Best Snorting Poems
Where Have All The Pretty Poets Gone?
A real poet are you, charismatic over everything you serve
Showcasing, a rainbow that folds the perfect worldwide perspective
I'm talking about flawless literature at its best no typos, no muss
Just a page full of boredom and rust
Thank you for having Lunesta all up in my head
It's like reading a poetry lesson, from the extras of The Walking Dead
An image frozen cold, waiting for inspiration to hit like Al Capone
I'm bored of your flora flamboyant language rocking me like stones
A psychedelic trip, into the odyssey of a blind man's tale
A home where I am pushed to open a dictionary & thesaurus with Braille
Wondering what you just said, --Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful day!
The best rocket pen poet in the USA Today,
Launching words like no tomorrow, a fool of wordplay and sorrow
A godlike guinea-pig genius, delegating poetry politician-style
Perhaps, one day you will become a famous writer
Burning books, like a cigarette lighter
Until then, enjoy pushing your pen as if it were cocaine,
Snorting up and cutting up the food chain in vain
Patronizing and ignoring those, for better or worse
A solo cup stuck up another cup, -won't even look my way
Correct me if you will, it's no big deal
Just don't forget to give me the same respect I offer you
Until then my pretty poetic friend, I kneel before no one
By: ME
5-25-14
You sit there in your castle all alone
Surrounded by the trinkets of the past
Sometimes a King is shackled to his throne
Sadly the days of glory did not last
You feel the heart of a warrior beat
Surrounded by the trinkets of the past
It seemed the world had been laid at your feet
Now it is your men that go to battle
You feel the heart of a warrior beat
You long once again to feel the saddle
The coursing of blood going through your veins
Now it is your men that go to battle
You are King so they say you hold the reins
You long for the adventure and the speed
The coursing of blood going through your veins
The sound of snorting from your mighty steed
You long for the adventure and the speed
You sit there in your castle all alone
Sometimes a King is shackled to his throne
The sun dulled to a shade of green,
A creature hanging there I hadn't seen
Wings of webs and sparkling coloured hues
Seeming to be smiling at me, head tilted
A mystical creature there only I could see
The sun eclipsed; the darkness brings
a creature hanging with webbed wings,
seeming to smile at me, with fiery breath.
A mystical beast, a Dragon I could see.
It was not a span ago I remember,
they needed and had asked of me.
To think of their form so bold,
to give them the life they knew of old.
The mighty dragon hanging so near,
brushing away clouds of innate fear.
Pulsing wing beats shattered the glade,
yet held me safely in his mystical shade.
A voice of an Angel touched my ear.
"Thank you, for seeing my presence clear.”
“My Dragon's form in infinite perfection,
asking of me a new conception”.
"Do tell me of this Earth so changed,
now no castles and dungeons dwell.
Where I did roam for many years,
there maidens fled in horrifying tears.”
“Oh mighty creature, It is sad to say
those things don't exist today.”
”It has been a long, long, time for you
just wait I'll see what I can do?”
I sat thinking for an unusual time,
but could only think of fable and rhyme.
It did come to me in the end,
where a Dragon could happily blend.
Disney was looking for something new
Harry potter was in a right stew.
”Can you fly when asked my dragon of fire”?
Snorting smoke, he flew higher and higher.
I told him of films and fun so grand,
of castles Built in another land.
"Hold on!" I said as I found a strand.
"Can you fly to New Zealand?"
A nod from him and a smile so wide,
on his back I flew on, an incredible ride.
To star in The Hobbit was my dream too,
my dragon and me headed for pastures new.
A cloud of steam emitted from the stream
the mighty Dragon was just a dream.
At the bottom of the hill dust settled around,
I felt such a fool, as I hit the ground.
The Abominable Snowman and The Yeti
Geezus ! what was that !
I saw something outside my cave
And there the footprints leading away
Across the white waste lands of snow
They look kinda big
For it to be me walking in my dreams
And why would I be out anyway
Its so flippin’ cold
Was that the wind I heard moan
Sounded eerie
Kinda creepy
Geezus Christ maybe I am not alone !
Crunching, crunching soft and quiet
I can hear something stealthy
Its coming close
Sniffing and snorting
Maybe it found my pee in the snow
Oh god no !
Quiet ! Shhhhhh I didn’t mean to say Quiet ! quite so loudly
Quiet…………
Maybe it will go away
And I’ll live to see another day
But what’s that !
Has it found my home
I thought this entire mountain was my own
Its coming in !
Oh my God it looks like me
All white and fur and burly
It seems a little cautious though
Hello…. What does it mean Hello !
Hello dinner ! ? I have to wonder
But it has found me
What ever it maybe
Then it said “Hello I am a Yeti”
Yeti…? I think my father told me about Yeti
Strange creatures and oh so solitary
It said quite softly and kinda sweetly
“May I come in if I can?
Its kinda cold out there in the snow all alone”
Now I see it
Its not quite as big as I thought it was
Kinda cute and white a furry
Hmmmm… looks kinda sexy really
So I reached out my hand and said “come on in”
Introduced myself
“Hi, I’m the Abominable Snowman”
She said with a sigh “yes I know”
………. ? ¿ ? ¿
To Nome! To Nome!
The mushers are far from home.
Winding ribbon of snow,
Iditarod Trail is hard to tow,
Blowing wind smacking faces,
As they pick up their paces,
Vying for their pot-of-gold.
To Nome! To Nome!
The mushers are far from home.
Full moon at night,
Dogs' and racers' silhouettes in sight,
A picture of friendship is shown by light,
Determination and tired feet,
All dream of resting on a soft seat.
To Nome! To Nome!
The mushers are far from home.
As early daylight appears,
Sunlight peeks and gives a smile,
To the teams who have rested awhile,
Knowing they are ready,
Hitting the trail fast and steady.
To Nome! To Nome!
The mushers are far from home.
Dogs pick up the scent
Of moose who will not relent,
Stubborn and snorting and ready to charge
The barking visitors at large,
Annoyed and angry at the barge.
To Nome! To Nome!
The mushers are far from home.
Moose behind them and many miles,
The teams look ahead and see
The deep snow piles,
Feeling hearty and hale,
Bounding over hill and dale.
To Nome! To Nome!
The mushers are far from home.
Quiet is gone and replaced by shouts,
Of well wishers who have no doubts,
Watching the jubilant winner pass
Under Nome's burled arch in glory,
Making a March headline story.
Bugger
17th July 2015
Last night my missus gave me some oysters for tea
Was I in for a night of rip snorting whoopee?
I showered and shaved trying to smell like a stud
Her half dozen oysters must have all of been duds.
Things were desperate so I engaged in foreplay
What old men do when they want a roll in the hay
I groveled I pleaded, even whined like a dog
But for all of my efforts all I got was a snog.
So should she ever give me a little blue pill
I now know it sure won’t be for an evening of thrill.
Her response
So you’re disappointed
That all you got was just a snog
How about make an effort
Stop smelling like grog
I don’t care for begging,
And sexual wee stirrings
Have a shave and a shower,
That'll start me concurring.
Now take your hand off my breast,
Just help me cook the kids tea
Grab the vacuum, do the house,
That’ll be enough foreplay for me
Hang out the washing,
Then feed the pets.
Do homework with the kids
Please now go make the beds,
Scrub all the pots,
Make sure you do the lids
Thank you my dear,
Your help was just great,
It's nice just not to nag
What! What do you mean?
You’re too tired for a shag?
28th September
Silent One's Competition
In response to my first poem
Summer has so many sounds,
And all of them unique;
From the leaves rustling in the trees,
To the slow babble of the creek;
And all of the birds have their own voice,
To lend to it’s harmony;
The grass blowing in the wind,
And the buzzing of the bees;
The soft chirping of new hatched chicks,
And the bark of a happy dog;
The horses snorting in the fields,
The croak of an old bullfrog;
The soft pulling of the grass,
As a cow takes a big bite;
The clashing of a pair of bulls,
Wrestling in mock fight;
The different sounds of summer,
Makes a beautiful melody;
Everything from the gulls on the beach,
To the crash of the waves in the sea;
To some people it may sound like noise,
But to me it is a never ending song;
An amazing melodic tune,
That plays constantly all day long.
Ah, ‘Love’! a lover’s repeated mantra!
I see me mutter it, just now, very now.
Sigh I high, a busy, burning furnace,
scrolling lines with aching, grieving woes;
she, a charmed worm, wriggles, snorts,
while floating on a fluffy, velvety cloud.
Is this repeated mantra pricier like a jewel:
a sapphire, a diamond, pregnant with
quintuplets? I know she never touched,
- she grieves! - a sapphire or a diamond.
Even necklaces howl at her golden neck —
It’s only a dream: a fluffy, airy dream,
A snorting, never wakening, dream.
When I say, “Love”, LUST - in me
SMILES: luscious, vicious, LUST —
that stays like a cat-snake, light-red,
cool inside “Love”, coiled - hiding —
its head in mid of his slithering body,
and approaches its prey - the victim
of love – STRAIGHT! - straight at night.
Jealousy, the quintuplet brother of Lust,
chuckles on hearing my mantra, "Love",
“There exists a hairy thinness between
Love and Me. We’re quintuplets”.
On my face, jealousy reads sky-rising
Flames in Troy and in an ivory pearl,
And I see Theseus puffing a mount
of flames at Hippolytus
and Love drowning in rising flames —
and other two quintuplet brothers moving,
blindfolded, round and round the dazzling pyre.
*A 3rd Place* in the following contest (Judged on Jan. 5, 2021)
Jan. 4, 2020 (originally posted on Dec. 2, 2020)
Your best free verse 2020 Poetry Contest
Contest sponsor: John Hamilton
* A 2nd Place* in the following contest (judged on Dec. 10, 2020)
Dec. 2, 2020
Catharsis Poetry Poetry Contest
Contest sponsor: Silent One
Inspiration from my own poem, “Jealousy” (published in 2018)
Let me tell you a story of my night journey;
After a hazardous trip from a far off state
With drooping spirits and waning energy
I alighted at the station to catch the night train
My heart besieged by memories of my home, left behind
Like a drop in the ocean
I quickly merged with the buzzing crowd
In the blinking light of platform lamps
I saw a huge crowd- the young and the old
With baggage heaped on baggage, patiently on wait
Time slouched on at snail’s pace….
At last hearing a long drawn whistle from far
I looked out and saw the train coming, snorting noisily
And halting with a screeching sound
The real ordeal begins as one lifts his suitcase
And pushes his way along with all strength,
Between bags and boxes and people,
And the porters running after you to carry the cargo
Finally I got into the train and occupied my seat among strangers
My mind plagued with fears of thieves and molesters
It was my first journey alone at night
I don’t know when I fell into a deep slumber
It was with the sound of * ‘chai…chai’ that I woke up
The inviting aroma of brewed tea entered my nostrils
At last I have reached my native soil!
I am heading home, every step and every inch
Drawing me closer and closer to my sweet haven
My heart began to pump quicker
I felt like a marooned mariner
Suddenly cast ashore by a rescue boat!
__________________________________
*‘Chai’is a local term in our language for tea !
April. 19. 2022
Form N- Narrative New Poetryy Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
Topic- Journey
The coats are falling all over each other
We have tried to separate them
But they like being close and chummy
Pickpocketing each other's pockets
Rubbing their collars upside
Each other's necks
Sniffing and snorting
Grunting sometimes
This is when it is not easy
to be a coat check girl
*** NOMAD ***
(For Ian and Bryan)
The gifts just out of reach…Always?
Scoping the search?
With the contentments
Of peace to be found,
Buried like treasure…And
Hunted?
Beloved nomad
Seeking place
Among the ridges
Of the lost caves your eagles
Scan horizons
To discover, while watching
constantly over you —
Traveling with your long stretch
Of discontented camels,
Snorting and spitting,
Their loads grown heavier than
The darkness near descending;
Their eyes forever looking
Over the empty distances —
Perhaps as feared
As Earth’s edges —
For any, any possible oasis
Appealing to you with
Some hope of settling.
So do
Stop periodically,
To recall all you love. And
Bend, to measure sought ends,
Letting run
Handfuls of unfamiliar sand
Between your fingers — not
Worrying over spent years
Yet to come —
As you watch the grains of sand
Drizzling down, falling
To a familiar dune
To continue their endless rest.
Nomad, continuing the search
For that similar someplace
Of origin, for re-starting on
The pathways to the where-
Evers far from any ends…or
Before finding then truly
What was held all the while.
Consider that the sought ends
Could assuringly be meant
To wait for the journey’s close,
With much to be said for
Actually moving through reality
While the mind, too, may wish
To avoid doubts or deliberations
In stillnes —
Most happy to feel new breezes
Touch past; or to hear unfamiliar
Voices sing out greetings; and
For incongruities to shake
The soul closer to God.
The journey’s progress (surely
With some luck in the going,
Or help from a greater
Force if while staying)
Does occur in the there
Or the here, hopefully to be
Concluded in a spot for
Body and mind, which
Your eagle has eyed
In many fewer than forty years…
For you are loved, your way blessed.
————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 2/25/22
Thanks be to God
Sixty thousand pounds
One hundred sixty horses
Snorting like leviathan
On uncharted courses
Eleven feet of width
Thirty-two of reach
Tank-like tracks that crush the rock
With a metallic screech
Carving up the hillside
With the greatest ease
Playing toss with boulders
Plucking up huge trees
A tree that falls is heard
Some even make a sigh
A sound that makes me wince
I will not tell a lie
Progress can be brutal
On nature, we intrude
We like to make an entrance
Loud and brash and rude
I tell myself the openings
Make room for trees to grow
Or so I justify;
I’m pretty good, you know
Deftly flicking boulders
Smoothing out the dirt
Yard by yard he moves along
Master craft at work
It’s not for the timid
Or the faint of heart
Carving trails on mountainsides
Truly is an art
We’ve started every morning
Briefly, with a prayer
For Shawn and for his safety
And for God’s presence there
Hard to juxtapose
Stewardship, dominion:
The beauty there down in the vale,
Diesel-powered pinions
In time, the forest will forget
And cover up our scars
For now, I walk His wooded trail
At night, beneath His stars.
3/25/19
"One More Thing"
This morning
Clouds forming
Soon to be storming
Most ignoring
The warning
Continually warring
Waters forking
Rapids roaring
Avians soaring
As events continue coursing
Heard enough recordings
That were reporting
About global warming
Whether it's sunny or pouring
Cold or scorching
Dogs and cats arrive for boarding
In a building with tile flooring
Bottles uncorking
This life isn't boring
It's rewarding
This world, we're still exploring
Organisms morphing
Meanwhile plants absorbing
The sunlight, that's supporting
All life, according
To people and other sourcing's
Barely affording
Folks snoring
Out of the loop, close and far from any cording
Drugs and people used for transporting
Still gorging
Battling addictions regarding snorting
Far too many hoarding
And overstoring
Thinking they're scoring
Any bull, I'm thwarting
The honest and hard working, I'm supporting
You better stop lording
Before the public starts swarming
About to leave this world, after one more thing
The grizzly bear came at me, snorting and screeching.
Until this second, I did not know that they screeched.
I knew to run was not the way. I had been warned.
They love to chase their prey before they eat it.
Play dead! A voice in my head said.
What? Are you crazy? I looked at the trees.
None of them had low branches, so I picked up an umbrella.
It was the only long thing I had at this stupid campfire.
I did not have time to unthread a tent pole did I?
The grizzly was as angry as any beast I had ever seen.
Her mouth was full of teeth, and her paws were bigger than my head.
I knew I was going to be a goner if I enraged her even more.
So I handed her the umbrella. She was shocked.
You could see confusion in her eyes. She smacked me over and over.
Killing me in a thorough way, because I died of a heart attack.
My soul watched her devour my carcass from the safety of the tree line.
Im going to tell you a story about a girl.
She was smart, and ready to take on the world.
Had a hard childhood with her mother always ill,
but her father worked hard and struggled to pay the bills.
My name is Pam and the poem your about to read,
Is a interesting poem, all about me.
I started to feel depression and pain,
at the age of 15 I was snorting cocaine.
I got pregnant at a young age and wanted to explore,
So I walked right out of my families door.
Time went on and I was still not around,
My mom grew sicker and dad wearing a frown.
Not much longer until I experienced this change,
and tragic horrible hurt and feeling of pain.
I walked in that room ,and climbed in the bed
I layed down beside him, and layed down my head.
With my hear I could hear his heartbeat.
The next thing I new we were burying him six feet deep.
At the funeral they said she was in a better place,
but it just wasnt fair to see that look on her face.
My mom that is she died with my dad,
She may have been breathing but always so sad
Two years later she decided to give up,
her faith was gone and hope for luck up.
Thats when I really started to struggle,
barely getting by and forgetting that i was mother.
She seen me drift into a dark place,
I started loosing weight in my stomach and my face.
Before I new it I was always getting high,
Weeks became months, and time flew right by
Its to bad that I chose this new path I was on ,
Because on August 11Th I got a call saying my mother was gone.
Like a replay I walked into that room,
to see her lying there as stiff as a broom.
I layed down beside her and rubbed my fingers
through her hair , but the pain I was feeling I just couldn't bare.
You would think after loosing my mom and my dad,
Anything else wouldnt seem near as bad
Within four years I had nothing left,
My child was taken for my foolish regrets.
Just me and my addiction no more tears to cry,
so many different ways that I could get high.
I would like to introduce this powerful drug,
It bring nothing but bad when I was searching for love.
The name is crystal, Crystal Meth
The one thing in the world, I wish I had never met...