Best Stepper Poems


Premium Member Bat and Gat: Unwelcome Picnic Guest

The picnic was set for today:
A cause for two hips and hooray.
With Split and Blueberry,
Their time would be merry
That’s if nothing got in their way… 

The deviled eggs had to come first,
‘Cause a picnic without them’s the worst.
They proceeded to beg
The hens for some eggs,
And boiled them when they were submersed.

But when Bat and Gat started to pack,
Their picnic plans went off the tracks.
It was almost Bat’s fault,
Since the pepper and salt
Hadn’t made it yet into the sack.

The only thing they had to do
Was to pick up their friends Split and Blue.
With a rabbit and goat,
And their deviled egg tote,
They could hike to the overlook view.

Well, the eggs made a pretty nice spread
When added to Split’s honey bread.
But, sitting down eating,
An unwelcome greeting
Then filled them with terror and dread.

’Twas the sound of a huge rattlesnake;
What a racket that rattle did make!
Though none could find him
Out front or behind them,
Poor Blue and Split started to shake.

Then Gat sprung away like the breeze,
And spied him from up in the trees.
She pointed to Bat
Where the rattler was at,
And told everyone else to freeze.

Yikes, the snake tried to strike at his knees;
Bat evaded his strike with great ease.
Quick did a side-stepper,
And doused him with pepper,
And the rattlesnake started to sneeze!

Well, that was the end of the battle;
They all could now safely skedaddle.
The pepper, in fact
Brought such an attack
That his sneezes set off his rattle!

They all walked home in the sun,
And all had turned out to be fun.
An eggcellent day!
Yes, hip, hip hooray!
Bat and Gat, hero cats, number one!
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Limerick

Sidewalk Stepper

The power lines stretch across the sky
moonlight makes a shadowed place uninviting
as a blinking street light
has trouble making up it's mind
what's a daydream called if it's late at night
apart but we're currently immersed in
the atmosphere of a city breathing it's vibe
I'll meet you there 
if you'll remember the same place the same time
and looking above us
the power lines
stretch across the sky
Form:

Prep Talk

<                                      Peter ~ Piper ~ picked ~ pickled .... peppers
                                        Ate ~ one ~ turned ~ into ~ hot ~ salsa ... stepper
                                                Cherry ~ Banana ~ ....  Bell 
                                         Boy - his - tongue - throat - did ... swell
                                         Couldn't ~ even ~ yell ~ at ~ packs ... prepper






Entry For
Destroyer {Poet's }
Pickles & Tickles Contest
G.L. All
Form: Limerick


Premium Member The Stairway To Nowhere

Up early in the morning and off to the gym
Determined once again to get myself slim
The place is full of tight butts and flat abs
How long I'll last here is still up for grabs
I sweat through weights and cardio stuff
After about 30 minutes I had quite enough
There's one more machine that has my name
The stair-stepper always put me to shame
I climb to no-where, my legs giving out
I hate this sucker-Id almost rather be stout
Once again I leave feeling quite depressed
People love this stuff? oh surely you jest....
Form: Couplet

Loopdeloop

“LoopdeLoop”




Nothin’ better to do
so the Culprit,
that would be - You,
chases tale lights 

counting numbers
walking a thin line 
answering your sins with a smile
insane whims in no man’s land

walking a thin line
finger on tip of nose
between right and left side
of a recently released feeble mind

where you find it 
hard leaving 
the past
behind 

skipping away your life
skipping with birds of a feather
skipping slowly the fast hours away
skipping the skirts of another

skipping 
LoopdeLoo

I think I found the Culprit.

You.
Painting everything in Blue. 
Hiding under your 
recalcitrant cover

skipping 
and dancing
two left feet 
LoopdeLoo


(LadyLabyrinth/ 2020)




“High Ball Stepper" / Jack White
https://youtu.be/sRbnAxrS3EM






"I am the electric storm come to defibrillate your heart".










noun. an airplane maneuver in which a plane, starting upward, makes one complete vertical loop.



noun.  a ride in an amusement park that simulates this maneuver. 



verb. Either a dance or sexual intercourse. Referenced a lot in the musical “Bye Bye Birdie”



verb. When you're driving and you don't know where you're going, and you miss the exit, and instead of saying u-turn, you say you have to make a loopdeloop. You say this to ease the pain of realizing you actually have to turn around. It sounds less harsh than having to take a u-turn.
I missed the exit! I just have to loopdeloop and then we'll get there!




tail.
tale.

Premium Member Grandpa

Grandpa raised me to listen to the whisper of grace, tracing out miracles on the edge of my faith… by poet

~~~

Grandpa had hair like salt and pepper
His hands were old and wrinkled from time
As was his face – creased, not in his prime
Once upon a time, he’d been a high stepper

Grandpa knew about the old days and ways
And he looked almost ancient to my young mind
The thing that always struck me was he was kind
Gave from his heart, everything, even his praise

Grandpa loved me like no other possibly could
He welcomed me to his house with an open heart
He made me feel as if I was nothing but good
Thought I was so fully alive my joy would start
Giving back to the world - a love that withstood
The test of time and assured hope I would impart

~~~







The Petrarchan sonnet, perfected by the Italian poet Petrarch, divides the 14 lines into two sections: an eight-line stanza (octave) rhyming ABBAABBA, and a six-line stanza (sestet) rhyming CDCDCD or CDECDE.
Form: Sonnet


My Style

I am of the past and present, of the today’s as much as yesterdays,
People of this world, ever changing of today,
Normal as well as weird a slave as well as a free man,,
stuffed with the stuff that is harsh and stuffed with 
	the stuff that is kind, 
One of  the cherished persons, the person, the person of many 
	the weak the same and the strong the same,
A child as a slave, An adult blind 
	and unseeing ,
A teacher as a leader, a student following their
	ways trying to understand the complicated ways
	of life,
A feather as weightless as air, a rock ever so heavy
 	dragging us down til the feather begins to rise in us
A girl as a women, a boy as a man making choices
	ever forgiving, sometimes regretting, often mistaking,
A shirt as ever covering, a naked body as a blank paper
 	covered with own stories of every person , struggle, choice
	covering our life under clothes 

A Father as protector, a mother as angel ever looking 
	out for us with arms grasping to us and eyes open wide
	to see 
A  son as a child, a daughter as a child listening learning
	to deal with the life in which we are handed
A hand as a tissue, a foot as a stepper, wiping tears
	with the backs of our hands trying to stand our ground 
	but sometimes falling farther down 
Comrade of jocks and outcasts.. Comrade of individuals
	standing for themselves, living their life
Comrade of complex and simple- comrade of everything
	Different, changing 
A friend with drama, a enemy with plans,
A beginner trying of new things,
Of unknown info and unclear thoughts and new problem solving,
	though  trying
Not of the After Life but of the Living or
	those surviving ,
A killer, gay, or a slave … a doctor, straight, 
	or a free man 
A sadist, drama creator, outcast, loving person,  or popular.
I don’t take life for more than I can take,
And live the days as if today is my last day;
And  continue on til my time.
The caring and the heartless are in their places,
The pain I can see and the pain I can’t see are where they will stay
The life I live is the life I will live

In Poetry Diva Form

I am a high stepper a total stimulator of the human mind.
You see me in my drag and you don’t like me like that.
I take a step further and switch my a**,
Human capital is money in the bag.
Political forum is effervescent.
Vibrant alive is the environment.
People are shouting from all angles and the boomerangs are swinging back 
     and forth. 
Vivacious is the audience.

Flimflamming is part of it.
This is when the audience just loves it.
The significance of all is the genuineness of the performance.
A Poetry Diva format has formed.
A forum to explore that is poetically platform.
Come on home to the entertainment world.
Or, just say you adore Poetry Diva.
_____________________________|
Penned on May 31, 2014!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member 30 Rolls of Quarters

30 Rolls of Quarters
Miracle Man
1/6/2021

This Pandemic hasn’t been a great morale booster,
but no hill for this stepper for I’m somewhat a loner.
Some days are as hard as “putting socks on a rooster,”
 and my parts are all worn out so I can’t be a donor.

The thing about aging is each day’s a discovery,
I’m always finding things I’ve hidden from Ern. 
Only later to stagger on them and make a recovery,
My sweetie says I act like we’ve money to burn.

Today I uncovered a previously hidden stash,
which can’t be spent without parental consent,
We’re gifting these rolled quarters, to Daisy & Cash.
now they’ll never be entirely broke, just seriously bent.

This is what this pandemic has done to me. ha
When Ern’s in a “horn tossing mood” 
I practice social distancing.
Because “She could start a fight in an empty house”
and she says “he will argue with a wooden Indian”
and is “so narrow minded he can look through a keyhole with both eyes.”
I think I’m “tougher than stewed skunk”
but Ern says I’m “all hat and no cattle”
I’m always accusing her of being tight, 
but she says, ”she has short arms and deep pockets.”
but we both know it’s “almost time to put the chairs in the wagon”
but until God calls, “as long as I’ve got a biscuit, she’s got half.”
Tom
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Tread the Earthmen In Pride

To move forward in blindness
plane to plane
to whistle the winded tune
of inspir'd stride
wreckage maintained
coldly
plane to
p l a n e
whirled at the side-stepper in violence
violness
vileness
busy in his own self-sight
is man,
earth's foot upon his chest.

The Soldier's Wife, Part I

I was a young man when I saw her,
and things certainly began to stir.
Of course, I was only seventeen,
and young minds don’t take much convincing.

She was hot, in her early twenties,
and for some reason winked right at me
as I work to put in her garden,
in the hot summer sweltering.

She said that I could come on inside,
cool off before the heat made me die,
chattered about her ‘no-good husband,’
how the ‘deadbeat’ had long since run off.

She said that I could use her shower,
then she stepper in too, and for hours
she showed me how two people loved,
that’s how my innocence was lost.

The put is simply, she blew my mind,
and several other parts at the time.
I don’t know it if was great for her,
but it was quite world-changing for me.

I wasn’t a novice anymore,
and I knew as I walked to the door
that this was something I’d not forget,
a long-lasting memory.

At the time I wasn’t that disturbed
by the picture of a young soldier
that hung prominently by the door,
I barely even registered it.

And of course I went and told my friends,
the high-fives and hooting wouldn’t end,
for a high school kid just starting out
a big score like this makes them hot s--t.

For a long while after that day
I’d think of it in a certain way,
something unique and special to me,
that I could look back on and smile.

But as I reamed into my thirties
it started feeling stranger to me,
though even then I could not say why,
it would take me a little while…

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

Censorship

Dedicated to the first amendment..


Censorship. What we can see and hear. 
Limited. Possibly to stop mass fear. 
Or perhaps, censored so we adhere. 
To the facts that remain unclear.
Some don't even know about it.
How our vision is clouded. 
How some information is outed. 
For own good? I doubt it.
Given the facts, we may pay attention. 
Shifting their agenda, their elections. 
So even the news goes through an inspection.
Leaving behind fragments of their own selection.
Censoring out discipline, for public disrespect. 
Like when Chris rock thought he could speak about Jada's head. 
A Censored broadcast aired in the U.S. 
Guess we shouldn't teach our youth what should and shouldn't be said. 
How about all the innuendos? 
Kids shows. 
Like cow and chickens  episodes. 
Little weenie, Tongue Sandwich, or Horn Envy. 
Yet they censor out the 94th Academys? 
Slapgate? 
Standing up for family? 
How about Callilou? I've never seen a kid so bad, have you?
Yet it made it through..
And watch by children age two.
Even Facebook participates. 
Posts getting cut, wiping the slate
Misinformation? Or facts in which we can relate? 
Wiped clean before there's even a debate. 
So we have freedom of speech, that's not so free. 
Censorship on what we hear and see. 
Oh, let's talk about property. 
What we pay for, you and me. 
Do you think you own it? Well let's just see..
Bought a car lately?
Vehicle taxes must be paid yearly.
So we pay them to own property.
In the land of the free, idiocy! 
Okay, but at least we are all treated equal. 
Well here's a sequel? 
Cannibis, in some states legal. 
Yet cancer patients, in SC aren't equal people? 
On and on, I could go on forever. 
This country ain't getting any better. 
Better be a light stepper, rule abiding treadder.
Not a collector. 
A fact professor. 
Better be a sheep, in the herd, giving in to the pressure.
Led to the slaughter, by our elected. 
Americans free and protected? 
A nation infected. 
By choice.. Selected..
No voice.. defected.

Premium Member Dancing

To jitterbug and jive, perhaps to feel alive;
Dreaming that I too could dance as well as you;
Strutting to a tango in Chichicastenango
Touring a veranda edged with jacaranda.
Four eyes eagerly dancing; engagingly entrancing
Above paired swaying hips and rippling tender lips.
When the musical combo broke into a mambo
Our hearts began drumming to a secret thrumming.
We did a conch horn conga on the isle of Rarotonga
Balalaika strumming, we tried romancing as we were sabre dancing
I waltzed you like a rube along the Blue Danube
And when we danced the line, I kicked my boots up just fine.
But when I awoke, I knew my dancing was a joke;
Just a stutter stepper or a sneezer inhaling pepper.
                                                           2/24/2019
Form: Imagism

The Paw-Trod Path

Along the paw-trod path
Narrow and dainty through the gorse
Where yellow flowers
Lie dim like fallen stars in the mist
Comes a silent visitor, hesitant
It licks its lips
A taste like vinegar
Humans of old and long ago
Their lonely essence gone

The heather-stepper flinches
Shy of memorial eyes
The castle ruined on the hill
The manse below with broken windows

No smoke at the chimney
Only the wind that whips at the gables
And the empty nests of swifts
	
Nudging open the gate, it sniffs
The garden is overgrown
Cow parsley four feet tall

The front door at the porch swings on its hinges	
Frightened at first, it shies back
But, then, seeing the door ajar once more
It pads in

In the hall, the photographs are curled in their frames
The flock wallpaper brown with age
Light rectangles appear on the wall
Where paintings have fallen to the floor
As nails have loosened away

Through a dirty glass door into the kitchen
A female body, face-up, mummified by cold
Her icy fingers gnawed by time
Clasps a mobile phone to her breast
The last note she wrote
With her thumbs
Before the screen went blank
Was: "It won't be long now."

Dancing In the Streets

Come on come on  everybody bounce bounce bounce with me
I am a hot stepper can't nobody hold me down so set me free
Everbody  Jam Jam upon sugar hill 
let your step be on a maximun overdrive skill
Quit Quit crying in the rain 
Po folks downing purpil pills with cheap champagne
Seen my girl on T.V 
looking starry eyed and a little dizzy dizzy
Come on Come on let's keep it up 
let the whole world keep filling our cup
Rumble rumble in the jungle 
let this magic wand not let you stumble
This ghetto love got to get it  
Westside Eastside let's see it fit
For your going to fly now  
like a sweet escape electric salsa fowl
No more football on T.V.
hit the streets a dance you shall see
Got to get one more time  
try and keep up with this rhythm and rhyme
Hate it or love it  I'm going to be alright 
just stay with me just one more night
If ya getting down 
I'll be there to wipe that frown
Don't cry tonight 
Mr. Wendle luv you better with your runaway fiddle
So here we go once again
 dancing and grooving 
to a life on the streets  spin
Form: Ballad

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