Best Slicking Poems


Premium Member The Dallas Cowboys

THE DALLAS COWBOYS

Can you not hear the rumblings of that distant herd coming,
The loud thundering of destiny’s champions crossing, the NFL
Field of dreams, beware the rampaging lightening team known
As the Dallas Cowboys, for they are the hail storms victorous
Breed, the eye of the hurricane riders, searching for their
Well-deserved trophy of fortunes honor! 
Remove your cowboy’s hats of respect unto them, ladies
Curtsy with reverences motion, for these athletes are
Endurance’s best, and they shall overcome against
Any opposing finest challengers, these rangers of the
Old western traditions, that carry this country’s time
Honored name of the cowboy to the ultimate extreme,
Of skill and strength’s dexterity!
Dallas all plain drifters of purity’s valor, head to head
No bull horns about it, these are the champions of the
Gladiatorial games in the world of sportsmanship!
Yielding unto no oppositions combatants, these warriors
Hold their ground with distinctions sheer magnificence!
Let those world famous cheerleaders scream with every
Field goal achieved, for these beauties know that no
Other team in footballs annals will score, to the level
Of these good old boys, named by fame's hall of records,
The famous Dallas Cowboys, heehaw and God bless hum!
Now listen you city slicking team of sports hall of fameing
Seekers, you’d better go back to your home fields of 
Advantages, for hear in this lone star state, we take no
Prisoners, and show no mercy to out lander's!
Here in the ALAMO state of freedoms calling,
We remember our heritage standing tall and 
Proud against all odds, blazoned in bullets
Historical legends, our grand team barres
The name of fore-barriers proudly, those
Pioneer’s men known, as the all American
Cowboys!
These six-shooters whom rode the die hard tails,
Across a new world creating a country of freedom,
Where only the tumble-weeds rolled, and desert dust,
Coached a man’s thirst almost to madness!
Now in traditions sport of men, a new team of desperado’s,
Threatens this lone star state, but have no fear my fellow
Texans for our Dallas Cowboys will send them packing,
With a good old boy’s field goals smacking, so I’ll cheer
Them on, waving my hat in the evening air, yelling heehaw,
Go get hum boys!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
FOR LINDA THE DESTROYER
ROCK ON SISTER POET
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: slicking, dedication, football, heart, imagery,
Form: Free verse

Something New

Something New

Have you longed for something new
like ketchup on your crackers
To hang out till the break of dawn
with multiple kick backers

A peanut for a new best friend
unless you are allergic
A submarine in your back yard
so easy to submerge it

A watermelon kitchen sink
with seeds to help the drainage
A brand new wash cloth made of fur
to softly clean the stainage

A pickup truck with tap shoe wheels
so down the road you’re clicking
A new comb for your head of hair
with grease for easy slicking

To stick your neck out really far
like you have been giraffe-ing 
Have you longed for something new
like this that leaves you laughing

10/15/18

Written for: The Trying Something New Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter


This was a tough one and definitely something new for me. : )
Categories: slicking, humor,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Rolling the English Premiere Credits

Boys turned into men 
Acting chivalry needing to defend 
Thackray who never was 
Due to the wasp woman wanting buzz 
Gunners waited for Watford to arrive 
“Foul!” they did claim in a cry 
On target goal after the penalty try 
Followed by one then another
Sunday’s mother 
Agree those went in 
Later on Arsenal committed an innocent sin 
Deeny connected 
Shot was not protected 
Three one at the break 
Story brewing about the yellow jacket relegation wake 
Being well back 
Singing stingers put together an attack 
Calling upon Danny to give a whack 
A nice song he did bellow 
Not enough to save the hives, dear fellow 
For the longest time 
In her own mind 
Mrs. Harris 
Just home from Paris 
Thackray did not cause any trouble
There was no reason to blow any bubbles 
As time ticked away 
Grealish earned his claret blue army pay 
Slicking it through the post 
Mrs. Harris a few seconds later returned the gesture with a kind toast 
A draw 
Was the call 
And Aston’s Villa would not be sold 
Since they did not fold 
“Send down the Honey Cherry Buzz flavor” 
Second tier league requested as a favor 
Mr. Bourne with toffee candy in the mouth 
His cherries ready to head south 
But today he enjoyed a sweet victory taste 
Wasn’t showing ill feelings or haste 
Instead filled with Goodison’s grace 
Citizens on the other hand made the canaries look like nothing 
Man City netting five which was something 
Four sixes were on the executive level table 
Two were issued to pensioners writing a Chelsea fable 
While the Red Devils had a pair 
Enough to scare 
That pesky fox 
Now having respectable stock 
“Worry about a single commitment next year 
And enjoy that cheer” 
Was the message 
About priority addressing 
As for Thackray, the west ham 
Romantically united Mrs. Harris succeeded in her plan 
Next time a gale force winds come through 
Infecting play asking ‘what are you gonna do?” 
Do not put the season in the hearses 
Just be sporty write creative poetic rhyming verses 

The End
Categories: slicking, england, home, london, marriage,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Wrestling In the Crowded Corridor

I made a journey through the crowded corridor, 
And saw the lions and other wild beast wrestling
The place was thickly, slicking with human most important tissues
The crowded corridor was roaring and scary
Wrestling, oh! Wrestling among the big and mighty beasts

I made a journey through another crowded corridor, I discovered the colony of fish and shark things were different
Then I inquire of self, why should my colony be dark and scary
I know wrestling among folks is important, but it shouldn’t be this devouring   
There is wrestling, oh! Wrestling in the crowded filed




Dedicated to my country
Categories: slicking, corruption,
Form: Blitz

Grandmama Cooking

her  roots or the south
no doudt
shes has cook out
her food is oool
its all soul
as the story is told
its greens beans
the mean is lean
its finger slicking
you do  kept looking
at
GRANDMAMA COOKING
Categories: slicking, joy,
Form: Light Verse

Romping the Reptile

Romping on the reptile,
Drives me wild.
Playing hide the lizard,
With you.
Cures me from the blues.
Ascending and descending 
On your dark anaconda
Is a workout
Harder than video’s from
Jane Fonda.
Slicking your lizard 
With my mouth or my cushy
Makes me know
That you’re no wussy
You’re a strong, sexy man 
With my wanting tail in your hands
Guiding my tail up and down
Or stroking in and out 
Hiding that lizard
Making my body shake, gyrate, 
And swivel
Riding and romping the reptile
Certainly drives me wild.
Categories: slicking, girlfriend-boyfriend, life, love, science,
Form: Rhyme


The Minotaur

In the tunnel, cobweb-stricken and dank, a rat skittered to and fro, hitting his shoe as if drunk. The cockroaches joined in, slicking the floor with a beetle-black sheen. Unable to keep his footing he slid to his knees and, cursing his misfortune, he cried out loud,"where the hell am I? God rid me of this mess!" as the roaches covered him with a shroud of wriggling toes and waggling antennae. He staggered to his feet, brushing off the bugs, and placed his hands flat against the wall, feeling his way to the only source of light, a flickering candle on a mat, sticky with melted wax. The light brought into view a huge oaken door. He could barely pull the door ajar, and when he did, he caught a sign thereon which read, 'Beware all ye who enter here.' "Aaargh!" he groaned, "what the hell have I gotten myself into now."

...to be continued
Categories: slicking, fantasy,
Form: Verse

Laughter

giggling, chuckling, laughing, smiling
tingling in slicking health to sing
live with good heal
leave the odd feel
bring clown’s crown in life to be king!



-November 26, 2018 Chattogram
Categories: slicking, how i feel,
Form: Limerick

Push-Ups For Jesus: Part Ii

down on the ground in the early
morn down on the ground when 
lunch time rolled around down on
the floor when the night time 
swore to everybody else you know 
maybe just maybe it’s time to go
to sleepy but no no no johnny flexed
his muscular physique for the man
who he still swore had the plan.

one day while oiling up himself in
front of the mirror n’ crossing himself
while slicking his chest from the
father to the son to the holy spirit
n’ back down to gripping his 
superduperjesusconnector he saw
in the reflection of the mirror 
another behind him with a long
red pointed tale just like those found
in the cartoons that he always
swore were based on the same 
biblical fact cause’ he knew that
no one ever really denied that one
simple truth---that everybody in
spirit always did their own push-ups
for jesus.

johnny figured that he wasn’t doing
enough + he felt he was slipping 
back into something of a less fit
life + what would the man with the
plan think of him if his muscles 
slunk down into spam? 

he had to work harder
he had to buy protein powder
he had to spend more hours at getting
MUCH MUCH STRONGER
for jesus
because when the rapture came round
johnny doe you know he wanted
to be at the front of the line
with his oily glistening pecks screaming
in the name of mr. loaves of bread n’ fish
himself.

but that damn pointy-red-tailed thingy
kept coming round the gym n’ showing its
ugly head in the mirrors taunting 
johnny like no tomorrow n’ no matter 
how tight johnny made his buttocks he
feared being taken by the character called
satan.
Categories: slicking, life, time, mirror, time,
Form: Free verse

Coiling the Energy

On blunt edges, speak.
Hollow out the wheel of flowing windmill slurs
and words still in their buckets
Dripping, overflowing silver
into hydraulic rivers
on their way to mirror seas.
Worn down wood to hold the world
of all you want to say
Just now, speak.
Let the power of sustenance cool the feet
of flaxen haired children in a spark of the sun
on the edge of the sugared bank
They'll hear your hum, your rhythm
and nod their heads with a thought
that the wind might pick up at any moment.
Creaking mechanics jar the mind
to better days of oils slicking the wheels
and yet you still run.
You still speak.
And the town lights up all it's peppered white
street lights with your energy.
Little pops of heat against midnight's cold breath.
Children learn to read by the strung taffy sap
pulled through wires no longer touched by 
your electrified water.
And the sea pulls all it's soul together in the eagerness
to taste the warmth from your river's mouth.
All from your spinning wheel
with blunt edges
worn to perfection from gentle persuasion
and winsome words.
The whole town holds their breath,
the wheels shine liquid wood,
and you speak.
Categories: slicking, imagination, on writing and
Form: Free verse

Verge of Submersion

It's too early for the dawn to know my name,
to pull my pillow off my eyes and contemplate my still sleep.
The dawn is off pulling carts in other nations,
dragging mud on wheels and letting an orange glow 
glaze already hard at work hands
She is too busy with the backs of whales,
slicking their skin to shine at the surface
in the middle of a morning water spout
She too has to tend to sleepy flowers,
strengthened of stem from a good night's sleep,
ready to shed their diamond dew dust
and breathe into sunlight again.
So, who am I that the dawn should know?
Unless she realizes my need to see you~
catching your peace with the light in my hand
to wishes yet dreamed, unfulfilled
Perhaps she knows that the start of the day
is the first cast into a still pond,
the first bite of communication between the bustle, 
with what's underneath in currents, always moving,
always on the verge of submersion,
just waiting to be caught.
Perhaps if I move the hair from your eyes,
kiss the tip of your perfect kissing nose,
the dawn will know us both, 
and break the waning night to an orange
we can taste, and breathe and walk into 
awake.
Categories: slicking, happiness, life, love, nature,
Form: Free verse

Soul Cooking

its fingering slicking
its kicking
good taste
me it don't go to waste
am alway s looking
for some
SOUL COOKING
Categories: slicking, devotion, food,
Form: Light Verse

Call It a Comeback

I won't ask one question,
just stab my pen in
and draw out the ink,
nothing will stop my flow
with crimson words
and chunky verses.

The night is dark
and streaked with grey.
Mist swirls around my ankles
like a lovers caress.
The moon is up there
  but hidden
         a true hunter's nite.
I walk my lands
       enjoying the stillness,
                 ignoring the living,
they're just here to distract,
             not worth my time.

Fog rolls in
     like sheets of sheer fabric,
                  excluding me,
                       cuddling me.
I can feel the moisture
  building up
      on my skin,
slicking down my body hair,
smearing the blood
coating me.
It's trying to cleanse me
but it won't,
                     can't allow it,
       I'm enjoying this too much.

This is just my brake
from the hunt,
a day to let myself
                  grow hollow.
I see a silhouette
of my castle up on the cliff
The grounds below me
   are finally springing back.
My gnarled trees
               flourishing,
the bushes are flowered
               and spiky,
still a bit drab
           but that's how i like it.

Licking the platelets
        from my fingers
I keep moving
           (just like my quill)
gliding across my parchment
filling in the blanks 
                 with silence
                    too loud to hear,
too quiet to resist,
ripping into the foundation
hard enough to stop civilization,
making them wait
              for what I have to say.

Ash falls before my eyes
as the masses wait,
they don't realize 
I have nothing to say,
I'm just here to stir the cauldron
              get the juices boiling.
Havoc is my creation,
                 my spawn,
                 my lover,
the taste that sits in the back
           of my mouth.
Can you hear me
      screaming in the back
           of your head,
saying the things
         you dare not think about
and leaving that
   metallic taste
           in your mouth
as your lip bleeds.
Categories: slicking, angst, depression, imagination, on
Form: Bio

Slicking Ice Cream

it begin melt
fall on my belt
than it stick
as i lick quick
it begin to stream
as iam
SLICKING ICE CREAM
Categories: slicking, adventure, desire,
Form: Light Verse
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