Best Dish Out Poems
Armadilly came galloping into Troll Lake, bent on seeking a new life, to unwind.
He’d rode out of the Badlands, leaving only a trail of blowing dust and leaves, behind.
His steady stead Jalopy had been pounding feet, relentlessly with powerful strides.
Rearing up, Armadilly stopped before our Troll Bridge with his slingshot at his side.
I could see, he rode the sleekest mount, and the biggest tortoise, that I had ever seen.
Man that armadillo knew his tortoise flesh… this was the fastest one, ever been!
I would say: he truly looked, the devil’s mount… with glowing, fire stocked eyes.
The stranger named himself as Armadilly, but his true identity, could not be denied.
He was really Armadilly Billy, The Slingshot Kidster, as he bowed to us, so very low.
With a yes Ma'am, and a no Sir, he was smooth and could charm, near any old soul.
The Trolls loved him for the spell binding stories, that at the campfire, he gave away.
He never talked about his past, but we knew who he was, without being told, that day.
The rumor had it that Sheriff Bunny Garret had shot him dead, on one fateful day.
Another said he’d faked his death, heading south to Mexico, his life to live away.
But we knew better, for he was here with us, right now, on this illustrious day.
We knew he was a kind and misunderstood guy, because of what I’m about to say.
He saved our squirrel, Funkundilly, from a hawk diving straight for her, inward bound.
With his slingshot, like streaked lightening, he forced the hawk to spiral to the ground.
And we all applauded that Funkundilly was now, once again, so very safe and sound.
Then he strode, spurs a jangling, to dish out his own type of justice, so very renowned.
With a steely glint in his eye, he ordered the hawk away, or meet his end, he did convey.
And you can say that frightened bully hawk, really high tailed it, as he ran away.
Everyone celebrated that night, with Armadilly, all the way to dawn’s embrace.
Before he left, Armadilly knew from then on, he’d always have a home in this place.
But his mind was set on a wandering, more of this world’s adventures, to unweave.
So with a HiHo! Jalopy! He took off, leaving in another cloud of dust and leaves.
But I heard him shout that he’d be back again, soon…
And we were sure, that’s just what he would do!
Inspired by Silly Billy the Kidster's--- Billy the Kid Blog
An epic poem by Carol Eastman
1) Treat others the way you'd have them treat you.
Whatever you dish out comes right back at you.
2) Don't talk about what you don't know first hand,
And keep most that you know to yourself, contraband.
3) Don't take another into confidence,
Most gossip is spread through this type of pretense.
4) When you DO one a favor, it's a GIFT that you GAVE.
When you GET a favor, it's a DEBT to be PAID.
5) Your children won't listen to what you have to say.
They'll watch what you do and then they'll live that way.
6) Children don't do what you tell them to do.
They watch your actions and learn them from you.
7) Remember that neighbors watch people, it's true.
If they're watching others, they're watching you too.
8) Don't expect more of others than you're willing to give.
Remember these words, it's a good way to live.
9) Don't do anything that could be questioned later.
Don't do what you don't want to read in the paper.
10) Never hang out with a questionable crowd.
What they do in secret will be broadcast out loud.
11) In questions of will or questions of won't,
Remember this well, if there's doubt, then don't.
I hope that these words give you pause, give you thought,
And I hope they're remembered more often than not.
It's really no more than just good common sense,
Read you Bible and pray and stay away from pretense.
. *ANDREA D.*
. Happy Birthday
. 9/5/??
To the most wonderful poet on poetry soup
Enjoying everyone, no matter their age group
I bring to you September 5th Birthday scoop
Andrea D, you're classic like Miss Betty Boop
Unstoppable poetry hula hoop
I desire to take this time to dish out a cute birthday rhyme
Relax, enjoy the glitter & streamers - as if sipping fine wine
All candles points to you, like Uncle Sam
Don't mind me expressing myself like Sam I am!
Would you!" Could you!" Have yourself a Birth Day Jam!
This is the part where my mini spam-in gets cute
I wish you the best birthday sending you a salute
Birthday cake made made out of forbidden fruit
Straw-burst candy and smiles for everyone
Celebrate the day you were born wearing your birthday suit
Enjoy your day, as if you won a shopping spree
Enjoy your day, full of birthday potpourri
Enjoy your day, with your friends and family
Enjoy your day, with sweetness like honey from a bee
Better yet Andrea D
HAPPY! Happy Birth Day To You, ANDREA D!
Wishing you the best, a birthday can bring
Rising to the birthday song, our beautiful Birthday Queen
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDREA, FROM ALL of us HERE at THE SOUP!
By: P.D.
Shivery is not dead!
My love I am happy to know
that shivery is not dead for you
and I.
In today’s society young
mothers and fathers have a
tendency to not teach their
children shivery, leaving it to
die out. But I write this poem in
such few words knowing it will
make an impact once it’s read
to have individuals to discuss
what shivery really is and how
it’s connected to our savior.
Reciprocation
When we go to the car and you
open my door and then I open
your door for you
When I dish out the dinner and
you feed me
When I cook the dinner and
you wash the dishes
When we sit down in a
restaurant and when I get up,
you stand
When we take a walk and we
hold each others hand
When I wash the clothes and
you fold them
When I want to sit down you
pull out my chair
For only if we teach our
children to understand that the
spirit of savior resides within
us. Therefore we should love
each other and treat each other
the same, as our lord and
savior loves us! From what I
read our savior is not bias. He
rains on the just and the
unjust.
Form:
Come, shovel
splinter my hands
let me feel even an iota of pain
for I am forever in
denial
it seems
Come, shovel
let my bare foot
push you deeper
until I bleed
so I can face this
reality
in front of me
dig
dig
dig
...ditch
and dish out
all that dirt
make that hole
big
big
big
...breach
and break out
all that brine,
all that whine
then let me fall
deep
deep
deep
d
e
e
p
eep.
Come, shovel
bury me whole,
cover me
in peace
Let, me, be, number,
let, me, escape,
in
mindless slumber.
even just for two days.
41920161208a23: Come, Shovel
A vengeful eye for an eye
but mind you, to avenge yourself
ain't easy as apple pie
Indeed a punch for a punch
or invite your foe
for a delicious
malicious lunch
to dish out nasty retribution,
yet revenge is a dish
best served cold!
But a tooth for a tooth
will it actually soothe?
A horrid scowl for an irate pout
you scream coz she did shout!
Ah, that biting desire for sweet revenge
On the mind it can bitterly scavenge!
Sweet it might seem, sweet at first feel
but it's really more sour than an orange peel.
Then there's the danger of meting out in excess
There's a need to don self-control's harness.
One may try to spread retaliation evenly
on the slice of his arch enemy
Rat-a-tat tat on his door
for some payback tit for tat?
To chuck out all plots and thoughts of seething revenge
poses for man at times the greatest challenge.
Is it then so natural for this human brat
to cherish and relish a tit for tat?
But if so many of your chores complain of your negligence
you might as well put off too, all desire for vengeance.
Any wish for poetic justice, spit it out in poetry
Harbor no yearnings for getting even
except maybe in virtual reality.
Ah, alas as Jesus's humble way to offer the other cheek
is for ordinary man perhaps a task too docile and meek.
The will shall supplement my fitness,
categorize my songs,
and ejaculate a witness!
He shall shuttle our smiles through the day,
complicate our wrongs,
and dish out the bongs,
sing along with songs,
in rooms of grape with walls of shakes,
tomb smoke and tokens-
taken in by notes,
domes inside zones,
landscaping Vogue-
no real reason to pose unless you are gold.
There, parked in rows
like overused commas
or German prose
or mothballed bombers
lay ranks of rats
as if on drill,
but quite as dead
as vaudeville.
Someone had slit
each ventral hide
and pulled it back
to peek inside.
And there they lay,
flat on their backs,
guts on display,
paws pinned by tacks.
Ashamed, they were,
like party-crashers,
with gaping fur,
like little flashers.
Those organs, packed
so coral-fine,
would soon be hacked
by Class B-9.
Unseeing eyes
stared at the ceiling,
but woke in me
a fellow-feeling.
We’re all the same.
We want to live.
Why dish out blame?
Why bring a sieve,
sort sheep from goats,
grandly decide
who lives and dies?
To my distress,
those little guys
with upturned throats
and parted coats
were nothing less
than crucified.
Let the stream of cash in, flood-gate
Like the Casino, I'll keep chips in your plate
Big-ballin', throw it in the pot, high stakes
Don't sleep, keep watch for fakes and snakes
So much dead pres' to burn, it's a crime
Surprised I ain't in the Feds, doing hard time
Forget 'bout Simon, do what the money says
I dish-out money, like candy from a Pez
Dispenser, destined to do this since I was born
I make it rain, you can't weather this storm
All these accounts, my name should be Fill-More-Banks
I keep the cash secure, it wouldn't be safer in tanks
Fast money, accountant, lost track of how much I earn
The money's wind to my sail, it controls where I turn
I'm eating right now, stack the money like pancakes
You know I love beef, put everything up for stakes
Eating up these problems, got me puttin' on some pounds
BS walk, money talk, you tell me how that sounds?
Hold-up, freeze, don't nothing move but the money
You can't afford to pay attention--it's free, dummy!
Class is in, cash the topic, you failed, watch and learn
Set the city on fire, cremated, get it a urn
A Childs Eyes
A little boy in underwear,
he's only eight years old.
Hiding there behind the chair
he can't feel the cold.
Hiding from the monster
in the corner on the floor.
Wishing he would go away
and not come here no more.
He's not dreaming mommy's screaming
he begins to beg.
Filled with fears still it's not tears
that's running down his leg.
Hiding there words fill the air
he hears his mommies cries.
Memories of yesterdays
seen through a childs eyes.
Just a little while ago
they're sitting there just eating.
Then the monster came again
to dish out one more beating.
Looking back her eyes both black,
her friends say it's a shame.
If they just knew bad dreams come true
as she calls out his name.
Frozen in the fear he feels
love is all just lies.
Torn apart a broken heart
seen through a childs eyes.
9-1-2015
Life can dish out horrible fates,
which makes its victims feel
listless and filled with hate,
All hopes for the future gets tossed
to the side, so the spurned can
nurse their bruised egos and pride,
The only way to survive, is to make
all the bad demons go away,
A suicide pact sometimes seems
like the only option to save the day,
But, we forget that God has a plan,
In a magician's fashion he makes us
botch all our attempts, because he knows
our lives are meant for greater things,
too valuable to be taken before he comes for us.
No more suprises now christmas holds,
As day by day I’m growing old.
This I wish to confess,
Now christmas makes me pretty depressed.
I was fond of natural yule tree,
But now my grandchildren pick it from online for discount or free.
Within a seconds the remote control automatically decorates,
I fairly don’t admire this and just artlessly hate.
Even the presents are now pre-ordered,
As to make it a cinch for Santa to dish out them across the boders.
Santa has become freaky and kooky too,
He wears a glinting red coat with a sunglass blue.
Now he doesn’t ride on a sleigh,
But drives the latest fancy ferrari on each christmas day.
Guess who is the driver Dasher, Dancer, Prancer nor Vixen,
Comet ,Cupid, Donner, Oh yes its Blitzen.
Rudolph with other reindeers roaring in a hike,
Follows the car with their speedy bikes.
Now no more he says ho ho ho!
Rather heigh ho, heigh ho, heigh ho.
Santa arrives with a rocking radio beat,
For me its time to snooze when all meet him and greet.
Well yes it still snows,
But its colour keeps changing and even it glows.
Remember the old christmas tree,
Sitting around it with gifts and glee.
Once the gifts used to lay below,
But now in the air it floats and flow.
Sorry if I sound a bit rude,
But now its time to go and atleast cheerish the food.
Bye bye the age old X-mas.
Albiet its 2060, but still we wish Merry Christmas.
12/12/2015
A FUTURISTIC CHRISTMAS- POETRY CONTEST
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose
Is it wrong that the kind I like
Is tall dark and handsome
Am I too high in my standards
I mean really their not standards
Their just a summary of many boy friends
and crushes
All worthy of crowns
For their fine selves
I like em dark
Nice smiles
Dressing to kill
basketball stars
Able to keep up with my intelligence
and still keep it real hood
I love them funny
Comedian style
Muscular and in shape
Sweet and confident
Pretty much that category
Am I to shallow?
Or to demanding?
Are my standards to high?
You don't think I can find a man
Like that?
Well don't tell the world
But I've found a spot where
all they dish out is the absolute
Best
I'm in heaven so I guess my standards
Have to be high
It's just what i'm used to
Please don't get mad
I am a cat
© 2012 By Julie Dunkley
I am a cat who purrs like that
I purr as I wash my paws
I roll about on the floor
Scratching my back on the floor
Scratching my fleas where I please
I am a feline cat if you please
Ssss if you cross my path
You'd better let me sit on your lap or else
I will scratch the floor
Let me sleep on the rug
Infront of the fire nice and snug
Then you can dish out my grub
Chicken and gy I like the best
I sit licking my chops as
The smell floats past in the air
Munch, munch
Chop, chop
Slop, slop
As I lick my chops
Mm this tasteful best
Ups dropped a bit on the floor
Got to get it up with my paw
Meow I need a drink
That will fill in a little gap, I think
Now it's time to have a proper wash
So I'm nice and clean
When I have my sleep
Count your friends
When it’s dark and gloomy
When the clouds are gray and smoky
When the storms are heavier than normal- count your friends.
Count your friends
When depression has taken over you
When your back is numb and your demeanor has fallen
When the light on your path has gone off and you’re left with no way out- count your friends.
Count you friends
When your image has fail
When your personality no longer matters
Not when the money is like waters.
Count your friends
When you have nothing to offer
Not when it is surplus to dish out.
Know me today, not tomorrow
Know me when I’m poor, not when I’m rich
Cause there is no second chance for selfish friends.