Best Fargo Poems
Always Prepared
Ready
Freddy
The Untamed
Feral
Ferril
What’s in Frankie’s Pockets?
Frankie’s
hankies
Patriotic Guy
Yankee
Frankie
Of the highest Quality
Fraser’s
razors
Small Eater
Grazer
Frazer
The Warlock
Pagan
Fagin
The Brilliant One
Star Glow
Fargo
Something’s About to Happen to Him
Herald
Gerald
Poet
The bard
Gerard
The Mimic
Parrot
Garret
Who Needs Pudding and Pie
Georgie
Porgie
Good Grief!
Lordy,
Gordy!
Best Things in his Garden
Gerrett’s
carrots
The Stoic
Steely
Greeley
What People Always Say to Him
Really,
Greeley?
The Generous One
Sharin’
Garen
Thrill Seeker
Gnarly
Harley
So Angry
Snarly
Harley
Embittered
Soured
Howard
Not Brave at All
Coward
Howard
What’s in Henny’s pocket
Henny’s
Pennies
The Pest
Vermin
Herman
What Herman Gives Each Sunday
Herman’s
sermons
Why Can’t He Just Stay Home?
Roamer
Homer
Better Than Ice Cream
Sherbet
Herbert
Get Him Band-aids
Howie’s
Owies
Nonsensical
Phooey
Huey
Always Amazed
Wowie
Howie
The Overly Sentimental One
Gooey
Huey
RUNAWAY TRAIN
A runaway train a life full of pain
Running avoiding the hurt
Getting away with lies, dancing in the rain
Treating everyone like dirt
Call me insane
I am my on freak on my runaway train
Running like the gingerbread man
Running as fast as I can
Catch me now if you can
Abandoning every life plan
Removing the ones in my life I cannot stand
Finding myself in Rome
How the Hell did i end up in another land
Take me French men by the hand
Sent me back with the runaway brand
Trust me it is no joy to feel like a toy
Runaway train has been my only joy
Leaving everything behind
Meting myself as a homeless in every cargo
Runaway train in my on matchbox
Runaway train lighting up the flames
Runaway train my life full of speed
Running avoiding my hearts need
Tracking me down and you'll find me in my own
( Soul Asylum) lost in a ( Runaway Train)
********A FUN SPROUT
My runaway train has ended
, everyone joined, jumped in my cargo
My runaway train all the supers mended
Waiting on them who joined my Wells Fargo
Thank you everyone for closing the contest,
In less than 24 hrs. Did not expect that.
Being my first contest and all,
I looked for one thing i needed to see.
A different point of view Of what I wrote above
SKAT
Black Bart the PO8
Robbed Wells Fargo in Cal state
His lifestyle—his fate
Claimed his poetry
Not his robbery should have
Jailed him…snobbery
Cuba…Mamma Mia…like most of the Caribbean; part of the 1492 slam…
Slavery, sugar plantations… invasions, upheaval, independence…
Then the American kisses; with a slight twist…who initiated the ’disses’…?
Was it Blaine…is he insane…?
Was it Marti…the heart of the party…?
Or Teller…many say he was the real speller…
Or Estrada Palma…could he have been the calmer…?
Was it San Martin…any questions of his parting…?
Or was it Batista…is he the real twister…?
With his interwove of expansion…then stagnation and dissatisfaction…
Coupled with his increased economic regulation plan…
Was this the spike for the revolution…?
Enter Castro; was he the real maestro…his thoughts, his plans; communize the land…?
Centralize, non-democratize…ostracize, reorganize…
The politics…were they laden in tricks…?
The CIA; not here to stay… but what role did they play…?
When they realize the RAF size…what will they emphasize…?
With great plans to defeat…did they end in retreat…?
Now with Eisenhower…speculations of a great shower…
But after only months…fixation shift to ouster hunts…
Severed diplomatic relations…the new sensation…
Impositions of trade embargo…the ‘Fargo’ in my cargo…?
The ‘Bay of Pigs’…will you understand the gigs…?
The ‘Cuban Missile Crisis’…what was this Tri-fit…?
The military games…were these substances in flames…?
For a superpower war…or the everlasting scars…?
Of suppression, political persecution…migration, and interventions…
In Angola, and Ethiopia…from Nicaragua to North Africa…
To the Congo…to some say; ‘Jah Mek Yah’…?
Cooperation with Russia…was this the real crusher…?
The mid-eighties…the beginning of their ending gaiety’s…?
The dissolving of the Soviet Union…continuation of the country’s isolations…
Reduced rations…the new fashion…
Unpainted buildings…now the in-thing…
Old vehicles with limited repairs…any scares…?
Lack of electricity…did it colour the ethnicity…?
A country on the verge…is there a new urge…?
Tourist attraction…one logical concoction…
Amidst the flow…of system many Cubans know…
The US now attests…it is in the country’s interest…
Cuba has withstood the test…put the embargo to rest…?
White-covered ground.
Frozen all around.
Twenty feet tall white birch trees.
The only snow I see all around.
Yes, that's where he took me.
I begged as he said get down.
Get down on your knees.
I said please, I'm begging you, please.
He said I'm doing it to you.
What they done to me.
There I lay watching my spirit fly away.
As he just walked away.
Watching Fargo
11/ 23 / 2015 Monday 10: 55pm
WE HAVE ALL SEEN THE DISNEY FILM, TOMORROWLAND,
STARRING, GEORGE CLOONEY.
IT IS A GREAT FILM THAT DEPICTS THE HOPEFUL AND FUTURISTIC
VERSION OF HUMANITY REACHING FOR THE STARS AND BEYOND.
TODAY, IT IS EASY TO GET DISCOURAGED WHEN ONE TURNS
ON THE EVENING NEWS AND FINDS OUT ABOUT SOME
SENSELESS KILLING WHICH LEADS TO TRAGIC DEATHS.
LET'S NOT GIVE UP!
I PROPOSE, WE NEED TO CULTIVATE AND REACH OUT TO OUR
NEIGHBORS AND CREATE THE KIND OF COMMUNITY,
WE WOULD LOVE TO LIVE IN. A SAFE COMMUNITY.
WE ARE ALL THE SAME AND TECHNOLOGY IS GREAT!
BUT, IS OUR TECHNOLOGY BRINGING US TOGETHER
OR DISTRACTING US?
HECK, I THOUGHT WE WOULD ALL BE DRIVING
FLYING CARS BY NOW.
THERE ALL BILLIONS OF PLANETS AND STARS OUT THERE.
THERE ARE ALSO BILLIONS OF POSSIBILITIES WITHIN OUR UNIVERSE.
AS A HUMANITY, WE NEED TO WORK TOGETHER
AND LITERALLY FLY A MANNED MISSION TO MARS,
OR FLY TO EARTH'S MOON AND EXPLORE THE DARK SIDE!
AS A HUMANITY, WE COULD EXPLORE TIME TRAVEL,
AND LEAVING OUR SOLAR SYSTEM IN THE FUTURE.
THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS!
AS WITH EVERY EXPLORATION,
WE NEED TO DEVELOP OUR POSITIVE POTENTIAL.
IN THE FILM, TOMORROWLAND,
GEORGE CLOONEY'S CHARACTER REALIZED,
HOW TOMORROWLAND HAD MORPHED INTO DARKNESS AND EVIL.
AS A HUMAN COLLECTIVE, WE HAVE THE POWER
TO CREATE A POSITIVE AND FUTURISTIC VERSION OF OURSELVES.
WE DO NOT HAVE TO BLOW OUR SELVES UP
OR TAKE OVER THE WORLD.
ALL WE NEED TO DO IS STOP AND LISTEN
TO OUR INNER SPIRITUAL VOICE, BE OPEN MINDED,
AND NEVER STOP LOOKING AND REACHING
FOR THE STARS!
WRITTEN BY, CHADWICK ANDREW VINCENT
IN FARGO, NORTH DAKOTA
MAY 22, 2016
There was a day on TV
Where westerns were all the rage
You could take your pick
From your TV paper page
Together our masked hero the Lone Ranger
With Tonto kept outlaws in a spin
Have Gun Will Travel was the card
For black dressed professional gunfighter Paladin
Wagon Train kept rolling along
Seth Adams the leader
Flint McCullough chief scout
Old Charlie Wooster was the feeder
Rawhide kept the cattle moving
Gil and Randy kept control
In Dodge City it was Gunsmoke
Marshall Matt Dillon was key role
On the ponderosa it was Bonanza
Where Ben Cartwright was the boss
With his family of three boys
Adam, little Joe and Hoss
Wells Fargo was the stagecoach
Where Jim Hardie was the star
Now these are only some
For they were many more by far
They were the Virginian and the Rifleman
Laramie, Maverick and Cheyenne
The High Chaparral not to mention alias Smith and Jones
These made us all a fan
Cowboys where are you?
Memories of you is our lot
On TV we can’t see
Is this our last shot?
poetgord@2013
THE BULLET TREE
No one knows how long the bullet has been lodged in the big old maple tree
Mr. Ailey claims he knows but Mr. Ailey is an old old man
No one till Teddy so far as we know ever tried to dig it out
Mr. Ailey says the growth at last will push it out
Ailey says “The shot was fired at trailin’ injun’ horsemen”
He rubs the wrinkles down off his face and says
“It was a Wells and Fargo stage a rollin’ down what now appears yer Downin’ Street
That there tree was jist a sturdy pole when ‘Ugly Ben” a sittin’ shot-gun fired a round
At them them injuns” Then old Ailey clucks his teeth
The bullet tree is just down the terrace from the deaf lady’s house
It stands on the dear lady’s property (Mrs. Troutman)
“That there house ya see” Ailey’s pointing with one crooked finger
“That there house useta be nuthin’ but prairie dog territory” He coughs spits a string
“I come huntin’ buffalo afore even that there tree was more’n a shootin’ twig
Ta git back ta Ben Now Ben come back one day ta see ifn he could find a shell or two
When he come upon the bullet lodged in tha tree
So he drove it in and pushed the empty shell casing in in back of it
Thet there bullet Ya see? Goes tat ha very heart o’ thet there tree”
Even at our age we didn’t believe half of what the old man said
Teddy tried to pry the bullet out one day
But the deaf woman crackled threats from her porch
Her voice we thought what a porcupine might sound like
Anyway the deaf woman’s cackle was a bad omen we thought
The bullet tree at last became a challenge
To dart after careful observation then
To touch the dented weathered circled end
Without arousing Mrs. Troutman
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Stagecoach Mary
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: January/2014
Mary Fields,
(1832-1914).
born a slave,
somewhere in
Tennessee,
on the
Dunnes
Plantation -
She became
the first
African American
(male or female)
to deliver
the U. S. mail
in
America -
She was
a tall
woman,
over 6 Ft,
and
strong,
weighting
over
two hundred
pounds,
who
didn't shy
away
from
a brawl
or
two
if need
be -
She rolled
cigars,
chewed gum,
drank
plenty whiskey,
and
was famous
for
caring
a pistol,
and
rode a mule
name
Moses -
Mary,
had
also
a
pet
eagle,
and
a
penchant
for
baseball -
She
wore
buffalo
skin
dresses
that she
made
herself -
She
must have
been
an
intimidating
figure
to
behold -
In 1892,
Benjamin Harrison,
was
President -
During
those days,
Wells Fargo,
had
the
U.S. mail
contract,
and
needed
a
stagecoach
driver
with
a
strong will,
and
survival skills
for the
rough route
between
Great Falls,
Montana
to
Fort Benton -
They
chose
sixty year
old
Mary Fields,
who was
more than
capable
of
doing
the job -
It was
rumoured
that
she could
hitch
a team
of
horses
faster than
the boys
half her
age -
Mary,
became
a legend,
tales
of her
adventures
was
well known
in
all the
pioneer towns
of
Central
Montana
and
neighbouring
states -
Her
reliability
and
work ethics,
earned
her
the
name
"Stagecoach,"
Mary,
by
the folks
along
the mail
trail -
Mary,
and
her mule
Moses,
never missed
a day
of
work
in
nine years,
and
was never
held up -
Mary Fields,
retired
in
1901,
paving
the way
forward
for
African
American's
to
follow -
THE BULLET TREE
No one knows how long the bullet has been lodged in the big old maple tree
Mr. Ailey claims he knows but Mr. Ailey is an old old man
No one till Teddy so far as we know ever tried to dig it out
Mr. Ailey says the growth at last will push it out
Ailey says “The shot was fired at trailin’ injun’ horsemen”
He rubs the wrinkles down off his face and says
“It was a Wells and Fargo stage a rollin’ down what now appears yer Downin’ Street
That there tree was jist a sturdy pole when ‘Ugly Ben” a sittin’ shot-gun fired a round
At them them injuns” Then old Ailey clucks his teeth
The bullet tree is just down the terrace from the deaf lady’s house
It stands on the dear lady’s property (Mrs. Troutman)
“That there house ya see” Ailey’s pointing with one crooked finger
“That there house useta be nuthin’ but prairie dog territory” He coughs spits a string
“I come huntin’ buffalo afore even that there tree was more’n a shootin’ twig
Ta git back ta Ben Now Ben come back one day ta see ifn he could find a shell or two
When he come upon the bullet lodged in tha tree
So he drove it in and pushed the empty shell casing in in back of it
Thet there bullet Ya see? Goes tat ha very heart o’ thet there tree”
Even at our age we didn’t believe half of what the old man said
Teddy tried to pry the bullet out one day
But the deaf woman crackled threats from her porch
Her voice we thought what a porcupine might sound like
Anyway the deaf woman’s cackle was a bad omen we thought
The bullet tree at last became a challenge
To dart after careful observation then
To touch the dented weathered circled end
Without arousing Mrs. Troutman
Fast as an atomic banshee, he roils sacred halls
of White House clutches levers with brass balls
American powers remain unrestrained when he calls
Armada to exorcise imagine aery dragons,
he inarticulately falls
non-communicative, faux eruditely generative,
and heartily galls
toward this introspective kickstarter male,
and most likely others he appalls.
-------------------------------------------------
My inner guru hankers to share voice
amidst increasing din
and clamors in reaction to insidious machinations fin
hushed via Machiavellian offal prince,
who unleashes clout with Cheshire grin
unconcerned about population, chaste,
from their wells Fargo wing.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Most every citizen banker, and kin
stared down vis a vis fierce-some intimations
catapult escalating, spin
laughing at rigged voting outlook
gratefully inflicts populace with monstrous win
doomsday soldiers -
art of the deal book not writ by said urchin.
-------------------------------------------------
Though regularly affiliated with top notch
kudos to virtual soapbox platform
re: all poetry to express Bing averse
toward ill feted Barron settlement
of United States government tossed like scotch
on thar hocks, thus an uneasy angst
also invisibly grabs me by the crotch
cuz das Trump power monger,
I fear rubric of democracy, he will botch!
-------------------------------------------------
This poem alternately titled -
harbinger of political debacle wolf find antipode
where toxic brew at crack of 12 a.m.
January 20th 2017 doth bode
doctored pregnant swollen tidal anarchistic military toad
deeds sheepishly shape into battalions
in tandem - fraternal order of police erode
Civilian protesters unite with ordinary citizen bankers
crowdsource sing metallic ca clash to goad
Form:
Infiltrating Trump's embargo
An Imam reached Mar-a-Lago
But his Call to Prayer
Just floated on air
The Trumps worship at Wells Fargo
Cinco de Mayo
At Mar-a-Lago
Is serving up Mexican lies
Trump welcomes us all
To pay for his Wall
In a scam each Republican buys
You know Wells Fargo
And Mar-a-Lago
Are models of integrity
Well, that big Caravan
Is Cartel to a man
There is no true refugee!
So forget the backlash
Just send Trump your cash
For a Wall that defines liberty!
inside llewyn davis a chilly hollow faint heartbeat
couches ripe for self-pity's starlit sleepless night
oh freres coen what happened to
four in the morning cold baked beans
rapping about the gig
busting out bawdy jokes at sunrise
rapping arms race, civil rights, sweet sex tales
tongue tied panavision
folkman batting pretty eyelashes in pretty corduroy
coat pretty angry girl
you 've lead us through depression south, fargo,60's minneapolis, 70's LA
all that's left to say
about this
fare thee well
Case in point comprises emotional state of euphoria
would deafeningly, definitely, deliciously get
frenziedly expelled from stadium. Roe ting for
“our boys” packing every last seat in the bleachers
all manner of humankind would (during lulls)
Instagram, Kindle, Messenger, Outlook, Quicken,
Snapchat, Twitter. Santander, Verizon,Wells Fargo
might be sponsors for major competitive challenge.
Zero tolerance imposes winning at all costs versus
grievous miserable rapacious violent yawping
linkedin loss outcome of sporting events. Under
stand able home team owns an advantage (true
for rival players on their turf) predicated on avid
loyal fans boosting morale from family members,
friends, neighbors, et cetera. The ear splitting
roaring cheering hoopla emanating from spectators
(housed in relatively close proximity to handsomely
paid putting Pontius Pilate and bad ass Brutus brutes
rolled into one mean human fighting machine.
This previous comment meant as an honorable
kickstarter, hyperbolic endearment. My humblest apology
if said statement misinterpreted as a NON off fence sieve
strong moderate slight against any creed, race, religion,
et cetera. I merely sought an analogously effective
impact asper these hypothetical Popeye muscle
bulging arms length professional athletes plush residences
lodged in general metropolitan area to rubber baby
buggy bumper screaming banshee spectators. A
winning score affiliated with bruising, cutthroat,
dynamo...fierce-some giant, heaving, indomitably
jinxed, “killer” macho no nonsense, outlandish packed
quintessentially robust searing troopers translates
into utter screaming, quaking outrageous merciless
krazy individuals generating ecstatic cacophony