Long Show off Poems
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Blackness falls on Hallows eve night
Ghouls and goblins go out for a fright
Witches and warlocks cast their evil spell
All creatures come out from the dark places they dwell
Carve a jack-o-lantern design pleasant or gory
Bob for apples and tell your favorite scary story
Pumpkins and cornstalks adorn their resting place
It’s the holiday of nightmares and the time to change your face
Treats for a trick to calm the demons desire
Heat your own brew in your cauldron over fire
Party with monsters until the break of dawn
Be naughty and show off your devils horn
Watch your favorite horror movies in between
Embrace fear fantasy fun and Happy Halloween
The Fall
The human race, a running gag to the cosmos
We have deluded ourselves into believing that we are infallible
But that would be a fatal, self-inflicted fabrication
After all, how can a parasite ever be flawless
Who is knowingly bleeding out the planet without a care
Silently suffocating the mother who gave us life
We have felled the green giants who give us air
To make places we can call home
Actively erasing the thousands of species before our time
And making them nothing but a distant memory
We have mined every vein into nothing but dust
So we can show off our greed to each other
We have willingly poisoned the ocean and sky
And for what? To better our lives?
Prophets have given warnings for us to stop our behavior
But we turned deaf to it, and so they gave up
Some were tuned to the prophets' words and fought to save humanity
But they were met with scorn and bruises, and they quietly disappeared
We, humans have unknowingly signed our death warrant
And the time for our deeds must be collected by all
Without any hope of redemption
As we are forced to watch those we love turn to dust
As we watch the silent consume us all
We are nothing but a monument to the cosmic
"She will reign on the cliff above the quay, this derelict house restored to her former beauty. No beast of the field, nor bird in the air shall wander her halls. Now she belongs to me." ~ quote by poet
As I walked along the cliff path early this morning
a fine mist seemed to enshroud the derelict home.
I always thought of it as if it was in deep mourning,
with its weeping willow's roots buried in the loam.
It had been abandoned when I was but a child.
I didn't know who had lived there, inside the walls
but I recall it always left me feeling quite beguiled,
wishing I could walk inside its fading carpeted halls.
Once, I'd peeked in a dusty window when I was ten
but Mother said it was dangerous and to stay away.
The ruins were haunted. I was not to go there again.
Twenty years later, she still sits, overlooking the quay.
And now, that I've returned to my childhood house,
my fascination with the abandoned home is peaked.
I brushed aside a cobweb and shooed away a mouse.
Carefully, I stepped on the porch steps that creaked.
Clapboards had fallen off; I recall they had been gray.
Bird nests were tucked between rafters and eaves.
A "Do not enter," sign was nailed across the doorway.
meant to keep out squatters and the likes of thieves.
I backed away and looked up at a broken windowpane,
as a seagull flew out, then swooped down to the shore.
Damage done by nesting birds and decades of rain.
Such a grand old dwelling, someone should restore.
I walked for a mile or more, thinking all the while
that if anyone's footsteps were to tread her halls
they'd be mine after returning her charm and style.
My hands would scrub, paint and repaper her walls.
I turned around and started jogging in her direction
until I stood before her with a smile upon my face.
"I will bring you back from dereliction to perfection
in a restoration to show off your splendor and grace."
February 7, 2023
Writing Challenge - D Words Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
~~~Second Grade Terrorists~~~
Chicago Public Schools
I graduated in January, happy as a lark!
I was able to enlighten young ones, no longer would
they have to live in the dark!
With my little blue Fiat, as sweet as candy,
I drove to a Chicago hood, to launch my life as a teacher,
I knew it would be just dandy.
Fate had other plans for me though!
These second graders had seven teachers prior to me.
whom they turned into playdough.
Such cute little boys and girls, I mistakemly thought!
But once the principal left, all manner of mischief they
sought.
Their favorite habit, if I recall, was sneaking out of their
chairs.
To show off their talents extraordinaire, writing pornographic
words on the blackboards with a flair!
Another was causing fights in a totally quiet class,
By mumbling to another~"Yo Momma, got a big _ss!"
Stealing another's pencil turned the room upside down,
Desks turned over, flying debris, I remember that class
With intense perfidy.
I was able to get assigned in two months to another
school.
Yes, in the hood but in this school the principal was
tough as nails, and never allowed any teacher to be
made a fool.
My days at the new school were fun and very pleasant,
I loved my years there.
Teaching was fulfilling now and hardly a bear.
In memory of Yakir W. Korey- CPS Principal. The Best!
Who saw the potential in each new teacher and was a
support, mentor, but never a critic! Thank you!
Panagiota Romios
5/2/2019
2:30pm PST
Imagine if our poop was a pretty pink
Or smelled like a dozen red roses
Beautiful music was heard when we tooted
There'd be no need for holding noses
We'd relish the thought of soiling our whites
To show off a new shade of pink
And proud to fart Ludwig's Fifth Symphony
While sitting on the throne by the sink
It can possibly be construed as a bit unusual
To be writing a poem about poop
But pink poop deserves special recognition
So let's all just let out a big whoop!
Imagine if our poop was a pretty pink
And smelled to high heaven of roses
We'd be so proud of our load of pink magic
There'd be no need for holding noses
© Jack Ellison 2013
As mother nature's blanket appears,
It's time to shut down and allay our fears,
The story book then opens up,
Full of happiness but sometimes tears,
Just like a flower in the morning,
Opening up to see the dawn in,
No anger or strife,
Loving the meaning of life,
Another day comes around,
Awaken, nothing on the mind, not a sound,
While the flower is about to open up,
To show off its prized Cup,
Not long before the world floods in,
The unhappy people around, start to sing,
The flowers dreams are made,
With friends a beautiful cascade,
So let's follow mother nature's Way,
And take the unhappiness from the day,
Take a look at that open flower,
Let's draw from its grand power.
He rode his horse side saddle
Across the rolling plains
Scarlet polished finger nails
Gripping diamantéd reins
A little cocktail hat
Resting on his head
Dingly dangly earrings
Sparkling ruby red.
This dandy of the cowboys
Dressed to impress one and all
Showing off his finery
On route to the Ranchers Ball.
Beneath his jeans he wore
Briefs, suspenders and a bra.
He’d baulked at a girdle as being
Just that one step too far.
Tonight was the Ranchers’ Ball
So what better chance
To show off his finery in
The ladies excuse me dance.
He was tough and he was macho
With no more need to impress
No more need to conceal
He need wear a lady’s dress.
And any of his workmates
Who laughed at that right
Had better be good and ready
To beat him in fair fight.
His heart pounded with pleasure
He wanted to scream and shout
This was a changing world "
Tonight he was coming out.
Have Gum; Will Not Travel
Forget it! I am not going five thousand miles just
To be bored and homesick. No.
And what am I supposed to do there, besides go broke?
What am I supposed to be looking at anyway?
Why must I take another banal photo at the Eiffel Tower,
With stupid me jumping into the air there like some fool
Who should know better? Paris is filthy! And everyone is mean.
Just like the people and places back home. No! I will not
Spend ten hours on a cramped jet filled with sneezing nostrils,
One or two of which could be terrorists just waiting to strike,
Ready to hijack the plane and drive it murderously into
something made of indestructible steel,
While my nervous stomach knots up with gaseous explosions,
Ready to strike the air at any moment,
worst than any terrorist contraption imaginable.
No! Forget it. Why would I want to travel to some other country,
Just to be constantly miserable and exhausted all the time?
“Okay, there is Westminster Abbey, and oh,
there’s the Thames River floating on by!
Wow! Now what do we do? Should we get a bite to eat?
And then maybe go back to the hotel and sleep? I am dead!”
Then early the next day we must catch a cramped train to Rome,
Where the people are crazy, just like the people back home,
“Okay, this is gnarly.”
My diarrhea is a cross between black oil and kerosene.
Why am I taking this picture,
another typical shot in front of the Leaning Tower?
Am I doing this to put on social media to show my phony friends
What a fabulous time I am having?!
Why of course. I didn’t spend thousands of dollars,
and endure all this misery,
Not to show off my wonderful times in Europe;
Truly a status symbol I treasure with all my heart,
But detested with all my soul in acquiring it.
It’s too cumbersome to carry my life
wrapped in a cheap garment,
nonetheless, it’s an embarrassing situation for me
to take the garment off and toss it away because I have
no well-built body to show off but a poorly shaped stature.
And that’s why I am wearing this garment against my will,
still worse, it’s my only garment.
As such, although I cannot change my garment
as each season changes with its unique color
I have an advantage over the young girls
who walk on the street vigorously but have trouble
selecting one favorite from many designers’ dresses.
Mannequins attract the girls’ attention
from the seasonally changing show window.
Since I have no extra clothes to change, the garment I am wearing
has an ill-appearance because it went through all kinds of weather imaginable,
it’s worn and torn like a rag, the color has faded,
but, darn it! What can I do? It’s my life.
As eventide surges into my life’s trail, every stray dog passing by would urinate laying against my leg raising its hind leg to draw
a territorial map of its own dog-man* autocratic domain,
yet, I have to accept it as a fact without a word spoken.
Now, I understand why I have only one garment.
I am a straw filled scarecrow.
NOTE: *Used as dual meaning: a country ruled by dogs and, the dog-like men rule barking at each other to keep power.
I have seen your sunrise,
What its ray's glee advertise...
From which interests arise,
To care my eyes eulogize.
I have seen your sunshine,
What naturalist duly assign...
From nature's own guideline,
To an altar day; both enshrine.
I have seen evidence; its look,
What beauty's hope can't hook...
From selfless acts, mind's outlook
To cook: taste, aroma can't rook.
I have seen wonder; its swing,
What influence holds to sling...
From value, kindness of king,
To voice's rhythm, words sing.
I wander with the lone cloud,
What modelling trap of you, wowed!
From its shine before crowd,
To its set far away time, age endowed.
What will sunset of your beauty be?
Will it be able to hold you to your degree,
With which you show off so free...
When time comes against its shinning decree?