Best Well Formed Poems
It was a nightmare of a boat trip
I almost choked to death on an orange pip
They did not strain the juice well
And from a small pip, I gasped for air and started to swell
If it weren’t for a crewmember named William Patel
Well…
I stayed in bed for a spell
The captain apologised
Which was wise
He said “ the rest of the trip is free.”
So I was extravagant and splashed out on the person I called “Me.”
While sitting on deck, by the pool, sipping me tea
I was captivated by a well-formed female in a translucent bikini
She rolled her eyes flirtingly at me
So being the gentleman I am, I rolled them back you see
We were mesmerised with each other for a while
As we secretly exchanged a naughty smile
I placed hers in me left butt cheek pocket
As I felt me Viagra stick raising like a rocket
This was the beginning of a sensual relationship
Thanks to that bloody orange pip
Anyway, we went below deck
Where it was dark and gave each other a peck
Then we were at it like hammer and tongs
Moaning and groaning the seductive songs
Who needs Viagra, it was me
Only me, all me me me
Take some advise, find a place where you might get caught and you’ll see
It will magnify the enjoyment of your OOOh!, uhhh!, oohweee!
We stood in a narrow doorway
And began entertaining each other with a bit of, you know, foreplay
Then she turned her back to me and oooh! What can I say
Pressing against each other and pushing against the door arch was… heaven all the
way
Then, yep, we were caught, and guess what happen next
It was the captain and she was his wife who would suspect?
The big mother was rather vexed
I tried to tell him not to blow it out of context
But… the bugger wouldn’t stop strangling me with his mount Everest pecs
Give me the orange pip any day
But the situation I was in, hell no way
Must you leave again?
Your strong, capable hands
rest naturally upon my
curvaceous hips
masculine against feminine.
My world explodes with your
seductive, electrifying touch
as your inquiring blue eyes
penetrate mine so deeply.
Knowingly, you scan every
inch of my body and face.
I melt, as your well formed
lips curve into a faint smile
as you explore with restraint.
My hands glide over your
tanned, muscled arms
feeling secure, as they
wrap around my small frame.
I silently plead, stay with me
always, and never let me go.
Must you leave again?
Written on 3/7/2016
I am the Temple
I am the temple
Baptized in rain
Weaned by the sun
I am the temple
A manifestation of glory
Well-formed beyond perception
I am the temple
Capable of cored inner peace
Taught by the blossoms of the great oak
United in matrimony to the wind
I am the temple
Mystical in origin
Halved with the contents of the ocean
Bathed in dewy blades of grass
I am the temple
Wired to heal
Mulit-layered with creative energy
Painting realities across life’s canvas
I am the temple
In its purest and truest form
www.nefretitim.com
"The Folk Dance"
On the backs of well formed muscular miners
Working hard in the trenches on a daily basis
For the men who need coal, fat cats and such
Dirty, sweaty and tireless toil try to wear them down
Dehydration and soot inhalation runs rampant
An epidemic throughout lower Appalachia
The jobs they need, for their survival indeed
Their meager paychecks insist they must do it for the love
Ten to fourteen hour shifts and then they collapse on the bed
Six days of the week it's merciless work to anybody
Sunday comes and they can take a day of rest
A certain buzz going around electrifies every last person
Timing is just right to surprise the deserving workers
Since people have prepared to throw down a hoe down!
The good old fashioned type with the elongated dresses
In classic style with seemingly everybody statewide participating
With a do-se-do and an allemande left good country spirits spin uproariously
Twisting and turning to chanted rhythms on a hard packed dirt floor
Inhibitions are nowhere to be found amongst these family friendly folk
Arm in arm with strangers they know each other wants a fair time
Soon the energy starts rocking to the extended company outside
The hootenanny has grown too big for just one barn, they are tireless
"Well Shucks." says the fat cat "I don't work them hard enough!"
Watching from afar he fumbles with his pocket watch just a little miffed
A raucous good time for a genuinely good people
The orchestrator slows it down some and pulls out his granddaddy's autoharp
Relaxing to an old fashioned twang, the couples do their thing
Getting closer to each other rocking calmly to and fro
Feeling four minutes of tenderness with filled loving concentration
Because those seconds are the fleeting ones
Then the banjos bring the pace back up to complement rowdy fiddles
Moving and twirling, elation fills the air for a chance at remembering
Why they are alive for each other, ingenious in its simplicity
While Merriness is their motto
And not even the coal mines can make them forget that
Sometimes studying the mirror I'm overcome with chagrin
Feeling disappointed by this shell I'm dwelling in.
With my slightly too thick midriff there above my underwear,
I'm more the rotund apple than alluring luscious pear,
Making ludicrous comparisons to girls with waspy waists,
And my nose, Lord, Pinocchio's, upon my pleasant face
With its odd small accompanying hump placed what!...To accentuate?
Later, however, on better days, my focus redirects
To reviewing my favorite qualities, and what I see reflects
A somewhat shapely figure; Legs lean, well-formed and strong;
Lovely eyes, lips and breasts, and lashes that are long.
So I'm obliged to acknowledge with accepting certainty
My temple, though flawed, was gifted by God
(And there's always rhinoplasty)!
For the "I Am" Poetry Contest of Frank H.
A group i knew had an incredible sound
A number one hit up the pop charts bound,
The drummer played with plenty of heart
Every second beat a well formed fart,
The stage show a new experience found.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
A ripe body of Adolescence, nuzzled by beauty
on which hair is polished by crystals and sapphire
but lacks in the garrison of virtues and patriotism
becoming blind to the significance of its own felicity.
So gullible is its owner, that Dorian Gray is her preferred suitor,
so false are her choices like bringing Tilapia to Canada to strive.
Protracted human disasters have not altered her Oestrus
yet barren even with the plethora of fertile males
she's an ignorant keeper and owner of a unique talisman
causing a huge surveillance from selfish sugar daddies.
In the midst of her turmoil, she stays ludic
inflicted with so much pain but cry so rhapsodic.
Swimming with the fast in pretentious avocation
entertaining in self deceit, through every dulcet move.
Well formed mouth without a beak and limbs with soft knees;
her metamorphosis should be complete, yet a chrysalis she remains.
A complete turnaround requires an economic Hasidism
for the existing gross mediocrity to be evanescent
then refined existence in juxtaposition between an idyllic present
to a radiant future would be once again fully established.
Observer of the skies, I thrill to see
a puppy cloud stretch out to dragon length,
a shapeless mass become a well-formed heart,
or pastel puffs become an ice cream cone.
These sights call forth my best old memories
of playing with my dog and summer treats,
of how my teen heart fluttered when I wore
my first real boyfriend’s class ring on my chain.
A local man I knew saw doves, the Cross*,
and messages from Jesus in the clouds.
A booklet holds his photos of these scenes.
Revisiting my copy gives me pause.
Why would two long-time Christians like us see
such widely-varied scenes among the clouds?
I’ll bet this man prayed fervently to see
some lovely words and images from God,
who chose to send the answers in the sky.
“Ask and ye shall receive,” the Bible says.
I’m praying, and believing, He’ll reveal
some messages from Heaven in the clouds
to bless my soul and move my heart to sing.
*The Cross upon which Christ was crucified
March 8, 2023
Contest: the Each Passing Cloud Poetry Contest Placed 2nd
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Sure i hit hard, always shining like a star, i carry more pain than any man
I'm half metal, I'm prt metal too ever since I was knee high
Trust me i learned early, 11 mnths. i was walking and stomping by then
May i remind you I'm remaining silent, like Mirinda rights
... how she fixes things
And i tell you i still hit good with the pain
And i know your blonde hair and your blue eyes
And I know the clue coming from Spain
Like I was nuesas, like I couldnt even respond to that comment - man!
And she's a diamond sparkling in my eye's when i tell her this
If I was'nt half metal I'd be hooked on that thing, still hooked
LIke them juices what you gonna do?
And your breast they're well formed I knew GOD knew what He was doing
And your face, let's just say that, God gave you something to touch my mind with
I'm telling you it would be a pleasure just to be in a presence of a Beauty well
Like she was in the Palace, and The Princess, like she needed a KNight in Shining Armour
Like I was A-fraid, and THe ARMY be the Sword in my hand you bastard
And the dragon I be chasing after him, boy I ain't scared
Bits and pieces of my song Justice league
It was the best of poos,
It was the worst of poos.
Restroom, oh Restroom,
Wherefore art thou Restroom?
Momma says poo is like a box of chocolates:
You never know what you're going to get.
NO SINGLE-PLY EVERRRR!!!!!!
Frankly, my poo, I don't give a damn!
Please, sir, may I have some more toilet paper?
Fasten your seat belts! It's going to be a flatulent night!
I love the smell of well formed poo in the morning -- smells like victory!
Nobody puts Baby in the corner stall! Shut up you idiot, I wasn't dancing! I was trying not to poo myself!!!!
It might be a tumor.
It's not a tumor kid!!!! I'm just trying to poo!!!
You can't handle the poop!!!
Two roads diverged in a restroom, and I,
I took the one less taken.
And that has made all the difference.
A group i knew had an incredible sound
A number one hit up the pop charts bound,
The drummer played with plenty of heart
Every second beat a well formed fart,
The stage show a new experience found.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
So strong a stem, such well-formed flesh
your leafy limbs (though aged) still fresh
among the garden damsels posed
as if you're worthy of the rose!
Your airy blossoms speak with ease
but reek of lustful potpourri;
a dogged, macho dander poured,
the filthy scent that beguiles whores!
Sometimes your tasseled fingertips
might stimulate a young rosehip
a helpless bud in field of weeds
to pollinate among the reeds!
But wisdom tends to bare the thorns
of self-respect and pride reborn!
Perhaps a pair of numerous lips
might fell a lass with Shakespeare's scripts
but commonality gets old
just like the woody of a lad too bold!
But here, you're sordid lies won't sell
your hapless whispers known too well.
I've choked on bitter-weed champagne
no aphrodisiac remains.
A ragweed blister on the tongue
from dalliance when I was young.
Your flower mouth can't steal my breath
because your words have got no depth
you ragged my spirit, gagged my soul
but I am unaffected anymore!
Nothing stirs the languid souls of folks like a hometown parade.
Friends and neighbors uniting to form a colorful cavalcade.
Any special occasion will do such as Veterans or Independence Day,
To uproariously celebrate and put on a spectacular display!
The parade is led off by aging vets proudly carrying Old Glory,
Stepping lively despite expanded girths and looking rather hoary.
The mayor is next in a flashy convertible exuding all of his charms,
Grinning inanely and greeting folks with his out-stretched arms!
The local high school band marches slightly out of step,
And playing a bit off-key but tooting with mighty pep!
The equestrian saddle club prances by in well-formed troops,
Followed closely by a couple of clowns wielding clean-up scoops!
Anxious moms herd a troop of Brownies so small and so cute.
Here comes the Hometown Queen - isn't she a charming beaut!
Vintage cars and John Deere tractors put on quite a show,
But a Model T Ford stalls causing its owner misery and woe!
The Rose Bowl and Macy parades are planned with great ostentation,
Designed to entertain TV audiences across this great nation,
But small town parade committees are just as proud as they can be,
To plan and sponsor a pageant to please local friends and family!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
When there’s more writers that write
Than readers that read
Does the future seem bright
Or,
Perhaps poetry’s in need?
Was the melody mangled,
when the words lost their beat?
Was the common man strangled,
by the highbrow box seat?
_____________________________
Once weaved upon a well formed path
Before structure fell, in disarray.
Prose a casualty to a hectic world?
Precious time has claimed its prey.
Shall verse be trapped inside a card
Twisted inside an ad campaign
Power of words eternally scarred
Excepting in song, tinged in disdain.
Did amateur poets misuse their voice?
An internet pillage of chance.
Nothing to savour, digest and rejoice
Divide and subtract, but never enhance.
Will mankind once again enjoy,
subtle pleasures of the poem?
Will a modern poet attain celebrity,
as did the greats once held a throne?
*No offence intended. Just a thought piece
They call you Thalia, muse, your realm is comedy,
Though I have to admit that much of your humor
Is mostly Greek to me.
But we've been friends for years, since 1963,
And I hope, although, I'm no longer acting,
You haven't forgotten me.
I'm sending you this text now, please read it sans delay,
And R.S.V.P., "Jim, I'm on my way!"
Thala, be my muse for tonight.
You're the muse I choose to use for this write.
The stanzas are well-formed and lined up,
Now I need a solid wind-up,
So, come and amuse me tonight.
I'm begging you, please, one more time
'cause I'm really stuck for a rhyme.
You're a walking jokeapedia,
But I don't have time to read ya,
And I only need one lousy line.
The subject's rather controversial:
Is it okay to marry gay?
They're talking, pros and cons,
Quite a lot on the news,
But, are that many "cons" really gay?
Then, Thalia, when we edit this gem,
There may be one small item to trim.
There's a joke you may well weep at,
But if you laugh, we'll keep it.
Good reviews if you'll muse me tonight.