Truckle Poems | Examples


Premium MemberCome, I Invite You to Suckle

Sea, I stand upon your shore with the rising of the sun 
as sanguine shades of dawn blend with an amber sky
Long before the overture of the human race has begun
I walk barefoot on the sand; to moonlight wave goodbye

When Ra lifts his heavy eyelids and wipes away the sleep
his light is softly reflected in prismed mirrors on your skin
I wonder what buried treasure lies within your waters, deep
before my mind is captured by the wake of a dorsal fin

Your smooth satin surface is without wrinkles or ripples 
It beckons me, "Come," as though you invite me to suckle
upon the salty crested waves of your whitecapped nipples
and I, powerless to refuse, would wade in and gladly truckle

Oh, rising Sea, would I were the wind to caress your cheek
I'd not tire of lying cradled in the ebb and flow of your tide
Rocked by gentle motion, I'd be entranced by your mystique
Upon Earth, you are feared and worshipped, far and wide

Your voice lashes out with Neptune's roar when riled in rage
but tranquil in peace when moonlight shimmers in the night
What dark secrets you hold would fill a novel, page after page
You evoke my mind with questions; flames burning, you ignite
Categories: truckle, how i feel, sea,
Form: Rhyme

Premium MemberCheese and Wine Party

I went to a cheese and wine party on Saturday,
where huge platters of cheese were on display.
There was Gorgonzola and creamy white Brie,
I devoured huge chunks with a glass of Chablis.

Danish Blue, Mozzarella and Swiss Emmental,
of course I had to try a sample of them all!
I declined Edam and Gouda, I find them too waxy -
and the last time I ate them I was sick in the taxi!

Soft creamy Camembert and blue Roquefort,
went down a treat with a glass of vintage port.
Crumbly Cheshire and Cheddar were so divine,
and tasted heavenly with red Beaujolais wine.

I’d chomped through all of the Stinking Bishop,
our hostess had to restock the whole dish up!
Then I munched little cubes of Monterey Jack -
if my doctor saw me he’d have a heart attack!

When our host carried in a blue Stilton in a truckle,
I loosened a notch on my now straining belt buckle!
I admit blue cheese can smell like men's sweaty socks
but ripe Stilton and crackers, this cheese simply rocks!

Write a poem about Cheese Contest
Sponsored by Barry Stebbings

FICTION POEM FOR CONTEST

11/12/18
Categories: truckle, food, humorous,
Form: Rhyme


Premium MemberIn Response To Having My Funny Bone Tickled

While reading my posts I heard some ruckle
Lin Lane thinks my comments are "honeysuckle"
I'll say this to you
It's better than poo
Methinks perhaps you are trying to truckle
Categories: truckle, humorous,
Form: Limerick

Seams

He runs along the seams.
stretching, and tearing, and ripping open.
if only to see his dreams.
if only the witness his hope and reason
truckle before his feet and flee.
glutton of sorrow!
You breathe melancholy with a sigh so pathetic and petty.
do i owe you pity?
Im just so tired of stumbling so far behind
stithcing the gaps that follow your mind.
why dont you take a rest?
Why dont yoy rewind?
Categories: truckle, pain,
Form: Free verse

Pow

Bah!  The sound of quelled cries
Tempered timbers tales and ties.
Malevolence, mischievous
Mine heart; mine lives.

Serendipitous meetings
With resounding sighs, of life.
Quaff strange brews
In still stranger sties. 
Careful wispers
around still stranger allies.

Lashings! oh, still the burnt
Back bleeds red.
I heard from one and his tale
As an old head had no recourse
To lead mine heart unto dread.

Under fence and over wood,
Through jagged metal teeth,
Across yon' wall, through yon' mall.
Providence with waving arm there stood.

But with every syllable and poetic
Jaunt he did reveal clear enough.
Did I see a mere killer on the tower
A demon in the rough.

Was I to truckle this life long dead?
The thought of purgatory
Weighed heavy my old head.
Remembrances of home, of wife, and bed.

So grabbed I my worldly worth,
My soul should I fall short,
My hilt I furnished from a dinner spoon
And my kills I gave to the Lord.

I ran in night , scratched and did I get bit.
I slammed through jungle and dark of night.
Dark eyes seemed to always be peering,
But many days were the rest of my flight.
Categories: truckle, angst, introspection, people, recovery
Form: Rhyme


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