POTD~
In the misery of a paler grey nightfall
she blinks like citrine glazed along walls,
Ivy of Boston flaunts her shimmer without guilt
as palette of amber claims her lustrous glides
slithering with her bohemian lift,
rosette flesh blushing in chilled breeze.
Social climber this paramour, whirling
among plants wanton wild ,
trickles of mist freckle palms of curled leaves-
stem for stem-- translating the language of time,
of how branches relish herbage flow
as my wet hands paddle my dusky breaths
through mid-evening's freeze.
How her alchemy draws gasping sighs
more red than red could ever tease,
and that gypsy's heat...leaving mortals
in awe-...that her fluid pose seems to jut out
from a glass frame to rush forth with all
her womanly senses gushing, snaking,
writhing in the middle of ghastly, boney winter
meant to return on the edge of wild abandon,
enticing men with her faceted charm
never ever the same each time.
Ivy is a climber
She climbs up on ladders and chairs
Creeps into an empty house
And climbs its creaky stairs
She just loves climbing
And never falls
The best thing she loves to climb
Is up all garden walls
Come here, my dear, and have no fear, I'm here,
Mom loved her grandkids, but she loved us first,
We're her trials, hid behind smiles, she rehearsed,
Mom had The Word, and the Lord--knew naught fear
Scriptures and song, sing along, she's well versed
Come here, my dear, and have no fear, I'm here,
Words I used -- as she endured ... Alzheimer,
Faculties ... difficulties ... mom my dear,
Kind words passing people ... social climber,
Believed in Heaven--I hear her ... "I'm HERE!"
"Be along shortly", says this old-timer.
2020 January 31
Rhyme Time 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
2.) Come here, my dear, and have no fear
So you call yourself a rhymer,
you’re nothing but a social climber.
I got better rhymes than you in my sleep.
If you come my way accept your defeat.
I will challenge any male or female.
You're wearing the title belt now,
but look at your opponents.
Step up to me and I will knock you out,
haven't you heard about me I got clout.
I got verses and rhymes that will make your head spin,
step in the ring with me, I know for a fact that I'll win.
I ain't what you call no chump,
you’ll fall on your rump.
Listen up you brag to much,
and I got the Midas touch.
I’m the modern day Shakespeare,
someone that you just fear.
I pack a mean punch,
I’ll send you out to lunch.
Just call me Laila Ali
“I be stinging”
And zzzz’s is what you’ll
be singing.
Oh, you’re a club-tie glad-hand social climber
If e'er there were one, Milo Minderbinder
A meticulous craft, your quest for domination
Your smile so bowed, so proud of your lofty station
Your well-known carnival of carnal knowledge
A cornucopia of knowing carnage
The next home remodel, a newer, younger model
stole into your wine cellar, then uncorked the bottle
The old ball and chain got chained, and bald, and old
From divorce, then cancer, then down the six foot hole.
But none will sue when you’re under your newest Nun
God’s Son knew, nothing new under the sun
Skipping blithely through fortune’s emerald fields
Shh! Do you hear karma at your heels?
5/30/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Revised 10/1/24
"Modern Sonnet"--couplet rhymes, loose with the metric feet
PARTY VINE
The Sweet Pea is a social climber,
behind your back, a wisenheimer.
In the night it wields its powers,
Sweet Peas strangle other flowers.
Sweet Peas think the rainbow's somber,
they use the Fall to upstage umber.
They twirl tulle skits in every tint,
cheat the rose and pungent mint.
The splendid buoyant burgeoning pod,
is full of seeds it dumps with a nod.
Sweet Peas are fervent fertile bunnies,
they tease the bees with shameless honeys.
This pea legume will make one drunk,
it throws loud parties from its bunk.
In sweet perfume and showy dress,
it's backwards with oblige noblesse.
Sweet Peas smell like Orange Crush tastes,
It weaves green tendrils like Irish lace.
When breezes blow so soft and heady,
they throw their blossoms like confetti.
By Edlynn Nau
November 8, 2015
life is a ladder
and i am a social
climber
climbing one step
after another
but life is hard
so i have to move
faster
if i want to get
further
for the rich is
getting richer
and the poor get
poorer
even though life is
tough
and things get rough
i believe i will
make it
life will get better
for i come from
somewhere
and now i am here
this is not my
permanent place
it will not be like
this forever
so far as there is
life
there is more hope
for the future
"There is no safety this side of Death",
admonished Father Jubal.
There's a chance we've only one more breath;
I'd bet my bottom Ruble!
My iron tongue- my lying lung!
One last dirge to be sung...
But from the depths of Hell, from Heaven fell-
I have climbed up wrung for wrung!
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