Best Sidestepped Poems


Just Like Football I Am Waiting ,

Just like football I am waiting ,
on the side line,
To go up on the field,
Yes we are playing Goodooga,
Aboriginal big guys, tough as steel.

Here comes Albert racing faster,
Trotting down the bloody wing,
Gotta stop him, take him head on,
Hit his ankles, the hurting thing .

Fell him like a big old tree,
Pot belly lands on me ,
I’m a still a seeing stars,
Shadow sparring, 
all round me ,
Get up you silly Galah.

So there I was out on the wing ,
Waiting for a pass to me.
Intercept, Albert's a coming ,
 he passes ball, dodges see .

Just a few of broken arms,
Black eyes worn with pride.
Rugby Leage  what a battle ,
Carry the ball through the other side.

Running for the other goal,
Sidestepped Albert, got there see.
Not a bloody forward pass,   (illegal)
 Planted it between the trees.

At 17 I was in an interstate game,
between Dirranbandi n Goodooga, we lost. (shame)

Premium Member Blade

The mighty steed was black as night.. (Cobolt was his name)
His rider, Blade,  a Warrior Knight
Swiftly through the dark forest he rode
A realm he ruled with an iron code
He was in search of his  magical blue amulet
Stolen he believed by a raven.. his enemy's evil pet

Blade was aided in his search by his gray owl
Who flew night and day as for the raven he prowled
His enemy,  Prince Zoxi, waited at the forest edge
To kill Blade he had made a solemn pledge
As Blade neared the end of the forest
He drew his sword , which glowed with a fiery zest

The two warriors met at the break of dawn
A fight to the death now began
The battle raged through the early morn
The swords echoed with each clang
Deftly,..  Blade sidestepped a thrust.. and  his fiery sword found its mark
Prince Zoxi fell to the ground
The Warrior Knight of the forest dark
had inflicted the fatal wound

He ripped his  amulet from Zoxi's neck
And on his mighty steed he made his trek
To his dark forest haven
And his gray owl overhead, and in his talons,  the evil raven
The caw of the raven was heard no more 
And over the dark forest the gray owl soars

A new enemy from the west,  Bomani,..  The mountain warrior, drew near
He shudders when the thunder of the mighty steed he hears
And riding boldly to meet him as with speed his mighty steed explodes
Is.. BLADE..  The Warrior Knight of dark abode
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.

Yuan Oranaga-Taunga Was Here

Don Johnson Yuan-orang

We was in Coles a shopping center,
The wild man from Borneo appeared,
He reared up an started spraying 
Yuan Oranaga-Taunga was here

Followers in their blue-gum robes,
With bark a prickling round their ears,
With dollar coins attached to ear lobes,
Dodged and sidestepped as they savoured
Uric acid and sweet urea,

Holy-man was gesticulating,
Gonads flashing so sincere,
Red hairy waistcoat ever stating,
Yuan a Tanga was the seer,

Deported then he was so,
Dropped by parachute we hear,
Back to the wilds of Borneo,
Thought blinking Wombats bloody *****…

Don


Premium Member Red, 1965

He entered the dark house 
	through the unlocked kitchen door, 
	his house until the separation,
	found his way 
	down the dark hallway 
	to the bedroom,  
	hid in the closet, 
	the door slightly open to 
	a clear view of the room 
	in the half-light of a full moon. 
	Sweaty clothes piled
	on the closet floor	
	didn’t matter; 
	he had other business.
	
	He settled in 
	for a long wait, 
	almost nodding off, 
	staying awake 
	by rocking toe to heel 
	in his Redwing boots, 
	left arm cramped 
	from gripping his gun. 
	He could have laid it on the floor, 
	but he might not have been 
	able to find it in the dark, 
	so he held it, 
	and waited.
	
	Soon enough. 
	there was laughter
	in the kitchen,
	metallic sounds of ice 
	dropped into glasses, 
	ardent whispers growing louder 
	as they moved to the bedroom, 
	dancing a bit, 
	arms around each other. 
	She turned on the bedside lamp. 
	Red removed her blouse; 
	she unbuttoned his shirt, 
	let it fall to the floor.

	He kicked the closet door open,
	stepped into the room, 
	raised his gun and shouted, 
	“It’s my turn to dance.” 

	Red turned... 
	Two bullets pierced his chest. 
	He fell backwards onto the bed, 	
	rolled off to the floor,
	didn’t move again.  
	
	The shooter stood quietly, 
	relieved and satisfied, 
	watching his wife 
	kneel beside Red’s body. 
	He sidestepped them, 
	switched off the light 
	at the open door,
	turned to look back, 
	said to himself,
	“That’s done...
	I need a drink.” 

	The murder was ruled justifiable homicide. 
	He was set free. 
	That’s the law down here in Texas.



	The applicable Texas law was written in 1856, and stated that, “Homicide is justifiable       when committed by the husband on anyone taken in the act of adultery with the wife, provided that 	the killing takes place before the parties to the act of adultery have separated.” Texas law considered these murders justifiable homicide, and completely excused the killing. The law was 		repealed in 1973.
	
	Paraphrased from “Law in Western United States,” 
	by Gordon Morris Bakken

Cassius Clay

Cassius Clay, in his day,
 was bloody hard to beat...
but smoking Joe stood toe to toe,
and no he wasn't weak, 
fought the rumble in the jungle, 
just the ladies made him weep:)

re :" Muhammed Ali"    Andrea Dietrich

 floats like a butterfly stings  like a bee.....?

Don Johnson

quick as lightening Cassius was,
tapping slapping dodging cos,
the big ole thumpers if they clipped,
pon ya ear it ud hurt a bit,
just floating slappin hey....

Thanks Russell mate...Don


for Cassius Clay,
 it all seemed play,
to slap and taunt a bit,
lightening quick, weaved  and hit,
and sidestepped, jumped away,
but time the toll does pay,
like me, he's had his day:(
best boxer he was it!

Premium Member Silently Seeking Solitude

Slipping silently, serenely sober, 
Somnambulist seeking some solitude 
Shuffles, self-styled, still sleeping so soundless  
Solitary search--simply solipsist. 
Some sadder simpleton slipped severely, 
Searching so silently, supposedly, 
Slipped solemnly, sidestepped suddenly!

FIRST PLACE WINNER
March 23, 2021
Entered "Seeking Solitude Alliteration" Contest
Sponsored by JCB Brul


Cyril Brown

What to Submit?

1 original, poem on the theme of ...Give me your zaniest funniest Poem you can Muster up~~Be Silly 

Cyril Brown

Oh his name was Cyril Brown ,
An he weighed 300 pound,
An the Sand goannas sidestepped, 
where he stomped.

Little centric was ol Brown, 

Sometimes, often came to town,
To watch the kids, 
and peanuts there to chomp.

Oh his poor old car did suffer,
With a sandbag for a buffer,
And his voice got a little gruffer,
A flaming counterweight .

Bark hut to house was sort of,
On the Station ranch was thought of,
Brother Mark would listen,
to the snakes under the floor.

And the Rabbit bunnies springing,
The birds were chirping, singing,
And carpet snakes were bringing,
Tucker more n more n more.

Brownie had an iron bed that suffered,
Bowed and flustered, busted ,
And the peanut shells, 
stopped the opening of the door.

Once he towed young Mark to town,
On the Fergie tractor, brown,
And at 50 mile an hour was still a flying,
And the tractor was a bouncing,
 trying to touch the ground, 
announcing, would he ever get to town?

Mark wasn’t really sure, why.
A friend waved to ol Brown, hi,
At 7 foot tall, a local yokel clown. 
So he hit the anchors with a frown,
Tractor tried to knock the back door down,
Brownie muttered with surprise.

So then back off to town,
Dragging tractor, 
sidestepping round,
Got to Dirran then he stopped,
To buy more peanuts brown.
Don Johnson

Leprechaun

Leprechaun

The Leprechaun sprung from the corn,
said "me name is Paddy,
Dontcha be looking all forlorn,
I aint a real gone baddie,"

"For me pot of gold, sell ya soul,
Needing it quite badly,"
"Egg sucking leaves me cold,
Specially when their addley,"

"Sign this deed ya little nasty weed,
Gives me ya souls proxy,"
Arfur sidestepped to buggery, indeed,
poor  leprechaun, crotchety….


Sponsor Debbie Guzzi Contest Name Creepy Irish Creatures

Byron Mcgovern True Story 1900

Byron McGovern (true story 1900)

At Denowan near Goodooga,
lived Mc Govern so they say,
At a Church of England mission,
Aubrey lived there anyway,

now Byron McGovern got arrested,
Black Trackers they said sure,
in jail he was invested,
his tracks came to the door,

the murderer was cunning,
tiptoed to Byrons' camp,
pulled on Byrons' muddy boots,
 tiptoe running, in his dance,

Frog Morton he had no chance,
foul murder it was done,
axed to death, the Emus wept,
bad signatures on the cheque book, one,

Byron sidestepped the gallows,
no death for murder him,
the forgers face was sallow,
slip knot got tight and grim,
and the corpse did swing a swing,
and justice came ashore,
some stupid bloody ding a ling ,
got his karma bloody sure....
Don Johnson

Jealousy

He stood upon the parapet
Tittering on the ledge
Giggling to himself 
And shuffling closer to the edge

For seven storeys down below
His wife and lover stood
He knew what they were up to
And it surely wasn’t good

Chuckling to himself, and 
Moving slowly to the verge
The anger burning deeply, and
It fired a deadly urge

Laughing like a loony
Leaping headlong from his roost
Madly flapping arms to give 
His fall an added boost

“Your smiling now you rotten cow
You won’t find this so funny
I’d rather die than let you try
To get hold of my money”

Half way down toward the ground
His progress slowly halted
That crazy grin turned awful thin
He thought his plan was thwarted

His braces caught the flag pole
And it hindered his descent
He hovered for a moment
And then flying up he went

Bouncing up and bouncing down
Till finally it stopped
He smiled a rueful smile, and then
His trouser buttons popped

Continuing his journey
As he hurtled earthward bound
His wife and lover sidestepped
And he crashed into the ground

Laughing like a drain he seemed
To find it awfully funny
Though nearly dead he turned and said
“I really missed you honey”
© John Fenn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Strawberry Sherbert

I had strawberry sherbert dreams
   until they got sidestepped by 
     melancholy chocolate cake.


My dreams shattered like crumpled 
                 pie toppings.
Now I have no desire for sweets.









Alexis Y.
03/26/2021
© Alexis Y.  Create an image from this poem.

Memories Kick

memories hey, 
of a kick in the ass today,
got my share in my upbringing,
stockwhip lash ,
by dr crippin,,
great write, well written,
smack under the lug today...
thoughts are staggering away,
dropkicked rooster got hard bitten,
but dog sidestepped away....

thanks Ruben O "didn't dont"

Don

Nemesis Wayne

yes i set out to say one thing,
inadvertently say another,
and how they read between the lines,
disturbs me cousin, brother,
good ole wife stealing cousin Wayne,
sidestepped almost yet again,
but up an died,
suffered pain,
prostate specified...
bit lame.

nah johnson hasn't lied.... 	

 Lizzie Treetops, "Truth or Fabrication " I found this poem  in my comment on it 
Don 

I used to live with Cuz and he showed me a girl that i caught an had for 22 years,
but true to his colors he finally managed to entice her away....after 20 years of trying:)

Premium Member Hidden Rainbows

When the truth gets sidestepped
to satisfy Hope...
it’s a sad lesson in life.

Not giving my feelings free rein,
I've opened myself to vulnerability.
And on hearing my heart cry out
struggling under the weight of despair
I was moved to tears.

My life is a never-ending story
of how love was found,
    only to be lost.
For the reality I clung to so dear
was a dream, from which I've awakened.

Tears don't harbor hidden rainbows:
only sadness marks their release.
And pain surrounds doubtful decisions,
yet Hope still urges me forward,
despite my anguish.
One dream.
One heart.
One soul.
Words that once defined who I was
are snagged on the jagged edges of my broken heart.
And a flood of hurt morphs into tears,
as I mourn a love lost to time.

Premium Member High Heeled Feris Wheel Riders

High-heeled Ferris wheel riders,
cackling as if their tails were afire. 
Red mouths agape, screeching at stars
round and round spinning to black.
Rouged rough riders finally seduced, 
stumbling from buckets into the sequined night...
Bargain beer freely flowing 
cut-offs and halter tops glowing. 
Everyone's tongue becoming a knife in a sideshow...
The tacky and raspy crooked floor games.
Strong man lifting balloons above a puffy sad face,
Nothing is classy but the two-headed snake.


Between the dill pickled fog and vanilla milkshakes
the Ferris wheel suddenly stopped.
They sidestepped the giggling turnstile
and slept it off on the L train.

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