Best Aid Poems
Chug-a-lug, Chug-a-lug –
no matter the fly in our
President's mug, the bug in
his thinking...my reflecting on
his ailing brain, and it's obvious
volume shrinking:
Those mindless, confusing rants,
Bidden juices-up; Psaki, drinking
without blinking – regurgitating
at deceptive White House briefings –
propaganda validated by shameless,
would-be reporters, were it not for
their obvious conscription – their
sacrificial genuflecting, having
sold their souls to the Golden Calf
of Soros wealth and tyrannical
influence –
For Progressive compliance – securing
her high place of worship in a Marxist,
Totalitarian Kingdom – Pelosi suggesting
free ice-cream be given to all, in place
of Tried-And-True, Good Old, American
Freedom –
I’d been bitten by a mosquito she was such a hungry beast
She landed on my arm, and on my blood she had a feast
My arm got red and itchy as she’d taken a tasty bite
Two red bumps appeared, my poor arm it looked a sight!
Victor called the waitress over and whispered something in her ear
He’d asked her bring some lemon slices; I thought this very *****!
The lemon slices arrived – but they were not to go in gin
Victor gently took my arm and rubbed the lemon on my skin!
The itching disappeared and soon the redness was gone
Next time I go to Malta I’ll put some insect repellent on!
A true story from my recent visit to Malta. I am so grateful to Victor for his wonderful tip it really was 'lemon aid'
11~04~16
Tom's facemask sports a charming smile
For Cheerios - that's British style
But Putin's staff
Can't help but laugh
Tom's munching Marmite all the while!
Cut the cancer,
Lance the boil,
Oil the rash,
Gash the unnatural growths
Inside your soul.
And splash on sentiment, afterward:
Cheap antiseptic, but it won’t sting.
The council meets, all hours, to hear old batty dames yell, what a *****,
we don't think she's a good person, because she doesn't look and act like us.
The soldier's hall considers, is it fair to wage war on a witch?
She isn't supposed to take up arms, isn't supposed to think about war.
But you, cry in my arms and say, "I wish to be loved, why won't some girl
like me? I'm too fat", you say, and all I can offer is take a walk, eat less.
The mother's brigade is unhappy they have their blessed babes pushed in carriages
and shun the woman unable to have children, just offering to baby sit.
The father's brigade is unhappy to be stuck with the bills or to have a walkout wife
and shun any woman who demands her rights to have opinions and money.
But you, tell me of your lack of money, to eat, to drive, to visit friends
so I send money and delight in the happy tales of movies and dining.
I look across the pattern of life and find the dips and downtrodden and say,
what about artificial families, people who sit with our kids and lunch and help homework?
Cursed be you, you say, you have no children, you offer no aid, and steal
this poem, passing it friend to friend and say, what do you think?
Will it help our children gain confidence to have another adult listen?
Will it help those with no parent to have and adult praise and question?
Is it my age I ask and the answer is yes, this is an age of all too opinionated
people failing to listen to the wind, to the silence, to the dreams, to the crying
taking asking looks at their neighbor saying am I keeping up, has that other
person got ahead? I'll not help them because they aren't needy enough
to offer guidance to those who have no time to look beneath beds, look
beneath the society, beneath the judge's bench and find the better way.
The silent one has taken away the light from your world, taken the song away
from the sorrowing, taken the whip from the brutes, and walked away.
She has a life, she has needs to find out more of the truth of reality
she doesn't like the people she sees always sitting in judgement and never listening
to the wind, the truth, to justice, to the downtrodden, to the lonely, to the unforgiven,
to the beaten, the one that finds her mind her best hidden asset you won't accept.
Some wounds may run so deep
They never fully heal
Until you discuss how you feel
To the one who wounded you
It may not be easy
But heal your wounds with a band aid of love.
It may not be easy to forgive
Especially if it stops you live
And takes away a part of you
Leaving us sad and blue
But sometimes we let things fester
Carrying around an uncomfortable stone
In our shoe
Sooner or later we need to let go
And realise the only person
The only person who is hurting you now is you/
Don't be top hard on yourself
Heal yourself by learning to forgive
As Jesus taught us
Heal yourself with a band aid of love.
This world of ours is full of misunderstanding
And too much hate and war
We forget what is important
Like family friends and being alive
And just what we are fighting for.
We have to realise we're all far from perfect
And as humans we all make mistakes
Sometimes we need to grow up
And face the truth
Life is often what you make
We may have have a choice
We are so lucky when so many have none
We need yo grasp the moment before the moment is gone.
Better to live with peace of mind than regret
And open your heart rather than shut the door
As many a fool may never forget
Only to be weighed down with guilt the wages of debt.
But as God in his wisdom taught us from up above
Heal yourself with a band aid of love.
Peter Dome.copyright.2015.
I'm feeling a bit down, wish I was lying on the sand
With a tall glass of Kool-Aid and a young sweetie at hand
Not young anymore
Can't buy youth at the store
If we could, there's be a lineup from here to Afghanistan
Like a Band-Aid
on a gushing WOUND
She will never be enough
to hold it all together…
Merely a temporary FIX
that lead to a long term problem…
She seeped skin at the seams and
crusted over… You
infused with her inevitable infection… RAW
and bread unending pain unknowingly…
Now both ends hold on for dear LIFE
pulling at the weakened scab
Smothering it with generic “HOME” remedies
but nothing can prevent the impending deterioration…
So, day by day the superficial grime GROWS
and the unnatural wear shows… Your
Internal defenses begin peeling away Her
unyielding grip…While
External elements re-actively reinforce
this permanent SEPARATION.
Lay
Experiencing depression’s a tragic thing; it consumes soul, body and mind.
It gnaws and gnaws till it debilitates you; a remedy's what you must find!
Once caught in its clutch, it’s so hard to escape, from the pit and the miry clay:
If you don’t do this, then you’ll never again, see the beautiful light of day.
The First method to use is to set out a plan; a plan that has reachable goals.
Get some advice from a ‘reliable’ source, advice that’s not ‘shot full of holes.’
The next thing in line is decidedly tough; it’s to make sure your plan performs.
Don’t get upset with a slip up or two, it’s a ‘must’ to ride through these storms!
When all this is done then have a review, programme this in, once a week.
Already you’ve started with positive terms; things will gradually look less bleak!!
Do you care for a glass
Of what I’ve made flash?
Demons made of Lemons
In disguise of the flesh?
Splayed open in the mesh
Strayed too near my bed
Demon catcher I am I said…
Making Lemons.aid for man.
Don’t be afraid my friend…
It’s just a cascade I’ve made.
So do you care for a glass?
Of my fresh Lemon, Flash?
Form:
*Round One of an anticipated Twelve Round Bout*
With Special Guest Referee: Pyotr Kropotkin
And Everyone's Favorite Ring Girl: Leo Tolstoi
Postproduction by: Herbert Spencer and Rupert Murdoch
---//---
I'm gonna toss you away
To the crocs someday,
- And that's when I'll say:
"Try surviving through this!"
"Without receiving my aid!"
"If you think you're so 'fit' - Why not try to prove it?!"
I'm sure you're gonna say:
"Bu-bu-bu!"
"But wait! "
"I don't even know the difference between
'Darwin's theories on evolution'
and 'Social Darwinism'!"
- To which I'll likely refrain:
"Yeah-yeah-yeah;
That's what they always claim,
When they have one foot stuck in a mouth
And another foot bound for the grave..."
A lotta things are like an old band-aid
Should just yank it, but we peel it nice and slow
Think we kinda like the pain, in it we wade
Things used to be pro bono, now their quid pro quo
She’s mastered façade, playin’ games like an arcade
She loves me, she loves me not, swayin’ to and fro
Probably should evade, but for you I'd wait a decade
Your love is my drug, feenin', feel like I'm in skid row
Still feelin' like someone else would be a downgrade
Cut off my ear for you, call me Vincent Van Gogh
Serenade, I'll be by your side til I'm old & decayed
There's so much room to grow, girl we have no plateau
Kool Aid
1-glass gallon pitcher
1-tray filled with 6 ice cubes
a package of orange Kool-Aid
1 metal spoon for stirring
A gallon of Ice cold water
1 cup and a half of sugar
stir, stir, stir pour it in a cup
so hot this spring and summer "yum" now we're drinking Kool Aid
taste great wish you had some can't wait............
4/15/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2018©
The Sundress, As A Marital Aid
By Rick Rucker
Before we begin, I am a “little” weird,
In case you have not “heared,”
When my Lover wears her mini sundress,
Her bare skin, I cannot wait to caress,
Her womanly delights, just out of view,
My lust for her, she does renew!
The enticing expanse of her bare back,
The gossamer-thin fabric accents the curves that she does not lack!
When she has it on, and we are walking,
I am nearly incapable of talking,
As any woman will tell you that you ask,
No man can begin to multitask!
I have on my mind just one thing,
An activity that makes me want to sing!
Walking behind her, I can see,
The sensual goddess in front of me,
Of her, I have no favorite part,
All of her does over-speed my Heart!
As I watch her stroll along,
I am reminded of “Pretty Woman,” the song,
She makes me so proud that I could shout,
Then sing, and dance about!
If other men knew what I have waiting,
When she and I get home, it is me they would be hating!
She has found the secret to a happy life,
This woman whom I have asked to be my wife,
She can do such things to me,
My senses so overloaded, that I can hardly see,
We are lucky that what she does cannot be put in a pill,
Our country’s production would come to a standstill!
Half of our population, would die very soon,
The men would take a bunch of the pills, then swoon!
Luckily, I do not have to take that pill,
I have her next to me to thrill,
I give her a red, red Rose,
She gives me cause to curl my toes!
Removing her sundress is an art,
As I do it, exploring each newly-exposed part!
It must not be done it too fast,
I want this ceremony to last!
In fact, in a day, I may remove it from her several times,
As this really “rings my chimes!”
As I told you, I may be strange,
But this part of the day, I would not change!
If your lover wears a sexy sundress,
She is wearing it for you, I would guess,
Tell her you would be happy to help her take it off,
If you are lucky, your clothes she may help You doff!
If your love life is a little staid,
Help her buy a sundress as a marital aid!
ADELAIDE REQUIRED AID
Adelaide adored me
Ingrid ignored me
Adelaide and I made quite an odd pair
Yet Ingrid had silver silken threads instead of hair
Looking up to a cloud laden sky I prayed to heaven for Ingrid’s heavenly pleasure
Looking up to a syrupy and sunny sky I begged God that I might discover Ingrid’s buried treasure
A female fortune sealed in a locker by two silent lips and secreted between two sultry hips
But in the material that makes up time some fabric often frays while a seam sometimes rips
And even an expensive faucet drips
With assurance I assign Ingrid as an extravagant and excellent source of radiance to beheld by me
And oh to be held by her
To meld with her
As my desire swelled and I swooned to a lady attuned to and beholden to beauty
But as for Adelaide I found her ignorant and distasteful for ignoring and boring me
Whatever she chose to discuss would disgust me with distinguishable diatribes
before I forbade Adelaide from approaching me or broaching another subsequent, sequential and inconsequential subject
Adelaide adjudicated me well adjusted with an adjunct to adulation
While I grew agitated by her aggravation
Until I made Adelaide fade
And found further feminine flair in a woman with silver silken threads as her hair
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