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Best Cut The Mustard Poems | Poetry

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The Best Cut The Mustard Poems

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Just A Reminder

What does it feel like, do you feel the same Do you still have that seductive style Do you still have a soft, sweet tender young body Do you still have that come hither smile Remember it well, those many years ago Our age has surely changed us both Even if you resemble Porky Pig or Bugs Bunny No matter, I now resemble a sloth Okay, maybe that a bit of an exaggeration The Porky Pig and Bugs Bunny thing Bet you can still warble like Celine Dion Sure would like to hear my love sing “Smitten” is the word that so aptly applies To this dude with a receding hairline This elderly old duffer can still cut the mustard Can just see me as a CNN headline Okay enough is enough of this silly banter The reason I wrote this rhyme Is just a reminder that I'll love you forever And that's an extremely long time © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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Time Will Tell


My soul I will never sell
Even if I got to go through hell
Time will tell
If I'll excel
And propel
Doing poorly or swell
Wherever I dwell
Crooked or parallel from any citadel
And hotel
Are you the lion, cheetah or gazelle?

Can't afford to lack
Got to stay on track
At the drop of a hat
In the daylight or pitch black
Anywhere on the map
They can yap
And talk crap
But we'll see who has the last laugh

Onward and upward
Got to cut the mustard
Without being stubborn
No matter if I get a sunburn

With or without parachute cord
And a sword
Back to the drawing board
Still out to explore for even more
Moving toward
A place far away from the swarm
As well as any horde
Regardless of if it still gets cold and warm

Losing interest or rather adamant and passionate
Occasionally may be the devil's advocate
Among objects in motion or inanimate
Trying my best to stay afloat in ways that are adequate
On purpose this is no accident

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

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Decrepit And Mangy Old Folks

I live in an adult lifestyle community
So what exactly does that mean?
It means most residents are old farts like me
Though there's some under sixty it seems

Don't know why they've chosen this place
With us decrepit and mangy old folks
Must be because their marriage seems safe
No competition from us “over the hill” blokes

The “put out to pasture” phrase comes to mind
Our usefulness no longer is obvious
Except for baking cookies for the craft show
The reports of our value are quite dubious

Here's a fact that us old guys will attest to
Seen it all, done it all, there's no doubt
We've got a whole lifetime of experience to offer
One problem may be our bouts with the gout

I live in an adult lifestyle community
So what exactly does that mean?
Means residents can't cut the mustard anymore
Just chillin' before us guys leave the scene

© Jack Ellison 2012

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012

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Jester Runs for a Royal Seat

The Jester tumbled in
with his fancy footwork
into the castle's great hall,
raising his arms, waving to all.

He's dressed from head to toe
in humorous multi-coloured attire
and red pointed shoes.
Tied around his painted clown face,
a funny pointed red ball hat with silver bells,
ringing as he pranced.
In his hand a square bird that doesn't eat
and all it does is tweet, tweet, tweets.

His fans stand up clapping their hands,
yelling with loud cheers;
a bunch of local yokels full of ale and beer.

Then, someone calls his name in a chant,

          “Jester, Jester, Jester!”

They all join in.

The Jester said,

          “Stand up and place the outcome of the future in my hands.”

As the minstrel's play,  “This Land is Ours.”

Poor fools didn't understand.

          “Let's raise the mortal alarms,
                    and let me wear the crown.
                              I promise to build a great wall
                                        and keep all the clowns out of town."

With all the charm he could muster
for a roaring storm,
he leaps making promises he never keeps. 
He dances and prances
with a pinch and a grab to their tender form.

          “Nobody but I, deserve the crown
                    because I’m the best.
                              I’ll make everyone grovel
                                        down on their knees
                                                  and have them all kiss my royal gown.
            If I can't cut the mustard
                      and spread my seed,
                                underneath a heap, take heed.
                                          I'll fire anyone that stands in my way
                       and replace with my family and friends in royal seats, 
                                 to accomplish all off my promised feats.

                       Be warned, I am here to stay."


Not for the contest 

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2017

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Retire To Florida

Retire To Florida?

By Elton Camp

It’s for old persons with leathery skin
The refuge of every sort of has been

Doctors who can’t hear a heart beat
Butchers who no longer can cut meat

Store clerks who are too old to sell
Musicians now unable to play well

The thief grown too feeble to steal
The card shark who can’t still deal

Bikers who can’t keep a Harley straight
Now a motorized wheelchair do rate

Any who can’t cut the mustard any more
Come knock on the Sunshine State door

Where Social Security rules as king
And income, no state taxes bring

If you can withstand a hurricane, 
come to Florida and there remain

Where you get sand in your shoes
Hope that an alligator won’t choose

Or mosquitoes won’t take you away
And huge snakes you can keep at bay

Copyright © Elton Camp | Year Posted 2014

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Today I had some custard
But it didn't cut the mustard
Though I really thought that it would be the best.
Guess you can't make an assumption
Based on ice-cream loving gumption
That what looks impressive must leave you impressed.

So the next time I'll be cautious;
Though this didn't make me nauseous,
It was mediocre and not up to snuff.
A prediction's surely wasted
'Cause until your tongue has tasted
All that other information's not enough.

Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2014

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decline of rich men

The decline of rich Men. 

 The numbers of American millionaires have declined
I read this as a news item and was amused. 

I know of an old man who became a lotto millionaire 
He had a facelift, and married a young woman.

But time was only on the woman’s side and he couldn’t 
Cut the mustard…and sank into despondency.

Clutching dollar bills he went to hospital and begged
Doctors to restore his potency…they could not.

Expensive divorce, lawyers she had the best money 
Could buy, and then he as poor again.

His old wife took him in but he has to live in the dog
House, feeds him rice pudding and combs his hair.

The numbers of American millionaires have declined 
But I will not speculate on the reason why.

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2012

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Making Up My Own Mind

Morning approaches out of another sleepless night
Anticipation gathers around my bedposts come daylight

Decisions made in the dark,they fade away so fast
Was it a dream of consequences related to the past?

Should I disregard the calm I feel as I begin the day?
Maybe I will learn how to get out of my own way!

It's very good to have the strength to seek out all your choices
But not so great when all you hear are everybodys voices

Telling you this and meaning that just doesn't cut the mustard
It leaves you silently indignant and so very flustered

So just follow your voice within,find what you really need
Let the naysayers figure out you won't be taking heed

Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2011

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Dark Alliance


The alchemists of old sought transformation into gold
But today in an alliance with some modern necromancers
They have gained their fondest wish, created riches now untold
Since for every bane that’s real or hollow now they have the answer
A pill or two will solve your problem and should  really cut the mustard
Though the end result may be that it transforms your brain to custard

The secret is: the patient base  is endlessly expanding
With no diagnostic limit to the illnesses addressed
For they now invent new syndromes pharmaceuticals demanding
And print them in a book so everyone will be impressed
Repackage an old drug and then promote it as solution
To imaginary disease from psychiatrical collusion

Then if desperate at failure to subdue resistant cases
They can still resort, fall back on old tried methods to suppress
Pass a lightening bolt across the brain and neutralise all traces
Of free self determined thinking that the patient may attest
Then an ice pick in the skull will end the process of sedation
And reduce a human being to a piece of vegetation.

So as each new life is broken
There’s increasing coruscation
In the hoards these wizards cloak in
Specious science - consummation
Of that quest from days of old
To turn base metal into gold

Copyright © Geoffrey Brewer | Year Posted 2018

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Not quite forgotten habits

It used to be that most of us Chatted over the fence with our neighbour for Free
Or even climbed over for a cup of tea.
Now most chat on line or text each other for a fee.
That does not include a cup of tea. 

A letter in the post,
Was a pleasure for most,
Now if we get one it will be from a ghost,
Or a bill that will stop us from eating our toast.

It used to be that credit was hard to get,
And being debt free was a realistic target,
Now credit is hard not to get,
And being debt free is something to forget.

We didn't need to worry about what what was in our food,
As it was mainly grown in our own neighborhood,
Now what was just yummy food,
Is now classed as super food, that comes from another neighborhood,
And when we can afford this food,
We find some does not cut the mustard in our neighborhood.

Through it all we could rely on some spontaneity,
And even a little gaiety,
Now there is just monotony,
Except for the few of us who still have the habit of being quite friendly,
In a world that does not always treat us kindly.


Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2018