Best Tuxedos Poems
Verses in italics by Jesse Whitehead
Verses in normal font by Timothy Hicks
birds in tuxedos
marching through snow
stifled laughter
a pair of short legs
behind the coats
patient as molasses
a surprise in waiting
tiny curled toes
it slipped through the claws
of a brown pelican
sharp as eggshells
words on deaf ears
nary a shrug
the stillness of earth
before receiving the rain
howling wolf
warm tears in the sky
silent moon
atop the pine-wood mantel
the treasured baseball
smoldering campfire
toasted marshmallows
precious longing
she pulls a Jurassic Park
turning on the gramophone
September sun
the wheels on the bus
through leaves and leaves
last stop
says the cattle driver
despite the breadth of these plains
my heart doesn't stray
chilly breath
beating drums
penny tossed to the curve
change of scenery
branches replacing winter
with wisteria
ladybugs gliding
through purple haze
hitting
the teacher's back instead
paper airplane
vapor trails
across the pale fields
did you see that one?
catching only the coattails
of a summer star
but alas
penguins cannot fly
As I walked into the room
which is filled with many people
women dressed up in their evening gowns
and men with their tuxedos
Romantic as can be
soft candles lit on tables...
colorful lights- dancing around
across the way... on the floor
there is many couples dancing
swaying to and fro...
Beautiful.. sweetness of Love
Fills the air...
As a man approaches me
and gentle takes hold of my arm
His sweetness.. full of charm
he smiled.. said Please Miss.. come this way
He led me to a opened table
in front of many tables
and with many seats about
he pulled the chair out for me
than suggested for me to sit there
and as I did.. tis I seen..
there laid a Red Rose
before me...
I thought.. hmm..
I would've preferred
more towards the back
hidden away... from everyone
Music playing very soft melodies
as I sat in my evening gown
tis kinda Silverish with sparkling beads
with back out.. my hair half-up and half-down
suddenly.. the music stopped
everything was quite..
and than slowly restarted again..
as the Beautiful music played
Tis I see is a man
whom seems to be coming close to my table
as he reaches my table.. he than bows..
as he is gazing at me... he smiles..
than in a whisper.. he said
I see you received my Red rose
than he reached his hand out
and said.. would you wish to dance?
I than.. said yes..
he than took my hand..
helped me to stand...
he put my arm through his
Than guided me to center of the floor
where than he brought me close
unto him.. embracing me...
as swaying unto the soft melodies...
I felt his warm breath
near my neck.. as his cheek met mine
than as he began to whisper..
he said... ... with great passion
........
~continued~
Post-hippie and pre-disco kids were we,
not clearly fitting one sole category.
Girls dressed formal for our biggest dance.
No short-shorts or those fab bell-bottom pants.
Exploring options at each fashion store,
we girls picked gowns whose length was to the floor.
Guys dressed up formal too; perhaps they’d rent
tuxedos that they wore to the event.
Some local band would play; their lead would sing
an upbeat tune for us like “Wild Thing.”
We danced free form, for we were not about
a single style of dance; we just rocked out!
No Bandstand moves for us; we did just fine.
No Salsa, Swing or dancing in a line.
I think the guys preferred the music slow.
Then into their slow dancing mode they’d go.
Around our dates we draped our arms. Our feet
seemed barely moving from one spot; a treat!
A treat indeed – though soft the songs might be,
hearts raced as partners danced romantically.
To “Have You Seen Her,” “If,” and “Maggie May”
we let our bodies sensuously sway.
The threat of Viet Nam was nearly gone.
To “Riders in the Storm” we blissfully danced on.
March 9, 2020
“Kim Rodrigues’ DWM Contest”
LIFE IS POETRY...POETRY IS…
Poetry wears the words of smiles and tears,
And speaks of stumbling through graveyards
And up the aisles to ancient altars;
Falling off of sidewalks and through the cracks of life
Then rising up to stargaze from thin lines;
Tripping over can’t and could have,
Butting heads with treasured idols;
Tracking sticky mud across the new waxed
Marble floor of the soul –
Scratching graffiti on the walls of the heart
Or gently laying kisses on fresh jagged wounds –
Carrying baggage filled with
Stones of calendar pages;
Chanting loudly of sunrise and sunset,
Blending crystal snow with newborn leaves;
Escaping clutches of midnight marauders
Embracing the fairness of rose and mauve;
Ignorance ignored screaming,
Scrapping tender knees and elbows on pebbled concrete,
Painting chaos – weaving breaths – unclogging drains –
Knitting together quietness in blooms of Claire de lune.
Poetry wears the words of frowns and grins
And tells of fat ducklings waddling through spring;
Wrapping scars in isolation,
Discarding blindness
In ancient hearts and newborn souls
And all the in between;
Cleaning closets stuffed to overflowing
With emptiness;
Running with ambivalence,
Looking into the eyes of the unresolved,
Fighting wrinkles or teetering on high heels –
Tuxedos rushing by the tattered,
Ragged holding hands with
Fire dancers balancing upon tight ropes –
Drinking fully from a trough
Of clearest spirits, giving up thirst,
Then wrestling with the fevers
Of inspiration through witness eyes,
Shouting across the centuries in baritone and soprano,
Reaching out and gathering in – juggling balls and overflowing plates.
The very marrow and the core.
The words of a poet yesterday – “Pretty, hell, poetry is life.”
Robert Penn Warren – June 1986
The sounds of the orchestra filled the room
Ballgowns and tuxedos graced the dance floor, and in one corner, an elite group of gentlemen mingled over scotch
In the early days, he treated her like royalty
Posh dinner parties and fancy galas
Always the steady beauty on his arm
He had no intention of loving her
She was just for show
But soon, all of the pieces began to fit
Late nights at the office
Endless executive meetings
His 'misplaced' his phone
He had been playing her all along
Yes. It was time
Time for big brave steps and a big-girl move
It was now or never
With one final glance at the men in the corner of the ballroom, silently, she slipped out
April 6, 2021
@katlady_t
A four piece string ensemble competes
with fluted crystal glasses harmonizing
to the tinkling of fine silverware
underpinned by the purring whispers
of well-to-do's and their hobnobbery.
Buttery lobster and rib-eyed supper in
opulent gravies and exotic spices;
cornucopia fruits on sterling platters
all floating about the ballroom on
white gloved tuxedos.
There’s a thick pretense in the air;
a high browed notion of superiority
reflected off each gold-fitted gemstone
amplified when ostensibly viewed
through a monocle lens.
I suppose it’s a lonely company they keep
esteeming each other as conquerors
by cordially extended handshake;
dodging and redirecting questions incessantly,
so as not to be rude, no doubt.
All the lavish excess of the night
is surpassed in every rise and fall
of her chest, as I contemplate silently
what fate has befallen that life, no more
beaming behind those sapphire eyes.
Empty sockets abound, lifelessly
betraying boisterous expressions of mirth.
Dancing corpses swig their Dom Perignon
forgetting for tonight, at least,
the toiling lilies of the field.
Preston Graham
(Grahamburglar)
08/16/15
For Contest: Puttin on the Ritz
Hosted by: Judy Konos
A dozen passports, with his photos, confused the law wherever he’s been--
Because he lives in the shadows, and has a number instead of a name.
He spends most nights in casinos, with ladies of dubious fame,
And wears the choicest tuxedos, with the most impressive brand name.
He’s a Double-O-something. It’s said he’s got a license to kill.
You better take my meaning: if he says he’ll get you, he will!
He always drives something faster, with accessories you just can’t buy,
Which leaves trails of disaster. You can’t catch him, don’t even try!
You might spot him in Paris, tailing a gangster or drinking fine wine;
Or playing cards with a terrorist, who soon will be doing hard time.
He’s a Double-O-something. It’s said he’s got a license to kill.
You better take my meaning: if he says he’ll get you, he will!
Food and wine, at it's cocktail's best
classical sound been heard, anyone could rest,
men in tuxedos, woman in their best gowns
talking at civil manners, with smiles, enjoying the party,
small laughs and whispers, elite people usually do this, really.
Then you came and pulled me
to a hidden garden of the party's place, you grab and drag me,
a secluded place, enough for us to hide and stay
and from there, suddenly you appeared naked as we lay.
I sensed your hands irresistibly shaking,
pulling off my small piece of cloth there, and I know I am waiting,
kisses been done, hurrying and scrutinizing
as we exchange our touches, oh, so intensely burning!
Whispers I heard from your lips as you stare
can't remember the words but you seem to dare,
how you want me badly, heavy breath I sensed
which made me long for each move you gave and made...!
I traced your bare back, felt your skin
I felt your weight, too close, too near,
squeezing me so tight, though your hands gently guide
harsh but not hurting me, as you managed to slide and glide...
Hmn...every move you made, turned me into heat
I uttered, "Hon, not here, please..." though I want it too, I admit,
and I can't deny the feeling, pulled you into my deep
surrendering my soul, which brought me moan with bliss!
In my dream, you're so near, too close, you're so real
Don't want it to end, I wish not to wake up, what's this?
I cuddled my pillow, then began to weep
Why it isn't real but a dream, too much to keep?
Ahhh... I wish to be with you, to be near you now
fulfill my dream, make it real, feel you real,
and this makes me miss you more than ever
haunting these dream again and again to feel you than never!
Inner Whispers
Had an invite to a ball in Lake Tahoe
at the Ritz Carlton what a surprise.
To celebrate in true old fashioned style
opened a door couldn’t believe my eyes
The ballroom was all of a glitter
with walls of silk and panels of wood
Had brought in chandeliers shining like diamonds
the backdrop of Martis Valley looking good.
One whole wall was made of glass
showing a view nearly too much to bare.
I heard the sound of more guests
turned round, I couldn’t help but stare.
Here were ladies dressed in their finery
the gents in tuxedos and white starched shirts.
They gracefully walked to their tables
whilst the band tuned up ready to start.
What a night of pleasure,
we waltzed ‘til our feet were sore
Then we gathered the strength for a foxtrot,
we danced and danced even more.
Fireworks were set off in the gardens
Spiralling high in the night air
The sparkle of these were out dimmed
By the light in the eyes of folks here.
What a way to remember the old days
all dressed up, in a ballroom like this,
The last waltz is played, looked around me
We all had enjoyed Puttin on the Ritz.
Penned by Seren Roberts
On August 15th 2015
Phil speaks
Before the winter sun
can open its eyes,
The legendary Phil
emerges out of its lair,
Members with hats and tuxedos,
Predict the long winter
If he sees his own shadow,
If doesn't see shadow,
early spring is ready to burst forth,
Brings festivities
of food and melody,
Misinterpretation can call for
a death penalty,
February 2nd, the Groundhog Day !
Written Jan 29th, 2015
For contest by John Lawless
God gave me a dream one night,
this dream was more of a vision.
In this vivid dream I was rather panicked,
everyone I knew was getting married,
everyone but me that is.
The men in this dream were all dressed
in black tuxedos, the ladies were dressed
in beautiful dresses, not all of those dresses
were pure white... symbolic? maybe.
So here I was with no one to call my own.
A bit sad, I was compelled to look up.
A bright, gentle light was located right above
my head, its warmth reached out and
embraced me.
Observing the light, I told the married couples
that I was married to God.
Some of these couples seemed to admire me greatly.
God loves and takes care of me, yet I often take that
special love for granted.
I know it's hard to be a single person during this day
and age, but just look at all the work that needs
to be done!
The love of God is joyfully being placed above all else
and all others in my life.
My eternal reward is truly with me.
As time flies, so her emotion swiftly fries,
As life frowns to dust, so her affection swiftly drowns to lust,
As love turns to coal, so her smile swiftly runs to the cold,
As sunset sets away, so her truth swiftly upsets the root of likeness, and erects away the boldness of trust,
but her hate doesn't rate me to roasted rat, because her hate is wingless, and no other can make her sweat and melt to hashes like I do.
Damn! I’m damned, if I get soak in her socking beauty,
Damn! I’m damned, if I get stolen by her golden smile,
Damn! I’m damned, if I don’t bench her lioness sex drive, I’ll infinitely feel less, like a quenched man.
Damn! I’m damned, if I merge with her chameleon cries and battalion kisses.
If I give in fully, just for the sake of ‘be a real man’, not 'a steel man',
my life will end up like the life of a North American bug, which inflicts painful bite on love and life.
When I transparently decide to give into love, all I get is:
Vultures smoking cigarette in an uncultured manner,
Kangaroo's doing Michael Jackson’s moonwalk in a live show in Cameroon,
Monkeys ordering for coffee, while wooing female donkeys
Zebras playing golf, with liberal views,
Lizards rearing Afro and trying to reawaken Lazarus from the dead,
Dingo's wearing costly tuxedos in Mexico, and speaking Spanish fluently,
Frogs driving Rang-Rove jeeps, in a foggy weather
Snakes wearing condoms to nibble into snacks,
Female Goats, wearing sexy underpants, to enable them float in a sinking Titanic boat
Bareheaded demons and bears drinking chilled bears together in a beheaded mood and using chilly pepper, to chill down their temper,
Horses babysitting housewives
I trip endlessly!
lost in a confused mood and temper, for she false me, she false me not.
I limp endlessly!
No matter how we try to put souls together to make our love bright and wealthy like the brightened face of Paris and the fat pocket of Las Vegas,
We always end up creating a poverty of love.
I have relentlessly tried praying forcefully for our love,
but I end up noticing that people, who aggressively pray the most for love, end up marrying angry praying-mantis.
I will just have to remain light-footed in love, and let her featherweight affections for me, turn to true feelings, or get carried away, because she false me, she false me not.
Slicing through this heart of their matter ? Said the mad hatter..
Giants causeway; going to view a rare as of late movie bits in, escapism
American Hustle it's title given and two facts for myself parted these curtains
Unto another motion picture's canvas: Amy Adams Bradly Cooper having loved their
Pryor performances endearing one's heart again his paradox ? A four star review
Left walking away once more disenchanted afore their final credits could roll of, deja vu
Regurgitated recycled hopeless hurray, for Hollywood ? Show me the money, her mademoiselle
Chimed a cheque in chic; slight be hands pink champagne red roses an invite to, his White House ?
Most every actor's dream come true; rubbing elbows with these tuxedos; slash, trench coats
Turn, and war their words; as baby got a new pair, of ruby red shoes ? Dance the candleman; atop
Silver chairs high up there enter this dox; celluloid impersonations reverberations constipations....
Grab that cash with both hands their golden rule while tossing Dorothy her rainbows edge your hungry.
Doctors getting exposed like popes,
Caught pulling the rope a dope,
Falling down the entropic slope,
No integrity - can't cope,
Seats of power to dethrone,
Why don't y'all extradite your own?
If ya catch a sleeper near ya,
Take that tommy peeper,
To the nearest theatre,
And expose that creature,
Its the latest greatest feature,
In reality media,
Put it on wikipedia,
We like, "Dawg, we hear ya!"
Stuff ain't black and white,
So let's punk these zebras,
Walkin' 'round like libras,
How 'bout we take their medicine,
To debilitate libidos,
Of ghouls in tuxedos,
Friggin' neato,
Now let's stop the peep show.
We gon' Murder, lazy suckers in art,
Not in the streets, are you a stinking sweet tart?
Be smart, avoid Agents Provocateurs,
Lessons learned from disturbed dealings with nerds,
I'm jealous of every one of you free punks,
Livin' lux' cuz you learned math and redux,
Methodology, just watchin' the flux,
Making rational decisions and earning big bucks,
Sucks to me be me cuz I'm a sensitive nut,
Driving the short bus right into a rut,
I once thought I was a cut above the rest,
Perhaps blessed,
But when putting faith to the test,
I found a lot of hex, and now maybe I'm vexed,
I realized my faith wasn't in myself,
It was in the rest,
So I went on a quest to discover why I felt,
And my feelings lead me straight to hell.
OMJeepers creepers,
Would ya get a load of these sheepish creatures?
Could ya set a tone of leaner demeanor?
Should ya live by the vote of some evil geezers?
I'm gettin' at the throat of some evil deeds,
I'm pullin' out weeds like, "who planted these?"
Some GMO seeds, like, "do we really need these?"
These things we see have an invisible leash,
I breath, I eat, I sleep, I compete,
I discriminate based on character for real,
No Little Bo Peep gon' convince me,
That skin means stink,
Look sir, I'm free,
To use intuition to see into you,
Sleuthin' through the politics that consume you,
Communistic who's who protruding through all the doo-doo,
You know this, Excentrix is super glue sticky dude.
The ballroom looked inviting
as I stood at the entrance door
the lights were brightly shining
from the ceiling to the floor
The music filled the air
as couples danced the waltz
all men looked debonair
in their well made tuxedos
I lingered for a while
before entering the room
to calm my nerve I smiled
as I sprayed on my perfume
This night's going to be fun
I reminded and told myself
as I looked around and scanned
searching his familiar face
And then I saw him standing
by the wall beside the door
oblivious to the dancing
going on at the dance floor
His face lit up in smile
as he saw me walking in
I felt a hundred butterflies
as I smelled his musky scent
He took my hand and whispered
"what took you so long to arrive?"
"the ball has already started
and we have to dance all night."
I said, "sorry to keep you waiting
it took me hour to prepare
to look my best for this dancing
as I know you would be here"
Without much ado we glided
to the Mexican tango we danced
my heart was beating fastest
as the mood took us in a trance
We swayed and pranced on and on
as the music kept on playing
from tango, rumba, foxtrot to waltz
till our knees felt like giving
It was a night to remember
filled with ballroom delights
that happened in that summer
in that warm and balmy night