Best Do It Poems
It had been a long night, an hour drive just to be with my sister. One must stay in touch with family; it’s the right thing to do. I don't even know what movie we saw. Here she was again in all her glory whining, and whimpering, about her conditions. Confined space is the wrong place to be with someone bi-polar. Sometimes, I think the family should mark her eruptions on a calendar, maybe there’s a pattern? She was hungry; her blood sugar was low; hurry, get her home!
“Geez Sis, if my life depended on carrying peanuts, I'd make damn sure I had them with me!” I my replied.
the sleet fell
through the headlight beams:
fog inside
“You bleeping self-centered witch!” Her reply.
And on and on, enumerating all my faults at the top of her lungs. Her face was darting back and forth across the stick shift like a viper. The weather was so bad, and her screaming so loud; I almost drove us up a telephone pole. The back road to her house was serpentine through a pinewood, and over narrow, slick, bridges. Well, about fifteen minutes into my dissection, I burst a gut.
“You need to have some control. Your diet is horrible. I wish you could see yourself eating. Your plate might as well be a trough.” There now I’ve gone and done it, I thought to myself. The little devil in me was all smiles. When we pulled into the driveway; she leapt out.
the car door
slams rattling the glass:
eyes wet as rain glass
It only felt good for a moment. It was true; she did deserve the comment. She’d felt free to butcher me, but, it was wrong to try to hurt her. The momentary release, which felt so good, has given us months of anguish.
Published in Dead Snakes Magazine Winter 2014
Roll back the joy of golden, painted years.
Hold me in that rapture, of joyful cascading tears.
Place the engagement ring on my soft hand.
Allow me to hear the notes of passion’s band.
Oh, how deeply in love in the City by the Bay we were!
Then~abruptly dismissed by Cupid’s, stinging, sharp spur!
That glorious moment though, outlives the painful march of time.
When I was wholly yours, on love’s, long, enchanting, cascading vine!
8/27/2022
~1~
How might you feel if you chose life that strayed away from discontent?
I wonder, would you smile awhile or hatch new schemes to circumvent?
Do you believe we have the choice to “live!” despite our circumstance,
and love our lives through thick and thin; even in our sadness, choose to dance?
Would you deem it possible to find sweet blessing through the pain;
conceive that with our every breath, we may find hope to thrive again?
Might you choose a path that suits you better than the one before;
consider change; rearrange one piece to open unseen doors?
Could you imagine, would you
imagine
just for laughs or on a dare;
can you picture
everything
within your grasp?
Pull up a chair!!
Now, listen up, and listen good ~
This life awaits; it calls for you!
Now grab it with those filthy paws,
and show us all that you can do!
Go for it !!
*Slightly edited since posting... an old piece that really needed it. Thank you for your patience :)
You have written and submitted poems galore.
Your work gathers comments from others by the score.
Carolyn, you have acquired so much popularity.
I can see you are quite adept at poetry.
It’s amazing how you have made so many friends.
Your fabulous writing seemingly never ends.
I enjoy reading your wonderful presentations on this site.
May you continue to be here every day and night.
Quote.( Do not know who originated it, but used in the family at all times.)
"If your going to do something do it properly"
There was an old man called McGinn
Put all his refuse waste in one bin
It should have been sorted
His reasoning is thwarted
In clearing up his mess to begin.
Penned 3 May 2015
This recently happened to me.
I didn’t recover very well from it.
I just sat there
naked,
embarrassed,
while
while my partner got dressed
and walked out on me.
She was shaking her head
in disbelief on the way out.
Here is what happened.
We are in the throes of
mad
passionate
love making.
I am twisted up like a pretzel
with my tongue here,
my fingers there,
really excited,
in fact
my
you know what
was harder
than Chinese mathematics.
I mean my tongue is doing a Spanish Tango
my fingers the Watusi
my center an African Tribal Dance
and when I say African Tribal Dance
I mean my ass
is shaking like a belly dancer
with a vibrator up her ass.
I could hear that sharp female voice
yelling like a soprano in an Italian Opera
and she’s yelling too
but with that deep voice of hers
like a banshee out of hell.
Oh no, oh no,
oh yes oh yes,
oh oh oh oh...
then suddenly
like fireworks on the fourth of July
boom...boom, boom, boom, boom...
she goes.
Then
I do it
at the peak of ******
I do it.
I really blow it.
No pun intended.
Instead of...
I mean we've all done it...
instead of saying her name
At the peak of ******
I yell out
my own name!
09~11~2014
Knuckle Head Yvonne
If I'm not normal should I conform
and seek to perform as all do
or should I reach to perfect my form
and be how I was born true
There's safety in numbers
but this one wonders
if one mind wanders
walks afar in sunder
while others slumber
standing to ponder
previous blunders
could the one that wanders
understand wonders
give back to numbers
who will then wander
beyond to yonder
as those once stunners
become common runners
out of the box thinking stuns some numb,
it's a heavy weight knockout they come undone
for others to have thoughts you wrestle is fun
a combination they shuffle like a champion
commoners thoughts pace up and down
the same sites with the same sounds
facing lows and heights on the same grounds
hoping to sight delights unfound
but it's not how I do as I venture out on random paths
the way untraveled collect clues bits quarters make halves
with half an idea plough through though told it's daft
until I announce I've something new which stops laughs
so should I conform against my nature
work to reform and advance my stature
live untrue to me as though an actor
allow only unnatural attributes to factor
why misplace and waste so it's untraced
and put in its place the common taste
when I could embrace what can't be replaced
and chase it and ace with my victory face
POTD 9/7/2019
Yes, Let's Do it. Election Insanity.
....................
Yes! Let us have all felons vote!
Better yet, let's muddy the "Swamp"
Have known killers run for Congress.
Perhaps, even be our President.
Indeed, the Americans have gone looney.
Must be chugging down really cheap wine.
Or smoking tons of powerful Ganga.
Don't forget the OxyContin...Whooh!
Let's believe those who work are evil.
Pit them against those who will not.
A typical Communist famous card trick,
Played by Commie crooks.
Let's knock over every statue of those who
made America great,
And replace them with un-American ingrates.
Let's replace them with killer rappers,too
Or female singers on TV, who love to
flash their woo-hoos!
And a special garden so inspired,
Dedicated to disgusting race-batters, too?
And a special duo needs one, also
Stormy Daniels and Avenatti, a dude so
falso!
The newest one to Jussie Smolett,
all made in gold.
Hope that idea. Leaves you cold!
Why heck! We took God out of schools.
Then like refards,we complain ,they don't
know the Golden rule.
No, they don't..you removed a basic tool.
And to salute the flag? Oh, no, they won't!
Flags are to be stomped on and for the
Burning?
All this sets my stomach churning.
In recent years, our government wanted
Their spies in churches.
Yes your ministers are evil don't you know?
But into a mosque, the FBI may not go.
Christians are a dangerous breed!
Really? Yes, so say all the druggies high on
speed.
This is my brief peek as what's coming down
the pike.
I find it all dismaying and not at all right.
Panagiota Romios
4/23/2019
3:2m PST
Mix the meters
Color the cadence
Intermingle the breaks of line
Torture the iambs
Scent the flowers
Tint the edges of sunrise
Mellow the moonbeams
Offer an invitation
A subtle “come hither”
Of mystery
Slowly close the door
As you are drawn
Into inky shadows
Left alone
To fathom
The cut, fit and drape
Of garments
Woven with words
Stitched with secrets
John G. Lawless
©5/4/2023
I have survived trauma, Cancer, Lyme disease, Head Traumas,
Many surgeries, bowel obstruction and infection
For those with health issues, life can really hit rock bottom
Pain can be unbearable and also be ongoing
Near death experiences are as scary as can be
But, I tell you this because you can heal and you can survive
You can find ways to get through the pain
You can adapt however possible to still do what you love to do
Never give up what you believe in, no matter what
You can still create to get through things
You can still write, as much as you can
It is never easy, but it is in fact possible
To keep dreaming, to keep trying, to keep fighting
To be all you can be with whatever you are faced
You may feel stuck, but just not there yet and I testify
---- You CAN do it ---
Heidi Sands
5/7/18
You have to know he is near, you have to know he is around
Perhaps sensing it in your fear or the feeling of being bound
You never know what he will do or what other things he'll try
But he's out to destroy you because he wants your soul to die
Again and again he'll attack seeking the easiest point of entry
Knowing all you lack helps in the defeating of one that's free
You walk around unprotected and don't even seem to care
The King of Kings you neglected and of this, he is aware
Why change what is finished, why push them God's Way
So the attacks diminish in just letting you have your say
Things go pretty well theres no need to call for God's Hand
Soon you can't even tell what you can't even begin to understand
The one who seeks to destroy you is finally on your side
And on you he sort of grew right along with your pride
he is sifting you like wheat but all this you can't see
So versed in deciept you don't realize you're not free
Luke 22: 31
“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you,
that he might sift you like wheat,
When sucked into a novel,
What I think, as I glide through it,
Is how, oh how, I’d love to ask,
How did the author do it?
Creating all the characters
And scenes, like someone drew it,
It’s hard to wrap my mind around –
How did that writer do it?
The tricks within the story line,
The clues we’d not intuit,
Are so amazing I am stumped –
However did she do it?
The finished product, like a gift,
When critics did review it,
Deserved each glowing accolade –
Oh man, how did she do it?
If writers share a secret code,
I really wish I knew it,
‘Cause I would write a novel, too,
If I knew how to do it!
(I'm reading Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn)
Your fingers play a tune
Only my body can dance to
Your lips emit a craze
Only my lips can answer to
Your heart pulls the strings
Only my heart can respond to
Play the tune, so that my body can dance,
Emit the craze, that my lips can answer,
Pull the strings so my heart can respond…
I don’t care how you do it, just do it for me...
I wonder if fate had me pegged all along life’s path. My sagging smile and breasts, still lifting though depressed. My husband and I adapt to the grandparent role, understanding only now the heavy hearts of our own grandparents. The fate of the aged is fine wine, elephant wrinkles, forgetfulness and dying relatives and friends.
On the lighter side, I remember Laugh Ins’ fickle finger of fate. Now it’s pointing at me. The other day, when I walked down the stairs, with creaky knees and ankles, I told myself, “walk like a twenty year old,” then again as I became unbalanced, “fall like a fifty year old.” And there you have it - all the joy, wisdom and heartiness of late.
6/25/2018
When you are young do it all.
Every single thing you ever dreamed of doing.
Because when you are older
The inclination is there, but the knees are not.
The teeth are crumbling.
The back wants to sleep.
Seize your opportunities.
Let no one talk you out of them.
Limit yourself to no one.
Give yourself to no one.
Keep yourself young and free and do it all.
After that you can worry about love.