a sidewalk cafe, we had a glass of Beaujolais
Then I walked her home and promised to meet another day
Two days later I returned but she was nowhere to be found
I saw her one more time before my feet left solid ground
It was a one time memory, a love not meant to be
She returned to college and I returned to the sea
I still have those memories and the wonders that we saw
But to cry, i'l n'est pas necssaire pour cela.
I think back sometimes and it cuts me like a knife
France will always be a special part of my life.
The French sail
To the Riviera
From the metis
To Canada
They became Acadians
And settled in Port Royale
Their lives were famine and conquest
But that didn’t hurt morale
The British were closing in
To evict the Acadians from the land
But they stood strong, and refused to yield
The British took control, and so began the great upheaval
Heed the wind
that rocks the sea
That carries the Acadians
No one be free
It’s a cold moon
an old man looks upon
The only home he ever knew
And now his world is gone
His wife had died in labor
He had to start again
He found another wife
Had two children while his first bred was a man
They travel on the Duke William
The sickness takes many down
He feels the sickness coming in
Before his life be drowned
The ship moored off Canso
After the violet sank
Duke William would follow in Tow
His old life returns to the age
His son lives on
To move to Cajun’s wood
For the Acadian spirit carries on
To the future of his brood
Time Unperturbed
As the sun rises and the moon hides
another day thrive
Fields burst with grain hungry little bird
eager to imbibe
Chanting hymns celebrating life
voices heard full of vibe
Time spinning wheels unperturbed
for love shall survive
02/21/2021
4:46 p.m.
Riviera Beach
Florida USA
Eyelids heavy with memories
Cover lights and shadows of a hospital in ruins.
A baby with grown-up fingers
Reads the past in Braille
Barely touching the meaning of broken cobblestone streets of her past.
Her fingertips retract like eyes of snails back into the present
Where handsome men - immoral in their animalism -
try to understand LOVE for the very first time.
Great White sharks kill tri-athletes and place them in immortality
as writers reach the end of the journey frustrated by their lack of gills ...
The torrid yellow burden rolls down incinerated crystals between her breasts
She senses people as zigzags with burglarized drawers
rhythmically roaming up and down the Riviera...
The ocean breeze murmurs: “ Michelle, my belle...”, “ I love, I love you, I looove you...”
Invading her nostrils with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee
and the smell of barbeque that, once she could digest.
The sun drops gold coins into the turquoise as they ricochet into her degenerating eyes.
I see myself in her from the above as unscrupulous tides rip open our sandy abdomen
Violently sucking my body's sand sculpture back to the undertow.
It's almost dusk and seagulls fly through me to a secret shelter I wish I had...
I'm scared to fall asleep as I might wake up without wings
while numbness's taking over my bleeding shoulder blades...
"The body of a peddler with broken clocks on sale
was found tonight
on the landing pad of a hospital in ruins"
for Deb's contest "Real, UNreal or SURreal "
1. The story started in sunshine on the sea shore
2. in reminiscent ambience like the French Riviera
3. where the colors of sunset were painting horizon.
4. When twilight merged with descending darkness of dusk
5. I saw your flashing figure, a fleeting deer, on the beach,
6. hair on air making charming lace on your face
7. blushing in serene grace in setting sun’s hued embrace.
8. The lasting picture I made into dream, I knew it could break.
9. That’s how my heart weaved love, and you … amorous tapestry
10. your sweet arms laid on an ardent pathway for me.
11. I saw it wind toward you as you paced in the wind,
12. a scene I’d seen in the mist of dream … I hadn’t missed.
13. The reverie came true when I slowly strode near you,
14. you let me hold your hands supple, how alluring they were
15. my mind felt … your love wasn’t the farthest one
16. for you were keen to lend your hand usher it in
17. from the waxing waves with the whispering wind
18. that broke the deafening silence between you and me
19. for we heard melody of romance in the air, in the heart
20. repeated again and again like the breaking waves,
21. the crests crowned by pearls pristine of the dancing sea.
22. In my own heart I could feel that you became only mine
23. so … together we could fly in the limpid sky of longing life.
24. At sundown hour like birds to the astral nest we’d return.
September 13, 2018
Poetic devices used in lines : 1. Alliteration, 2. Allusion, 3. Ambiguity, 4. Antithesis (also Alliteration), 5. Apposition (also Alliteration), 6. Assonance (also Consonance and Enjambment), 7. Consonance, 8. Dissonance (also Metaphor), 9. Ellipsis (also Enjambment), 10. Euphony (also Enjambment), 11. Homograph, 12. Homophone (also Ellipsis), 13. Internal Rhyme, 14. Inversion (also Enjambment), 15, Litote (also Ellipsis), 16. Metonymy (also Internal Rhyme), 17. Onomatopoeia (also Alliteration and Personification), 18. Oxymoron, 19. Parallelism (also Enjambment), 20. Tautology (also Simile), 21. Personification, 22. Pleonasm, 23. Metaphor (also Ellipsis and Alliteration), 24. Simile.
TULUM
a fortress on the cliffs,
smiles down
at the paradisaical
Riviera Maya.
iguanas, reside in ruins,
overlooking
the Caribbean sea,
sitting pretty
for photographs.
long gone from old world -
sacrifice and fear,
Mayan riches and power,
of Playa del Carmen.
iguanas rest, play
tourist peek-a-boo,
never give thought nor sorrow,
to the people of yesteryear.
we don’t fear their reptile existence,
their abundance,
nor daunting size,
perched upon impressive buildings -
an ancient city of life and death,
good and bad,
repainted by the critical sun.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
A classic beauty was his luxury Buick Riviera,
the name of which would never have stayed with me but for the fact
it became a carriage that transported me into magic.
His kisses were smoother than the leather seats on which we embraced.
As I gazed into the eyes of the most beautiful face -
that night and even the name of his car -were seared into my brain.