Best Down To The Wire Poems
In little towns the big events are locally presented,
and every family in the town is usually represented.
Shopkeepers shut their doors when a pioneer curls his toes,
and if someone’s up to mischief, then everybody knows.
Every sporting club is well supported, right down to the wire,
they are the social hubs of towns to set the youth on fire,
through footy clubs and netball clubs combining into one
to sing and dance the night away, promoting local fun.
Of course when youth is mixed with party love can fill the air,
so Cupid’s firing arrows through the hearts of those who care.
This sometimes leads to earnestness when love gets in the way;
the town is now preparing for there’ll be a wedding day.
There’s heaps of preparation from the family of the bride;
flower girls and pretty maids to stand right by her side.
There’s the minister and invitations; the caterers are right.
All the groom must think about - “Are you coming to the bucks night?”
It’s half past five and dawn is breaking; we’re coming back to town.
God knows who is driving but their foot is going down.
There’s nugget, sauce and butter, smeared over everything;
the bucks party is over now - it’s ten hours ‘til the wedding.
And now coming up behind us is a mass of flashing light,
when a siren started blaring; we thought it better to take flight.
We shot around some back streets trying to lose this cop,
then someone with a drunken slur, said “I think we better stop.”
Popularity is not the word that I would say is spoken next.
This angry cop took any plea completely out of context.
He wouldn’t listen to a word that’s said, repeating “That’s enough!”
before I heard the second click of a closing set of handcuffs.”
In a cell back at the station there’s a pall of doom and gloom.
And there’s a hint of panic when it’s mentioned in the room,
by the cop who indicated strongly that by giving him some flack,
we’re gunna stay locked up until his Sergeant arrives back.
I made every kind of plea I could, but this cop avoids my dreading.
He said “Young lad you’re lucky; my Sergeants at his daughters wedding,
so he’ll be in a good mood when he greets you in this room.”
“Don’t bloody count on it” I said - “Because I’m the flamin’ groom!”
yaw rap per cushions red like muffled punches by the fuzz who stops speeding bullets engraved on their tombstone, a family made bringing safe streets to the older folks...
yay man, the sin cup pay shun stuttered like a nervous kid, or ma self as a scared sullen boy, the nerdy geek, who felt the wrath of bullies branding words burning the psychic flesh of this then scapegoat.
yaw rap per cushions again my faithful friend out on the streets where peeps do meet
got to come clean living in the land of mean working as a village king
this nervous kid is full grown like a bat to the ball I stand up ten feet tall
used to be used to it last time I checked was a rooster feeling the pain in my brain
they say I got a nervous twitch while I wind up in a ditch what's my next pitch
the stereo is playing our favorite song can't we all just get along
flirting with fire in the midnight hour coming down to the wire a gun for hire
rap is for suckers making other plans this homeboy is working on his tan
Of all your constant transgressions, I tire.
Yes, you're pushing it down to the wire.
I even sent you My Son
yet His work stays undone.
Must I resort to one last trial by fire?!
Field and forest lay painted pearly white.
Nature unravels her artistic side.
Angels descend to view the peaceful sight.
Trees glisten with a smile full of pride.
Snow capped meadows welcome and do not chide.
The winter sun calls out for none to hide.
Peaceful people come out to laugh and play.
Cocoa and s'mores are made by the fire.
Majestic mountains host skiing all day.
In peace reigns this wintery empire.
Skate the lakes whose ice does not expire.
Hockey games are drawn down to the wire.
Fowl fly the sky; deer roam the forest floor.
Yak dwell with monks on the high mountain top.
Love highlights the mistletoe evermore.
Snowmen come to life, no one tells them: stop.
Wolves become puppies, aggression they drop.
Rabbits fear them not. They share the same spot.
Observe the snap shot of this winter land.
May this time of peace on earth stand so grand.
12/26/2018
Winter Wonderland Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
1989 party time
1990 lisa will you be mine
1991 we haven so much fun
1992 it was only me and you
1993 javante came to me
1994 it was hard core
1995 we still alive
1996 we had our on cliques
1997 party "24 7"
1998 we got paid
1999 davon came right on time
2000 big move
2001 9/11
2002 work
2003 lisa still with me
2004 working
2005 reggie is all the way live
2006 we still the ____
2007 working hard
2008 promise
2009 to 5
2010 down to the wire
whats missing?
I walk out the door, I say no goodbyes
With my bag in hand, I salute all the guys
I hop on that bus, I continue to wave
And before I know it, they all disappear
There’s no time for fear, for I must be brave
My destination, becoming so near
I pick up my gun, I prepare to fire
Concentrated, straight down to the wire
A shot of pain, straight to my shoulder
I fall to the ground, the blood spills like a river
My body, now as heavy as a boulder
I can taste the metal, almost like silver
I pray to God, he shall save me now
Oh please, why have I taken this vow?
I can hear the helicopter land, slow and steady
I’m lifted up high, carefully and gently
To be taken away, I am ready
No matter what, I wouldn’t ask for this to turn out differently
Here, my thoughts are left only to roam
Please wait for me, for when I come home
the day i was born
my life in scorn...
what path do i lead
what words will be sworn...
no hope in my heart
just the day we will we mourn...
in the blood of my brothers a message shall be warned.
no future to behold
my story will be told...
no words of the mental
just a poet in gold...
with a soul that will glow
like a fire in the snow...
the ones we believe in,are the ones we let go.
no racing the clock
for one day will stop...
no image to renew
much people forgot...
the suffering that dropped
the demons will rot...
and the fire in the snow, will only get hot.
we remain in the fire
and urge for desire...
we will drown in the lake
that only gets higher...
and bleed with the lier
that made us the crier...
down to the wire, we die in the fire
burned for the love,from your secret admirer.
I'm winning by 64.2%
Now projected the winner!
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Won! by 50.2%
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Senate seat is (R) Jim Justice
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I win by 48.9% or 599,769 votes
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Trump wins by 59.4%
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I win by 51.1%
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Trump wins by 64.6% these are huge numbers!
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Donald wins by 54.8%
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Alert! Daddy Don wins by 66.9%
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Alert! Trump says there is massive cheating in Philly!!
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It's down to the wire! Don't forget, it goes by population in a State.
You get how it works now--all that matters is Pennsylvania!!!! I'll explain later. Good luck Trumpsteneers! I don't want to float your boats but there is one more thing involved it's called the Electoral Vote...This is what decides...Donald won both electoral and the popular vote. WOW!
Such an ironic plight in blinding light of day,
his appreciation, the cruel blindfold o’er eyes,
after his dark time served in dank cell of dismay,
taken out at dawn, a bright morn for his demise.
Rough restrict of ropes constrict, last embrace he’ll feel,
as he’s tied tight, upright, the execution post.
For his people, freedom from oppression he’d steal,
heartbeats, time ticks down, he thinks of those he loves most.
TICK - TOCK - TICK… he wonders if thundering heart's heard
and curses his body for betraying his fear.
A grim line set taut in the stubble of his beard,
hailed a hero, fetor of human fright fills the air.
Tick - tock - tick - trussing death pole lends his back support,
tremulous dread at life’s end - defiance steady,
as the commander begins with the last resort
and raises the rifles, brisk command of; “READY”...
Tick - tock - tears and angst co-mingle behind grimed gauze.
“You can kill this roused rebel, but there’s more the same!”
“Freedom fighters! We're willing to die for the cause!”
With rifles at the ready, a clear retort; “AIM”...
He yells “You can all go to HELL! You cannot quell”...
rebellious heart afire flaring down to the wire,
“this revolution tolls your bell for it will swell!”
TICK - quick as a whip’s lash, the booming command: “FIRE!!”
Susan Ashley
11/20/17
**execution by firing squad, in the past sometimes called fusillading (from the French fusil, rifle)**
Just like football I am trying to reach the goal
Zigzagging down the field of life to keep from getting bowled
It is first down in the morning as that whistle rocks my head
Just a little button hook to get me out of bed
I am tackled within three steps as my son bursts through the door
His sister went long with his mobile phone to even up the score
I coach them how to play together, not to scream and shout
Both are yanked from the game for a personal time out
At ten AM in the second quarter I think I am gaining ground
The dog intercepts a pass by the cat to turn the game around
Racing out the patio door that dog and cat did mesh
It cost the dog a bout in his cage for unnecessary roughness
Halftime brings the team together to analyze performance
After lunch we play again to make good a second chance
The clock winds down with end zone in sight, dinner takes a tumble
An audible I had to call because the cake I fumbled
And finally in quarter four, the game down to the wire
A revelation that no one else could manage this empire
Though touchdowns are sweet in life, one thing I came to know
Sometimes to win the game at hand you only need a field goal
turn up the stereo so everyone goes to hear the song of lil Pump know
bust up the beat to promote its tempo
take you to places you need to go
flirting with fire coming down to the wire a gun for hire calling him a liar
the steets are uneasy the flames are just as strong
cause Turtle Wax is cheap we got the dancing feet stand still to repeat
purchased a remedy for hip hop brevity everythings steady are you ready
close the door to places you need to know have a shoulder to cry
what's to die for a leader and never a follower
Lil Pump like Gucci Man working on his tan the latest fade
chain it up burning records like you want to smoking marijuana as you grow fond of
Dance hall grill hoping latest trend with family & friends
Lil Pump know the score kicking it with a two bit whore screaming for more
in the window stands a paradox of time remember when you were broke down to your last dime
the wild side inside of me minus the *********** set the captives free
Lil Pump know what Little Pump do but I'm still not through
he's coming on track in the music scene living in a land so very mean
Lil pump is where its at working to hard can give you a heart attack
Big Mac with your Cadillac playing hacky sack a tiff or tat
purchased his resistance caught the oozy lying but I'm not buying fish for frying
There's a beast
A ferocious monster inside
Ready to release
What shouldnt be brought to life
Roaring beneath
Timid on the outside
No one will ever see
The evil intentions in its eyes.
Only a God can end the dissonance
Though one's yet to be found
One to slay the animals insolence
Lay his intentions to the ground
The desire to take innocence
Breaking boundaries around
Ones destruction is imminent
Severity will astound.
What a terrible drive
What an awful desire
In due time
Regression comes down to the wire
It doesnt deserve to be alive
But to scorch inside fire
There's animal inside.
Times running out of hours.
It was time for the New York Residential Division contract to be renewed
but the Realty Advisory Board desired the members to get screwed
that wanted the members to give some of their benefits back
but 32BJ leadership stayed focus and on track
so on and on and on the bargaining talks did go
but the union refused to have any give backs nor accept the word no
we don't bend over, we don't back up and we sure as hell don't back down
our President Michael Fishman and his team stood their ground
it came down to the wire and neither side would concede or give in
until we had a rally with 10,000 plus members and called on our political friends
and at the midnight hour the new agreement went into effect
32BJ's leadership got the members exactly what they'd expect
they kept all 10 of their contractual sick days
and no percentage of their healthcare do they have to pay
they will get a raise in all four of the contract's years
and there will be no hiring system on a level that is two-tiered
VICTORY for 32BJ the union that never backs down
VICTORY for the New York Residential Division
HOW SWEET THE SOUND
Soft sands
Across my liars face
Coarse and fine
Tiny grains
As if I lived
In an hourglass
Tumbling, crumbling
The aftermath
I see a holy city
On a hill
How did it get
So high up there
How did the sky fit
In empty air
Negative spaces
On positive faces
Say you wont
But know you will
Climb for the journey
Atop that hill
To the city of the dead
No longer bright
Shining a dark light, instead
I've met the mayor
He knows my name
I duel him daily
It's all a game
Still the same, win or lose
The decision still mine to choose
It's my turn to try and help
If I reach out, will I be welcomed
With open accepting dying arms
Or close minded living vile germs
Just because you don't see me
Does it mean I'm not here
Barely existing to
The ones I care
For or am there for
Time again
Time brings us
From start to end
Like the train in which
I'm chosen to conduct
From the damaged carcass
I reconstruct
My fire burns
Down to the wire
The fuse is just old news
The bomb is hidden
Inside my heart
When it explodes
My life will stop
In the boundaries of this place
When I leave
I'll go with the greats
In a state of taste or disgrace
Panic envelopes my honest face
And the liar died that day
Rolf was born in Wallertheim, in an optimistic year
Progress seemed to be everywhere, and not much to fear.
Then the reds took Russia, shook the world to the core
Millions killed when in power, a crime you can’t ignore
Drafted in World War One, every moment was a scare
French came at him in bright red uniforms, too visible, wasn’t fair
He claims he didn’t kill anyone; I wish I could believe
He was on the wrong side of that war, a past you can’t retrieve.
Under Weimar, the dollar was worth 4000 trillion marks
That kind of inflation destroys society, opens it to sharks.
Nazis got into power, took guns from all the Jews
Rolf threw his weapon in the Rhine, and his medals too.
He left grape vines behind, took his family out, down to the wire
They rode through Palestine, saw Jewish farms set on fire.
Then a letter came from the Reich, called Rolf to the reserve
We still have it, bureaucratic time lag, an ironic reminder to serve.
If Rolf had gone back, he would have been doomed
Into the maw of the gigantic bloodshed one more life consumed.
I met Rolf in Denver, a short, muscular guy
He even flipped me on my back, with a Judo move I didn’t spy.
I watched a rodeo with him, history was in arrest.
It's a strange thing, in one man, so much time compressed
I spoke with a great-aunt who had uncles in the Civil War
A great uncle told me he saw soldiers marching to fight the Boer.
He also fought in World War One, but on the English side
Showed me wounds in his arm, to fight was part of pride.
And now I use ChatGPT, and admire Space X
In me through memories so much history connects.
And yet I’m the black sheep, so many things went bad
I’m relieved these men never knew my saga, so dismal, and so sad.
I also look at the world, there is so much bad news:
Jihad in Africa, and in Holland a “hunt for the Jews”
China, Russia on the rise, the west has seen better days
Will we end that compressed window of history in a fiery blaze?