Best Schmooze Poems
Sensuous allures float in pulchritude of white swan
Upon your lotus pond, arousing visions of romance
As I see you there where pink blossoms dance
And kiss your presence in ambiance of golden dawn.
Nary a cloud foreshadows my blue sky of tomorrow
As primrose emotions evoke blossoms of meadows;
In emerald green terrain, there are no dark shadows
For memories of yesteryear bear no hints of sorrow.
You entice ruby moods applauding crimson hues
Cheering for our love in chrysanthemum flowers,
Bright red tulips, soft pink roses, and spring rain showers
As ode of desires muses love-verses you schmooze.
And you sparkle gemstones from prisms of tinted dew
Igniting passions within whiffs of scented breeze
Caressing my wishes in embrace of seductive tease,
Instinctively aware: how these arms long to hold you!
September 24, 2019
Placed 1st: Pick a title, vol. 9-enclosed rhyme poetry contest
Title chosen: These arms long to hold you
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Placed 3rd: Strand 660 contest by Brian Strand
Categories:
schmooze, love,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
So many people complain when they lose
To gain better rankings, judges they schmooze
And if they don’t place, their egos are bruised
They even use blogs simply to recuse
To some extent, these attacks may amuse
But their true intent is to light a fuse
Comments from favor seekers surely ooze
Superlatives they always overuse
They don’t know how to give honest reviews
“Luv” is a word they quite often misuse
Seeking to have their poems perused
But tell them the truth and they’ll sing the blues
It’s a game of getting comments and views
If you don’t play, they will transfuse
Words of anger from an inadequate muse
Categories:
schmooze, satire,
Form:
Rhyme
A course-correction knife was plunged too late.
A smile was still, upon her lips, that date.
Clueless, for most of life, the cherries, green.
Her shoulder-bluffs and high-peak cheeks are seen.
She stands five feet, barely a statue-bold.
Appears quite warm with bundled arms of gold.
A pointed thumb at chest level. A charm
Bracelet does shake with silver-fake alarm.
The lyrics play a lycra-schmooze with stretch.
Uncanny walking cane, amidst homestretch.
A slide puzzle, her wrinkles crash and burn.
Only then, girl, a happenstance upturn.
A giving tree, with scathing sack of seed.
The dandiest scatters of yellow weed.
A field not quite a rose, with weaker stems.
A chosen path amidst headstones - few gems.
But remembered, oh yes. Her name engraved
and youthful picture set. ‘Tis what she craved.
Categories:
schmooze, imagery,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
In July mosquitoes fly
And hummingbirds are humming.
Bees will buzz and all because
They don’t know fall is coming.
Weeks remain so none complain
That summer zips by quickly.
School is out and kids, no doubt,
Don’t mind when skin is prickly.
Folks will schmooze at barbecues
And drink like no tomorrow.
Through their sweat, they all forget
These days are just to borrow.
Categories:
schmooze, july,
Form:
Rhyme
She was a cute little girl with orange dancing shoes.
Those dancing shoes had rhinestone eyes that could schmooze.
Her name was Willa May, and she had a bear that was purple.
He begged her to name him King Bear Krabby McMurple.
Of course she did, because she was in charge of her bed.
Which is where he sat watching Willa May paint her doll red.
At night they would cuddle up and go into a deep fun sleep.
Dream adventures took them all over the world in a big yellow jeep.
They drove to Africa, Hawaii, the Atlantic Ocean, and Timbuktu.
They saw parrots in the jungle. One of them a brilliant azure blue.
They tasted Belgium chocolates when in Europe, so delicious too!
They travelled the world over and over in their hazy nightly hue.
Mommy and Daddy sometimes went them if they decided to let them in.
They went swimming with the dolphins, and the sharks loaned them a fin.
They loved their dreamy dreamtime, they took naps each Saturday.
The rest of the time, they hung together, skating, biking, and had bubble play.
Categories:
schmooze, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form:
Rhyme
They planted Hank 'neath a lonesome pine when he came to the end of the trail.
Angels ushered him to the Great Beyond and through that Mysterious Veil.
Saint Peter greeted him, sayin', "I've been a-hankerin' to meet ya, mate!"
Hank noted a sign readin' 'COWBOY SPOKEN HERE' atop the pearly gate!
"I want ya to meet a posse of pards that've been awaitin' yer arrival Hank;
There's Zeke and Tex, Fred and Jack, Moe and Slade and Jed and Frank."
"Ain't no bacon er beans here" said they, "On the choicest grub we dine!
If'n ya hanker to wet yer gullet, there's a Feller who'll turn water into wine!
And then appeared his faithful hoss Old Dan a-sportin' golden shoes!
Old Dan neighed as Hank caressed his pal and they had a genial schmooze!
On Old Dan's back embellished with silver and gold was a western saddle.
Right then and there Hank mounted Old Dan and off they did skedaddle!
As the Lord promised in the Good Book, a bunkhouse was part of the deal.
He dwelt in a room fit for a King with TV and DVD, seeming so surreal!
Hank wore a cowboy suit adorned with diamonds, rubies and jade,
Plus pointy-toed Calvin Klein cowboy boots and a vest of finest suede!
Lastly, Saint Peter placed upon his brow a bejeweled ten-gallon crown,
Sayin', "Welcome to the ranch, pard! Ye've rode the range with great renown!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Categories:
schmooze, humorous, , western,
Form:
Rhyme
The last few agonizing moments aboard the ill-fated Titanic,
Were no doubt filled with horror and unabated panic.
She slipped 'neath the waves to settle on the floor of the sea,
To create a watery grave for 1500 souls who rest for all eternity.
I dreamed that I descended to her resting place 13000 feet below,
Where eternal darkness reigns and deadly currents ebb and flow.
As I neared her eerie hulk I felt that I trod on hallowed ground,
Taking care not to step on the many personal items lying around.
There were many poignant reminders of life on that cluttered floor;
Ladies shoes, leather caps, crystal wear, china and so much more.
I saw the two massive outboard propellers in the distant gloom,
And the towering mast lay upon the deck where it met its doom.
I entered her interior and viewed the once magnificent dining room.
Remains of fine china and silverware were scattered in the eerie tomb,
Reminders of exquisite dining by the beau monde on her maiden cruise,
And nearby the beautiful reception room where the elite met to schmooze.
I awoke from my dream with a start and later upon reflection,
Mused upon the 'unsinkable Titanic' and man's strive for perfection,
And concluded when man in his foolish pride doth egotistically exclaim
That his schemes and follies are indestructible, he is doomed to shame!
Entry for Rob Carmack's "Dreams Contest"
Categories:
schmooze, boat, ocean, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
All hail to thee love, your swave "eh" intrigues me.
Your embattlements stack like wet cordwood
upon the pile of used newspapers in my outhouse,
making the use of a corn cob most appealing.
I feel the need of purification, rejuvenation by fire.
Like holding a match under your out stretched eyelid
or maybe, just maybe sweeter, a cold sore
on the inside of your lip; so neat on a dinner date.
At least these things are real.
The lip has to heal, which it can do even if left alone.
Not like made-up words which have no direction,
no qualitative analysis, and no meaning
in the perceived circumstance or illustration.
Just made-up words which fit a line,
and you call it poetry?
You schmooze a line of B. S. at the reader,
in trite cliché and rusted phrasal tone,
riding the pretense of the sublime
and you call that poetry?
But then geezzz...? what can you expect
from someone whose only goal
is to piss someone off?
Categories:
schmooze, on writing and words,
Form:
Free verse
IT'S
A DAY
WHEN WE
HONOR THE
MANGER-BORN
KING, WHO WITH
CAROLS WE PRAISE
AS THE STEEPLE BELLS
RING. IT'S WHEN PEOPLE
RETURN TO WITH FAMILY BE
AND TEAR OPEN THE PRESENTS
PILED UNDER THE
TREE. DECORATIONS
ABOUND AND ENLIVEN
THE DAY. SMILING HOSTS
WILL A BANQUET DELICIOUS
DISPLAY. AS WE COMPLIMENT
COOKS WE WITH GUSTO DIG IN.
AFTER END OF DESSERT, WAISTS
NO LONGER ARE THIN. WHILE SOME
ELDERLY KIN TAKE THEIR AFTERNOON
NAPS, ALL THE YOUNGSTERS PLAY GAMES
OR JUST GAZE AT THEIR APPS. MANY OTHERS
RECLINE TO WATCH FOOTBALL
AND SCHMOOZE. IT'S FORBIDDEN
TO MENTION POLITICAL VIEWS. WE
INSTEAD THEN DISCUSS WHAT WE DID
SINCE LAST YEAR, WHILE MORE CAKES WE
CONSUME WITH OUR COFFEES AND BEER. WE
SPEND HOURS HAVING FUN WITH OUR CLAN AND
OUR FRIENDS. THEN WITH VANISHING SUNLIGHT THE
AFTERNOON ENDS. AFTER HANDSHAKES AND HUGS AND
EXTENDED GOODBYES, GUESTS DEPART BEARING PRESENTS
AND LEFTOVER PIES. WE FEEL SAD AS WE WATCH ALL THE CARS
DISAPPEAR FOR WE'LL MANY NOT SEE UNTIL THIS TIME NEXT YEAR.
THIS LONG, GLORIOUS DAY
WE SHALL ALWAYS RECALL
AND SINCERELY HERE WISH
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL.
Categories:
schmooze, christmas, family, food, fun,
Form:
Shape
We write to you, your elfin crew,
To wish you joy and cheer!
For Christmas is upon us now -
The climax of our year.
We've toiled together - unified,
In our allotted crews.
And now we're stuck in training,
With barely time to schmooze.
The toys are wrapped, the sleigh is packed,
And Rudolph's fidgety.
Soon you will be making rounds,
As is the policy.
But though this yule is almost nigh,
Our merry Christmas vibe,
Is tempered by the memory,
Of those whom we survive.
Let's not forget the bristling sprite,
From northern twinkle-land.
Who's wisdom and composure,
Helped our vision to expand.
And over waves, across the sea,
The imp with shiny pate.
A knowledge store of rare repute,
And empathy, innate.
We can't forget the trollish clown,
Our western-most remote.
Who's antics in the darkest hours,
Kept our hearts afloat,
The reindeer trainers will be missed!
So poised and capable...
Were they in their instructions -
Irreplaceable!
So Santa, sir, we write to you,
That you may not forget.
The legacy of our brother elves,
And the hole which they have left.
Please strive to know our jobs' detail,
With depth and clarity.
And leave us not unbalanced,
Chasing prosperity.
Enjoy your well deserved respite,
As you rest and sip your brew,
We wish you Merry Christmas,
Your wearied elfin crew.
Categories:
schmooze, christmas, metaphor, silly, tribute,
Form:
Rhyme
Shopping with a girlfriend, we went to schmooze
at Steinmart: she looked at clothes,
I looked at shoes, found D'Orsay pumps,
circa 1940s, black leather, of course, 2" heels,
and even worse, zero support of any kind.
To the world at large, I posed this question,
"One more pair of high heels before I die?"
"You Go Girl," was one reply from woman nearby.
They made my legs look like New York City,
but more's the pity, I'm 80, not 40, and
these killer pumps so sexy pretty, I took them
home to the practice zone. Next day,
a train wreck of reality check-- much regret,
Steinmart accepted my D'Orsays back.
Categories:
schmooze, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Slim's cowboy hat warn't no fancy Stetson, that's fer shore!
He'd paid five smackeroos fer it in a Sears 'n' Roebuck store.
But it served him jes as well through his cowboyin' years,
Roundin' up, ropin' 'n' brandin' cantankerous longhorn steers.
It didn't have no fancy rattlesnake band er feathers in its crown,
But its droopy brim shaded his mug when the sun came bearin' down.
It'd been stomped on, rained on 'n' sweat-stained 'n' looked a fright,
Drug through manure 'n' mud, well-stained from its original white!
Besides protectin' his vulnerable skull from the rain, snow 'n' hail,
He found many creative uses fer the old hat ridin' a cowpoke's trail.
It was useful fer feedin' oats to his long-sufferin' horse, old Nell,
And dippin' drinkin' water from a stream - it served both of them well.
It held water fer Slim when he took an occasional shave,
And I 'spose could've been used fer a much-needed lave!
It was good fer swattin' flies 'n' mus-skeeters from Slim's face,
And givin' Nell a whack on her rump when givin' dogies chase.
The hat shaded Slim's face from the sun when takin' a snooze,
But it shore got in the way when with his gal he desired to schmooze!
When he came to the end of the trail the hat was buried with him.
St Pete said, "Howdy! But we gotta do somethin' 'bout yer hat, Slim!"
Categories:
schmooze, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
I didn’t win at Mah Jongg,
Losing every single game,
But nonetheless I’d say
That I enjoyed it all the same.
To sit around with friends and schmooze
And then to break some bread –
There aren’t many things that I’d
Prefer to do instead.
Though often I’m competitive,
With Mah Jongg I am not.
I’m really not too good at it,
But give it all I’ve got.
So even if I have a day
Where losing is my fate,
I still look forward very much
To my next Mah Jongg date.
Categories:
schmooze, games,
Form:
Rhyme
Samson was known for strength and flowing mane
He loved Delilah who became his bane
Through many a bedroom schmooze
She found the key to his ruse
She barbered him bald in a coup de main
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
schmooze, funny,
Form:
Limerick
Mah Jongg in the afternoon
Always ends a bit too soon.
We laugh, we chat, then play begins
And 'fore you know it, someone wins.
There's so much left we must discuss,
So four more walls are built by us
And tile by tile, they disappear
Until that "Mah Jongg!" shout we hear.
And then the game's set up once more
But we know what we're playing for -
A chance to catch up, share and schmooze;
It doesn't matter if we lose.
The hours fly by - must be a trick
The way the ending comes so quick.
At least we plan another date -
I wish we didn't have to wait.
Categories:
schmooze, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme