A cowboy from Van Horn named Tate
claimed, “Darlin’, I’m Texas’ fate.”
He swaggered so wide
you could drive alongside~
then his spurs got him stuck in a gate.
Beach bum in August felt wild in the breeze,
strutted 'round trying to appease the seas.
He posed with his beach flip-flops,
did daring loops and hip-hops~
‘till waves proved his swagger was just a tease.
He stood there looking cool.
No rush, he'd catch the next cab.
He rather enjoyed the rain.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
My friend from Trinidad
has swagger like no other
Grew up drenched in music's rhythm
surrounded by storytelling musicians
who'd belt out proud social messages
To this day he lives and breathes music
Transports him to that soulful party place
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
An imagist glimpse of metamodern beauty
Her swagger sweeps the street.
Men pretend not to see—
yet their eyes beg the bouquet in her hand,
a wish disguised as disinterest.
She aligns with the lamppost,
the background tilts to her hue,
as if the lamp and pavement
had robbed the sun of its yellow—
and still,
her beauty hovers beyond this world.
Coocoo doodle I do,
Not every day I coo,
What Mum can do, I can –
My skin needs a sun tan.
My hair with homemade curls,
My makeup shines like pearls.
I'm just a baby, see,
Acting adult, maybe.
Bring napkins for wee-wee,
Ensure fun flows for free.
Tie me nappies for poo.
And bandage my boo-boo.
Baby guys will whistle,
Love – their own epistle.
While I sway my bum-bum,
Left to right like my mum.
Coocoo doodle I do,
Not every day I coo,
What Mum can do, I can –
My skin needs a sun tan.
No high-heeled shoes to wear,
I'd still swagger with flair.
I'm a baby with style,
Can't stop this cheeky smile.
I walk this road alone, untraveled
Dusty, dark, and grey
Head held high and boots, untattered
Sexy swagger all the way
Free my soul from his name
Walking alone in this pain
If I keep these boots shiny
You won't call me a phony
For not crying his name
How can I cower?
How can I cry?
I keep my boots shiny!
I hold my head high!
The bruises are hiding
Under my skin
In my brain, on my heart
Like a monster within
I ask of you kindly
Please let me go
Take your hands off my heart
And your foot off my soul
I look up to the heavens
To help guide my way
The stars look a brighter
Than they did yesterday
My heart sings your name when I close my eyes
Despite all the pain
despite all the lies
Setting fire to my dreams
I gave you the match
You watched in delight
I finally gasped
I walk this road alone, untravelled
Head head high and boots, untattered
Sexy swagger all the way
she remembers his scent
his hands his eyes his breath
and the lights down low
the unfaltering way he held her
as they danced cheek to cheek
bodies pressed against each other
swaying as one to some bluesy melody
grinding away the pulse of loneliness
in the sultry heat of midnight
she remembers his scent
the lights down low
his smile his kiss his touch
Read on air by invitation ~ July 14, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 3rd place 2025, 3rd place 2021
Hubris and centrism are forever hook and mitt
A myriad of players does seemingly afflict
Resenting green eyes now focusing in
Rocks tangled with glass and taken square on the chin
Petulant stance, the recreants cry
Transitorily deuced with an inquisitive why
Posturing accepted, a haughty delivery in the night
Furtive and devious, and not very bright
Mystified clearly, network disrupted
Vista on essence, simply corrupted
Spiteful in pattern, indifferent and rude
Coercion les enlist, poultry and crude
Yeah lesson concluded and left to reflect
Degree obtained, autonomic architect
Every posterior, leered and showcased for thee
Closing of view and this third degree
i see you strutting
your long flowing hair
miniskirt and heels
swaying with swagger
content with your lot in life
i try to picture you
twenty or thirty years from now
and can’t help but hope
life never drags you down
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
She swaggers over to our table
Whips out her pad from her apron
Pencil poised
What’cha want Hon?
She drawls
Soft pink lips in a little twinkled pout
The white frilled design
Bust’n out in all the boxum places
Our “Two Specials with coffee” reply
Brought a smile
I like it fast and easy like that
she laughs
as she saches her swagger back
to place our order
you can’t help but notice that
her perfume lingers
in still air
as if the shadow of her swagger
was left behind
written 9-5-2019
SWAGGER Poetry Contest
Ted breezed into the house like he owned the place
with an cocky smirk plastered all over his face
I know that look son; just tell me what you’ve done -
you’ve not robbed a bank and now you’re on the run’!
He puffed out his chest and strutted with a swagger
then jumped on the table and danced like Mick Jagger
He said, mum don’t fret, there won’t be a lynch mob -
I’ve just had an interview and got my very first job!
Swagger Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
9/5/19
Joe clicked his heels
Clapped his hands
Let out a squeal
He was in demand
The most popular girl
In the entire school
Had him carry her books
His friends just drooled
Back in class
Joe's on Cloud Nine
His girl, a beauty
So very fine...
Just then she had another
Carry her books--
Alas, Joe's bubble had burst
So much for swagger, and as for good looks...
September 05, 2019
SWAGGER Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
If only I could swagger today
but no longer can my body sway
every step aches my bones to sit and stay
no longer desiring to get up and play.
This sedentary life has caught me in its sights
and these aging bones ache in their plight
as I observe the foolish and the young grown
cling to their tablets and their phones prone.
My muscles tweak and the body teeters
as I rise up and struggle eager
to stretch and move in religious exercise
and quickly wake to my surprise.
The sky, the earth, the garden grand
calls me out to fields and open land
and in my wiser observations
I slip into nature's integration.
A step, a hip, a knee jerked joint
and reality seems to lose its point
but the vision and images revealed
have taken life to sway and swagger in its new appeal.
Vibrant cheers he exudes
Along his blissful smile
Midst mirth-filled greetings
Shaking hands with everyone
Oblivious of disability’s vexation…
Triumphantly presenting his abstract art work
His boyish swagger prevails, devoid of haughtiness
Revealing “confidence-to-the max” wholehearted glee
With his branded thumbs-up sign
Defying hypocrisy’s jeers…
Approaching the sanctuary’s altar with joy
He is meekly propelled by his swagger walk
While I prop him with love and patience
Thanking God* for the honourable privilege
To assist a special child, testifying "I'm proud of him."
*2Chronicles 5:13…Make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the LORD; …For he is good; for his mercy endureth for ever…
September 4, 2019
1st place, "SWAGGER" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 9/6/2019.
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