Best Front(A) Poems


Premium Member Lord Harry's Front

Old Lord Harry put up a good front.
He hid socks in his pants as a stunt.                        
But, his Lady swore
as argyle hit floor
that no organ was found to be blunt.



6/17/14

It seems some did not get this poem so a wee bit of 'splaining is above for all you Desi Arnez fans.

Definition for 

FRONT - noun the side or part of an object that presents itself to view or that is normally seen or used first; the most forward part of something. [i.e. the front of his pants]

FRONT - noun in a military sense the front is the FIRING LINE
FRONT - a fake or false personality

This poetic devise is called a double entendre [a play on words]- a word or phrase open to two interpretations, one of which is usually risqué or indecent.

ORGAN - is also being used this way - The human ***** is an external male sexual organ - as well as a musical instrument made of pipe

ARGYLE - a pattern composed of diamonds of various colors on a plain background, used in knitted garments such as sweaters and socks.

or ARE GUILE - someone who is sly or cunning 

even the word BLUNT has another meaning here since a BLUNT sword would be of little use
Form: Limerick

Backyard Party

Blue Jays and Black birds and half a dozen squirrels.
Sprinkled with Sparrow's, it's become quite a world.
Occasional Cardinal to add a little spice.
They seem to all be getting along fairly nice.

The neighbor, he feeds them plenty of food.
It seems it is working, they've become quite a brood.
As long as the house is buttoned up tight.
They're not a problem, I sleep fine at night.

Out in the front, a chipmunk does play.
Scurrying around and having it's way.
A Robin or two might ruffle their feathers.
I wouldn't change a thing if I had my druthers.

It feels like I'm blessed to have such a mess.
Nothing to do but enjoy it, I guess.
God certainly does have mysterious ways.
How he shows us his love in these warm summer days.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Old Bob

OLD BOB

Tell ya bout old Bob
Long bout O-One he lost his job
Twernt much ova job    I fear
Hadn’t been fer many a year
Standin out front a this here super store
Welcoming folk in    kind of a real dang bore
Best thing    though    bout old smiling Bob
Didn’t mind goin ta work  
Kinda liked his job
Standin out front through weather foul or fair
Helping even the infirm    with lovin care
Ya might say    that there super store was Bob’s true home
Cause after hours Bob sat and sat    quite alone
Sat in this one-room pad above a whiskey dive
Listenin ta noise    all night    all kindsa rock and jive
And as nature will    Bob got much older    then ill
Standin in front a that there store    weak-kneed    full a  
    pain 
One day old Bob collapsed    couldn’t come back again
He lay on his back atop that whiskey dive
Nary a soul knew old Bob was alive
Ya’d think after years front a that super mart    never glum
He’d a wandered round inside    found him a chum
“If some help had come    he’d have survived”    Doc said
This   a course    too late when they found old Bob dead
Well    these things happen in this runaway world
Everybody caught up in their own little whirl
Old Bob    it seems    uz jist one of the thousands come to a        
    sorry end
Done his best    made mistakes     society don’t bend
Old Bob died fer want of a friend


Premium Member Sum Day Up Thar

Ah done cum frum tha ol' times
Whar we's jist roams free
I's gots a gun, a hoss un grub
'Un bedroll 'neath a tree.

Sum times ah jist works fer grub
An theys the tother times
Ah's jist watches tha stars 'bove
An sleeps un tha moons light.

Don't likes ridin' un tha rain
When lighten  flies 'bouts
T'ain't safe ta be's board youse hoss
If'n youse tha tallest thin 'round.

Seed sum thin tother day
Done made me's feels so small
War a cowboy on 'is knees
An 'is hoss with head bowed low.

Tha cowboy held hat un han
Un front a wood cross
He war prayin ta tha Lord 'bove
Fer all tha pards we's loss. 

Theys air up thar, that I's knows
Bacause las night I's seed
Ma frien Charlie ridin herd
Next ta ma pa, Reed.

One days I's 'll be up thar
An sum one down balow
Will looks an watches tha stars shine
Un sleeps 'neath tha moons glow.
                                  Cile Beer
Form: Verse

Church On Saturday

I read a notice in the paper about a free Church dinner
“I’m going, this will be a winner”
Saturday morning I sped out to eat
Thinking this is really a big treat.

I walked thru the big arch doors
Heard an organ playing on the first floor
“Gee that’s nice, music while you dine
This had to be just something real fine.

So many people sitting in rows
Ends of the seats all taped with bows
This may be a long wait to eat I thought
I remembered there were no tickets to be bought.

A young lady approached me with a smile
I asked if this was going to take awhile. 
Long table with candles at the front of the church
But I didn’t see any food during my search. 

A man up front, a waiter I thought to be, told me to come forward
With all the people still waiting, I felt really awkward
The organ played, I thought now I will get my meal
Everyone stood up as the lady came down, “my gosh this is unreal’

The waiter asked me ‘do you take her’
Couldn’t well hear, I was in a blur,
Thought he said “do I want take out”
‘Yes he does’ a man did shout.

The waiter then asked me for the ring
Didn’t  know that was something to bring.
Then I notice she carried a pale blue bouquet
I then realized, a shock hit me---- ‘mayday”  “mayday’

The waiter exclaimed, ‘you may now kiss your wife
“She’s now married to you for life”, 
The wedding march sounded, what did I say?
I know now never to go to church on Saturday,
Form: Rhyme

Unrepentant

Stopped a front a marble alter
guilt of crosses to bear,
unrepentant sins left to falter, 
a damage beyond repair.
Awakening a slumbered light
a soulless heart to fill,
burning a fuse that refuses to ignite
revulsion of the catholic swill.
Devils of a demented scroll,
souls rise to an angels call,
masquerading with unfashionable droll
death ultimately succumbs us all.
Divided souls of subtle pragmatics
 an unyielding faith of fruitlessness fanatics.
Form: Rhyme


Beauty Shop

There is something I notice about women
That has me quite amuse
And the more I think about it
I am becoming more and more confuse

While walking down the street yesterday
In front a beauty saloon I stop
And when I take a look inside the window
I could have swore it was auto body shop

They were completely repairing a woman
From her head to her toes
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing
As my curiosity begin to grows

I see a lady working on her hair
Adding waives the colors of the rainbows
While one doing her fake nails
And another guy working magic on he toes

The eyes lashes was already glue in
and the blue contacts was done install
And when a Botox needle went in her face
You know the women didn’t even bawl

Then a girl come by her lips and blocks my view
So really couldn’t see what she was doing
But I know when the girl done and leave
Her lips look fat it was no longer thin

Then she talking of the work she had done
With silicone and implants everywhere
And she start telling of a bunch of other stuff
But a car blowing horn so I couldn’t really hear

Well in my life I’ve never seen
A woman takes so much pain
The thing that have me more worried
She makes an appointment for next week again

Now I checking all the things she had done
Fake nails, fake Lashes, fake lips, fake hair
Contacts, silicone, Botox fake top and behind
She looking like a new car walking out of there

But I must admit that she was looking nice
Face red and rosy like a ripe mango
And I could smell her perfume as she comes
Walking like she’s one of them super model

Then she stops out side and looks at me
Holding a bag of Chinese food in my hand
And said don’t even try it loser
A woman like me looking for a real men

Premium Member Words In the Wind

The South End Poetry Group 
wrote, shared, critiqued, 
then self-published in a book.
Not content to hold and
admire our work, we set
about to give others a look.

We put up a special booth
during the fall festival
honoring our home town.
We raised our tent, to
block the sun, secured
with stakes in the ground.

To catch their attention
we used bright balloons, in
colors of red, white and blue.
We tied them securely 
on each side of the tent
in case the wind came thru.

On the tables, we placed
covers in our school's colors. 
In front, a large banner
telling who we were and why
we were there, then displayed
wares in an orderly manner.

But the wind had no care
for all our effort, and
spurned our colorful array;
came in with a mighty
whoosh, like a giant broom,
and swept it all away.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Amazing Friends

I start to discover and explore..
I have known someone by worldwide end..

We start to chat..
exchanging informations witout VAT or Bath..

How could i know will be this close..
Sensitive enough to feel..

In high or low pitch tones..
In mere exchange of words..

sometimes, no need for much words..
sometimes, no need for much a do's..

though in thousand miles, never has a chance to meet: eye to eye..
though in rows of months, never once has a chance to talk front a front..

There is that chemistry, between negativity and positivity: a neautrality, ..
There is that binding faith, between Islam and Christianity: a desire for love..

Who can ever tell..
Who can ever judge..

Unexplainable..
Undeniably, just amazing...

deeper than the oceans depth..
higher than mountaintops..

precious as like diamonds..
longer than sands of time..

we are friends..
F - R - I - E - N - D - S..

by: olive_eloi
4:02pm
23/10/2013

dedicated to: friends

Distance

The sweet scent of sea salt across your face
 The million miles between our hearts both time and space
 Memories of laughter, dancing and love together in one place
 Do you remember the dress I wore and my white veil of lace? 

 The years have come and gone, but I'm still here
 With each passing moment a breathless hope that you draw near
 Pondering still on how it all ended, so much left unclear
 Watching my changing reflection in this broken mirror
 The end creeps closer in each passing moment, alone in death I fear

 Blue majestic mountains set in front a fiery tipped orange sun
 Only first seen truly with my eyes when into your arms I did run
 Fate was set and paths chosen nothing to be undone
 All the time spent together, long passionate nights of fun
 Weight on my shoulders must weigh more than a ton

 You loved me once and  my heart was only for you
 Why such a harsh decision in the end we both came to
 Your eyes now only see a sky of green and the ocean blue
 A fog has set in and the past has become a hue
 12,000 miles away from me your heart flew 

 The hands of the clock are coming to a stop
 They say my heart no longer works and my blood pressure will drop

 My thoughts are with you as I leave this wrinkled shell
 I hear beautiful music and the distant familiar sound of a ringing wedding church bell
Form: ABC

Premium Member Autumn's Afterglow

As sun goes down on this November day,
and evening chill of autumn makes its way,
a frost now settles over quaint chalet,
as couple seeks their warmth in love’s portray.

As in the fireplace crackling flame ablaze,
and on the floor in front a fur rug lays;
upon the rug into their eyes they gaze
as lovers seek their passions now to raise.

Across their flesh the shadows from flames dance;
their tangled torsos seemingly in trance
and tightly clinging while they share romance,
as hearts are beating faster flames enhance.

With heavy breathing bodies seek to sow;
they quake together reaching love’s plateau. 
Then clinging tightly stemming now the flow
there on the rug in autumn’s afterglow.


November 16,2018
Form: Rhyme

Awake

Humpty Dumpty through a pass
Back and forth he broke like glass
I’m at the finish I watch him crumble
inch away dam I stumble

Cinderella called  me out 
Her curves so hot
Out on the spot
Asked her to dance 
She came back no chance

Alice booed me from the crowd
Standing tall she was so loud
An itsey bitsey spider got in my jock
I started to shake rattle and roll
I looked insane 
Like I lost my brain
The crowd just knew I thru this game

Humpty Dumpty Cinderella Alice booed 
Shook her umbrella 

4 th quarter must escape
The crowd will trap me at the gate
Mary poppins floating high
Above my head I grabbed her feet
Her shoes are laced there in my face
Ride me Mary thru this place

Outside in front a pirate ship
Captain Hook yelled this way mate
I jumped aboard than seen the plank
In my face a thousand swords
I jumped ship landed in a spout
Met old mobey he looked so old

When I wake I’m on an island
No one around
No humpty no Alice no Cinderella 
Escaped from hook lost the crowd
Mobey checked out
I road his spout

No rhyme no reason
Just football season
Form: Lyric

Library High

I met an old man in Atlantic City, in a library by the shore  
Through the glass, the ocean shimmered, he couldn't ask for more  
He said he'd been retired since his wife had passed away  
His kids scattered across the land, it was hard to fill the day  

He spoke about Dobbs Ferry library, there sunset paints the sky  
From balconies he watches as the Hudson drifts on by  
Outside the Hudson Highlands library, a castle on the height  
Inside, portraits, paneled wood, and windows with golden light.  

[Chorus]
So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds  
So many worlds to enter, and peace to ease his mind
He explores the future and the past, the stories don't grow old   
But me, I watch the TV sitcoms, letting time unfold  
 
He liked the New Haven library, where the homeless sometimes sleep  
The librarian wakes them gently, though it makes her heart weep  
He's been to New York's grand palace, with lions at the gate  
In Greenburgh a local sang Western songs, folks danced, it was great  

[Chorus]
So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds  
Echoes of a world gone by, and peace to ease his mind  
Myself, I watch old action movies, but suspense won't take a hold  
Sometimes I feel lost, sometimes I feel cold. 

[Bridge]
The Detroit Public Library gave him a pleasant surprise  
The city has seen better days, but that place deserves a prize  
Built with Vermont marble, Italian trim, a building meant to last
In front a River of Knowledge Mosaic that connects us with the past

I felt a bit of sorrow, his hobby made me fret  
I said, "In Atlantic City, there's excitement you can get"  
"Come with me," I told him, "There's a place that we can go"  
He smiled and said, "No thank you, son, I'd rather take it slow"  

[Chorus]
So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds  
So many worlds to enter, and peace to ease his mind  
While I sit and watch the reruns, letting time pass by
He finds the temples of the past, a learning kind of high.

He said "I'll stay in these cathedrals of what we used to be  
To each his own, before birds flown, on priorities we disagree"  
He turned back to his book again, beneath the painted dome  
And in that silent moment, I knew he'd found a home.
© Gem Stone  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

The Boys In the Back

The Boys in The Back
By Sy Roth

The right hand turned the waters 360 degrees
Then another willful rotation
Until the bubbling chicken-fatty waters splashed over the sides
While the boys in the back did their algebraic calculations
Considering the enigma of a minus two yellow eggs 
Then jouncing on the waves of her stirring.  

An arthritic chicken leg made its way to the surface
Its death-claw clawing at the chunks of flesh swirling amid a flotilla of vegetables
And with it redolent steam captures the air of the kitchen in its garlic thrall.

She continued the rotation in the silence of the eddying water
Resting for brief moments in the minutes of her remembrance
Embracing the time when food was ersatz
And the act of eating became a chore. 

She held the dreams of her survival in that ladle
A galumphing oar in her packed chicken soup—
Shabbos wonderment to stir away the remembrances of things past
While we played behind her back with imaginary numbers.

Her front, a no-access vestibule
A sodden wall of sorrow against a world 
Where we did our algebra and plumbed the secrets of numbers 
Away from her horrors.

No words—
A simple sometimes brief shake of her hair
To bring her back to reality.

No left,
No right. 
No judgment
Just the temporary aroma of living
With her sons scratching their numbers in the background
Thumping the depth of calculating incalculable numbers.
© Sy Roth  Create an image from this poem.

Do You Know Me

Alas alas the time has passed
The world she knew was gone
She wandered here, she wandered there
For she knew of no one
Why could she not remember how she came into this world?
A ma? A pa? A brother dear?
Her voice she must make heard
So on and on she carolled from one stranger to the next
And as she went, her mind she bent and became so perplexed
None would stop to answer her, no, not one soul
Of who, and what, and why she was now stranded in this world
Do you know me?
Do you know me?
She watched as strangers passed
Do you know me?
Do you know me?
She stood in front a glass
Do you know me?
Do you know….
She stopped dead in her tracks
For what she saw, or couldn’t see
No one was looking back

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