It's been way too long since my last lay
With a blue skirt girl on the westward bay
I couldn't delay my sport and had to pay
For the tinkers under the sun's last ray.
Her hands were crafty in the glancing gloam
And we finished before the plunging night
The algae a -crackling with cyclostome
The coralline pebbles were holding me tight.
I smelt a whiff of opioid scheme
Coming straight from her whitesilk thighs
Before I was dragged down to ancient dream
I gathered strength to disengage and rise.
she was quick to act and fell me on to her breasts
I was sure as hell I hadn't passed my tests
She stroked my limbs with tiny scree fingers
And kissed, and, kissed me like fearful stringers.
Suddenly she broke into ponderous laughter
And the maniacal wind blew with hefty gust
She thrusted her pelvis to the water of the night
Through my meandering veins the feral blood rushed.
It's been way too long since my last lay
With a Cinderella on the westward reach
I found a Siren at Prometheus' end
And she was a .. she was a beach!
Your Best New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
21 December, 2019
Categories:
stringers, beach, longing, lost, lost
Form: Rhyme
Where morning is new
And so is its grace,
Oh my lover! Let's go to that place,
Where people are strangers,
And so are we,
Where no one asks our happiness,
Nor care for our grieve,
Where neither priests preach,
Nor kazis do teach,
Where neither mosques make noise,
Nor temples show-off pride,
Where neither exist caste-creeds',
Poisonous stringers,
No existence of any minister,
Emperor nor beggar,
Where bloomed garden is found,
With heart of man kind,
You be the fragrance of flowers,
I shallbe the gentle wind,
Oh my lover! Let's fly to that place,
Where day is new and so is its grace,
Oh my lover! Let's fly to that place....."July 4, 2016
Categories:
stringers, desire, dream, emotions, freedom,
Form: Prose Poetry
FISH FRY
Flip and Flo and Nick and Buck
went down the road to try their luck
afishin' in their fav'rite spot,
with wiggle worms that Buck had bought.
Nick was quick to hook his worm,
Flip got sick to see them squirm,
Flo was giggling so bad
Flip and Buck got really mad.
Nick was first to have some luck
astonishing Flo, Flip and Buck,
a yellow perch the size to fry,
who lost his luck while swimming by.
Flo got stuck with her own hook,
Flip took it out, she couldn't look;
and then they all got their own wish,
Flo, Flip, and Buck all caught a fish.
Buck swore a bass as big as Nick
looked at his worm but stole it quick!
Flo took their last and only worm
and hooked it just to see it squirm.
And so it was the time to go,
Nick carried poles and so did Flo,
on Buck and Flip, the stringers hung
on which the following were strung;
A dozen perch, and six walleye,
and forty punkin' seeds to fry,
for Flip and Flo and Buck and Nick
there's quite enough to make 'em sick.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Categories:
stringers, fishing, kid,
Form: Light Verse
They stand in cottonfields of snowy white
The faded, black and white of my grandparents..
Smiling as though everything were alright.
Cotton sacks hung low down to the ground,
As the depression came calling,
Twas the way of life...
Those first thick, blury, color pictures of mom and dad
From those old peel away Polaroid cameras made,
Of the very first brand new car they ever bought..
A baby blue Chev wagon..
I wonder now..what they thought? :-)
Their dirty kids holding stringers of slimy fish
Proudly displaying today's big catch
Shiny bright new pictures of grandkids with phones
Who look with wonderment...
At the pictures of cottonfields of snow
Donna Jones
10-5-2013
Categories:
stringers, family,
Form: Free verse