Best Congratulating Poems
Remember years ago, when you were fit
Now you can't stand too long, before you have to sit
And all the times that you ran to catch your bus
Now it just passes by and you stand and cuss.
In the days gone by you'd eat like a horse
Now when you go out it's only one course
And much smaller bites when you do eat
Because your sweet tooth has cost you your teeth.
And the beautiful body you had as a young teen
Now when you go to the beach, you hope you're not seen
And tying your laces it's hard if your tall
You have to rise slowly because you might fall.
You go up to your bed feeling alright
Chances are you'll be up in the night
Having an accident is something you dread
So you put plastic sheets all over your bed.
And your eyes are not as good as they used to be
So you have to wear glasses just so you can see
But it's not all gloom there is the odd perk
You can stay in bed later, because you don't have to work.
And you've been through life you're wiser too
When your family need advice they'll come to you
So burn the candle both ends, just have a ball
And enjoy your life until you get the call.
Written 1ST February 2018. ( POTD 2/2/2018)
For POTD Poetry contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux.
I remember receiving a comment congratulating me and I must be honest was gobsmacked to receive the honour of POTD.
From the comments I received I could see that many on soup could identify with some of the things I had mentioned in my poem.
The general feeling to sum up was ( GETTING ON IN YEARS SUCKS BIG TIME )
so we really have to make the most of what time we have left on earth.
P.S. have read your verse 'Broken People'
Proudly the white tummies purposefully sauntered forth
Orange arrow beaks decidedly pointed
Stubby feet not nearly strong enough to hold them up
Yellow mirrored eyeballs, reflecting the sun
In sheer giddiness, frightening the menfolk.
I stopped the wagon train and gave them a stern talking to.
Yes, I am the wagon master, thank you much.
And this is the Wild Venus, not the Wild West.
It is a new world, of course.
Unfortunately when I stopped them, they fell over
Onto each other’s laps, making the menfolk laugh and laugh
Making me sorry we had given them their lobotomies before we reached destination
It was the only way we knew to control their testosterone,
Of course, it was my idea, one of my worst I later discovered.
We resumed our journey after they all regained a semblance of composure
Our pet menfolk and our pet yellow-bellies.
I smiled, knowing I might have been right all along.
Women would rule the Venus colony
TVs would be banned, and no animals would be harmed
In cages or hunted or trapped or any of that nonsense.
Some other women came to my wagon that night
We formed a sing along bonfire, and we laughed and talked well until morning.
Knowing our menfolk would be more than willing to get up with the
One point two children we had allowed ourselves and our
Yellow penguin brigade.
Congratulating ourselves on our new status
Rulers of Venus, Committee of Sixteen,
Power of the Woman
In Charge Forever
Until we realized sixteen women cannot agree on anything.
Without at least one or two opinions from the yellow penguins.
That is when it all changed. And they slyly took over,
Feeding us the feminine-out-sauce that took away our will and our minds.
Well done white tummies. Well done!
(just an
exaggeration
of
negativity
lyrically, so
dont come
scolding
me):) ;)
They
might
wish me a
'HAPPY
BIRTHDAY'
or even
'many
happy
returns
of the day
My folks
send me
gifts and
greeting
Congratulating
me
on a life
that's
fleeting?
Yeah, so I
happen to
be
pessimistic
on this at
times
who sees
life as an
hourglass
One who
sees the
glass half
empty
rather
than half
full
For I
vision
each
birthday
as a step
closer to
old age
A step
closer to
dreaded
death
Isn't it
hard to
look
forward
to going
gaga and
decrepit?
When
smooth
skin would
end
up
crumpled,
wrinkled
Thus each
birthday
to me
is a step
closer to
the end of
a
lifetime
A step
closer to
that
unwanted
guest-
senility
The
reverting
to child-
like
inability,
debility
The
dwindling
of all
agility
The age of
doddering
limbs
half in the
grave
So I'd
rather not
celebrate
the
nearing of
the time
when
we'd
playback
em' flash-
backs
and in the
mind re-
live our
life
tracks.
When
everything
would
trickle
down to
mere
memories
With
ample time
to linger
upon
life's
souvenirs.
So a
birthday is
a step
forward
but
towards
thy
graveyard
The road
to it may
be longer
or
unfortunately
may end
abruptly
in a short
cut
to heaven
or to hell
bard or no
bard!
Is it beauty that stimulates our imagination and excites our heart,the colors, the
designs, the shapes,we marvel in awe at them like a baby with it's new toy
What is beauty? asked an old blind man.
Is it as beautiful as the sound of the birds and the bees or the breeze blowing
through trees.
The rain is beautiful the way it blows with the wind congratulating my body as it
touches my skin.
Beautiful is the invigorating odors and the fragrance of the flowers i smell when i
go for morning walks to pick up shells,the greeting of the morning sun always
reminds me that the day has begun.
Its very beautiful to me when i groom my horses in the barn my heart sings when
i stroke them with my hand, smooth as silk their body's fell, sounds they make
once given a meal.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder i was always told,i have never seen anything
even in my days of old.
Is beauty something that u can only see?i am asking a question will u please tell
me.
A blind person beauty is not felt by vision-i give you a few examples in some of
my expression's.
Beauty isn't always above the skin it also lies deep within.
When I am looking at the end of the board, my world shrinks down to that one foot at the end of the board. My hands swing gently back and forth, and back again. My mind tries to focus letting all the noises from outside of it fade into the background. Because when is it truly ever quiet? The noise almost becomes something, calming, and normal, very reassuring.A song runs through my head keeping all the fragile bits of you together. Do the hurdle first. Is all I can think, do the hurdle then the dive. My arms swing forward once again, but this time you take my first step perfectly in time with the rhythm of my movement. I take a second step, covering ground, quickly, but not rushed. And then my third step, a powerful lunge that caries my other foot high as my arms rise to the celling I put all of my power into the final jump, landing squarely on the end of the board crouching down, letting my arms circle around, then reach towards the heights I wish to achieve and feeling the board spring me into the sky, where I hang suspended in time waiting the one precious second, letting myself reach my full height. Then I throw your arms down with the accumulated power and momentum that have been waiting for this very moment. I touch my toes as they touch the sky, the wind ruffles my already wet hair, and the feeling of flight has never been so close the world flashes past and I dimly realize that the celling has come around again, and it is time to extend. I am in full control as my body straightens and my toes point down to the water once again. This time though I am falling, not flying, yet it does not seem any worse. My arms stay close to my side and my body stays perfectly straight as my first toe touches the water, which then engulfs me. I sink slowly down staying straight, until my feet touch the bottom of the thirteen foot pool and I am once again pushing up towards the light. My head breaks the surface and it seems as if I catch up with time again. Somewhere an announcer is calling out the judges’ scores, but all I can notice in this bewildering moment is the smiles and congratulating high fives of the people I know the best, my team. I did it. I think, allowing a small moment of pride.I mingle and wait, counting the seconds, until I can fly again.
We talk about the sacred,
places ancient as fire, palaces divine in quagmire,
getting lost in footsteps of artistic archaeology,
uprooting ghosts in structure's facings,
We want to know why knowledge is forbidden outside the skin
of nourishment's tastings,
pineing for the verbotten dialect of perfect sin,
needing to understand why boats become skuttled in sands of dread,
asking why it seems angels along with demons our confusion conspire,
Staring into faces of stone like children seeing new color,
wondering if those rigid lips will ever confess a crime that We could forgive,
is there rhyme in love haunted by punished valor,
could there be trust established in harmony with ambition refusing to give,
communicating as birds before the malstrom
for directions to the shelter that made Time begin in form when thunder rung,
running into the genesis of Life & Death We trumpet like heros
congratulating each other for finding beauty in burdensome burrows -
J.A.B. Dedicated to all community builders -
It is now ten minutes past noon,
So, I can wish you a good afternoon,
The clouds are gracefully displaying,
Whatever an artist imagines,
But my production manager is glaring,
Say your bit quick he mouths me,
Cheekily I replied, ‘let me be’,
I take a deep breath, and the sun
Peeps from underneath,
Playing hide and seek, having fun,
Oh, I see a cloud shape of a bunny,
That really looks funny,
Don’t forget to take your wellies,
For rain will certainly pour
At approximately three, maybe four.
Splash through every puddle,
Don’t forget to cuddle huddle,
Fun is in the air, a chilly Easterly
Actually no Westerly,
Breeze will later bring wild winds
Tell your mummy or daddy to pull
Down your window blinds,
Pack a warm jersey as well,
You can never tell ,
What will be the weather,
How ‘bout we get together,
Where are you going for tea,
Would you not rather join me.
Phones began ringing
I’m suddenly thinking,
Things look very busy on my TV
Slot, parents congratulating me,
Children stop homework
To listen and see,
My weather forecast,
Golly, a hurricane has just passed,
Aren’t we lucky,
High five and pinkie three,
I got transferred to kiddies TV
Where I’d much rather be!
Contest Entry: "You're a Weather Forecaster"
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Date; 2022/03/21
I drive the hill trying not to spill. But yet I still prove I’m for real. As rain begins to fall making the road a slip and slide. As I come to see the ones who came to bleed. As the drove so stupidly and crazy. As I come realizing the way of driving is. As it can be so very extrodernairy as the other peeps are watching my driving also congratulating me do to my learning also my skilled my driving. But I just come to say my opinion it’s (just skill) to me as I perform it’s coming out to be as a play. With every turn you come to sway around. As people’s thoughts begin to sprout out as they begin hearing that screeching. Of the tires burning. Down on top of the paved asphalt
I get a grand old high flowing on the paved streets coming to b seen and moving at sex speed as the woman still stand screaming (I want u baby) but as they watch me begin my drifting and presenting all my skill but as I round the last couple corners making the crowd really fall for u but as the line comes to arrive crowds thought come to be false and as I cross the finish line blowing the crowds mind to see me come blasting past so damn fast as I skid turning in the dead grass of the end I get out screaming do to my winning and earnings
The beeper sounded, the heart beat stopped - we all knew what to do
Automatic reactions come into place - when life saving's down to you
Adrenaline now, and check his oxygen, we don’t want to damage his brain
Get the paddles charged quickly, we may be needing them again
A flicker, a trace, the heats starts to beat
A pat on the shoulder a whispered “Well done again death we did cheat”
I smile at the face belonging - to the hand congratulating me
A glow of light shining in his eyes, that are looking but don't see.
A smile content, a smile unknown - I did not know his name
The beepers flashed the monitor flat lined, here we go again.
Defibrillation I yell, make it quick - what’s his pressure now?
The comforting man beside me proceeded to mop my brow.
He said “Stop and think and remember, you really must stay calm”
Only three times defibrillation- rushed decisions can do more harm.
I nodded in agreement, but who did he think he was to tell me
I would have words with him after this, then who’s in charge he would see.
He whispered “Amiodarone” I looked at him- his manner confident
The comfort in his eyes - my temper did relent.
I administered the Amiodarone, his beat settled - I could relax a little bit
I would not have this assistant though implying - I might be losing it.
“Stitch him up I am done, how are his vital signs?”
I turned to the man to question, his aim which was me to undermine.
The man with the light in his eyes was gone, I wanted to know where
The surgical team looked at me with a look close to despair.
I looked at my patient on the table to reassure myself he was good
I recognised his comforting face - I never thought I would.
The man with the light in his eyes was lying with tubes all over
I checked his notes and felt very strange on turning the first page over.
The man was a Doctor, a Cardiologist who nearly died upon my table
But this was the man that reminded me- to remain calm if I was able.
I felt faint I did not know what to do this man had died twice in front of me
How could he have been beside me, but then no one else did see?
Shadow please your tender is in confusion
As now I am congratulating your action
Through your humility as it is also seen through your actions
Independent you are from time of creation
we make mistakes at once
You tender from confused direction
Why are you from the beginning
And ending my companion?
Together we are in the opinion,
But except for the pains
You don't opposed our decisions
But we make mistake at once
I know your tender is in confusion now
Our actions are seen from me alone
Why Is it not our making?
Why continue following my journey?
When the crops grows only on my head
You now know when I breath no more
Did we make mistake together
Shadow alone now you will value your tender
But its me alome going to account for us
Or are we accounting together?
You foolishly accept my command
Did we make the action together?
Shadow i talk about tender no more
My bones are weal now
I should have known when you hide in darkness
When I only bear my name
May be you are nothing real
When we come to this globe
Finally we are now together and forever.
my shadow
Shadow please your tender is in confusion
As now I am congratulating your action
Through your humility as it is also seen through your actions
Independent you are from time of creation
we make mistakes at once
You tender from confused direction
Why are you from the beginning
And ending my companion?
Together we are in the opinion,
But except for the pains
You don't opposed our decisions
But we make mistake at once
I know your tender is in confusion now
Our actions are seen from me alone
Why Is it not our making?
Why continue following my journey?
When the crops grows only on my head
You now know when I breath no more
Did we make mistake together
Shadow alone now you will value your tender
But its me alome going to account for us
Or are we accounting together?
You foolishly accept my command
Did we make the action together?
Shadow i talk about tender no more
My bones are weal now
I should have known when you hide in darkness
When I only bear my name
May be you are nothing real
When we come to this globe
Finally we are now together and forever.
swimming in a vast pool of
self-congratulating intellectuals,
s/he will always have company
amongst those who take themselves
way too seriously.
Dad gave me no affectionate hugs,
only demanded obedience
with his stern and merciless glance;
he saw in me a rebellious son,
someone who felt the animosity
toward him for being a moron...
doesn't a father instill confidence,
in his son, or deride him for being shy?
Dad was a self-centered being and cared
more about his acquaintances than his family,
lavish tables he spread and celebrated
with them while his children stood back and watched,
while mom cooked and served meals to the guests;
everything had to be perfect, or he would get mad.
He bought the best wines and desserts,
and made sure they appreciated his hospitality.
I might have loved him and honored him,
if he hadn't been that patriarchal father
so insensitive and arrogant denying me the freedom
to express myself humanly as other kids did;
I grew up without guidance or a shake of hand...
congratulating me on my smallest achievements,
I felt he wasn't a father but that stranger
I was afraid to approach and confide in him and be friends.
Dad destroyed the adolescence of a humble son
growing up loving his mom more than him, and if
if I disliked him or even hated him I committed no sin;
if a father loves his son, he deserves to be loved back
and owed due respect, why did he turn me into a nervous wreck?
Wasn't I desperate enough to harm myself, or jump off a cliff?
I usually spend my summer vacation outside, all day long,
Enjoying the flowers, the bushes, the trees, and the birds that I have planted and or fed.
I should be congratulating myself for cleaning out the garage,
But I am too worn out from the humidity to move. All I want is air conditioning, and the TV.
My school system does not have a mandatory retirement age.
Good thing, as I intend to go out at age 92, feet first, in a body bag.
This summer vacation junk is killing me.
It simply is not the kind of fun I am used to.
Not good enough for the likes of me.
Not likeable at all after the first
Two weeks, which means
I have six weeks of ugh.
When I was younger, I laughed when
I heard about the eighty-nine year old
Kindergarten teacher who got mad
And quit when they re-assigned her
To sixth grade. They had been trying
To get her to retire for twenty years.
She had taught kindergarten for
Sixty-seven years.
Now I get it.
fast as a blitzen comet,
this dashing prancer
contra dancer
(i.e. Rudolph nary hoof) didst zip
with cupid ditty toward his vixen wife,
who loosed a suppressed yip
asper one discovering remains of the day
from the donner
(newt the majority) party whip
ping her olive drab camouflage attire,
as if she hapt to be a vip
endlessly congratulating herself
(and bow wowing her ego) bing awarded
the housekeeping seal of approval,
and expected me to tip
her gore gee us Martha Stewart déclassé
snoop doggy dog rendition
as she did slip
agilely (with broom and dustpan in hand) rip
peat head lee uttering
an apropos Mary Poppins quip
booting muck can clear across to Compton
(wherever that might be) pip
pin like a cat on a hot tin roof,
where no cure existed to nip
in the bud at this stage,
and rid thine beloved Narberth bride,
who caught a bout clean destine
feverish frenzy to make house beautiful,
oblivious to beseeching despair,
sans this husband who cried
plaintively imploring divine intervention,
lest extreme heroic measures
need be taken, thus guide
me asap before her blistered hands
rubbed red as tender (vittles) raw hide,
which could find her catatonic, doggone
ill eagle lee flying a boot
like a bat out of hell, and stupefied
hence, this urgent message typed out in a huff
for less severe invasive
experimental treatment truly tried
on this, that, or some other missus so and so
.....please pardon this abrupt end,
plus initial idea wide
lee differing from my initial intent won
during how to write an elegy to mister son
describing, how aye felt enervated with run
hills of beaming solar rays, oh how none
synthetic drug to bathe,
enhance, suffuse away mon
day moody blues,
and now...gotta tend tummy hun!