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Best Poems Written by Loreen Parke

Below are the all-time best Loreen Parke poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Bag Whores

Bag Whores to my left.  Bag Whores to my right.
Bag Whores beating at my door, morning, noon and night.  They know you got IT, 
and they’re looking for another free high.  
They all have the same old ‘Bag Whore’  Standard-Stock lie.  
Talking about how they plan to cop  TOMORROW,  
But:  Right now, they really need you to help them get by...  
And:   ‘TOMORROW’    they will be sure to remember to 
call you before they  ‘Drop On By’
Don’t even let a Bag Whore in the door,  
or you’ll be dealt in a very big way.  Once they get in  they  just 
don’t go away.  Once they’re in they’re not going away.
This is the standard M.O.  of a Bag Whore on any day.  
They’ll be grinding their teeth,  and chompping at the bit.
They’ll  just can’t wait for you to give them a huge,  
bellowing,  ‘Hoover Vacuum Type’   hit.
The Bag Whore will hound you,  pestering you until you  
break out your smoke.  Then they fry your bowl  
and scorch your pipe beyond any hope.  
They always want more, even when you tell them it is gone.
Next thing ya know,  they’re melting down your stems, 
Your glass is etched and that is just too many shades of   
BAG WHORE DONE GONE AND  WENT  WRONG!
You can always tell when a Bag Whore has a stash of their own,  
Because they are suddenly nowhere to be found.  
But once theirs is gone,  they’ll be back,  lurking about, 
just lingering around and blatantly hanging out.  
So the next time the neighborhood Bag Whore knocks 
on your door,  just tell them that you have 
No More, No More, No More!
And for God Sake, what ever you do:  Don’t open the door.

Loreen Parke
May 8th  2004

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Motown - My Home Town

My name is Loreen Parke and I’m from  Detroit City.  
I’m quick.    My Mom calls me   ‘Slick’     
My  friends say I’m Witty.   
No wants.  No warrants.  No priors. 
No  dirty deals.  Strictly cash buyers.  
I’m  a very busy woman with no time to waste. 
I’ve got  Big Dreams,  High Hopes  &  Expensive Taste.   
Think slow. Talk fast.  
My connections are tight.
My options  are vast.    
Just  like the ‘Kid’    I’ve  got  my  ‘ghetto pass.’     
I grew up here.  This is my home town. 
These are the blocks that I’ve been around.
Don’t think you can show up and start changing the rules on my play ground. 
That won't fly. The  bottom of the  Detroit River is where you’ll be found. 
This is Detroit. The Motor City. The One and Only Motown.
This is where I grew up. This is my Home Town.


Loreen Parke
May 22nd,  2004

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A Wolf's View of Man

I am a wolf, I’m meant to be free.  
Not locked in a cage or chained to a tree
I am born to live in the wild, but please,
Don’t let this be cause for alarm.
I am a peaceful being.  I mean you no harm.
Like you, I have a family with young to rear.  
I commit to only one mate for life.
My family is my pack, and I hold them dear.
My very existence is viewed as a threat by Man.  
He feels he must eliminate my kind, claiming
It’s the only way to protect his family, 
Protect his children, and save his land.
My species has been hunted to the brink of extinction.
Man strives to see that my kind is forever banned.
Other Men keep my kind locked in cages.
Deprived of our freedom and forced to mate.
Then our young are taken away 
So they can be sold for the going rate.
Man says that he knows all about my kind.
Man says he knows exactly what I am.
But the truth is:
Man is the one that just doesn’t understand 


Loreen Parke
May 22, 2000

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License Out of a Cracker Jack Box

Good God Man!
What are you people thinking?
If you can’t drive that can any better then that,
You better give it to me.
It’s enough to make me want to start drinking.

Stupid Bimbo.
Your bulb isn't too bright…
Maybe if you weren’t yapping on your cell phone,
You wouldn’t have driven through that red light.

Blasted Blue Hair
You gotta be at least a hundred and ten.
How can you drive when you can’t even see over the steering wheel of that brand 
new Mercedes Benz
Afraid you might get somewhere?
Scared that you won't?
The sign says DO so you DON’T

Nice turn signal Buddy. 
Think you need to use all four lanes at the same time?
Didn’t  they teach about  those 2  bright yellow stripes in the middle of the road? 
It’s call the Double Yellow Divider Line

How cool is it to be you?
Show me again what your too cool car can do.
Pay no mind to the photo radar snapping a picture of you.
Got mirrors? Know how to use them?
Here come the red and blues.
Hope your paperwork is in order.
It’s goon suck to be the late breaking story on the 6:00 news.

Loreen Parke
July 10th, 2006

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The Clock That Holds the Time

A perfect porcelin, bright and shiny, glimmering tower.
Colorful strings glide through the air, as if landing.
Landing on patches of grey snow, along side the road.
Fumbling in the dark
Searching for the glowing numbers on the bright and shiny porclin clock
Fumbling in the dark
The colorless curtains sighe
In the light, reaching for the comfort of the window
Escaping the grey sight
A smalll white fragile figure, bright and shinny and glimmering
with eye make up smeared in streaks, tiny red lips, with a tiny
chip on te parted lips.
Colors beaming from the ceiling.
Casting upon faces fumbling in the dark with eyes admiring the 
glowing numbers on the clock.
The black window is so clean and clear and once colorless curtains
now shine brightyly with colors reflected from the bright and shiny, glimering tower 
that holds the delicate, tiny, porcilin clock.

Loreen Pare

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Endless Miles and Passing Time

Thoughts of you are always on my mind.  I keep them safe, in a place that only I can 
find.  I keep them along with the memories that we can never share, memories of 
the times that neither of us were ever there.  I keep them dusted and polished so 
they will never lose their shine. I make sure they don’t become tarnished from the 
endless miles and passing time.
I wish I could rewind the hands of time, even if we could have just one more day. I 
would use it to tell you all the things that we never found the time to say. I wish I 
could build a bridge that would gap the endless miles between us and we could 
meet half way. I would tell you how much I have missed you and how sorry I am 
that we let time pass by and we were never able to find our way.
I wish we could have a second chance to appreciate the gift of time. A second 
chance to have the memories that we can cherish, to have the memories that we 
have missed, and now can never find.
The endless miles between us never seem to lose their way, and the passing time 
passing time seems to keep on passing us be, faithfully, each and every day.
So I will keep my thoughts of you forever on my mind. I’ll keep them safe in that 
place that only I can find. I will keep them along with the memories that we never 
found the time to share and I will always regret that neither us took the time to find 
a way to be there.
I will continue to keep my thoughts and memories of you dusted and polished, so 
they can always shine. I’ll continue to make sure they never tarnish from the 
endless miles and the passing time.

Loreen Parke
September 2005

Written for and dedicated to my Father, Larry Park

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Bowl Call

So!  You think you're ready to ’Bowl’ with the ‘Big Dogs?’
You think you got what it takes to hang?
This is no place to be if you are ’Weak of Lung’ 
or suffering from a chronic case of  ’Crap-4-Brains’
We’re Real Live, Big Time, Home Grown, Hard Core
‘Bowlers’ around here Pal.  So have no doubt.
Welcome to ‘Bowling  -  101’
Once we’re finished with you, you'll know what
“BOWL CALL”
is really all about.    
Having your act together tends to pay.
As a Bellowing ‘Bowl Call’
can occur at any time of the night or day
When this happens, Do Not Panic!
Do Not Dilly  -  Dally   -    Dawdle   or   Delay
Just calmly drop what (or who) you're doing, and
report for ‘Bowling Duty’ straight away.
Arriving late for an ‘Official Bowl Call’ 
is considered a blatant ‘Party Foul’
Penalties run very high indeed.  A first offense carries a mandatory surrender of your 
bowl and the immediate confiscation of your weed. 
Rookie maneuvers, followed by feeble excuses will not be tolerated, 
So make no mistake! We smoke our brains out around here, 
but only until we’re lightly toasted. It’s the Brownies that keep getting baked.
So this is it Pal, step up, smoke down.
It’s not as harsh as it seems. 
This is your chance to live every  Bowler - Wanna - Be’s   Wet-Bowling-Dream.’ 
So the next time you're just kicking it with your favorite 
‘Kind Bud’ and a familiar ‘Bowl Call’ echoes thru your chronic haze... 
 You’ll think of the years of dedication and practice and how you’re still so amazed. 
 ‘Junior Bowlers’ from all around will hear of your early ‘Bowl Calling Daze’   
and how high that it pays…
 to be a ‘Bowling Icon’  as you keep Rolling Bluntly, 
through your ‘Remaining Bowling Daze’


Loreen Parke
November 11 2003 

Written for and dedicated to my friend 'Tiny' who originated the very first Bowl Call

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Saga of a Yipper Yapper

Written for anybody who has had to listen to a Yipper Yapper:

Yippin’ and yappin’ all day long
Always right, while everybody else is wrong. 
 Thinking you know it all,  about everything there is,  
Always got your nose in everybody else’s biz.
You know all, seen all,  and done all too.
Where would any of us be without you?  Well, If you’re keeping score...
Good thing you’re here to help those of us that are   “ Knowledge Poor”
I guess without you, we wouldn’t even be able to find a door.
Was there ever any hope for us, before?
Barking orders all night and all day
Ever wonder why it is that nobody jumps to obey?
Or why nobody hangs on every word that you say? 
Poor Baby! What's the matter? 
Did everybody took their toys and go somewhere else to play?
You making my head spin,  all of your yippin’ and yappin’ all day
Always Interrupting, and butting in.
Never listening, maybe  someone else has something to say.
The Energizer Bunny has nothing on you today.  
Other people know how to talk too... Are you listening to me?
Bend over, there is some place I want to put my shoe.
This is too much, I can't listen to it all....
What ever!  Excuse me, I need to make a very long phone call.
Just give it a rest. Just don't yip or yap for 5 minutes, OK?
Don’t start again, I mean it!  Don’t do it, I mean it, don’t do it I say….
That’s It!  I can’t stand it any more,  
I think I’ll nail your tongue to the table today.

Loreen  Parke
January 23rd,  2005

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A Message For My Friend

Please do not feel sorrow when someone asks about me,
or when you hear someone mention my name.
My wish for you is to feel joy in remembering me, 
and to somehow free yourself from this grip of pain. 
Remember that I chose you. If I had the choice to make again,
it would be the same.  So please don’t feel sad,
and alone my friend.  I have not left you behind. 
I am always going to be with you.
The bond we share is stronger then the measure of time. 
If you listen, you can hear my songs as they echo through the trees. 
A soft whispering melody.  A kind and gentle breeze.  
Even though my mission in this life time is complete
It doesn’t mean our time together is over and done.  
My spirit lives on in the life force of my Son.  
Celebrate my life with him. He will help your heart to mend. 
Let him guide you the rest of the way.
His heart is pure, and his devotion to you will never end. 
I promise that everything is going to be OK
Just remember that I chose you, and we will see each other again.
My dear and trusted friend,.. 
One fine, beautiful, and bright sun shining day.
 
Loreen Parke
May 18, 2004

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Lobo Little Man and His Boy Teka Long Tounge Maroo Part One

Lobo Little Man, and his boy Teka Maroo
Put them together, and no telling what they might do.
Sweet as pie they are, sporting too many shades of innocence on their face.
Showing off their perfect manors, with their majestic elegance and their
well defined grace.

They will suck you in with this cleaver and convincing disguise. 
Watching you the whole time, waiting for opportunity to arise...
They are Master Minds at this game. and you're the next human
taking a ride on their Gravy Trane

Once they have your trust, then their plan is off the ground.
You'll feel the need to give them snacks (they're so cute)
You'll find something for them, somewhere, laying around...
When you come back, they'll be long gone, off to hit the town.

You'll stand there holding pieces of last night's left over steak,
Realizing that they somehow managed to unlatch and open the front gate.
By then, you will have done been played, by this time, it's too late.
There will be nothing you can do, but worry, wonder and sit and wait.
They must have thumbs, you will think...
How else could they have unlatched and went out through the gate?

They'll have gotten blocks away, and you can bet they're laughing about it too.
Care and concern thrown to the wind, there's just so much for them to do 
They'll be gone all night, and they'll stay gone the next day, maybe even two.
And don't think for a moment that they are the least bit concerned about
what you may be going through.
They're far too busy with so much to do.
They planned it the whole time. They out and out snow balled you.

Eventually the phone will ring and a chipper voice will say these words to you:
Hello. Ahhhh, this is so and so, and, ahhh, I live in Tim-buck-Tooo
(Which is going to be at least 20 or so miles away from you) The voice will say:
Just callin’ to let you know that I sorta found some dogs (then they will spit) 
that maybe, might, (spit again) just belong to you.
They came right up to me, as if I were somebody they actually knew. Whew Doggie!

Continued in Lobo Little Man and His Boy Teka Long Tounge Maroo Part 2