Best Chip Off The Old Block Poems | Poetry

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Chip off the old block by Rigoler, Maurice

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The Best Chip Off The Old Block Poems

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Nepotism's Only Kin Deep

Chip off the old block;
        It runs in the family.
This all needs to stop
        In our meritocracy.

Titles through ages;
        A generation’s game.
Lordships by bloodline,
        Some things need to change.

Birth won’t denote skill;
        It keeps people out.
Mobility’s lost
        When money they flout.

James Caan can shove it,
        And let workers in.
Nobles move over,
        Let our time begin. 

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

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Quarter Among Dimes

She likes to snowboard
I'm a beast on skis
She is about the cold
Summer works best for me

Her cranberry spiked absolute
My scotch is on the rocks
She's thick, artistic, astute
I'm a chip off the old block

She likes women
Hey look, so do I
she's smart, ambitious, driven
I've got this poetic mind

She's a mountain girl
I'm partial to the beach
I use my right of free speech
she likes to observe

Overbearing, my thoughts exposed
Her freaky nature held at bay
I'm nasty and mean to impose
She came over in lingerie!

I was born and graduated upstate
She was raised in N.Y. City
I spark a blunt, no shame!
She's a little hippie

I have a unique, witty swagger
Shorties a quarter among dimes
In this moment none of that matters
All that ass is mine!!

Jared Pickett

Copyright © Jared Pickett | Year Posted 2014

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Cliche and Catch Phrase Party

Once in a blue moon I have been told
The cliché’s clan gets together with the Catch Phrase posy

If I have told you once I have told you a thousand times this story or are you the last one to know?

Well, it all started for no rhyme or reason but you could see the writing on the wall.

Rat Race and horsing around would be in charge of the children’s activities for the day.
 While crazy as a loon and Wacky Tobacky would take care of the entertainment.
Ice Queen would be the bartender for the night and Wall Flower would play the music.
Requests were already pouring in from the peanut gallery. 
Young whipper Snapper like to hear a country song called one step forward and two steps back
And Jonny come lately wanted to hear a rock song called Chip off the old block.
Class clown always wanting to be the center of attention got drunk and started dancing
On the picnic tables. 
 Simon Says and Mother May I where there to tell everyone what to do and where to sit.
 This would be a catered event so One sandwich short of a picnic was hired to feed this Motley crew.
On the menu was Fish out of Water served with two peas in a pod and for dessert The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree Al- a- mode.
Everybody was having a great time until the trouble makers showed up.
One for the road and Three sheets to the wind where known for starting drunken brawls.
The worst thing was they brought their 3 grown sons Hammered, sloshed and pickled.
If I only knew then what I know now left early. She had a feeling there would be trouble.
Penny for your thoughts would be collecting the raffle ticket money and No time like the present would be handing out the prizes.
Liar Liar Pants on fire and Cry me a river were sore losers and always made a scene if they lost.
It will be a cold day in hell didn’t want to go so he sent his wife Heaven to Betsy.
Too much of a good thing got sick and ended up taking the bus# Catch22 home.
Well, nothing lasts forever was the last song of the night and Turn out the lights the party’s over security guard company showed everyone the door.
The end.

Copyright © Erin Soares-Anselmi | Year Posted 2014

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Bytes Out Of The Old Apple

My youngest son is forty-six years old A chip off the old block as they say I take full responsibility for this young fellow Scott is his name, silliness is his game Proud as punch of that boy 'Why grow up' has always been my motto He has certainly accepted it as his as well Like two peas in a pod we are Poor dear wife Cathie She is tested daily by us two extreme characters She deserved some kind of an award, a medal For endurance under extreme comedic conditions The word 'serious' does not exist in our vocabulary Life is one big hoot And why not... the alternative sucks Did I say I'm proud as punch of this fellow A successful computer guru Heading up the Creative Services Department For a large company servicing the pharmaceutical industry Did I say I'm proud as punch of this fellow I'm repeating myself aren't I He's the apple of my eye Ironically, we are both Apple Computer geeks! We're both bytes out of the old Apple © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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La Mancha More Than a Dreamer

Dedicated to 'Toby' Jobs..."A creative genius of his own clothe,
BUT, a Chip-off-the-old-Block!"

ROADS...and Forks...the Journey's Deep and Lonely...the Stains
Are Bloody!
AND SHE CRIES...alone and heart cries...the Stains
Are Bloody!
OUR BEST FRIEND...alone and lonely...our hearts cry...the Stains
Are Bloody!

Pinned to our Hearts...Badges of Lost Glory
Lost Again!

A Frog or a Prince...PRINCESS for a Frog...The Legend Stands
A Man from La Mancha...he was MORE, MORE THAN A DREAMER

A Lover, a Giver, a Gift of His Time...A LEGEND OF HIS OWN TIME
A Wonder in the Sky...HE LIVES...AMONGST THE STARS

Do Cannons Ring Across the the SHIPS IN OCEANS
Do the Blackest Holes...Ring the Stars Bleed and

A Man from La Mancha...he was MORE, MORE THAN A DREAMER

He played a Gambit...with a SMILE OF HIS OWN...and He
He was a Lover of Time...and He Loved...Me
And Us...A Legend of His Own...and the Footprints 
Across the Sands in Our Hearts!

Do Dreamers Live and/or Die...Do Dreamers EVER LEAVE
Are patterns in the skies...BLACK AND BLUE?

A Man from La Mancha...a Mystery to You...But Not to Me!
He Loved and Showers and Tears...
And the Jokes in the Night...A JOKER

His Scents His Cars...A PIPE...Scents of Earthen Woods
And His Dreams!
And Red Blood Stains...OUR HEARTS!
The Man from La Mancha...A Dreamer of His Time and
Of All-Time!

He Lived and He Loved...During HIS LENGTH OF TIME!
Do STARS She Does...and as We Do?
He Lived and He Loved...During HIS LENGTH OF TIME!

A Man from La BARRELS ROLL...and Does
Will His Ship...Roll Across the a Windless Silvery
In Dreams of the Cool of the Night...I DREAM...His Face
His Shoulders...His Scents!
Death Could Never...Separate Through The Length of Time!
A Marvel of His Time...Lover, Giver, Dreamer...AN ACE OF
A Pirate Stole Him...and BRANDY CRIES!

My Man from La Mancha...and I Cry All the Time!
He Loved and He Lived...and He Loved Me!
A Pirate Stole Him...and BRANDY CRIES!

A Genius of His Time...and of All-Time!
He was The Genius of Time!

Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2014

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Pieces of Me

Each person you meet in this life, 
takes a piece of you you can never get back, 
you struggle to find who you are, 
while investing in others, 
to form what could be a great life, 
and yet,
we hesitate,
we yearn for a belonging, 
we search for a completion from others, 
as we take a piece of them with us as well, 
each piece is a chip off the old block, 
we chip away at each other with no known reason, 
but to build a whole from shards of broken hearts, 
we pick and pick and pick, 
and to lose yourself piece by piece,
is just life's journey, 
towards whatever comes next. 
to put yourself back together...

Copyright © Mario Gutierrez Jr | Year Posted 2015

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Such a cliche

I'll drink to that, three sheets in the wind, the Booze cruise                        Drinking like a fish, kicking the bucket a fine kettle of fish,                       
beyond the pale. A fish out of water. When it rains, it pours, on a dark             and stormy night, raining cats and dogs. A force to be reckoned with,                                    the perfect storm, so weather the storm and get your feet wet.                          Every dog has its day, fighting like cats and dogs.                                    
Look what the cat drug in, the hair of the dog that bit you,                         
Just pulling your leg. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,        
ignorance is bliss. No pain, no gain, a chip off the old block,                     
banging your head, against a brick wall.                                                          
A loose cannon, armed to the teeth, the kiss of death.                                                                                                     Biting the bullet, caught in the crossfire, losing your head,                                                                                      Can't hold a candle to, burning the candle at both ends,                                                                                                             at the crack of dawn, caught with his pants down, the naked truth,                    
a checkered past. Out of the frying pan into the fire.                                    Playing with fire, a burning question, that inflames me!                                   This is for the birds, two in the bush, killing two birds with one stone                                                                                       Fair weather friend’s, fly the coop and birds of a feather flock together                                                       Looking like the cat, that ate the canary, the bird's eye view.                                                                                                  Cat got your tongue, the big cheese is a better mousetrap                                      
Don't look a gift horse, in the mouth and the horse you rode in on          
Beating a dead horse, I got to see a man about a horse!                        
Living hand to mouth, biting the hand that feeds you,                                    
A knuckle sandwich, that’s a mouthful. He is full of himself

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2018

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Chip off the old block

My father put the question to me:
Son, when you grow up, what do you want to be?
My mother, suspicious, waited for
my unrehearsed reply with more
than her usual inattention.

And so, without any hesitation,
I said, “I want to be like you, dad.”
Her face turned red and she grew mad,
rushed to the fridge and got a beer
and said: “Start drinking to your career.”

Copyright © Maurice Rigoler | Year Posted 2018