Needles of sleep still in my eye
Indigo dreams push, pass me by
Given the fullest bladder from hades
Have to run to the toilet makes a crazy
Teal thoughts of poetic bliss
Onyx night sky I’d be scared to remiss
Whites of my eyes turning red
Lovelies goodnight going back to bed
chattering chirpers
rambunctiously racing
fireflies like little lanterns
wee wind and raindrops
luscious leafy lovelies
nine p.m. and uproarious
all this called to me, as
I was doing nothing at all
He slips the noose around her slender neck
Cloaked and masked with heavy breath
He can't help but be obsessed
All the dolls hangin' around - pretty little lies that make not a sound
The poison of passion imagined as they are undressed.
The dead in their eyes is magnificent
Ivory skin - chill to win
Realm of the dark, lips apart, he just has to do it - again and again
The equinox of evil with the essence of sin
Is it vanity or insanity - his dressing up to lure them in
Disquiet Devilry and a sip of gin and the perplexity of the evil twin.
The morbid beauty of death and dying
The lovelies I have twirling in the twilight
Death has changed my life - the quiet peace holds the ladies and - I tight
The divinity of debauchery - death is not treachery
It's like an estuary of decadent innocence.
Dainty damsels dangling Breathless but fabulous
Envisioning slitting their throats as if they were flowers
Heinous and horrific the macabre abounds
A carousel of corpses, a ballet of cadavers, a symphony of death
Dazzling
The eloquence of the end-of-life - exquisite and eternal
His masterpiece just hang'in around.....
He slips the noose around her slender neck
Cloaked and masked with heavy breath
He can't help but be obsessed
All the dolls hangin' around - pretty little lies that make not a sound
The poison of passion is imagined as they are undressed.
The dead in their eyes is magnificent
Ivory skin - chill to win
Realm of the dark, lips apart, he just has to do it - again and again
The equinox of evil with the essence of sin
Is it vanity or insanity - his dressing up to lure them in
Disquiet Devilry and a sip of gin and the perplexity of the evil twin.
The morbid beauty of death and dying
The lovelies I have twirling in the twilight
Death has changed my life - the quiet peace holds the ladies and - I tight
The divinity of debauchery - death is not treachery
It's like an estuary of decadent innocence.
Dainty damsels dangling Breathless but fabulous
Envisioning slitting their throats as if they were flowers
Heinous and horrific the macabre abounds
A carousel of corpses, a ballet of cadavers, a symphony of death
Dazzling
The eloquence of the end-of-life - exquisite and eternal
His masterpiece just hang'in around.....
I lied, CLICKBAIT!
I only have but a question to illustrate.
Is a story nothing more than roleplay-
foreplay of poetry?
Fornicators!
Muaed, ...back to the blind date. My lovelies
In the blooming epoch of days,
the unlikely swarms have now come
their colors vibrant in sun rays.
In the blooming epoch of days,
there are no rules when nature plays.
Where on earth are these lovelies from?
In the blooming epoch of days,
the unlikely swarms have now come!
Aroused within me
Re-awoke as 'twere
Fine senses, fleshless ones.
Make one feel deeper.
All of you lovelies
Honourably blest
Hovered round, so rained upon
Tearily know this.
Blushing, for amaryllis.
More abashed, dearest!
into blue gardens
spurred by the beckoning sun
and fragrant lovelies
hydrangea bliss
too long gone, forget me not
sapphire cornflowers
songs through the grapevine
and irises navy blue
cobalt skies charming
azure clematis
a sense of what's been missing
lilac fragrances
Come sit with me, my darlings,
beneath this apple tree.
Come sit with me, my sweethearts,
Do you not sense? It's me.
Come sit with me, my lovelies,
all seasons of all years.
Come sit with me, my precious ones.
Come sit with me, my dears.
~ collaboration with T Kirk Tierney ~
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Two bucket of beers and a basket of chips
grinning I said at the door
how gracious to greet us so quickly
Never so promptly before
No aspersions toward La Luna
as this was our second time here
Spectacular chips and salsa
I was kidding about the beer
we leisurely looked at the menus
Ordered coke when they said out of tea
except for us place was full empty
Still nothing occurring to me
I told the man who served us
I'm going to do a test
My favorite Myan dish ordered
to see who had the best
Mamacita she pulled out all the stops si
beautiful delicious too
discussed how their entre differed before
Presenting the ribbon blue
They could not have been any nicer
A lovely place to dine
good food and warm smiling servers
And manners gracious and fine
As we walked to the car I glanced at the door
to see our distance from whistle bit
I could not believe they were closed
When we came and never a word of it.
It made up for every dry burger,warm salad,tepid soup
my faith in eating out again
La Luna served to recoup
The street where I live
is where rich people
have holiday haunts,
or investors have airbnb houses to rent.
The little old lovelies are
tarted up with a lick of paint
stuffed full of
period matching furniture
and nick-knacks,
to charm the socks off
the visitors flocking to
the seaside for short stays.
Mid-week outta the holiday season
my little old street is a ghost town.
Only 5 of 34 houses with lights on
at night.
On the week-end its party time,
with parked cars choking the roads.
The kind vacationers tell me
when there's a party on
across the road,
and ask if I mind the noise.
Fortunately, though unfortunately,
I'm deaf in one ear,
and so with curtains drawn
and good-ear down,
it's sweet dreams
and memories
for long-stayer,
party-animal
on the outta,
little old me.
DEPRESSION
How many times have I done this, lived all alone
I know that I’ll get lonely and pick up the telephone
I’ll chat and when they ask, I’ll tell them that I’m fine
Of course that’s what you tell them when you’re losing your mind
The silence is deafening, it’s ringing in my ears
Once more my lovelies, I’m living my worst fears
Being solitaire, forever in my dreams
Is not what I wanted, or so it seems
Depression creeps in, when you least expect it
It pulls you down the rabbit hole, if you let it
Fight it off my lovely, fight with all your might
Fight until you dominate and kick it out of sight
I look around me walking down the street
on warm May days, and flowers I can see.
So many lovelies – for my eyes a treat.
But they are not all in my memory
engrained, so how they look I can’t define
as well as flowers that I see each year -
like those that bloom right now, which are divine.
They are my roses, and for me so dear.
My teacup roses have a dark pink hue
while almost all my other roses are
dark red, but towering in plainest view
is one that has just bloomed – my super star -
the “Blue” whose color violet is rare.
I love to stand in front of her and stare!
May 20, 2021
For Brian Strand's All Yours (Jun 10) Poetry Contest
Now the end is near
Covid now is in second year
Still we live with the dread and fear
We're promised that the end is near
That freedoms on the way we hear...
Where do you go to my lovelies
When all the instructions are read
Do the boundaries astound you
Do you lie much longer in bed?
Are you lonely keeping distance
Have kids eager to be in class
Missing hugs with special loved ones
And loathe wearing a facial mask?
If one lives in an apartment
At least you can view the starlight
Those with a house and a garden
Can be out by day and by night.
When the weather is against you
Are you at a loss what to do
Do you get weary of reading
And watching television too?
Have you done so many puzzles
That you have now become brain dead
Does memory stray to old days
In dreams of the good times ahead?
3rd March 2021
The Halloween Cat
I am small, I am deadly
and fleet as the breeze
none hear me approaching
and not a soul sees.
With my claws razor sharp
and my bright toothsome grin
I will catch you, my lovelies
and gobble you in.
Oh the bats are so ugly
for such is their fate,
and yet seem so lovely
when served on a plate;
they glide ever faster
they flap round my ears.
I will catch you, my lovelies,
it all ends in tears.
My mistress is blessed
with a loud, fearsome laugh,
hair like a bird’s nest
and neck like a giraffe’s;
With wrist-dragging walk
and a terrible stare -
I love you, my mistress
For I know you care
I am small, so I fit
on the end of her broom;
we go out when the night
is as cold as the tomb,
and her terrible laugh
scares the fairies away;
We see you, my pretties,
we’ll catch you one day.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.