Prettied Poems | Examples

Norest of Ying Ying Forest

deep in the underbrush of the ying ying forest
there is a path of posies and a faerie named Norest.
Norest has prettied up her home with window boxes, each with a lily.
Her home has fluffy comforters, warm tapestries, and a parrot who is silly.

Once a year she holds an autumn tea for her favorite people.
They play finger games like “here’s the church, and here’s the steeple."
Norest is a hostess who bakes tasty pies, scones and fruitcakes.
Sometimes she adds banana splits and berry power shakes.

No one wants her smoothies, they are orange and green.
But if we are going to honor a hostess, in Ying Ying she is the queen.
Unfortunately, her parrot can be beyond silly, sometimes he is mean.
Often her guests run out screaming, never again to be cherished or seen.

Just Bee-Have

Well, darn--I wish bushes grew faster.
That might help me avoid a disaster.
What is a buzz-maestro supposed to do
when a Hummer takes nectar from you?

I've buzzed by all my usual haunts.
They're out of stock--what about MY wants?
When nectar comes in, price is sky-high.
(I think it's price gouging, between you and I.)

What can a bee drink and hold his head high?
Something else I'm now bein' forced to try.
Say--here's a glass prettied up like snow.
I'm calling Buzz and Sting--we'll give it a go.
                          * * *
Now Buzz is dive-bombin' and then crashin'.
He's pretty funny but could get a thrashin'.
Sting's gone crazy, flies around upside down.
That witch's brew made them come unwound.

We're flying off before it becomes night.
Man, if they aren't a pitiful sight!
Guess I'd better start actin' all grown.
Maybe even talk that Hummer into a loan!

May 25, 2022
for Bee Creative Poetry Contest
by Matt Caliri

Instagram Esteem

Virtual peace is a tempest
Filter flipped image betrays
Surreal people can tempt us
Validity is a mirrored maze

Fake befriends us flimsily
Roller coaster emotion cued
Midday in minutes celebrity 
A million likes acrewed

Instagram's grimy agenda - 
Tempting tid bits to imbibe
Sponsor is content moulder
Trends with which to abide

Facile images wrap wanting 
In flashy eyesore cellophane 
White smile wide so taunting 
Sells prettied desires innane

Improved self hovers inticingly
Unscrupulous spruker won't refute
Product spin drips like rotisserie 
Placed tastiest low hung fruit

Bamboozled by the beautiful 
Venommed vast eyed viewers 
Suck insta famous inflated ramble
Screen sheen sugar allures




13th August 2020

Breathless

Depression is my only friend
But don't hold your breath
My writing is paper thin
Like the skin on my body
A paper cut could end it all
But I don't fear the fall
I fear the aftermath
When people tell prettied lies
Of how good I was
Because like a bag of tea leaves
I've steeped in the heat
Causing the water to turn black
It was there I suffocated
Nobody would ever know
But don't hold your breath
Death saved me from myself

Fun Days With Dick and Jane

With a resourceful and older brother,
My early childhood was so much fun,
Such as being drawn in his red wagon,
And sledding in the late winter sun!

When I was just learning how to read,
I had to choose the only book I could,
And sitting in the sunset, I prettied,
As everything awash in radiance should!

How Dick and Jane laughed in the rain!
Playing with Spot and Sally and Puff;
Bright blossoms found their new domain,
And there could never again be enough!

Homemade kites, marbles, and sunbeams,
And wintry snowmen with button eyes;
The scene was set for lifelong dreams,
Like the endless quest of butterflies!

Such fun I had with my very first book,
In the barely fluent, nursery rhyme days,
Under the pink clouds in my emerald nook,
That fruitfully abounded in golden rays!

Ode To Heathens

Ode to Heathens
For Bob Atkinson

Tree bark never minds
that it is not smooth,
or is peeling,
or bears the scars of two stranger’s names;
It stands against the wind
and lifts its leaves to the light.
Trees never fret
that their limbs are not set straight;
they flower;
they fruit;
they invite the nest,
and give rest to weary birds,
and aren’t their twisting branches singing?

Wildflowers are still g ay and bright
though the caterpillar has left some grateful holes in the leaves and petals.
The bees still come;
this is where honey comes from.
They still enjoy the wind, the rain,
no roof to block the stars.
They still have their roots,
not prettied and removed,
gathered in the wells of crystal coffins.

Have you ever seen the ground
glitter with scattered crystals
brought fresh from the mine,
uncut, unpolished, unset,
that make the sun laughing-shatter
and sparkle on the ground with joy?

What then
if a poet reaches for the light with twisting lines?

All these heathen things,
where do you think art comes from?

Good For a Chuckle

Well, if for nothing else, I'm good for a chuckle
You can count on me before you remove your stubble
Okay, ladies, this doesn't mean you
Means before getting prettied up, woo hoo
But take care, too much strain on the giggler is not advisable

Don'T Be Afraid

An opinion falling like rain
Cascading over everything
A center point of chaotic felony
Delete your voice
They're coming for you again
Pound the pavement
Pound on the walls
There's nowhere to go
They know the way it flows
Paste pastel words over your mouth
When everything goes south
Those words aren't your own
They're prettied up lies
Spat by the callous kind
An intricate existence built up
By a foundation of broken verse
A wobble here and a wobble there
Everything is falling apart
There's nowhere for you to restart
Dodge the bullets, dodge the train
Your chest erupts in pain
Perhaps all this was in vain
And you'll slowly go insane
The words are falling all around you
Drenching your clothes and your mind
There's no escape from the apes
So tape over the paper cuts
Blossoming in your heart
Just don't be afraid

Good For a Chuckle

Well, if for nothing else, I'm good for a chuckle
Each day you can count on me, before you remove your stubble
Okay ladies, this doesn't mean you
Means before you get all prettied up, woo hoo
But take care, too much strain on the giggler is not advisable


© Jack Ellison 2015

Bruce Played a One String Bass

Once was a folk singer back in the sixties
It was surely my time to shine
Along with the great Peter Paul and Mary
They seemed like good friends of mine

A group of six, The Canadiana Folksingers
Appeared on Canadian TV
A couple of albums and two or three shows
Played banjo, sure looked geeky

Hi Jolly was our biggest success
Wherever we went they clamoured for it
Did I tell you Bruce played a one string bass
It added some charm I'll admit

Wife Linda was one of the two girl singers
Sure prettied up the group I'll say
Didn't make much money but that didn't matter
The joy hasn't left to this day

Not everyone can say they were part of a group
Twas a very special time in my life
Wish I could go back and relive it again
A great time for me and my wife


© Jack Ellison 2015

And, He Loves Me

And, he loves me,
with no make-up on.
Locs a mess, jeans & sneakers,
my shirt.....is anyone's guess.
And, even though I can't see it,
he tells me that I'm beautiful.
And, even when I get 
"prettied up" for him,
it never feels the least bit "dutiful".
And, that's why I do it...
'cause I don't have too.
He's not highlighting a rule book,
thumbing through pages,
to take a quick look,
pointing out flaws,
to keep my confidence shook.
And,...YES!
I AM! I mean...
I WILL!  I mean...
I DO! take this man!!!
To have and to hold,
through whatever unfolds.
I'd have to be crazy not to!
Thinking about it now,
I could break out in song!
But, if you ask me "Why him?",
I'll try not to sing.
I'll just simply say,
"He loves me, with no make-up on".

Life In Cubicle

The Noose is tightening.
The 5’s and 10’s yanked from our hands and aching backs 
Are spent on band-aids:
A last stand effort to plug the holes in our hearts
When the price of drowning is only getting higher
So we turn to tiny acts of thievery
Taxes prettied up, cashiers uncorrected,
Stealing at the edges because we’re backed into corners, 
Corners
Glittering with promises corners
Dripping with possibility,
With Island resort wallpaper
Sold in bulk at Wal-Mart for
Profit: A trail of crumbs called America-
Which has curdled our souls and we love it!
And hate it and gossip about it and think obsessively about it and then
We find the most expensive friends our looks can afford,
Shopping for substance (50% off)
Staring through the eye of a screen 
Light speed in pursuit of heaven on earth (Ignore the plastic)-
Until pop!
We die of ADHD. 
Never having had the chance to smell the genetically modified roses.
Never having had the chance to see through this kingdom of ideas
As we served out our sentence to life in cubicle.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/24/2013

When To Start

Blonde hair, blue eyes is all you see,
all they ever do see.
But I could be your heroine, there's more to me,
so much more to me.

I...want to save you
I...can't wait around forever for you.

Someday you'll find
oh that you and I 
weren't meant to be...
weren't meant to ever be apart.

I could love you down, just tell me when to start.

That girl doesn't make you mad
she doesnt even drive you crazy.
She's not all that
and that's too bad
cuz everything's what you could have.

Someday you'll find 
oh that you and I 
weren't meant to be...
weren't meant to ever be apart

and I could love you down, just tell me when to start.

Prettied up, best dress
tell me you haven't noticed...
come on, darling,
who you think you're fooling?
This is for you, its all for you.

I wanna love your heart,
love your heart.
Tell me when to start,
just tell me when to start...

Candy Coated Wreck

Paperless dolls and run-less runs –
Roller coaster rides and fun-less fun.
Hopscotch and blisters; banana-seat bikes –
Hand games and shout-backs too.

Quiet-less walks at 3:00 in the morn –
Virtual stranger rides with indecency.
Cracker-jacks and white wine spritzers –
Early morning-midnight bizarre.

Hellish targets for our holy aims –
Lipsticks red and perfumes sweet.
Mustard corndogs with licorice malt –
Chocolate mustache with milk beards.

Sunstroke and fallacy whipping tales –
Tongue-tied talk and all the such.
Hair-unwoven nightmares & bobby pins –
Lurid washed-out make-up; oh the horror.

Candy-less sugar pops dressed in green –
Wrappers prettied up in dazzling clash.
Malt whiskey and bourbon please –
Ante up for your hill-less ride.

Belle

The big girl you are

The steps so long

The fur so soft

Gentle eyes look down on me

Take me here and there

Get prettied up for shows

Brushed from head to toes

A heart so big

A tail so long

Feet like dinner plates

Legs so strong

Back so broad

Head so big

Ears so tall

Not afraid of much at all

You can feel a flies touch

All the children you love

Look down on them from above

You saved me from a tree

You gave me my dreams

You made them come true

I love you!

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