Best Chew The Fat Poems | Poetry

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The Elected

            The Elected

Sharks leave the water to campaign on land
Drink Champagne at political parties
Draw blood; circle around, troll for enemies 
Take contributions with a wink
Tease young girls, kiss babies, follow rules
To the point of razor sharp teeth
Follow schools of fish
Delicious to eat
Sharks don’t just swim.  They float 
Rainy days don’t help the votes
Bait dangles on hooks
Sharks steal it when no one looks
Change to gentlemen in a gesture
Genuflect when given gifts 
Run, (though they have no feet) at the smell of money
Chummed up by buddies in muddied waters        
Pray for a cause to chew the fat
Call Jaws if all else fails
Sharks fly when not swimming to victory
The media counts on them to lie
They lie in wait to strike
At the elected hour
When they rise to power
Sharks love the taste of cowards


Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015


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About the 1500's

Most people got married in June because
They took their yearly bath in May
Body odor was the reason
Of the flowers in a bouquet

A big tub of hot water was used
For a bath, so that's not complex 
The males's right was to go first
The women and children went next

Last of all was the babies turn
By then the water was real dark
"Don't throw the baby out with the wash"
Soon became a common remark

Dirt floors were all the poor could afford
The old saying "dirt poor" came from that
The wealthy's floors were slippery slate 
In wet winter you just might fall flat!

So they would spread straw on the floor
But they called it thresh way back then 
and a "Thresh Hold" was what they called
The piece of wood used to hold it in!

Stew in a big kettle over a fire
Provided their dinner for them to eat
Leftovers left to get cold at night
With vegetables but not much meat

They added to the pot every day
It could be several days I'm told
That was referred to in the old rhyme
"Peas porridge in the pot nine days old"

When they could "bring home the bacon"
They were always proud about that
They would cut a little off to share
Then sit around and "chew the fat"

Pewter plates would cause lead poison
If like, in tomatoes, the acid was high
So for the next four hundred years or so
They thought tomatoes would make you die!

Bread was split according to status. 
The burnt bottom to workers was thrust 
The family would get the middle part 
While the guests got the "upper crust" 

Sometimes they'd pass out a few days
Because with whiskey they'd use a lead cup
So they would be prepared for burial
But "hold a wake" to see if they woke up

England had to re-use their coffins
But there were scratch marks, on some inside
They thought about it and soon realized
They must have been burying people alive!

Then they were buried with a string on their wrist
A bell was attached outside as well
Someone sat on "the graveyard shift" so
a "dead ringer" could be "saved by the bell"

This is true history, you can look it up
For me history always gave me a fit
But now this history doesn't seem so boring 
Since I managed to make a poem out of it!


Copyright © PAT Adams | Year Posted 2017


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About

                 About

Now I’m retired, free of bosses
And fools and spinners of bull;
Now I’m retired and free:
“Working”… was being trapped in a
Spinning washing machine

Should I explain, or let you imagine?

Now I’m retired: targets have gone;
Together with days and “time”…
Time is now, today and “about”
And coffee

Now I’m retired I’m a “slouch” in good 
Health with cool, friendly, funny friends:
But the friends who still work have that
“after the funeral look” about them

Now I’m retired, I’m inspired, when twice
A month, money falls down from heaven…
A thousand here a thousand there; and no debts 
To pay, (except perhaps a shirt or two).

Now I’m retired I have time to eat and write
And Photograph, and chew the fat with you, 
My loving, pretty wife: ….. now I’m retired.


Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015


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What in the World

What in the World

God greeted me with poems by the galore
So I will write this one and many more
For your to read, praise, love and adore
And share with you others I have in store.

Now it is time to take my poetry test
To determine poem that you like best
Proving my point and not being a pest
Unless other subjects you have to suggest.

If you can't find subject it I will determine
Could a dose of my verbose be a vermin
We know that a tank was called a Sherman
So why all around have you been squirming?

Here is pen and subject I have arrived at
Be ye unruly Republican or dumb Democrat
I myself prefer President who can chew the fat
What in the world do you think about that?

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran


Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015


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Guests

The guests have come and gone, now back to the old routine.
We showed them all the tourists spots, partook of local cuisine,
Put many miles on the old sedan and spent a ton of dough!
Sure was nice to see them come - better yet to see them go!

My bedtime is off kilter - they want to stay up and chew the fat.
Their visit even upset the routine of my dear inscrutable cat!
Spouse jolts me awake, nudging 'neath the table with her toe!
Sure was nice to see them come - better yet to see them go!

Surprise! Surprise!  They showed up with their miserable cur!
Consternation reigned when he saw the cat, causing quite a stir!
On the priceless Persian carpet, the mutt let his water freely flow!
Sure was nice to see them come - better yet to see them go!

Come time to pay for luncheon, we do the well-known shuffle,
As to who will pick up the tab sans causing a frightful ruffle!
Invariably, we end up sharing the total amount we owe!
Sure was nice to see them come - better yet to see them go!

Tho' this verse was written with considerable tongue in cheek,
I love having guests - as long as they say within a week,
Tho' some of my habitual modus operandi I must forego.
Sure is nice to have them come - better  yet to see them go!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved



Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2013


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The Wonders of the Cell Phone

The wonders of the Cell Phone
By Franklin Price
6/12/2016

The wonders of the cell phone,
If you can call it that,
Are miraculous and myriad
Not just there to chew the fat.

Can make a call, or text a friend,
Take a picture of a moose,
Play games, pay bills and find your way.
Buy most anything you choose

The side effects are many
On society as a whole
No face to face required
Seems to be the high tech goal

If you're a little curious
And need to see the one you call
Just face time and you'll look at them;
Now doesn't that just solve it all? 

Better yet, when you decide
That it is time to go,
Just say goodbye and tap to end
And you can make it so.

Lame excuses not required
Amenities not on the floor
A simple cell phone function
And it's goodbye and out the door

There is one thing that I suggest 
Before I end this tout.
Take some time to visit personally
That's what life should be about.


Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2016


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Nadacowboy

I am not a cowboy, though I wear a cowboy hat
and the boots I wear have pointed toes and heels that ain’t near flat.
I want to be a cowboy, but I’m stopped by one condition
I just can’t get a handle on those cowboy definitions.

When you say Chaps, I think cologne, and that’s not all, there’s more
a Quarter Horse is what kids ride outside the K-Mart store
A Bull is the just first part of an expletive deleted
and Pony’s just a little keg of beer, too soon depleted.
I’m not sure what a Cayuse is, but, it’s my recollection
that the Spurs play basketball and Red Eye’s an infection.

No, I am not a cowboy, and I guess that’s clear to you
but, I read books by Cowboy Poets to find out what to do.
How I should walk, how I should talk, and even how to spit.
When to drink and when to eat and when to take a sit-
down with some pardners, play some cards and chew the fat 
about the Dallas Cowboys and topics such as that.

A fella told me “get a horse”, that’s the thing that I should do.
So, I got a little pinto, but the body rusted through.
I used to have Colt 45’s.I’d drink some every day
now, the Saddlebags it gave me just won’t go away.
Round up kills weeds, I know because I use it now and then.
When you say stirrups, all I think is O-B-G-Y-N.

Yeah, I want to be a cowboy, wearin’ jeans and denim shirts
and dance that Texas Two Step till my old doggies hurt.
I’ll eat my Texas Chili hot, washed down with Lone Star Beer.
I’ll vacation at a Dude Ranch and maybe milk myself a steer.
No, I am not a cowboy, but I think that I could be
once I get a handle on the terminology.

Jeff Hildebrandt © 1999


Copyright © Jeff Hildebrandt | Year Posted 2005


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Mama's Golden Pond Cried

Mama's Golden Pond Cried


Mama loved to chew 
off the Golden Pond
bone
chew the fat
of their autumn leaves, 
dressed in splendor,
a scenic lake and cabin,
her pseudo stage,
of her new found barbies,
smiling at her
smile they did
so minted the american dream,
their lives golden.
These.
These
pocketed keepsakes she kept
next to the chip
on her shoulder. 
Yet her music plays
ill forgotten lore and simile
of her family and children,
scruffy unkempt dogs
she never proud,
she drummed over and over,
her catch phrase.
We watched the movie
long ago,
in her element,
in her tempo,
bated breath,
tears falling
and detached.
Yet her music plays
so content 
and spawning such a fondness
in her heart,
of them rowing a boat,
aging, golden.
Yet her music plays
sadly
in her heart
of emptiness
at home
dying, 
lifeless grey eyes.
Yet, so steely 
her song
snow blind of her son
sitting next to her
in the darkening theater,
her wintry chill,
so indigenous,
taking life hostage.
Just my child
her teeth 
chattering
to piano keys
playing,
playing in her concerto
dancing on golden pond...
such a waste her lips mimed.
Her keys.
And mine sink low.
... Just my child
she sat akimbo,
in silhouette,
tears I imagine,
and her voice 
... and her voice
once icy then
now a scar, 
a ghost,
... scruffy come here.

connie pachecho

6/30/17


Copyright © connie pachecho | Year Posted 2017


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Let's just chat

Mayhaps today we could have a little chat Just natter on a bit, ‘bout this and ‘bout that Of nothing great nor of things grand But what is common to the common man Let’s not try to impress, but just simply address Minor matters that could not matter less A bit of gossip, a whit of chatter Inconsequential quips that are of no great matter Let us indulge in inane talk Let us sip the nectar of words that just bloom Words that soon fade away as if inscribed in chalk Not words of great import, of destiny or doom Let’s talk of the weather. Berate the season Complain about whether there’s any sound reason For the humidity, or the stupidity, of the allergies That keep me sneezing Let’s recline in our rockers while… We mull over this, and muse about that That’s the way we roll, that’s our style …And relax, while we just chew the fat…


Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic | Year Posted 2015


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Eiger counter

Eiger counter


"Don't throw the baby out with the bath water," please the water was clean after 
father and mother and the water was better than ever even after the brother but 
when eye took my bath the poor baby was lost they looked in the drain but poor 
baby was gone there forever. The moral is kept as a memorial there does not 
toss out the clean water.
A coward dies a thousand times but a hero dies but once and a man who lives 
much like a DOG is always spit upon but to be a dog still tied to the living is more 
to be desired than heroing  because the bible says a man who lives is better 
than the dead. 
We will get married in JUNE no we will marry in JULY or even MAY is better 
because the ewe is born the first time in the month of May showers and what’s in 
JULY well the CHARLAX was born and bred.
Bread was given out according to status. Workers were given the burnt bottom of 
the loaf, the family got the middle and guests got the top or the "upper crust."
The loaf of bread is still the status but now the homeless man gets his loaf 
without the burnt part on. Eye am now the uppermost crust.
Making the batter up planting the leaven worth leaving the center for mye family 
clan. 
Pease and thankzx ewe one and all for peas given do not thaw until the fall from 
vine refine the peas and make a handful last for days.
This is why the nursery rhymers’ fortold:
Peas porridge hot, peas’ porridge cold, pea’s porridge in the pot nine days old." 
Enter laughing.
It was a sign of wealth that a man could "bring home the bacon." They would sit 
around with guests, cut off a bit of pork and "chew the fat."  Then they would toss 
the ole pigskin.
Play leap pig again. Slop the children. Smoke the hambone and root in the cellar.
What a feller this poet seems at work. He has a eiger counter at his home.



Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2007


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Do You Like What you Are Seeing

Do You Like what You Are Seeing
By Franklin Price
7/19/2016

Do you like what you are seeing,
In the world in which we live?
Do you only talk about it
When there's something you could give?

Do you keep up with the slanted news?
Maybe truth with more than more than two
Or surf the net to find someone
Who thinks the same as you?

Is your mind closed as in Washington?
Does your brain think such as that?
Do you chase a goat named Judas
To a place to chew the fat?

If you think that all is wonderful
That the world just works that way
You're contributing to the problems
That are in the world today


Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2016


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Gap Yahhh - Bless 'em all

If you'll indulge me, this short poem, based on George Formby's WW2 forces song, was inspired by my son;'s experiences of backpacking in India over the past month. In that time he met ONE other traveler that wanted to just chew the fat, have a chai and watch the world go by with.  Every other traveler he tried to engage in a chat or some site seeing (and sight seeing!) was at best indifferent and at worst simply rude.

So for  (most) of the backpacking fraternity on the sub-continent...

Bless'em all. 
By The Didds.

bless 'em all! bless 'em all,
the boorish, and with minds so small,
gone to India, to travel and learn,
sat in their hostels avoiding sunburn,
never speaking to others at all,
as back to their smartphones they crawl,
There's no conversation, in the Indian nation,
By gap-yearers less than enthralled!


Copyright © The Didds | Year Posted 2016


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Chewing the Fat


I don't wanna hear it,
you grinning Cheshire cat
Go wipe your dirty feet somewhere else
Spreading your gossip fact
with a web of lies and innuendo
Your eight eyes
love peeping into other people lives
through a cracked window
Weaving your idle chatter with frivolous conversation
Meaningless talk ... deceitful here say doth stalk
Go chew the fat with someone else;
don't try to bend my ear, I don't wanna hear
I'm gonna steer clear
from your obscenely obese comments
But I have a message to deliver to you,
so come near
Rumor has it,
that your loose lips was the culprit ...
caused your neighbor to suffer a massive heart attack
And you kissed her casket dressed in widow black
Keep chewing the fat,
and pretty soon it's gonna be you
lying in the morgue on your back
Now go run and tell that


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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Guests

The guests have come and gone, now back to the old routine.
We showed them all the tourist spots, partook of local cuisine;
Put many miles on the old sedan and spent a ton of dough!
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!

My bedtime is off kilter, they want to stay up and chew the fat.
Their visit even upset the routine of my inscrutable cat!
My spouse jolts me awake nudging me 'neath the table with her toe!
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!

Surprise! Surprise! They showed up with their yapping cur.
Consternation reigned when he saw the cat, causing quite a stir!
On the priceless Persian carpet, he let his water freely flow!
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!

Come time to pay for luncheon, we each try to out-shuffle,
Who will pick up the tab without causing a frightful scuffle!
Invariably, we end up sharing the total amount we owe.
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!

Tho' this was written entirely with my acerbic tongue in cheek,
I love having guests (as long as they stay within a week!).
Tho' some of my habitual modus operandi I must forego,
Sure is nice to have them come, better yet to see them go!


Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2010


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Every now and then

Every now and then, everyone could use a friend.
~
To sit and chat and chew the fat.
~
Listening to tunes or chatting about the weather, While we sit and talk together.
~
To catch up on the news, or make up new juice.
~
Every now and then Everyone could use a friend.
~
To tell your darkest secrets to about whats happening with you.
~
We may drift apart, although deep down in our hearts.
~
we know where are friend is waiting for us in our favorite place.
~
the less we talk, the less we laugh, just gives us a reason to catch up on the past.
~
Every now and then everyone can use a friend!


Copyright © cory long | Year Posted 2011


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Old Friends

Hang up your hat,
Stay and chat,
Won't you stay awhile,
And chew the fat?

The time flies,
It said good bye,
Remember that day,
When you couldn't stay,
And now it's to late to say,
Come out and play!





Copyright © Eitak Nella | Year Posted 2016


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The New Slave

in humble beginnings there were no paychecks...
we bartered-- we traded-- for this and that...

we hunted-- we fished-- a place to love-- laugh--
eat--sleep--and chew the fat-- was our happy habitat...

no left over trash to be found-- no need for disguised
mountains that are camouflaged garbage mounds...

everything was recycled--no harmful chemicals seeping
into the ground...

life was beautiful! 'til some lazy-- greedy--burning brain-- 
who didn't want to work--barter--hunt-- fish--and build by the sweat of their brow--
thought; hmm got to find a way some how...

so humans were captured--taken against their will-- 
placed in iron shackles and put on display...

for hundreds of years this is the way it would be...
before those in iron shackles would be set free...

hmmm....really???

we're enticed with luxuries we can-not afford-- they give us credit though...
and we owe before we can get hands on our own dough... 

with grimacing mugs and shoulder shrugs we had over our hard earned cash--
barely making it from one week to the next with our dwindled checks...  

the new slave is not in iron shackles----it's called; "debt"...


*Today's slavery knows no color, or gender...





Copyright © Phyllis Phyl | Year Posted 2018