Three is that magical number so fascinating,
Oft-repeated in history.
In the Bible, it is the Holy Trinity
But there’s plenty more equally captivating.
On Golgotha’s hill were erected three stakes
Three gospels are called Synoptics
Triangles make most pleasing optics
And three times a lady the pop lyric states.
When you were a kid you got three chances
The third time’s the charm ... got you a-switchin’,
Three blind mice in the farmer’s wife’s kitchen
Got their tails cut off with sharpened lances.
Shakespeare’s three witches brewed up a pot,
But when Nebuchadnezzar looked into the fire
To check on the results of his uncontrollable ire
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were not.
There were three bears, three little pigs,
And three Billy goats gruff,
And, as though that were not enough,
The old drunk took three swigs.
I could go on and on, making the point
That three is the number to be
In literature, fables, and history
But, continuing might soon disappoint.
Written on February 10, 2021
For the 3 Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Biaanco
time is not a spell - porous plague:
bounty bewitchment squinching crest,
la-de-da odds fostering surge,
drooling dirge heaving lanky lurch
time ain't perforated portion
ascribed by nocturnal nature:
hankering hectares feigning fields,
swaying swigs, fused figs, sumptuous spree
time outsmarts a tool - meagre mist:
gaunt fashion, gullible mimick,
fleshened forensics, torn tactics
inflected blitzkrieg, damp disc'pline
taunted time is an oxygen
breathe through it or wane without it.
'20:06:10:15:57
Note: of taunted time.
Cruise ship
Leaves slip
Line rails
Cocktails
Strong breeze
Rough seas
Swigs booze
Bad news
Oh me
Queasy
Boat drill
Felt ill
Grub great
Gained weight
Oh shucks
Tight tux
Played slots
Lost lots
Met Moll
Some doll!
Let's dance?
Perchance?
Git lost!
Star-crossed!
Cruise done
No fun
“ahoy there!, have you some beer”
“I’ve been sitting on the deck here”
“the engine coughed then hit the dust”
“no paddles on board which is a must”
Hello me mate I hear you want some beer
that seems strange not to say a little *****
putting beer in the engine would upright your toes
you would not sail again for there she blows.
If you need a tow I’ll throw you some lines
I have no beer but I do have some wines
these are the best from a California grape yard
It’s y rope or wine that’s mild not hard
“I’d rather have the wines to sail in the breeze
“I have sails to rise and wine would be good with my cheese”
You’d not go far with the winds slowing down
my last offer is to bring you to shore.
“I’ve been a captain on these sailing rigs
“I need beer for the engine and some for my swigs”
you guzzle some beer there won’t be a cheer
you’ll be lost at sea, your calls no one will hear
here take these bottles, you can wine and dine
I’ll toss in some nuts, you’ll be just fine
but don’t put beer in the engine and never Smirnoff
else you won’t be cracking nuts when you blast off
A barber called Sweeney and Mrs Lovett
Both catch human heads inside her bucket
Cooking human head pies
With blood and eyeball fries
Each bite so tough that folks need to suck it
Lovetts life ends when Sweeney shoves her in
Grasping her hair she swigs her final gin
Heating her precisely
In bisque hot and spicy
Juice as he eats seeps over Sweeney’s chin
15th January 2019
Contest Limerick II
Sponsor Joseph May
Syllables Per Line:10 10 6 6 10 0 10 10 6 6 10
Total # Syllables:84
Contest:End January
SponsorL Brian Strand
He sure enjoys
his life of Reilly;
lavishly living it up!
A globe-trotter.
A man-about-town.
He's a big hit
with the ladies,
and he doesn't mind
all the attention.
He's a big spender.
Did I mention
he's got style, too?
An unlit Cuban cigar
is always seen dangling
from his mouth.
He's not a smoker,
it's for the look.
He's fashion-savvy,
collecting Rolex watches,
ray ban sunglasses,
fedora hats,
and Versace suits.
He loves his cars
costly and fast;
a Porsche here,
a Lamborghini there
On weekends,
he sets sail
on his fancy yacht,
flying high
on his private jet.
He kills time
on the golf course
hitting the links
with millionaire friends,
throwing parties,
and showing off
his trophy wife
His escargot dinners
are always served
on high-end china.
He swigs champagne
from crystal.
Oh, what a life!
(Free Verse)
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE(20) any theme any form contest (Winner: 1st Place)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date written and posted: 01/06/2019
Turning over I shut my alarm off while in my bed
forcing myself out of my cocoon I have a feeling of dread
its another Monday morning and its pouring outside
getting up I let out a big weary sigh
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I look out my window
where the scenery is nothing but waterlogged, dreary and dismal
thinking of the drive to work only makes me shudder
wishing I could dive back into bed underneath my comfy covers
Monday you always return like a bad boomerang
I can definitely relate as to what the Carpenters sang
another fun weekend gone by in a flash
as I get ready for work doing a 50 yard dash
The clock ticks louder warning me to hurry up
so I wash up get dressed and take swigs from my tea cup
glancing at the wall calendar I wish it were 2024
the year I can retire and not worry about Mondays anymore!
2-19-18
Gratitude
Perpetual fragrance of life sojourns in air,
As golden glitz of sun swigs despair;
Nature endows its riches on us to cherish,
His boundless bounties will never perish;
A tranquil soul that plucks strings of kindness,
will relinquish soreness of brutish heartless;
Let magnificent aurora of dawn unfold,
and emotions of gratitude rise manifold.
Written Nov 14, 2017
© Dr. Upma A. Sharma, India
?
8/21/17
"
Taking swigs
Continuing to dig
Doing it big
Bada-bing
Crown me I am king
Doing my thing
Toward the fences I swing
My all I bring
Sting like a bee, And knock them out the ring
Ding
Ding
Ding
It ain't no thing but a chicken wing
They were holding on by a string
Unable to cling
Now in a sling
Few cooler
Or crueler
A little bit of Ferris Bueller
Call me the super duper ruler
Being a doer
Nevermind the rumors
A good sense of humor
Maneuvered
Throughout the sewer
Even when a junior
On a scooter
On a Sunday evening t'will be
After a sweet sermon from the priest
And my ageing buttocks glued to no wooden chair
Oh my lovely meal on the table
The last thing to graze my intestines
And some swigs of Hollandia Yoghurt
Then a leaning back
Chanting in the Holy Spirit
And Closing my eyes to open no more.
No bullet driven through my heart
Neither a concussion from an accident
Respite of poison I would rather not
Manic waves sunk my boat,
marvel how I could float,
made it to an island,
man there had drinking stand,
mirage I was thinking,
many swigs lemonade,
marooned coconut shade.
4-19-17
Snake on My Neck
There's a live Snake
On my neck so awake
What kind of a Snake
Pendant on your neck
Making you a wreak?
A Snake that's mine
I shall vividly define:
I hide bare top in wigs
And woes with swigs;
I quaff and drown
Like a wretched clown,
Till I'm so senseless
And, pretty penniless!
21st Aug' 2013
Silence
Silence from my
breathe exhaling smoke
As the bud taps the tray
as the beer swigs the throat
All this noise
Noise in a dark room;
noise that echo’s
when even soft
People keep talking
Horns keep screaming
Buildings keep collapsing
Mouths still complaining
Ya
I talk
I talk to myself
wishing for silence
Two swigs of tequilla
Strawberry Daiquri
A pair of scissors
Some anger
Pain
Emptiness
An arm and a leg
Meke a good time
For shedding some blood
Tears anyone?
Breaths feel cool
Taste rebelious.
If I had a bottle of pills
I’d dump them out inside my mouth
Take the last few swigs of vodka
And swallow all of them down
If I had a big sharp knife
I’d drag the cold steel across my skin
If I thought for a moment it might
Bring this feeling to an end
I’d stare down the barrel
If I had a gun
Find the trigger with my finger
Pull it and be done
If I had a car
I’d park inside the garage
Leave the motor running
Till the poison filled my lungs
If I had a rope
I’d make myself a noose
Dangle there in my own doorway
Till somebody cut me loose
If I had someone to love
I'd probably treat them bad
Since that's all that I've known
In relationships of the past
If I had a heart in my chest
I'd be able to forgive and forget
But there is nothing left
Of that beating mass of flesh
So I'll just continue
Sitting all alone and in the dark
A typical evening in with the cat
Doesn't seem that bad after all.
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