Best Tossing Poems
I’ve decided to be rid of some things:
a moth-holed sequined dress with bitter tags,
the weeping journal of ennui and pain,
the mocking trophy case of trophied dust,
proud calligraphed to-do lists left unchecked.
Let them shout accusations from the curb!
February 20, 2019
Thomas was a tosser of the caber
Loved to practice in front of his neighbour
Oh boy how she would blush
When he wiggled his tush
For his caber glowed like a lightsabre
Just a fun write about the Scottish athletic event of tossing the caber which is practiced at the Scottish Highland Games. The caber is usually made of larch wood - it is 5.94 tall and weighs 79kg
16th June 2015
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
A speech in front of hundreds, I yearned to scream
Standing in my underwear, my shaking voice was caught
Closing my eyes tightly, trying to change the theme
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Skating across the ice, I wind up to take my shot
I miss the net completely, letting down the team
I’m stuck in a roar of booing heckles, an onslaught
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
Shut these lids again, restarting in a shallow stream
Running with aching legs amidst a forest, I am shot
A hunter hovers over me, to finish his prey I deem
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
With the bang I take off again, sprinting on the spot
There is no ground below, I plummet from a height extreme
Anticipating the collision, pinching to change the plot
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
Is it over? Am I out of this self-induced figment regime
In a jolt and thud, I reach the cloth of bed that I’ve sought
A sigh of exhaustion and relief, I’m all out of steam
Bedding and pillows askew in the chaos that I brought
In a tossing and turning night.
June 6th, 2022
A RONDEAU REDOUBLE POEM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Oh, What A Piddily Day
I Whittled It Away
On Some Unnecessary Chips
On My Shoulders
& In My Dips ...
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/12/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
The ice swirled around in a dangerous way
Tossing cars willy nilly into each other and concrete bridges
I marveled at her confidence and power
Hoping I was not going to slide into the two wrecked cars in front of me
She gave me a tiny spin, showing me that I had no control at all.
She grinned at me in her icy blackness
It was the last thing I saw.
Contest: A Short Metaphorical Poem
Sponsor: Bobby May
Written 11-4-2019
Tossing the Bridal Bouquet
By Elton Camp
Their wedding vows bride and groom did say
One more task before they make their getaway
A tradition that started five hundred years ago
But one that is still considered to be fun though
The single ladies are called and all gather about
While the bride throws her bouquet with a shout
Because, by tradition, it has jokingly been said
She who catches it will be the next to be wed
Macey hoped they won’t see her expanding waist
And she came rushing over with greatest haste
The other single girls she brushed right on past
For she had a reason she shouldn’t be wed last
Pecos Bill rode herd in the vast forlorn.
His quiet Paint gobbled buttered popcorn.
A tornado, in a fit,
Came for a whirlwind visit.
“Paint, meet Curley. His back I will adorn.”
Bill grabbed his rope and threw a loop with hope
And saddled the whirlwind so Paint could lope,
Leisurely grazing along
While Bill sang a peaceful song
Though the twister used top spin, Bill could cope.
Whirly raced north swift as antelope might.
Picking up barns, tossing them left and right,
Heaving a freight train five miles.
Bill hung on with joyful smiles,
“Almost beats chasing roadrunners at night.”
Bill rode that twister into a broke nag,
That lay city curbside limp as a rag,
A sadder, but wiser storm.
Where his horse Paint, true to form,
Whinnied by the nag, wanting to play tag.
A jolly sheriff saw Bill ride in view,
He chose at least three tickets to issue:
Parking in a tow away;
No emissions valve that day;
Driving a twister with no license too.
Tale Tales 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jeff Kyser
Date Written: 3/14/2022
Used Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
Each spring in the Gulf Coast Panhandle
Seafood lovers attend a festival
Honoring the dark meat, oily mullet
That leaps into air shaped like a gullet
But the oddest part of this tradition
Is the mullet tossing competition
Both he-men and ladies take to the beach
To see how far their mullet toss will reach
So if you're beachcombing and see fish fly
Now you have insight to the reason why
A waste of fish? Yes, but fun’s had by all
And winners dance first at the mullet ball
When smoked, the mullet tastes best served with fries
But it’s cool to watch when it’s tossed and flies
tossing and turning
the night seems endless and dark
light hides behind dreams
Brians Triplet contest
12/5/11
Off and on they signaled, always in rapid fire
casting munitions across my window blind
A garish platoon of aggressors engaged in war
all tossing hand grenades at my haggard mind
Their bullets were blinking in Morse code
flashing in rhythm with droning dissonant jazz
From their stronghold across the asphalt road
they nightly attacked in a tawdry scheme
No clouds as allies to enshroud the moonlight
In cryptic shadows I avoided the street lamp
and the eyes of their sentry. Her stilettos tapping
in syncopation, I slipped by their sentinel vamp
Stealthily I moved, muscles tensed and strained,
I peered through the umbras to launch my attack
An alleyway spotted, and there I ordained
the weapon to silence their nightly escapade
Behind their front line, my hand unlatched the box
I flipped all the switches and pulled out the fuse
The only sounds I heard were patrons moaning
No Morse code signals or stilettos walking in ruse
On my window blinds there were no flashing lights
No tacky neon sign, offering home brewed beer on tap
Victory over the aggressors. I mumbled their last rites
I slept peacefully through the night with a fuse in my lap
Copyright 2014
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
POETIC LYRICS BY McDONALD'S INTERNATIONAL, LLC
ANOTHER---YEAR---------AND--IT'S--ANOTHER---NEW---YEAR!
FOLKS!
WAS---IT---YOUR------WINTER---WONDERLAND...THIS-YEAR?
WHEN---SNOW--FLAKES---------BLOW-RIGHT-----OR--EVEN--WRONG...
THEY-------CAN-------COL--LECT.........AS-THOSE----WINTER--WONDERLAND...
KISSES!
PILED--HIGH--------AND--EVER----SO--TIGHT!
SO--LET'S--------GO---FOLKS!
ANOTHER--WINTER--WONDER--LAND!
[NATIONAL ANTHEM]
"FALLIN FOR YOU" BY COLBIE CAILLAT
"TOSSIN ROUND ON A WINTER'S WONDER-LAND" BY COLBIE CAILLAT
Copyright 2014
All Rights Reserved
Poetic Lyrics By McDonald's International, LLC
Snow-board's...TIGHT...and-SLEDS...Come-From-My...CARDBOARDING!
AZURE-'N-GREEN...HILLS......and-Moguling...DOWN...THOSE-HILLS!
Crashing-Waves...and-WAVING...Down-THOSE...Waving-WAVES...and
WAVING...THOSE-BRAIDS!
Teeth-So-WHITE-and-PURE...PEARLY...WHITE-OR-BLUE!
SOME-DAYS...were-so...WELL......NOT-SO...PEARLY!
Bubbles-and-BUBBLING...DOWN-WAVES...
LED-to......a-Pearly...SWAY!
Tossin-Round-On-A......Winter's...Wonder-Land!
BLOWN-------KISSES......and-KISSING!
On-A...BLURRY...AND-FUZZY-WARM...Winter's-------NIGHT-OR-DAY!
COL-LECTING...BLOWN-KISSES...AND-HOLDING-TIGHT!
BE-IT.......WRONG-OR-RIGHT!
A-Heart-So......PURE-AND-TIGHT!
AND-KISSING...THROUGH...THE-STARLIT...BLUE-LIT...MOONLESS
BRIGHT-LIGHT...and-SHINING!
Stars...Shining...GRINNING-AND-GIGGLING...BURSTING
AND-LAUGHING!
Tossin-Round-On-A......Winter's...Wonder-Land!
Another-Year......Done-Right-or-Done...WONDERFULLY!
FINI
Tossing mints in a t-rex mouth,
his calamitous breath smells good,
as the terrible lizard rolls you South,
delighting in his wintergreen food.
Thankfully this monstrosity of a sweet-tooth Rex
rejects his diet of flesh and menthol as vomitus.
Relating voluminously to Jonah - you’re a wreck.
You slide off the belching tongue in slovenly gravitas.
You run as his roar, like a refreshing wind,
scores its daily fear and loathing.
This close encounter with your courage thinned,
avoiding an impression without a stitch of clothing.
3/15/2019
Before the new year can begin,
You have to throw out every sin;
So with a rock or piece of bread,
You toss them quickly overhead
Into a river or a lake,
Where they’ll be gone, for symbol’s sake.
The brand-new year will start and then
Your sinning can begin again!
*a tradition on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year
We used to think about the stars
more distant than the planet Mars
But now we only think of Earth
which puts a damper on our mirth
For on the ground and in the air
There’s so much crud we just can’t bear
So all of you who toss your trash
You ought to be, but aren’t abashed
Be warned! We have a brand-new plan
That we are sure will soon you land
In jail in your respective towns
And change your smiles to ugly frowns
So if you like your freedom, guys
Don’t toss your trash! ~ A word to the wise
Headlong into the sea of love
Down to the bottom I dove
Up out of the murky deep
Came that sparkling trove
I’ll take my chance to see below
Prospecting from the cold deep
Revealing the resident of that pod
Scrap or precious stone to keep
Handle her carefully
Watch out for the swirl
Or you’ll be keeping the oyster
And tossing the pearl
Maybe her beauty will stun me
Be it a sparkle or maybe shine
What really lies beneath it all?
Is it sand or a jewel so fine?
Prying open the calcified case
It reveals such beauty is rare
Perfection on full display
Exquisite and loveliness fair
Handle her carefully
Watch out for the swirl
Or you’ll be keeping the oyster
And tossing the pearl