Best Shimmied Poems
The moon shimmied up her pole in the sky
Winking at me with her crescent eye
The stars danced in time to a silent tune
As the season ended that started in June
O, one long last look at summer's constellations
Before they surrender to Fall's deportations
And the heavens assign them to regions distant
As brisk winds whisk them away in an instant
September 22, 2020
Completely Your Choice (#15) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
One brilliant tranquil day, around a turquoise lake,
Autumn had come in and brightly painted
so prettily the branches of the trees.
Overhead the gulls serenely soared.
Below them, water shimmered -softly rippled. . .
I thought how this was how the world should ever be -
beautiful and radiant, sorrow-free.
All of a sudden came a shift.
A strong wind swept the scene; all was transformed.
Fall’s vibrant colors shimmied,
till released, they spread asunder.
Small ripples changed to waves,
which angrily were lashing at the shore.
The seagull’s laughing cries had disappeared.
And streaming rays of sunlight had
become absorbed by darkness . . .
a dreariness and dreadfulness and cold.
In the reflection of the shadows,
I found my flimsy jacket, flung it on,
and clasped it close to me - then even closer.
Wishing that all mankind could find illumination,
I forlornly contemplated that this
was how the whole world would come to be,
and sooner than we know. . .would so remain.
This magical fairy who paints my dreams
Has blushed my fantasy in subtle hints
That kissed dreamy night on the thrills of fall--
An amber delight on the hills hued brown
I have known her long since blossoms of spring
When grass was green in the lilting prairies
And scent of my garden perfumed soft winds
While butterflies roamed in search of honey
Upon summer's zeal she shimmied with breeze
And teased my musings in rustles of trees
As echoes of love waltzed on humid air
And sailed with me on tides of blue ocean
I see her charm now as leaves turn crimson
When desires of passions our moods invoke
And moon’s shadows on rushing water float
In waves of romance where blue river flows
She waits for me beneath twinkles of stars
Where scarlet vistas blaze autumn’s canvas
And holds me closely in rhythms of her heart
As pulses soon dance to nightingale’s song
But, just when it's time to satiate dreams
Alas! she leaves spanning mystical wings
Though this quest chased passions illusory
Cherish I'll, always, daydreams she lent me
April 8, 2021
Ten syllables per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Placed 1st: This or that, vol. 1 poetry contest
Title chosen: Chimera
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Has anybody ever noticed
That women are built to complain
They always ask where you've been
But they never let you explain
So here's some new excuses
That work from time to time
If you ever run out of your own
Feel free to use some of mine
I was helping an old lady 'cross the street
When she got run over by an elf
I couldn't find a doctor anywhere
So I had to do surgery myself
I passed a burning building, when a lady cried out,
"Please Mr, Save my child"
So, I shimmied up the drain pipe to rescue the kid
While the firemen just stood there and smiled
I went to the bank to deposit my check
When five men walked over in masks
I used kung fu to take them all down
Before the teller even asks
So that's my story and I'm stickin' to it
Believe what you wanna believe
It's not lying, it's only excuses
No matter what you perceive
When Elvis sang he rocked and he rolled.
His fans jumped up and shimmied, I'm told.
The folks in Tupelo
got all shook up below,
like devils and demons got a hold.
The suburban pressure cooker expelled its multiethnic horde north. Laden with implements of leisure, bicycles, kayaks, canoes and camping gear; world weary travelers of urban and suburban bent surged north ever, north. Bucking, they wrenched in unison at road repairs, shunted into single lanes by flaming orange cones of warning like so many track horses at the gate. Tail bitten, truck locked windows up; the denizens drove forth cocooned in metal steeds seeking the clean air and open expanses, north.
Few, freer souls dare the unfiltered air of the artery, north on motorcycles or in convertibles, hoods down, or windows down, blaring an enlivening mantra of sixties rock as they shimmied forward in the in the endless conga line of commerce, past urban blight. The trip north became a Chaucerian Pilgrimage from Nutmeg State to the Green Mountain State of Vermont.
The border crossed, the sky opens wide-eyed, ridge rimmed dolphin gray clouds swim in a cerulean scene. Roadside picnic tables fill. Monarch butterflies flit in the breezes between majestic rows of pungent pines. The whoosh of traffic dulls and the robin’s call emerges over the roiling hills and gurgling brooks. Silence falls, complete; upon the entrance to the first gravel road. Heaven is immersed in the scent of fresh hay and sweet purple clover.
Graceful Galaxy
Like strobing specters she shimmied
Gracefully gliding, sharing her shine
Heavens light lingering, laughing
Star light, star bright
Like peaceful poetry she perched
Luminescently looming, manifesting mystery
Soulful glow searching, waxing, waning
Magical Moon, majestic
Like fierce fire she flowed
Melodically meaningful, showering shadows
Bright light, guarding, guiding
Sultry Sun, smiling
Like a quintessential Queen she quilted
Persevering paths by sewing stitches with
Stubborn strength and subtle spirit
Devine beauty, powerful passion
Languishing in the luxuries of her glorious, graceful galaxy
Josiah left the little critter cage
Open at its door.
Little Charlie hamster knew
and climbed down to the floor.
Little Charlie hamster
Made a daring escape.
He slid down the banister
And shimmied up the drape.
Josiah finally noticed
The little rascal gone.
He made a panic search
Feeling sad for for what he'd done.
He looked in all the corners
And under the covers on the bed.
He ran downstairs to take a look
While Charlie watched from overhead.
Josiah shook his head
He knew not what to do.
He couldn't tell his Dad
Or charlie hamster would be through.
Suddenly Charlie lost his balance
And gave himself away.
He tried to scamper down the drapes
And Josiah saved the day.
Well we certainly did it last night
When we went grocery shopping, there was a slight oversight
The dog will not eat his regular feast out of the bag under the sink
But he won't go thirsty, he will have plenty to drink
He's a good old boy, he will not complain
We're having Meatloaf, Mashed Potatoes topped with the dog's Gravy Train
The chunks seemed to soften as they were put on the stove to bring out the flavor
The family will find out if it is something a person would savor
The smell was quite odd, not bad, not good, just odd
Maybe this would be gourmet in some areas abroad
As the kids sit the table, with the plates all the trimmings
The secret item is reduced to simmering
Everyone is ready to hear about the brown chunky stuff on the potatoes, I begin to
explain
We forgot our usual Mc Cormick's instant, so we had to Fido's Gravy Train
Everyone at the table looked at one another
I hand the first plate to their mother
The next serving I passed to our daughter of age three
Then the next one came to me
I took one bite, the chunk shimmied down the throat
My stomach instantly began to bloat
The three year old took a bite and passed gas with the sound of a Whooping
Crane
Needless to say we gave Fido back his Gravy Train
For merely a hunch or a hint of a kiss
I nearly was lunch for a hit on a miss
She shimmied for me in a short pirate skirt
No army of men was a match for this flirt
I started to flee in the face of a rout
She called me at once and she turned me about
In only a bit I was back to her side
My courage was hit by the lack of my pride
She puckered for me like a heady young lass
My body was tuckered but ready for class
She stood there like cream that was ready to pour
I knew that my dream was too good to ignore
I almost was tempted to go back to work
The job of a pirate is nothing to shirk
The thrill of the moment was pressed in my mind
No luck of the lady would leave me behind
My greatest concern was the captain's own good
Who surely would kill for the lass if he could
Or hate me and weight me in deep-water drink
The fate of a date with his daughter, I think
My mind was prepared to be pared or adored
Or find that she scared me and there'd be a sword
A weapon to thrill me and fill me with fun
Or maybe to kill me and spill me when done
For these inhibitions, I needed more time
My living traditions were not in their prime
Perhaps she would thank me or think I was shy
Or maybe just spank me for getting her high
Her lips were still puckered in place of a pout
In only a moment my luck would run out
To tease her for naught would be tempting my fate
But that's what you get when you balk at the bait
I knew she despised me for acting so dumb
But then she surprised me with bottles of rum
I figured she liked me and wanted me bad
Or maybe she spiked me with something she had
She shuffled my way with a sly, subtle grin
A silent rebuttal to scuttle my sin
She stood on my feet and we giggled like fools
Then matter-of-factly she rattled my jewels
I fell in a heap as she ripped her own dress
Her daddy would beat me and make me confess
I knew that my chance to survive was not good
A pitiful dance on a long plank of wood
I knew that I lost on my very worst date
A victim of love to my scary first mate
Her guile was more than you miss in a lass
But that's what you get when you kiss out of class.
I was dancing at a dance club
Two stepping all about
When my thumb, it found a belt loop
And I couldn't get it out
I shifted and I wiggled
I thrust my hips out front in time
I bent over and I shimmied
I was twerking on the line
Now, I ain't no Miley Cyrus
You can believe me now or not
I wasn't up there twerking
It's because my thumb was caught
I sashayed and I moseyed
And others got up too
My thumb was still encumbered
What the hell was I to do?
I was twerking like a mad man
Not knowing how, or why
But the pain in my one digit
Just made me want to die
Maybe now I know the reason
Miley Cyrus did her dance
She wasn't up there being slutty
She had her thumb stuck in her pants
Now, I'm through with twerking
And there's is one thing that you'll find
That unlike young Miley Cyrus
You don't want to watch me from behind!!!
Sally's stuffing eggrolls in the back room.
Filling them with beansprouts
in case they have a boom.
Hundreds of these eggrolls
piled high for later.
Boiled in an oil
for each and every crater.
Some will go behind the glass
warming in a pan;
shining in their dipping oil,
tempting for a span.
Placed upon a plate and shimmied
to the side;
up against some rice
that's deep and dark and fried.
Dipped into a plum sauce
sweeter than a sneer,
and spread out on your plate
as far as you can smear
Flavour by the mouthful
damp and moist and wet
Sally's making eggrolls
the best that I can get.
I was never afraid to
Tell the story of the panic doors.
It once began while I shimmied my
Way up a lattice and
Into the guest room.
I felt like a child on the
Verge of an egocentric breakdown.
Full to the brim with euphoria.
Vibrant and agile and overwhelmed.
I could hear her shifting pots on the
Burners down stairs.
I could hear him breathing fast.
I swear to this day I could hear
His heart beat from that windowsill.
When I slid my way under the glass
It caught my skin and tore the flesh.
I didn't feel it until he forced his thumb
Through the rupture in the scarlet abrasion.
I watched as a plum colored stream slid
Down the underpass of
My hips and his fingertips.
A plum colored stream
In sexed up heat
With the breaks of
The dishwasher latch clicking.
A green light at the docks end
Showed worries puddled up
And wetting an open wound.
I felt as eager as a child,
Snipping the ends of dusky hair
At midnight as
My mother wondered beneath her sheets.
I let a few sighs and groans
Seep though the guest room
And down the stairway
Where an indebted woman
Tiptoed, curiously.
Then the creak of the panic doors.
One Brick At A Time
The boy shimmied like a determined squirrel
upward stretching reaching
for the ascending bricks of the chimney flue.
one brick at a time
one foot snugly ensconced
in its leveraged place
and then another toe-hold there
as he sat atop the roof
of the old rumpus room
out back amidst the ivy vines
and the palm frond towers
with a Tareyton Cigarette ad
affixed to the glass door
he saw his special friends again
gliding in the distant wind unseen
except by him, the boy who stood
watching the break-in up there
a square door the size of a house
opened masterfully and unbelievably
with fire and burgeoning smoke
and then it closed again
with a shifting cloud
concealing the In and Out Door
for all human souls ever created
from here to there, from now to then
they took him for a speck of human time
erasing his memory of all unknown encounters
until a later time
now
the barbed butterfly
she shimmied onto a barstool
looking for a nine to five reprieve
a fight or a night
which ever came her way
black pencil skirt pulled up so far
jacket slung across the chair
says I don't care
it's Friday.
g and t with a slice of lime
melts her
slick cocoon.