a satiric
spunky sperm
twisty tippytoe
through the
outdoor civilization
renewing fairway
to engorge
prospect goat
recasting stubble
noninfectious vibrational
hubbub pyrophobia
luridness hallelujah
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 3–9, 2026)
Why do you look at me so odd?
I am your own devoted Count Strahd,
and you, my alluring love,
are Tatyana, sent from above.
Come close! Give me a little peck.
Oh my, but what a lovely neck.
Just lend me a trickle (not a flood)
of your warm, enticing blood.
Your alabaster skin so fair
and your winding blood-red hair,
engorge my heart and make it thump,
as yours, does, crimson fluid, pump.
One day, by death's morbid greed,
you will carry my deathly seed.
We'll raise our children very well,
as they grow in Ravenloft's hell.
The Universe Is Always:
PERFECT.
Perfectly Balanced In
Energy Equality...
Perfectly Beautiful
With That One Only Rule:
BALANCE.
So What Is There
Not To Appreciate?
Beauty Everywhere,
Your Eyes Cannot
Look Enough
To Engorge Yourself
Over-Full...
BEAUTY.
So, Why Mess With It?
It's Already Perfectly
Balanced And Beautiful,
And Nothing Can Ever
Be Done To Change That.
No Matter How Hard
You Try, Or Complain
For A Change And Cry...
LIFE.
Life Is Change
A New Perspective
Upon Perfect Beauty...
It Has One!
A Perspective!
A Change!
DYNAMIC.
Quit Your Whining,
Stop Complaining,
Change Is Good...
I Hate To Say It:
No Matter What:
NEW PERFECTION!
OBSERVATION!
Change Is Perfect.
Change Is Good.
-Gray Squirrel
09-12-2025
"Life being what it is when one dreams of revenge," ... Paul Gauguin
Light seasoning dash a chain last resort
as zephyr courses an edged clement squeeze ...
sun gods and goddesses front more ... last sort.
Muzzled chartreuse turtles exhale teal seas,
fed cool streams persuade a lush verdant spree.
Cascading falls echoed balanced wildlife,
aground or in flight where heaven's decree,
claimants amity free beyond the rife.
Hawaiian spun air spells a differing,
abated Summer rains, engorge their Fall.
Ocean water's temperate offering
uncommon to most except those who call
these islands, their home. The tourists share cold
tales, saying here's paradise--we've been told.
Below are 14 footles, separate and distinct, with their own titles in bold font. A footle fest!
Sympathetic
Ben-Hur
Been her
Paving the Way
Guitar
Get tar
Muliebral Outlook
Female
Email
Origin
Sin's source
Seine's source
Borgana Interior
Driver
Dry fur
RN A Cappella
Nursing
Nurse sing
Comic Vowel
Funny
Fun "E"
Blarney Stone
Irish
I wish
Out of Time
Stopwatch
Stopped watch
Head to Toe
Dress you
Dress shoe
Canyon Carnival
Engorge
In gorge
Castle Restoration
Remote
Re-moat
Insomnia
Coffee
Cough fee
Beautiful
Sorry
Sari
2/8/2020
Poetry form: Footle -Just a reminder, a footle is a 2 line, 2 syllable trochaiac monometer poem with an integral title suitable for light, witty, pertinent, topical verse. To make it more fun, I also try to have the second line have a similar sound as the first line.
So there! Now you know.
i would gladly go hungry
on a full stomach
for you
i would just as gladly
engorge myself
on an empty stomach
to satisfy myself
maybe one day
we can both dine
on each other's bones
and live again
this time everything will be new
When Winter lifts some clouds with heavy rain
The ones that write ominous across the sky
That engorge themselves on heaven's grays
So much weight can not sustain this vision
Peoples eyes can only take in so much distance
Elements weigh heavy on the mind in Winter
Cold has no boundaries when snow comes down
Crowds gather at the fireplace in center city square
Warmth made from frozen logs and matches
They are the only light created in this misery
Dim as it might be
It is the only thing worth seeing
When clouds surround the city
Winter lifts some clouds in our direction
They may come but never leave
When fog sets in
Call forth the war
Call forth a cunning shroud of aptitude
Bring down the damnation
Extinguishing the virtuous spender
Thy father of darkness, brightness
Let me call forth the dawn of a new era
Bringing down satire upon the blaspheme
Draining their wretched sublimeness
Build thy father’s tower of the begetter, in submissive
A shield that withstands the hostile ill-natured
Thou shall remain unbreakable, Thou shall remain blistering
For they cannot counter
Thy spirit, thy last breath, thy essence shall not be swallowed by the fury and flames
The scorcher of the skies, the quake of the earth
Let the light you hold glide across the lands
Hear me now and engorge my words, so life of all ether can concord
Upon the heaven gates and upon the magnified perdition
The principle forces that you wield binds are hands creating elasticity
Bringing obedience upon enormous power
Purify the bitterness upon lost souls
To stand free, calling on a brighter invocation
It lies slumbering, deep in the crevasses.
Here in the perfect four of a kind family.
His flames engorge wildly within,
And so, unshaven, unclean, unruly, so strange.
This is a mind of many—not one.
The cracks sink deeper—ever expanding its grip.
All his sense of reasoning—flushed out
And so, the derangement of the beast is set loose.
It will haunt the futures of all who witness
The onset of the creature that only consumes.
All secure parental barriers shatter—utterly
Knowing it will never be capable, to hold itself back
From delving into the great seven sins
Like the devil’s fury, which burns all.
Unfortunately, all that would follow—the full effect
Would not be fully understood…
Till years later.
Dusk descending on the shore -
My eyes engorge themselves on orchid and wisteria swirls
which frost a blue-cake cotton-candy sky.
Peacefully, deeply, I draw in breath to savor
that special flavor of the sea. Its salty tang
delectably has mingled with the lime of my man's cologne.
Suddenly,the screech of beach scavengers assaults our ears.
Coming to claim our picnic’s small remains,
the gulls, through sky now glazed maroon, are shadows swarming-
dusk descending on the shore.
Written 9/19/2015
For the MIXED SENSES - Poetry Contest of nette onclaud
THEME: Evening
Green door healing
The green door beckons in the gloom,
old and battered, inside soon,
I brush aside the cobwebs grim,
and opening I wander in ,
into the darkened room,
big old yellow candle flutters,
casting amber light like butter,
as I look about the room,
my lady of the Misel-toe is there,
feathers scattered everywhere,
sorrowful in need of care,
vibrations needed soon.
Reaching forth in astral svelte,
my hands do hold her liver melt,
the unwanted parts consume,
begone black pearl from the loom,
engorge from the tree of health,
faith healer on this dwelt,
liver shining like the moon,
great faith can heal the self,
the poet knows the tune.
Don Johnson
BECOMING MEAN
Ingest, absorb
ASSIMILATE.
Detest, Maul, engorge.
REGURGITATE.
Revenge fueled aggression
Testosterone and hate. Never caring at all
Becoming the bully - Blindly intimidate.
Familiar Aggression family taught
Household hatred just the way I was brought up
Her embedded dialect,
Savored
I become a speechless stanza,
Craving her conjugated inhales
Hopped up grins,
Engorge momentary lapse of pre-judgments
Grandfathered seconds pass my retinas with
3rd eye epiphanies,
As she encroaches my textured tomorrows
How do I fly upon this gifted morn
When her lily-coated grins placate my Gaia wings,
Without uncertainty’s scorn
How do I breathe new breaths,
When her articulated verbs
Conjugate my silence
…
©Drake J. Eszes
You waited for this moment,
As if you were an incomplete salutation
You waited for confessional breaths to alleviate this finite evening
Missing its constellations
You wept for their sunflower touch.
A touch to engorge the gaps of your imprinted thumb
With honeysuckle madness
Dry
Another cashmere moistened parable
Hungering for ink-plated resolutions
You waited for their Haiku smile.
A smile condoning resilient waterfalls
Unto ocean’s distant memory
Aching for risky walks above coal-ridden tomorrows
No forest green pupils observing
The hindrance of time
You wished upon wishes
For blanketed convenance to warm aspiring, French kiss upon promised morn
You wrestled with downward spirals,
Uplifting loneliness from Heaven’s chasm
Lost
Enough
Regurgitated sobs reserved under no-name invitations
But, I...
…I was h e r e.
All along
©Drake J. Eszes
You called me "baby"
When your eyes streaked
In nudist dialect
Upon my strength
You begged to engorge
My palms
With cinnamon scented lotion
Taking me into melancholic forest
To sacrifice your shedding, virgin silk
With me
To have your way
It was imperative
That I brought you inches closer to God
As chastity’s ribbon
Slides down leagues below sea level truths
But, I
Refused to be a puppet pulled
By your G-strings
…
You implored with vehement thrusts
Of creamy, inner thigh
To turn my page
But, you never bothered to read
My table of contents
©Drake J. Eszes
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