Fork Out Poem
give me a reason
to take the pain
in this season
of heavy rain
I was a glass gong
just waiting to be shattered
but I feared for so long
that nothing else mattered
so keep your faith
and your broken word
no one is safe
from the double edge sword
now I just want to know
how to be who I was
but I can't let go
its not what a warrior does
so bring on the pain
and screw the reason
because in this rain
its the killing season
note....I cant believe how many lines start with and in this poem
I have my plate and fork out and am ready to eat crow
Copyright © Nathan D. | Year Posted 2014
Fork Out Poem
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Copyright © Lea Hela | Year Posted 2013
Fork Out Poem
As a man with a gun, he was among the best.
He lived in North Fork out in the west.
As a widower, he felt much anguish and pain.
This extraordinary man was Lucas McCain.
He and his son Mark lived alone on a ranch.
On a tree of life, they were a strong branch.
Town marshal Micah often called him for aid.
Lucas stood strong, steady, and staid.
No one included McCain among the meek.
He stood as a hero on the television each week.
Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2012
Fork Out Poem
Damn the torpedoes
Damn the torpedoes the Yanks did say,
When duds hit a Jap ship and fell away,
Firing pins weren’t working well,
One sub loosed 13 didn’t break the spell,
Just sometimes one was right.
Bloody thing would ignite,
And the Yanks would bloody yell.
Nineteen fourty four, pins good now for sure,
Sam Dealy and submarine Harder,
Transporting Aussies to Borneo, for,
To upset the Japanese pardeners,
Muiat Suki, Jap Destroyer,
charged the submarine,
Head on was sitting Harder,
1100 yards Dealy fired 3 torpedoes, i mean,
Chopped the fork out of his enchilada,
Next day at 650 yards,
Destroyer Hayanani came,
3 torpedoes hit this Destroyer,
Too many holes it was a shame,
Blew the fork out of his nighty,
Just the same,
The Reaper danced, begorrah,
Z Force men went ashore again ,
Into the wilds of Borneo, and then,
Ole Harder went a hunting men,
Of the Japanese type of fauna.
Submarine Tinosa (ss283 ) July 24th 1943, attacks Japanese oiler No 3 Tonam Maru west of Truk, Tinosa fires 15 torpedoes 13 hit but only 2 explode. Tonam Maru is towed to Truk by light cruiser Izuzu and used as a floating oil storage tank.
Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2012
Fork Out Poem
Unquotable quotes Friends – XVI
Can friends also be lovers ; not certainly under covers.
Can friends do one another harm and stay calm ; not unless they have lost their sense of alarm.
Can you make a friend do what you will not do yourself ; what’s the use of having a friend who will not.
Can you ask a friend for a recommendation which will get you a better job than his ; if you were him, you’d check to see if the signature was his.
Can you ask the friend running the marathon race with you to keep you company until the end ; if he does, dump him before you take the last bend.
If you asked your friend to take your sick dog to the veterinarian’s and if he agrees, give him your chihuahua, your kakatua, your Siamese twin and your cochon d’Inde, for a start. Keep the anaconda for a little later.
If you have a friend who has a large family, especially of the right sex, ask him to bring his entire family to your nudist camp at the local beach for the club’s commemoration day ; if he doesn’t, he cannot be your friend, so try another ; if the fool does, make certain the battery pack for your movie camera is fully charged and within reach.
Can friends who know one another well enough share the same dreams ; yes, if they lick on the very same vanilla-flavoured ice-creams.
Can friends you call on the phone at home after hours not hang up before you do be trusted to fork out a loan for your mortgage payment ; if yes, then go and live with him or her at once.
Can a friend who backbites and carries tales about you be trusted to give your bride away at your seventh nuptials ? Yes, he most certainly can !
Can a friend who reviles his fellow candidates in an election primary be trusted to offer a longstanding friend a cabinet post in the event of a final resounding victory ? Indubitably, otherwise they wouldn’t be friends for that long anyway.
Can you let a friend take from you to give to a sworn enemy ; of course you can if you have been trying to get rid of her for a very, very long time.
Can a friend who never ceases to talk of having saved you from your friends be counted among your enemy’s best friends ?
Wives of friends who are always alone need to take up the trombone or trumpbone.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016.
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016
Fork Out Poem
Pi (e) Day Sestina
being the recollection of a conversation between myself as I was trying to enjoy a piece of
pie and my suddenly irrational, demanding, and surprisingly bilingual stomach on 3/14
I really want a frosted sugar cookie right now.
Now, don’t think I’m loca
but if you don’t get me one I’m going to get Chuck
Norris to roundhouse kick you in the face. His lust
y pectorals: tan, hairy and torsional, will be but a blur in your memory. Never underestimate
the power of the one who can even make pi
a rational number. Oh irrational love of sugar cookies! I can almost taste the sweet buttery
goodness of the frost
ing melting in my mouth like the frost
y ice crystals busy changing states of matter now
on top of the piece of pie
hastily served to you before properly thawed at the loca
l diner, piled high with enough fake whipped cream to satiate even the lust
iest of appetites. “Who would chuck, even if they could chuck, would chuck
away such a flawless embodiment of pre-prepared, packaged, processed, passed off as
home-cooked goodness in favor of a stale cookie, and on Pi(e) Day nonetheless?” you chuck
le. That snide remark is deserving of the bestowal of my best Queen Frost
ine stare, you know, cold and queenly and vaguely reminiscent of the Candyland character
with the same name, whose (il)lust
riousness is matched solely (not only in beauty but also in sugar content) by that of a frosted
sugar cookie. I hope you (k)now
how to take a hint. No? Well, then get that pie-filled fork out of my face while I spell it out
for you. Loca
te a frosted sugar cookie for me pronto! This piece of pie
disgusts me! I don’t care that it’s pi
day! You’ve got 3.14 seconds to get me a frosted sugar cookie before I up-chuck
all over everything in this immediate loca
le! Don’t make me get all Frost
y the snowman on you now
and have a meltdown! Wow, I need to stop and take a deep breath. I’m making myself
Copyright © Stephanie Williamson | Year Posted 2009
Fork Out Poem
To suffer yes infernal heat,
To burn the fork out of your trouser seat,
submerged in loves tales of deceit,
when tender-loin arouses,
to burn with fires taste of lust,
to strap it down to stop its thrust,
to feel like it might surely bust,
unless the flame she douses,
to pander to this manly urge,
to feel the blood the rising, surge,
could be my fetal fatal final dirge,
from coming, passion flowers…
Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2013