Ax To Grind Poem
On every patrol and on every beat,
Each cop has his favorite places to eat.
The 7-11 and the doughnut shop,
Are among those places he likes to stop.
The diner, however, is a place to unwind,
And, just for a moment, forget about crime.
He knows every eye has followed his entrance,
Cause while wearing the uniform, it.s part of his sentence.
He sits facing the door and scans his menu,
As well as the consumers within the venue.
Of which one might approach him, with a pleading,
For advice on a ticket received for speeding.
While another, which alcohol has in its control,
Wonders why he is here and not on patrol.
And still another, who has an ax to grind,
Stares in his direction the entire time.
Now the waitress takes his order for bacon and eggs,
As he steals a look at her shapely legs.
But when he lifts his coffee to take a sip,
The walkie crackles on his hip.
Dispatch needs him to forget his meal,
And deal with a problem that is yet revealed.
He covers his tab and moves to the door,
And gives dispatch a reluctant 10-4.
His stomach grumbles as he returns to his beat,
And he wonders when he will ever eat.
But the scene at the accident is a gruesome site,
And he passes on eating for the rest of the night.
Copyright © Jerry Troiano | Year Posted 2015
Ax To Grind Poem
My friends call me an imbecile,
but what do they know
They're two steps below
They're idiots ...
most would agree
My girlfriend calls me a moron,
I can't argue with her
when she's giving me tough love
She's two steps above
Most would say she has an average IQ,
but I think she's smarter than she lets on to
I'm gonna move up
from the lower mental class
I'm gonna mix with the higher thinking crowd,
this will make my adopted parents proud
They say my bio parents were geniuses,
and that I'm a savant they insist
And laying dormant somewhere is my true gift
They say my bio parents went mad,
too much knowledge burst their mental bag
That's why I keep my mind quiet
most of the time
Scared of what might happen to me
should my mind start to shine
I got a conundrum ax to grind;
I want to impress that girl of mine,
but I'm afraid of having an emotional decline
So in the meanwhile,
I just give blank expressions and a dull smile
It's okay, sometimes, to be called an imbecile
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017
Ax To Grind Poem
The hurricane has come and gone
And how you fared depended
On where you live or where you were
When Irene’s wrath descended.
If you reside or had been staying
On or near the ocean,
You might have been amazed to see
The sea in roiling motion.
Its crashing waves might possibly
Have damaged your foundation,
Or caused a flood or knocked down trees
Or worse, a combination.
Many people watched in dread,
Preparing by the hour;
But all their caution was in vain
Because they still lost power.
I walked the neighborhood today –
Saw branches strewn around;
And several trees were sliced in half,
Their trunks splayed on the ground.
The promenade was filled with people
Out to check the scene.
It added something spicy
To their usual routine.
With stores and restaurants mostly closed
And nothing status quo,
They strolled along the river’s edge
With no place else to go.
The hurricane is over now,
Its havoc left behind;
And whether we were spared or not,
We have an ax to grind.
Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2011