Best Ann Poems
Son of a gun we were still young;
only 15 years gone by.
You were the first my kissing bubble to burst,
and for you, I think so was I.
I wanted to start putting other parts
of our bodies in the field of play;
But you stopped it instead as you paused and read
what Ann Landers had written to say:
Keep your petting on the outside, keep your tongues inside your mouth,
Keep your hands north of the border, don’t let them travel south.
There’s no use in trying to rush things and ruin the rest of your life,
So just hold his hands and hug him until you’re man and wife.
You stuck to your creed in spite of my plea,
and I didn’t want to press you;
So your hand I would hold and my tongue I would fold,
even though I want to undress you.
Late at night my conscience I’d fight,
still awake in my lonely bed;
Thinking of you and what I would do
if these words weren’t still stuck in my head:
Keep your petting on the outside, keep your tongues inside your mouth,
Keep your hands north of the border, don’t let them travel south.
There’s no use in trying to rush things and ruin the rest of your life,
So just hold his hands and hug him until you’re man and wife.
I followed your rules, played it cool
for the first ten to twenty dates;
But by the end of the year to me it was clear
we wouldn’t be tempting our fate.
So we parted our ways; ending our days
to see other people instead;
As I set forth looking of course
for a girl who hadn’t read:
Keep your petting on the outside, keep your tongues inside your mouth,
Keep your hands north of the border, don’t let them travel south.
There’s no use in trying to rush things and ruin the rest of your life,
So just hold his hands and hug him until you’re man and wife.
More than thirty years have disappeared;
For me two wives and four kids.
And as for you, I hear it’s true,
that getting married you never did.
I’ll never forget and never regret
That first kiss where we both did live;
And though I did slander poor ole Ms. Landers
to my daughter this advice I now give.
Keep your petting on the outside, keep your tongues inside your mouth,
Keep your hands north of the border, don’t let them travel south.
There’s no use in trying to rush things and ruin the rest of your life,
So just hold his hands and hug him until you’re man and wife.
May God place his hand,
In your hand today, Dane Ann,
And see you safely on your way.
May God guide the surgeon’s hands.
May the rest of us pause to pray.
A VETERAN is having surgery today.
So please God, have an angel,
Stand by Dane’s bed today.
A is for a**l
B is for balls
Share them or wear them
Tucked up in your smalls
C is for condoms
Of all shapes and sizes
D is for dicks
Made of chocolate for prizes
E is for enlarging erections
Oh wow!
F is for fig leaves
Worn you know how
G is for G string
Oooh very nice
H is for handcuffs
Double locked twice
I is for indecent
That sums it up
J is for juices
And not in a cup
K is for kinky
Whatever the weather
L is for lust, libido and leather
M is for mask, massage and minge
N is for naughty
Making me cringe
O is for oral
Taken at leisure
P is for pervert, ****, pimp and pleasure
Q is for quickie
If that is your need
R is for rampant rabbit
One you won't have to feed
S is for S and M
With shackles thrown in
T is for torture
Oh such a sin
U is for urinate
Some folk just love it
V is for vibrator
You know where to shove it
W is for whores, whips, willies and wellies
X is for x rated **** on your tellies
Y is for yeast
Well it does make bread rise!
And Z, well I'm f****d
So I'll say my goodbyes!
Brainwsh Ann-Lise
thoughts are deeds,
words are the weeds,
the mind collects sometimes,
a salesman speaks to in your mind,
hard sell his only crime,
the pressure aint sublime...
brainwash the deed,
it chimes....
Don Jonson
Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind" goes --- AFTER
Ashley even though she has thus far had in --- ALL,
Two husbands, and says she'll think about things ---TOMORROW
She marries Rhett and ---IS
Never satisfied with her life, always wanting ---ANOTHER
Man. But when Rhett leaves her in the end it's a sad---DAY
This POEM is an Example of a New Form of
POETRY Dane-Ann and HGarvey Daniel Esquire are trying to sanction
They call it “ End Line Word “ Poetry Thank-YOU
I know this lovely poet,
Her name is Ann Gilmour
She really is an angel,
One that I adore.
She's a best friend of my Auntie,
They have a lot in common,
Parkinson's being one of them
Which is really rather rotten
(Life's not fair)
I first met Ann in February,
At Auntie Liz's seventy
And invited her to come and visit me,
When I found her cousin lives so close you see.
Then I went to Eastbourne,
Ann lives right beside the sea,
In a beautiful penthouse way up high
With stunning views of sea and sky.
It really was pretty.
Now last week whilst I was walking
My dog's Treacle, Bar and Ro
I had to climb a five bar gate
Which proved to be a big mistake
(As someone had removed it from it's hinges)
And over I did go.
I heard my bone snap in my wrist
The pain was so severe
I was soon rescued by my sis
Who was thankfully driving near.
When next morning Ann heard of my plight
She put pen to paper and began to write,
(Or it may have been fingers to keypad!)
"To Restore Your Equilibrium"
A poem written for me,
Entered in to Dear Hearts contest
And got a fourth place win I see.
(Yay congratulations Ann!)
Ann has checked up on my progress
With emails full of virtual hugs
That have brightened up my day
More than any painkilling drugs!
While chatting via the internet
I was getting in such a sweat,
I had a wedding to attend
Of my daughter Lucy's oldest friend
But how would I put on my face
Or get in my Spanx to hold it all in place.
Then Ann soon came up with a rhyme
As witty as can be to
"Celebrate Your Wobbly Bits"
Not to worry how your outfit sits
And let it all hang free.
They say that laughter is the best medicine
I can tell you it is true
It took my mind away from pain
Made me want to write again
(difficult with my non dominant hand)
A little poem just for Ann
To say a BIG THANK YOU.
Hugs and kisses dearest Ann.
Mitt Romney’s wife was criticized
(Though she was not defensive)
Because she chose to wear a blouse
Considered quite expensive.
She wore it on a TV show
So she would look her best,
But journalists decided that
She’d failed the litmus test.
All those who like to criticize
Were ready with their clucks,
Delighted to reveal that blouse
Surpassed nine hundred bucks!
Though prices through the stratosphere
I cannot comprehend,
I wonder why reporters care
What politicians spend.
John Edwards’ haircut, Palin’s suits
And now Ann Romney’s blouse,
Provide the ammunition so
The columnists can grouse.
Such splurges prove to all of us
Those folks are out of touch.
They have no clue that most of us
Would never spend so much.
Yet still, I find it strange these facts
Are told with fevered pitch;
Beware of candidates like these –
They’re not like us – they’re rich!
A brand new doll, with braids and freckled face,
was tossed aside, left caged, with plastic bars.
She eyed the blue-eyed spat with no embrace.
Though box was dinged, she’d not receive sad scars.
Ann’s clean though tossed in attic space; it’s dark.
It’s not how she’d imagined play; she’s bored.
Alone and lost without a friend - trademark
and popularity, boxed in cardboard.
One day the sun blazes, a blinding hue.
Stirred doll doesn’t know how long she’s been around.
Ann’s brought downstairs, unwrapped..she’s awed…she’s new.
A hug of excitement, for she’s been found.
Her girl gives her a rocker and a bed.
The kindest soul with freckles, hair deep-red.
MORE THAN A SOFT TOY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Raggedy Ann with her patchwork heart,
more than soft cotton, calico, embroidery, and yarn,
a doll created with Mother's love,
stitched together with gentle hands.
Her gray button eyes understood my childhood world,
her red yarn hair meticulously combed,
her smile eternally stoic,
her face bore the promise of a forever friend.
She walked with me to school,
first day of school jitters, she sat, a steadfast sentinel,
on the corner of my desk,
absorbing my fear, radiating calm.
Hospital smells, a white, sterile fear~
Raggedy's soft body, a warmth against my chest,
before the cold steel, after the raw ache,
her doe-like, button eyes, unwavering.
We shared tiny cups of cocoa ‘neath the pecan tree,
her embroidered face never betraying
the weight of my childhood dreams,
my childhood fears.
My first editor, she listened tirelessly
to the endless stories I told her~
the one’s created from my fertile imagination,
without judgment, without end.
Now, she sits in Mother’s curio cabinet,
still a steadfast, quiet comfort,
her threads and stitches connecting me
to the fertile memory-filled fields of yesterday.
Her button eyes, dark pools reflecting
sepia-toned summers,
reliving ghosts of laughter,
rides on unicorns, and make-believe.
Her worn calico dress, faded and undamaged,
is stained with childhood tears,
a fabric chronicle of scraped knees,
childhood regrets, and silent fears.
She inspires me now,
grounding me in innocence,
showing that imagination
endures into adulthood.
Raggedy Ann, more than a soft toy~
she is the echo of my Mother's love,
a tangible piece of home,
carried in my arms, worn soft with time.
Riley Ann Sawyer
A little Angel she was. She came to Earth one day
her stay here was short. instead of heaven - she
found Hell. It happened in 2008 We can only wonder
and imagine what her life was like.
her mother was not with Riley's father. He was in Ohio.
she came here to Spring Texas to marry a man she found
on the Internet. the stepfather , that was suppose to take
care, love and protected her didn't, instead both him and the
mother gave her a life of Hell.
She would get beat up everyday, by both of them. Little
Riley Ann was on her own. She had no one to defend her.
I can just imagine how terrified she must have felt, when she
saw the monsters comming towards her.
She would tell her mother - I love you mommy, I love you, hopping
that the beating would stop, but it didn't. both of them took turns
beating her up. She at last found peace the day she was killed.
God dressed her in white that day and an Angel she became.
Riley Ann is now in heaven surrounded by Angels where she
can now rest in peace. But her mother and stepfather will spend
the rest of their lives in HELL...
10/08/2013
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
Note: All this is true. It happened here
where I live. Her little body was put in an
ice cooler bought at Wal - Mart. It was found
floting in Galveston Island...
With what beseeching
Would, I pray—make me equal
Thy works to perform
There once was a girl named Ann
Who had a plan to get a man
For a while it was wild
Till he learned of her child
And that was the end of that plan
Dane Ann stood beside me in my darkest hour
A poet with a remarkable power
To alleviate stress in times so sour
Her kindness and generosity empower
In thanks I extend a poetic flower
*For Adeleke’s Golden Gratitude contest
To all my Poetic Family, I would like to start a new word game It's very easy You pick a word
Define it and sign your name ( see examples below ) I will then with each author's permission
compile a PoetrySoup dictionary Anybody up to it ALWAYS...HG
Paperboy --- Origami --- HG
Armrest --- Sling --- HG
Poetry --- Word Songs --- Karen O'leary
Cackle Fruit --- Hen Egg ---John Moses Freeman * see his Comment Below
Brazier --- Boob Gear --- DAS-J( Dane Ann )
Broken leg --- Putting down three and carrying one --- Also equals new math--Sara Kedrick
Poetess Extraordinaire --- Extraordinary Creative Lady --- Linda-Marie Bariana
Poetic --- A little bug on a writer --- Sue Mason
Life Class --- Dress down, no gown --- Brian Strand
Senoir Moment --- No sap, need nap --- Brian Strand
Cool --- Kool now Koolio --- Lovely --- James Fraser
Satin Doll --- "Candy Sweet --- Alias linda Marie --- Linda Maria Bariana
Beatnik --- Long Locks, no Socks --- Brian Strand
Consultant --- Freelance Faience --- Brian Strand
Old Age --- Same Chat, Off Pat --- Brian Strand
Teenage --- Back Chat Off Pat --- Brian Strand
Autobiography --- Timeline, All Mine --- Brian Strand
Google ---Quick Look, Word Book ---Brian Strand
Errant ---Deniably Naughty --- Dane Ann
Ferocious --- Fierce Folly ---Dane Ann Continue to PART 2
Stars are but pores in the seams of heaven
From which loved ones smile down on us
Showing us they are happy, at peace
For you, dear Dane Ann, I buy a special star
The radiance of a beautiful soul
Who walked this Earth with joy and love
I give to you the star “Jeanette”
A woman like you who lit a spiritual path
And gave comfort and friendship willingly
Her star will cast blessings on your home
The light will lead you through dark times
A steadfast ray of hope and inspiration
This is what Jeanette gave to me
In memory I choose to share her brilliance
To guide you on your journey through life
*Entry for PD's contest