Roar loud, leone.
Watch closely.
Watch and witness the lion's new fangs.
This icky mud covered world is all I know.
You’ve told me nothing,
What do I need to silence you?
I’ve found those answers.
Don’t you dare get in my way.
If you interfere,
I will salt the wound.
I think you’re confused,
There is no group.
I don’t team up with anyone.
This is how I live,
hear me?
With fangs of a lion.
This is the difference—
between your resolve and mine.
Not taking the micky
Or being too picky
Appreciate was tricky
But over in a quickie
Reeling still feeling dickie
Travis gave us a hickey
Starc took the bickie
Our batters took a sickie
Snicks to slips & wickie
Tiswas all well a bit icky
so icky
so stinky
so gross
that’s what we were told growing up
i didn’t talk to them because
boys had cooties
he hits me because he likes me
he flirts by making fun of me
he talks about me to his friends
and says i’m easy
is this what love is like?
i’ve never had anything real
he pays for me
he opens doors for me
he worships me
why is this different
from what we were taught
these aren’t the standards i’ve been used to
is this love?
Bell re-rung
lit bag of dung;
no treat, so
a smelly trick
stomping makes
a foot quite slick
serves him right
the cranky old prick --
Horrid Ghosts
shrieking goblins
bloody sacks
creepy maniacs
it's all sick fun
Halloween on a
bun~ icky worms
and spiders -- backyard
pool with a couple
gators -- replacing
guardian angels with
starkly arousing satyrs --
a night of celebration
hosted by
the monarch of
Evil Contemplation --
The preacher's daughter picky Vicky
Went out one night with icky Ricky
Both her parents got mad
But it wasn't that bad
She came home with a sticky hickey
The summer was always so much fun
-- When we were young --
We'd jump fences and run through backyards
-- when we were young --
Boys were icky and really gross too
-- when we were young --
Best friends were forever and ever
-- when we were young --
A pinky promise was sacred
-- when we were young --
and now in my 60s I want to go back to
-- when we were young --
Epistrophe form ©SamHarty
"God"
IT is
icky
He or
She
maybe
am
BIG
uous
Feeling icky and picky and freaky and ty
Radiant as the Arizona’s shimmering sun before dawn
And what about you? Are you California’s mesmerizing moon?
Gentility grabs a hold of me
Isolated in my introvertedly enduring, illuminated, immaculate imagination…in my igloo of loneliness and despair and life is not fair, but it’s life I suppose…I believe I won’t grieve anymore…
Let me grow fervently like a sunflower against the sunshine divine
Emptiness is filled with joy at last! Finally, satisfied with myself for once in my life…
Oops! I forgot our anniversary
Because you've been too icky
Because you've messed up big time
You have not been fair or sublime
Sweet honey, I am sorry, I totally forgot
However, if you keep your promise
You will, without a doubt, get a whole lot
Of rewards and gifts and no mess
Next year
If you love me, I'll give you my all
My life, my breath, my heart and soul
Next year.
Copyright © December 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Steady Eddie was always ready
For meatballs and spaghetti.
Dan the man was a big fan
Of eating eggs with boiled ham.
Bob the slob was on the job
To chew away corn on the cob.
Mitt the git could hardly sit
When served a bowl of shrimp & grits.
Jake the snake, numb as a hake
Just adored potato and steak.
Tricky Ricky who looked all sickly
Finds it all to be quite icky!
Free from the frigid grip of winter's blow
we enter a time of hay fevers and colds
Though April showers help the flowers grow
they can be unkind, to creaky bones of old
The frosty cheeks of children everywhere
are pinned against a dirty window pane
The pristine snow of white has lost its glare
replaced by icky puddles and wet terrain
Spring, ...its not all about roses and shine
there are days when it rains and pours all day
She weaves herself around winter's entwine
and often leaves the earth too damp for play
I rather be making snow angels in the snow
then waiting and watching, for flowers to grow
Feb 24, 2023
Sponsor Michelle Faulkner
Contest Name Spring Is Not All
I am always glad
Cotton Candy in my hand
Wonderful memories at the zoo
Eating Cotton Candy both pink and blue
I always like to watch it spin
In the big tin bin
Building larger on the stick
Can’t wait to get a lick
It is always so sticky
Leaving my fingers all icky
Even though I feel sick
I need to have another lick
I was always taught to share
To show my brother I care
His face breaks into a big smile
Which lasted for awhile
The icky sticky squid-man
Squeezed from the water spout
Leapt up my nose and
Sucked my brains right out.
Dug deep inside me
with all his slimy legs
Inside my skull hole
He laid a thousand eggs.
She was a doll, but she did not like to be treated like one.
She created her own world, a world of fun.
She put herself into a cage and sneered and jeered.
The rest of the family ducked when she cheered.
She refused to wear clothes too; she was feral, our Meryl.
She is so delicate grandma said, a wonder, a pearl.
Let’s get her a giraffe, my husband suggested. I had no idea why.
But I went along with him, for he had a gleam in his eye.
Mr. G.Q. Giraffe was a gay blade, persnickety and picky.
He insisted on things his own way until things got rather icky.
They live in our house, but we refuse to deal with them.
Because they both do whatever they want on a whim.
How about a tiger? My husband asked me the other day.
That’s when I moved out and far, far away.
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