Long Boogied Poems
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I was dancing and prancing
And singing whooped Dee Dee
Not realizing I was not alone
Until he opened his shirt to me
He threw out the mayo, some jam and some jelly, a real hoot.
I caught the chocolate milk in midair, he was dancing up a toot.
He laughed and winked and some ice fell down his crushed ice shoot
He was a rascal, a scoundrel and a womanizer to boot.
I have never seen a dishwasher who can move like you
he said holding out his hands.
The oven, his furious ex, reddened her burners and threw out some pots and pans.
We laughed and we swirled and we boogied and we dipped.
She threw out ovenware but The frig and I ducked every one.
I shut his door, so we could dance up a storm.
Refrigerator boogie was so exciting and fun!
Dishwashers are reputed to be the best dancers around,
And I was confident as we twirled, we were breaking brand new ground
The ovens burners were blood red now, the kitchen was like a Sauna.
I blew him a kiss and whirled away giving him back to his ex, so sound.
As they trotted through the the kitchen, laughing, their sensors lit,
I danced around them with a loud dishwasher's whoop Dee Dee
Now whenever the three of us decide to liven the kitchen a bit,
We dance cheek to cheek, and throw sauce pans, the wild three!
I went to a monster party,
At Castle Frankenstein;
With lots of food and spirit,
The fun kicked off at nine
Ol' Frankie did the robot,
I stepped to a jitterbug;
The floor began to quake,
We really cut the rug!
I moved on to a sexy witch,
We slid across the room;
I broke down in a two-step,
While dancing with her broom
I was jammin' to the Charleston,
The Werewolf joined in too;
Igor failed to fight the beat,
He danced without a clue
Dracula did the tango,
I boogied with the Bride;
The Mummy looked bewildered,
As we did the electric slide
I tap danced on a table,
Three zombies did the same;
I stripped down to my boxers,
They shouted out my name!
Jekyll was rather classy,
Wielding his futile pride;
When the music struck within,
He turned to Mr. Hyde!
The chandelier was shaking,
Skeletons hit the floor;
I danced to a rumba,
The crowd was wanting more!
Everything was peachy,
Oh what a beautiful night;
Along came the Invisible Man,
And started an awful fight!
He squeezed the Bride's booty,
Other ladies felt the same;
And when the dust had settled,
Guess who took the blame?!
Off went the music,
So long to our fun;
I had no other option,
But to tuck my tail and run!
Those who partied with me,
Were raising such a chatter;
The crowd was crying out,
"Put his head on a platter!!"
I aroused the little lady,
To an ear-piercing scream;
Hallelujah for a nightmare,
It was just an awful dream
Was it really just a dream?
A thought raced through my head;
"Honey, I have a question",
"Why's that witch hat on our bed?"
I had the craziest time at the Squigglehawk ball
all the Frazzlefairies were bouncing off the wall,
Jellyfunts were swinging their enormous trunks
as they boogied away with pongalicious skunks
Young Squigglehawks gyrated in the balmy air
wearing pink tutus but their fannies were bare
Their antics created a humderendous kerfuffle
Pa panwongled them all with his wangabuffle!
When their Ma vamished some rainbow gowns
the youngsters claimed they looked like clowns
But they adored their lush spinklerly violet wings
and pogo-loged as if their legs were on springs
Ma Squigglehawk put on a spingle spangle spread
with chumley corn spears and warm glitterpuff bread
Pa Squigglehawk had brewed some honeydew wine
it sparkled like silver moondust and tasted so divine!
I flange wanged in the arms of a fit frazzlefairy
but we had to part when the bong went hairy
The next Squigglehawk ball is Saturday at eight
I can’t wait to wange with my frazzlefairy date
Craziest Time At The Poetry Contest
Choice 1: Craziest Time At .......
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
179 Words
07/27/20
Is dance a metaphor for sex?
You’d think so if you knew my ex
(at least the barflies all believe
she’s hoarding something up her sleeve).
But what makes people want to dance?
An aural frenzy? True romance?
Would Hamlet, Shylock or Macbeth
ever dance themselves to death?
Strasbourg is the kind of town
that’s unassuming, buttoned down.
These people don’t let down their hair:
rarely reckless, somewhat square.
The year before a reign began
(that’s Charles the Fifth – the Habsburg man):
to celebrate Saint Vitus’ Day
a Strasbourg woman’s new ballet
was launched in Rue des Hallebardes
(a strange event in all regards).
Right outside her Strasbourg home,
a stone’s throw from Strassburgerdom,
one Frau Follea hit the street
(and man, that chick could move her feet!)
We don’t know what her motive was:
perhaps she did it ‘just because’.
Did she deserve the looney bin?
No - other folks were joining in!
With twisting torsos, poor and posh,
the city streets were soon awash.
Without the need for record player,
the followers of Frau Follea
bopped and boogied through the night,
as hot as Rhineland anthracite.
Did scruples sting at morning mist?
Did conscience prick them to desist?
Did people halt their hellish dance?
Not one mosher! Not a chance!
On they conga’d, rocked and rolled,
oblivious to heat or cold.
More Alsace dusks, forever amber,
reverberated to their samba.
The local grapes are full and juicy:
the people step a mean watusi.
There’s such a thing as civic pride,
but this lot cha-cha’d till they died!
Housewife, beggar, baker, barber
were parties to the danse macabre.
Was their motive pleasure? Fear?
Penance? Sydenham’s Chorea?
The reason for the quick-quick-slow
I don’t suppose we’ll ever know.
On the ice where the cold winds blow,
A group of penguins put on a show.
With flippers that flap,
And feet that tap,
They danced in the moonlight's glow.
In tuxedos black and white,
They waltzed all through the night.
With a slide and a glide,
And a spin to the side,
Their moves were quite the sight.
They boogied to the beat of the drum,
Twirling on icebergs just for fun.
With a hop, skip, and jump,
They would thump, thump, thump,
Until the morning sun.
So if you ever feel blue,
Just think of the penguin crew.
With a dance and a prance,
In their icy dance stance,
They'll bring joy to you too!
We clustered on the dance floor
At the edges, though we danced.
You might have missed us if
Into the room you'd quickly glanced.
The energetic dancers
In the middle of the crowd
Jumped and boogied in stilettos
To the music pulsing loud.
Our old moves were more subdued
And, although we sang along,
We were clueless to the lyrics
Of each recent top-hit song.
While the parties were grooving,
Beaming smiles on every face,
Some of us still did the cha-cha,
Which looked sadly out of place.
At a dear friend's daughter's wedding,
Buddies of the groom's and bride's
Danced exactly like we used to
While we watched them from the sides.
At the last day preschool picnic
There were blankets on the grass
Which the tots ran over freely
If that way they had to pass.
There were pastel-frosted cupcakes
(Health food banished for a day)
And the slides and sandbox filled with kids
In joyous outdoor play.
But the draw for my two grandkids
Was the singer with guitar
For when music's in the air, I know
They won't be going far.
So as Henry spun and boogied
And his sister bopped along,
I was grooving like a back-up singer,
Knowing every song.
Three days back I was in Venice
And the vistas were entrancing
But there's nothing that looks better
Than my grandkids when they're dancing.
His voice pulled her into the dream...
"You are a fan of Strictly, right?
So wear a swirly twirly dress.
We're going to a dance tonight!"
The night kicked off with lively beats
Some Charlston and some Jive.
As they began to synchronise
They never felt more alive.
There was a pivot in the music
A change inside this zone
Their care-free fancy night of fun
Took on a deeper tone.
Up to now, they boogied at arms reach
This tune called for closer proximity.
Toe to toe, heart to heart, locked in embrace
Melting in to their new found intimacy.
Once again the style had changed
Neither felt prepared for the next number.
They opted out and had a drink
During the sizzling snake-hipped Rumba.
A Waltzing melody sounded out
So they took to the floor.
The world around them disappeared
At the build of their amour.
Her eyes reflected back to him
The flames of passion that filled his.
Could this be their opportunity
To share true loves first kiss?
But there was hesitation.
A shy awareness overcame her.
He softly smiled as she looked up
His fingers followed the waves of her hair.
When they leant in for their first kiss,
This lady and her man...
She woke up feeling really annoyed
Because her bladder had another plan!
The heebie-jeebies came by to play.
I promptly shooed them straight away.
Come on they said as they jiggled and jived.
But my long-awaited guest had just arrived.
Hey! What is happening? She asked with pure happy.
It’s the heebie-jeebies, kind of fun and sappy.
I recognize them now! She said as she began to dance.
We have them back home in England, Spain and France.
We danced down the sidewalk, onto the round moon.
We boogied so hard, my chest began to quake and swoon.
Heebie-jeebies said “Hey, folks, let’s go to Saturn!”
We shimmy shook; a pretty sweet dancing pattern.
Another dancer asked, “Are we limited to one universe now?”
Heebie-jeebies said “Come. You’ll think this is a wow!”
We jiggled our keisters all the way to another galaxy.
This is how dynamically persuasive Heebie-Jeebies can be!
I was movin' and a groovin'...
At my high school dance
Twist'n and a bump'n...
Wear'n wholly pants
The band had played some music...
I was feelin' kind of stuck
When I saw the kids a dancin'...
To the disco duck
I had to think of somethin'...
Had to show off a little muscle
So I boogied to the middle...
And I twisted to the hustle
In my cowboy boots...
And my hair all curled and long
I tied it in a pony-tail...
As I danced to ev'ry song
I really set the tone...
When my heels had started click'n
When they played some funky music
And I did the funky chicken
(The dances- Twist, Bump, Disco Duck, Boogie, Hustle, Funky Chicken)
3/9/2020
"Kim Rodrigues' DWM Contest