I have seven children
Wanting my attention
Whom do I love the most?
They would love to know
A difficult choice for me
I love myself, the most
Then, each part of me
In seven other souls
Each, my just reward
Gratifying my spirit
Raising my mind
I love each differently
Don't I have favorites?
My lot, to love diversely
Those who respect me
Ditto, those who mistreat
May we be blessed to understand
there is a treasured gift in life that doesn’t cost a dime.
This gift is as wonderful to give…as it is to receive.
This precious gift…is time.
adverbs dress up ordinary verbs
easily, quickly, confidently,
jokingly, suspiciously, cagily,
demurely, purely, delicately,
deliberately, justifiably, undeniably,
jubilantly, whimsically flippantly
they may be my favorite parts of speech
Sitting stoically
Two furry faces
Gaze upon faded photos.
Once cherished,
Hugged, wept over,
Drooled on
Forever friends
Now
Silent sentinels
Chewed ears
Button eye
Pablum stained
Guardians
Of a fading
Moment.
I asked the violets who they
Would like to be picked by
And told the tulips Tuesday
The violets were too shy
If I pick a rose, I hear
It may not pick me back
Thorns are there to warn, my dear
And someday they might attack
The lilacs find it laughable
That I would ever pick them
But I won’t damn the daffodils
For being willing victims.
So many more. Just a sampling of favorites, per contest instructions.
For each poet I have included a sampling of titles in parentheses.
THREE OF MY FAVORITES
Gershon Wolf
Gershon lands me in stitches.
In his wise and funny hands,
I can’t help but smile or laugh.
A grin happens, belly twitches.
(Sex Sells, War is Hell; Tingles, Twitches, Creaks;
Scant Solace in the Solstice, Old Bessie)
Caron Krutsinger
Caron carries me to Wonderland.
Her muse and faeries’ mischievous.
Earthbound - school, kids and pets.
Her quaint stories, written offhand.
(Sleeping Elfin Baby, Santa Puppy Begs for Bones,
Unicorn with the Rainbow Tail, Fluffy Fat Robin)
Evelyn Judy Buehler
Evelyn’s poems’ immersed in hues.
An imagistic touch of stirring magic.
God will gift her with eternal colors -
Not one of them, she will refuse.
(Clashing Colors, Scarlet Noon, Green Door, Moonlight Blue)
12/30/2022
Who is your best PS poet or poetess Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Opponents of the favorites
Have a handicap, for sure,
Since every error that they make
Just sets the crowd a’roar.
In tennis, fans are loyal,
Cheering those they love the best,
Which makes players ‘cross the net
Feel kind of down and even stressed.
As I watched the U.S.Open,
When Serena took the court,
I felt bad for those who faced her,
Getting zero crowd support.
I whisper
To my grandchildren;
“you are my favorite”
“don’t tell the others”.
They chuckle
knowing it is true.
John G. Lawless
©8/25/2022
Texas-style juicy brisket
grilled, smoked, keep meat moist.
Amazing Ribs and baked beans.
Potato salad
Ice cold beer and pop
drinks of choice
Yum!
6/28/2022
7/5/7/5/5/3/1
Whats Cooking On The Grill This Summer Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
The teacher gave gifts to those who were behaving.
Many other students pretended to behave
For about two seconds
Then they got loud, unruly, and disrespectful.
They began screaming at her
They were yelling about unfairness
They yelled that she had favorites.
They threw things at her head.
She did have favorites.
The children whose parents taught them respect
The children who behaved
The children who had home-schooling
Who can blame her?
I had a rough year in seventh grade
There was a horrible teacher who picked on me
He was awful, and made my life hard.
My mother sent me out to till the soil.
She gave me a package of marigold seeds.
I had to water the soil every day.
I was amazed in a week when tiny green sprouts appeared.
They got larger every day; taking my mind off school.
When the buds appeared, I was enthralled and enchanted.
Ruffled yellow and gold blossoms soon followed.
That was over fifty years ago, and marigolds are still my favorite.
They took my mind off my troubles.
Hark, hark, a meadowlark
What's your password
Feckless narc
I was sure I'd never see
a Woman homely
as your wife be
2B or 2C is not the question
Does your apartment
have a restroom?
O, say can you see
A bush where to pee
Too many beers have I had...
My Bonnie lies over the ocean
My Bonnie puked all over me
My Bonnie fell down the stairwell
Soon she will drown out at sea...
Donald Trump built a new wall
Donald Trump had a great fall
All the Proud Boys' horses
And all the Proud Boys' men
Couldn't insurrect Trump into office again
~ That's all, Folks! ~
You've asked a favor; you ignorant man
Your favor for what you won't do
Your asking me more each day
and definatly not to woo
So why have you gone this way
You simpleton hark of prey
When serving yourself this way
is hanging around post fey
That all of your troubles are you
when laziness barks right through
And saying you never can do
when others are looking at you
And all that you know is NOT
for swaying what you won't do
When using the others to chime
what laziness is right through
That telling you do your chores
is always more settling to some
When friendships can come to end
when everyone's tired of drum
When autumn leaves on tree branches disappear
And chilly winds spoil outdoor fun
The warmth of a fireplace beckons me to draw near
That’s winter to me.
When snowflakes blanket streets with a hush,
And snowplows, cars, shovels and rubber soles
Leave tracks and generate dirty slush
That’s winter to me.
When mercury drops bitter cold penetrates my bones
And I act to prevent colds, flu, and frozen water pipes,
My delight is in hot tea rather than ice cream cones
That’s winter to me.
When heavy coats, boots, gloves, scarves, hats,
Earmuffs, knits, mitts, sweaters, and wool gear
Make me feel like I’m hauling a bundle of baseball bats
That’s winter to me.
When smoke oozes from my nose and mouth
Crisp air makes lips chap, teeth rattle, fingertips numb,
Desire for warmer weather make me head south
That’s winter to me.
When days are short and nights too long
And Christmas celebrations have waxed and waned,
My prayers for spring to hurry up don’t seem wrong
That’s winter to me.
These are my favorites thus far,
but Gaia's known for Her beauty
and Mother Nature's a cutie.
Sparkles, trailing a shooting star
as it falls, setting skies ablaze,
a rare spectacle, nowadays.
And the pluck of a bass guitar
resonating deep in my heart,
as tears spontaneously start.
The rumble of an old streetcar
carries memories of my youth,
a time of innocence and truth.
And catching fireflies in a jar
is a magical kind of thing,
like capturing love on the wing.
These are my favorites thus far,
sparkles trailing a shooting star
and the pluck of a bass guitar,
the rumble of an old streetcar
and catching fireflies in a jar.
(Constanza)
July 30, 2020
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