An erotic stanza
with a sensual bonanza...
stronger than liquor
when the last line's a kicker...
hotter than vice
while brief and concise...
coming from all nations,
each with their variations
of ribald situations...
they're even kinda "juicy" -
with more info than a blue movie!
I'm no grump
nor one to dump
let alone mock
but I can't like or lump
a pudgy frump
in a frock
who my world don't shock
yet here's the kicker
as a chick
she'd be slicker
and not to deride
but if she'd lose a few
a pound or two
the sooner the quicker
on either side
she'd be bodacious
I'd be flirtatious
and we'd roll and rock
around the clock
Seventy years ago by the side of the road,
a baby was born in a hole, but not to code.
Instead of a heart, he has a ticker;
but listen to this - this is the kicker:
a heart attack won't kill him. He will explode.
In
other words
don't settle
with words~
not even
these words~
and the kicker:
there is no
you to settle
or not settle~~
No
arguments to
win or lose
with words~
words appear
as nothing appears~
The irony of aging is
You’ve worked your whole life toward
Retirement or working less
And maybe you have scored
A little nest egg, waiting,
Like a “You’ve done well” reward,
So there might be some treasures
That right now you can afford.
Yet some, like me, have also reached
The point where I am bored
By wandering through stores, which I,
At one time, just adored.
The kicker is that I could use
Some savings I have stored
To treat myself, but nothing tempts;
I guess I’ve cut the cord.
The Nature of Reality,
Or limitless sphere of space
Manifest in all possible experience,
Is by nature beyond experience
Since in this space there is ultimately
Nothing to grasp, and no grasper.
Sure, we can describe it,
But that is based on either hearsay
Or a direct realization beyond description,
Like trying to describe honey
To someone who has never known sweetness.
With the kicker being that we
Have always been the honeybee.
And so people talk, poets sing, and sages
Converse with the wind or simply grin.
The effect is everyone
Ends up hearing what they want to hear,
Each of us only able to hear
What we are ready to hear,
And even then we may only be ready for a hint
Of what will one day be obvious.
The Nature of Reality
Is unchanging, and so is always
What it has and will be,
And yet we change within this empty sphere,
Like a caterpillar, consuming voraciously
Until we are ready for our metamorphosis.
(9/27/25)
teen magazine came out in the late sixties
my mother bought it for my sister and I
every cover featured a blonde girl with blue eyes
she looked l like she surfed in California
Inside there were ads, ads, ads, ads, ads and ads.
It was a slick magazine with lots of glossy pages.
the items they sold looked enticing and necessary.
We did not have the money to buy any of this.
There were a couple of stories, and maybe a comic or two.
But the ads were the kicker.
They showed us things we never hoped to be able to purchase.
After a while, we lost our enthusiasm for this magazine.
Well first of you have to be black
So if your not sorry about that
I guess you're just gonna have to be believed
I know for once your not included
How does it feel not to be the centre of attention
I guess it must be hard having white privilege
Oh and also being favoured
And no I'm not joking
Anyways back to the point
Black girls listen up
So what you are gonna need to is just open your mouth
Cause they don't like that
They'll call you violent
Kicker is they hate when your also silent
And use that as an excuse to discredit us
To dismiss us
They do this intentionally
So people won't believe us
I know
How scandalous
You're also gonna have to just exist
Yeah this one's gonna be the easiest
To accomplish
Us living apparently really hurts them
So they are probably gonna do everything
To make sure our voices are ignored by everyone
Because who is society going to believe
I'll give you a hint
The ones who have privilege
Sucks don't it
Well that's how you know you're doing something right
Cause remember we don't want to be believed
I mean it really is just that easy
Because when you're black
You're automatically not believed
I dilly dally my way through a regular Monday
Icy rain covers my driveway by three o’clock
I slip and slide on it, weather reports come in
Monster storm is coming; the kind you get once in a century
My friends begin calling me
Do I have enough food and water?
I have enough to last six to eight months.
Also a hundred pounds of dog food for my two pony dogs.
Tuesday I awake to snow as tall as my porch
It is not bitter cold, but it is uncomfortably cold.
Wednesday is the kicker.
We are supposed to have more snow, more ice and fifty mile an hour winds.
My feet are cold tonight; I wonder how things will go in the morning.
Our temperature is going to drop from 28 to 16 degrees.
The interstates and highways around and through Kansas City are closed.
Mayor asks us to all stay home; schools are cancelled.
The electric company sent us a notice to expect outages.
Monster storm, you deserve a name.
I will call you Monster Helen after the meanest teacher I ever had
And the nicest teacher I ever had, both named Helen.
What the Dickens! Santa ain't wearing knickers
well his pants got caught inside the chimney
now here's the kicker...
Little Joe woke up in the middle of the night
and gave Santa such a jolly fright
now here's the kicker...
It was drafty there wasn't any gas nor heat
Mrs. Chump snored upstairs like dead meat
now here's the kicker...
Mr. C was 5 feet tall and wasn't a Clause at all
he didn't know how to rob Peter to pay Paul
now here's the kicker...
The real Ms. C owned a solar panel, Oh what fun
gave it to Ming Ming who flew like a Son Of A Gun!
now here's the kicker... Eh !
He burned Santa's pants then laughed, giggled, scoffed
but as Santa danced around the sun poured in the loft
now here's the real kicker...
Christmas was a blast now little Joe C could finally be,
toasty as a glow worm in a house built for three.
Merry Christmas Everyone !
Love,
From Santa's Girl :)
If you like Keanu, you’ll love The Replacements
‘bout an ex-football player who's into effacement.
Called back to the big time when A-listers strike,
it’s got some great scenes that I know you will like.
I won’t spoil the story, but the cheerleading’s hot;
QB Falco’s the real deal, and Martel is not.
Wiry Nigel the kicker will have you enthralled,
as will Bateman when coach says, “Go get me the ball!
There isn’t much action if you hoped for a gun,
just some hard-hitting football and 2 hours of fun.
----------
H/T to Terry Flood's Movie Night
I once lived with a yapping trash-licker
a two faced dead soul and side back kicker
she treated me like a tart~
I didn't like her rotting fart
makes my golden fringe cringe, and grow thicker..
She’s a noodle-haired witch..selling old fries
flying in over-sized panties, she cries
begging to be seen, she craps,
beware of her diss rap traps
I ain't her nanny to sing when she lies..
My young baby roo I love and protect
He's a bit of a kicker and a fidget
He lives safely inside my kangaroo pouch
With stronger kicks felt, ouch! I cry out.
As little ones do, he won't keep very still
For my body ache pains, the vet pops me a pill
Roo pushes and twists while awake or asleep
Power kick gifts, from his little long feet.
High jumper or boxer he could turn out to be
Up pops his head, his new world to see
Ouch! another kick; again to my ribs
A sudden spring jump, he's out from his crib.
Jumping, exploring, very much excited
In-out play; then back in pouch basket
Not one for climbing in or out gently
Always kick butting, my poor sore belly.
A grown boy now, he'll be leaving home soon
No more protection from mums tum cocoon
My ouch in my pouch, my baby roo joey
If human he'd win; gold Olympic jump glory.
"O" Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor Constance La France
Written 23.09.21
I can smell their fear
They head toward me in a mob
Screaming that I have to be one of them
I get small and tight, fitting into a shoebox
The box is kicked high into the air
My Uncle Dave laughs.
He may be the worst of them
I land behind a dumpster without my lid
We will find you! My grandfather screams.
Without seeing him, I know he is wearing overalls.
And white socks with work boots.
I am glad he was not the box kicker
Come out! Come out! Where ever you are!
They are chanting now. I stay still, trying not to breathe.
My cousin Sam sees me and winks. She is wise.
Knows that they can never do more to punish me
than I will do to myself.
She misdirects them to an open field.
The hair stands on the back of my neck,
I feel shivers down my spine,
Wondering if the punishing has begun.
I bleed INK for your need
I form the letters of your thoghts.....
I am the actual lover of paper....
With my adhesive power you win
I am the toughest weapon
For someone I'm the most loved
And for someone I'm the sad truth.
I never asked who you are....
But I'm not the stranger.
You attached the words using me.
You grab...without asking me....
You start scribling....
You start producing the beats....hurting me
Fix to your pocket...which gives me the delight
After turning around your huge fingers.....
You drink my life blood for your own life....
I am the forgiver and you are the begger!!
I sacrifise my life for your crown
Still...I don't blame.
Because there is a joy....being as the loveletter...
Weapons killing your enimies...
Great sound against the imperfection
Touch to my love.....
Wings for my aspiring buddies
Thorn for your red roses.....
And kicker of the boundary of your mind....
6/16/2020
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