lassoing a porcupine isn’t as much fun as I thought it would be
the worst part is releasing the rope from something prickly like he
Wild Kingdom
every Sunday night
Marlin and Jim
traveling throughout the world
catching cats
lassoing llamas
herding hyenas
interspersed with insurance commercials
Mutual of Omaha protecting the wild and you
My favorite:
Snagging snakes
I rooted for the snake!!!
This Ravel Music
this ravel music
reminds me of old delicious nights
spent with dark- skinned linda
of canobie street
she was my night girl
my morning girl too
wearing lilac madness
a pursed smile shooting darts
projected by a fiery tongue
speaking words of onslaught and reprieve
of momentous embraces from behind
a bending dilapidated garage
she is digging deep
lassoing in
my incipient soul
masticating with a gooey tongue
this ravel music
reminds me of damp mornings
spent with dark-skinned linda
of canobie street
Super Souper 9-16-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Super Souper
Super Soupers wrangle rhymes
into verses quite sublime
Taming wild-eyed metaphors
into iambic strophes galore
Lassoing doggy ironies
with clever lines, entendre ease
Galloping alliterations
corralled by personifications
Silencing cacophony
with gentle mooing euphony
Bucking wild imagery
herded into symmetry
Stampeding loco thin illusions
bulldogged into chutes of allusions
Bad hoss herds of assonance
saddled for a dressage dance
Bucking broncos hyperbole
Juxtaposed by analogy
Anaphoras on loco weed
settle into quatrain reads
Super Soupers let words rip
in rodeos of craftmanship.
oh, the so-sublime motion of your sway
dressed in naught but the moon's wisps
sole fascination of the gods themselves
should Valhalla ever hold the refinement
to abide such flawlessly beguiling rhythm …
from heels to hips to dimpled shoulders
you toss your birthday outfit with intent
seductive swing lassoing my gaze, entire
the drift of your narcotic motion blooms
enough to best the Gardens of Babylon …
yet the whitest, purest blossoms known
would blush to crimson for the sole sake
of your unblemished, magnetic contours
the stairs and stars, swinging in tempo
to the dance of your fair and fluidic flesh …
pray these eyes, do not ever blink again
lest I chance to miss an instant of that
saucy, sinuous, room-sweeping saunter
pray this heart, do not ever thrum again
lest it interrupt your perfect ... cadence.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, October 18, 2019
Yesterday the mice had full reigns of the house
In every corner a set of beady eyes looked on
The rodeo of mice soon grew up to be a bad mouse
We tried lassoing them but all they do is spawn
Nothing could stop the womanizer to cease
We'd put traps and cages out throughout the floor
But the big bad mouse would steal the cheese
And look back at our family, laughing for more
The kids gave nickname to the king and queen
Their names were Squeaky and Freaky for sure
For both were noisy and ugly and kept causing a scene
Yet if only there was a cure to make our home secure
We needed professional help to stop the nightmares
We needed to escape the wild wild west at our feet
Please, please mice find another rodeo and musical chairs
For we plead in regaining our good dreams and be complete
The ordeal finally came to a screeching stop and blockade
For the pros came to our house and put out some bait
It may have cost dearly to settle, for I have paid
Today the dust has cleared and we have a blank slate
2/15/23
This or That, Vol 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Edward Ibeh
When words are running rampant
You just have to rein them in.
By lassoing a few of them,
At least you can begin.
They’ll buck and kick and race around,
Defiantly at first,
Especially the adjectives –
You know that they’re the worst.
But once you calm them down and let
The verbs and adverbs mix,
The nouns and pronouns may decide
To use their bag of tricks…
Releasing prepositions
And conjunctions by the score.
You want some interjections?
Hey! You couldn’t ask for more.
If all the parts of speech are caught
You don’t have an excuse.
Without a poem resulting,
You should go and let them loose.
So string them all together
And you’ll possibly succeed
In creating, from these random words,
Some poetry to read.
Fiddle, Faddle, Fart,
My brain is falling apart.
Tweedle, Twaddle, Dee,
Oh deary me!
Fanny, Dango, and Flirt,
What will go first?
Lassoing my feet with panties,
Just to be neat!
Slinging bras around breasts,
With renewed defeat!
Starting out all curious and gay,
Always cheering on a new day!
Now we are in reverse,
Amazed we made it to a new day!
Now all we have to do,
Is get out of bed and find our shoes!
I've spent my entire life avoiding
becoming a material man, the
tentacles of competition growing out
of my heart, fed by the springs of my
soul...
functioning as some mythical creature, lassoing
and capturing passing ships of my environment,
controlling my reach of eternal sea –
it is the disease of the spirit,
not to nurture, but to conquer....
Statesmen are not politicians,
the scourge of humanity
leaders are not dictators nor kings
missing a crown of thorns,
the crown of love...one cannot love
the world and God in the same heart
of experience...
to govern...to rule...
is to remain slave to your Body of Fears....
(We live within our lines (EXPRESSIONS)...tracks on our arms, neighborhoods, political parties, nationalities and wealth (which is thought to be safety and power -- what we don't do in abundance, is live WITHIN Christ's body -- a body of pure love)
Garments
Opened the wardroom’s door, suits and jackets worn
so long looked like sad copies of me.
Gave all my clothes to the salvation army, which gave
them to people not unlike me.
Too much textile is a heavy burden one becomes and
snug in old suits losing interest in adventures.
I bought a pair of jeans and a matching jacket, walked out
at dawn’s first light, began looking for a horse, failing that
a mule to transport me when I traverse the landscape
of imagining, I’m a cowboy lassoing dreams.
"We Are All Stardust - Milky Way" by JonMarc
I softly brush stardust from your cheek, and only an enticing
smile parts your lips. Your smooth skies, captivating and unspoken,
satiate. Like a distant galaxy, you are a mystery, lassoing my soul
with cosmic splendor. Near you, I am entranced. A celestial sparkle
in your eye catches mine, taking my breath, and I see more brilliance
than all the stars shining in the Milky Way.
Date – 6/13/20
Contest – Stardust
Sponsor – Nette Onclaud
oh, the so-sublime motion of your sway
dressed in naught but the moon's wisps
sole fascination of the gods themselves
should Valhalla ever hold the refinement
to abide such flawlessly beguiling rhythm …
from heels to hips to dimpled shoulders
you toss your birthday outfit with intent
seductive swing lassoing my gaze, entire
the drift of your narcotic motion blooms
enough to best the Gardens of Babylon …
yet the whitest, purest blossoms known
would blush to crimson for the sole sake
of your unblemished, magnetic contours
the stairs and stars, swinging in tempo
to the dance of your fair and fluidic flesh …
pray these eyes, do not ever blink again
lest I chance to miss an instant of that
saucy, sinuous, room-sweeping saunter
pray this heart, do not ever thrum again
lest it interrupt your perfect ... cadence.
~ 6th Place ~ in the "Nude Descending A Staircase" Poetry Contest, John Lawless, Judge & Sponsor.
Loneliness wears me from head to toe using
zipper teeth lengths of excruciating, debilitating
months that are capable of choking all my hope.
I feel lifeless as I attempt transforming into a bright
mood color with a sassy sash to influence an upbeat
attitude capable of playfully lassoing fulfilling peace.
There is but one thing in my life I wish would suck
yet, my plugged in, brand new vacuum will not work.
Sorry, I've not been around
But for Christmas time...I was Texas bound
I hadn't time for poetry
First time there...had much to see
Like longhorn bulls, in tamed stampedes
Cactus plants and tumbleweeds
Saw Dallas Cowboys and their fans
Then lightning came...made other plans
I went to see, a southern show
Bull-riders lassoing at a rodeo
Ate Texas toast and eggs with grits
Didn't agree, gave me the ..... (lol)
But all is well, and I'm back home
Now I've got time...to write a poem
Hope ya'll, had a blessed Christmas
Sorry about, your poems I've missed
But I'll catch up...I'll read the soup
Get myself, back in the loop
Get myself, back into gear
Wish ya'll...a nice New Year
Then see you after...in poetry
Swapping smiles...you and me
Sharing writes and sharing time
Thank you...dear friends of mine
My friends are my family.
Except....they like me, they adore me, they say nice things about me.
My friends understand that in a writer's life, sometimes I ignore their
phone calls, their emails and their texts.
If my muse is on fire, I am not a good friend.
My friends are my lifeline. They are always lassoing me in,
to gently let me know I have gone too far, said too much, or said too little.
My friends are the people I can trust to keep
the outrageous things I say, in confidence and
if they have to share, I know they will use generalizations,
not saying the who of it.
My friends are the up-standers, not the bystanders.
Even if we disagree, we still respect each other, love
each other and hug each other big before and after
dinner.
My friends use fantastic, optimistic, adjectives to describe me and
all of their other friends.
My friend s introduce me to their other friends, so I have friends.
My friends jump and shout and twirl and tell their friends when something
good happens to me.
My friends stand by me, no matter how rudely my writer self treats them.
My friends are my family.
Written April 24th, 2018
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