We’re strapped in seats and to our left,
A dad, a mom, 3 tots;
And how much noise did they produce?
You know the answer - lots!
Before we taxi, it’s announced
There’ll be a slight delay.
Mechanics have to come on board,
And so begins our day.
They check us out; we’re good to go,
But traffic in the air
Means there will be some extra time
To take off. Don’t despair!
The whole time this is going on,
With pencil in my hand,
I’m working on a Times acrostic,
Just as I had planned.
It really is a tough one;
I’m oblivious to time.
The minutes tick away until
We’ve left the ground and I’m
Just finishing the puzzle.
I’m a genius! But what’s best
Is by doing the acrostic,
I was shockingly unstressed.
J's good
K's mood
J prays
K lays
leis' scent
trees bent
pleas heard
gifts served
from sky
from High
birds sing
Winds bring
on hills
and tops
wind mills
that clap
tots play
and pray
like trees
and plants
hon'bees
not rants
gentle
sober
J asked
facemask
from K's
sand flask
a toy
K buoy
so cute
not mute
then K
asked J
"What's life?"
Life's good!
J prayed
and swayed
"Thank you."
For what?
"You're there!..."
as friend
who hears
and clears
my spot
not blot
who cares
not dares
and helps
not yelps
for years
not tears
uplifts
not drifts
who stays
on days
hot days
wet days
hears me
cheers me...
Oh dear...
God's good!
like us
Bless Us!
They knelt
and felt
the Sun
that shines
the Moon
not whines
smiling
with clouds
twirling
in crowds.
Life's good
Be good!...
My name is Tory
and here is my story
I got pots
you can make some tator tots
I got pans
so open up some cans
I got skillets
open up that wallet
I got spices like old bay
you can start eating gourmet
Everything's for sale
I'll even throw in some kale!!
The Beauty Of Baseball Poetry Contest
Matt Caliri
A supposedly wide-open, empty street
A rubber ball, a plastic bat, and a real game.
Kids playing to the baseball beat
The diamond asphalt is just the same.
Lines are drawn, and teams are picked.
The pickup games are for bragging rights
Where emotions are high, and egos are nicked.
Some kids haven't reached their grown heights.
The bigger ones hit the longer ball
The little tots hit short liners that hit parked cars.
Homers hit homers over the wall
A neighbor’s house is seeing stars.
Foul balls find a garden bed
Where a stampede of kids thrashes the roses.
A homeowner is cussing and seeing red.
Today's game comes to an end and forecloses.
Tomorrow’s stars have a dream
To play on the big stage.
Where it all started with the pickup teams
On the streets and to the homeowner’s rage.
Baseball is America’s pastime.
Hot dogs, sunflower seeds, and lemonade fill the plate.
There is a passion and a youthful chime
And these kids arrived early and don’t want to be late.
Each ivory tower needs so much power and water
Society is the fall guy for the pie in the sky AI lie
Cultures savaged ravaged caricatures by vultures
Slyly trying to deflower mother nature’s daughter
Dodgy dealing resources stealing planet’s reeling
Preach each data centre like a cultural placenta
Layers peeling players say mentor no glass ceiling
Am a lamenter of break neck tech wreck dementor
No healing waste from haste paste without feeling
We’ve heard it before the computer is our future
Smoke and mirrors AI on the fly the latest suitor
Us all just a data commuter for a leech not tutor
Beseech purloining then coining no way to teach
The conceit of the deceit is an elite cheat ripsnorter
Train bots brain rots turns us into tots & lots of have nots
Only glower of people power can stop the slaughter
Monday morning sneaks through shack and grime,
Bullets whirr where drug barons plot their trade,
Gatas tread gingerly.wasting hours and time.
The spaza hums,mugs chime,Rooibos Tea in the lane,
Bambinos sidestep shadows,mae geri into dustty tins,
Old timers murmur incantations under the day's first pain.
Smog sprinkles from braai stands where mamtanies fry,
Pirated Kalashnikovs twinkle in the sun's first glare,
Yet souls beat steady,declining lies.
Klevahs shuffle,wallets empty,agrrements whispered fast,
Tiny tots peep through windows,hearts throbbing loud,
Even in agony,a tenacious hope holds steady steadfast.
Through shacks,mirth trembles,sharp but bright,
The day starts with grit,with pain,with dreams,
In this dream struggle, the spirit fights for light.
Those thugs, that try to teach tiny tots, to taut taunting tautogram tales, to tiny, terrified toddlers.
They think that telling tales to toddlers through tautogram tales, teaches them to trust tormenting teasing troublesome thugs. That's truly traumatizing to those tiny toddlers.
Tots waddle to the throttle of life...®a©e®s...start your engines!
Human nature takes wobbly steps forward >>>
Each clumsy effort supported to maintain balance$
Space and times collide *×*
Perpetual motion prevails...®a©e®s...engines revved!
Adulthood rapidly approaches!...Lord help us survive till they move out!
Chance encounters...on and off the computer °}©{°
Experimenting with forbidden fruits @ hormones.com/applejacks
Concerned parents patrol computer...once they figure out the password ?+?=?
Alcohol and weed are soon dating...huh?...what did you say?...uuh...huh?
Driving home with the ***** in their eyes!
Except...they're still in park!!!
Too much ghanja dulled their drive ° ° °
Space station number: 5
We think the Don’s sort of brain dead
Trump morphs in his coffin-like bed
We wish he had heart
But he lacks that part
Just like Mister Potato Head
No vaccine for that which we dread?
Venereal ill he will spread
He loves a big stick
But without a dick
He is Mister Potato Head
I woke up and suddenly I felt the August rush. Perhaps it was because
it was August twenty-fifth, just a few days away from September. I could
tell by the chill in the air that soon all the flowers would die and all the
children would be back to school.
Backpacks
little snacks
tots with pouts
Where did the summer go, how did those waterslides get tucked away
so soon. That garden that just a few months ago was at the height of
scent, is now laying dormant, very little bumble bees in sight.
BZZZZZ
Gee Wizz
many sighs
I wish I could turn myself into May, and crown the world with newborn
seeds of love and beauty. May is the month when my cheeks blush and
my heart awakens.
Ready not
like a tot
I'm whining
Because summer is surrendering and my roses are longing for one last
caress from me. Please God, come next year, let the flowers grow again.
I know soon it will be Autumn, but this is not the end....
I went to a land of little
A place of lovely smiles
Candle sticks and butter cups
Clothes of many styles
She gazed at me
With crinkled eyes
She said “you’re just a boy”
“But, I”m all of sixty four”
“So what, embrace your joy.”
Tiny hands and tiny feet
Flowing yellow hair
She flew about as fairies do
I couldn’t believe that she was there
The path before me
Stones and grass
The air it smelt so sweet
Butterflies with glowing eyes
Guided me to a seat
Animals and people too
Even Tiny tinker tots
Danced about with such glee
Amidst the Forget me nots
My problems shrunk to little
As I grew in joy
Sixty four’s just a number
After all, I'm just a boy.
Every family got one
That one family member who
You won't invite to the cook-out
Because you know that they'll
Do something stupid to turn it out
And pissed everyone off, might
Even cause a fight to breakout
Every family got one
That one family member
Who's the jokester, who sit
Around and tell those tall tales and
Have everybody laughing even
Though you know they're lying
Through their teeth
Every family got one
That one family member
Who's greedy and tries to suck up
All the liquor knowing they can't handle it
But tries anyway
And falls on everyone even the ground
Every family got one
That one family member who
Tots off plates of food
To their car claiming not wanting to cook
The next day but you know that they're
Just being hoggish over food
Before technology, to find
A number, you would look
In a pretty big directory
Of names bound in a book.
There were two types - the yellow pages
Listed business phones
And the white-paged paperback contained
Your personal unknowns.
The names were alphabetical
And had a home address,
Plus the number for the telephone
To dial (not to press!)
We have a copy from the past;
Our grandson found our page,
Though whether he could picture
Using it was hard to gauge.
Of course, most people used these books
As booster seats for tots.
Suggesting that today, though,
Would make most young parents plotz.
I like to think big thoughts,
but when I tie my brain in knots,
I eat a couple tater tots.
Who was best? The Sultan of Swat?
Maybe he was - maybe not.
I'm not sure, but if you ask me, man,
my money's on Ohtani from Japan.
If you think my poems ain't good enough,
consider that I know lots of stuff -
like: there's no fruit more popular than a
orange, an apple, or a banana.
I think it would be really neat
to have suction cups for feet,
I would not be limited, anymore,
to walking only on the floor.
Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall,
I'd stroll the ceiling and the wall.
Everyone would fall in love
with me as I look down from above,
knowing I will never drop
as my feet loudly pop, pop, pop.
A sudden drizzle gushed along the street,
That I wiggled out , romping and playing
In my cotton jumpshirt as summer cooled,
To allow a downpour of monsoon rain.
Swerving through puddles where debris
Gathered around little tots' feet,
Our lithe bodies slip-skidded, glided
On a roller-coaster ride of muddy suds... what fun!
Then, I picked dingy ferns coiled by reeds,
Merrily smiling past waters, unclear…
Till Mom and Dad yelled "kids , clean up...”
O youth's play of bubble-pop made us blush.
Then soft winds crooned among the trees
Where only spellbound laughter can recall
This whimsical atmosphere: A time to reel,
To cherish the frolic in heat of summer days
Which spangled my childhood sprees aloft!
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.