Best Burley Poems
You were my Grandfather but I called you Papaw instead.
It hurt very much when Mom told me that you were dead.
When you died, the flower shop sold out of flowers and had to start selling trees.
That proved that many people loved you and knowing that was sure to please.
Your death brought about pain that we couldn't ignore.
We were all devastated when you passed away in 1994.
It doesn't seem like you've been dead for twenty years.
Your death brought a lot of misery and plenty of tears.
You died less than three weeks before I turned twenty-three.
You were very special and all of your family and friends agree.
Even though you've been dead for many years, your spirit continues to live on.
You still live in our hearts and that proves that you're not gone.
(Dedicated to Burley Johnson who died on August 3, 1994.)
Categories:
burley, death, dedication, grandfather, grandson,
Form:
Rhyme
Mom hated Wednesdays but I don't remember why.
Sadly, it was on a Wednesday when she died.
My Granddad also died on a Wednesday and that was very sad.
My Grandmother bragged because she was going to receive $10,000 because of his death and that made me mad.
Me, Mom and Granddad were all Leos, we were born in August and July.
It hurt me when Granddad passed away and when my poor mom died.
It's been painful since Mom passed away.
It's a fact that she hated Wednesdays.
(Dedicated to Agnes and Burley Johnson who passed away on March 6, 2013 and August 3, 1994.)
Categories:
burley, death, dedication, grandfather, grandson,
Form:
Rhyme
Down in the white famed plains of Western Kentucky in the 19th century, Alpha Omega Latham was born. Days after his father was shot on the porch, was the beginning of being, and the pass of a torch. Now that his father was gone and bereaved, his ma took the duties, after pa’s life was thieved. A boy now in school confused of his route, the chants “go west young man” were dawning some doubt about the feudal trail that rendered much clout. Humble his beginnings, picking cotton for a living, snowball earned his name, being the only white kid in the game. Just 8 years old, a drive that once ran cold was burning from his hands that were yearning, he decided to up and hop west to Burley. Idaho he headed, decision imbedded, the lure of the west, assured a new life to invest. Alpha Omega began again, and ended a chapter, his life was in spin. Now was his chance, of success in the west, opportunities gleamed, held tight to his chest. A poker man, many cards he swapped, to scrounge and buy half of a sporting shop. With a mere chunk of change, a last ditch effort, his puzzle pieces to arrange. Snowballs sports shop, came to fruition in time, from the train ride alone, with barely a dime, now land and wealth, the ladder he climbed. Owned hotels and houses, made his mark on the land, now standing on top, he created a brand. A beautiful family, the American dream, he lived it and proved it, while swimming upstream. Make your own luck, the idea that he stressed, sink or swim, was life in the west. As the depression was sweeping the country abroad, Alpha had summoned the lightning rod; providing help to his kin in Burley, he helped the community, even when surly. Was known to help any poor old soul, altruism was his ultimate goal. From a bitter ending, blossomed a graceful beginning, just because he lost one fight, didn’t prevent his winning. Twas the life of Alpha Omega, his ending was much brighter, a hero in the eyes of many, a true american fighter. Beginning now is a different page, to snowball his vision in a different age, on west my friend; be brave, not afraid, flourish each and every stage. For one bad ending, cannot cage the transcending, of the flower contending to fend off the sour, bursting out in Spring.
(iambic pentameter, verse)
Categories:
burley, character, community, desire, dream,
Form:
Verse
I don’t have a favourite,
I love each and every one
Whether happy or sad
Cheerful or glum
I love Grim Kim
And Moanie Toni
Henpecky Becky
And Naggy Maggie
I love Bella Stella
And Indie Lindy
Funny Honey
And Windy Cindy
I love Tarty Marti
And Burley Shirley
The Felon Helen
And that twirly girlie
I love Flabby Gabby
And Escapee Lee
Chardonnay Kay
And Meat free Fi
I love Prudy Judy
And Racy Macy
Pristine Christine
And Straight Lacy Tracy
Categories:
burley, funny, girlfriend-boyfriendlove,
Form:
One day I was walkin' through the woods
Amongst the cool, crisp mountain air
When cold and burley there he stood
Lickin' his chops this hungry bear
I tried so hard to find a tree
And scamper fast, I tried to run
Before his claws took hold of me
The dang thing nipped me in the bum!
And quick I thought to grab a stick
And slap him hard across the nose
I took for brush, the trees were thick
And that is how the story goes
The moral of this tiny tale
Is never walk alone out there
And if I ever hear you wail
Don't count on me if it's a bear!
Categories:
burley, animal, humorous, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
GHOST STORY
Hey! Over there ! I got a glimpse of him !
Yes, I see him now over there almost hidden behind those books
Naw, doesn’t look like the fella I used to know so well
Well, time changes everything you know
Ok but I always thought eternity would be a kinda blessing in disguise
You know, allowing time for reflection away from the hurley-burley
But no, I spend lotsa time still trying to figure him out
Oh oh he’s moving again, it’s hard to keep track of him!
He was seen in Seattle last month and now I hear
They often see him in Venice and even Thailand - fast mover
And appearing more and more often in unusual spots
Well like father like son you know
Yeah, we used to be close all right - go everywhere, share things
When we were both in the land of the living
Long time separated, huh?
Yeah, thirty years next fall. . .and I still miss him,
Think ‘bout him every day, kinda spooky
Cos I figured he would fade from my memory as time passed
How often do you come down to check on him?
The maximum allowable - three times a year - now that
They’ve promoted me to Angel Class One
So I’ll probably find you down next spring wherever your son is appearing?
Yeah, in March, when he’s doing a book-signing in Des Moines
Ok . . . I’ll seeya then, old timer
Yeah, seeya, gotta fly, hahaha.
Categories:
burley, fantasy, son, time, son,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
OLD CURLY IS BURLEY
I’m telling you dude, the man is as wily as they come
He’ll leave you wishing you were dead or numb
His name is Curley and I don’t know why
I just know he’ll sell you dope and watch you die
I learned years ago about Curley’s way
As my pace slows down and my hair grows gray
Whom so ever raised old Curley should be in jail
And this ain’t no made up fairy tale
He’s a living and breathing son of a b***h
And his momma must have been a witch
Because old Curley casts specious spells
And he does so with each dime bag he sells
Okay, I dare you dude, turn your back on the mother
And you’ll swear to Christ he’s Satan’s brother
When you cop from him there’s always a doubt
And for sure one of his hot shots will take you out
So go ahead and deal with that which the devil designs
But when he boasts about his dope you’d better read between the lines
Selling dope is okay but beating junkies is no way to behave
And if you don’t heed my words I vow to visit you at your grave
© 2011.….Poefree
Categories:
burley, urbanold, old,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Greasy little Charlie Bryce,
Was absolutely riddled with lice,
The lice would skip and jump and play,
On Charlie's greasy hair all day,
But then one day a louse hopped free,
And landed on a girl called Bree,
Who screamed aloud for all to hear,
"There's something wriggling in my ear",
Miss Morris calmed the classroom down,
Then turned to Charlie with a frown...
"I'm afraid this cannot wait 'til later,
I'm bringing in the fumigater!"
Moments later six big brutes,
Dressed head to toe in yellow suits,
Broke down the wooden classroom door,
And flung poor Charlie to the floor,
The brutes released one hundred mice,
To feast upon the wretched lice,
Once this was done a burley bloke,
Pumped Charlie's hair with bright green smoke,
No children did the green smoke harm,
But it did set off the fire alarm,
From then on in the whole high school,
Thought Charlie Bryce was super cool!
The lice had gone, his hair was clean,
And it stayed the most outrageous green!
Categories:
burley, children, children, fun, funny,
Form:
Couplet
OLD CURLY IS BURLEY
I’m telling you dude, the man is as wily as they come
He’ll leave you wishing you were dead or numb
His name is Curley and I don’t know why
I just know he’ll sell you dope and watch you die
I learned years ago about Curley’s way
As my pace slows down and my hair grows gray
Whom so ever raised old Curley should be in jail
And this ain’t no made up fairy tale
He’s a living and breathing son of a b***h
And his momma must have been a witch
Because old Curley casts specious spells
And he does so with each dime bag he sells
Okay, I dare you dude, turn your back on the mother
And you’ll swear to Christ he’s Satan’s brother
When you cop from him there’s always a doubt
And for sure one of his hot shots will take you out
So go ahead and deal with that which the devil designs
But when he boasts about his dope you’d better read between the lines
Selling dope is okay but killing junkies is no way to behave
And if you don’t heed my words I vow to visit you at your grave
© 2011.….Poefree
Categories:
burley, deathold, old,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Rednecks
Long time ago when a man called Goldwater was
running for president, I was walking along a road
just outside Mobile, Alabama. What I was doing
there is long forgotten but I recall having a day off
from my ship, and going from bar to bar.
I did notice that the sidewalk was weedy clearly
people did no walking. A pickup truck stopped,
three burley men wanted to give me a lift, dared
not refuse they had gun racks and armed for civil
war that steadfastly refused to appear.
They asked me about Goldwater whom I had read
about in “Newsweek” but I stated ignorance.
They drove me back to Mobile and I assured them
I loved America; gave me a six-pack, warned me
not to speak to black people and commies.
I was told they were rednecks; which I know see
as sort of countryside workers with broken cars
in the front yard. They did look like the men who
bullied and broke shop windows, own by Jewish
shopkeepers, before the last world war two.
Categories:
burley, adventure, history, me, me,
Form:
Blank verse
Finally my blood began to coagulate, the bleeding had stopped.
Not sure how far along the tunnel I had come. All the way I hopped.
Now to make my way out of this loathsome place.
Cobwebs drooped from the ceiling like filigree lace.
I stepped carefully over sodden earth, choking on the thick rancid air.
The pain from my wounded leg was throbbing and becoming hard to bear.
Dimly lit this tunnel seemed endless. Glimmers of hope mixed with fright.
Will I emerge from this horrid place, is this tunnel to be my tomb, my plight?
Eerie noises pierced the silence, and seemed to signal doom.
Wished I was home again in my own peaceful, pretty room.
Peering into the darkness there seemed to be eyes ahead staring at me.
“hello, is someone there?” No answer so I called again most warily.
The ‘eyes’ were not seen again. I guess it was my imagination.
Am I first to discover this fearsome tunnel since the beginning of creation?
My mind is wandering losing control, getting harder to keep on going.
A sharp turn to the right, the air feels fresher, a soft breeze is blowing.
It has to be coming from outside in the open, this must be the way out.
I tripped and nearly fell, and let out a small yelp, Suddenly I hear a shout.
“We are coming “ says the voice, “Are you OK?” I have been found.
My trembling voice tries to answer, but try as I will I can’t make a sound.
Scooped up by two burley men they carry me out to the bright sunshine.
My leg is cleaned and dressed, as they lay me back to rest, feeling fine.
Categories:
burley, scary,
Form:
Rhyme
I know this guy,his
name is Dale.
He's big and burley,
and not too frail.
He stands so tall,about
six foot eight.
He must weigh,about
three twenty eight.
He works on cars,and
he's pretty good.
Just take him your car,
and he'll lift the hood.
If he can't fix it,he'll
know who could.
He's the nicest guy.
you'll ever find.
His name is Dale,
and he's one of a kind.
Categories:
burley, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme
Soothe the brain with passages,
Let the warm air ease your thoughts.
For home is a long way coming,
But development is close.
Cross your eyes in hope of happiness,
Be content the pen still works,
Happy you're still moving on.
Fold your arms and achieve strength.
Let the people meditate for you.
Her heart calls like a beacon,
It won't stop until the end of the road is near.
Voices coo the rattling bus,
As loud cries become distant murmurs,
And the love my heart had so deeply desired,
Burns into the smoke of the tar-laid roads.
Trees wisp into emerald candy floss,
Towns pass like horses upon carousel.
Dreams blossom into moss covered landscapes,
While my mind washes in and out of consciousness.
As we flow through Mississippi,
Water-like thoughts drip from my brow,
New environments inspire me.
Enchanted by new worlds, laced with poetic sounds:
Chugging trains, Burley voices,
Friendships blossoming over shared cigarettes.
No money for museum entry fees or ancient artifacts,
Taking in the community collections of lay-by graffiti.
Softly mourning each moment.
Louisiana by night, with dimming
Lights, calms the soul.
As whispers of thought,
Pass by and by my window.
Texas by morning, with hums
Of yawning, awakens the mind.
As whispers of thought,
Pass by and by my window.
Travelers pass, 'till someday
At last, I find my way home.
Categories:
burley, heart, heart,
Form:
Here I write,
but I don't know why
it's either that
or stare at the sky,
and as I ponder
what to scribe next,
inspiration fills my text.
The infamous thoughts
swirl all about,
smearing together
until they come out,
creating clear green skies
filled with mingling flies
and rolling red grassy knolls
with fluffy plants sprouting bowls.
As scaly monkeys
swim through the air
I catch a whiff
of a couch tree over there,
supporting burley potatoes
holding a remote and a flair,
throwing their garbage overhead
without a care.
And then without another thought
it fades onto an orange fog,
so thick that all of the images
disappear into the smog.
Categories:
burley, fantasy, funny, imagination, on
Form:
Rhyme
problem will tackle
abusers we should schackle
while they will cackle
remove may be good
all of those who are a hood
which we surely should
we did neglect
try right things that are correct
that we did detect
inevitable
which could be incretible
was ineatable
people will invest
we had found hard to digest
up again we messed
issue must table
when willing being able
loser did label
to avoid the glut
she should keep her big mouth shut
is a sexy ****
there were more and more
causing me to be poor
then i was before
when we went to store
did lack having open door
not there anymore
(Open Door Policy)
Barely Burley With Hair Curly
was barely burly
even in morning early
hair surely curly
we walked a fine line
to disavow or decline
barrel or could be stein
person in a chair
at her we started to stare
bugs were everywhere
money might make me
as miserable as can be
give away for free
Jim Horn
Categories:
burley, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Haiku