Best Spice Up Poems
In this day and age, when happy seems vacant
Where people’s hopes appear forever distant,
It’s the little things that see you through the day
Often it seems, in the most trivial way.
A simple smile might spice up your day
Maybe an ‘hello’, said in a friendly way
Or a driver, who lets you pull out in front,
Or the boss who’s ill, you would normally confront.
To stumble across a coin, when you’re stony broke,
Bump into an old friend, when it’s years since you spoke,
Receive some flowers, right out of the blue
Or complete the crossword you thought you could never do.
Wake up with the thought - ‘it must be Monday’,
Only to then realise, actually it’s Sunday,
Or a kiss from a loved one, with an ‘I love you’
There’s no greater act that anyone can do!
It’s the little things that can give you hope
A gentle ‘pick me up’ when it’s hard to cope.
Whatever it is, that brightens your day
We must conclude- ‘it’s surely god's way!!’
P D, Paula and Phyllis: each have "P" in their name.
O' s , though, I see none of! Now isn't that a shame?
Emilia, sweetie, gets third spot for her "E."
T im, Thvia, Tirzah, & Timothy (where the heck IS he?)
R ueben, Ravindra, Rhonda, Robert. . . R has a LOT!
Y OU who are reading this, I give you THIS spot!
S ara, two Sharons, great "S" ladies those!
O odles of names, but where are the O's?
U again. Yes, double mention to U !!
P remium poets sure spice up the SOUP.
Originally For Adeleke's Acrostic Contest: Poetic Picture of Poetry Soup
Now for PD's Any Poem #37 Poetry Contest
Note: Just see how things have changed in a matter of at least three years or more. A review of "how it used to be" but a few of these names are still going strong today!!
Andrea Dietrich
Who's bio is quite eccentric.
Which just goes to show.
She just can't say no.
When someone requests.
That she be their guest.
She just put's them in the troup.
To spice up her daily bowl of soup.
Color me happy
I’m feeling blue
Brighten my world
With vibrant hues
Shades of green
Organic, fresh
Paired with whites
More is less
Red with sweet lilac
For a garnet treat
Add yellow to brown
For a golden wheat
The many possibilities
To spice up the wheel
They lighten my mood
Through color, I feel
You comment on my poem; I on yours.
"Your rhyme, meter and wit are exquisite,"
I say. You reply, "Yours I revisit
on the net; love how your irony gores."
Now, seated in the bar our chat is light
for hours on synecdoche and stuff'll
spice up a poem and maybe ruffle
feathers. Suddenly, it's time for, "Good night."
And then it dawns on me, the irony,
that our poetry is not what our talk
is all about. Apt metaphors might walk
me through this, but I stumble on blindly.
"I've lots more to say," I say. You reply,
"Okay then; your room or mine." I sigh.
*I've not personally met a Poetry Soup 'commentator,' but I can dream.
Entered in Brian Strand's contest, 'Any Top Twenty Poem', February 6, 2012.
Journey began for a family wedding
Lucky one is the brother in law
Love or arranged all seem chatting
Everywhere laughter some is awe
Reached the venue a day before
Gossip time along with fancy cheer
Discussions about beauty… on floor
Speculations for new comer un-clear
Greeting few known to many unknown
Everyone giving their words of wisdom
As if met many times…love over flown
Gathering so big like a family kingdom
Talks around…of old times and new
Rushing to the marriage tunes like crazy
Practicing for best roles solo or in crew
Laughter and gags to spice up lazy
Trying the untried talent activity
Wedding day spreads it unique glory
Dressing their best to be a celebrity
Dance, drink, dining…completes story
Couples remembering their times
A family photograph among all clicks
Making memories which sublimes
Wedding moves with happy-sad streaks…
Like the background music in movies
Like the artwork on the walls of your home
Condiments spice up your sandwich
~ Conversation is the spice of your life
I didn't spill the soup...
Nor jiggle the spoon too...
Just played a napkin...
But when all asleep...
I spice up the recipe...
My flavor then speaks...
Maybe it's the bad boy attraction
Maybe it's the need to spice up her life
Maybe it's the fire of her self defence mechanism
That keeps her tangled in his angle
Run with fine pun
Fun in the sun
Ploy works fond toy
Joy meets small boy
Know fun that shows
Grow where change flows
Spice up the nice
Dice that stray vice
Stake what you make
Shake out the fake
Dread halts the spread
Dead lines feel dead
Wit in sure bits
Fit in swift grit
Mine in odd lines
Pine for thoughts fine
Leon Enriquez
25 October 2916
Singapore
I insisted the jubilee amiability
to stir up with twilight-ed spirit
zeal of desires aroused
as the silverly rays crowned me
to pour out the gilded spirit.
Earstwhile crimson years
With some bichrome days
My glazed tumbler seems to reflect
those moments
as the sound of slopping gilded spirit
sloshed the bottom spattering the glazed ambiance.
I greeted the slushing club soda
to blend with its own felicity of bubbles
dribbling over the gilded spirit
to rebel the jubilee amiability.
Invidious comparisions of consequences experienced
now the encumbrance of responsibility that blazes
as I perished my own dreams.
I acompanied the thought lighting my cig
Smokes drifted alike my reveries.
I held my gilded spirit inclining to my thirsty lips
The gilded sip boosted me
Out from those obsessed incumbency.
I accompanied with a prepraration of pomfret tandoori shrimp
to spice up the gilded spirit
with slurp sounds that spieled again and again.
The jubilee amiability acquainted with
some imagery hot babes
keeping aside my eternal love for few moments.
My vision evinced bit of dizziness
As I imbibed the whole gilded peg.
The zeal of the twilght-ed spirit
That crowned me against my solitude passing jubilee
I was inspired by my own amiability
As if I was adorned with my Gilded Silver Jubilee Peg.
A fter a long drive we arrive
N ice looking hotel reception
A feeling of sensual anticipation
U ndue pressures on our emotions
G irl hands over keys to lovers convention
H ug you close, touch to please
T urning into a wanton tease
Y ou open the door to let paradise release
W e let our bodies do the talking
E motion shaking fingers do the walking
E asily we touch to thrill
K nowing our love we will fulfill
E asing out of our clothes, nerves are seared
N estling my breasts with your beard
D arling all inhibitions have disappeared
A ll feelings of frustration no longer exist
W et with longing for much more than a kiss
A t home our loving was getting staid
Y et here we are getting well and truly laid
Just goes to show that a naughty weekend away can spice up your life.
Dated 6 February 2013.
Teach me how to teach oh Lord
Grant me wisdom and provision
To impart lifelong skills and lasting values
As I let students widen their horizons.
Teach me how to teach oh Lord
Give me enthusiasm and affection
To execute my task efficiently and effectively
As I deal with their differences and needs.
Teach me how to teach oh Lord
Offer me efficacious pedagogy
To spice up lessons with differentiated instructions
As I use technology and available facility.
Teach me how to teach oh Lord
Open my eyes, my heart, and my mind
To see, to feel, to think for a learner-centered classroom
As I become a steward of these perceptive young minds.
Teach me how to teach oh Lord
Shower me with optimism and affection
To look at the bright side of everything
As I monitor students' holistic development.
Teach me how to teach oh Lord
Strengthen me If I become teacher-centered
To keep focus on students' welfare
As I act not as sage on the stage but a guide at the side.
I wrote my hubby a little note and this is what it said
Be home early tonight, I’ll be waiting in our bed
I put it in his lunchbox and sent him on his way
Hoping he’d be home early so I would get a lay
The day passed by so quickly and I was ready for some action
Put on my favourite negligee to spice up the attraction
But hubby was nowhere to be seen and I was feeling sad
Wondered what had happened – hoped it wasn’t anything bad
Hubby came in at normal time by then I wasn’t in the mood
Didn’t you find my message I shouted I felt like being rude
Message he said what message, and then I explained
He looked at me dolefully his face was looking pained
He’d put his lunchbox in the fridge and left it there till lunch
Grabbed it out the fridge and on sandwiches he did munch
His colleague had an identical one I guess they got wrong box
Hubby said his mate was like a greyhound of the starting blocks
Jan Allison
10th July 2014
My Neck Is Red, My Arms Are Tan
By Rick Rucker
My neck is red, my arms are tan,
I was, not long ago, a working man,
I retired, some weeks ago,
The Sun comes up, I have no place to go,
My Love is still asleep,
So, very quiet I must keep,
And now, the light sweeps across the room,
Deathly still, much like a tomb,
I should be in my car,
Fighting others, driving far,
I now start the coffee pot,
Soon, it will yield that beverage, hot,
All past mornings, at this hour,
I would have exited from the shower,
And had something small to eat,
And planned my day, complete,
Now, all I do, is to mutter,
Knowing that all I will do is putter,
My chores do not fill one hour of morning,
That seems to be an ominous warning,
At work, I would do this and that,
Now, I spend the morning like the cat,
I spice up my rest with naps,
Practicing for when they play me Taps,
Perhaps I will learn to embrace the morn,
Happy, again that a new day is born,
That is, of course, a hunch,
But now, it just seems a delay ‘til lunch!
You may think me daft,
But, now that I no longer ply my craft,
The dawning of the day,
Takes more of my Pride away!
8/6/2012