Best Dob Poems
I am a 3
Revealed from heaven,
My three dances atop ten,
Numerology!
Haiku- 5/7/5 on destiny no.
For Andrea's contest 'Tell me your number'
Path no- 6
Destiny no- 3
Dob- 3/3/1968
Awarded 4th place win
I am an extraordinary dairy man,
I really give that milk a shake,
I whir it on my mixer,
I think you should partake.
I have such scrumptious flavours,
I'll put a dob of ice-cream in,
Your taste buds will go ballistic,
Just as soon as you begin.
There you go, drink it up,
Well, what did you think of that?
I think it tastes so very nice,
But, will it make me fat?
-more poems like this can can be found at:
kidscomedypoetry.com.au
In the end, it was the numbers that did us in.?
They lined us up into military rows and assigned us all numbers?
One after one after one after one after one….?
How many, nobody knows.?
You see, it’s a numbers game, it’s all the same
You’re not to blame, you’re not your name, you’re your numbers.?
Let me explain how it’s done, and how this game can never be won.
See, there are good numbers and bad numbers?
High numbers and sad numbers.?
Sometimes high numbers are good and low numbers are bad.?
And sometimes low numbers are good and high numbers are sad.?
It all depends on who is doing the counting.?
Not the numbers, they’re just numbers after all; ?
They can count on each other just not you or me
Because we are never free?
Of Big Numbers and small numbers,?
Negative numbers and imaginary numbers,?
You see, it’s a numbers game, it’s all the same, you’re not to blame,?
You’re just not your name, you’re your numbers.?
Let me explain how it’s done and how this game can never be won.
Prisoner number…Credit Score number…GPA number…SAT Number…Zip code number…Blood pressure number…Heart rate number…DOB & TOD numbers…House number…Phone number…Electricity number…Room number…Water number…Dog tags number…SocialSecurity number…Bank account number…Table number……Flight number…Apartment number…License number…Vehicle registration number…Alcohol level number…Height, weight and age get numbers
I hear you scream:?“I’m not a number, I’m a human being!!
”?Sure you are, now take a number, ?
It’s for your own protection, there’s safety in numbers.
Numbers can answer all of your questions:?
How far, how long, how deep, how high, how many,
?How often? Just not ‘how come’??
Anyone can count, but you can’t count on anyone.?
See, it’s a numbers game that can’t be won?
It’s a numbers game; it’s just how it’s done.
?It’s all the same, you’re not to blame…you’re not insane!
You’re just not your name, you’re your numbers.?
Now count to ten and start all over again.
Call it condemnation or appraisal ,
It is far from it ;
I write from the bottom of my heart…
Full of sorrows and pain ,
That the world that I cherish and care for…
Is no longer safe and habitable .
Blood is being shed on daily basis..
Killings….for money ,for pride ,for power and for religion.
Caution and tolerance thrown into the winds ,
As a kid ,we had no burglary on our doors and windows ,
We can sleep outside and inside with doors opened ,
But don’t try it now!...You will regret it .
Our environment..free from pollution and rubbish ;
Diseases are minimal and less rampant ;
Presence of abundant natural food with less preservatives ;
But now !food are being chemicallized …
Do I hear technology or advancement ? oh,no!
I must be hallucinating…. advancement in destruction ,
In diseases-cancer of this …cancer of that…AIDS ;EBOLA ,etc
What a beautiful world..or am I being sarcastic ?
A world of improved crimes that refused to sublime….
Tax evaded…money embezzled ...funds meant for the poor diverted…
Leaders full of deceit…cyber mess ;political quagmire…
egoism the order of the day..
real love dwell in the past; as divorce rate rises to the top
and soon…very soon license will be given to people to wed animals….
I mean lower animals ;
Union between a woman and a dog ;a horse and a man ,
Come to think of it ,are we not all animals?
I have belly pain ,I need to retire to my bed ,
May be when I awake ,I will see a new world .
DOB:25th of march,1968
There were no wise men come to see
No king to charge a death decree
No guiding light
No silent night
No precious gifts or subsidies
There was some help, an old sawbones
A nice warm bed away from home
No family friends
Just next of kin
Good news went out by telephone
A Leo child not Capricorn
No world to save when I was born
Rejoice with joy
New baby boy
In mother's arms all safe and warm
Today's the day my mom gave birth
The day she put me on this earth
To do my best
Accept no less
To walk upright and have some worth
8/13/2016
DOB 8/13/57
He walked with a swagger,
a delinquent lagger and recidivist wagger
all his schoolboy days.
Joyridin on the Pare’ bus
he’d skylark and cuss just like one of us
as was his way always.
He was undeniably cool
but did piss off at school and play the fool
from bell to ringin bell.
Widely well liked as a peer
and but for the odd jeer had nothin to fear
but many a tale to tell.
He oft sat ready in class
but mostly half ar-se and exams barely pass
and interest feign.
Almost always in a scrape
lookin to mock or ape or some dare or jape
and felt a swingin cane.
He did the flyin fox fling
and legs and arms cling on the rope swing
with collidin force.
For dear life hands hangin,
blokes fallin and clangin into bodies bangin
on the Confidence Course.
He was a hurler of eggs
and till someone begs did charlie their legs
but it was all in fun.
A water bomb he’d let fly
when he’d up on high ambush a passer-by
abscondin on the run.
He under the gym below
with his friends in tow did hide and stow
lest they all be found.
Then one guy in the loop
dived through a hoop and the rest swoop
should it fall down.
He at lunch hour stood
all dutiful and good but not as he should
policin the tuck shop.
As monitor it was his job
to calm the unruly mob but not tell or dob
suckin on his lollipop.
He climbed out on a limb
and broke into the gym lettin his friends in
loadin up the bar.
Squattin and pressin away
liftin in the weight bay till fun and horseplay
went a step too far.
He was a classroom pest
out of uniform dressed on his own quest
and always in strife.
But in his heart he knew
what he needed to do lest bedlam ensue
and his foolin run rife.
He was a master pranker,
some say a wanker but he did hanker
for somethin more.
Girls thought him sweet
and fell at his feet goin crazy for Skeet
but his spell had no cure.
Written: February 2018
I turned over the channel
to come in on the end
of a documentary
Islam a chant flowing
through the town
we hate america
we hate the jews
it was like a football match
where you're chanting
for opposing sides
yet evil grows from ideas
a city taught to hate
the anger and the strength
radiating from the face of a youth
a child growing on the path of revenge
reminded me of the hitler youth
taught to dob in the parents
reminded me of the raised arms
to Hitler when he trained his people
for war
the world stood back
and watched as he attacked
the country's surrounding him
society to the left stood back
not wanting war
yet the thought
went through my mind
a whole country like that
how do you stop it
how do you stand against a tide
I sat a table with different people
some old some young
The young people came
from that area
complaining of the past
complaining of a story
A blond girl had been
promised to a sheik
promised to one
but given to another
The young people
said with anger
that caused a war
between the two sheiks
The young people indignant
were angry against the injustice
yet the elderly stated thats good war
use your enemies to fight each other
Ideas are like a seed
they start in one man
and grow to become a nation
I hate war
It would be better if people
would decide to live in peace
to forgive the past
yet sometimes people are fools
If a man throws a fist
I'm not going
to stand their and take it
I would throw a fist back
Nobody wins from the wars
England is still paying for the cost
of the second world war
America has already taken on
twenty trillion dollars of debt
thousands of Muslims have lost
children arms legs and lives
nobodys wins from the wars
all are just fools
going around on a circle of pain
fools hurting each other
with no end in sight
Grenade (The McDonald's Version)
-Please note some things/words may not make sense to somebody who has not worked at McDonald's :)
Dump dump dump and salt, that is all I do
Fill the fry hopper and make salty fries for you
Should of known you was trouble when the fries were up
Had the salt shaker open, why was it open?
Gave you all my fries and you tossed them in the bag
You tossed them in the bag, you did
To give me all your thanks, is all I ever asked
Coz what you don't understand is
CHORUS
I catch a french fry for you
Burn myself in the eye for you
I'd throw myself in the vat for you
You know I'd even get fat for you
I would go through all this pain
Put a deli knife through my brain
Yes I would fry for you baby
But you won't do the same
No, no, no, no
Gold, gold, gold and crisp, make them till I'm numb
To the spot-sweep I said hey, where the **** did you come from
Mad worker, bad worker, that's just what you are, yeah
You'll smile in my face then dob me in for my car
Gave you all my fries and you tossed them in the bag
You tossed them in the bag, you did
To give me all your thanks, is all I ever asked
Coz what you don't understand is
CHORUS
I catch a french fry for you
Burn myself in the eye for you
I'd throw myself in the vat for you
You know I'd even get fat for you
I would go through all this pain
Put a deli knife through my brain
Yes I would fry for you baby
But you won't do the same
No, no, no, no
If the vat was on fire
Ooh, you'd watch it burn down in flames
You said you loved fries, you're a liar
Coz you never, ever, ever did baby
CHORUS
But darling I''d still catch a french fry for you
Burn myself in the eye for you
I'd throw myself in the vat for you
You know I'd even get fat for you
I would go through all this pain
Put a deli knife through my brain
Yes I would fry for you baby
But you won't do the same
No, no, no, no
No, you won't do the same
You wouldn't do the same
Ooh, you never do the same
No, no, no, no
Carol Brown
Contest Name My First Car
Vanguard ute
I got meself a motor car,
a little ute, a Vanguard,
I was seventeen, yes sah,
low flying and sliding here and there,
Me an brother Mark were a going fishing,
At 75 miles an hour, I hit a hi speed bend,
Feet of water lurked in a dip, unwitting,
It did us airborne send,
Flying on a cushion of water,
Guide posts were a flashing by,
Fascinating sort of, sorta,
Slow motion with a sigh?
After 50 feet we finally touched down,
Me brother wouldn’t bloody speak
His forehead held a frown,
50 miles an hour, how neat,
No he didn’t dob me in,
Old car was still orright,
So then I took him sideways,
On a corner, not in spite.
I was young and stupid,
Much older now Kanga Roo Ted…
Young n stupid flying low,
big ol thrill 4 johnson though,
having fun an sliding so,
me mates would not come a driving:)
Which Was Outstanding
She wore a bikini so her body he could observe
Which was cute with a very vivacious curve
Wore right-sized bra so boobs would suspend
Matching her elegant body along with rear end.
With both of his eyes, he did toil and tarry
Then said one day we both should marry
(Never heard of anyone married to themselves before.)
After being taunted by her smile and terrific teeth
Wondering what lies ahead and underneath.
In bed, big breasts kept getting in the way
So what was he really supposed to say?
After his performance which was oh so fine
He wanted little old me to be his valentine.
Together, have been married for many long years
Along with great goals and hopes and fears
And even though now old she kept on demanding
My fine performance which is still outstanding.
PS. With you, this I wanted to discuss,
This was only intended to be humorous;
So my friend, why all of the fuss?
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
DOB: 26 June 1941
[email protected]
Poem written today on 19 Sep 2014
Clawed clouds descend upon us!
Like Adam so Eve.
Naked we wait…
What gods we are?
As for creation, we End.
In his image, we conceive.
Forests of masonry stand tall,
Chariots of death we ride,
What gods we are?
From the wells of Hell, we drink.
As the elixir of life sings…
Like muezzins leading prayers of the prophet.
True fountain of youth Indeed,
Youth marked by the crucifix?
Youth marked by the crescent Moon and Star?
In the garden of lost dreams, they lay.
Like martyrs of yesterday!
INRI…
DOB-DOD, MAN-BB!
True products of ignorance.
TIC! TOC! TIC! TOC!
Chronographs of death,
Counting as dreams are conceived!
What gods we are?
As dreams oxidize in our ignorance.
Flobodobba-dob? asked Bill of Ben
Dobba-flob? Ben asked Bill to repeat again
Ah!! Dobba-flobbing flobadom Bill confirmed with linguistic skill
Flobbing dobba-do dob do Ben wrote down with his Quill
Hadn't the flowerpot men heard of Google Translate
then they wouldn't have as much trouble to communicate
"Weeeeeed", "Weeeeeed" suggested their best friend little weed
but alas, the flowerpot men couldn't speak weed, so didn't take heed
Flobadobba dob dob flabba flob - they both whispered in the foyer
Dobba dobba flob - for they had come to see their lawyer
Today was an important day for both Ben and for Bill
Ben was there to witness the signing of Bill's Will
But who will inherit Bill's estate when he dies
Will the reading be full of mystery and lies
Maybe Bill actually had listened and used Google Translate indeed
for Bill's estate was all left to his friend little weed
So the morale of the story is to use Google Translate
if you want to make a deal behind the back of your mate
Bill used Google Translate to make sure he did succeed
and leave his wealth to his real best friend little weed
Queensland hero
Vain-glorious, evil too,
Little Hitler is it you,
Sacking thousands for a lie,
Poor as Spain is his cry,
But Spain owes 50 billion blue?
(We owe twenty seven and sixpenceJ)
Secret watchers dob you in,
Informers tell of your sin,
If you stop for lunch, you do,
Pimp on a Public servant, do you,
Bosses crawler, is your due!
The crawler never wins!
Legal aid gone by decree,
Pay the judge now,
money comes from thee,
Win or lose, dearer for,
The often sacked, poor bloody poor,
What will become of me…
Retarded me, pushed down the tube,
Walked all over, bloody rude,
Caravan parks sold, people dumped,
Handicapped cast out gazumped,
The homeless I include…
A thousand police he does want,
His army to fight the union,
Liberal voters to applyJ
For government or miner grooming,
Better well kept the lie?
Of peaceful time is all we need,
Persecution from the grinning weed,
Evil is as evil do,
Eye 4 eye will get you 2,
YHYW judges the deed…
Don Johnson
Pablo Naranjo Golborne / Pablo Golborne / Pablo Naranjo Nordau Neruda
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973), This poet was alive during the World Wars One and
Two. In 1943, Neruda returned to Chile, and in 1945 he was elected senator of
the Republic, also joining the Communist Party of Chile. Due to his protests
against President González Videla's repressive policy against striking miners in
1947, he had to live underground in his own country for two years until he
managed to leave in 1949. After living in different European countries he returned
home in 1952. A great deal of what he published during that period bears the
stamp of his political activities; one example is Las Uvas y el Viento (1954),
which can be regarded as the diary of Neruda's exile. In Odas elementales
(1954- 1959) his message is expanded into a more extensive description of the
world, where the objects of the hymns - things, events and relations - are duly
presented in alphabetic form. There is a disclaimer on the SSS card that says
this is NOT for identification purposes please keep your card in a safe place and
signed. Conflicting thoughts the police back home always asked me for mine
when on the road they ran it like an ID the numbers was instant on the radio. The
Students at this University take the Cat Card and swipe the strip into the slotted
door it makes it seem to me just like the Mark of the beast has come perhaps
early to some. Charles Robert Hice 429-04-1680. Deceased on May 13, 2004.
Alive and living for the return of Heaven door. Jesus oph please come back
before they institute the Mark on mee. To the purists of the poets no apology of
me this is a fabel not a poem not a rhyme intended but a short short story just to
past the thyme. My State Id Card has a PICTURE of me but no number at least
not the Dreaded Social Security Number and it does have the DOB but not
needed until called upon to produce it. Not yet on head forehand or forehead
or hand Most people will be proud to salute a nonexistent leader at the door to
every supermarket in the world the name and number of the beast becomes the
god.
I just read AOL news story- some guy found a deep fried mouse in his bag of
poato chips. Guess he's not the meat & potatos type.
I'm not real good with computers. I don't think they like me. I tried my media
player, and I think it said it needed Bufferin or something.
I called "Lawn Doctor". I got suspicious when showed up with an industrial sized
stethescope around his neck.
I tried "Bath Fitter". he came, filled up the tub, took a bath, and gave me a bill for
$200! I said "What the heck do you think you're doing?" He said he did his job,
came, checked to see if he fit in the bath. I had a fit.
When I was young, I was in a NYC suburb gang called "The Gors"- We were kind
of namby-pambee for a gang. A small troop of Cub Scouts took us out!! The out-
armed us, and put the fear of God in use. Bullies!!
If it were'nt for the Imfo button on my TV remote, I'd never have the foggiest clue
as to the date.
News has long depressed me. I never read the news papers, and I avoid any
news reports on radio or TV. But, sometimes I still wonder if the Vietnam War is
still goin' on.
True story, I shoot you not- Today to psychiatrist for evaluation- (boy did I spin his
wheels- now he needs a psychiatrist!)- well, anyway, in the application/imfo sheet
there was a comment after name, DOB, etc.- it said "sex"- I wrote in "rarely".
To Vince- consider yourself lucky- my ex-wife wanted my to take draino!!
True story- last hospital stay (so often I have my own wing now)- I stole a big red
sticker from the X-ray room that said "TRAUMA!" I wore it on my farhead for 2
days! You should see the looks!
The only thing I'm sure of now is that I'll never live long enough to learn to live.
The Sarcastic Poet
tom bell