Best Squirmed Poems
it was the sixties
we were young
we were going to change the world
spin it like a basketball on our finger
take the three point shot
win the game
we had great leaders
john, robert, martin...
the planet was singing
with the purity of a four year old
...
The ants go marching two by two;
The little one stops to tie his shoe,
...
then
it started raining bullets
our optimism soured
slightly at first
and the grassy knoll
and the sniper
and the magic bullet
john was shot
jackie squirmed
we sat on the edge of our seats
The ants go marching four by four;
The little one stops to shut the door,
John F. Kennedy was assassinated
The ants go marching five by five;
The little one stops to take a dive,
years had passed, five
look before you dive
the civil rights movement gathered
to fight for their God given rights
the right to be treated as humans
exactly that...humans...no more no less.
to listen to the man who had said
"Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon
which cuts without wounding and ennobles
the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals."
the man who stood on the hill speaking
"I have a dream today!"
The ants go marching seven by seven;
The little one stops to pray to heaven,
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Martin Luther King Jr. was shot
died
and my God it rained
it rained salt
as a nation black and white cried
The ants go marching nine by nine;
The little one stops to check the time,
time for the rise of Bobby
Hoorah! Hoorah!
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
i wish he could have ran faster than the bullets
they murdered John's brother
Robert F. Kennedy was dead
the sixties where almost finished
and i wondered
if the world would ever be the same
again
I marched away buried my face into the ground
To get out of my pain.
great leaders lost
words that radiated
radiate hope
America was
the envy of the world
it's two thousand sixteen
and we have sunk so deep into the dirt
i know we can't Trump this disaster
have you ever heard of fools gold
we have a choice
our lives count
remember the ants
nature's banner is blowing in the wind
don't make
the little one shout
"THE END!!"
March 16 2016
armand
Categories:
squirmed, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Before I knew the day, the time
He’d die,
I came home to him,
My little smile, knowing he’d
Be there, he was always there
Always aware I was his
Defender, his reminder that
Some of us were willing to believe
In his war with intruders
Intruders who were often invisible
Yet, unmistakably real
Like the thunder he accepted
With trembling heart, fear concentrated
It seemed almost a tangible thing,
Even as he squirmed from the peace
Of my arms, where there was
More love that a heart can bear,
Love rushing to his rescue,
When life didn’t seem to care
He knew me when I smiled and
When I cried, saw the darkness
Bipolar draws over the mind,
The soul, and the gentle that a prayer leaves
Behind, he knew me like I know
He would have died to protect me
From the pain of his passing
A pain that embraced me with lasting
Grief, permanent memories
A yearning for the four soft paws,
The echo of howls, the affectionate
Licking, gentling even the worst of doubts
With assurance that love is always
The way to bring music out of the clouds,
Poetry out of the whines,
Breathing hope into the moment
Just before yesterday becomes the memory
That silences the dark
Whispering joy to the heart
Who evokes – his little expression
When stroking him restored some semblance
Of the grace that has always shown me
The truth in his eyes, warm and caring,
Glowing with affection that comes to life
In those whose destiny is service
To those of us who hear the song they sing
Before their hearts grow wings!
Categories:
squirmed, animal, dog, friend, heartbreak,
Form:
Free verse
(In 1807, Beethoven wrote a piano/violin
piece with this title. Count Leo Tolstoy
followed in 1890, with a short novel of the
same name, in which he argued that
matrimony can never work.)
What is a marriage? A fusion, or a tether?
Two very different creatures, yoked together?
I was a piano, you a violin:
I, solid, calming, you, discordant, thin,
and laced with bitterness. I was your base,
and you provided brio, flourish, grace.
A lacewing trapped inside a window frame,
yet driven by one blind, unchanging aim,
you struggled up until, played out, defeated,
you fluttered down again, debased, depleted.
A war's a love affair, and love's a war.
We're so inept - or what's a heaven for?
A nest of wasps, my grievances boiled over -
but could there ever be a vita nuova?
We never learned. I hammered pointlessly,
while you abraded. Why could we not see?
And so I played it stately, sad, no frills,
while you kept up your repetitions, trills
and variations. Hovering and wary,
you shunned my structures. Ever more contrary,
you coiled and squirmed in spasms both continuous,
spontaneous, free-wheeling, lithe and sinuous.
It seemed to me the harmony had gone:
we sang on, yes, but each a separate song.
Two butterflies together, intertwined,
we tangled on the same, but different, line.
Categories:
squirmed, marriage, relationship,
Form:
Couplet
The Cyber Nymph
Loch David Crane
August 18, 1997
Lie back--expose your belly ring
up unto the sky. . .
I just hope when I get down close
it won't put out my eye!
That summer I was 48
and she pert 25;
I left Prozac in the cupboard
and Reality went Live.
I shoulda taken time to stop
and used the vorpal rubber
But 48 he couldn't wait
to find another lover.
So while the Sun was merciless
to sand and skin and sea
"If she swells I'm sure she'll tell,
returning then to me."
I must admit I got her drunk--
I used her just for sex:
Blue and blond with freckles,
suntanned buns and pecs.
But she revealed computer skills
That took away my breath.
Her dancing cyber fingers sang;
I soon saw who was best.
Ol' 48 could bare compute
"Not very fast" she said;
"I've practiced years not to be fast"
gasped I, collapsed in bed.
Then the Sun warmed up the honey--
it dripped twice more in a row.
Ulysses' "rosy-fingered dawn"
beheld her frown, dress, and go.
That freshly-flossed feeling
reverberates my spine
A smile wells up from deep inside
and stays there all the time.
At play I watched this cyber nymph
on Netscape and E-mail;
Her eyes flashed, fingers flying,
shaking golden ponytail.
"You're kinda slow," she grumbled,
terrifying 48;
"But I like that in a man," she grinned,
making me feel great.
My old 12 color monitor
was not enough for her;
More movies, GIFs, and videos
flew by me in a blur.
But 48 he had a trick:
while she stared at the screen
I spoke in her ear, nibbled her neck,
and adored her like a Queen.
I kissed and bit and licked and squirmed
'til wrists and spine went quiet--
The way a mouse's legs go still
when python's on his diet.
And then the honey dripped once more,
the Sun was past its rise.
I felt its rosy hug and knew
that love was in my eyes.
I asked her for her address,
she wrote with @ in code;
I said "I'm too old fashioned"
and asked for her telephone.
So when you dream, sweet 25,
tall cyber nymph of mine,
remember please old 48
who isn't past his prime.
And as the honey of the Sun
drips down into the sea
I'll recall my Cyber Nymph
and she will undelete me.
Categories:
squirmed, funny, funny love, internet,
Form:
Ballad
BLUE
The rain startled the clouds and fell like
a scare of possibilities. The day toggled
from then to now like a withering widow
A flustered squirrel sat and squirmed
and still nibbled at a dry stump
like eliciting poetry off ancient prose
Some never knew the intent of need
others feigned disinterest in inquests
turning over their earths again and again
I read the prognosis of your vertigo
And derived a rider. That it was mere
Math to team up or to sleep in the buff
An unpredicted rite of passage
after all shenanigans stand erased
to uncover new aquifer in antique spandrel.
To discover that the sky was never this blue.
10 Nov 13
For Chris' contest
Categories:
squirmed, color,
Form:
Free verse
The Christmas when Santa got Fat
Kris Kringle rubbed his belly; he was feeling really hungry indeed
Mrs Claus had put him on a diet of what he felt was chicken feed
Brussel Sprouts and Lima Beans and lots of Spinach Green
Life’s unfair when you’re Santa Claus and still your wife is mean.
So what if he‘d piled on the pounds and his belly was very round
He could surely fit down any chimney without the slightest sound
Oh well he thought its Christmas eve , children would put out some snacks
Milk, Cookies and Candy Cane would put his tummy back on track.
He got into his silver sleigh and heaved a mighty sigh
Rudolph, , Prancer and Vixen waved to Mrs. Claus goodbye
He was really very hungry the clouds had begun to look like food
Then again if he asked his reindeers, they would be so very rude
They all agreed with Mrs. Claus, Santa was rounder in his seat
They hadn’t even let him carry his goodie bag of sweets
The last place on his list was the house of Jill and Joe
Aha he fit down the chimney and he heaved a mighty ho
He placed the doll and toy train right underneath the tree
He saw the milk and cookies and rubbed his hands in glee
He ate and ate the yummy snacks till his pants felt very tight
Cheerful now he began to feel Christmas Eve was a jolly good night
They he tried to climb up the chimney but heavens he couldn’t get back
He wriggled and squirmed but had to agree his middle was very fat
Rudolph, Prancer , Vixen he very softly called
You’ll have to pull get me out of here I can’t seem to move at all
The reindeers whinnied suspiciously what Santa felt was a nasty laugh
He now agreed sheepishly why his food had been cut down to half
They heaved and with a mighty yell, Santa came flying out
It was a good thing it was still midnight for no one had heard him shout
When they reached back home the reindeers gleefully recounted the tale
When he saw Mrs. Claus’ angry face, he began to get very pale
But when she gave her sweet belly laugh, Santa heaved a sigh of relief
It’s a good thing they got you out my dear before they thought you were a thief!
It’s a stricter diet for you this year before you revisit Jane and Joe
Or else instead of the chimney, you will have to ask to use the door!.
Categories:
squirmed, children, christmas, fantasy, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
Some conspicuous lice met once or twice
With white follicle mites who came out at night
And an upside down tick who did magic tricks
That entertained maggots who shared roasted haggis
With pole dancing worms who wriggled and squirmed
Under Chinese mosquitos munching burpy burritos
Chasing cobwebby crickets selling counterfeit tickets
To shows where no sensible grubs want to go
Warning churchgoing termites that these shows were a blight
On a class of weevil whose bite could be lethal
For marbleized moths drinking steaming Scotch broth
And sanitized beetles who had pins and needles
From sharing cold baths with nonsensical gnats
Watched by camp caterpillars strung out on painkillers
Sharing smokes with loud locusts who were very much focussed
On prostrate praying mantises with suspicious practices
Categories:
squirmed, insect, nonsense,
Form:
Light Verse
“Do you like yabbies?” Barry asked. I replied “Are you sick!
I’d just like to ask you; now is the Pope a Catholic?” …
So we headed off across the ranges, where Barry’s cousin Ray,
had a dam that’s full of them on a property near Yea.
There’s no sophisticated fishing gear that we needed to get.
Just a stocking, string, piece of meat; plus a wobbly old scoop net.
The dam was quite a big one with tussocks growing ‘round the rim.
Within an hour I had scooped a bucket filled up to the brim.
We knocked off to have some lunch and to have a beer or two.
but in that hour we sat down we knocked down quite a few.
When I resumed my ‘yabbying’, my head’s spinning like a top,
and then I saw a frightening sight that made me quickly stop.
A big brown snake was sunning, between me and the dam.
The beer had made me brave enough to give this bloke a slam.
I picked up an old dry limb and gave it one tremendous whack;
it squirmed and twisted in death thro’s; then lay dead upon its back.
Barry claimed I was a hero when he’d seen what I had done,
not many tackle brown snakes; they slide faster than we run.
“Is that so” I said to him, and was sobering ‘quick smart’,
watching Barry in his stupor pick up the snake and play his part.
He opened up the mouth and then he got out his pocket knife.
Put the blade behind a needle fang, “Here’s what takes your life”.
Then said “I ought to skin him; it’s prob’ly worth a ‘pretty pound”.
Then just for fun he grabbed the tail and swung it ‘round and ‘round.
“Be careful mate!” I turned and ran; making sure, I’m out of the way.
“What’s the matter?” Barry laughed. “This mongrel’s had its day.
I‘ll show you something else” and held the snake behind the neck,
then put its head into his mouth; then he gave it’s nose a ‘peck’.
Barry seen that I was nervous; that he held me in his palm.
He watched me flinch and shiver when he wrapped it ‘round his arm.
“Ah that’s enough” he grinned, but I reckon he’d been rash,
then he swung it high into the air. We watched it fall and splash.
Barry laughed, “That’s ‘gunna’ give the yabbies quite a feed”.
Then something happened in the water that Barry didn’t need.
We turned to walk back to our strings - Barry’s face turned ashen grey.
It took a while reviving him when the brown snake swam away.
Categories:
squirmed, fishing, scary,
Form:
Rhyme
Our President was fit and fierce
and there wasn't any stumbling.
He shared his vision openly
with out one moments fumbling..
These last four years our leader
has dealt with so much,
in spite of a opposition from a
Congress out of touch..
He spoke of our commonality and
those values that have gone astray.
Some Republicans squirmed in their
seats at the truths that he portrayed..
Thru many years of public service
he has brought his expertise, to the
table of a world now struggling daily
for world peace..
I must admit I'm super proud of our
"Popa Joe".
He showed the crowd and they were
wowed by where the U.S. needs to go!
Categories:
squirmed, perspective, political,
Form:
Political Verse
“A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.” – Josh Billings
When I was happy, you smiled.
When I was sad, you cried.
When I was lonely, you consoled.
When I gave you my heart, you gave me yours.
Thorns pricked, and you put your cheeks against mine,
healng my wounds in your soft furry touch.
Licking my face, you squirmed all over me,
your paws tangled in my hair, your tail wagging in joy,
dancing and swerving at my feet, you snuffed and kissed.
Reflecting sunlight into my foggy curtained nights,
Whispering small sounds deep into my soul,
As you caressed my pats, I radiated in your warmth.
Resonated in a passionate bond of karmic nearness,
devoted prayers, I saw in your dark, silent eyes.
Brimming with love, you fed my undying hope,
Courage to hold back tears, and strength to cope.
And then you betrayed me .... you died…
You will not wait patiently for me to return home
You will not run to greet me.
You will not nap with your face on my neck.
But as you leave, I have your parting gift.
Your watchful eyes, they guard me all times.
everlasting impressions of melancholy chimes
Man’s best friend, You taught me humanity.
You lay buried in my heart, in your love of eternity.
Dated 24th April, 2021
Categories:
squirmed, dog, friend, love, pets,
Form:
Free verse
This oak tree and me, we’re made of the same stuff.. Carl Sagan
why lean on my
unmoving breast?
breathe my rest...
climb my milieu...
hull me out
an adventure.
soar amidst
the forest of my branches.
i’ve squirmed as you shimmy up
and scream to be rescued.
i’ve dreaded the hearted-blade
score and singe in my bark.
you’ve left your bloody initials,
therefore, you’ve enslaved
yourSELF TO ME
in thorns and lichens.
i wonder when you kiss
off this puppy love
will you restore my health
or leave the scars of the past?
i wait eternally for your return
with roots sopping tears of regret.
perhaps your progeny approaches -
the wind whispers such vespers to me.
i ache ancient rings of arthritis...
crows nibble nebulously i fear...
in the end’s gratitude for sultry sun
and merciful cups of rain.
goodbye my dear. . .
the lightning strikes
12/28/2019
I am a tree poetry contest
Sponsor:
Delilah Ventura
Categories:
squirmed, tree,
Form:
Personification
A towel that is white is useful
and can clean and be cleaned.
A towel is most functional
in this form.
And suddenly a sock,
a sock that is red
is thrown into the wash
and now our white towel
is pink.
How the towel tossed and turned and
fought and squirmed about in that basin
with the sock, trying to squish
against the walls and avoid that
seeping, insidious, leaking red dye.
But it soaked in and became apart of the
towel, all the same.
entwined in its fibers,
pounded into its weaving
mercilessly soaking into its being.
Nothing is white for the towel anymore,
not bodies to dry or water to clean
it is pink all pink that spreads and separates
and the towel may no longer experience
white.
Our towel, once white is tinged,
singed, tainted, corrupted, violated.
It is not its whole self, a towel, that is,
it is an unclean rag that is tired and
worn out, frayed and stained.
Sure we can toss the towel in the wash,
douse its body in abrasive bleach to
try to wipe clean the slate and return
our towel to its most useful state.
But our towel will thin, and pill, and remain
just a little bit pink.
Categories:
squirmed, analogy, anxiety, metaphor,
Form:
He simply could not resist,
The mud puddle he could easily have missed.
As he carelessly tripped into the middle,
The bottom of the puddle he kissed.
He could not have had more fun,
As into the puddle he would run.
Now mudcovered head to toe,
There was no place for the ray of the sun.
After playtime had come to an end,
And much energy he did spend,
It was back again to his home,
And see if Mom’s intolerance would bend.
He stood there before her and squirmed.
She looked at him and stood very firm.
He knew he had crossed the line,
As there was now no place to turn.
He was amazed at what he would hear,
As he stood before her in fear.
She fought back the laughter that day
And simply said, “No play today, dear.”
Categories:
squirmed, childhood,
Form:
Rhyme
I'm trying a brand new recipe
that is claimed to be delishful.
Fresh beans with hue of grue
with butter pat and bacon fat melded.
I served it to my family
and waited for the praises
My tween son smarked,
"This grub you made
is truly vomitrocious".
"It's all you're getting for your brunch,
you better eat it up."
He snarled, "I'll wait for linner
and scraped it in the garbage.
He flundered off and I let him go.
I didn't want the hassle.
The other children squiggled a bit
but ate their food so they left too.
After brunch, I opened my email.
Nothing but infomercials.
The small children were watching The Muppets
and my tween was on the internet.
I settled down to a sitcom and
the peace and quiet was fantabulous.
August 22,2014 For Potmanteaus contest
delishful (delightful and delicious)
grue (green and blue)
melded (melted ad welded)
tween (teen and between)
smarked (smirk and remarked)
vomitrocious (vomit and atrocious)
brunch (breakfast and lunch)
linner (lunch and dinner)
flundered (flounder and blunder)
hassle (haggle and tussle)
squiggled (squirmed and wiggled)
infomercials (information and commercials)
Muppets (marionettes and puppets)
Internet (International and network)
sitcom (situation and comedy)
fantabulous (fantastic and fabulous) My brother who was a radio personality
swore that he coined the word fantabulous.
Categories:
squirmed, words,
Form:
Free verse
Man and dog, reputed best friends, rise above death’s fears.
With lives on the line, heroes save, minds and hearts in action.
Stories mount across counties where rescuers save many tears.
Not for any gain or fame, but for responsible satisfaction.
A perky little poodle, pretty, adorned in green and gray,
Trapped inside a smoke filled house could not get away.
Firemen forced their way inside in time to save the day.
She squirmed in the arms of safety, well enough to play.
(http://www.suffolknewsherald.com/2011/01/28/firefighters-rescue-dog/)
A black and white dog fell through the ice; he was not skating.
The thinly frozen water, his trap, oh, day in Rhode Island.
Rescuers came to save that dog; there was no hesitating.
They quickly warmed the shaking beast and gave a life-saving hand.
(http://cranston.patch.com/articles/dog-rescued-by-fire-department)
A German shepherd gone astray in the Los Angeles River
Stood on a shallow watery ledge, amid rushing waters.
His savior dangled above the scene, without any shivers.
A struggle for life, one bite to the thumb…success never falters.
(http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2010/01/los-angeles-firefighter-recounts-daring-dog-
rescue.html)
A candle flame, dog owner out, disaster begins to rage.
Five dogs in Colorado Springs saved while the fire burned.
One Chihuahua crossed the Vail to the great doggie sage.
But with love and a fireman’s CPR, her life was soon returned.
(http://www.examiner.com/dog-rescue-in-national/firefighters-rescue-five-dogs-save-chihuahua-
with-cpr)
Across the species border, thrives a caring respect for life.
Both man and canine have been willing to sacrifice breath itself.
Facing danger, against raging flames, bravery beyond strife,
A "dobbie" protects her puppies loving her babies more than herself.
The rescuer knew she passed through her fears and did so aptly.
He had risked his life for her and her pups, awareness shone well.
Both man and dog covered in ash with faces gray and sooty,
No bite, but kisses of thankfulness, she gave, so the world could tell.
© January 29, 2011
Categories:
squirmed, angst, animals, life, love,
Form:
Rhyme