One strawberry sip,
tipsy Moon;
Summer’s set on fire.
Sunny summers day,
the month of July.
A tipsy hummingbird,
was trying to fly.
It had drank honey wine,
and couldn't find its timing.
That tipsy hummingbird.
Tumbled side winding.
One tipsy little bird,
such a sight to see.
crash landed badly,
plumb in front of me.
In a dithering spin,
it shook to catch wind,
promptly rolled over,
and flopped on its chin.
It did triple flips
some bicycle kicks.
This tipsy bird,
was doin the twist.
I grabbed my bandana,
to sop up the spittle.
Laughed as I cried,
big stitches in the middle.
within two quick minutes,
the whole episode was over.
Though it took another six
before I gained composure.
On a warm summer's day,
sunny month of July.
I was lucky to see,
a Tipsy Hummingbird Fly.
H.Elless
Poet
crazy tipsy ball in pitch
gone wild and weird
every player a victim
Tipsy, tipsy, trying to walk
First, I lost all my balance…
Then, I lost some words
Now, I can walk, but tipsy all the time
A partial stroke, will do this
Then, it is realized very quickly
- Just how important balance is -
*If my words come out wrong in poems at all, this is why.
Heidi Sands
2/6/20
Don’t tip this
Or that
Only tip your hat
If you tip a boat
It will tip over
You can’t tip
This or that but
You can tip
The waiter
You can also tap
Your shoes or
Tap a shoulder
Even tap your feet
But if you tap
Your fingers
Others are not pleased
So take a tip from me
Never sip a drink
From a tap
You will find
Yourself Tipsy
empty, drunken beer cans
clatter down a sober alley
under a drowsy neon halo
'neath a groggy full moon.
I remember times when
I would float on your vibes
We were still just friends,
Take everything in stride
Your voice kept me Zen
The ghost in my shattered mind
And the ink in my pen
You scream at me inside
Through memories I've held in
At least I know I tried
To be your perfect friend
But some things would rather hide
Inside the shell of inhibition,
My life is stuck in repetition
Live well pure bliss
Love echoes peace
Kind words now speak:
Watch beauty peak
Wear lovely eyes:
Love fondles sighs
Charm lives clear poise
No need for noise
Fond grace walks brisk
Love dares to risk
Fine face blooms smiles
A classy style
Kind heart knows ease
A certain peace
Let cheer find room
For soul to bloom
Seek to bring light
To touch most bright
Here in the dark
We need bright sparks
Love helps you see
Wholeness set free
Each soul a part
As oneness starts
Leon Enriquez
19 July 2017
Singapore
TIPSY GYPSY
To be -
We’ll see!
Or not…
Forgot
My lines -
Drink wines
Tipsy
Gypsy
Steal show
Then go
10/23/2016
Five fabulous fun footles contest
1st Place
tipsy night—
searching for the milky way
between double moons
Kashinath Karmakar
http://www.dailyhaiku.org/haiku/2014-december-17
Limerick : Once a tipsy Lord of the Manor
Once a tipsy Lord of the Manor
Took leash to be led by Labrador:
His Lady called him back -
Tied the tail on its back
But the dog turned tail behind the door.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Limerick : Once a typsy Toddy-Tapper took Wench
Once a typsy Toddy-Tapper took Wench
Up coco-nut tree with monkey wrench
He pumped her full toddy
Till Wench was tight giddy
But she hung on to ? nuts with wrench.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Last night I was in curious about number nine
Many articles said number nine is the perfection number
All that related with nine come back to nine
Try the multiplications of nine and see the results
Plus the two digits all will come in nine
Some say nine is "God's number" pretty much convincing
But still not catch the correlations God with nine
Seek for further they offered some calculation of pythagorean
Mind squeezing, brain stunned, black out, tipsy by nine
Note:
1x9=9
2x9= 18=1+8= 9
3x9= 27= 2+7= 9
4x9= 36= 3+6= 9
5x9= 45= 4+5= 9
And so on...
1st place
9 contest
Sponsor Tracie- Indigo Dreamweaver
"in a tipsy frame of mind"
my pen point was swirling and twirling to be
on a romantic adventure so fun and fancy free
with a tipsy turn here and with savoir faire' there
escaping to the Poetry Palace swimming for a "pen-mate" mare.
lo! and behold! being drunk with emotion
my pen jumped a dive in word-infested ocean
it rolled and it stretched; back strokes, as it fetched
on it's clip, hung by hook, the word "love" was etched.
my pen was so excited as another invited
in a drunken stupor, would love be unrequited?
as the black and gold form grew all toasty and warm
came face to face as a SHARPIE did swarm.
the moral is simple: when the love bug soon soars
beware! of the SHARPIE whose inks bolder than yours!
*For Joann Grisetti's Drunken Pen 2 ...
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