Best Backer Poems
Are You Dreaming of Winning a Race?
(After "Scarborough Fair" by Simon and Garfunkle)
Are you dreaming of winning a race,
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
Find sweet success when you win the great chase.
You once flew like the wind soaring up.
Tell them, your fans say they love your new flare.
(On the path at the dunes near the soft sandy sea.)
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
(Chasing the vision on dirt-laden ground.)
Relax breath deep; do not fear the jumps.
(Dashing to power the king of the fast lanes.)
You will fly like the wind soaring up.
(Tracks at your back; you race faster than all.)
Tell them to find you a sponsor with funds.
(On the road to the dunes, fans watch near sandy seas.)
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph?
(Cohorts, once bound are partners for years.)
Because they believe in your great success –
(A backer shouts and relishes the fun.)
You will fly like the wind soaring up.
Tell them to market motorcycles t-shirts.
(Fans mellow, cheering with nervous reflections.)
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
(Managers coaching their drivers use skill.)
And whenever you keep success in your mind,
(For the sake of a dream that was never forgotten.)
You will fly like the wind soaring up.
Are you dreaming of winning a race?
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
Find sweet success when you win the great chase.
You once flew like the wind soaring up.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEhAXQ5QQzs <= Performance
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/s/simon+and+garfunkel/scarborough+fair_20124689.html <
http://digitaldreamdoor.nutsie.com/pages/lyrics/scarborough_fair.html <= Lyrics
Gray skys backer to the tears; said; to a clearly ominous canvas
Millions of misty dots; swiped right; and left; truncated by this
Blades; so sharply cutting them; from left to right
Driving you away; after all, guiding was by headlight;
The destinations worth; is much more than the journey
To have said goodbye; would have been; privileged to me
I cannot stand playing hard ball, I'm a softball girl, ya know,
Hard ball is for men, I could get hurt by the balls they throw,
I would be too nervous to run to the base for fear that I would get hit,
Please God, put me back on the bleachers, it's too late..I know I cant sit,
Why couldn't I've been a cheerleader waving my pom poms in the air,
I wouldn't have to slide into home base and get dirt in my nails and hair,
Why was I built like a line backer, I get pats on the back from the guys,
They can't even see the sensitivity, the uniform is the disguise,
All they see is another player, my hair tucked under my hat,
If I tried to make the cheerleader squad I know I'm not cut out for that,
Cycles of life stream reams of joy and pain
Alternating nets and magnets of sunshine and rain
Sifting through rest and strain
When by default I favour a fault
That in my right sense I should halt
Meaning I should let go of the colt
I caress and mount to relax
Despite burdens of the tax
I endure to service the fax
That conveys messages of heightened hope
To bless, stress and trace amity angles of the slope
I negotiate to survey the scope
My love, my faith and my attitude
Scale in a hail of ingratitude
I abhor as to my rescue galumphs fortitude
To cleanse the miasma of despair
In which I sometimes declare
In a rampage as I attempt to repair
The mixed image on the visage
I project in the virtue village
I visit when hackers pillage
My reserves of preserves of humility
Blown, sown and grown with malleability
To prop up ropes I master to the best of my ability
When from despair I cringe
Despite my back swinging on the hinge
Of neutrality sauntering on the fringe
Binge can’t conquer
When hunger, thirst and deprivation in darker
Shades and hues contrasts starker
Than frustration, repression and revulsion dare to wear
In coats and coasts of boasts that tear
At my conscience as chivalry challenges dare
To nibble
Scribble
Dribble
Past endeavours and labours of disbelief
To sow and throw mischief
On the thief whose whiff and grief
Can no longer massacre
My anger protector in whose acre
Rises my invincible backer to slay and waylay the sucker
Who invades my stamina space
Concealing weapons of disgrace
That float and gloat to race
Away in shame
As my angel and I claim
Their scalps on which I place heaps of blame
To put an end to a shameful saga
Renew and revitalize my vigour
With reborn rigour, so eager for good to augur.
People don’t think of you the way that you like
who do you think you’re conning when talking all that ite
blagging everybody you come into contact with
proud of the first opportunity to take advantage of gifts
boasting about your blagging skills as if you ain’t known as a blagger who can’t be trusted with anything always a late giver backer
when the first impression you make shifts to a shady replacement
to never reappear after that first meeting you’re different
and when debts ain’t paid you never blame yourself
you go and point incompetence at somebody else
so it’s never your fault and therefore cannot be helped
treating friends unfair
until there ain’t no one there
because you just don’t care
but in your stories you swear
that you’re selfless and prepared
to save everyone who is facing despair
after blaming the individual for their own fate
comparing the fact you made decisions that they ain’t
because you make the right choices and have superior vision
sounding authentic to those who don’t expect to hear fibbing
and when you big yourself up there’s also somebody digging
and though they helped you back up you forget that as you kick ‘em
saying you wanna help as you continue to hit ‘em
acting like it’s all their fault as you leak criticism
combined with a sad face to ensure the sympathy’s given
because you lost a mate
when they fell into this place
but last month they were fake
and it was too much to take
for now they’re nowhere to trace
as they avoid you with hate
as you remove yourself
from any involvement or blame
and act all confused
saying they must be insane
because to not like you
must mean they haven’t a brain
and then you emphasis this point
by saying they’re the slow train
who you have to help by shining
a light that explains
the simplest interactions
that they take the wrong way
in fact if you speak to your friend
they would be right as rain
as the fact they don’t like you
is their stupid mistake
The narcissist in you evident
cold twisted malevolent
suffering though you’re innocent
from someone far less intelligent
now confused by developments
believing things deemed irrelevant
a friend you’ll save cus you’re brilliant
despite the painful experience
KNOCKER.B
Yes here we are in the great south land, (Australia)
right amongst the knockers be.
Don't stick your nose up or be grand,
they'll stomp yer like a flea.
In the land of knockers they take joy,
the newsmen shout it loud.
The business people they'll annoy,
if you died they'd steal yer shroud.
These up jumped yokels never were a cut above the rest,
the politicians know and hate the awful bloody pest.
But if you stand a little tall or stand out with the best,
they'll cut you down and paint you black put feathers in your vest.
Perhaps the country'd go ahead with out the knocker be.
if our monied people had the guts to back a prodigy.
Our inventors must go overseas to get a backer, gee?
no one to back the under dog, not cricket, do you see.
by D H Johnson
I’ve always been your number two
The person left behind
That person staring at your back
While you’re waiting in a line
I’m your knight in shining armor when the clouds are full of grey
But I’m the coal in your stocking when you awake on Christmas day
I’m your second place, half size, water half in the glass
That person know one knows about when you’re talking amongst the class
I’m your gold medal winner when you’re looking for a ride
Yet your second place trophy once you have arrived
I’m the part of the chicken bone when you can’t make a wish
I’m the dirt stuck on the bottom when you’re rinsing out a dish
I was your light in the sky when the sun could not shine through
Now that I’ve served my purpose I’m an afterthought to you
I’m your subordinate, assistant, that person in the rear
Yet was always your supporter, the backer, who showed you know fear
I see it now and what I am; I’m your second place
I’ll never be that someone you can look straight in the face
I’ve learned my lesson, paid my dues; I’m no one’s second place
I’m that kind hearted person who will let you win the race…
Enough Is Enough Horn Haiku
enough is enough
trump really was terrible
so we should impeach
completely absurd
totally denigrating
should get rid of trump
had been Bellau Wood
soldiers wounded and they died
so we cried and cried
trump sure is a strain
critize, condemn complain
his hair harmed in rain
were at complete loss
that caused a total chaos
out trump we should toss
trump is a trollop
while around he will gallop
what a big whallop
need another perk
system still does work
trump has been a jerk
critical and singe
what we want will be revenge
trump we must avenge
will not be backer
trump calls soldier a slacker
what a wise cracker
may be fallacy
was a scorched earth policy
trump philosophy
heard trump and his sound
cut down those who are around
that caused heart to pound
trump looked in garage
what he saw must be mirage
could be collagen
see trump and his hair
should have heard when he does swear
much more left to spare
Jim Horn
It is time for the second round
In this ghastly ghost town
Looking out there
Scenery that is a scare
They want to do it again
Knocking off good looking girls and men
First time was a success
Advertising thirteen bodies and a murderous mess
Camp counseling characters
Were the main factors
In a film with a vengeful attacker
Delusional about who was the stab backer
A mother’s enduring love was the reason
To spin a tale during the campfire season
Making white marsh mellows turn black
Using a stick to burn the gooey snack
Another entourage assembled for the cast
All having a photogenic image past
Credible enough to handle this bloody task
From one still looking for a hockey mask
Those who stayed at the bar
Discussing reality from earth to mars
Did not know things were going too far
Under the moon lit stars
Ordering up the second round
When things were going down
Made the debate act over brewing cheer
An excuse to miss the boy from lake throwing a spear
After the night filled with drink
And a discussion that made people think
Carnage was found
Not committed by those enjoying the friendly second round
In a bar far from the camp fire
Who disappeared due to being curious with too much inquire
Enjoy this second round on Friday night
Filled with a fight and a worthy fright
at this junction in your journey at this pivotal point in your life
you need to hear a word from your Sponsor, the Lord Jesus Christ
so stop and take a moment and find some quiet time
to step away from the noise and chaos that seems to be crowding your mind
it's time to declare a moratorium and seek a calm place
somewhere where the world is not all up in your face
some one on one time with God is what you need to discover
an intimate session so you can recoup and recover
people are always saying something, be it good or bad
don't listen to that idle prattle, just remember the love for Jesus had
you need to hear a word from your Sponsor every now and then
a word from the heavenly Father, your eternal friend
Joshua himself thought he would not be up to the task
afraid that he could not do all that of him God had asked
God told Joshua to be strong and have a courage that is bold
for God does not suffer cowards nor a spirit that will fold
a word from your Sponsor, your spiritual backer
Jehovah Shammah, the battle fighter and demon attacker
for as long as you stay in God and He abides in you
a word from your Sponsor will always see you through
so don't let the world make you cry, don't allow it to steal your joy
stay connected to your Sponsor and let His powers be deployed
a word from your Sponsor, a word from the Lord God
Jehovah Jireh, your provider and protector of your heart
Israel,since its creation in 1948,has close ties with Iran,which becomes the second Muslim country to recognise the Jewish state after Turkey.They become allies under the shah,Mohammad Reza Pahlavi.At the time,Iran is home to the biggest Jewish community in the Middle East.The 1979 Islamic revolution in
Iran topples the shah,dramatically ending the friendship between the two states.
Israel does not recognise the new Islamic Republic.The ayatollahs consider Israel illegal occupiers of Jerusalem and responsible for the"genocide"Palestinians.
Informal commercial links remain in place,however,Islamic Jihad becomes the first Islamist Palestinian organisation to take up arms against Israel in 1980,with Iran as its main backer and that is why Israel does not want Nuclear Iran.
Take that road down yonder, she said
Toward the signpost that reads, lickskillet
Turn right up thar and then left after that
To a highfulootin road that’s paved in black
After you see the red store building by the crik
Turn to your right and you’ll be at Old Jack’s street
From there you go over the mountain a ways
And keep moving on through the woods path
Once you’ve gone far enough to see the blue ridges
Take a turn down the hill that Farmer Joe lives on
The one where there is cattle feeding in the fields
And a old deadly lookin’ scarecrow in the corn patch
Farmer Joe won’t bother you none atall I’m fer sure
He’ll be out workin’ in the fields of corn or backer
When you see him be sure to wave and let him know
You’re a comin’ down from the holler of hardscrabble
Past Joe’s farm there is a train track in the distance
Go across that and resist the urge to take any pictures
Because it won’t be long til’ that old train comes passing
And it won’t stop or tarry for one who’s out in it’s track
Listen closely now, after you’ve gone by the train tracks
Hurry up the hill toward buttersop road and you’ll find
A house that’s covered in old moss grown across it’s logs
Its there where there lives an old woman who knows me
Her name is Molly Jenson and she’s the local spinster
She’s never held to courtin’ and proves it with her loneliness
If you go to her, she’ll tell you where else to turn around
To find the road you’re after, that one called Hillybilly Lane
I am not a Looker-backer –
forward projection mostly
my way; in fact, often
choosing the path of strongest
resistance, leaning into a
Head-wind, till so far inclined
my angle, faith is all that is
left me – I am still here –
Egotistical fools believing
that one is Lord Alone
of his or her destiny, instead of
being all supporting players
in a drama far greater than that
of mortal imagination...
I guess, I am back to Faith~ I mean,
wondering how each of us came into
being, seems an achievement with none
other than a miraculous answer (Oh, I know
the Touchy-feely mechanics involved) (and
of those Living-words, though spoken by God
transcribed by men with far less acute hearing)
– So, I will leave concerns of my
After Parting, in what I see as the capable
mind and hands, those same ones, that first
thought me
worthy enough
of creation.
I’m dumbstruck by the good luck
Of a woodchuck on a spree
The harmony of living well
And laughing heartily
But still, I often wonder
In a jungle canopy
If nature is the nurture
Of the forest or a tree
When lightning bolts and thunder
Break asunder by and by
They scare the ones down under
By the wonder in the sky
But they are not a vain glow
By the time I hear a sigh
For tears become a rainbow
When I hear a lullaby
I’m dumbstruck by the numb chuck
With a big truck full of wood
The hacker in a whacker
With a backer in the hood
For love is true devotion
By the notion that we should
The logic of emotion
By the healing hand of good.
Submitted to the
"Dumbstruck" Poetry Contest
on 8/12/2021
Sponsored by Charles Messina
About Herschel Walker
did have desire
had mentioned a vampire
conditions are dire
patience wearing thin
level of an Olympian
werewolf was in din
was so much suspense
discovered that he is dense
never made much sense
not Georgia cracker
he has been a big slacker
Trump has been backer
his screws are all loose
has suffered from much abuse
Christmas tree a spruce
Herschel had a date with Elvira.