Best Squirts Poems
(Especially, for new writers)
Just as in real life, some poets have the art of wearing masks of friendship.
You will know, when they stop commenting to all your works.
It's not rocket science to figure it out.
They just stop posting to you totally and it feels like being hit with a boxing glove.
No, your poetry is not inferior!
In fact, you may be a more than one time POTD winner!
Even then, they simply refuse to acknowledge you.
They just ride on white unicorns, under an allusion that they are superior?
How cheap, how tawdry, how unloving and cruel!
These poets who think they are some precious jewels?
But you must go on, though they ignore you like dirt.
They are nothing but arrogant, selfish-centered squirts.
The most loving poets are here in abundance.
They honor you, love you..
These lift your soul with a sweet, humble incense filled cadence.
......Write-on..ignore the unicorn riders......
"By their fruits, you will know them!"
January 14, 2020
Apart from our nice 3 piece suite the cat has clawed and shredded
it's knocked over a figurine that lies there prone, beheaded.
I'm quite adept and nimble fingered-
Have I got the knack
to use a tube of superglue and stick her noggin back?
The bottled glue is near opaque, unseen and so I doubt
if any glue is left inside, then all of it squirts out.
I'll grab the phone, dial 101 and get help if I'm able
to prise my thumb and forefinger from off the kitchen table.
Should I get free then this might be the chance to commit crime
since two of my poor fingerprints won't grow back for some time.
I've scraped and polished tirelessly but the table's still got glue on.
Should one more figurine get smashed-
I'll just go buy a new one.
An Aussie Bush Pee
Now! Have you ever tried to have a pee?
while squatting down and hiding in the bush.
But first, must pull your jeans and undies down
while all the time you’re showing off your toosh.
You grab your jeans and undies in one hand
to keep them out the way before you go.
While balanced in a squat your legs apart
you think you’re ready to then let it flow.
But! as it starts you then begin to squirt
it everywhere except upon the ground.
And then you realize you cannot stop
pee on your legs, your jeans, and all around.
You try to hold it back while you then change
position of your squat will be the plan.
You curse and swear, but then it squirts again
it’s time like this you wish you were a man.
Undo their zip and let it all hang out
before they start just hold it in their hand.
And then direct the flow just where they want
‘Cause they can take a pee while they still stand.
But no! For me I have to try and squat
on wobbly legs while trying not to fall.
Then as I go, I know I’ll wet my pants,
but how to stop it I have bugger all.
So! Next time when I am out in the bush
and need to pee; I’ll strip off all my clothes.
I’ll stand up straight, pretend I am a man
And maybe only pee upon my toes.
But wait! I have now found the perfect seat
that I can use when I need a bush pee.
No longer need to squat and squirt it out
I’ll take my new ‘bush dunny seat’ with me.
Christine ©
Lingering in the morning air
The pungent smell of derriere
Burrito with Beans
Cause the morning screams
The dreaded Hershey squirts beware
night market! a juggle of flavors
succulent and citrusy with
pears pumpkins peaches inflamed
and clothed in sweetened rinds like
watercolors of tangerine and mauve...
stems dipped in waters of tender sun
flesh touching flesh,
nectar glazing bronze on squirts turned into nectar,
into savory brine... then to wiggle
upon a harvest filling
quilted baskets sucked and chewed: beaded
globules, bulbs rippling in own honeyed pools,
tangy fruitage which bears the ripest of ovules
lacing the tongue ambrosial. tangy...
and ladies like rush home with flushed romance
in their heads
with piles of delicacies bending swirling
on their ample chests
to taste the liquid radiant syrup
of eve's craving for a night lovers' feast.
For Debbie Guzzi's Just A Little Bit Of Sugar
2/22/2017
When Putin is telling the truth
The frogs queue up at the Kissing Booth
But the Russian Bear
Growls, "You should take care!
Vlad squirts cyanide from his tooth!"
I'm going to love with no shame, tired of loosing at love's game
Alert, Alert, I'm going to love like I've never been hurt.
I've suffered so much not being able, to love you the way you needed me to, it was easy to say I'm through. Oh, love take my hand, I'm ready, I will, and I can.
I'm going to love like I've never been hurt before, I refuse to run or even walk out of love's door. I'm going to love until it hurts, tears please no squirts. Realizing, I have nothing to lose, today I am ready to choose.
Deep bass breaths blue soothing strong
Play me like Picasso piano all night long
Nibbles at my ear are a peach love song
So dear my heart cheers stringing me along
My knees melt like Swiss cheese
You fill all my gold holes
Fuchsia feelings like destiny
Embraces my heart jumpstart my soul
I am a sandy song
Which you determine kinetic key
Like guitar play teal thong
Make a romantic red melody
Let’s break burgundy rules
Play them like a bugle
Use pink passion as a tool
Use tongue to draw pink doodle
When the fat lady sings
You know that she felt sun
Never mind about denim dreams
She squirts sonnets just for fun
After I thought a while it seemed clear
it wasn’t the yap, yap, buzz, ring, chat
that drove him away from the city.
Nor the police alarm yaw-yahing
saying danger or someone hurts.
It was the hands. Hands reaching
to touch his face, his hands, head.
Hand to rub his belly or grip his shoulder.
Hands coming from above, or below,
little squirts tugging at his clothes.
Once away into the hidden places
where no one lives the animals peeked
so further he went, seeking grit
to rub against, hard stone for bed,
the cold of stars above in the night.
A place where lizards basked from afar--
other survivors looking for a drink of water,
a drink of alone to coil within breast,
for weariness to weight the legs
heart pumping alone, be still, find grace
with the end of the tolling bells.
Where self is a light to breathe upon
let flare into true soul, the space
where heart flares out like a beacon
for all to hold and when you’re ablaze
there’s none to say they are you they.
Just peace. Belief. Tomorrow rising
with a hunger that goes beyond feed
goes beyond trust, goes beyond life
to a beauty amazed to find where once
having found blaze it never goes out
ready to hand out and hand out.
Unmeant meanings
Words keep watch
their eyes in the empty spaces
fingers feel their unformed faces
Can words mean what they were not meant for all by
theirnonselves
even if they come clothed in nonentity
cuneiforms hieroglyphics ideophonograms
strokes signs signals sounds shapes silences squiggles squares squirms suctions squirts scuds screams squelches screeches screams or sickening sobs
words sum up fix errant thoughts
speak for all
though in tongues without jousting knights
errancy will not lead to errantry
Only the blind conceive their shape form posture
the staid but rumbunctious music of stilled hieroglyphs
the pliability of ideograms caressed down rice paper
their squiggly strands
the self-effacing hand-and-foot maidens
of matronly phrases
some leaning awry
the calligrapher’s trembling hand
all all straining upright
the custodians of invested stock
foot-stools of pouting poets
the sum-total of coveted currencies
exchanged stock variables
Who would be hurt knifes himself
with meaningless words
who would laugh
breaks out into song
the sing-song stress and accent of vowels round and strong
learns wayward steadfastness
with his words
with words
with the word
with the world of wonder in
always willing and wilful words
April 23, 1997
From the privately-pub. coll. (re-worked 2016): longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris: 1999, 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Iced tea's sipped from a mason jar.
Lemon sun squirts light from afar.
Ruffled parasols relieve some
from relentless heat as green thumbs
plant colorful chrysanthemums.
Barefeet tap to the earth's rhythm.
On sighing summer breeze, bees hum.
Perched on the front porch swing, I strum
a simple chord as neighbors come
and join the carefree song. They drum
to the lazy day's mellow bars
until our light shines from the stars.
Scented Leaves
Flowery fragrance sorts divisive airflow and cooperates amidst plethoric aubergines that bathe breathlessly, brushing raised exemplars of strewn unfurled chartreuse fronds, lain in the wake of humble pattered feet enthralled in its tangy betrothed crisp path,
Ingratiating themselves against engaging tickles of countless laddered leaves being crushed, bursting citrus piquant squirts that flavors a blessed orangey tawny forest of verdurous lime greens and lemony leaflets of carpeted existence essences,
Autumn gifts a luminous prism of extraordinary combinations touching rainbow eyes to favor, and unimaginable pleasure of incalculable noses to savor, as per crowning Heaven, immerse its creation re sun-drenched over-shades lathered in a pool of multiple redolences.
2019 November 12
*1st Place*
SCENTED LEAVES
~~Kim Rodrigues
" Maple Syrup and Wild Berries ... "
(From The Solomon Studies Series # 9)
(Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29 / Job 35: 11)
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are Delectably Sweet
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are of GOD's Plants & Nature Treats
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Offers Earth's Tastebud Feasts
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Add Both To My Oatmeal, Pancakes or Waffles, Please
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both, Big Bears & Little Birdies Greet
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Snacks - You Don't Have To Pack To Go Meet
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both, Kiss Our Childhood Memories Cheeks
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both - Put In Pies, Cakes & Cookies We Eat
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are Part of The Best Desserts' Recipies
Tho' One's From A Bush & One's From Trees
Tho' One, Pools Upon Breads & One, Dives Into Creams
Tho' One Is Thick Sap & One's Plump & Juicy
Both Flavors, We Savor As Distinct & Sugary
Tho' One, When Bitten - Squirts Out Instantly
The Other, When Tapped, At First Barely Leaks
And Tho' One Is Poured & One Preserved or Jellied
Both Are Placed As Sweet-Pleasures In Our Pantries
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are of GOD's Confection Delicacies
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Both Are From GOD's Bowl of Delicious Energies
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries
Holy Father, Thank YOU, For Baking Both Candies
Maple Syrup and Wild Berries ...
Will Your Leaves Be Curing Nations In Garden Entrees'?
(Rev. 22: 2)
O' Yeah! ... Taste and See How GOD Is Good, So Graciously
Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/18/2014
by: MoonBee Canady
Here I sit, on an examination table
bored, swinging my feet to and fro
waiting for a doctor who will be able
to diagnose the reason why I feel low
I study the body posters while I wait
in my unfashionable blue paper gown
I must remember to sit up straight
to keep my tushie from being found
Another hour goes by, maybe more
I'm sure I got forty winks in a nap
I can hear him now, outside my door
clicking his tongue then 'rap, rap, rap.'
A cheesy smile then he reads my chart
I could tell him what he needs to know
and doctors are supposed to be so smart
Well, he should have been here long ago.
He shakes my hand then off to the sink
where he washes with ten squirts of soap.
"You think I'm contagious?" I ask with a blink.
"Don't know," he says. "Maybe there's hope."
He inquires, "Now, what seems to be wrong?"
I ramble symptoms; there are many to convey
while squirming from the pinch of my thong.
Shouldn't doctors be old, at least turning gray?
"Lie back," he mumbles, "and I'll check you out.
Blood pressure's high. You have a fever, too."
Into his stethoscope I was tempted to shout
but he hands me a cup and I'm off to the loo.
I clean off the seat from someone's neglect
sit quite impatiently, and desperately I try
to get enough of a specimen for him to inspect
while maneuvering the cup beneath my thigh.
Back to the room and the nurse peeks in.
A frown on her face makes me start to worry.
She seeths the words, "Where have you been?"
"My pee cup runneth over," was my true story.
Dr. OneSoYoung returns and takes a chair.
Eyes of blue, handsome face, but I digress
while I'm sitting here with my bottom bare
Wondering if my thoughts, I should confess.
"Get dressed," he orders, with a look of dread.
Must be bad news, I tremble, cold with a chill
thinking that by tomorrow I surely will be dead.
"You just have a bad cold and here is your bill."
I spent all morning thinking I was near death
and his diagnosis claims that all I have is a cold.
I peeled off my wrap and said in hissing breath
"Your bedside manner sucks, if truth be told!"
To the pharmacy, I strode with a disgruntled look.
I have to pay a fortune for prescribed medication.
Druggist or physician, which is the biggest crook?
Now I suffer from the malady of acute indignation!
The time has finally come,
As we men most often fear
That dreaded magic finger,
Thank God it's once a year!
The doctor does his duty,
It'll all be over soon
We'll take a subtle bow,
To bare our hairy moons
POP!...goes the latex,
We hear the squirts of gel
What only takes a moment,
Seems like a month in hell!
We'll grit our teeth in fury,
Oh, what an awkward twist
"Doc, is that your finger?!"
"It feels just like a fist!!"
As we waddle from the office,
Our boxers rather moist
Manhood's left on the table,
Although it's freedom's choice
The time has come to pass,
We'll dare not shed a tear
A comfy sofa awaits us,
Our egos nursed with beer