The basilisk, that feathery serpent, shalt zeal and mealy diners shall burn the fat livestock until englutted but this arrowhead does not deter unless one such valiant god strums that homage to be paid in ringlets, like golden peaks that drip flaming golden wax, the climb is taxing but preeclampsia is not unmatched.
the menu said cocktail served with an umbrella and duck
I’ll have one of those, said my neighbor, mealy-mouth Tuck.
They said two was a special, so he said “two it will be”.
Bartender could not count, so they actually brought three
witch’s cauldron had bit of a hiccup today
ghosts and goblins laughed about it a bit
Halloween humor lives beyond the fray
Dracula’s ghost appeared with a happy hey
some of the warlocks and wizards had a fit
witch’s cauldron had a bit of a hiccup today
a whisper left my arm hairs straight up in a way
who was this entity? Was I now a half-wit?
Halloween humor lives beyond the fray
My feelings were macabre, peace now at bay
Scared now, I found a cubby into which to flit
witch’s cauldron had a bit of a hiccup today
A low growl left me without anything to say
teeth marks in my arm resolved my grit
Halloween humor lives beyond the fray
my ashen face was probably a mealy gray
this cave like place was dimly drably lit
witch’s cauldron had bit of a hiccup today
Halloween humor lives beyond the fray
Assuming no war we fought
to name our country
Nigeria is no war we
fought to know how tis perhaps let say all the wall is
frosty.
If tis monger or thirst
why not bother the hoi or at least the mealy bug
in the farm or the flag not irrgla?.
If tis jokes or riddles
why not wish to keep up with the fun
or perhaps carry on adventures
towards great tomorrow O comrades!, towards great
tomorrow O comrades!, towards great tomorrow O
comrades!, towards great tomorrow O comrades!,
towards great tomorrow O comrades?.
they found altierrium there!
so much to share
everyone's there
hurray they say!
ya'll stop and stare.
personality and I like it
I like it
alterrium
alterrium.
Bee eh, bee eh,
Bee Are eye dhee eh!
yeah
Be are eye de ehee
yeah!
yeah!
yeah!
dhey caul hurr
mealy jawbone
she could swallow the
biggest plantains round
about the island
presonus
tascam
clarlay
and stuff
alterrium, alterrium
nightrait
le' chixen Mousse
swig,swig
ooh, ooh!
mellow, mellow
alterrium
allterrium!
She needs a new familiar, she is frightened of black cats.
This was told to them by a wizard named Charlie T. Matts.
No one believed it, for she was a powerful witch after all.
It is true, agreed a nonbeliever, seeing her hiding that fall.
She was behind a birch tree, as cats paraded by in masks.
Some of them were mealy mouthed, focused on their tasks.
They scare her to death the now believer told the others.
She needs to be straightened out said both of her grandmothers.
The gnome wizard is proud of his transmogrifying hat.
Through telepathy he can cajole it to turn into a cat.
Or a dragon, an anaconda, a worm, a mealy mouse or rat.
The only thing he does not ask is that it turns into a bat.
A bat gets stuck in his hair and makes him sneeze.
Disentangling a bat is not easy, not any kind of breeze.
He might consider it if it is below zero, and a freeze.
For if he wore a hat he might get rid of him with ease.
Kitty Cat and Freddie Dog were on a merry jaunt
They were always together, a compatible pair, jocund
As they strolled along, they had found
In one corner of the compound, a raised mound
Curious to know what was hidden underground
Freddie Dog sniffed and smelled all around
He started digging by and by and had found
A mouse living silent, home bound
Freddie persuaded him to come out to the ground
But seeing kitty cat, he was afraid to come around
He thought they were planning to surround
And feared, cat would jump on him like a hound
To dismal thoughts, his mind was bound
And in terrible agony he was drowned
He knew a cat was a rat’s enemy, renowned
Right at that critical moment, their master did descend
To take them home, not allowing them to hang around
Mealy mouse so relieved retired to his home underground
Placed First
April.21.2022
Nursery Rhymes . 3. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Eve Roper
Happy Hour is one drink short
of a buzz,
I try to determine the moment
it all went sour.
I’m looking into the empty glass
wondering where the ‘happy’ went,
did it dissipate on a curling lip
or a sigh?
I find the remote in the back of my mind
where remoteness lives and has its bunker.
It’s been a tough past year, and we’ve barely sipped
this new one, bad joo-joo everywhere.
what with all this apocalyptic crap going on.
Occasionally a camera will capture a look
in a strangers eyes, and I see my thoughts there.
We are all lonely inside our eyes I guess.
The barkeep picks up his tip and nods to my fading presence.
The taxi home gets lost between Reykjavik and Lahore,
we all arrive just in time to watch the day show up
on the 6 o’clock news.
Body counts and empty faces talking through mealy lips -
time for another drink.
(a turtle creation story)
Turtle flexed his jaws
as hard as secateurs.
Monkey-See saw
flew up the slippery trees
mimicking
the snapping sound
above the mealy ground.
It was the first Saturday night
and most of the good things,
and most of the mischief
had been sown hours before
but monkey-see knew there would be more.
Fishnet Tights,
the first last-born lady
was crying softly
not knowing why she was weeping and wet.
Her buttery bosoms heaved – we the proto
air-breathing zoo-lings all saw
and most of the swarm grieved
through their embryonic nostrils.
Turtle explained her woe
by opening wide his scything mandible.
When she looked down in it,
Fishnet-Tights saw, red and chortling,
in that ancient maw
his bobbing Adams Apple.
It was then that she became with kids
those troubled knuckle-heads,
the fabled Cain and Abel.
Monkey-See let out a howl
that flew from tree to tree top.
All the scaly birds knew
something big was up.
Turtle winked,
then slept for an eon or two
until all the zoonotic creatures
plumped up - and grew.
Let’s make a meal out of this mountain I said to Clouth.
With a giant goat gulp I had a boulder in my mouth.
Which I thought would be fun until things went south
And my teeth began to crack and break and fall out.
Clouth thought it was a competition, so he chomped on a tree.
Spitting out teeth and splinters and yelling “whoopee!”
That is what I get when I travel down the blue sea
With a crazy, crabby, cranky, mealy-mouth chimpanzee.
The children we were with began racing around
Tasting all the stuff they could reach on the ground.
The meal was earthworms, mushrooms, anything found.
The mountain rolled his eyes, and said “Stop kidding around!”
As meals go, this one was surprisingly fast.
Of course dandelions, and daffodils never do last
When you are a mountain goat with the largest mouth
After we were finished, we moved our meal to the south.
A group of ASTRAL entrepreneurs formed a PERNICIOUS ENTERPRISE.
The group would TRAVERSE the universe in search of worlds comprised
of mealy-mouthed, self-serving, indecisive cretins.
They believed the cretins, foul as they were, would be easily controlled.
They also wanted to steal the VISAGE of the more attractive cretins, believing that they would be able to use this visage on one of their own to act as a SENTRY in each of the worlds that they wanted to include in their conglomerate. They believed the sentry would spy from within and DAMPEN the defenses of their adversaries during negotiations.
They were thwarted, however, whereupon coming to Earth they
discovered that their planted sentry had become a double agent
and had warned the Earthlings of their plans. The Earthlings easily
defeated the entrepreneurs’ and placed a BLEMISH on their list of
targeted acquisitions, sealing Earth’s autonomy.
So, I heard you don’t like my poetry style
Well, I don’t give a toss
It’s water off a turtle’s tush…
(Forget the duck cos it's too cliché')
Who are you to judge what’s right or wrong?
You take pride in pointing out other's mistakes
with your mealy mouthed sarcastic comments
Those little digs you like to shovel
droning on about proper meter and form.
Well buster, I'm gonna shout it out
so get this straight cos I'm making it clear.
You may think you are the next poet laureate
But I'm going to tell you the truth...
You’re a self-righteous bore
whose opinionated ramblings are just a rant
by someone who thinks they can write
but quite honestly... can't!
Opinion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumman
06/25/20
Cuddling Caress
By M. Griswold 06272020
Cuddle close the one that loves you oh so tender
Hold softly to heart those emotions of this sender
For they are passions that can never ever be bought
And come from one who's battles are hard won, fought
Nestle near these words given in love so deep, freely
Devour with understanding of heart their seedy mealy
For they are the children of my pure, true loves want
In hopes to be always treasured and never to flaunt
Yearn with fever for my touche’s feel of gentle pressing
Long with hope for my closeness's loves rich dressing
Live for our love with a fire of desire's youthful zest
For it offers you all of it’s all in me, a true lover's rest
Morning brews sunrise colors-
yolk yellow seeping over
edges; light sterling silver
strung; rubbed linens ironed
across the rim. The creatural
world-a lime olive, sea blue
cup- has a view from space:
mottled tints- mud grey, green. Deep.
Sienna red flames bedewed.
Aged worn cotton tinctures-
the crumpled fabrics' wrinkles
are mountains, hills, cliffs ingrained.
Threads netted- the indigenous
lives captive-evolution.
They tat the stretched skies, royal.
From beats the animus- birth;
sprouting; feathery gardens
open to the sun. Roots plow.
Volcanic lands thrust- beryl
hues are the telluric gloss
of... diamonds. Hope. Pearl flushes-
scents of the wash of Summers.
Peach -brown malts- inebriation
of puissance. Grains reaped, ablaze
in Autumn afternoons. Stoked,
ground into mealy givings.
Marl nectare, fertility.
Corollas of heaven- O'Keefe.
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