Best Don Poems
Billy don’t lose my number
No ones knows the darkness
Other than one who knows... the darkness
There is no snow
There is no white
Wings are clipped
There is no flight
Answers fly away in the air
Leaving the human heart in despair
Whiskey tumbles down the throat
No more am I the ambitious goat
Broken glass and twisted rope
Dusk invites my... my final cry
Love gave me peace for a while
Then love became ill as death hovered
Over caskets and flowers soon to be
Dancing with my dead thoughts in the open air
How do I say, I really do not care?
Seeking death and pain, a solace I wear
Angels greet those other than me
I, deserving of the dirt, you shall never see
The labyrinth of pain upon the graveyard paths
Many shall walk, yet not a one will be
Any angel that could take me to the sea
Drowning in pain, the knife sets me free
There was a polite llama from Peru
Who encountered a wild boar with the flu
Llama said, 'Please don your mask
If it's not too much to ask'
The boar sneered, 'I'll be hog-tied if I do'
Bronco Don Johnson and Bally Watson...
Oh they speak of Bally Watson and the Dirran boys don't laugh...
Yet they tell in whispers how his ear was shot in half...
Old Bronco Don had shot him for everyone to see...
Witnesses could not be found though the coppers asked all three...
Bally he bolted, drove fast to get away...
For a bullet had his number, safer up old Mitchell way...
Yes it was in the fifties an old soldier got a win...
Don was locked up for the night for the drunken driving sin...
Don had been to Kokoda and the Middle East war too...
He was quick on the trigger mate and never missed, they knew....
A mob had come to bash him, back in nineteen forty five...
Dons down the stairs a shooting quick, they were glad to be alive...
7 years had come and gone, Bally appeared they say...
Sent word he wanted to see old Don out the Culgoa river way...
Mark John went as backup a rifle in his hand...
Mark did cover the drovers, shoot low was the command...
Bally got no permission was told to stay away...
Just bypass the town is what old Don did say...
So Bally is known throughout the west ...
the earmark worn by him...
The Sheriff really did his best ...
To make his ear hole ring...
When you get a car door slammed on your head ?..
Broken cheek bone!...
You might get tempted to shoot a man dead ...perhaps..... ..Don Johnson
Pickles met a woman in town who complained about him saying she needed a martingale to
keep her head down . (Horsemen and women will know a martingale has a connection to the
bridle to stop a horse jerking up its head sometimes possibly smacking the rider in the
nose. Also it looks better if the horse doesn't do a Giraffe impression .) So pickles
said no missus I said you would need 2 martingales to keep your head down, one just
wouldn't do the trick.
One of the Dirranbandi characters Jack Laughton was heard to utter with a grin , how
would you like that old bat to fart on your last cup of flour?
Don’ wanna bee roun ewe noh moh.
Don’ wanna see da trajuhdee dats heded,
At yah doh.
Ewe wuz vary ahful tah mi,
God’s chile. Eye didden doyah nuttin.
’
Yah ‘sposed, tah bee ah liter rite?
Butt ya playin’ roun wit da won,
Whooz comin’ bak leyek ah,
Theef en dah nite.
Win yah ain’t treet mi rite,
Yah naglect’d dah powah uv God.
Cuz onlee wit Him ah wuz,
Ovalookin’ wat ewe wuz doin’,
Ta mi fah da harvest ,
Of God’s chirren bein’ edumacated,
Mi yah outrite hated.
Butt dats awrite God-n-eye,
Gon’ win dis feyght.
Ah wheel hav’ victuree cuz ah,
Choze ta spread luv butt ewe,
Choze ta spread mizuhree.
Don’ wanna bee roun ewe noh moh.
Don’ wanna see da trajuhdee dats heded,
At yah doh.
Ewe ramyned mi uv ol’Pharoah,
Hoo woodn’t lett God’s pipahs goh.
Ah didden wanna fase yah awl dose
Otha daze.
Butt God help’d mi leyek God help’d,
Moses speek up tah ol’Pharoah.
God tole Moses tah lett mah pipahs goh.
God telling mi ta tale yah phake Pharoah
Tah lett mi chirren’s goh.
Ah noh ah hatta bee roun ewe sum moh.
Butt itell bee worfwile,
Cuz God wantz freedom,
Fah ebbery chile.
Yah hut mi fah alil wile,
Butt we’ll bee at da prahmased lan’,
An out uv yah Egypt.
Cuz fah awl uv uz ta prospa,
Iz God’s plan.
Ansoon we won’ be roun ewe no moh.
Wheel nat laugh leyek yah didaht mi.
Win trajudee nocks aht yah doh.
Wheel helpyah cuz God,
Wantz uz awl tah bee free.
Frum dah phake phone’ powah,
Uv da enumee.
wrote 6-27-10
When first we met, in sailor town,
the slim jim chased, and I was found.
His greedy lips did hold me down.
With me, he wed, and we were bound.
But leaves did crisp and we did fall
into set ways beneath old oak.
The charm and grace did hit a wall,
so I did wink and he awoke.
He turned, placed kiss upon my lips,
with silvered practice of Don Juan.
The shadowed moon - a great eclipse.
He’s my bright sun - curtains are drawn.
Find your Don Juan in places, close.
A smile in bed - a sizzling rose.
Destroyer ~ Poet
Contest Name Gift Exchange
For Cory Long the fighter.
Just keeps a going strong,
Second published book this writer,
May the dollars follow on,
May her poetry go long,
May the love of words incite her,
Cos Ole johnson’s been an gone…
The truth hurts don't it
And it affects you qiuet a bit.
When you know that really you're the blame
When I was serious you took me for a game.
Acting like you're the victim
That's not even my custom.
Now you're going to make me show my ass
When I was trying to forget my pass.
Now I'm really upset
Things you want you don't always get.
Don't call me your husband any more
You didn't treat me like it before.
So it doesn't matter who you talk too
You,and I are through.
I don't care who you tell
In your heart you know why our marriage fail.
I do,and will always love you
How much? If you only knew!!!
All I wanted was affection from my wife
Couldn't get it so I'm moving on with my life.
I didn't want our marriage to end
But you took my words as pretend.
We will never ever be together again
These are my last words to you the end!!!
Ich have y-don al myn youth
“I have done it all my youth”
(anonymous Middle English poem)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I have done it all my youth:
Often, often, and often!
I have loved long and yearned zealously ?
And oh what grief it has brought me!
Original Middle English poem:
Ich have y-don al myn youth,
Oftë, ofte, and ofte;
Longe y-loved and yerne y-beden ?
Ful dere it is y-bought!
Keywords/Tags: Middle English, translation, medieval, rhyme, epigram, lament, complaint, youth, love, loved, longing, longed, grief, sorrow, depression, oft, often, yearning, zeal, zealous, zealously, desire, lust, passion, yearn, yearned, yearning, long, longing, dear, dearly bought, purchased, cost, price, expense, expensive, England
?The way you dey enter my brain,
The way you dey burst my head,
Nobody don ever make me feel this way before…
Each time I dey with you,
E be like say make time no move.
Na only you this drum wey
Dey my chest dey beat for…
I don promise you before;
And I go still tell you again,
Even when tomorrow come,
Say na only you go occupy this space wey dey my heart.
Sometimes the sky no go clear,
And I know say I no go always dey around,
Because of one thing or the other.
No just worry yourself;
No let anything bother you,
Just know say I go always come rescue you from wherever I dey.
You always dey my mind,
No let anybody put sand for our garri,
Na only you be the person wey u go like carry go church
Take a Step Forward and Don't Look Back
Drama of lover’s fears and tears.
I place my hands up to my ears,
Roll my eyes, and walk away,
Oh, why does it have to be this way?
Why can't things ever change for us?
~
I take a deep breath
And sneak out until the air clears.
Into the comfort of my room
And close the door
Where I find tranquility
And serenity of silence.
I lay on my bed with a good book
And open the door
Entering a fantasy world of
Medieval castles with Prince and Princess
Courtly manners and courtly love,
Knights with their codes of chivalry.
Fire breathing dragons and magic fairies,
Greek & Roman gods and goddesses.
~
You will never experience
All that is wonderful
If you keep focusing
On the bad experience
That’s behind you.
~
Where is the justice?
~
Take a step forward,
Forget the evil of the past.
Lay it all on a pyre
And put it a flame
And watch it all go up in flames.
Just walk away
And don't
Look back.
8/25/2015
Tough time – the economic crisis for a short period
Sometimes for the five members there’ll be few bread.
Mother would declare she'd already her share of bread
“I was soo……. hungry, I had mine” she would add.
Dad, sacrificing his life for my higher education
Worked in a rustic village and living in seclusion.
Scene changed with newly built house quite pleasing
With my name plate "Dr. Ram Mehta, Litt.D" hanging.
Scene changed with those sacrifices in matured years
Acting Moliere in France, in U.K. visit to bards’ houses.
Attending the poetry conferences in three continents
Retired life with kids in USA and India, both democracies.
***********
*Every autobiography is concerned with two characters, a Don Quixote, the Ego, and a
Sancho Panza, the Self.
W. H. Auden
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First Place win in :
Contest: The view changes sponsored by Michael F. Faletico
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Fourth Place win in
Contest: My Inspirational Poem by P.D.
Fifth Place win in
Contest: Winning poem by Skat-XOX
Outwardly, I bear
but slight resemblance.
But, oh!
On the inside,
We are virtual twins!
DON'T BLOCK YOUR BLESSINGS
An idiot sinking in the sea came up on a deserted island.
He had heard the philosophy of man is not an island, however, he resided.
He put his feet up on a fallen tree and made fire.
He was a skilled angler and had his catch of fish.
He deep-fried.
Once finished, begins to eat.
He asks self would he continue to survive.
Through his own thinking, he formed a set of values.
He walked the shores for several days with little luck.
He explored the vegetation and decided what he could consume.
He knew he better find timber to build a raft and a home.
He became very fatigue and dozed off.
He slept for an indefinite time and then awoke to find himself spellbound in a new
world.
Surrounding him was care and love.
He remembered how he came upon an island lost.
Today was newfangled.
Everything was so beautiful.
He asked self was this for real.
He would not ponder.
He would just live.
If he is to be found, this world was attached.
Yet somehow, he knew he was blessed.
He thanked the good Lord for taking heed, as he was the idiot sinking in the sea.
__________________________________________________________________|
Penned on October 25, 2014!
(Please read "An Evening of Don David Daewoo" at www.poemhunter.com before this)
Inside a specially constructed secret closet was the Danish Daewoo's son,
(It looked like the sacred vestry of the pastor and parson)
Some bold murmur he made, not so long and broad,
Repentance before the cock crowed.
Some cracking you heard of a page perused,
(Was thought of a Bible he privately used)
Some sibilant whistle and a beautiful baritone hum,
Some morning worship by the charming chum.
Then to the gym and again to the lawn,
A little karate and building brawn;
A walk and stalk and he ran some rounds,
And he Said, "I hate much fat, I gonna pour some pounds."
Now the sweated don would go for a shower,
And liked it cold in that morning hour;
Two eggs and milk and he left the door,
To be in lab again, and finish before four.
sleeping (( COLLABORATION * Don Johnson ))
by~ DON JOHNSON
The Nullabor it does abhor
the desert in it standing
The broken heart
he keeps apart
where Eagles are a landing
kangaroo is prolific cos good seasons bring in millions
they shoot them for the last hundred years,
Hoppy is still there in millions
Almost a plague after rain
The cure the joy the madness ploy, just catch a little Shiela
but broken hearts tend to self destroy
The one true love, to feel her
so searching for the lock of eyes upon the Nullabor
kangaroo does abound, dead straight the road for sure
Ironic tale sour grapes inhale,
He sleeps upon the plain
his swag is near the old Ute, and the dog is ever watchful
his protector is a beaut
~civilization calls~
he has to go back to the city streets
And searching ever searching for the eyes of lady sweet.
***by~ POET D:
Searching and searching till weak eyes fall asleep.
~civilization calls~
Calls the plague of raining streets!
The sleeping kangaroo took me into the abyss of sour grapes.
A wildlife with wildfire turned over by wildflowers.
Seascapes; full of sand that no one dared to understand!
Drowning underwater in a universe that had no expand.
Where the passer-by's felt the expression of sadness in his sleeping face.
All it took was experiencing the world with one lonely look.
A grain of salt, in the night sky!
Where clouds ‘walk-sneak and / clouds-cry like a whirlpool’,
Tears from a near by fountain deep in a valley.
Where we can sing for roo's sleeping heart.
Death in a wild flower mourning asleep on the hour.
Seeing’ is believing when Shiela appeared.
Drying tears with her sweet eyes over the desert lands.
A Collaboration with *DON JOHNSON
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~