Kiwi Cricket's Shangri La...
"Can still hear the deafening din of the Indian crowd chagrin.
Stunned shell shocked silence at mandarins' sins.
Yet somehow still so loud
Like thunder down under in the proud
Land of the long white cloud.
Daring to dream of derring do plunder.
Upsets’ unctuous umami.
Shocks’ sumptuous serendipity.
Cast asunder as against the odds.
Hallowed Gods' anguished..felled & fallowed.
Kiwis vanquished the voodoo of Indian home hoodoo.
This purple patch, so perversely plush...got a hunch.
Would make even Prince blush, proud as ribena punch.
Sporting nirvanas cavorting with crepuscular career nadirs.
Can’t pillory this Test expedition, like the Everest conquest & Hillary.
Black cap sedition…Indian perdition.
Tradition debunked by spunky funk.
Not once, not twice but thrice.
Teeming..awash with gleaming beaming white.
Emancipation...damnation & salvation.
The Indian’s cardinal sin…not being able to play spin.
No way you can naysay.. just
Another Bill Murray Groundhog day.
As we learned..the underdog winner.. we yearned had turned.
Fat cats burned & stats spurned..into a dog's dinner."
How do you do, Point of Exclamation?!
We love your disposition of hooray,
We bask in your uplifting sensation,
Without you words would dry up in dismay.
“Oh thank you, I’m fantastic! Awesome! Great!
I thrive indeed on fulsome words of praise,
My final punch is not to punctuate -
My one and only goal is to amaze!”
You sure run on a brighter sunny side,
One mark and we jolt to your vivid vibe!
What would ameliorate your cheerful pride,
And turn your tone into a jesting jibe?
“Oh Boy! I fear my joyful cover blown!
Oh well! Though I appreciate the wit,
I hate when used for monotonous tone
With an assumption that I can fix it.”
You stand alone but carry so much weight,
How do you strut your stature straight and proud?
“By adding zeal and zest to what you state,
I smile, chuckle, grin and laugh out loud!”
Your punctual purpose clearly beats the rest
Where from you generate your spunky spark?
“Oops! My attention span isn’t the best!
Too many queries, ask a question mark!”
They said this strange man ate his squirrel:
such a lovely arboreal rodent, a creature that nibbles.
First he eats its legs, then its body,
but omits the heart. That is precious.
What? We do not eat a squirrel?
Boiled, broiled, roasted or raw? With sprinkles?
There are strange people who choose
certain creatures of fur. But never one that gnaws?
And those spirited, spunky sprinkles?
There are strange folk who resist a pitter-patter,
with or without a squirrel, whether it be boiled or broiled,
even roasted or raw - without those sprinkles
and, of course, those spatters.
There are funny folk.
They don’t eat an arboreal gnawer?
And do we think of Gnawer and his ark - with squirrels?
So odd how we ponder
on creatures of fur, with or without
those spirited, spunky sprinkles.
Brains do the oddest of things.
(20 Sep 2024)
How do I eat thee? Let me count the ways:
sauced, buttered, plain,
sprinkled with Parmigiano Reggiano,
pesto, pancetta, bacon.
Rowdy rigatoni, flamboyant farfalle,
perky penne, funny fusilli, lovely linguini,
spunky spaghetti,
personality abounds.
An atavistic love affair
with semolina goodness
in all shapes, sizes
like my three Aunt Rosas.
Dear pasta,
I count on you
for your depression-lifting goodness,
accepting no impastas!
When you end up in hot water,
you come out better than before.
You’ve stuck with me
through thick and thin,
mostly thick around my hips.
Pasta al dente, the choice
of strong Italian women!
Bright-eyed spunky kid
no worries just living life
one day at a time
She is a Merida in real life, he told his mother.
She had no idea what that was, so she watched Disney’s movie Brave.
The heroine had a few flaws, but she was spunky and fun-loving.
In the end she did the right thing, and she was super confident.
His mother did not know if she could open her house to a woman like that.
Did not think she had the self-confidence to sustain her as a daughter-in-law.
“I am your daughter now,” Merida told her the second she met her.
They became close, and the mother was charmed and excited.
Merida built her up as she had never been built before.
Her son and Merida split up, but Mom retained a relationship with this dynamo.
Loving Merida as a daughter until the end of her life.
They were vibrant women,
whose voices vibrated in the vicinity.
Their squabbles were X-rated.
Profanity pirouetted nude in their expressions.
They fought for the rights,
though with obscene tongues.
Their ways were bitter
but beneficial like neem.
Even their glances could burn away
some virulent teen trends.
They were spunky,
kept snakehead-vigil on their surroundings.
For livelihood,
they gathered black oysters resembling them.
There were precious harvest songs
in their mind-albums.
As the sea,
they too had a serene face.
Their romance wasn’t a red rose blooming,
but a buffalo ploughing the field,
leaving behind clods of ecstasy.
They caned and scolded their children,
who grew strong in mind and body.
Now noxious things thrive
in the silence left by them.
First published in Native Skin, and then reprinted in The Literary Hatchet
Imperiling through the sky with blood settled on the tip of their tounges. They call out a cult of white hoods with the Illuminati eye on the shroud humanoids with red scaly skin 8 feet tall and burrow in the mesopelagic zone stationed into a temple full of books such as the Grapes of Wrath. One bat hovers over them in the dune hills of sand stepping upon the surface revealed to be a man in black who has a very spunky charismatic mustache. His however were full of curiosity but sinister intent. The creatures who took the very enfeebled shrouds covering their faces. Revealed was stone cold face of death glowing turning the bats into them as if they were a lighthouse herding them to the ingress of a new identiy.
In a realm where pluck ruled supreme
Where valorous hearts dared to dream
A shrug is strong tough thrive and gleams
Whose proud tales to compile?
His name was known, both far and wide
Always stood by his people's side
With unwavering faith and pride
Fought for fairness, not heil
In gloomy times, shone as bright light
He leads people through the worst night
His zeal and resolve often bright
Each step went, extra mile
Autumn colors beckon me
as I follow a spunky squirrel scampering into the woods.
The forest welcomes me as an old friend
that hadn't visited in a long while;
triggering a release of endorphins.
My excursion gets noted by a jaunty woodpecker;
tapping out a distant drum roll as I navigate
through a sea of crisp, crunchy leaves obscuring the trail.
The air feels nippy, fueled by a brisk breeze,
as scarlet, crimson, and cerise rain down from the trees.
A chatty chipmunk scolds me for disturbing its day
as I trespass through its territory, paying it no heed.
And the ground takes on the subtle, spicy scent of earth and decay
while I wander through this picturesque tapestry of color;
woven with gold, amber, yellow, and vermillion threads.
Beauty holds the power to heal the soul;
and Mother Nature is the custodian of beauty.
waves of ash
in agonizing gaps
at the water's edge
They scream wildly
like an anxious sea sprite,
foaming out the,
mysterious misery of mind
On that terrible twilight
the sun suffused irrated streaks
with scorching sympathy
to lift up a dejected sea
I observed
seas of silken saffron swelled in
spunky surges!
Written: August 21, 2022
*Image of Ronnie Spector
Ronnie Spector RIP
Spunky
Funky
Bonny
Ronnie
She Took
Her Look
And Then
Extend
Cat-Eyed
Bee-Hived
Ronettes
Song Hits
Spector
Hector
Phil He
Bullied
Bev Hills
Was Phil's
Mansion
Locked-In
Accused
Abused
Due Course
Divorce
Moved On
She's Gone
Later
Dater
Shot Dead
Her Head
Locked Up
Years Got
Later
Paper
Specter
Daughter
Nicole
She Told
Covid
He's Dead
Year Passed
She Rest
*RIP Ronnie*
After a brief battle with cancer, she died at her Danbury, CT., home surrounded by her family, (08/10/43-01/12/22) at 78.
2022 February 09
*1st Place*
A STRAND (1070)
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 February 10
Tom and Jerry
Tom
A shy, hapless cat, often lazy and calm
Defeated with his own tricks by Jerry
Poor Tom seems more fit as a fairy...
Jerry
A spunky, sly mouse, alert, never wary
Awaiting his frenemy, Tom, he will scheme
Yet taunting each other makes them the best team!
-1st Place
-Meghan C. Hutchings
-written on 09-22-2021
Tom
Never looks calm
Moves with prance
Scheming for a chance
Jerry
Always spunky and merry
Acts wisely
Overcomes hurdles blithely
Cleritoons Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Date:30-08-2021
PLACED : 1st
I’ve got a girl in Kalamazoo,
sing Miller, Swing Miller, Ding Miller doo…
Moonlight cocktail anyone?
Glenn’s orchestra is on the run.
come on down. Let’s have some fun!
boogie Doogie Moogie Hoogie. Choo Choo Choo
Chattanooga if you want to know.
play something spunky and jazzy, please nothing slow.
American big band king
take those dolls and make ‘em swing
from thirty nine to forty two,
no one was finer or more fun than the likes of you!
an Iowan, like me, I am proud to say.
that old black magic has had her say.
swing Miller, sing Miller, play play play!
you are just as current as you ever were "back in the day!"
When you wish upon a star,
Pennsylvania Six Five thousand, you can’t go far!
what’s my function? Tuxedo junction!
Rhapsody in blue, how do you do?
swing baby, dance, just me and you!
Glenn Miller’s big band will never be through.
U-tube makes sure of that. Boogie Boo Boo.
Glen Miller and his Orchestra, I truly love you!
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