"wowie" poems
Zinging the zen-zone I was in
A zany request zig-zagged my way.
Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee
Required a zippy line or two
To paint the zeitgeist of our times.
With the strength of a Zamboni-
With the power of a Zeus-
And an uncommon zeal I set out
To zap the doubt that slowed me.
With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld
And his zoftig choir of beauties,
I morphed into a zealot
Gamboling in the zephyrs
That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire,
Not to mention Zanzibar.
I felt like a Zacharias
When my zealous work went bust.
The writing turned into a zonk-
The accolades were zilch.
I felt like I’d been zippered up
Like a zebra in a zoo.
I lost my zest for going on
And slopped around in old Zoris,
Listening to zydeco’s beat
And feeling like a zit.
But then the Zodiac-
My zinging-singing sign
Came to my rescue
And I was marching off to Zion.
I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini
As I zipped across the pages
And zoomed from one idea
To an even zippier one.
So here, Sunprincess, is your verse
I’ve used up every letter zee
And gone from very bad to worse
But of this challenge, I am free.
ljm
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
Let's boogie
in the electric synaptic light show club
called "Us."
Jackhammer legs quake the place
as everyone hums to the rhythms of their synchronized eyelids
and lungs pumping out golden dolphin breath.
Together copacetic drinks are raised and clinked
echoing like a hummingbird's wings shimmering in the afternoon sun,
Great Spirit, the bartender serves up a round on the house
of midnight snow owl whisky
for those ruminating Rumi and Hafiz's poetry,
the ones already beaming crystal quartz incandescence
from their heart and minds being present in the swaying
space that is the sacred spiral grouse dance.
Some peeps puff tree in the maui wowie mahogany lounge,
the prairie dog smoke carves the air
as these folks reflect and stare at their streams of consciousness
like a blue heron waiting for that third eye fish
for dinner.
The mirrors reveal our inner higher self children
of the moonrise kingdom building the iridescent
bridge to the rainbow road.
When when it's last call
we shall tiptoe home like drunken mice
stumbling up the melting sphere clock
to rest upside down opossum comfortably
giggling giggling thunderous heyoka whispers
into each other's shoulders
until the aquarian dawn.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
Oh wow…
Wowie wow wow wow!
He sure is cute.
His name is Kevin.
And I’m in love with him!
I don’t know much about Kevin, though.
He used to play football,
Until he blew out his knee.
But I bet he was real good!
Now, he’s majoring in chemistry.
It would be a lot better if he were smart…
Unfortunately, Kevin has a sponge for a brain…
He doesn’t know the difference between a mixture or a substance.
I don’t even think he knows his face from his ***
It’s a good thing he’s cute though.
So very cute.
His hair is very short and black.
It frames his angular face like a beautiful picture of Queen Victoria is framed in a diamond frame.
Kevin’s eyes are blue.
A miraculous, bright blue.
It’s a good thing that he’s cute,
Because he really is a brick…
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC