Best Buck Stops Here Poems | Poetry
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The Buck Stops Here
by Fraser, Carl
The Buck Stops Here
by Belt, Larry
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The Best Buck Stops Here Poems
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Buck Stops Here Poem
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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.
Copyright © Carl Fraser | Year Posted 2012
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Buck Stops Here Poem
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I searched for a Penny
So I could hear her thoughts
Sadly there weren't any
My heart was left in knots
Perhaps a wooden Nickle
Or maybe a thin dime
Would help me in a pickle
So this girl could be mine
I was determined to pass Buck
For he seemed to have her ear
He possessed that Irish luck
So I cried in my green beer
This girl I wanted to hold
Was enamored with his gold
"Penny for your thoughts"
"Don't accept any wooden Nickles."
"All he had was one thin dime"
"The Buck stops here"
"Luck of the Irish"
"The one who has the Gold gets the girl!"
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
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Buck Stops Here Poem
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President's Day is approaching so I thought I would further your education,
By revealing useless trivia about some of the dudes who've served our nation.
President Washington actually had to borrow money to get to his inauguration.
He wore size 13 shoes and seldom took a bath much to Martha's indignation!
Abe Lincoln agreed his wasn't the prettiest face when all was said and done!
Once called 'two-faced' he said, "If I had two faces, do you think I'd wear this one?"
James Buchanan was nearsighted in one eye and farsighted in the other,
Causing him to lean his head to the left and close one eye, which was a bother!
For his breakfast, Ulysses Grant loved cucumbers soaked in vinegar to eat!
He probably saved his hide since he declined to join Abe in his theater suite!
Woodrow Wilson was plagued with indigestion and was blind in one eye.
He had a pet sheep named Old Ike that chewed tobacco and that ain't no lie!
Cal Coolidge used a paucity of words so that many folks thought him dead!
He liked his head rubbed with Vaseline while eating his breakfast in bed!
Harry Truman kept a sign on this desk that read, "The Buck Stops Here!"
Remembered will be his scorching letter to an editor defending Margaret's career!
'Tis well-known that Ronnie Reagan dearly loved Nancy and jelly beans,
And was happiest at his ranch riding a horse and wearing old jeans!
And finally, from Barack Obama we learned that there are fifty-seven states,
And that he makes skillful use of a teleprompter to ensure there are no misstates!
Th-th-thats all folks - more than you ever wanted to know about these chaps!
(There's much more I could reveal but it best be kept under close wraps!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012
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Buck Stops Here Poem
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It's always there.
And it would speak with eloquence
if I would simply stand aside--
out of the way of anything
besides my clamorous self...
that much beloved (and hated) fellow
who cannot seem to recognize
priorities.
It seems to have some consciousness,
and works its way into my dreams
sometimes, when I am indolent.
And then it briefly has a voice,
stimulates my curiosity,
and may inspire a poem
or a thought to nag at me,
particularly when another soul
is at my side to listen.
Ah, but then it tends to dwindle,
fade and disappear.
No, the buck stops here
and it is mine alone.
Mine to give the care it needs,
and mine to carry
into war, and peace, and consequence.
Mine to rumble with,
and mine even to celebrate--
then,
and now,
and to my own demise--
perhaps beyond for all I know.
I hear it, feel it,
love it helplessly.
Now pardon me, for I must spend
a little time to know it
better still.
~
Copyright © Robert Ludden | Year Posted 2014
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Buck Stops Here Poem
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"News Flash"
Bambi is under arrest
The Associated Press stated this morning
That he had failed the polygraph test
He's been charged with murder one
With the death of his own mother
He was a suspect in the case for years
But always blamed it on his brother
But DNA doesn't lie
And his hoofprints were on the gun
The authorities have been looking for him
That's when he decided to run
They say that he's been hiding out
Somewhere in his daddy's field
Trying to look inconspicuous
Ever since his mama was killed
Anger was the buck's only motive
According to what the authorities say
Thumper wanted to play a game
But she wouldn't let him go out and play
As soon as we get more updates
We'll pass it straight on to you
So stay tuned to your poetry websites
Until I can tell you something new
Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2010
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Buck Stops Here Poem
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Egalitarians of a smaller world
with forks for fingers
chew loudly on the gravy train
of poor boys paper thin paychecks
spit me out cause I got no cash
better to be on the street with
a shoeless shuffle
than trying to capture a seat
at the silver spoon table....
Pasty-faced bankers counting out loud
the graves of American dreams they spoiled
the song of their voices in unison
is a terrible dirge and a
strange romancer that keeps
one and all clinging to that sweetest of dreams
hope....
Dudley Do Right is a little man
in his little office
acting like the bureaucrat he was born to be
just pennies on the pound for his cold soul
a deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang
his heart a cardboard cutout of his childhood idol
deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang
all these flavorless fools
pay to play on the great machine
where the crowds call for ever more
salacious parody of what should be
where the almighty buck stops here
twice a day
all day Sunday
preacher man
baker, solider, liar, thief
deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang
deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang
© 2018 mark john junor all of my poems are my
exclusive property and all rights are reserved
Copyright © mark junor | Year Posted 2018