Best Drakes Poems
He walked down Goverment Road West
With a white cane, in shaking hand
Wearing Stevie wonder glasses
People called him the pop bottle man
With a white cane, in shaking hand
At the time he seemed old to me
People called him the pop bottle man
Searching the alleys for his treasures
At the time he seemed old to me
Frail in a menacing sorta way
Searching the alleys for his treasures
Bottles he spotted a mile away
Frail in a menacing sorta way
Us kids all stayed away from him
Bottles he spotted a mile away
I wondered why he carried a white cane
Us kids all stayed away from him
Until that day I took a chance
I wondered why he carried a white cane
Curiosity got the best of me
Until that day I took a chance
That man had been a mystery
Curiosity got the best of me
When I asked him why he smiled at me
That man had been a mystery
A lonely guy wandering the street
When I asked him why, he smiled at me
I handed him my bottle, he said thanks
A lonely guy wandering the street
Wearing Stevie wonder glasses
I handed him my bottle, he said thanks
He walked down Goverment Road West
I watch
Pop Bottle Man
Doing his blind man shuffle
When he sees a bottle
he moves towards it with ease
Dancing with glee
a spring in his step
More fluid than a summer breeze
He can see at twenty paces
Eyesight crystal clear
Through dark glasses
I watch him peer
Collecting his bottles
In plastic bags
The treasure that he holds so dear
Pop Bottle Man
His cane for protection
Illusion is the game he plays
What some see as crazy
May not be the case
If you take time to study his ways
For Gautami's Sketch a Character Contest.
I was inspired to write more after the Pantoum because of Drakes Comment.
written by Richard Lamoureux on October 23, 2014.
I enjoyed wrapping my mind around his words
Stretching my thinking
At times coming unglued
Reaching towards oblivion
While keeping my feet in multiple worlds
Standing on sinking ground
While leaning on granites precious solidity
The substance of imaginations inconsistencies
Tugging on the heart strings of a well played heart
Wondering along the pathway of dreams long held at arms length
Hoping to understand
Taking that backward look while moving forward and upward
Words are his gift
Dropped like psychedelic bombs
Ripping at the fabric of convention
Pain wrapped in sheepskin
Joy pushed through pencils point
Leaving me in awe
Dancing and stretching along
Bouncing against his liquid walls
Till I come out the other side
Understanding
Landing
Blessed
More than I was before
Yet part of myself
Stays behind
Trying to catch my breath
Dedicated to Drake
Submitted to Debbie's Guzzi's Referential Contest
"Closer" By Chris Aechtner reminded me of Drakes Work
and Drakes unusual word combinations thus inspiring
the above piece.
The Lord poured me, a pitcher of time.
For my personal use, it was only mine.
A generous portion, it seemed I got.
I wasted so much, I poured out a lot.
Exchanged for things, not a bargain in the end.
I can't get time back, it's not something I lend.
My pitcher's half empty, thankfully not too late.
I finally come to learn, what really satiates.
Time spent with people, poured into their lives.
Nourishing their spirits, makes my soul thrive.
Flowers now bloom, as I walk on life's path.
People are my pleasure, I smile and I laugh.
Thankful for each drop, a gift from on high.
Connected to a source, that never runs dry.
My waters of time, are converted to wine.
I give it back to God, it is no longer mine.
When this life is over, I will leave this land.
Off to eternity, as God takes my hand.
Drakes response inspired the wine stanza.
The bones of a forest are stripped clean by the ocean and strewn on her shores. The sun-bleached wooden cemetery leaves a somber impression on the morning scavenger of shells, who meanders in the gray mist of a fall morning dawn. He is lulled by the hush of the fog and the rolling waves that break on a gravel strand. With a head bowed down and hands crossed behind him... he searches... searches for opalescent treasures... like answers to life's questions. Is this how it all started, or is there some grander purpose? Then a gull caws as if an angel calls the seeker's attention. And as he looks up his sight receives a message delivered by two brown pelicans sailing along a cresting wave. This was here before you... and it will continue when you are gone. But now... you are mine... and we are one... divine.
by Martin Braun
6:30 a.m. September 20th, 2023
Jenner, California
To my oceanic compatriots. They put our love under a glass dome, posted deterrent signs on the paths we created 35 years ago, and sealed off the oceans. If they heard my, your, stories, they would run the environmental Bolsheviks into the sea like the demon-possessed pigs that they are. These self-righteous propagandists closed Drakes Oyster farm with lies, and they, like gulag interrogators of 1936, threw us into a sort of prison within the spaces of our minds, torturing us by excluding us from "the motherland's environment", and created an unimaginable wasteland with the walls they built by a lust for power. We are of this world... it is they who are aliens. Let us enjoy what God made. We created the protections with our respect and love for the environment. The environmentalists simply make laws, criminals, and prisoners.
"Hail Mary full of grace"
These words you demand of me
I sit in this dark box
Confessing
Crying
Talking to a shadow
Eyes that never meet
Untouched by your hand
You say my secrets are safe
I wish to be set free
Yet there is no relief
This is a cold place
A box
The walls close in
I feel no relief from sin
You ask me to begin
Forgive me father
For I have sinned
I have had impure thoughts
I have done things in the dark
The beast has left it's mark
You sit there
Do you understand
You speak softly and demand
Tell me more
Tell me more
Your secrets are safe
Why do you sit there
In the dark
Separated from me
Is it somehow easier to see
I'm sorry
It makes no sense
The wall becomes a fence
In the end we are both just men
We will sin again
Hail Mary's won't be enough
Only God can forgive our stuff
I will talk direct to Him
Through Jesus I can begin
His blood spilled for me
Now I know I am free
Redeemed
Forgiven
Jesus
Sweet Jesus
It is only him
To whom I confess
The one who paid the price
He cleared my debt
It isn't mother Mary
Or a man in a robe
Who set me free
So I walk away
Unforgiven
By man
Drakes Contest "The Confessional"
July 13, 2013
When faith in mankind is gone,
What faith then belongs?
So I went to Aura Vale Lake today,
To lay around, swim and play.
Sitting below the weeping willow trees,
With that warm summer's breeze,
I began to feel one with nature,
Its essence I felt, I could capture.
My faith itself then had returned,
Not in man himself, that would be absurd,
So I went for a quick dip in the lake,
Swam with the ducks and the male drakes.
The water refreshing and very cool,
I prefer fresh water than any pool,
Again I was feeling one with nature,
But had forgotten my pen and paper.
Just as well I thought to myself,
For this was more for my spiritual health,
I could not leave this adventure prematurely,
Not even for poetry, I thought surely!
No more Twinkies, no more Yodels;
Say farewell to Sno Balls, too.
Ring Dings soon will be extinct
And Devil Dogs, as well, are through.
Plus you’ll have to wonder where
Your fluffy white bread went because
If Wonder was the brand you bought,
This news I bring will give you pause:
For Hostess brands (and Drakes as well)
Have closed their doors, declared defeat;
But oh, those squiggle cupcakes! They,
In childhood days, were such a treat!
Hostess cakes are front and center
When I’m sweetly reminiscing.
I feel bad for kids today
And all those Twinkies they’ll be missing!
Screaming
towards heaven
while angels sit on clouds
is it possible they are not
hearing
I have not written one of these in a while
was motivated by Drakes first cinquain.
Great first attempt at this form Drake.
Muscadine grape vine
entwine...smell of bovine
forest edge
sedge
briars growing down the line.
I love the country
The country loves me
I’m as rock solid planted
As my hundred year old tree
Watermelon field
hi yield...Alpaca deal
stocked lakes
drakes
the red barn I want to build
I love the country
The country loves me
I’m as rock solid planted
As my hundred year old tree.
Catalpa worm tree
honeybee...works free
rain drops
crops
I love the country in me.
June 17, 2012
Was absolutely healthy, fit and fine
With Lifestyle of jogging, gym, laugh & be merry
One day ... alarm bell rang at odd time
Angiography led to Heart’s Bypass Surgery
Situation critical, Heart went under scalpel
Reports, X-rays, Veins cut, Grafts inserted
Operation successful, Health went on to propel
Heart overhauled, new lease of life injected
Am absolutely healthy, fit and fine
With Lifestyle of diet discipline and stress no more
Every day.... alarm bell rings in time
For Yoga, Mind-Body-Soul now peaceful, blissful to core
Operated, for Others Life's countdown has begun
Rejuvenated, to me Era of "By-Pass" to "Surpass" has begun
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sonnet Rhyme scheme - abab cdcd efef gg
HM in Members Contest - How will you Stand by Drakes Eszes
By Hitendra Mehta
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Muscadine grape vine
entwine...smell of bovine
forest edge
sedge
briars growing down the line.
I love the country
The country loves me
I’m as rock solid planted
As my hundred year old tree
Watermelon field
hi yield...Alpaca deal
stocked lakes
drakes
the red barn I want to build
I love the country
The country loves me
I’m as rock solid planted
As my hundred year old tree.
Catalpa worm tree
honeybee...works free
rain drops
crops
I love the country in me.
© Mar 19 2010 Charles Henderson
Let
it
rain
on
the
drought-
shrouded
terrains.
Let
it
rain
on
the
meadow
and
her
grains;
For
the
ember
stare
of
the
bridled
sun
Fiddles
and
suffuses
our
flaccid
corn.
Let
it
rain
on
the
paddocks
of
the
lakes;
On
the
subtle
ducklings
and
bickering
drakes;
Beneath
the
bleak
clouds
and
the
supine
trees;
On
eroded
coral
herbs
of
the
seas.
Let
it
rain
on
the
sordid
fluttering
gale;
On
salient
boughs
that
it
has
lured
to
sail.
Let
it
rain
on
the
dew-
quaffing
mountains
And
all
frost-
flawed
cliffs
and
weed-
wreathed
plains.
Let
it
rain
on
the
face
of
December;
On
mild
mellow
skins
of
oceans'
envers,
From
the
fog-
fiddled
toe
of
a
hill's
foot
To
the
depths
of
a
mermaid's
solitude.
Let
it
rain
on
pale
petals
of
flowers;
On
gloomy
castles
and
misty
towers;
In
lethal
labyrinths
of
cycloned
caves;
On
nap-
narrowed
nights
and
the
dirge-
drenched
days.
Let
it
rain
from
the
wild-
wandering
clouds.
Be
it
in
whispers
or
weeping
aloud;
Lest
our
hollow-
hydrated
hearts
complain;
On
our
knotty
knees,
we
plead;
let
it
rain.
Mere words ready to knock on our salient heavenly doors,
And what does a Royal face See,what does a clean mind read in Sodom and
Gomorrah's sexfilled cockpits,bottomless abysses exhaling the throes of
passion filled wet and warm Ladies...What roguely lust..Oh! what sepulcharistic
rot,
Lets keep writing to keep up with the Pace of your slow cruising space shuttles,
We must outrun the other rocket As she heads for our Moon,your Neptune,her
Jerusalem,My cry of celebity...what hated words her ears hate to hear...Hangon
we are almost landing on jupiter..further galaxies to be covered in retrospect do
remember....
To God, His wisdom, His saving Grace or Our Wealthy Gait.
Dont Misguide enemies to think like Kings,
That hearts of true friends were salient...Must we really be true,
Remember our cabin in the North of Ireland where drakes used to come play
and mate,
Schippol's fantasy We have seen and Beheld,
Roman Cheese I drench to bliss with pure fiery grape wine,
Ancient Indus valley recipes of Snails,Sloths,Badgers,Squid and Yellow sweet
corn,
Where will fresh Palmwine drench Her hold....Maybe within the confines of
Hardnut Coconuts.
Here they comes! here they comes.
every cow mooed...
The ducks and hens
leaving their drakes and cocks
came screachng to see the flock of those, the tiny little crows.
The king himself from his den,
came at the screach of the hens.
Mighty and strong stepping out between the crowd,
Proud and happy of the little feloows,
Those who shall fly over the meadows
croack! croach! came the frong, to notify those gathered.
The wind was light and the clouds were still..
Mother crocodile wept water called tears..
The pigeons and sparrows
come in pairs to see the future come closer.
The elephants stoodby in lines to trumpet for the little victory..
The cuckoo came by with a little surprise, a souvenier!
A gift from a far offtree, across whom they may fly,
pieces of pear to eat along the way..
The littles of crows,
Brought pride to their race..
By a beautiful take off..
Far far away from the sky,
the view all those down lookup to them now..
All the animals waved good bye! and split away one by one,
while among the little said, 'one day we will be the
crows with pride..and one day we will be the ones to see out littles fly..like fan's viewing the sky'.
by
Manthra
i took her riding
this time my venue, not hers
she loves horses, i am no equestrian
i am beyond saddle sore now
trail rides where every bird is identified
a short illumination of the species
mine are in this little park
where we would steal away
paddle boats thru the geese and ducks
she would always pack up bread
i always gave her enough notice
so she could buy the better bread
the day-old the bakery dumps cheap
it is healthier she will tell you
i always considered myself educated
until i found her lips
Robison Crusoe washed ashore
an island of magical moments
an oeuvre in my captivated heart
my magic is in the carousel
horses that go round and round
back in line to do it again
holding onto the bar i lean in
to steal a kiss, keep her in laughter
as the music and horses dance in a wonderland
the Wurlitzer organ fills the air with a bewitchment
we join parents and children in the magic
later we retire upon a bench
from her bag appears our humble offerings
every morsel approved by the minister of health
every grain is explained by lips i so adore
the ducks and geese beg at our feet
she delights in each morsel she throws
the happiness she wears on her face
i see Mother Goose in the crowd approving
drakes and hens galore with ducklings
the beauty of joy fills her eyes
to love her is to share her
caged birds are a sad lot
such a small price to pay
ride the carousel hand in hand
the alchemy in whirling horses and music
from an age long gone now
my treasure, a moment all to myself with her
to dwell in the magic of sharing loaves
those adoring eyes watching her
are a chorus i share
the bird of paradise has no price
master of her every dream
that is the labor of love
surrounding those dreams
with the magic life holds
3/2/19 Lufkin