Best Buck Poems
If it were up to me,
I would like to change the world's views;
On who it can afford to keep,
and who it can afford to lose.
If it were up to me,
People would pay dearly for their crimes;
Including many lawmakers,
who never obey their own signs.
If it were up to me,
not one child would ever die;
And I would raise them with dignity,
and teach them never to lie.
If it were up to me,
I'd make unhappy people smile all the time,
It just seems so much better,
than listening to them whine.
If it were up to me,
all marriages would forever last,
And people would kiss and make up,
instead of rehashing the past.
All these things I desire,
have to start somewhere you see,
So I'll step forward and go first,
and start things with me.
Despair not,
The wound is superficial
The arrow only grazing
Your death mask delayed
The pain is real
But the end,
far from us
A young buck, who rescuers, called "Meatball",
was found shaken, lost, and perplexed!
They chose to keep him warm and safe,
till they decided, what to do next!
After some time, "Meatball" was sad!
He didn't like being secluded!
He apparently needed companionship,
at least, that's what the rescuers concluded.
Thus began a diligent search,
which lasted for two weeks or so!
It resulted in them being able,
to capture, a beautiful Doe!
The Doe was then taken, where she needed to go!
They all knew that "Meatball" was ready!
The group came up, with an appropriate name.
They decided to call her, "Spaghetti"!
Spaghetti and Meatballs, is pasta and meat,
as most, anyone, out there, would know!
But, how many knew, the same would be true,
when it came to a Buck and a Doe?
Note: This is based loosely
on a true story!
Here comes Buck Toothed Chuck
from Hickville Street,
sorriest feller you
ever did meet.
Walkin' his flea bitten dog
down the street, scratchin’ his head
and flip flopping his feet.
If he asks for money
best say, "No way"!
'cuz it'll slip through his fingers
in less than a day.
He'll be spittin' tobackee
the whole day through,
'cuz he ain't got nothin'
better to do.
There goes Buck Toothed Chuck
from Hickville Street,
hasn’t had a bath in
over a week,
Best steer clear cuz' the
smell ain't sweet,
sorriest feller you
ever did meet.
Buck was a tough man
very fast with his gun
always just one step
ahead of the law
He rode from town to town
never staying all that long
because as soon as word got out
the young gunslingers would come
Now Buck was not a man
to go looking for trouble
but it seemed that some how
it was his middle name
Really all he wanted to do
was marry his sweetheart
and raise a fine family
to live peacefully with them
He had a small hideaway
high up in the Rockies
a simple log cabin
where he could hole up
Not the place to take a bride
far too isolated and bare
talking to Betty he asked her
to purchase some land
Make it down in lush valley
he told her, we can raise cattle
a few horses to start a herd
maybe some hens and geese for eggs
Betty found a prime piece of land
with a cool bubbling spring
trees to shelter and give shade
sweet green grass to feed them all
Buck and Betty got married at last
soon built a fine house and barn
with a corral and stables
yet all too soon their bliss shattered
Young gunslingers heard where he was
dropping by to chance their luck
ending up in wooden coffins
because Buck was real fast
Until one day the townspeople
rode out to see Buck
they wanted him to be their sheriff
to protect them from the bandits
Buck agreed to wear the badge
and rid the town of the bad guys
each day he patrolled the territory
many baddies he lay to rest
Yet he felt he had no real peace
that his life was on borrowed time
he wanted to live his life quietly
tending to family and his ranch
This seemed a wistful thought
as still yet more gunslingers came
one day he knew he'd meet a faster gun
and end his life face down in dirt
One day while build a nursery he got
Betty to chop while he held the logs
well Betty missed and got his fingers
cutting them clean off only stumps left
It was his gun hand that was hurt
soon the word went around
the young guns stopped coming
no sport for them now
Buck finally got his dream
and lived to a ripe old age
siring five fine children
and many grandchildren
Against all the odds
he died quietly in bed
his last words to Betty were
"That was the best miss you ever made"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The light is fading, evening breaks
Between the oaken woods and lake,
It's time to finish with the row
And homeward bound, the trail to take.
With rake in hand I turn to go
To find my pick axe and the hoe,
When from the trail there ran a buck
And right behind him came two doe.
At first I thought, what rotten luck!
I left my rifle in the truck,
Then, as he stopped to look my way
He gave his tail a flip and tuck.
And then he spun and bounced away
The doe behind him sleek and grey,
Crashing through the brush and vine
Into the woods and welcomed shade.
He must have sported twenty tine
I thought as Shadow starts to whine,
Asking, should he give him chase?
I pat his head in soft decline.
The sun is gone upon my face
To lose the buck is no disgrace,
Although today I've been undone
There'll be another time and place.
Today the buck has rightly won
The hunters gone, the season done,
Perhaps we'll meet again next year
Before the season's had it's run.
The buck was ancient, and I fear
He may not see another year,
But then, another year is seldom clear
For man, or dog, or antlered deer.
Timothy I. Brumley
Wanting what I can’t have,
That seems to be my M.O.,
Why I keep doing it I’ll never know,
You’d think I’d understand that I can’t have it;
(Yeah yeah yeah,)
(Go ahead,)
(Make a blonde joke,)
(I’m not even blonde dumb ass;)
But no,
I still go on wanting it more and more,
I want what someone else has,
(Yes, I know,)
(****,)
(Shut up;)
I want what’s too far away,
I want what doesn’t want me,
I seem to want the impossible,
And then,
Outta the blue,
Something wants me,
And of course I get excited,
But then there’s luck I got,
Something always comes up,
And I always end up a day late and a buck short,
Story of my life,
It’s not just that it happens with something important,
No,
Of course not,
It’s with everything,
I can’t seem to get a break,
No matter how much time I have,
Or how many 20’s I got in my wallet,
It always ends up short;
(Yeah,)
(Go ahead,)
(Laugh it up,)
(I said short,)
(I know,)
(Smartass,)
(You aren’t helping my situation,)
(So just shut up,)
(I don’t care,)
(I’ve got bigger issues to deal with;)
Because I don’t seem to have enough of somethin’,
And lemme tell ya,
It ain’t fun not havin’ it;
(Not that you care,)
(You’re busy makin’ wise cracks,)
(Doesn’t really bother me though,)
(So get over yourself, a’ight?)
(Why am I even bothering?)
(I’m not writing this for you;)
I’m not writing this for anybody,
I’m just writing it,
Just putting my pen to paper,
And letting the ink write whatever comes to mind;
(That explains the ranting, eh?)
(Yeah,)
(Bite me,)
(I’m having enough problems without you,)
(So could ya just lay off for maybe five minutes?)
(Somehow I doubt that,)
(But one can always hope;)
It’s not my fault I come up short;
(And don’t even say it;)
I am who I am,
With or without whatever’s missing,
No,
Strike that,
Because if I had what was missing,
I wouldn’t be me now would I?
The thing I need,
Wants me without whatever’s missing,
But good luck finding that,
And we all know how my luck goes;
(That’s it exactly;)
A day late and a buck short,
Ahh the universe loves me;
(Don’tchya think?)
(What?)
(You don’t agree?)
(Can’t imagine why,)
(Well, I guess I’ll have to put up with you,)
(Lucky lucky me,)
(Nothin’ I can do about you;)
At least not now,
Not until I got an extra penny,
At least,
And I’m half an hour early.
Oh, for the taste of a sweet, juicy berry,
some sweet rose petals would make me happy;
I'm so tired of woody browse and acorns,
my throat gets dry and my teeth are worn.
For an aging buck needs good sustenance;
I hate the browse cracking, such dissonance!
I long for tree buds, tender grass and shoots;
I'd kiss a squirrel for some acorns or fruits.
I love buckeye, chestnuts, pecans and raspberry;
some strawberries, blueberries and blackberries.
To run through the fields seeking a spouse
and revel in the colors of those lovely grouse.
An apple or two, perhaps some paw-paws,
fresh almonds are tasty to chomp in my jaws.
Sweet herbs like lemon grass, sage and chicory,
dandelions, alfalfa, plantain and hickory.
I yearn for those tasty pleasures of Spring,
my mate and I will enjoy everything!
2-14-2023
Winter is not Forever Poetry Contest
BJ Legros Kelley
Beautiful Buck
Eyes soft brown
With lashes black
Hanging down
Long whiskers
Twitch on his chin
Tapered muzzle nose
Snorts at the wind
Ears twitching below
An eight point rack
His switching tail
Jerks fro and back
A taste of Nature's elegance
I stare at him and he at me
Then he spins one hundred
And eighty degrees to flee
White tail flag waving
To his strides rhythm
Back into the woods
Last I'll see of him
Beautiful Buck
Thanks for the thrill
I came to watch
Not to kill
It was a cloudy day in march...
The sky was blue, gray,
Hot sun outside, within.
How statue like he stood,
In the early march wind.
He stood, he stood,
How statue like he stood.
Bare naked on the sands,
moist tears ducts,
sundryed, bound feet.
How statue like he stood.
A voyage done,
rusted anchors weeped,
strange faces big guns.
How statue like he stood.
Fading sounds, mangled,
knotted thoughts, screams within.
How statue like he stood.
Wintered in the moment
of the early march wind.
He stood, he stood.
How statue like he stood.
By
Jay JOHNSON
Postage rates were rising;
we didn't mind one bit.
We used a bit of buck sense
and slid right in the groove.
We bought lots of forever
stamps and didn't take the hit
and Uncle Sam went wanting
when push came to shove.
The banks of my River encircled the Buck
as it came in the Night
seeking solace, giving me rest too
it was smooth and sure
as it drank from my River
when flowing into the oasis of my Heart
stars lighting the Way of Togetherness
River and Buck knew it was tied with an
Invisible Bond
Two things,
Make you sing,
White and bright,
Long and strong
A wreath,
For your teeth,
No cavities,
No cavities,
You have,
Buck Teeth!
Bamboo chimes hint of old China,
Urge of vast lands by eastern shores;
Chase rays and tints of diaspora,
Keep mission trends of Christian mores.
See the real world and write your tales,
Announce a way to read the heart;
In words that swirl let novels sail.
Zest Chinese play in story parts,
Hurl ample sights in fond describe;
Enthuse each page the yellow race,
Note customs tight in appetites;
Zeal offers age a human face,
Heed change that greet Chinese people,
Urge feeds sour-sweet in strange foibles.
Leon Enriquez
05 May 2015
Singapore
I nurtured plans to explore foreign lands,
But haven’t found the time to get there yet.
Under COVID unprecedented threat,
I wish I’d gone, not languorously planned.
“You snooze, you lose”, they say, so I have missed
The wonders of the world I read about.
For now, to get together with my “crowd” -
First wish on my extended bucket list.
November 24, 2020