Frisking Poems | Examples

Couplet Challenge Rhyme

The position of rest is with buzzing provocations,
Depict mind as it like, full of vibrations,

The pattern will not be drew to so easily
Let all winter our feelings from fire to the dale for water lilly,

Opportunity comes at ones through this pages,
Frisking frivolities edge to edge no matter rages,

Even a mother wouldn't be indulged with her offspring role early,
She became patient and let the time cover it enduringly,

If a nibble wanted to reach the position,
Must mimic mother's wishes for appropriation,

O! Dear friend surely I became still-stone
And hobbling to reach my flowers with a beacon.

That Happy Dream

Frisking in that saffron warmth
It came to me, and forgotten mirth
Once again rang in my chamber 
To the tune that just took birth
To quell this long slumber. 

I was still asleep, cold and dry, 
Barren as the nightmare’s sky,
When It came to me, that happy dream,
To once again answer why
I must wake and go down the stream. 

Gently It kisses me:
Stars sprouting in the soil I see,
And under that distant willow,
I find you calling to me,
And I come to you, with a pillow. 

The skies are soft and silken;
Their melodies to which we hearken
Lull us to a dreamy sleep,
And It comes again under a new welkin
To wake me up at another deep

For all this to transpire once again.

Oh, may this never end!
I forfeit my life to this dream defend,
For I do not know when
I’ll wake again to my days spend
Without a glimpse of this heaven.

Unassailable Purity

An empiricist gem,
cut many ways; lives
in my dangling essence,
draped over my soul.
The why— their hearts'
squeeze marks it up— 
while frisking for
a scar that's recent.

With the burned replica
of my fingerprints,
certain of the exact 
tone of my homage— 
sheds still no heated hate
falling for you.

Bloomings grow in our  
depth— acquiesce. Never
with their Nature
connected— left,
I am all my own
gentle power.

A pristine purity is all
that can assail my lips 
shut its afflictions of lust.
Though I don't pledge her,
the moon catches my real
gleam different times.

F Having Fun

forever fragrant flowers
freshly frozen French fries
frosty frigid French pie
frightfully frumpy frogs
F is frolicking, having fun

frilly frisky Frankenstein
freezing frivolous frazzled fried flies
fruitful frustrated frankfurter finches
fragrant frizzled frocks
Frisking friendly fruity F

flirty fleeting fishes
flaky, flashing, flaming flashes
flawlessly flagging flip-flops
floundering in fleshy, flaxen, fluff
Flamboyant F, flavored fruitfully

Clumps of Puppies

The puppies in Petunia Patch are pinching pumpkins today!
We wild ones ran down the road, yelling Hip! Hip! Hip! Hooray!
October sun was streaming down making the afternoon quite gay.
We laughed and jumped and whirled and twirled; it was a great day!

Which puppies do you think will show this time? Asked my Uncle Zeb.
The happiest, sparkle spaniels of course, said my eager cousin Ned.
We chased and laughed and ran amok, as we headed toward the field.
The puppies were frolicking and frisking; one held a pumpkin shield.

It is the Husky King! The Doberman gasped; he was amazed tis true.
The rest of the puppies barely noticed, tossing pumpkins as they grew.
Pumpkins landed with a splat, and the baby dogs howled their delight.
Grandmas brought pumpkin pudding, which lasted through the night.

The terrier puppies began to settle in, lollygagging in a giant pile.
These clumps of fat puppies made even the dourest of us smile.
Next year let’s bring the kitties in too, an eager fellow promptly said.
It was my cousin Twinbite two, who is as silly as Cousin Ned.

Yurt

Yearlong, we have waited,
yearning for vacation,
yet like nomads we dwell,
yon from city life, spritzed
yellow frisking through firs,
yielding to swift trail bends,
young, sleeping in bunkbeds.

6-13-2021
Y Plieades

Let Misinterpretation Remain Sparse

Human race, don’t boast on the casualty coast
Frisking, seeking, pricking and nicking the truth
On a continental coast as to your truth you toast
Sending to Coventry the uncouth

Pummeling the truth, belittling the youth
Whose views you deride
As your rollercoaster swings South
In the company of your petty pride

In tow to brandish the interpretation
You vaunt with no iota of shame
At the place of honour you accord to the incantation
You blurt in the claim

You push far above merit
Twisting the truth, alienating allies
Although the truth you fail to inherit
In the realm where lies and flies 

Sometimes cohabit
Dancing in tandem with hubris
Cultivated into a horrible habit
Which tends to increase

At sunup, at sunset
When the truth cries
Causing a major upset
As the zone of the truth decries

Sufferings the truth endures
In diverse fora
Where jesters ensure cures 
Arrive fast to prevent error and terror

From decimating puritan platforms
Preventing them descending into the farce
That demeans the truth in its multifarious forms
While ascertaining misinterpretation remains sparse.

When Life Was Really Child's Play

Oh, the stress-free, carefree world of children
O' take me back to the lil kids' playpen

When we tried on mom's cosmetics and lipsticks
and built playhouses with plastic blocks and bricks
And had fun with cooking set picnics

Anything could be a toy
and our racket could annoy

We turned everything into play things
We played pretend queens and kings

We then played 'mom and dad'
Oh the squealing fun we had!

Teasing, chasing hens and kittens
climbing the grumpy neighbour's fence.

There was paper airplanes
and frisking in the rains

Paper boats too were made
and hide'n'seek was played

And when that wasn't enough
we played blind man's bluff.

We nimbly climbed the trees
hair flailing in the breeze

But our child's play naturally mimicked the grownups
Lil plastic ones instead of real porcelain cups.

Life was all play and games
in our growing mental frames.

Sand castles and kites
childish fights and frights!

And kind parents just let them frisk and play
for all work and no play makes one a dull boy

The 'Fixer' Got 'Fixed'

Written By:  D. Collins 4/9/2018



The New York feds came in kicking in doors.
Frisking, then putting them down on the floor.
Snatching evidence and just about everything.
It just doesn't look good, from what I am seeing.



The "Fixer" got "Fixed" by the U.S. Attorney.
Trump quickly realized he may see a jury.
When did a raid become an "attack on the country?"
When will we learn where they hid the Russian money?



They both know what's coming.  Some orange jumpsuits.
A date with "Big Bubba" and the widening of chutes.
The "Fixer" got "Fixed" so he will be no more.
And, Trump has now become a casualty of war.

A Tear For Syria

The nation sprawls, prostrate:
broken limbs, crumbling bodies;
valley of vultures,
cloud of flies,
    frisking scavengers.

Victory throws a party for ghosts;
a once boisterous land—
now a silhouette of what was:
a land of the dancing dead.

The victor towers over rubbles,
wearing rueful impish glee.
He stands, stern, gaunt as death,
tightlipped; grim irony on a face

pondering the weight of victory
as soot settles after an inferno,
soothing the pain of death
paling the pants for life.

Civilization without humanity;
blood turns muddy,
red puddle, and bricks—
homes for ghosts
      in a land once of the living.


© 2017 Celestine Ikwuamaesi

We Forget To Collect Life

the eternal board is flashing
white letters on dark screen
destinations departures arrivals
scheduled greens
expected reds
delayed blues
frisking ffor the security of the
masses
collect your valuables he said
we forget though
life is the most valuable
we forget to collect

A Cocktail of Kaleidoscope

(ALLITERATION)
Cows milked: mitigated mooing in the meadows then
Weaving on the warp, some workaholic women

Harvest of hapless halibuts on hooks
Bookish book-worms buried in books

A palomino and a pony patter on the paving
Hucksters and hawkers hawking every housing.

Ravers out on the razzle raising a raucous razz-ma-tazz
Beavers busy building beaver-dams but about it quite blasé.

Doves cooing in divine chorus
Frogs frisking out of focus
Horoscopes are hocus pocus.

Tidal waves of tsunami treacherously tread
Sea-anemones scattered upon the sea-bed.

Geraniums genuflecting in jungle-like gardens
Hunters wary of wandering wild-life wardens.

All this when I ventured about videotaping
Nature's much nicer even with no landscaping

These are direly different scenes from different parts of the globe
Perhaps like a space probe's kaleidoscopic poetic probe

( this poem has every letter of the alphabet except x)

Destiny

Inevitable destiny !!!
So, why all this fuss is about?
so, why all this frisking is about?

Inevitable destiny!!!
Make you calm and sober.
It gives you silent sigh with tears.

Inevitable destiny!!!
Make you moving Paralysised.


So, **** off this things,
Kick the Doors of Heaven and Hell,
White wash the faces 
Those goddamn faces
Who talk about it.

Be a Hawk of Ted
Or prepare to be his male-tart.

Raped House

Is there a view?
In a rotten bed by the window
Where the crow sits all by itself 
Every morning and inspects the wasteland
Surrounding the edifice,
That once sheltered my wounded soul,
My mother
And no one else...

The vista of a forgotten life
Stood in front of me like a dead construction.
Exposed bricks, molested window panes
Cried hollow: The screams
Got lost in the shadowed hallway,
Rumbling the staircase;
Scaring the odd dried leaves
That made through one naive autumn..
I see the youth in me 
Frisking through the kitchen;
Hugging abruptly like an insecure child
An absorbed mother in cooking,
A kiss on the cheek,
And i was pledged happiness for eternity.

The vision sways away
Its swept under the rug of my crooked,
Bruised soul, that had seen and felt
The days' sorrow
The door is ajar, and
It is upset..
The disappointment in my betrayal
The bereavement in my indulgence..

The crow looks at me with astonishment:
I wished i was there when
My house was raped.

"rain"

We walk about bristly in the heat of the day,not knowing when it will happen.
Some watch mere predictions on picture screens before setting out to complete routine tasks;
but who is to say what will happen for the unknown dwells with us.

I see a beautiful  lady frisking her hair, wiping prespire from her mascaraed face whilst 
pushing a stroller along the busy sidewalk.
A dog sits in the shadow of a street sign; its mouth gaped in a state of exasperation.

Without warning it happens...........the first wave of attack.
An obscure lone drop comes down and taps you on your shoulders.
You look around feverously ...but see no one in view.
An audious rumbling is heard above your head sending everyone in motion.

The downpour occurs and  the smell of dampened earth cuts the once humid air;
The ground is filled with  myriads  of liquid  puddles collected in different  places.
Those who are armed hold up their array of colorful shields to fend off the heavy invasion , 
whilst those who are not,scamper about in astonished utter despair.

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