From childhood it was a world of two...you and I...
I leaned lightly, leisurely against your heart and you let me in.
We were five I use to draw you rose scented flowers
using an ordinary led pencil. Youth! The world was ours.
Seven! I know that was the first time I saw you blush.
I whispered a song for you so no one else would hear.
Oh when we were nine! The potato sack race. I entered with Lisa.
You gave me that look. Oh that look! And you left without a word.
At eleven years old I had my "magic wink". "A Magic Wink" you'd
say sarcastically. How it made you giggle to make fun of it.
It was at thirteen we decided to burn the gym floor with our moves.
Our first dance. You stole my breath. Emptied the room of oxygen.
Fifteen...we started running and my God we ran and ran...
our shoe prints dug into the concrete. It was then I knew. Forever.
Then suddenly at seventeen in the slip of time you left, dissapeared.
Stunned! I slept through the next two years even in the full light of day.
At nineteen I swam an endless pool but even the chlorine couldn't
clear your scent from my memory as my spirit filled out hard as steel.
Was it on my twenty first birthday you showed up? You showed up
tried to hug me hello. Silent! Cold! I turned and walked away.
Was I still twenty one when I apologized for that day. When you asked
for an explanation. I recited false words but we both knew. Hurt for hurt.
Then at twenty five we still had issues to work out. I asked you bluntly
why you cut me loose in the prime of our youth. You my first and only.
I asked the question that burned in my gut. Without words your eyes spoke.
You were still in love with me. There was only me. I your first and only.
Finally our lips met to never part again. Left to wonder why, I accept our
lives without an answer. My love was that. Why would I have let you go?
Older than old now. One last time you leave. Death makes this choice.
Alone again I remember how I never knew why once you left.
Not everything is explained or understood,
like music by a one arm man playing a violin.
I sport my blank stare. Naked is the body of life.
Mystery sings blind the song of the lark!
i think of you.
March 29 2015
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
Sunrise against my neck
that no cheap tan booth could ever match.
I ring the doorbell in anticipation of joy’s injection.
I needed it.
Because I left my cell phone in the car,
as I didn’t want to hear any chimed email
or text annoyances.
And the car just got cleaned,
only for the birds to have their way
on its waxy shine.
Time to grab the flamethrower from my trunk!
But, before I could scream in Braveheart declaration,
there she was.
Her 6 yr old smile,
made of 1/4 inch gaps between innocence enamel,
captured me like no other could.
“Tio”, she preached in angelica sonata.
As she held me,
with puppy love warmth.
Even the rainbows fell to its knees.
She took off my jacket with ferret-like perkiness and
asked me to sit on the floor with her.
But, not before offering to toast me some Eggo waffles
with a big glass of Ovaltine…
…in her Little Mermaid glass,
proudly made in North Korea.
It even had the dictator’s initials and a bucktooth smiley face stamp, signed in glitter
Thank God I just took my online course in Child Safety.
I was ready!
As I sip on Little Mermaid’s curves,
shaped in plastic, swirly straw weirdness,
a sound blasts off from a Barbie radio.
My 2 yr old angel galloped into this heart of mine,
with Tinnitus piercing scream & laughter,
tackling me in Incredible Hulk lunge.
“Hi Tio”, she whispered, before she hopped back upstairs,
laughing maniacally with rapid head tilts, left to right to left.
Boys will fear her.
And I couldn’t be more proud.
After two moments of silence,
my 6 yr old angel places her Dr. Seuss book on my lap,
as she sits in front of me.
“I can r-r-read
with my eye-s
She carefully completed the sentence,
as my eyes instantly fill with leaky pride
and an ingrained smile.
10 minutes later, she shut her book and asked me how she did.
“I am so proud of you my angel.”
“You have come so far.”
I had to hold back tears because I didn’t want to throw her off.
Yet I think she knew,
because she kept her head down and smiled with gentle starburst.
And it was then where I heard her say,
“Those who matter don’t mind,
those who mind don’t matter.”
But she was quiet, looking at me with tilted head & smile.
For it was my inner child,
© Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2011
If only I could make my way to Paris
To search the boulevards and rainy rues
I'd look to find my lonely heart an heiress
An Irish lass vacationing her muse
We'd find a quiet cafe' on the Seine
Where we could sit and share a laugh or two
By candlelight we'd toast with French champagne
Pretend that we were on our honeymoon
But how could I convince her I'm the one
To make all of her fantasies come true
She knows there's more to life than having fun
In Paris hearts get easily confused
I'd get down on one knee under the stars
Give her the paper ring off my cigar
an original poem by Daniel Turner
Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016
I thought it was kind of romantic
I wasn't being a fanatic
I pulled it out in the cold
You thought that was a bit bold
I wrote it in the snow about you and me
How much I love you I wrote it with my pee
I almost froze it off - it and my left ball
Then you hurt me when you said it was too small
It's like out of the pool
It follows the same rule
Not that I expected you to drool
But you didn't need to be cruel
Now I pull it out again and what I write
Your not going to like - it might cause a fight
Not just what it says about you that is quite biting
But the fact it was your sister who did the writing
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
I * * * * To my darling !
I * * * *
I * * *
I * *
I * *
I * *
I * *
I I just want to say: I LOVE YOU!
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013
For BigFoot I searched everywhere.
In all the Northwest, he’s not there!
Then I thought I might know
where a BigFoot might go . . .
so I went where the barbers cut hair!
To fit in and be like the rest
of us humans, he’d look his best.
so I went to each shop
where I thought he might stop
to have hair removed from his chest.
To Hollywood soon I was led.
I’d heard of a man with a head
like a wolf’s, full of hair,
making everyone stare.
What I found was Hugh Jackman instead!
Then a man I could not see too well
crossed my path at a fancy hotel.
When I got a good look,
that was all that it took!
It was furry but small, Steve Carell!
The last guy I saw in that land
of Hollywood stars acted grand.
That guy, very hairy
made Big Foot less scary.
He went by the name Russell Brand.
From Hasselhoff to Bradley Cooper,
some hairy guys are super duper!
I kept at my quest
when to the southwest
I moved, for I’m always a trooper.
I searched high and low, five years more,
but by then, I had grown very poor.
I had always liked shoes,
so thought I would choose
a job in a classy shoe store.
Like Carrie in “Sex in the City,”
I loved my work, and I looked pretty
with swank heels on my feet,
yet I felt incomplete
There was no Mr. Big! Such a pity!
But while working one day without care.
I looked up Can you guess who was there?
This odd creature so tall
made Shaquille look too small.
And he hardly could hide all his hair!
No fresh smelling flower was he,
but kindly I sensed him to be.
As I stooped down to put
my hand on that Big Foot,
I knew fate had led him to me!
Written by Andrea Dietrich
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
shower curtain’s hiss
wakes me up, wakes us up
king size tent waits
Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2009
There once was a man from Niagara
whose wiener's so long it would stab ya'
but when it got little
his pills became skittles
until he O.D.'d on Viagra
© ~JSLambert 2011*****A classic "stiff" competitor, standing "firm" amongst other "members" in the "thick" of the competition:) hope everyone gets "a rise" out of it!
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.
Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.
Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.
God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."
Copyright © Pace INK-U-SCRIPT | Year Posted 2012
What underhanded monkey business
razzle-dazzle bull is this?
Whose double-crossing, flimflam scam,
debauchery or hocus sham
is wheeling dealing in romance,
putting lovers in a trance?
Antics, capers or witch's brew,
enchanting hymns or shaman's stew,
whose quackery or voodoo drink
made Casanova stop and think
and turned the ancient lovers cold;
poor Romeo and nymphs of old?
Perhaps black magic's potent gel,
or craftiness or wicked spell,
a clever con or master hoax,
or just some trickster playing jokes.
Whatever ruse that works the arts,
mumbo jumbo seduces hearts!
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2008
Princess just wants a new car.
I have told her that hers will go far.
'Oh, it's really not cool
driving this crap to school.'
'Do I need that emotional scar? '
'The kids will all laugh at the rust.
When we race, I'll be left in the dust!
I will save up some cash
then we'll make a mad dash
to the car dealer surely you trust'.
'He will make us a wonderful deal
and I'm sure you will know how I feel.
I will love you so much,
My siblings... I won't touch.
Just get me behind a new wheel'!
Now she'll be cruisin in style.
She'll be happy for only awhile.
There will always be better
and we'll try hard to get her
a car that will make princess smile.
Copyright © Mary Nagy | Year Posted 2005
A gentle kiss,
that I really must send
To another true,
and very dear friend
Pucker up babe,
it's coming your way
And riding a storm,
so it should be there today
I licked my lips before I blew,
so I know it's going to stick
But with all the lightning,
it might have a little kick
So when it hits your lips,
it might give off a little spark
Now what started off as a gentle kiss,
might be leaving you in the dark <3
*For my sweety*
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012
In days of old,
ye knights were bold
And Dragons roamed the land
Sir Lancelot, he was a knight
And Fought with Sword in hand
White horse he rode
With his lance
A shiny suit of armour
Beware this knight, the story goes
He really is a charmer!
Now one fine day, he saw a lass
And whispered in her ear
A shock he got, when she revealed
I’m lady Guinevere
In love they fell
Before too long
Merlin cast a spell
While hunting out one afternoon
The king, black knight would tell
Black knight ‘s plan
When Lancelot was banished
Shed a tear, did Guinevere
When she learned he’d vanished.
Now this legend
Hath been told
A morale doth contain
Keep your lance, tucked in your pants
And save yourself the pain!
Copyright © Roger Page | Year Posted 2010
I once dated a pilot …
We both had our head in the clouds
Our relationship lead to a lot of turbulence -
I guess it never really got off the ground!
I once dated a glazier…
He thought I would be putty in his hands
But I could see right through him…
He was constantly smashed
I once dated a policeman
Oh he was an arresting sight
He wanted to take down my particulars…
But I threw the book at him
I once dated an undertaker…
He knew he had stiff competition
I couldn’t cope as he was always ‘coffin’ and picked me up in his hearse
He had no sense of humour in fact he was dead boring
I once dated an angler
The thought he was a real catch…
But the scales soon fell from my eyes
As he was obsessed with his flies
I once dated a footballer
He thought he could score with me
Told me he had great tackle…
But it was just a load of balls
I once dated a fishmonger…
He thought he was cod’s gift to women
He invited me back to his plaice…
Where I found out he was really a cold fish
15th April 2016
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
The name's Ike.
Some a ya might a met me before,
in my very first write,
and knew me as the stalker with the walker.
"Retired Romance" was the name,
Spoke about meetin' my wife,
She's here with me, name is Jane.
I likes ta call her the Mrs.,
cause I never thought that would happen again.
Now she like ta near smother me with kisses,
but gives me room ta write now and then.
We had us one of them honeymoons,
she says it ain't over yet.
But dang, if'n it ain't over soon,
we'll have ta call me in a vet!
Ennyways, I wanted ta give y'all a heads up
that I'll be a writin' from time to time .
We'd like ta thank y'all for the nice thumbs up,
'bout our first little Retired Romance rhyme,
and let y'all know that me and the Mrs. .. well..
. ..we doin' just fine !
. "Nite nite darlin."
Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2009
CUPID NAMED LYLE
There once was a young Cupid named Lyle
who always aimed his arrow with style
with one shot straight as a dart
he hit me and pierced my heart
Aimed for a girl: he missed by a mile.
6th April, 2016
Inspired by poets who write in many different forms, I've had a go at writing my first ever limerick, which is totally out of my comfort zone.
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
She sits perched, like a gorgeous gargoyle, upon the boulder
splotched with spots of mint chocolate ice cream moss - the wind tasting
her lovely locks as if it were spicy cinnamon straight off the tree.
It excites the senses (to put it frankly) watching her gaze
pierce the sapphire roof of the world
with a challenge to be met.
Or was it the twinkle in her smile
that shone like polished ivory, reminding me of the legalities
of elephantine tusks, and the slippery slope of falling
for that gracious grin and hallowed hope.
It could just be, she's got a lasso on my heart,
that takes delight in my vertigo - flipping and flopping
much like an oval shaped wheel.
I'd ask her to grease the hinges, or go back to the drawing board,
but to tell the truth - it adds character to the path
digging dangerously into the dirt dutifully
causing a spray of pebbles to the face of normalcy.
It could just be, that letting go ain't in her vocabulary,
reeling me in like a big fish story in one of those backwater
little ponds, that spawn such discrepancy.
I'd say she's a catch, but that would be cheesy
(though that does bring to mind her chef-like tendencies,
plopping strawberries on my tongue with little tidbits
of Wisconsin sharp cheddar)
It could just be, that life according to Miss Ooh-La-La
couldn't get any better ...
... then again it could just be
I'm waxing eloquently.
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
Mom.. I think I might be homosexual..
CALM~DOWN !.. I just said THINK !..
It's not I fear
My multi~studded ear ,
Or that I look stunning dressed in pink .
I wont complain ,
As I sip champagne
Of my blemish~free youthful looks ,
Or how I enjoy the finer things in life ;
Like fine art , or poetry books .
NO !.. I never joined the Girl~Guides .
You're being silly...patronizingly .
I dont like damp
But I do love camp....
'Specially in Summer , by the sea .
I like being with Brad and Christopher ;
Young Lloyd is such a dear
And Mourice is such a sweet lad ;
Yes.. I'll always keep them near .
But , deep inside my inner soul
When push will come to shove .
For my own part ,
Who has my heart ,
Yes !.. It's Annie I really love .
But one thing that still bothers me ,
And will , until my dying day ....
Is , when on that morn....
Yes!.. When I was born..
WHY ! !.. Did you name me GAY ??...
Copyright © Sean Kelly | Year Posted 2008
This is just for fun..=)
In the basement of my heart
there is a basement
and in that basement there are two basements.
You open one
and enter the basement
only to find out there is yet another basement
That basements basement
was light and blue
But that basements basement
from basement to basement you walked
until you couldn't anymore
The basements basements
basements basements basements
basements basements basements basement
of my heart.
You found my love...
Copyright © Anya Chebukina | Year Posted 2011
Where is it now that I put my heart
The last time I took a break from love
I remembered thinking I wouldn’t need it for awhile
So I put it in a place high above
I feel so silly now
I mean it’s so important
And I knew I would need it again
But I was trying to be logical
And I wasn’t ready
With my heart to contend
I don’t know, maybe it’s a sign
And I’ll just leave it hidden away
It’d be so much easier if that dreamy voice
Wasn’t always purposed my way
Gosh if only you knew
Dag gone I bet you do
How when you lean in close for affect
The breath of your whispers
Leave me completely unglued
When they gently caress my neck
Oh men! I can’t stand ‘em
See that squint in my eye
And my nose pointed up in the air
My arms are folded and I’m quite determined
Then you turn and catch my stare
Oh Geez! I used to be much better at this
You ask for my number to phone
I give it to you willingly
But for three days
Copyright © Laurie Ginn | Year Posted 2009
Darlin I just cant keep a eye on you.
Everytime I stop to relax.
I find were threw.
You say leave but dont go far.
Untill you find yourself my dear.
I'll be down at the bar.
So many moods for such a little person indeed.
Forget me when your pissed.
And call me whenever your in need.
Your love is like a brick.
It really hurts when thrown.
You left me a million messages.
Dear crazy women please leave
You dont know how to act normaly let
alone when you drink.
My darlin you dont need anything except for a
And maybe a nice straight jacket with a muzzle
After you stabbed me lastnight.
You really didnt have to call me in the hospital
and tell me were through.
They say love is sweet but this
seems more like a lemon.
The moral of this story fellas
is dont mess with crazy women.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…
who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
I do not know?
I never wanted it to be this way, I never wanted to feel the pain. Bruises all over me.
Invisible but I can see them.
You hurt me everywhere. My heart is shattered and the blood has frozen. But I won't be
Stare at me like this all you want. Try and hurt me with your words just as long as you
don't use fists.
I don't ever want to be your victim. I refuse to be one of those few girls who end up
losing their whole world.
Love isn't supposed to hurt, but maybe I was just naive because the moment I loved you my
heart never stopped bleeding.
I won't be your victim, I won't run away. If you have something to say I won't avoid it.
I'm not scared I can take whatever you try to throw.
Don't hold back I promise you I will not cry. The moon is shining just like all the
diamonds that you called pretend love I can't even imagine why I fell so hard.
It's never clear until the glass of water is gone. But now that you've gulped me to the
last I want you to know I won't be your victim.
I kissed vulnerability goodbye the very last time I cried over you and I won't be your
victim your not even worth it.
If you feel like you must shove a door in my butt but don't make me afraid because I
don't want to be I don't want to be your victim.
Let go of my hand so I can peacefully drive away if you want me to I can drive over you
as well. But don't make it seem like i'm causing you pain because it's obvious to see
that I've been a victim and it's a shame.
But I don't want to be it anymore then you so just let me go and I won't have to run. I
promised you forever I laugh at this now you were never eternity love in my mind.
I kept counting until the madness in ourselves would corrupt. Tears flash down my eyes
as I speed down the lanes. Two bottles of Gin and I think i'm going insane.
It wasn't until I crashed into a tree that I realized I was never your victim I was
merely your suicide mission.
Copyright © Shahana Jackson | Year Posted 2005
“Who am I,” asked the Bunyip. “What am I doing here?”
“Please tell me,” begged the Bunyip,” for my purpose isn’t clear.”
“No answer!” came the stern reply; “You’ll get no help from me!”
Poor Bunyip, he began to cry, “Doesn’t anyone know me?”
And thus he went a-wandering, searching far and wide
For someone who could put an end to his longing, deep inside.
One day, he found a piece of glass, discarded by a lake.
He gazed into its surface … OH! That was his big mistake!
For in that glass, he met Himself … the image struck him dumb;
No-one could love that ugly mug! (Except perhaps his Mum …)
So, overcome by black despair, the poor old Bunyip sobbed.
The tears poured down his warty cheeks, and ran into his gob.
He cried all night, and then all day, and then all night again.
The rain it poured, the wind it howled as if to voice his pain …
Then suddenly emerged a shape, out of the Primal Soup,
Round and warty … big and black … The Bunyip was cock-a-hoop!
“Who am I?” asked the creature,
(In strangely girlish voice.)
The Bunyip’s pulse began to race …
His lumpy heart rejoiced …
“What am I?” begged the creature.
“Oh! I WISH that I could see!”
“You’re a Bunyip!” cried the Bunyip,
“And you look, … well,
“Just like ME!”
A bunyip, as our Aussie members will know, is a mythical creature - or is it?
They are said to inhabit small ponds, and are lovable - but not handsome ...
Copyright © Frances King | Year Posted 2009
LOVE IS LIKE.........................
Love is like a pair of shoes!
Easy to abuse, or tossed in the trash when over used.
Love is like fire,
soon you'll get burn, or the flames will just simply turn off!
Love is like a car,
always finding ways to get it fixed, or searching for a better one!
Love is like a calendar,
changing days, weeks in 12 months, with resolutions never accomplished!
Love is like dirty laundry, you put it to the side!
Love is like a song, winds up all kinds of emotion before it ends!
Love is like a teacher, never appreciated!
Love is like dirt, easy to step on, or sweep away!
Love is like make up, easy to remove with tears!
Love is like a battery, draining all it's juice till it runs out!
Love is like a model, full of $h*t!
Love is like a Doctor, dumping hurting news with a cost!
Love is like a remote control, to many buttons to push!
Love is like the universe, confusing without knowing what's out there!
Love is like power, to hard to handle!
Love is like a fart, it really stinks!
Love is like a coloring book, scribbling pages to get it over with!
Love is like a flower, that will die eventually!
Love is like an egg, one way, or another it has to break or rot!
Love is like a shadow, it only happens with light!
Love is like a roach, waiting to get crushed!
Love is like a unicorn, does it even exist!
Love is like a heart beat, easy to stop!
I think I had to much fun demoting love.
...........Instead Of promoting (LOL)........
Love is like wow! if you really must know!
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
There once was a monkey named Frank
Who loved to walk the plank
He said too many jokes
Pulled too many hoaxe-s
Ha! Ha! Ha! Then he got a good spank
Who's that monkey in front of me
I dare to hang with you on a tree
Oh! What I do? Will you do?
Together we are like glue
Is that my flea or your flea?
~ Skat ~
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011
My puppy sure loves to lick me
He thinks I’m a lollypop.
Every time I get home he attacks me
Then kisses me nonstop.
You’d think I was gone forever
When I just left the house for the mail,
He is right at the door when I get back
With a rapidly wiggling tail.
He wants to eat everything I do,
Mom says, that’s not good for a dog.
We want to keep him fit and healthy
So daily we go for a jog.
My toys are all tattered and ragged
My socks are his ultimate aim,
Doesn’t matter how much it upsets us
He thinks it’s all some kind of game.
I know he’s a bit of a stinker
That always wants to be fed.
But I sure am in love with my puppy,
Every night when we cuddle in bed.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
Oklahoma cowboy, tough coal miner’s son
Born in Henryetta, south of Tulsa some
Raised by daddy’s momma, taught him wrong from right
Daddy taught him ropin’, taught him how to fight
Herding made no money, its stock was really down
Mamaw feeling poorly, dad mining at Old Town
December seventeenth, in the year of twenty-nine
Dad was shoring timber, 9th west entry of the mine
The gas ignited close to him, he never smelt its breath
It belched out fire and thunder, and everlasting death
Sixty-one they counted, who wouldn’t see the sun
Twenty-five weren't recognized, they buried them as one
On that fatal Tuesday, the boy became a man
Had to make a living, had to have a plan
Heard about the oil patch, got a chance to try it
Drill the earth for all she’s worth; keep it turnin' to the right
Some they called him weevil, some they called him worm
Some they wouldn't speak to him, figgered he was just short term
They told him "Open up that vee door; go to get the key
It's in the possum belly, in doghouse number three"
Took his turns at floor hand, at first a little green
Became the fastest broke out hand the driller ever seen
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right
The driller called him partner; the pusher called him son
The other roughnecks shook his hand, and took him in as one
Got up on the monkeyboard; learned to spin the chain
Pumped that mud and shed his blood, and worked right through the pain
On a bitter frosty evening tour, in a cold December snow
He saw derricks lit like Christmas trees in distance far below
He saw the fairyland of the refinery, shining through the night
He saw Mother Earth and the universe, all turning to the right
The oil patch was a hard life, moving all the time
But he saved a lot of money, didn't waste a dime
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right
Sent his kids to college, working through the years
One became a teacher, the others engineers
He hung up his hardhat; he shed his steel-toed shoes
Then one day he passed away; he'd finally paid his dues
Made it to the Pearly Gates; they handed him his wings
Handed 'em right back to them; said "I don't need these things.
I want to do some drilling. That's my heavenly plan."
They said "Go talk to the Devil then, cause he's the company man."
Old Scratch needed hellfire; he always come up short
Too many politicians and others of that sort
When he heard they had a driller, he jumped up with delight
He danced a jig, "You've got your rig. Keep it turnin' to the right."
Now he drills for hellfire; in the derrick he's got Jake
Buck and Sam on the platform; Sonny's on the brake
They all grin like demons; they're all where they belong
Doing what they love to do, they sing their roughneck song
"We all eat caliche and drink the devil's brew
Play dominos with Satan and skunk him at forty-two
Work all day on Sunday and honky-tonk all night
We're oilfield trash and we'll take cash to keep it turnin' to the right
We all love West Texas; it's like the Promised Land
Horny toads and rocky roads, and even dunes of sand
Dust storms every morning, northers every night
We get tans and freeze our cans to keep it turnin' to the right"
The lingo used around the rig you won't hear much in church
It'll curl your hair and make you stare and leave you in the lurch
So close your eyes and realize it's gonna get much worse
Drink your beers and plug your ears; here comes the final verse
"We p*ss longneck Lone Stars; we f*rt Frito pie
Give us ****, and we will spit some Red Man in your eye
Don't **** with us, or we will cuss and bring you to the fight
We're low class, but we kick *** to keep it turning to the right"
Coal mining, oil drilling and Hell - Doesn't get much darker and deeper...
Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2012
So you want to get to know me, ok, well here goes.
Most of it's in my poetry, but I may have left something out, who knows?
For the last twenty years, I've been wearing Nike high tops that are black.
They're alot easier to clean then white ones, that is a definite fact.
My friends all seem to like me, and I greet them all with a big smile.
I've met alot of them through a life of partying, but now thats been over for awhile.
My favorite book is the bible, because whenever I read it I learn something new.
My favorite movie I couldn't really tell you, since I have seen oh, quite a few.
My favorite song is from Tim McGraw, it's "Live Like You Were Dying"
In a funny kind of way it refreshes my soul, and I usually end up crying.
Favorite singer I don't really have one, so I guess it would have to be myself.
Because I just love it when I sing all the words, and don't need anyones help.
My hair is a dirty blond thats straight,short and very fine.
It doesn't have a single curl, and I know it's all still mine.
My favorite shampoo is Pert, it leaves my hair so silky smooth.
With the fine and thining hair that I have, it's the one I prefer to use.
My favorite food is pizza, but fresh baked bread is my favorite smell.
If I had a food I'd eat everyday, that is the one that would put me through hell.
I have everything I need,with only a few things that I dislike.
The only thing I want or really need, is the love of my loving wife.
Contest:All About ____???
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012
Flailin’, flailin’, flailin’;
There goes my ball sailin’
Into a trap, the water or the woods.
Flailin’, flailin’, flailin’;
You can hear me wailin’,
“Why won’t that damn ball go where it should?
Drives go right. Putts go wrong.
I shank my wedges or ‘skull’em’ long.
My golf game’s just no damn good.
I’m swingin’ too hard & lookin’ up;
As if I’ll actually see it go in the cup….
As if it ever really would.
My alignment’s too far left or right.
My ball can find the only tree or trap in sight,
Even if the shot starts out lookin’ good.
These days, I carry some special tools:
A handheld weed eater with extra spools
And a pruning saw, in case I’m in the woods.
I’ve even tried to ‘buy’ a better game.
No matter. My scores were just as lame.
Those new clubs didn’t do what they should.
Bogies & doubles...even triples... are common scores.
I very rarely get pars any more.
Believe me, I’d change it if I could.
My buddies said it must be me,
A teaching pro I should go see.
They said he’d fix my game…..if anybody could.
The pro said, “Hit some balls while I watch you.
Just set up and hit’em like you normally do.
We’ll see if I can do your game any good.”
After the first bucket of balls I hit,
He calmly said, “Take two weeks off…then quit.
Take my advice. You really should.”
Now, what really has me vexed,
I’m wondering what I’ll try next.
That pro’s advice was no damn good.
So, I struggle along with my flailin’ game;
But, strangely enough, have fun just the same,
Finding hope in rare shots that are actually good.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014