Best Sneak In Poems
…you knew
No one should know the things I know,
nor bear the scars of such knowledge,
nor should they be forced by circumstance
to discard all of memory’s treasures.
The Llama will spit when the burden’s too great
but the child, he will bury it deep
carry it with him wherever he goes
condition himself not to weep.
The Lion will roar when wounded and weak
lash out at the wind and the rain
the child will yell from his spot deep in hell
and be told he must learn to forgive.
The rats will sneak in – the rats will sneak out
and feast on the lies they deny
the child in plain sight will cry through the night
and be ushered away at sunrise.
There are cracks in the walls as the empire falls
yet the liars still raise a gold chalice
hide in the cloud of incense they spread
to obscure their despicable malice.
So if a child yells, tells you of cold hells
of memories tortured and chained
look into his eyes and search for his soul
and weep, for he knows that you knew.
©2/14/2018
Tom was such a naughty kitty cat,
when he saw spike asleep on the mat,
came up with a plan, ever so sly,
he thought he'd sneak in and eat his pie,
Tom began to plot his little scheme,
tiptoed inside, hoping not to be seen,
but then he felt a sudden shock,
when closing the gate, he dropped the lock!
Hit poor Spike on top of his big paw,
so on Tom's tail he began to gnaw!
Off he ran, as he began to weep.
Next time he won't disturb Spike's sleep!
~One key
Two keys
Three keys~
B R E A K my walls of passion as we turn doorknob number o n e,
young love started a romantic destiny meant for only you and I.
So many months turning into years of traveling and creating fun,
for the vows we swore released a lifelong commitment...
...we do sanctify.
“Sneak in quietly the babe's asleep…” as we turn doorknob number t w o,
our family has begun and life is hectic with the cooing and the crying.
Although it seems chaotic at times deep down we always knew,
this was the dream we always hoped for without hesitant denying.
“Welcome son! Please walk right in!” as we turn doorknob number t h r e e,
“oh get over here sweet Ella and tell me all about your school day!
I’m so delighted to catch up and laugh, and see your beautiful family,
there’s nothing like being grandparents, oh how I wish you could stay.”
So many keys are made to fit so many doors into our adoring futures,
from youth grown into a loving marriage, and now grandparents are we.
Our souls connected the first time we glanced; became sewn on sutures,
to think this life was born behind closed doors using three simple k e y s.
Date Written: July 15, 2016
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB-CDCD-EFEF-GHGH
Original Contest Entered: Three Keys Contest
Date Judged: July 20, 2016
For Contest: I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada- 2 - Poetry Contest
Sponsor, Broken Wings
I hurry to the ladies toilets
Because I need to use the loo
But all the cubicles are occupied
(There’s a stench of rancid pooh)
I stand there with my legs crossed
And I do a little ‘dance’
Oh hurry up and vacate the stall
Or I’m going to pee my pants!
I eventually hear a toilet flush
And I hobble through that door
But I need to wipe down the toilet seat
Removing drips from the butt before
I finally pull down my pants
And I dribble a tiny little pee
I’d thought my bladder was fit to burst
So there was no need for this urgency!
I can hear ladies chatter outside the door
Asking why is there such a big queue
My hubby tells me next time I need to go
I should sneak in the gentlemen’s loo!
3rd April 2017
It’s midnight and I’m alone downstairs
I hope she’s sleeping, I’ve said my prayers
Now I’m walking like I’m in a dream
Sneak in the kitchen for some ice cream
DON”T EVEN THINK IT
Back upstairs I hear her snore
So I slowly shut the bedroom door
Be very careful so she doesn’t wake
Sneak back downstairs to get some cake
DON’T EVEN THINK IT
Damn that woman can read my mind
Or I’ve got an alarm tied to my behind
I’m getting so hungry, I could cry
Just a couple of pieces of Pizza pie
DON’T EVEN THINK IT
Damn it woman I’m wasting away
Don’t know if I’ll make it through another day
I’m so weak I’m on my knees
I’ll save myself with some chips and cheese
DON’T EVEN THINK IT
What would happen if I’d get sick and die
Then you’d have to stay home and cry
Now, because I don’t want to see you blue
I’m going to eat those donuts just for you
DON’T EVEN THINK IT
Now a salad bowl would be just the right fit
Ice cream, whipped cream, banana split
Some chocolate, strawberry going to make my day
Then I heard a voice behind me say
DON’T EVEN THINK IT.
the w i n d o w
of my heart stays
ajar.
my permission
you don't need. sneak in!
yes, darling,
do so,
anytime;
enter
anyhow
you deem fit.
after all, my heart
is very much your home
it's...
your sanctuary
(yalto)
Writing Challenge - W words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Theme of choice: Window
Syllable count: 3,4,2,4,5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5.
Date written: 04/23/2023
As A Poet, The Importance Of Truth
I wrote all that sunny day and all night
About love, life, also humanity
Not every day was sunny and bright
Nor do I lie to appease my vanity
This wicked and deadly world eats its own
As midnight oozes into break of day
I try my best not to be hard as stone
And wake at dawn to fight the morbid gray
That seething darkness that tries to sneak in
And those sad little blues that fight to come
I face this dark world with truth and a grin
On occasion I drink Bacardi rum
I was a farm boy, my morals are fine
I reserve Sunday for church to attend
I walk straight, truth is my favorite line
Truth is, I never abandon my friends.
I wrote all that sunny day and all night
About love, life, also humanity
Not every day was sunny and bright
Nor do I lie to appease my vanity.
Robert J. Lindley, 20 VERSE SONNET
NOV 7TH, 1971
The compact disc now adds full sound.
Our mothers preach from all around.
Explicit lyrics and songs of sin.
We sneak in vodka, some rum and gin.
KISS, The Crue and Guns N Roses.
They play the gym, big hair now poses.
I see my sweet across the stage.
J Geils we dance, rage in the cage.
The smell of hairspray and old spice linger.
We dance real close, ballad of Winger.
The high school dance I sure do miss.
My first real buzz, my first real kiss.
Our parties raged on past the dawn.
The after party still parties on.
Our hidden drinks from all of the teachers.
Come dance with me, under the bleachers.
3-18-20 : "Kim Rodrigues' DWM Contest"
Can't write about Christmas or New Years Day, Written just for Paula's
Or Easter or Kwanzaa or any other Holiday. Contest :)
I've written too much about war, about love,
and depression and sex both deserve a shove.
I guess that I could just swallow my pride,
And sneak in a write about suicide'
But Paula don't want these kinds of idolitry,
She wants us to write a poem about poetry.
How do you write about what you never said,
Or the way that words rattle around in your head?
Or how hard those words are to make a pen fashion,
Or how when they're written they seem to lose passion?
O Poem, what can I write about you?
I think until my thinker turns blue,
I come to the end of a poem about poetry,
But it won't rhyme.
OH Dragon! OH Dragon! You flewn the coup! Where have, you gone?
He watched ‘Night at the Museum’. Was that actually, so very wrong?
King Tut Exhibit’s in town; He should be in bed, not going there next.
He’s on a crazy genealogy kick. Thinks he’s descended, from a T Rex!
My guess is, he’s part Doo Doo Bird, and a silly lizard of some kind!
The guard won’t be surprised to see him; it was just a matter of time.
He’s off to commune with dinosaur bones, brought to life. Good bet!
Off he snuck to our Museum, to be apart of it, after dark! He was set!
He’ll try to sneak in the delivery room, along with some of the freight.
He’ll try to hide in the dinosaur room, waiting for it to get, really late.
He’ll be disappointed, if no one comes alive, as he thought they should.
I hurried fast, as he can’t hide! Honestly! You know he can’t! For sure!
As I got there everyone yelled, ‘Surprise’! King Tuts’ crew, were alive!
Cavemen kept chasing Dragon, cause he had yummy meat on his hide.
King Tut wanted to ride Dragon, like he did into battle, in olden times.
I asked why it wasn’t in his hieroglyphics, he said, ‘Didn’t want to brag’.
Off they flew around the room both having a ball, that is until Dragons…
Flying prowess missed a turn, hitting the Easter Island Statue, head on.
It said ‘Dumb Dumb Dragon can’t fly’, and laughed all the night long.
King Tut and Grandpa Troll shared a brew, as if they were old friends.
Grandpa Troll was the first beer-brewing inventor! Who would of knew?
His recipe was always favored by good old King Tut, and his happy crew.
King Tut said, Grandpa Troll had, like wise, given him a Dragon egg, too.
To honor Grandpa Troll and Dragon, he’d have their bobble heads’ debut.
The Easter Island Statue found this funny and cool since he had one, too!
The night concluded, as all sang ‘Memories’, and ‘I Shall Survive’! Cool!
Remember, magic’s found in the air, at some of the least expected times.
And if you wish upon a star, for a Dragon egg. Pure Magic, you will find!
Carol Eastman
Day one without our lim'rick dad
It's cloudy and I feel quite sad
I sneak in his room
Try on his perfume
and call his harem to come to his pad
BIRTH came to me without my permission
possibly doomed to spend my life
no questions asked with strict submission
various sojourns from breast milk to sweets
then pubescent hair begins to sprout
I cannot figure my parents out
they call it a rebellion
of an immature child but I am immature
but what lay in store is wisdom
that comes with each winding year
to encounter a feeling or sensual dream
that one day will inhabit a new scene as it seems
To wed or elope and to cope with my life
to raise children in the midst of
love hate and joy as I recall
a generation ago
But as generations change it is time to renew
the changing colors of their state of mind
with a new world order they are left to imbue
to sneak in and out of chaos with a lollipop
to indoctrinate them into societys fold
and the vicious cycle goes on and on
continually with each aching breath
until you say hello to DEATH
September 7, 2014 ©Ralph Sergi
Oh how unlucky can a boy be
Not to have one sister but three
I was always the one who got the blame
And had to hang my head in shame
For everything
They could do no wrong
And how they'd tease me all day long
They made Cinderella's ugly sisters look pretty
Always wanted a brother myself
But never had one what a pity.
It was never a happy house
They ruled the roost and I was as timid as a mouse
One day one of my sisters got sent home from school
For wearing no knickers must have been against the rules
The knickers had a pocket in front and were navy blue
But what the pocket was for I never knew.
Sometimes. I'd sneak in their bedrooms
And look in all their draws
There were some white long things with strings
I'd never come across before
I thought they were sticks of dynamite and lit them
Through them out of the window
And took shelter on the floor.
How they loved their pop music and would play the same record
Over and over again and have posters on their bedroom walls
And read teenage magazines with pretty girls in
I looked through them all
And then their spiteful friends would call
It's then I realised girls were different from boys
They played different games and had different toys.
They used to lock me in the wardrobe and go away
And I remember screaming and crying my eyes out all day
We had a pet tortoise I think was called Fred
They buried it in the garden thinking it was dead
When the poor thing must have been in hibernation.
When my sisters grew out of their clothes
They were passed on to me
You can imagine how embarrassed this could be
For a tender boy like me
Ribbons and bows were not my style
And at school I stuck out like a sore thumb by a mile.
Sisters were like blisters they made you sore
Don't have anything to do with my sisters no more.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015.June.
Between the sheets she melts in his adoring touch,
infatuation brought forth by strong passion as such.
Above the realm of intuition they sneak in the bed,
so much is tenderly spoken with lustful words unsaid.
From attraction to romance they fell in obsession so deep,
for it was so intense they never made the time to sleep.
Beyond adoration they knew desire called their names,
and into each other’s delight their mania couldn’t be tamed.
Free from distraction the crush turned into fascination,
quickly they became one without pause or procrastination.
Eyes gaped in magnetism with two souls thirsty for water,
for if it was nothing but enticement he ever taught her.
The world became small and their room became home,
this time was for real, neither would ever be alone.
Allurement from her eyes called his lips to gently kiss,
for gravity has pulled two lovers away from amiss.
Temptation was created from the brush of her hair,
and since then the inducement started a frenzy flare.
Charisma and charm taught them love in the making,
no matter the circumstance for each other they were aching.
Time spent together brought them to the alter for vows,
and eternity rests in the hands of the Lord who allows.
True intimacy is born from the heart of pure attraction,
from them a baby was birthed from two lover’s interaction.
Date Written: July 11, 2016
I'm ready for my soup, please tell me Mama
What's you're gonna add to make it good
I hope you put in just a pinch, of rhyme
And a half of cup of wit, if you would
You know I like to watch it as it bubbles
But I think, you should cook it really slow
"Cause when it burns, on the very bottom
I have to shut my eyes and hold my nose
I know that you know, that I'm hungry
and making tasty soup will take some time
So, please let me stir it very slowly
While I sneak in, just another pinch of rhyme