Best Snickering Poems
Four legs quiver
like clumsy cabrioles
striking smooth gray rivers
of zig-zag sidewalk barrios
in rhythm with happy shivers
syncopated on a muffled drum
as we talk and stroll
On our way
hand-in-hand
we persuade and pretend
this day away
taunting and cajoling to demand
laughing “hide and seeking”
chasing and skedaddling
poking and peeking
like cuddly pandas
or canoodling otters
splashing and clambering
We roll and meander
impetuously twiddling all the way
atop gregarious green promenades
we pause in slight delay
as we prattle and prance
as we dance to the Crickets singing
nodding to their fiddling
frolicking with all the jiggling
Serendipitous stalks
of snickering flowers pop
to dazzle and razzle our wits
we glide in stripes of candy bits
of rainbows bright
Purple painted paisley
fragrantly flairs in pairs
of scented lavender sweetness
among black-eyed daisies
dusting the woozy air
in a meadow’s billowing bloom
sunflowers sunbathe in costume
We giddily tarry
as we carry
a feast of fancies and treats
artsy bits of charmed delicacies
filled with a peck of upcoming kisses
enticing fantasies that wink
Snuggling shenanigans lead us astray
as we find our rootie-tootie hideaway
hugs as we shy away
from tomfoolery jesting
to lay down and swoon
looking up at the soon to be stars
lingering for the coming of the moon
Murmurs of Starlings
gaggle their harmonies
of chirps
in cheeks and broadened beaks
thrumming tiny melodies.
Swallows sweep and woo
fixated on this unabashed swain
through songbird strains
announcing a shrilling review
broadening in sweet refrains
“I love you…I love you”
Fingerpainting the Monet sky
puffy white cotton words appear
from clouds passing by
while tiny violins spin in the air
piccolos peep
pigeon-toed Doves coo and weep
their contentedness to appease
trailing off the pleasant breeze
I fall upon my knees
My words explode to strew
like a thousand storms set free
“I love you…I love you…I love you”
Categories:
snickering, i love you, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Baby brother, your naughty smile entices
A chuckle ringing through the night,
While those eyes blue wink like stars
That I'm pretty sure , we are alike...
If Aunt Nora pinches those rosy cheeks
Yes, I'd whack her leg, she'll never know-
For now, you're saying, let's peek-a- boo
As moon face jiggles up and down,
Till Mama yelps, 'No, our babe might toot gas!'
And peachy feet, they would outgrow mine,
Then we’ll ride on airy coastlines
Sharing guy secrets and watching the girls--
Maybe, hug one or two in Dad's bike
That's what your laughter implies...
O you giggle, mouth without teeth yet;
Not to worry, I am sneaking yummy jello...
Eat that quick! It's all over your bald head
We'll make it look like soap bubbles--
As the hero, I'll tell our parents, the milk
Flushed through the crib...You agree, snickering,
Naughty brother, we have more pranks to go!
Baby Face What's You THINKIN Contest
Sponsor: James Edward Lee Sr.
Visual C 1/19/2019
Categories:
snickering, brother, child, fun,
Form:
Light Verse
“It’s not what they say when you are there, it’s what they whisper after you leave.” ~~ Actor - Errol Flynn ~~
Whispers as you hurriedly pass them by.
Whispers that can really make you cry.
Those whispers filled my head with doubt.
I didn’t realize what being poor was all about.
Whispers about the clothes that I wore.
Whispers as if it was a crime to be poor.
Rumors were rife in the school yard.
Those whispers really did make life hard.
Invited to parties, I didn’t want to go.
All snickering. Did they think I didn’t know?
I know bringing a gift of a potted plant wasn’t right.
Their whispers didn’t even wait till I was out of sight.
Whispers continued when I was a teen.
The rumors got worse the whispers were mean.
Slowly but surely, I overcame their sneers.
Learning to be proud of who I am over the years.
I met a man who loved me for who I am, I knew.
And how good it felt when he whispered, I love you.
Categories:
snickering, love,
Form:
Couplet
In dizzy terrors, the ominous, relentless pull
of the numb night; sneers, shortcuts
clumsily trod; meandering the easy paths
where sins and lies are perfected and
nourished into pseudo truths that are
delightfully embraced. A credible potpourri
of slippery stones in a quagmire of guilt.
A quicksand of snickering gravity where
nothing escapes except the last one who cared.
Suffocating in our insignificance, too late for
sincere tears, too late to reach for
no one.
Categories:
snickering, depression,
Form:
Free verse
Laughter soothes the soul
Giggling makes my day,
Chortles will improve
My mood, so they say,
Smiles are so groovy!
Silliness beams
Grin big, my friends
Chuckling at memes
Snickering trends
Guffawing
Gleefully
Mimicking
Joking
Funny
MIRTH
THIRD PLACE WINNER
written June 7, 2022
submitted to "Diminished Hexaverse - Your Choice" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
snickering, fun, humorous, smile,
Form:
Diminished Hexaverse
Sorrow
My sorrow can swim my sorrow can fly
I’ve tried to put it to bed but my sorrow wont lye
It’s not only well hidden behind a smiling man’s eyes
It has so many places in which it resides
It’s in the flowering fields with a hundred wild horses
Soon to be given the whip and made to tread courses
It’s in the clouded young mind of an innocent youth
Hoping the prescription pills will help find inner peace and truth
It’s in the proud glaring eyes of a father watching his young children play
Wishing the moment would last forever instead of the one scheduled day
It’s in the words of a Doctor giving an expecting mother bad news
It’s in the prick of a needle by the people that use
It’s in the loud boisterous laugh of a whiskey fuelled voice
As he tries to drown sorrow with his poison of choice
It’s in the tears of a family when a loved one has passed
It’s in that Mystical River into which sorrow is cast
It’s etched deep in the hands of a working class man
Providing for his beloved family the best way he can
It’s in the heart of a coloured man ridiculed for his race
Pretty soon you’ll find sorrow written on the racist man’s face
It’s in the royal children’s hospital waiting room chair
It’s not hard to find sorrow sitting in there
It’s in the steps of an overweight ladies journey she embarks
Sick of the snickering and sneering and constant remarks
It’s in the 2 x 2 cell getting taught life’s harshest lessons
It’s in the homeless man’s trolley with all his worldly possessions
It’s with the millions of people fighting a battle inside
When you go looking for sorrow it’s not that hard to find
So when sorrow comes calling be sure to answer your phone
And acknowledge that it’s too big a beast to try and tackle alone
Endure the best way you can all of life’s undulations
Knowing that sorrows a train that will stop at all stations.
Categories:
snickering, analogy, culture, depression, grief,
Form:
Here, as the dark city glistens
Here, as the dark city glistens,
rain pelts unsuspecting sidewalks,
filling cracks and running gutters
Disguising stoic potholes in black,
snickering as they wait silently
to startle the next drowsy driver to pass by
Neon reflects in puddles of discontent
while high rise lights
flicker in kitchens above where
cold water seems to be the answer
as groggy eyes fiddle with leftover decisions
making more noise than can be heard
3 am, desolate, just a few cats
rummage in alleys for unsuspecting rats
and other rodents who have sold their dreams
for a temporary high, plastic bag desires
that come morning will seek its revenge
and hands will be out promising redemption,
counting brown leather wing tips and Prada heels
I stop at the old library slated for demolition,
tracing the lopsided heart with our initials
I carved into the brick
as you kept a look out so we wouldn’t get caught
Laughing at the dust that gathered on my shoes,
Telling me it would be forever
not the dust, us, we weren’t
Lonely is a state of mind
for those who wander these concrete caverns,
unable to sleep
Finding opened eyed nightmares
resemble those that they now run from,
hoping the next corner holds the key
to the past when nights were spent
under warm covers, in soft arms,
not walking alone, not dying, not
here, as the dark city glistens
Categories:
snickering, loneliness, sad,
Form:
Free verse
February Feints
February creeps across the mud
chuckling
knowing it is not her milieu
snickering
as she tats snowflakes
whistling
as she scatters them
icily
on freshly chilled winds.
©2/19/2018
submitted to – STANDARD CONTEST NO 70
sponsor – Brian Strand
Categories:
snickering, february,
Form:
Free verse
Joy dances in even to the bereft
She cracks my frown with a tango
Then she leaves my house swept
Joy is a hummingbird trapped indoors
Her iridescence lights up all my grime
Usher her out before I’m enamored
But, happiness is like fish overstayed
His cloying perfume overpowered
He is a rhino to her phoenix raised
Sometimes joy is an elephant
Hiding under a tablecloth snickering
She exits invisibly like an ant
Sometimes she’s Mary Poppins waltzing
Scrubbing a spot that I cannot dirty
Sprinkling a spoon full of sugar on salt
A lifetime of joy waltzing in wears me out
Then happiness retires to a piece of furniture
I’ll give her a ticket to dance and not pout
Someday when I am old and feeble
Too tired of laying ashes down
I’ll let joy lift my frown with needles
I’ll let her cat sit on my lap untamed
When I’m too demented to sully joy
I’ll let joy feast upon my remains
Till then I’ll leave the door ajar
** Luke 12:36
"Be like men who are waiting for their master when he returns from the wedding feast, so that they may immediately open the door to him when he comes and knocks."
Categories:
snickering, dance, death, extended metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Panagiota and The Autopsy
An autopsy, I found, educational to the max!
Those sacred, holy,human body parts, being
removed part by part.
Weighed on a scale, as if in a large supermart?
Really, truly, after all our human snickering and
politicking?
Is this who we are, simply meat on a cold slab?
And tell me, please, who is going to pay the tab?
Where will my Muse be when I lie naked on a table?
I can't scream "help" as the knife slices me from
neck to navel.
No trophies in this inglorious space and no POTD either.
No, poet friends, not in this inglorious stable.
There is no talk here of skin color nor of crucial racial matters.
For on that table,insides of all humans are of the same color,
Simply at peace,lying in tatters, I shout, all all lives matter!!
It's surprising, I withstood all this, being a young student
nurse and all.
It was September in Evanston, at Saint Francis Hopital
I shall never forget, that colorful, most memorable fall.
I never became a nurse,instead, fell deeply in love, truly,
a far more romantic deal!
We moved to San Francisco, where hills, deep love and
with poetry, my heart forever, he did eternally steal!
And the Pacific Ocean transforming from shades of deep
blues to the most enchanting teals!
July 5, 2023
Categories:
snickering, education, imagery, memory, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
`
Slandered wavelengths
from an old worn out speaker
cracking with each unbalanced bass note
Finding my brain on overload
and a slower heart beat
out of tune
Static becomes the union,
tuning dial gone, volume at high
glowing in the corner of cobweb melodies
lingering on a distant shelf
now sinking lower in this
roadside armchair (Where are the earplugs when you need them)
An empty bottled fortress
protects the pain at my feet,
brown glass soldiers stand guard,
bottle cap mementos flip
like dancing beans on a folding table
at El Mercado
One more for the road
(like I need this)
along crooked dotted lines, weaving nonsense
two at a time, smirking
snickering like children hiding from a babysitter,
mimicking the way
Still the static, white noise,
drowns out the joy and the trees cry,
when birdsong of night haunts with a sound
interrupting the dance of the
beer bottle chorus line
and I tap a painful toe
Categories:
snickering, art,
Form:
Free verse
Two hands in folds of shoddy cotton,
in clouds of cheap champagne and cigarette smoke.
My ringing ears
Echoing the television murmurs,
but it’s the same news on a broken record,
broken record horrors.
Now the clock— It’s snickering, a thief, consuming time and stealing
the 217 kisses, the 32 chocolate milkshakes shared
in his old Porsche,
the 3 ice creams in December and the 12 shivers that followed,
the 56 morning coffees,
the 12 months of moon cycles—
I counted them one by one, refusing to let time
pass
him
by.
I remember with him
the 314 soft embraces, the 17 drops of brandy
that dripped down our chins, the 39 words
yelled then regretted, the 3 meteor showers
he slept through.
Waiting room. I try to peel the hospital scent from his skin,
but it’s a lonely phantom refusing to depart.
The summer cologne lingers its dollar’s worth on his scalp,
quickly fading, masked by Lysol, white walls, sickness.
Feverish. He closes his eyes, heart monitor beeping to a constant,
the peaks on a swift descent.
Because as time chews away
the 3 teeth bumps, the 14 letters,
19 skin tracings, 2 chalk outlines,
the 3-syllable, 8-letter words,
and the 100 times
I confirmed reality
(as he cried, in vain,
for release),
I’m forgetting already
the smell of his hair, the precise pores
and number of freckles on his cheeks.
Now. I turn car key, start engine, breathe broken- record breaths.
I’ll pretend it’s all a formula I’m confirming,
because Fate never meant us to be.
I am discovering truths:
we’re just awkward children in this adult world,
aware of waning time, unprepared, longing for youth.
His Gods have plugged us both in like variables,
and we’re no longer oblivious to the outcome,
because I’ll wrestle with Love, plead with Death,
beg and bargain with Time,
and still,
I’ll drive on.
Categories:
snickering, lovelonging, time,
Form:
Free verse
The Faeries Are Still Outside
Trying to cheer a garden up from the clay,
But the crabgrass won’t part
And the trees are snickering
At the art-
Less way the faeries
Sway while chanting,
Casting their spells—
Such an untalented group!
Out of tune, with
Too often the lyric,
“wha’ ta’ we all do?”
Stuck in a measureless breath
And beyond any rhyming lure to
The sprouts for any wanting to grow!
Wise, the trees lean, whining,
Slow whispers that, “
The faeries should go!
Back to their wizards
For more lessons in garden growth. “
The aged trees are exasperated; after all,
There’s little more to it
Than spreading the
Spell of encouragement, because
The sun and earth are already there prepared
For the growing…
So the trees advise,
“Raise ye’ stems around us trees.
We’ll keep the winds
From blowin’ ye’ over!
And keep the sun from
Parching your leaves.
We’ll sing lullabies to the herbs,
“Hush a-bye lurra lu,
Rest now your intake of green.
Be doodle-ye-do get ye’ ready
For droplets of dew
Diddle-eye-done
Dew comes after your dreams
Along with the rise up of the sun.”
Then the trees applauded
Among themselves, promising
That as soon as
The garden grew a bit,
The trees would tell all those little plants
Just how Spirit
Lives inside their stems, their flowers and leaves,
Where the spells of the faeries cannot reside…but,
“Deed le-dee see la so sigh.” Fine,
Let the spells be sung.
“‘Tis a task the faeries prize,” and who knows if it won’t
Help the clay to crack,
“Fiddle diddle perhaps a fact!”
——————————————-
(C) sally young Eslinger 9/30/21
Thanks be to God
Categories:
snickering, fantasy, fun, garden, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
I heard them talking in low voices.
“I will watch her today,” one hissed.
“It is my turn,” argued the other one, in an even lower tone.
I scrunched my eyes tightly, pretending to remain asleep.
“Shh! She’s awake!” a loud whisper.
“How do you know?”
“Look at her.”
I scrunched my eyes a bit tighter, but tried to relax my forehead.
Fooling neither. Silence came.
So I sat up and began blinking around the room.
The dog was snoring loudly.
Both the clock radio and Alexa were silent.
Had I dreamed these voices?
I felt a small petite whinny.
A psychic clue.
But what horse is in here?
My eyes traveled over the top of the dresser.
There are fireflies, butterflies, raccoons, and angels represented.
But horse? No.
Snicker. A small psychic one.
Two horses. I glance sharply to my right,
and look into the face of a purple unicorn I have painted.
Suddenly knowing, my face throws herself to the left.
Where the pink polka dot unicorn is silently snickering.
It helps to have a sixth sense sometimes.
I call neither out,
glad for their protection.
Categories:
snickering, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Can you hear the absence of bickering,
the snickering, snide remarks and animosity?
The pomposity of inflated egos in blogs
that just shouldn't be taking place.
A blog without the chance for someone's
feelings to be trampled and hurt~
Just once~ humor me for creating such a blog.
Categories:
snickering, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse