Best Duluth Poems
There once was a man from Duluth
whose habit was spinning the truth.
He had told the same tale
(every day without fail;
'twas getting quite long in the tooth).
He sat down to drink in a booth
then ordered a double vermouth.
He said a tornado
shaped like a potato
had taken his poor wife named, Ruth!
The men in the bar yelled, “Forsooth!”
But one woman thought it was truth
(the gal was a newbie
who'd just smoked a doobie)
and sent more vermouth to the booth.
“The first time I ever saw Ruth,”
he said, toasting her with vermouth,
(Though usually crisp
when he drank he'd a lisp),
“wath back in my youth in Duluth.
“She'd one perpendicular tooth.
When she withled came her pet gooth.
It wath love at firth thight
and we wedded that night
with her gooth on top of a mooth!”
“We honeymooned outthide Duluth
in a cabooth, just me and Ruth.”
He then heaved a big sigh
(he was getting quite high)
“And of courthe the mooth and her gooth.”
He took a big swig of vermouth
and said that they never found Ruth.
“Just an arm at the mall
and her foot on a wall,
pluth one thingle tooth in Duluth.”
He wept as he pined for his youth,
so the gal ordered up more vermouth.
Then the telephone rang
and the bartender sang,
“It's Ruth, your ex-wife in Duluth.
It's I telling you the sad truth
about her and 'who goothed the mooth'!
Now she wants a good check
that won't bounce, you old wreck,
like the last at Bank of Duluth!”
The new gal cried, “Cad, You're uncouth!
You gave your eyetooth it was truth
of poor Ruth and her gooth,
the cabooth and the mooth
in Duluth, and all for vermouth!”
The man said, “The truth in Duluth
and why I keep hitting the juithe
ith that Ruth and the mooth,
the cabooth and her gooth
were a nooth I had to cut looth!”
The new gal cried, “There weren't no gooth,
nor mooth or cabooth in Duluth!
There was just poor old Ruth
and some nooth that was looth,
plus a drunk who soaked up the juithe!”
The man from Duluth knew the truth,
“Thereth no more vermouth. Whath the uthe?”
So he crept out the back,
but the rest knew the tack:
he'd be back next day for vermouth!
The Great Lakes Engineering Works built a new boat
S. S. Edmund Fitzgerald, t'would soon be afloat
The people that owned her needed a name
President of the company was given that fame.
One of the largest boats to sail on the Great Lakes
Was a solidly built boat and had what it takes
September twenty fourth nineteen fifty and eight
Was her maiden voyage, laden with freight.
The 'Mighty Fitz' was the nickname they gave her
'Titanic Of The Lakes', sadly that would come later
For years she shipped freight from town to town
Crossing the Great Lakes, left, right, up and down.
The lakes weather worsened in the month of November
Ferocious storm's that would pull ships asunder
That fateful day 'The Fitz' took a route
Sailing to Detroit from a port near Duluth.
A hurricane force storm was heading their way
Other ships took refuge in Whitefish bay
Captain McSorleys last message, " We're holding our own"
What happened thereafter isn't quite known.
The storm battered the boat with thirty foot waves
And sent all her crew to their watery graves
November the tenth, nineteen seventy five
The 'Mighty Fitz' sank, no one did survive.
Lake Superior was where the tragedy occurred
When the news got out, church bells could be heard
The Reverend Ingalls twenty nine times he did toll
For the crew of 'The Mighty Fitz' every lost soul.
A memorial service is held once a year
The bells are tolled, they pray, shed a tear
Stories have been written, and a ballad too
Dedicated to the men of 'The Mighty Fitz' crew.
A Noteworthy Ship Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Ligouri
Written 18.12. 2017
There once was a man from Duluth
who grew very long in the tooth
he lost all his hair
but he still had a pair
that randy old man from Duluth
'Twas the night before Christmas
On the village square.
Carolers were singing.
Everyone was there.
My daddy was a baritone
But his falsetto filled the air.
Mama shrunk his boxers;
They're not ready-to-wear.
He asked Santa for some new ones;
He didn't dare go bare.
So, on Christmas morning,
Santa left a spare.
Now daddy has a pair
That couldn't give a care.
He's back to singing bass
Thanks to his Duluth underwear.
November 29, 2019
There once was this dude from Duluth
Who sported just one single tooth
Got into a fight
Knocked out his lights
Relating the tale, sure some of it's untruth
© Jack Ellison 2015
And then she had only one tooth
The rest had decayed, that’s the truth
Too much Christmas candy
No dentist was handy
She lived all alone in Duluth
Of dentists, she was not a fan
Guess that’s why she can’t find a man
One tooth has its perks
Just watch how it works
When she needs to open a can!
Graffiti Graveyard is/was a place in Duluth where street artists would spray paint their murals. It was in an interesting location, underneath a highway. The homeless of duluth would sleep here, an upwards of 20 plus tents could be seen at night. It was an eyesore (that was also out of sight) for some Duluthians and they demanded the homeless sleep somewhere else. None of these Duluthians have even seen graffiti graveyard or know it's location.
Underneath a bridge
a community lives.
Homeless, hopeless,
society can't forgive.
What we see; unkempt, unstable community.
What they see; togetherness, and gain of unity.
Bodies rest in battered tents
the Highway Manor's up for rent
the city folk will all lament
over where their tax is spent.
"They live under our highway?
That's down right crazy!
Evict all of them,
I don't care if they hate me."
Says the tax-paying, upstanding lady
she only loves her neighbor
if they drive a Mercedes.
"Graffiti Graveyard is a sin!"
No, it's a place where art lives
and the exiled enjoy the presence of home
that the art gives.
Tags left their mark
underneath and unseen.
The city demands an exodus,
and wipes their hands clean.
There once was dude from Duluth
This dude only sported one tooth
Wore tattered old jeans
Quite airy they seemed
Believe or not that's the truth, the hole truth
© Jack Ellison 2015
I walked up to the man at the counter,
put down my bag, and looked at the name on his tag,
It was Howard. "How do Howard," said I,
“Ain’t it a lovely day to be alive? I want to
visit my sister Ruth in Duluth,
whatcha got leaving around five?"
Then I smiled and showed him my tooth
"Akkk," Howard spat, and proceeded to yak
When he recovered he spittered and then sputtered
Finally, he uttered, "Sir, I am taken aback,
I have never seen so much plaque!
And it's green sir, it's green! One tooth! One tooth!
and you can't keep it clean?" Then he remarked,
"Sir, that tooth must glow in the dark."
“Howard,” said I, taking a swallow of my gin and juice,
Is your last name Seuss?”
Old Stackhouse Joe
Had a lazy eye
Sunday morning choirboy
He could sing like a lark
He had a stiletto
He sharpened all the time
Stuck a pig
And called it bloody wine
Poker night at Joe’s
Always a fight
Smoking day old
Cigarettes he’d bought one at a time
Spent some time in Quentin
Jailhouse tattoos
Scar across his cheek
From a razor in Duluth
Said she stick around
But cut him instead
She only did once
Cause now she is dead
Whiskey and wine is all that he drank
Never saw him sober
Sunday morning choirboy
He could sing like a lark
Wouldn’t want to cross him
Anytime after dark
A foolish, young man from Duluth
Spent all of his money on Ruth.
She's grateful of course.
He's filled with remorse,
And now must face up to the truth.
January bills are now due.
Year's taxes are coming up too,
Taxes and charged bills,
Most he head for hills?
Bills don't pay themselves it is true.
Written by: Female, ring size 8
The grower's child and the picker's child want to run away
They want to go to Duluth, the most exotic place they know
We fear he'll get amoralous and ruin us, ruin us
Here the rain is falling, straight as pokers
But never piercing the laconic plane of air
A sudden wind will blow it sideways, straight into eyes
It is too warm to stay in one place, but to follow --
I make up my mind before the gate hits me on the way out
They call for me, but I run, I run
I've run
Weeds underfoot buoy me to the sky
My age doesn't matter now, nor my circumstance
Only my good feet, my big lungs to take in the blue
My calves
I know the laws of the universe but there's no reaction
Not here or now
There's a castle in Duluth
Made out of sugar cubes
And the moat that flows out front
Is filled with soda pop
Fruit that grows on trees
Is the finest in jelly beans
In the nearby spring fed lake
People swim in grape Kool-Aid
The streets where those people live
Are cobblestoned with M&M's
In their houses made of brick
From different flavors of licorice
With picket fences in the lawns
Constructed out of candy corn
When cotton candy clouds
Move in from the South
The crowds open their mouths
As the skittles come raining down
The days are always sweet
In the Kingdom of Kandy
Where the King and Queen rule fair the days
With scepters made of candy canes
In their castle of sugar cubes
This Kandy Kingdom of sweet tooth's
A legendary entertainer known for his folk singin'
Wrote the protest song, "The Times They Are A Changin'
He was born in Duluth, Minnesota as Robert Zimmerman
Singer, songwriter, author, artist, what else? A renaissance man!
Educate Me With Humor - Leader Clerihew Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich (Winner: 4th Place)
Date written and posted: 01/23/2019
Duluth Warmbilt factory blanket
placed over his shoulders
after dinner cookie in lap
untasted
facing out the long
double-paned window
grinning hard
scaring the new hire
A skull she thinks
waiting for it to melt
just enough
so the two-ton truck
The crazy kids drove out
onto the frozen lake
stuck out there
all winter now
gets swallowed up.