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Best Roy Jerden Poems

Below are the all-time best Roy Jerden poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Roy Jerden Poem

The Angel Inside

Coral life forms in copious swarms
Feast in the Cambrian chyme
Dividing their cells and forming their shells
To end on the sea floor as lime

Tectonic churning and magma upturning
Renders marble whiter than bone
The marble is mined, but the cutters are blind
To the angel confined in the stone

A young sculptor arose, with a bend in his nose
And a transcendent creative spark
Charged with ambition to fulfill a commission
An angel for St. Dominc's Ark

An artist sublime who will live for all time
His genius is to see things not shown
For an angel to achieve he first has to perceive
Its splendor enclosed in the stone

At dawning's first glow he surveys the tableau
Of the blocks the stone cutters supplied
In some he sees dreams of potential themes
But only one holds an angel inside

“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain 
As does failing to hear it and see it.”
The block that he chose was rejected by those
Who then lied and claimed to foresee it
 
With talent and skill he falls to with a will
Surrounded by rubble and relic
His method you see, for the angel to free
Is to remove all the bits not angelic

Michelangelo’s art for all time stands apart
But there's something further to heed
For there's a bit more to the fine metaphor
In the tale of the angel he freed

“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain 
As does failing to hear it and see it.”
For in all our insides a bright angel abides
And is just waiting for something to free it

To remove all the parts which harden our hearts
And chip out the darkness and pride
To smooth the rough patches and polish the scratches
And unshackle the angel inside


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

Kiss of the Eagle

Many eons passed on Earth, who only saw your face
Untouched your virgin body, floating there in space
Waxing, waning, gibbous, crescent, quarter, full and new
Selene the Greeks would call you; Diana, Caesar knew

Who would brave the ether, who would cross the void
To agitate the tranquil sea you had so long enjoyed
To softly kiss your ravaged face and return to tell the tale
Of Luna's hidden secrets beneath her powdered veil?

Three heroes took the final quest aboard their fiery steed
In Apollo's silver chariot proceeding with godspeed
Three days and nights they voyaged to their opalescent goal
On Earth they watched and worried in the halls of ground control

One held the craft outside the reach of Luna's jealous grip
While Eagle's talons cradled two who risked the final trip
They timidly approached her through the shadowy abyss
Luna waited patiently and received the Eagle's kiss

Nations watched and cheered on Terra's distant shore
As one man finally took a step no one ever took before
In our hearts and in our minds his words will be enshrined
"That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind."


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

Redneck Santa

T'were the night after Christmas, 'n' the house was all dark
Not much money for 'lectric in the ol' trailer park
Ma waitin' tables at the club on the base
Jist me and my sisters alone in the place

A big ol' blue norther, t'were a hard winter storm
We's all snuggled up close, jist tryin' ta stay warm
The trailer's as cold as a well digger's ass
Cause they come out that mornin' and turnt off the gas

I shore kinda hated to git out of that bed
But ol' Mother Nature made me git up, instead
I'd gotta go out if I wanted a leak
'Cause the toilet had bin all plugged up fer a week

Outside it 'peered warmer, which was a suprise
As I peed on the tree, sumpin lit up the skies
Them lights shined down on the yard, and I froze
Shore prayed it warn't one of them weird UFO's

As I stood thar turnin' round and around
There was white stuff fallin' and coatin' the ground
I grabbed a big buncha it up in my mitts
I thunk it was snow, but turnt out it were grits

I heared a big motor runnin' up overhead
And down come a monster truck painted all red
It bounced on the front 'n' bounced on the back
Then the driver clumb down 'n' grabbed a tow sack

He was white-haired 'n' husky, with red overalls
With ZZ Top whiskers 'n' blood-shot eyeballs
A red John Deere work cap was perched on his nut
And a WalMart white T-shirt half-covered his gut

He look like he just come off'n the farm
'Cept fer them tattoos of elves on his arm
As I stood around there jist like a complete dick
He says, “Boy ain't you gonna say crap to St. Nick?”

“Yes siree Bob”, says I, “I got sumpin to say.
I'd shore like ta know where you was yesterday.
The toilet's stopped up and we's all out of heat.
Ain't got no money and they's nuthin' to eat.”

“I was fixin' ta make it on time”, he then said.
He look kinda sheepish, and hung down his head.
“But I stopped at a bar when I finished my rounds.
And run inna St. Paddy at the Hare 'n' the Hounds."

"Ya know that he's the very best pal of St. Nick.
But there's none who can put 'em away like that Mick.
And the next thing ya know, we's over at Chances
Where that Tooth Fairy is doin' ten-dollar lap dances.”

“The Tooth Fairy a stripper? That done give me the chills!”
“Yessir”, says he, “Where ya think she gits all them bills?”
“Jist a minute”, I goes. “Where's the reindeer and sleigh?”
He turnt even redder, and then looked away.

“Well, we had a poker game goin', I thunk I would win.
I was holdin' four aces and bet everthang in.”
There was a palpable silence, a terrible hush.
“Then that damn Easter Bunny laid down a straight flush.”

“Well, I cut cards with a redneck and won me that truck
But as for the reindeer, they was squat outta luck
They throwed a big barbeque, and cooked 'em up slow
But I must say them reindeer's good eatin', ya know?”

No Dasher, no Dancer, no Prancer and Vixen!
No Comet, no Cupid, no Donner and Blitzen!
For hung on that red-painted monster truck's nose
was eight pairs of antlers, lined up in two rows.

“Anyway, I brung vittles for you and the girls.”
And out of the sack pulled six freshly skint squirrels.
“I jist bagged 'em thar in yer neighbor's back yard
Fry 'em up well, boy, with plenty of lard.”

I goes, “Them squirrels is rilly fine eatin' fer shore,
But ta git past tomorrow, we's gonna need more.”
says he,“Well, I's a bit short on cash fer today.”
And he give me six lottery numbers to play.

Then up drives my ma with bad blood in her eye
Draws out her six-shooter, jist primed to let fly.
Then lowers her arm down and commences to bawl
says, “I love you, you bastard, you tol' me you'd call!”

He says, “Boy, looks like it's not healthy to linger
Sticks his mitt out 'n' goes “Just pull on my finger.
The truck is fer you, son. I bid ya goodnight.”
And on a column of wind, he plumb riz out of sight.

I feels fevered and flushed as I stands there in awe
And I reckons this redneck St. Nick was my paw.
A voice far-off hollers, “Merry Christmas, now, y'all!
Then adds, “Don't fret none baby, jist wait fer my call!”

December 19, 2013
P.S. Them lottery numbers worked out good. We
bought a double-wide on our own lot 'n' a giant
TV and had still had lots of money left over fer
me to go to big rig truck driving school and Ma
to that there beauty college.


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

Ancient Dance

In twilight, old songs you're softly humming
Silken smiles paint tender your lovely face
Beguiling my present still, becoming
in everything, sweeter than granted grace

Deep your eyes, beheld above the stillness
of mystic mien, dismissing every voice
Caresses known in sadness and in illness
in bounty cherished, if you make the choice

Alluringly, you draw the bedroom curtain
and sing in sweetest voice of violins
Of languid looks and outcome certain
as old as Eve, the ancient dance begins

Sway, your heated honey scent of passion
and poise, anticipating kiss conceived
Shall return my longing, in your fashion
and make my life ten times a joy perceived

Great grows my love to see your moves entrance
and weave with siren song the ancient dance

First version January 23, 2014
Edited and lengthened December 2, 2014


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

Bobcat Moon

She sits on the porch in a cool desert night
A bobcat stalks prey in the day's fading light
The moon looks like a big orange in the blue
Evoking old memories she thought she outgrew

Memories of nights of moutons and mums
High stepping half-times and booming bass drums
And homecoming dances that ended too soon 
Under West Texas stars and a big bobcat moon

He sits on the beach in an evening gulf breeze
An autumn vacation in the Florida keys
The moon looks like a big orange in the blue
And brings to his mind an old memory anew

The reunion that gathered together that year
Old friends and acquaintances scattered and near
To tell stories of glories till late afternoon
And share in the evening the big bobcat moon

We sit by the lakeside past sunset one time
The end of another communion sublime
The moon looks like a big orange in the blue
And summons a vision of friends we once knew

She flies round the barrel with her long ponytail
He yells and rings joy on the victory bell
We loved them and all those who left us too soon
We'll remember them well with the big bobcat moon


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

The Empty Quarter

Desirous dust devils dance for a chromium god,
withering winds wandering whither they wish.

Silenced as shadows stretch, silhouetting strange shapes,
elongated ellipses etching the expansive emptiness.

Quickly cooling, the sunset slathers the sky in carnelian colors.

Deep desert darkness descends, a moonless diaphanous dome.
Looming above us, the luminous universe lifts our eyes aloft.

A celestial shining so supreme it spawns starry shadows,
succoring our unsatisfied souls in its empyreal embrace...

The watcher waits...

September 15, 2014


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

Halloween on the Dark Side of Town

It's a nightmare down on Elm Street. Satan's waiting here at home.
Where's that little Freddy Krueger with his nails of sharpened chrome?
And that dearest Michael Myers, as he's always sure to call?
Halloween won't be so keen without some slashers in the hall.

They're all meeting up with Jason and the other demon spawn
to pay Old Scratch a visit, so I'll leave the porch light on.
I'm your sugar devil daddy and I'll tempt you if I can,
so now open up those goody bags, cause I'm your candy man.

Welcome, all you little zombies. Here, I've got some flesh for you!
It's in a candy wrapper and so much easier to chew.
Just hold out your plastic treat bag, and hold off eating me.
The junk I'm gonna give you tastes much better than my knee.

It's so loaded up with sugar, you'll be bouncing off the walls.
So go ahead and gorge yourselves and fill the bathroom stalls.
Kneel before the porcelain god or use the toilet sink.
You can always use the practice now, for later when you drink.

You can't take a piece of healthy fruit or any home-made treat.
The media have made damn sure it's only junk food that you'll eat.
So celebrate my holiday and consume till it's obscene.
Welcome into my domain... and Happy Halloween!

October 15, 2014


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

Three Pills

If there were a pill of life so one never had to die
And you could live forever with an infinite lifespan
Would it ameliorate our problems or would they multiply?
Would justice, truth and kindness be the heritage of Man?
Swift told of the Immortals, on the island of Luggnagg
Who never passed away it's true, but got older all the time
Men became a senile husk, and women a shrunken hag
Deaf and blind, but breathing, forever unaware as slime
Ambrosia rendered youth eternal for ancient Grecian gods
But also youthful passions of jealousy and hate
Prideful, vengeful, unfaithful, epitomes of selfish clods
Endless war and endless boredom was to be their endless fate
There is a season for all things, that perhaps we should obey
But if there were a pill of life, it'd be hard to toss away

If there were a pill of power that one could somehow buy
To control the lives of others in the course of one's lifespan
Would it ameliorate our problems or would they multiply?
Would justice, truth and kindness be the heritage of Man?
It's said that Alexander made a bargain with the gods
A shorter life of glory instead of long obscurity
History says he realized his ambition by all odds
Leaping fortune's highest flames and spurning surety
But when fulfilling your potential and to realize your dreams
You must conquer all around you and bend them to your will
The world would endure another of its despotical regimes
And of Caesars, kings and despots, the world has had its fill
For in any dealings Faustian, the devil always gets his pay
Yet for some people in this world, it'd be hard to toss away

If there were a  pill of wisdom upon which one could rely
To give one deep understanding within one's own lifespan
Would it ameliorate our problems or would they multiply?
Would justice, truth and kindness be the heritage of Man?
The Lord appeared to Solomon in a vivid dream by night
"Ask! What shall I give you? Choose what you desire."
"Oh Lord, grant me understanding, that I may discern the light
Of justice, truth, and kindness. It's to that which I aspire."
"Oh Solomon, I have now made you an understanding king
Keep my statutes and commandments and walk honest in my ways
And more, because it pleases me you asked me for this thing
Wealth and honor shall be yours and I will amplify your days"
If there were a pill of wisdom that we could take without delay
Perhaps we could be wise enough for the other pills some day

February 13, 2013


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

All Hat and No Cattle

They hung around the beer joint with the finest Western wear
With thumbs tucked in their belt loops and such a studly air
But those boots weren't made for stirrups and were polished to a sheen
And on those fancy cowboy hats not a sweat stain could be seen

You could be sure they hadn't spent much time around a branding pot
For the only brands they recognized were ones on stuff they bought
And if they ever passed the time just musing 'bout their spread
I'd be the one around their middle or the one they put on bread

Just a bunch of blowhard braggarts in a cowboy masquerade
But they had the biggest pickup trucks that Detroit ever made
The beds were big and beautiful without a scratch or scuff inside
'Cause the only thing they hauled around was a horse's big backside

As they stood around outside the joint, in a smart-ass state of mind
In pulled an ancient pickup with an old horse trailer hitched behind
The truck an old green Chevy, year 'bout nineteen sixty-nine
With two high wooden sideboards and hay bales bound with twine

Out stepped a skinny hombre, with steel-blue eyes and bandy legs
But he had a rippling six-pack while all the boozers sported kegs
His cowboy hat was sweat-stained, high-heeled boots were dusty gray
He kicked off a chunk of cow pie, then he grabbed a bale of hay

He was mighty parched and dusty, but he wouldn't quench his thirst
'Cause you're not an honest cowboy unless you water horses first
The pack of fools gave out a hoot, yelled "Hey there, Texas Pete!
Get yourself a man-sized truck and take that geezer off the street!"

As he finished with the horses, up walked two ladies smokin' hot
The cowboy promptly doffed his hat, while the posers there did not
The cowboy got a long admiring look and the rounders just a sneer
As the sham was so apparent when a real cowboy was near

They flashed the dusty cowboy a big ol' smile 'bout ten miles wide 
Said "Honey, would a gent like you care to escort us gals inside?"
He winked, then gave the trucks a look and spat a stream of juice
Said, "Boys, y'all's might be bigger, but mine gets a sight more use."


Details | Roy Jerden Poem

Blood on the Saddle

We are taking a long horseback ride
On the great continental divide
    They are singing "Mule Train"
    Just like old Frankie Laine
While my poor butt is wailing "Rawhide"

The guide's muscles are trapezoidal 
With ripples and bulges steroidal 
    All the bulges I find 
    Are inside my behind 
And for sure are all hemorrhoidal

I guess I'm a poor city slicker
Of riding I couldn't be sicker
    I would rather be home
    Where no buffalo roam
With sitz bath and plenty of liquor

The trail is finally on the last branch
All the bleeding at last I can stanch
   The guide said there's a hut
   Where he'll tend to my butt
Here at the Brokeback Mountain Dude Ranch

July 13, 2014


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