Best Sassiness Poems
You look sideways at me
I look straight on at you
You glance towards me
I stare at you
memorize the stiches of your coat
they are uneven
it must have been handmade
You look up at the sky
I look at your shoes
They are slim and obviously Italian
You've been traveling in Europe
I look at your cheekbones
You stare off at a tree
It is a beautiful tree
though I cant see why it has captured you
I' look at your hands
they're nice hands
expressive hands
strong enough
big enough but not too big
kind hands
You turn to the left to look out over the gray blank sea
I know we're not going to see each other again
Even the stark greyness of the Cape in late November is more compelling to you in this moment than I am
I am dancing colors
I am a fragrance
of clean smells
I am sauce and sassiness and ideas and concepts
and wants
God how I want you
But you would rather look at greyness
I will never see you again
Thank you for the kiss on the dock
Thank you for the dinner and the dance
Thank you for the moment in the library when you looked into my eyes for one very long minute and I felt alive
Just before you asked me to the dinner dance
But you seem to have lost your moorings
You are like a boat
A buoy
or a wooden raft
floating
you don't know North from South
East from West
Now your sails are not catching the wind
You are sort of flapping
carelessly
aimlessly
I watch you like watching a crab scuttle up the beach
Fascinated
I will never lose my way
( That's a lie)
Tonight
You were simply a dock
that I pulled up to ...tied off
Tomorrow the sun will rise
and I will feel full and excited
I'll move on fast
throw off your bow
You were like the wild north wind for me tonight
for about 5 minutes
The wind is fickle
When the wind changes I tact
While you were in my sails I did love you
Like any sailor is impassioned by the beautiful wind
that suddenly drives him forward
the exquisite unbelievable .... unspeakable
tarp full sail pulling hard
I will miss you
But only like I always miss the wind when it dies
No more and no less
my sails will be full and my beautiful ship will be headed out to God knows where
But you my questioning friend will not know enough to follow
You will be still looking left and seeing only the gray of Cape Cod in Winter and
There was a glorious softness surrounding the pretty May day.
Animals felt it in the meadow, but could not explain it for it was unusual.
A fantastic pink sky possibly set the mood or maybe it was the violets.
Sprinkled across the verdant grasses, they peeked at the warm sun.
The sun smiled, understanding the uniqueness of the season.
Feeling welcome and cherished by the furry scampering creatures.
A poet sat watching, his pen in his hand, too mesmerized to begin.
A squirrel ran past, flashing her tail with a knowing sassiness.
Summer was waiting, but for now, May was more than enough.
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HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A FAT SNAKE???
Snakes are squirmy and sassy and naughty,
snakes are wormy and creepy and haughty.
They sleep and hiss and eat all day,
they creep and miss their feet to play.
At the zoo I met a snake big and fat,
Mr. Bleu was let out by the pig and sat.
Vertebrae with a long tongue to scare,
from Paraguay sung a song declared.
Mr. Bleu eats rats and sheep and cows,
a new peacock trapped in a heap by the bough.
Last night I heard a Wild-a-beast cry,
his fright concurred the snake’s feast dry.
He preferred moist meat not old jerky,
he heard the Hoist speak happy and perky.
“You fat ol’ snake get out of this zoo!”
But he sat on a steak, that cruel Mr. Bleu!
He stayed and snacked on a poor giraffe,
he laid on his back all sore and then laughed.
“I’m fat and don’t care what I eat around here!”
He sat and stared on a seat without fear.
Too bad that the green elephant ol’ Mr. Trick,
was a sad marine irrelevant and quite sick.
He turned to Mr. Bleu with a face of disgust,
so stern and threw up with haste so robust.
Mr. Bleu got squirmy and his sassiness died,
he knew he was naughty and with hissiness cried.
“I can’t believe you’d do that to me!”
Mr. Trick wouldn’t leave and stood by the tree.
He stumbled over to the cruel Mr. Bleu,
his tummy rumbled and knew it was true!
The naughty snake shriveled up and retreated,
so haughty and stayed belittled and defeated!
Date Written: May 25, 2016
They said it's in my genetics from generations in the past,
My ancestors struggled with the same demons I face,
My up's, down's, mania's and I'm a consistent outcast,
The day I was born was the beginning of my crisis of faith.
"Oh, what a lovely little girl full of joy and sassiness,"
The signs were all there that I would struggle one day,
For in my blood I have inherited the will to be depressed,
And since that day I realized no one knew what to say.
Little girl growing up just to try to please everyone,
Teenager full of angst and suffering break downs,
Don't get me wrong, I've had a lot of fun,
But with too much liquor and so quickly did I drown.
Receiving genetic transmissions from all my predecessors,
Full of regret and shamefulness encompassing my soul,
Falling into the forever trap of high school's peer pressure,
Spinning and swerving and sleeping too far out of control.
By the time I hit thirty years old I cleaned up my act,
Sought professional help and support of my family,
Finally I have put forth sincere effort to get back on track,
Said one last goodbye to my distant best friend calamity.
See...these things I've been bestowed may sound bad,
But if not for the hell I wouldn't be heaven bound,
For in my blood there is triumph and I DON'T have to be sad,
And serenity and confidence I have finally found.
Why were there so many snakes crawling through my blood?
And how did I kill them at such a young age?
All the black electricity flowing through my body I unplugged,
And in the book of my journey I have flipped one more page.
Date Written: November 28, 2015
peppy porcelain puppy poops on the floor
wacky winged walrus whizzes on the door
enigmatic eonian elephant espies some bamboo
clever castrated cormorant shrieks yahoo
brassiere-busting bonobo barfs on the table
maniacal mystic monkey freaks on cable
sly sonambulent sloth bear slumbers in his cave
natty naughty nutty newt nests in a wave
dizzy ditzy doormouse dances with a broomstick
tawdry turgid tiger toys with his joystick
rugged recondite raccoon races up rut-marred roads
finicky febrile frog farts on frightened toads
this sonnet celebrates sassiness midst sundry incantations
~ surrenders to insanity and scoffs at punctuation
that fine day
wind in my hair
sun on my back
i'd noticed your smile
lightening my way we'd
canvased life's scars
sudden callings mounted
above a sassiness
for peace the berlin wall
crawled awkwardly
chains rattled steel doors
grounded throughout
salted stone
an yet you sounded
the trumpets opening
rusted gates
right off the hinges
oh how small i felt
jesus welp as
your words finally
come into existence
blind no more
and seeing
i am a human being
Think High
Live in the earth
But dream with the sky
Never settle for less than you deserve
Your happiness, thoughts and emotions
Must always comes first
Believe in yourself
And in how amazing you are
Never lose the smile on your face
Or the sassiness on your walk
When you feel like
You’ve lost your ground
Just look, and see
All that you have around
You’ll see love, devotion and trust
You’ll see your chosen family
Made by love, not blood
Those are the ones
That’ll always be there for you
On the good times, and bad ones
Forever
Thru and thru....
****
August 05, 2016
Let’s celebrate our…
Ambivalent attitudes
Brave boldness
Creative curiosity
Desirable delightfulness
Enthusiastic expectations
Fabulific Ferociousness
Golden goals
Humanistic hopes
Intelligent imagination
Joyful jolliness
Kinesthetic kindness
Lovely laugh
Marvelous manners
Nonsensical nature
Outstanding optimism
Playful presence
Quintessential qualities
Radical reviews
Savvy sassiness
Terrific tones
Universal understanding
Valiant verbosity
Wonderful wildness
‘xceptional ‘xpectations
Yabba-dabba youthfulness
Zesty zaniness
My canvas is swirling with sassiness
Purples, greens, fuchsia and limes greet each other
Mixing it up in a frenzy of sorts.
They snake in and out of themselves
This is something I have whipped up for fun.
Like my thoughts, my canvas ebbs and flows like Chopin.
I begin to think about my internal organs – the colon maybe.
There are the lungs, the pancreas, everything alive.
Red is an afterthought; not at all planned.
She pulls everything together in a delightful way.
I am not trying for an end result or a product.
With painting, it is all about the journey.
My reptilian brain sighs with relief.
The importance of creating is two-fold.
It is the sense of play and the gift of relaxation.
Poetry has died replaced
with raining madness cunning
thoughts battered heart
bickering minds the absence
of simplicity a calming time
the laughter of Amos and Andy
reading of Langston Hughes the
braising nesting belligerent from
Ernest Hemingway mingling with
this fondness of Robert frost
the bold sassiness of Maya Angelo
mastering the crafty sinking mental
turmoil of Virginia woolf needing to
die to be heard cradled beneath
painful sighs of Emily Dickenson
brillantly craving morbid hints of a
pastel death blooming tangible
lessonscovenant only by dramatic
hues canvases Jane Austin's youth
bestowing the missing pieces to
caressing thought of the creative
mind separating emotions embracing
thee enchantment of the galloping
Greek muses within a moment of
silence poetry is simply no more
Fluffy hair on nanny goats
Crazy curly milk lined throats
Give them a lively happiness
Their exuberance such sassiness!
Fluffy hair on nanny goats
Crazy curly milk lined throats
They show their spark in barnyards now
They prance and cavort, truly know how!
Fluffy hair on nanny goats
Crazy curly milk lined throats
Amid imaginative fantasy
These happy animals will be
Fluffy hair on nanny goats
Crazy curly milk lined throats
They make me chuckle laugh, tee hee.
Rough goats so happy and carefree!
An echo of crimson nights call onto you
as I brush up against your tan skin with
ease.
for you are my abode
my shelter from pain
my perpetual home
The stars no longer silent;
my arms no longer abandoned.
The sensual desire within me ignited-
Your deep burning embers make my
shadows of silk turn to ash of passion.
For I am your lioness and you are my
mighty king preying only on my love....
PLEASE NEVER LET ME GO.
Disassociation used to inhabit my mind-
Forever further from reality with an
endless need to connect.
I do hope our vow of love’s constitution
seeks only a kismet of loyalty as years
pass...
(and yes, the years pass too quick)
I sense the way you look at me when
sassiness prevails-
you giggle,
I smirk,
and
we laugh
"My love,
like dreams of a waterfall waning
with lily pads of ivory and green,
you are my river of romance-
a gentle man sincerely serene."
a gentle wave cascades through
dulcet tunes my mind sings for you-
for you are mine and we are one,
and what we've become
can't be undone.
flowing with you near
down a reverie of love-
take my breath away
*my hubby has always taken my breath away, even way back when I was 16 and we first met. Twenty-three years later I am almost 40 still wondering what I did to deserve him. He deserves this trophy way more than I do for sure. May he read this (as he reads all my poems) and see my love shine through. I love you daddy, this one's for you*
Written: July 13, 2019
Your Best Poem That is Trophy Worthy (Premiere Contest Trophy) Contest Poetry Contest
Tania Kitchin
"Back to Life
You are not dead
You're alive in Christ
Back to Life
Mama poetess
Lugha ya mama, Lugha ya mama,
Mama poetess
Back to Life"
~
Still I Rise By Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
"Back to Life
You are not dead
You're alive in Christ
Back to Life
Mama poetess
Lugha ya mama, Lugha ya mama,
Mama poetess
Back to Life"
Maya Angelou, "Still I Rise" from And Still I Rise: A Book of Poems. Copyright © 1978 by Maya
8/6/20-2020 " "by Souper ©
Back To Life Poetry Contestr Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
A warm breeze to soothe away my pain
A gentle nudge a kind reminder
that with every momentary loss is gain
that all things go through the grinder
to stress less is a small blessing
swinging in the strong arms of a breeze
this notions makes all of life at ease
watching the dandelions dance in it
to be lulled to sleep with it
to receive a small reward because of it
the sassiness of the wind to taunt us so
to create chaos with one blow
so i adore its simplicity
the simpleness that is
an Autumn Breeze
Romanian maiden with an angel’s face
A gorgeous body, and a walk of grace
Swirling hair with a bit of a bounce
A mystical magician with an adorable flounce
Surreal ideas swirl within her mercurial mind
Brighter than Zeus’ daughter, one of a kind.
Time would stand still for her if it could.
She has an intense passion for being good.
She reads our palms and our tea leaves too.
We are mesmerized by her azure eyes of blue.
She cares not for our opinion but lives her truth.
She is an anomaly, this attractive maid named Ruth.
Her prophetic ways are scary for some.
She is exciting and resourceful; we never think dumb.
She has talents she might have not yet honed.
Her sassiness is subtle, and her confidence owned.
Many are jealous but cannot fathom her friendship.
She is active and fun. Knowing her is a fantastic trip.
I am glad to call Ruth friend, and she calls me pal.
She is ethereal and fine, a terrific esoteric gal.