Best Cut It Poems | Poetry

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Cut it Out by Boardman, Heather
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Poet -This Poem is About You

-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- 

Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off 
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause 

The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse 
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse 
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse 
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance, 
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers 
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest, 
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein

You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal, 
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree 
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."

I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter, 
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer 
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer

Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light, 
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes, 
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.

If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause

by;PD
I do it for fun


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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Voyeur

You look through the windows of my poetry
Deep into the bedroom of my heart
you watch me undress
button by button
It slowly slips down
You adjust the focus
of those binoculars on your screen
reading my poetry
seeing my naked soul
you watch 
for free
at a distance
at a safe distance

You watch me dance
In your mesmerized trance
You watch me smile
and all the while
You watch
You see the tears
you see the shadow of fears
streaking my face
leaving a trace
you watch

day in
day out
night time
wondering if I'm alone
if anybody else is home
if my bed is warm
if you see another form
there with me
you NEED to see
I feel your eyes
looking in through my poetry window

Voyeur
you're just a voyeur
living my life vicariously
without touching me
it's your destiny
you look for safety
a distance you keep from me
I know you're there
I relish your stare
I know you want to 
walk through that door
looking for something more
but your too afraid
of the inconvenience
of my moods
my happy swings
my sorrowful stings

You're a voyeur
You watch me for free
but one day
I'll close the shutters
blocking my words
withering your soul
as you wither mine
it's fine

Voyeurism is just...
just a waste of time
I want to flesh and blood with you
it's true
But voyeurism
is all you know how to do
One day
Your "watching days"
They will all be through

Another will watch AND caress
will help me undress
and kiss and will bless
all that and more
for the one
who walks through the door
and dances with me
and sets demons free
Voyeurism
doesn't cut it 
with me!


Eileen




Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015


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God Knows

Look at the color of that face,
It should not be in this place,
We do not want that face to stay,
Stop! God loves that face anyway

Look at that black evil heart,
Terrible hatred it must impart,
Cut it out and throw it away,
Stop! God loves that heart anyway

The truth is not in him for he is a liar,
He spreads deceit like a wildfire,
Don’t believe a word he might say,
Stop! God loves him anyway

Look at her, the loose jezebel,
She has slept with everyone I can tell,
Don’t speak to her today,
Stop! God loves her anyway

There is that man a convicted thief,
He is worth nothing and has caused much grief,
Lock your door while you are away,
Stop! God loves him anyway

How ugly are those deformed legs,
What a pitiful disgrace when he begs,
It is best to ignore him, look away,
Stop! God loves him anyway

How fat can one person be?
That is so disgusting, I am glad it’s not me,
How could anyone end up this way,
Stop! God loves him anyway

What a complete failure of a man I say,
He has never had anything go his way,
People laugh at him every day,
Stop! God loves him anyway

She murdered her child before it’s birth,
She thinks it was nothing without any worth,
A monster without a conscious some say,
Stop! God loves her anyway

That drunkard, never enough for him to drink,
He’s thrown his life down a bottle I think,
A stop in every bar along his way,
Stop! God loves him anyway

She is the biggest hypocrite that ever lived,
Two faced with nothing ever good to give,
I hope she gets her reward I pray,
Stop! God loves her anyway

Her mind is gone, she is curled on the floor,
Throw her a hospital, lock the door,
We don’t have to think about her this way,
Stop! God loves her anyway

I am a pitiful waste I realize,
I will never measure up in anyone’s eyes,
It’s too late for I give up today,
Stop! God loves me anyway!

If God forgives so should we,
If we accept Christ, God will set us free,
Before you judge today,
Stop! God loves us all anyway!


Copyright © Timothy McGuire | Year Posted 2018


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The Little Fir Tree

There was a plantation of fir trees
for some unknown reason, most of them
were three to four years old but one,
it was only in its first year of growth.

When Christmas drew near, the loggers came
and started to cut down some of the oldest.
The little fir asked "What is going on?"
The other trees said its Christmas time.

They will be taken into people's homes 
then they will be decorated and lit up.
Parcels at their feet sharing the joy
of Christmas, a real honour to be chosen.

"I want to be a Christmas tree," said the fir.
You are much too young and far too little,
they take most trees when they are four,
you will have to wait and do some growing.

"I want it to be spring, it said not winter
then I will be able to grow big like you".
Soon the loggers had finished cutting down,
now there were large gaps in the rows.

The little fir thought lots of sun helps,
at last the spring came and with it growth.
The little fir stretched as high as it could
filling out as it reached upwards for the sun.

In the morning men came and started to plant
soon there were lots of little trees around.
One worker said," strange there is one little one
should we cut it down". "No leave it to grow bigger".

The little fir grew all through the summer
enjoying the hot lazy days while it could,
it saw many changes over the weeks and months
as autumn passed away the land cooled down.

Then came the snows of winter, a blizzard or two
the snow lay heaped around the little fir's roots.
It will soon be time for the loggers to come
then all us four year old's will be Christmas trees.

"I wish I could be a Christmas tree like all of you".
"You will have to grow a lot more before they take you".
The little tree sighed, it so badly wanted to be one,
next day the loggers came and took the older trees.

Once more the rows looked very bare and also bleak,
the little tree hunkered down to wait for spring.
Then one day a little girl and her dad came
they walked down the rows looking at all the trees.

"That one", she shouted, "dad", pointing at the little fir.
"It is rather small, would you not like a bigger one".
"No, no", said the little girl, "that one is perfect.
I can reach to do most of the decorating of it's branches".

Fantastic thought the little tree, I am a Christmas tree
they gently cut it down and carried it to their truck,
when they got home they put some growth power on the base
and planted it in a great big pot that was a shiny red.

The tree looked around the room in awe struck wonder
there were flashing lights around the snowy windows.
Cards strung over the fire mantle, so very colourful,
streamers hung from corner to corner looking so gay.

Then they started to put baubles, tinsel and lights
and a lovely angel to go on the top it felt so good,
at last the little fir would know what Christmas
was like, it watched all the fun as the presents.

Were passed around and eagerly opened with sighs
and shouts of delight, the tree smiled at their joy.
Now finally they sat down and ate their dinner
with many toasts being passed, at last it was over.

Then next day they took the little fir outside
and put it in a cold frame to protect it for the winter. 
oh wow! it thought I will be a Christmas tree again next year
and so the little fir tree got it's dearest wish.

written 12/20/2013 

contest Children's Christmas or holiday Tale


Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2013


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Such Wonders Are Breathtaking To Behold

Such Wonders Are Breathtaking To Behold

(NOT FOR CONTEST THAT INSPIRED THIS POEM)

The morning dew on red rose does glisten
As early dawning sun beams brightly down
Such beauty, bees decorate that soft gown
As Nature's music plays, creatures listen
Seeing such, in great awe man can not frown
Be it in wilds of the woods or hometown
Such depth of beauty must always glisten

Such wonders are breathtaking to behold
Wherein life, earth, and brighter blue sky meet
That greatness of all tends to gladly greet
The wise hearts and souls of both young and old
Cold of winter or steam of summer heat
Depths of vivid colors can not be beat
Could man find greater beauty to behold 

Where forests meet the rivers flowing deep
Colorful riverbanks birth soft flowers
Light beaming down, feeding glory the hours
Even with moon's glowing while creatures sleep
Some spread colors tall as mountain towers
This shining shows Nature's true life powers
Wisdom man would do well to ponder deep

Upon meadows ranging across this land
Spreads panorama of colors and life 
Cutting its scenic views like a sharp knife
With precision through crops and timberland 
Nature hands both man and animals strife
Its flows in time, where life and death are rife 
Across breadth of all earth's majestic land

Jungles and mountains across its wide space
In Africa's wildness teeming life glows
In fantastic beauty, great spirit shows
Within hardiness of its festive face
Stirs toughness, a higher power bestows
Regardless of how bad the ill wind blows
There growing, its creatures and human race

As winds blow across panoramic views
Life splashes within its colorful deep scenes
Even without mortals or their machines
Nature's beauty casts for its many hues
Despite plunder, man does by other means
Nature's can correct as it grooms and preens
And if not, mankind gets to pay its dues

We may admire scenes of earth and wildlife
Yet ignore the plight of destruction wrought
Great wonders destroyed from changes we brought
Our habit to gift unintended strife
Far more destructive than any dreadnought
Are actions we fail to ever be taught
Costs of our higher quality of life

Robert J. Lindley, 3-27-2016

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 490
Total # Lines:	56 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	
Total # Words:	350
-------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------
Contest-- Specifications and suggestions from sponsor.

1.HUMAN NATURE

Nature and humanity

FORM : 4 stanza poem that has 7 lines in each stanza and in the following format:

First three lines describe nature, a natural feature, lakes, mountains, forests, game reserves etc. You can personify nature

4th line is a bridge i.e shifting to the human side

5, 6 and 7 lines bring in the human aspect (What people do there, how they interact with nature, fun things to do/see, what you did there what you would like to do there etc)

The poem must have the following rhyme scheme: ABCACBA

Minimum number of syllables per line must be 6 and maximum must not exceed 10

I will be impressed by the use of the following in your poem(but dont over do)

Imagery - Take me there with your words

Alliteration,

Assonance and Consonance

I also love learning new words: Make the dictionary your friend

Cliches knock the stuffing out of me......so

You can submit new and old poems(Just make sure they conform to the format laid out here)
-----------------------------
-----------------------------
NOT ENTERING CONTEST AS I WROTE THIS WITHOUT STOPPING THIS MORNING AND IT CAME OUT OF ME AS 7 STANZAS.
THUS DOES NOT QUALIFY AS A 4 STANZAS POEM WAS REQUIRED.
I REFUSE TO CUT IT DOWN EVEN ONE WORD TO ENTER.....



Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016


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Sorry

"Sorry" doesn't cut it.
Well neither does a butter knife.
I guess I'll have to say "sorry" 
For being in your life.
"Sorry" for being black.
And doing what i do best.
Like RAP, BASKETBALL and SWEAT.
Instead of studying for a test.
"Sorry" for being imperfect
"Sorry" for getting sick
"Sorry" for being a man
"Sorry" for makin' you tick
There are some things you cannot change
Like color and heredity.
There's one thing I forgot to say.
"Sorry" for bein' me.

**************
This is sort of a sarcastic poem. I love me. :)


Copyright © Jonathan White | Year Posted 2006


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The Bottomless Pit

From the bottom of an abandoned gravel pit
behind my childhood home, seated, 
leaning against its hardpacked sandy side,
he watched the July sun set,
the empty prescription bottle at his side.

Did he walk that day to his unnatural fate
slowly, shoulders rolling like a big cat,
alternating first one, then the other, 
forward, head bent, one black errant
curl tumbling across his troubled forehead.

Did he hesitate or did he hurry
and did he think of me, just 12,
soon to be fatherless, before he
began his two weeks of decomposing
in the hot Texas sun until
the man on horseback found him
while looking for a lost calf. 

I couldn't blame my mother 
for the divorce she filed.
I had wanted him to leave, too,
and hadn't I prayed he would die
when he dragged her over the yard,
by a handful of her hair clasped
tightly in his fist,
because she had cut it without his permission.
		
Especially the next day when I found
the clump of auburn hair caught in the lush 
purple blooms of the wisteria bush,
I wanted him to die.

He played his harmonica for me,
and I sang, "Daddy's Little Darling, 
Don't you think I'm sweet?"
But I prayed my dad would die,
and though I asked God to ignore those
prayers of terror, I will never be able to
love enough wayward men to save my dad.




Copyright © Emerson Adkins | Year Posted 2012


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The Feast of Tabernacles - The Healing Journey

10/1/12

------------------------------------

Many have abused and murdered using their religion to justify
Believing in a god will not save this writhing world
So what will?
God teaches us that only believing won’t cut it
There is something we must do
We must humble ourselves and strive to be holy
Because without submission to God,
Without humility,
Satan has a way inside
And he will use God as a weapon
And turn His people against them
But if we are called—
Those few who are called,
We must act to be lights of the world
Because faith without works
Means absolutely nothing

We all falter
We all break
We can all be submissive
And humble

Using God as our navigator to the gateway of life
No longer justifying our wrongs
But fixing them as we go along

*inspired by Jerry Degier*


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012


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Can you believe that a poet would write this


What do you do with a fried lemon sandwich when lavender leaves have messed up its hair How to you cut it in two equal pieces while no one is home and you don’t like to share Why is it sitting alone at the counter as saucers of milk perform on the stage Where is the flavor when bland is in fashion and comic books sing on the very next page Will you surrender to appetites chanting, crossing the line where the pickets are white Shoveling corn flakes when it is not snowing, flying a kernel instead of a kite Serving a side that is right down the middle, leftover vegetables mashed into paste Like a potato but not very filling, smothered in ketchup to drown out the taste Do you like tablecloths made out of vinyl, just like a record but square when they play Nothing to spin when you can’t find a needle, looking through stacks that are covered in hay Cook books too heavy to fit in your diet, checking your math while subtracting a pound Running in place when you’d rather be singing, wishing the dining room table was round Can you believe that a poet would write this, watching a hummingbird outside his door Smiling from one ear but not to the other feeling the pinch when his cheeks are too sore Maybe his mind is a field of distraction perhaps it is someone that he’s thinking of It’s a safe bet amid all this confusion the poet who wrote this has fallen in love


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016


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Wanted: Heart

I'm looking for a human heart,
A new one, por favor ...
Mine is cold and broken,
I don't want it anymore.

It served me well for quite a while,
And beat with rhythm, sure ...
But its seams are ripped and ragged,
Since I heard "goodbye" from her.

I only need a small one,
I don't plan to use it much,
I have no need for loving,
Just pumping blood and such.

I won't need help exchanging,
Of that, I have no doubt ...
There's no surgery required,
She already cut it out.


Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2016


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Your War Within

Living in Christ Jesus is not all easy
for there's fighting going on inside
even though the holy spirit's living in
the old sinful nature still there to abide

This is the ultimate war of all
where sin must be rooted out
so Jesus gives you the victory
in obedience to holy writ no doubt

The greatest fight is in the mind
make every thought captive to Christ
giving no room for any sinful seed
cut it at it's root so won't be enticed

Fill the mind all that's good
keep it active with all that's pure
show yourself one approved to God
for His grace brings a certain cure

Set your goal to glorify your Lord
give no place for the flesh to rule
be truly spiritual focus on Jesus alone
for when you do then you're no fool

('We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ,' 2 Corinthians 10: 5
'See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ.' Colossians 2: 8)


Copyright © Gordon McConnell | Year Posted 2017


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ME TOO

ME TOO

So what’s all the to-do with “me too”
So we join the many instead of the few
It all seems another act of distract
Play popularity’s game of trivial fact

One of those “me toos”
living under a pinned shoe

One of those “me toos”
Still can’t see “the forest through the trees”

The same game continues to be played
Of “hide and seek”

You just choose the game and roll the dice
Anyway you cut it up, you take a slice

One of the “me toos”
Looking to distract

Instead reach out with love
Open your eyes and ears
Have courage to lose
Your life, job, career

Because until that happens…
I don’t care to join in the sea
That sleeps with nightmares

Only when someone’s exposed
Then it’s safe to depose
And let everyone know
How “brave you are”

The courageous are often slammed
Patted on the head
“Oh, he’s just like that dear.
Be a good girl.
You’ll become a star”

How many sell their soul
Let the devil do it over and over
Again

Steamed and pressed
You’re ready for the press
“Smile, like a good girl
You’re a star”

Not far to jump
To take your clothes
Off for the next starring role

And see the next young thing
Crying behind closed doors
As you say

“Smile. Be a good girl…

Yes, me too”

Kim Rodrigues © 2017


Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017


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Death Of Marie Antoinette

 THE DEATH OF MARIE ANTOINETTE
 (MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE)
Songwriters set their words about her style
and artists make pursuit to paint her smile
but all the light that's Paris, shows,
her heart and soul to only those
who come to fall in love for just while.

But knowing this, my wondering still lies
as I recall Marie, her face,her eyes,
and she is just a memory
though what I'd have to always be,
if time was mine and not a thing that flies.

I trace my blood and line of ancestry
down through some troubled times of history
or is it that I've journeyed long
from when my life went all so wrong
but it's so far removed, my mind can't see?

These questions rake my mind and leave me cold,
Am I my father who's still growing old;
and who is she, to go away
to deju vu--to yesterday,
or has she layed our love to times' unfold?

I guess I'll find her on Champs Elysees,
or in the Champ de Mars, where children play
or where one day the guillotine
cut life away, and cut it clean,
but this is now, and that was yesterday.

O! I would lay my neck under the blade;
if there would ever be a diff'rence made
to end the pain she left in me
and stop the love for my Marie
but love--this love for her can never fade.

And so, as other loves they come and go,
as Paris says, and Paris makes it so,
I wait and wander by the Seine
but know not where, and know not when,
for love of my Marie, she'll come, I know.
© RON WILSON aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2017


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Drunken Thoughts

You fooled me
You played me
You cheated on me
I'm at a lost 
Drowning on thoughts 
Sinking deeper
Darkness closing in
Mind flick 
Anger ignite
The now raging fire is about to explode 
Let lose is the scream sounding beyond 
Awaken are those who sleeps on drunken thoughts 
Blinded and disarrayed 
A spark of reality flashed
I'm a fool for being fooled
I'm pathetic for being played
I'm a loser for being cheated on
Who am I now
Hungover on thoughts
Tears of  great pain are flowing wildly
like streams in a bad storm 
Feeling sorry isn't going to cut it
Regretting isn't going to rewind yesterday
Hating you won't free me of you 
But walking away is a start
Making today be a new beginning 
Beginning of respecting myself 
and let you be the death of 
my drunken thoughts
That would be me now... Smile!
       
       Akkina R Downing 
            11-16-16


Copyright © Akkina Downing | Year Posted 2016


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I'm Afraid

I'm afraid this isn't real.
That this is another game,
someone played,
To enjoy themselves.

I'm afraid that,
To feel my heart beat again,
Just to make it break,
and cut it again.

I'm afraid that,
My heart will stop,
with all these scars,
and I'll lose who I am.

I'm afraid that the one,
I want to know.
She'll go and move,
before I had a chance to know.

I'm afraid that,
all will turn their backs,
Outcast me once again.
That I'll be alone from a friend.

I'm afraid that,
I dont got much time.
So I'm trying my best.
Telling the ones that I care.

We only have 24 hours,
7 days a week.
I'm sorry if Im rushing things,
but I dont want to miss a anything.

I want to enjoy life,
not be afraid anymore.
But that thought in
the back of my head keeps saying,

This could be faked once more.
I pray it isn't.
I pray this is real.
For how much more damage

Can a man take,
Not even made from steel.


Copyright © Eric Urbas | Year Posted 2013


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Speak Freely

Give me some contention
I need a good head spin 
I don't think you can fathom
All the trouble that I'm in

Serve free speech for dinner
Let's cut it to pieces
Divide it among us
And see how far it reaches

If you told me what you thought
Would I be compromised? 
And in the heat from your fire
Would I have to pick sides?

If I told you what I thought
Would it pull out your roots?
Would it give you the impulse
To give me the boot?

I am no dogmatist 
Man, I just want the truth
If you ban the contention
You are banning the proof 

If some opinions are contraband
Then can't I conclude:
If the truth can't defend itself
How is it true?


Copyright © Kyle kriticos | Year Posted 2018


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My dreams

My poetry is so high,
And so near to the madness,
Because to it I do apply
My happy dreams, not life of sadness.

The wingy dreams live own life
Within my poor sinful soul.
They cut it sharply like a knife
When I return to earthly soil.

They do not want to get away.
I mix my life with them, & so
I do not know what to say
When I’m asked: "How life does go?"


Copyright © Valentina Iljina-Pechenova | Year Posted 2018


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E=mc2

Never really quite understood,
so mind boggling it's just no good,
Albert Einstein's Theory of Relativity.

E=mc2 he defined as Energy
equals Mass times twice Velocity -
but what's that to a poor wage earner like me?

Armstrong got to the moon thanks to this theory,
I don't believe it at all, it's plain trickery,
surely he was just fooling everybody.

Newton's Law of Gravity I can well understand -
you fall from a tree, you're dead and you're done;
but a hocus-pocus thing like Relativity, no way!

This Einsteinian mind game's not my cup of tea,
it's so ridiculous it could never ever be,
it just won't cut it for me.

Had ole Albert simply said that apple is purple,
orange is not a color and melon is no lemon,
life would be easier for this rotten simpleton.

Ah, might as well just stick to prose and poetry,
won't cause trouble to my mind and body,
not to mention my sanity!



Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito | Year Posted 2007


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Call Me Tex

Listen to poem:
When I was just a teenage lad, and growing up out west
I never wore a cowboy hat or fancy leather vests,
never put on cowboy boots or western shirts with snaps,
never wore tooled leather belts, much less a pair of chaps.

To be in style the Ivy League was what one wore to school.
A skinny tie and button-down was how you dressed up cool.
We wore Weejun penny loafers and tapered chino slacks.
The boys all sported flattops, kept up straight with wax.

Rock and roll and sock hops, my dance was then the twist.
Cotton-eyed Joe and two-step didn't even make the list.
Good ol' Willie Nelson could hardly make a sound,
'cause the King and Frank Sinatra were the coolest cats around.

But when I joined the service, and moved outside the state,
it didn't matter where I went or if I said my name out straight.
I thought I must have had an omnipresent hex,
'cause when I was out of Texas, they'd always call me Tex.
 
When I said over yonder, they'd all say “Over... Where?”
When I talked about a horny toad, I'd get a funny stare.
It didn't matter if my name was Buck or Roy or Rex,
'cause when I was out of Texas, they'd always call me Tex.

When they shipped me overseas, I thought that I would die!
Couldn't get a Dr. Pepper there, or any Frito pie.
When I wanted longneck Lone Stars, all they had was Beck's
and all those Europeans would always call me Tex.
 
Any label kind of burned me, so right then I made the call.
I'd learn to talk just like those guys, to hide my Texas drawl.
I practiced on my diction, with elocution persevered,
and soon the sideways looks and grins had all but disappeared.

I traveled all around the world, got married overseas.
Learned myself a few more tongues and got a few degrees.
Now if I talk to British lords or European Czechs,
when I masticate the lingo, they never call me Tex.

Finally made it home one day, after way too many years.
Came back to see old pals and maybe share some beers.
I wondered how the touch of time had treated all those lads.
To my surprise, those preppy guys had all turned into their dads.

Each one wore a cowboy hat and dandy leather vest,
some sported a bandana, some with bola ties were dressed.
Some shod those M.L. Leddy boots with fancy pull-on straps,
each had a set of bootcut jeans and western shirts with snaps.

Something then came over me, something that felt right.
I heard my voice inside me say "Well boys, ain't y'all a sight!”
That educated accent that I'd worked so hard to gain,
had evaporated quicker than a light West Texas rain.

I guess that you can travel, and learn lots of fancy stuff,
but with friends who knew you when, there's no way that you can bluff.
They might be polite with you, and humor you no doubt,
but you're better off to cut it loose and let it all hang out.

They all let out a holler, yelling “Waitress bring the checks!
Give 'em to that ugly hombre yonder with the handle Tex.”
Now if I were any other place, I'd likely wring their necks,
but when I'm home in Texas, then you can call me Tex.


Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2013


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Kiwi Fruit

There is a little brown fruit called a “kiwi”.
Some people call it a “Chinese gooseberry“.
It is shaped like an egg, and very hairy.
It is named after a bird in New Zealand.
They are a tasty treat when they are on hand.
Cut it open, and see it is green inside.
Popularity is something not denied.
Seeds of the fruit are embedded in a ring.
Sweet and tangy juice has this edible thing.
Flavor like strawberries make my taste buds sing.
Found in the tropical Southern Hemisphere,
they grow domestically in abundance here.
When in season, they are much lower in price.
So go to your produce store for something nice.



Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2011


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Free Fruits


Green light means go ahead
Make your choice
Here’s a list of the Green light or free, fruits go, go, go and eat them up

Apples, dried: Dried apples make a great snack food and are easy to transport.
Apples, fresh: It makes no difference what variety of apple you choose. My favorite is Golden Delicious. Availability changes with the seasons though
Applesauce unsweetened: Applesauce isn’t just for kids! Grownups like this tart sauce too
Apricots, dried: Dried apricots make a nice snack-the dense, sweet tart apricot taste can be quite addictive
Apricots, fresh:  Apricots are a smooth, sweet summer fruit chock-full nutritional goodness
Blackberries: Blackberries are as big as your thumb, purple and black and thick with juice. I remember picking these as a kid while catching June bugs and watching for snakes
Blueberries: Blueberries are late-summer berries with a very rich taste. They’re great sprinkled ina salad!
Cantaloupe: Cantaloupe comes with its own bowl – just cut it in half and scoop out each half with a spoon
Cherries, sweet, canned: When you buy canned cherries, you’re getting two for a price of one – the fruit and canned 
Cherries, sweet, fresh: Go for cherries when possible, and use frozen ones in a pinch. Canned syrupy pie filling is overloaded with sugar and starch, so avoid it
Dates: A few dates are all you need to fill up
Figs, dried: Dried figs are readily available year-round.The easiest way to chop them is to snip them away with scissors 
Figs, fresh: Fresh figs are healthy fruit that can satisfy a craving for sweetness
Fruit Cocktail: When was the last time you had a serving of this pitch-in dinner specialty?
Nectarines: Necktarines are a smooth-skinned variety of peach. They taste best at the height of the season (in late June and July)
Oranges: oranges are fall and winter fruit. When eaten raw, none of its precious vitamin C is lost.
Papaya: You can bake unripe papayas like squash. They contain papain the dominant ingredient in meat tenderizer
Peaches, canned:  Canned peaches make a quick dessert for any meal
Peaches, fresh: Don’t let a little peach fuzz keep you away. Peaches are delicious and loaded with nutrients
Pears, canned: Cut up canned pears and add them to a salad
Pears, fresh: You can purchase pears green and they will continue to ripen. They do get sweeter as they ripen!
Pineapple, canned: Always buy canned pineapple in its own juice instead of syrup
Pineapple, fresh: Known as symbol of hospitality in the south, fresh pineapple makes a sweet dessert
Plums, canned:  Canned plums are readily available treat.
Plums, fresh: Plums come from trees found in every continent in the world except Antarctica
Prunes, dried: Prunes are dried, purplish-black, freestone plums. They’re rich in flavor. You can also find them infused with essence of orange and lemon
Raisins: Raisins are just dried grapes. They make a handy snack
Raspberries: When they are fully ripe, raspberries caps detach. Midsummer is their prime season
Strawberries: Strawberries are a super food chock-full of health giving nutrients
Tangerines: Tangerines are small, sweet, Chinese oranges. They peel so easily its as if they had a zipper
Watermelon: Watermelon is a summertime treat that can’t be beat! Try freezing watermelon juice in ice-cube trays and adding the cubes to drinks



Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2015


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Rock - Paper - Scissors

Some poets duke it out for a win
A rock would be sure to smash a chin
     Scissors can’t “cut it” either
     But then there’s always paper
Covering rocks to poets’ chagrin
 
The game represents choices we make
When there’s a poetry prize at stake
     Will you cut, cover or smash
     To place first and win the cash
How much dignity will you forsake
 
I’ll use my own paper for my verse
Plagiarism is far too adverse
     You think you know how to rock
     Until you get writer’s block
Then copy others’ words while you curse
 
 
*Entry for PD’s Rock~Paper~Scissors contest
 




Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011


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Dragons Banana Bread

Banana Bread Yum!


Spring was in the air sooo thick that you could cut it with a knife!
As to the Laundromat I went with Dragon at my always, dutiful side.
The sun was shining with all its love, as the birdies sang their songs.
I couldn’t help, but take the machines, at those windows, a mile long!

Yep, we watched the washers wash, and the driers doing their thing away.
By the way, why are they always so hypnotic? Never mind! Any way…
I’ll solve that later, for now; we could smell baking REALLY GREAT! 
Next-door a Bakery, was wafting smells, of fresh Banana Bread, to partake.

Still cooking in the oven, Fresh, Warm, and Enticing, before us, it did call!
A HEAVENLY smell compelled us, pulling relentlessly until, we took the fall.
NO WAY, were we going, to be kept… from running thru, that heavenly door!
Dragon neigh on killed me, as he shoved me out of his way, and onto the floor!

But that can be forgiven. HE IS DRAGON, after all! So I called home, the tip.
Leaving Grandpa Troll, and every citizen of our town, lined up lickety split!
That wilily, bakery man knows us well, by now. Don’t you think, any way?
He had baked enough to float the titanic, for this our weekly, laundry Day… 

As Yum, Yum, here we come, each and every weekly, Blessed laundry day.
Dragon got the first loaf, just to get him out of the way, as Grandpa Troll…
Yep, he kept the peace until finally, everyone was entirely served, all around! 
Unfortunately, I laid my loaf aside, cause I had to move, the clothes next door.

Yep! You got it! Dragon swooped and grabbed my loaf! Darn his ornery hide.
He’d done it again! But I’m clever and had a loaf delivered to my home, laid aside.
And ‘Thank You’, Grandpa Troll, a gentleman as usual, for he had saved me some.
When all was done, and when I got home, my mouth was watering true! YUM!

But when I opened up the door… I found Dragon had beaten me here, too!
For there he sat, downing my loaf… But he HAD saved me a small piece, true. 
Thank God! Or I would have kicked his, ‘You Know What’, clear across the floor! 
Tho, if I had been one more moment later… there would have been no more!   

Grandpa Troll roared with laughter, for we know… Dragons are crafty! For Sure!
But, if you can’t beat em, Join em! Besides, I’d ordered still another spare loaf, de jure.
This one had been for Dragon to find, so he wouldn’t look for the one hidden, for me. 
You see, I’m crafty, too! And I know, a BIG Dragon needs, a loaf or two or three.


Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014


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The Death Of Marie Antoinette

 THE DEATH OF MARIE ANTOINETTE
 (MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE)
Songwriters set their words about her style
and artists make pursuit to paint her smile
but all the light that's Paris, shows,
her heart and soul to only those
who come to fall in love for just while.

But knowing this, my wondering still lies
as I recall Marie, her face,her eyes,
and she is just a memory
though what I'd have to always be,
if time was mine and not a thing that flies.

I trace my blood and line of ancestry
down through some troubled times of history
or is it that I've journeyed long
from when my life went all so wrong
but it's so far removed, my mind can't see?

These questions rake my mind and leave me cold,
Am I my father who's still growing old;
and who is she, to go away
to deju vu--to yesterday,
or has she layed our love to times' unfold?

I guess I'll find her on Champs Elysees,
or in the Champ de Mars, where children play
or where one day the guillotine
cut life away, and cut it clean,
but this is now, and that was yesterday.

O! I would lay my neck under the blade;
if there would ever be a diff'rence made
to end the pain she left in me
and stop the love for my Marie
but love--this love for her can never fade.

And so, as other loves they come and go,
as Paris says, and Paris makes it so,
I wait and wander by the Seine
but know not where, and know not when,
for love of my Marie, she'll come, I know.
© RON WILSON aka vee bdosa


Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2012


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The Great Pretender

In less than 12 hours I will be starting a new job. The first job I've had other than working for myself doing remodeling for years. Ever since I fell off a roof breaking my hip in two places and hyper extending my right shoulder. I tell you this not because I want sympathy. A prayer might be nice though. Yes a prayer would be great. I tell you this because I am absolutely terrified. Afraid I'll fail. I won't be able to cut it. Yet I went through the entire application process and drug screen and every thing else involved. And it took until right now for the doubt and fear to set in. This writing is different than anything I've ever done and I doubt there's anything poetic about it.

But I needed to tell someone. And I hoped it could be you.


The Great Pretender

I pretend that I am strong
when weak is what I am.
I pretend I have no fear
when fear is all I know.

I pretend that I am laughing
when I only want to cry.
I pretend I'm having fun 
when I wish there was someplace to hide.

I pretend that you don't know
when I can sense you do.
But still I don't pretend for me
I pretend so you don't feel bad for me.

I am the great pretender!

I don't want to be alone
but I don't want you in my pain.
I may need your help
but that doesn't make me want it.

I pretend I am proud and dignified
when both of those things left me long ago.
I pretend that I'm not broken
but I can't or maybe I won't hide it from me.

I am the great pretender!

I pretend everything is going to work out
and that I am holding it together.
I pretend that you can't see
But I don't believe it.

I pretend I'm not withdrawn
while I hide in the shadows.
I pretend that I'm not frightened
but I am. I am afraid.

I am the great pretender!

I pretend I know I can tell you anything
but I can't tell you everything.
Because what if I did?
What if I told you everything?

Then you would know
and you would be like me.
You would confuse what I told you with what you think you know and then. And then we'd both be pretending. And then maybe someday you would pretend better than me but then you would be the great pretender and I would be lost again. Left to only pretend I'm pretending.

No. I think it best if we just keep it real and let me go on pretending.

Because I am the great pretender.

ECH


Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015