Pulled a face when he swallowed a tapeworm
Made him wriggle and jiggle and squirm
down his gullet it slipped
his demeanour now flipped
He hopes it passes through in the short term
Sometimes words are magnets stuck to your heart
in melody, prophesy, promise:
true or false.
Sometimes words are puff-balls on weedy-stalks:
whispering things that blow away
on a breath.
Sometimes words make points that hurt:
bitter rusty knives that jab
and scar.
Words behave like viruses – mutate, transform, disguise.
Sometimes they mean the opposite of what they meant
before.
And sometimes
these eels, these words that squirm with life
come leaping from your mouth
in love.
As I look over the poems I’ve written
Seeing that several folks have read them,
Suddenly, I find myself strangely smitten
That anyone would read my simple poem.
So grateful that many have commented
Lovely phrases with complimentary terms,
Let’s face it, it’s so nice to be complimented
It always makes my innards squirm,
To think my poems are being read the world over
By poets so accomplished, [more so than I]
Is a little like finding an elusive four-leaf clover
Certainly, makes me want to continue to try
To write something of note, memorable
I suppose something that will elicit a smile
Finding so many in PS that are commendable,
I may try to write another one after a while.
Written November 22, 2022
Rain-steps publish worms,
wriggles scribe themselves.
The thrown thud of a newspaper
punctuates the wet and written.
Sparrows scrawl and scrabble,
foraging starlings attack the earth
sounds squirm up,
muddy scripts are picked at, edited
a door slams,
the ground rewrites itself.
Keep telling myself, think silly
It's sure not a struggle for this poet-y
Born to giggle
To squirm and wiggle
Coz humour impresses the fillies
cutting-edge
surgery...why so
uneasy
Keep telling myself, always think silly
It's sure not a struggle for this silly billy
Born to giggle
To squirm and wiggle
Coz humor sure impresses all the fillies
Keep telling myself, always think silly
It's sure not a struggle for this poet-y
Born to giggle
To squirm and wiggle
Coz humor sure impresses all the fillies
Some Worm Who Would Wiggle
Remember when there was a worm,
Who would wiggle when it did squirm;
On path appeared,
As twilight neared;
Afraid and onto branch he held firm.
Jim Horn
For Poetry Revisited's picture of a path.
Keep telling myself, think silly
It's sure not a struggle for this poet-y
Born to giggle
To squirm and wiggle
Coz humor impresses the fillies
You writhe and squirm, twist and bend,
Agonized for thirst of air.
And I’m bound by chains onto the ground,
Chained like a slave to a chair.
Still you dance on the edge, the open sill,
The sill open for a shattered erase.
Dressed in beautiful, dressed to kill,
An intoxicating purple tipped lace.
Are you just an idea, a butterfly notion,
Are you more than a theory to lure?
Since every night asleep, all I dream is of you,
Till you vanish in a puff of obscure.
Keep telling myself, think silly
It's sure not a struggle for this poet-y
Born to giggle
To squirm and wiggle
Coz humour impresses the fillies
Should Have Seen Him Squirm
This they did confirm
They finally killed the germ
Should have seen him squirm.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
On the more serious side.
Keep telling myself, think silly
It's sure not a struggle for this poet-y
Born to giggle
To squirm and wiggle
Coz humer impresses the fillies
© Jack Ellison 2015
The Worm Doth Squirm
by Preston Hill
The worm doth squirm as it burrows through the berm on its way to find a germ that it could squash.
But the germ began to turn upon the berm burrowing worm and found the worm to be quite warm and truly posh.
So the worm spit out the germ upon the wormy burrowed berm and then turned to get away once and for all.
And the germ called to the worm "You can flee this burrowed berm but you're going to see me once again this fall".
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