Best Escort Poems
Patriot Guard funeral Escort
Loch David Crane
August, 2008
Today is sunny: with three dozen bikes,
some decorated cars, a pair of trikes,
two dozen Marines: all of the family
and toddlers to set their Daddy free
into the Great Beyond beyond the sky
where loved ones send their veterans who die.
Below our feet the stones give way to grass
where they are neatly trimmed; and as we pass
the names of strangers stare into the air
and we look back, wondering who lies there.
I won't step on a grave--I'll walk around
so not to insult those within the ground.
We ride at funerals honoring those vets,
brave men and women we have never met.
Please don't cry baby
I know you're frighten
I know you're hungry
I know you're painful
I know you want something
I know you're asking for help
I know you want to follow
I know you want my company or escort
Oh, please don't cry baby
You'll have a lot of chances to cry
When you grow up
When you're sad you cry
When you're too nervous till you lost your control
You cry
When you're sick you cry
When you lost something valuable you cry
When you fail your exam you cry
When someone leave you you cry
When...
The sky cries too
It comes as rain
The sea cries too
It comes as towering waves
You know, mum cries too
Whenever you cry I cry
Please don't cry baby
Please tell me you're always happy
Days are long and nights are short.
To last through time I will need an escort.
But yesterday I heard the news
my escort is gone, to heaven he flew.
I saw the feathers from his wings fell
in the lonely nights did time love to dwell.
Even so, I still need him nevertheless
though I know he's there, giving me his bless.
It's easy to walk with a pair of legs,
to fly with wings, not some wooden pegs.
The flesh was raw but now it has rot
with attempts to untangle this strangled knot.
I am in pain, in severe pain
and all this sadness do I wish to feign.
But he is gone, everything is gone.
Hopefully I'll live to see the upcoming dawn.
J-ust let the twilight pass;
H-aze and mist fade away;
U-nderneath the blue sky,
N-ew dawn meets the day.
M-orn nineteenth February
I-s setting Sunday aright;
L-et the sunlight rise,
A-fter the long cold night.
N-ow that your daughter has finished primary education;
O-pen your arms to be an escort in graduation.
donot pluck those smiling flowers
and place them
upon this mortal self when
darkness engulfs me.
Put me back in Her bosom
with a reminder that LORD
be with me in my voyage to
the other world.
why did this have to be me
(my life)
a perfect mother by day
but an escort by night
i live in the biggest home
have the best cars
and i wear the prettiest clothes....
but only because my mother
(is a hoe)
different men....
more then one in a night
she says she doesnt have sex
(with all of them)
but sex is not why i cry
sex is not what its all about
shes the talk of the town
and the rumor at my high school
she pays it no mind
swaring its just a job
but i see no time cards
and she cashes no checks
all the men keep telling me is
(your next) (im next)
but itll be a cold day in hell
before i follow in my mothers
(footsteps)
why couldnt my mother
be a normal one...
or why couldnt i just be....
from another home
Escort Trump Out Horn Limerick
Off of earth Trump should be escorted
Diligent workers he had them deported
Left everyone behind greatly and neatly
After kissing loving mother so sweetly
Who actually Donald had him aborted.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx
ESCORT TO HEAVEN
The angels all had gathered for it was time again
To escort into heaven another godly man.
They stood there at attention as they had done before
To welcome yet another to this bright golden shore.
Two angels marched between them, one named Death led the way
With his black robe and sickle ready to take his prey.
The man knew he was ready, but was not yet aware
Today would be that moment he’d face this journey fair.
Then suddenly he felt it, and weakened by the fall,
He went into a slumber--but then he heard a call.
The angels who had followed behind the angel Death
Awakened him to new life and gave to him new breath.
And as his eyes adjusted to such a glorious day
He felt his strength now gather for the journey on the way.
He walked for just a while, and then began to run
As his short and swift journey to heaven had begun.
And as the rows of angels stood in respect and awe,
He looked around in heaven and this is what he saw:
The friends and all the family who had gone on before
Awaiting there to greet him upon the golden shore.
He waved a happy greeting as by them each he ran,
Now sight his faith had conquered, his new life now began.
The journey soon was over, now just one face to see:
A face so bright and glorious was smiling tenderly.
They hugged for just a minute, and then He said, “My son.
I welcome you to heaven and now I say, well done!”
The escort into heaven for this saint was complete
As his dear, precious Savior he’d had the chance to meet.
We all can have that escort if we will just believe
And in a full surrender this Savior now receive.
He’s offered His salvation, so rich, so full, so free;
Come to this blessed Savior who died on Calvary!
Based on an illustration by Dr. Jeff Smale at the funeral of Larry Fowler
The Foxy Escort With Her Date
He drank his wine,
savoring it just fine.
His spirits a lift
now he opened his gift
Out jumped a foxy dame
ready for his game
Are you ready for bondage
my little young hostage
Ties and whips
Hot wax and clips
Her young face turned red
not knowing what was ahead
Escort service said it was dinner,
not be a hoar and a sinner
I'm a student at night school
not your playmate and fool
I sorry, I rain on your parade
and can't play your charade
I must go right now
not be herded like a cow
Forget the bells and whistles
then, just soft land on my missile
Sir I'm not that type of gal
that sleeps with any kind of pal
Please take your rocket
and deep pockets ...
To my pent house room
with your flaming fumes
And there's your desire
waiting for your heart's a fire
Huh? Why did you play your game
to light my flame
Huh? Did you whet my appetite
for a long rough night
My dear, you're a good tease
I hope you please
Sir I hope you back the talk
with your walk
It's going to be rough,
let me tell you, and with handcuffs
and Hot wax
To the max
Sir I hope you back the talk
with your walk
I roll my eyes
to you, I despise
Sir take these pills
To give yourself more of a trill
You'll need it, to keep up
with this young pup
Again, Sir please don't disappoint me
with your church key
Or your mama's boy
with toys
Oh baby you're good
This is what the doctor ordered
Babe what's your name
Paris Pachecho
connie pachecho
1/06/17
The dark escort by a bloodied wound is called
Fire whipped islands, to salted bays.
Persons meek and willow
Tuft grass, oils, cherry wood frames.
Coin palmed nigh,
Mouth sewn and foot of the shadow, stalking
Aside the champagne roadside.
Various birds, minnows, bear cub hunters.
Smoking chimney stack, swirling symbol:
Revival, continuance, gluttonous soups.
The fairy tales of our collective youth
Sounds that clamber
Venomous troops and abhorrent winters.
Looking down now a blue jay frittering.
And who would I be to stay the night
Life and breathing timbers low
Purple incinerate, brown wood fence glow.
Malevolent mercies
Only a drop added to the sea
The dew drops are no matter to a monster
Cold forked faces see nothing.
Most of us taught to ignore the things
We're born to be then go & cave in to conformity
Because no one can win against war machines
It all blows in the wind like a hoard of leaves
While those at the top that hold the keys
That won't release the Golden gese
We sit here distraught or close to being
Misery swamped in droves we leave
To a different spot that's supposed to be
A legitimate lot with loans and deeds
They tell us some bull, that no one needs
& Expect us to roll it to potpouri
untill the scent that you breath, is as fresh as the sea
& Smells like a piece of morning breeze
I would have been better off poor & weak
In a big Renaissance born from sheep
& Live with some rocks absorbing heat
So I can step on the top & scorch my feet
Winds getting strong, then Dorothy sings
Gets swept off her lawn & Thrown to me
The wizard of oz, in quarentene
As sick as a dog, or horse that's green
Escort Us To a Tortoise
While I was riding around on a tortoise,
Had suffered from case of rigor mortis;
Thought was best;
Was hard to digest;
We named first child Unum E. Pluribus.
Jim Horn
PS.
Dug own grave with hands being shortest.
https://www.delhincrescortservice.com/
it's true, I just don't have what it takes to belong
to your so-called circles of sociable elite,
who give a lot of fuss about what's right or wrong
in my pedigree, in how I laugh, how I eat;
seems in your grand parties, I don't exist at all,
they talk about big money, properties, who's who;
I' d rather have chilled beer, dartboard on the wall,
but they say you ought to have a man, thus, I' m with you;
well, not my job, but let me say it just the same:
it's what you may seem to them that's worrying you,
part of your job, but a tricky make-believe game
that you must play and win, I understand, I do.
Flashes of light
Seems to catch my gaze
Lost in delight
I begin to sway
Sun shines brightly,
Walking on a frosted road
Don't say I might be alone
The sky will escort me home
A great vision I had
Little I know life will be hard
So hard that it made me bald
For a century my voice could not be heard
White in misery
Just like Babylon
I could hear the psaltery
My spirit resides in Hadaddrimon
Siting alone on this couch
The grey was the only thing i could hold unto
I became naked like i lack a pouch
Doing good became my motto