Best Vacationed Poems
It's near midnight, whilst we moonlight walk
Palm tree lined fairway, Crickets singing
Hands clenched in loving vacationed talk
Hearts in wanting pound, Batangas is bringing
We, she and I, now amidst our intending lock
Serenity is the scene blessed by lunar watch
So late, but joyous we, soon our lips are speaking
Clouds now hover as we witness natures rain
Our apartment is distant, we welcome given
Through broken lunar light, stroking her mane
My hands in taken then, sensuously they're driven
Kiss me quiet is whispered, hearts now in reign
Walking, slowly walking, absorbing to us this night
Hearts in touching pound, Batangas has brought
.
fall enters gaily
with a shower of bright leaves
pushing summer out
I truly think that it's a bummer
There only is three months of summer.
I sadly wave her on her way,
Summer whose stay is too soon gone.
Our summer, this year, was a winner.
We picnicked, vacationed and played.
The thermostat peaked before dinner
as we drank lemonade in the shade
and watched glorious sunsets fade
11/1/15
She was big-boned. Her spirit
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome
threaded through moss and engine block.
Her home was a pine and beatboard camp
for wayward cats.
She would discourse from her tangled porch
where poems grew in small pots
muddled with Ramen noodle and Maui Wowie.
Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment
on the east bank of her right eye.
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke.
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints,
of Jack Kerouac.
She had pronouns before and after her name.
She wore a local fame, made legendary
by the gaps in her thoughts,
thoughts she shrewdly refused to fill in.
Kids,
I once vacationed in the company of silence,
It was an unconscious scene bestowed upon
me;
Although I had a calling that answered my
purpose,
A myth of joy existed outside this career,
I was left drowning in limbo, without an
excuse;
But there was a witness, who studied my trail
without cause,
And without apprehension, she helped to resurrect the
the location of destiny;
Allow me to reminisce on such.
For it was in a previous portrait, that I encountered
a dozen roses;
Of these that I held, there were none that exceeded
a brief touch,
A momentary scent that never returns;
Now understand with this expression, it is not a
boast I intend to create,
For I was seeking that gentle grip, in hopes of it never
departing;
I continued a cold failure, never realizing the warmth of
victory that smiled ahead.
I settled on the peak of solitude, as my faith passed
away in obscurity,
And yet, beyond these frozen eyes, there existed a
narration of fate, waiting for my company;
For you see kids, I’ve walked past the casual frame
of your mother,
And misplaced my sight, I’ve missed her spirit by
petty inches,
And when there was a vision of opportunity, my space
was occupied with trivial games.
Then one day, I discovered a possession that linked
heaven and earth forever,
An umbrella your mother left abandoned;
And yet, it was through her innocent misfortune,
That I discovered her abstract songs, played upon
by the perfect key,
Her heart that sits in prosperity, from the charity of
deeds,
A collection of beauty, your mother gracefully
owns;
By the time we crossed into cupid’s lair, I knew
already, the verses of duality were written true,
And with that, the perfect stranger discarded her
title,
Leading Renee into popularity;
Hello became the endless quote, we spoiled into
memory.
As the task of life left this page briefly open,
I responded with a mutual exit, confirming these
lips of joy,
And with revelations of challenge forever slayed,
I peacefully fell, forever breathless.
She had a craving for something sweet
So she got herself a sugar daddy
He gave her all her desired treats
And put them in a caddie
She was his favorite candy
He called her his Sweetie
And bought her diamonds and pearls
They vacationed in Tahiti
Where turqouise waves would swirl
And she would rock his world
~~
Contest : Sweet Or Salty
Sponsor : Andrea Dietrich
There was a street walker
Who was quite a talker
She vacationed in a place called Manhattan
But the people spoke no French or Latin
When she spoke Monsieur and Oui Oui
She was showed the restroom to pee, pee
Greeting the door man with Mon Ami
He thought she was giving him some for free
When the word Eiffel Tower from her lips fell
They grabbed her and put her in jail
I fell a tower in New York aren’t words spoke
Or you won’t be bored in Manhattan and that is no Joke
12/28/2015
A collaboration with Sonny Roper
'Tis so nice at Christmas time to receive a colorful array of cards,
From kith and kin sending their warmest Yuletide regards.
I don't mind receiving bills or a summons to serve on a jury,
But opening a card and finding a Noel letter causes me some fury!
Such missives detail the doings of their entire family tree.
I have no idea who they're talking about - it matters not to me.
Their perfect kids are doing great, earning scholarships to Yale,
Yet there is no mention of one who 'tis well known ended up in jail!
So they bought each of the kids a brand new DTS Cadillac,
And they vacationed at their fancy condo in Fond du Lac,
But no mention that Mom and Dad are due in county court,
To begin bankruptcy proceedings since money has come up short!
Junior is a super-star on the local high school football team.
No doubt he'll be picked for an NFL team - that is his dream.
But no mention that he was quietly benched during mid-season.
He was caught smoking something funny seems to be the reason!
I enjoy receiving traditional cards depicting Santa's ponderous girth,
And especially those telling of the dear Savior's wondrous birth,
But please spare me those inane letters and their gobbledegook!
I'd just as soon relax by the fire and peruse my telephone book!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I never had a chance to give you roses,
or lay rose pedals on your bed and maybe,
place them around your feet.
I never lit scented candles for you while
you bathed or had the chance to watch
you as you sleep..
We have never taken walks in the rain,
holding hands or vacationed together where,
we might have, looked into each others eye's, kissed
passionately as, I stroked your hair then said,
"I love you over & over again"...
We were so, lost in ourselves, caught up in worrying for others.
Those precious moments we could have had, when if, one
of us would have only taken, the time to appreciate the
other, maybe then we would have noticed
we first need to be friends before, lovers....
The reindeer vacationed in Denver
For three weeks well into December
No magic dust needed
To fly – they were “weeded”
But flight plans they couldn’t remember
*Written November 17, 2014. (Colorado legalized marijuana)
Both of us vacationed at the same resort.
Had rum vis-a-vis. Mediocre story.
One night you offered me and friend to escort
To music bar du jour. I won't be sorry.
We met when for both of us life was stable.
I was enchanted with velvet barytone.
Both me and you, we were so available,
Moreover, I was ready for engagement*.
We dined with wine and flamboyant cordon bleu.
From then on I realized we were en suite.
After long walk on the beach we sat down nu
In the crashing waves. You tasted too damn sweet.
I shivered, you gave me embace and your shirt.
In your oceanview suite we showered tête-à-tête.
You're too good to be true, first to make me squirt.
Tried to leave few times, though due to etiquette.
We made love so passionately À la française
I let it go and I granted you carte blanche
I started dreaming we'd see Canal of Suez
While unconsciously expecting new life's punch.
With first rays of sun my eye sees your body
To me it is simply pure chef-d'oeuvre
Together with your mind you do embody
Ideal. I'd exhibit you in Louvre.
Our tender sweet morning sex was Art Nouveau:
So pure, vibrant, new, delish, refreshing, chic.
While evening sex I'd classify Art Deco
It decorates my memoirs with awesome lick.
It is time for breakfast of toasts, cafe au lait.
Sex and two fried eggs would get us through the day.
We converse. Turns out we like Cirque du Soleil
I prayed to God that we meet again in May.
Right After breakfast we head down to the beach.
To swim, play in the waves, sun bathe and cuddle.
Your bum is as soft as golden autumn's peach
I find myself tangled in email bubble.
We lay back and look afar into the sea
At art of love and passion I'm débutante,
My head is left with short glimpses potpourri.
We are planning dining at a restaurant.
Before getting ready we both go upstairs
We love each other tender with so much might.
How will I live after tonight? Oh who cares!
The moment is free of indecision, fright.
* French pronounce
The Boss Up in His Tower
By Franklin Price
12/8/2016
The boss up in his tower, and the worker down below
Had somehow disconnected, how it happened who's to know
Been together since conception of the business and the plan
Each one knew the job to do, both the worker and the man
The years went by, the profits grew, the way was bright and clear
The worker was dependable; worked hard from year to year
The boss became an egotist, puffed out his chest with glee,
” Look at me, without me, where would the worker be?”
It was he who had succeeded, all the profits were his own,
He moved into a mansion as the company had grown.
Drove expensive autos. vacationed foreign lands
The worker ran the business, exceeding all demands
The worker fed his family, paid utilities and tax,
Often went to Goodwill for the clothes upon their backs
The car he drove was ten years old, and always breaking down,
Barely got the kids to school, wife to discount stores in town.
For vacations to a foreign land there was no hope at all
Unless the money gambled, won the elusive power ball
So the worker kept on working, just to barely pay the rent
At Christmas time a gift certificate, for a turkey, he was sent.
The worker finally had enough and went out on his own
His wife and children helped him, by answering the phone.
He worked hard to develop a better life for him
Soon hired his own workers, paid a living wage to them
The worker kept succeeding; knew all not due to him.
Each person, that he hired, was a loyal working gem.
His policy was sharing all the profits to appear.
His workers could pay all their bills and take vacations every year.
The worker was not stupid; knew some hires just got by
Would barely get their jobs done, did not really want to try
Took off every chance they got, did not work so well for him
Did not deserve the profit sharing and, with warnings, fired them.
The boss that he had left behind saw the error of his ways
He had not done it all himself, being greedy never pays.
Customers bought from the worker, for the quality was there.
The boss lost most his business, he had no one left to care.
The elves had been loading Santa’s sleigh for the night.
The reindeer were all prancing about, with delight.
With Santa aboard, a loud, “Ho-Ho”, did ring; on the crispy,
cold air, as the sleigh left with a “zing”.
Their forms, they were lit, by the light of the moon;
old Santa would be delivering soon.
At the first house, he came down the chimney just right;
“Clearly”, he said, “this will be a good night”!
The cookies and milk, so refreshing, they’d be;
as he gobbled them down, with such hearty glee.
On and on, he continued; delivering his gifts.
The sleigh a bit lighter, the reindeer, did lift.
As an airliner so swiftly, came crossing their path;
The faces inside, took a big, second glance.
Santa waved, they waved back; up high above the trees.
The trees seemed to bow, as he passed, with a breeze.
With each reindeer, he shared, his cookies, you see;
the fuel for his journey, would always be free.
Round the world, he did travel and all in one night.
Every creature on earth, was thrilled by the sight.
To the squirrels, he brought nuts and cheese to the mice.
Koala’s got eucalyptus and horses, warm blankets, so nice.
Not one soul, did he miss; though he dodged a few drones.
Santa made his deliveries and then headed home.
Mrs. Claus had hot cider; a warm meal, at the ready.
Santa arrived with a yawn; his eyelids, so heavy.
Unhitching his sleigh, the elves bid him, good-night and
the reindeer, bedded down, in the barn, just so right.
Santa ate well and slept a very deep sleep;
Tomorrow would bring many orders, you see…
For the next big delivery, would take a full year;
each Christmas, came faster, it seemed, than his reindeer.
For a man in his hundreds, old Santa was spry.
To please every child, in the world, he would try.
As the elves took the orders, for the next Christmas season;
the Clauses, vacationed, in the warm Caribbean.
I vacationed in Segovia
and also spent downtime in Madrid
but which is why matters not where
for I forgot what I there did.
My days spent in Segovia
and in Madrid were solo
though I cannot prove that truth
for I took not one single photo.
I know that times in Segovia
and Madrid combined were expensive,
especially my time spent in jail
cause one city nailed me "offensive."
So be it Segovia or Madrid -
a utopia or dystopia grid -
I'm a rude nuisance who's crude presence
both cities united to forbid.
See the money?
it’s not in one place
See the help?
it’s not in one face
My my…
See the Pass?
it’s the call of our Age
our time to change
...what’s important.
Come. Passion calls
on us all to pass it on
use the Write
to correct a wrong
amuse in delight
to carry on…
Come and Pass it on…
Coastal states
troubling winds
change the game
by way of minds
”... don’t quit we’ve
Just, begun…”
shellfish lost
and selfish laugh
but hells not frozen
and we’re not half
as complacent as
you might think
we can grow a fish
in a shell of p!nk
that’s right…
new.tone
generation brain
on a better horizon
While farmers fish
and cast a net
the Cornman smiles
and our farms are wet.
Tourists will come
to clean the shore
change your rooms
and open the doors
learn to be safe
then teach us how
earn our keep and
let your business grow
give me a shovel
and take me to sand
show me some oil
and I’ll give my hand.
I’ve vacationed before
on your pristine land…
I was a ‘shopper’ then…
But when I return,
I’ll be your friend.
Frosty really loved to travel you know,
but couldn't go to a place with no snow.
All his friends heard him chatter
"This is snow laughing matter!
Maybe Antarctica's where I should go!"
On the way south he saw a cantina
right at the bottom of Argentina;
and there he did manage
to take full advantage
of a sale on frozen Margaritas.
Frosty, by way of explanation,
vacationed at McMurdo Station.
He met a snow sprite
whose name was Pearl White.
It's said they had quite a flirtation!