Best Funk Poems
I had the worst terrors last night
My mind was in a gruesome sight
The ‘ol apocryphal scene
Insighted by the new regime
Migration bill stirs fear among
Farmworkers chant that It’s Wrong!
Phone app saves Honduran journalist
Can’t go back she’s on their death list
Can’t walk ‘n get food without stress
ICE is cold, enforcing arrests
Or anywhere, nonetheless
For a green card is meaningless
Now a tourist destination
Gaza's newest sensation
Take over plans for a Riviera
Palestine people’s tierra*
Taken; territory sovereign
New rich owner YOU ONLY gain
Who be the beneficiaries
Billionaire contemporaries
For undoence he’s called a hero
Those sacrificed their life for, zero
Those fought for everyone’s freedom
In vain forgotten in this new kingdom
Unbeknownst me how it plays out
Living in the USA, peace-out
I am recovering my mojo, though I have almost no hair
That damn Chemo stuff took it away, and one day it was not there
And it really did fall out in a matter of days
Almost comical your mind says HEY!
And despite being a woman, I feel I look like a man
A bit embarrassing you see, it was not in my plan
I had worn the "cold cap" that supposedly preserved it in health
But while they were nuking my body, they nuked it to hell
So I wear those funny hippy hats now,
those slouchy knitted caps that you see
And I do my best and pretend they don't see
I know it grows back, but there is embarrassment still
And it may come back curly.. good lord a new hairstyle I will
But for now it's an inch, and a little sparse on top
And for a while before it all came out it was an Albert Einstein mop!
I kinda laughed horrified when it went to that point
And well, I now smoke those pot joints
It helps with the nausea which I still have
and it relaxes me on the things that make me sad
See I just lost an ex business partner to hospital error
and that played my sleep, her wife in despair.
Losing my hair is nothing compared to that loss.
I know it down deep, I have suffered that cost.
And so now, I laugh at the vanity hit
and put makeup on when I need to look fit
And I still run around braless you see
because well I am a heathen, societies freed
And if dignity was bent by the small sacrifice
I project my personality and suffer that cost
Keep swimming, Keep swimming...
Like what Dory said
That's my motto that sings in my head
How to get out of the funk. Artimus (C) 2/3/24 Susan Manley
Inspired by Rebecca Heineman , my friend, former business partner who lost her spouse Jennell Jaquays.
day dreams while
pecking the computer
dog days
Speak to me of true love
And I’ll show you a dog
Preach to me of wetlands
I’ll take you to a bog
Sing about sweet Christmas cheer
And we’ll read about suicide
Discourse on the sanctity of childhood
I’ll teach you of fratricide
Write poems on the joys of life
And I’ll listen to your lies
Rhapsodize on friendship
We’ll learn how friendship dies
Show me purple clouds at sunset
I’ll warn you of storms to come
Rave about the fires of hell
I’ll show you where I’m from
July 28, 2015
Must be quite strong and take winter in stride
Rugged Canadian winters are hard to describe
The lack of old sol
Main reason we fall
In a funk till the springtime and the robins arrive
© Jack Ellison 2016
In what way shall I improvise myself?
Shall I memorize the first way I felt?
And my origin from West Africa
Through the European landing in hell?
Jelly with a honeysuckle belly
Make it catch like rhythm that unfolds
Unremembering the hell til it tells me
Live like I act like a story untold.
Ragtime Naptown bands in syncopation
Dixieland Creole bred pause for the cause
Sax make it take it banjo behave it
Clarinet trombone tuba and guitar
String bass and pluck mashing in your face
Swing like I tap dance on boogie shaped clouds
Ella King Vaughn touch it fast then it shake
Mean as a blues song on turn it up now.
Then I gain recognition streams freed me
On to an atonal sound without bop
And I'm not in any definite key
Remembering not remember locks.
I'm crying in my beer for good reason
Super Bowl's the last game of the season
No more tater chips and beer
What am I to do all year
Except watch reruns of Jackie Gleason
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Right Reserved
Entry for Royal Trevino's "Super Bowl Sunday" Contest
drowning
in fountains of learned ink
and lit keys
Lost and flailing...
Did it ever matter?
nobody would even notice
if sunlight goes black,
hidden behind sleeping will.ows
muffled by snores
and striped-barked trees
stifled pattern
viewed through stubborn lashes,
through discolored eyes
Soon,, the air
572017126a 126a156
press play to rare funk
man i am loving the groove
relaxes my mind!
Smooth jazz playing
on my car radio.
Finding myself reluctantly
bobbing my head along
to the constant rhythm
of the mild funk.
Reminding me of
long car rides with dad,
and being subjected
to The WAVE radio station
94.7-- The Soul of
Southern California.
I’ve now tasted death
and pop a stick of
spearmint gum
into my dry
annoyed mouth.
Thoughts of
unpleasantries
invade my emptiness
and, presently,
fill me with regret.
Over this song
or other things?
Or maybe both.
Missing my dad
but wishing the WAVE
no longer existed--
maybe it doesn’t.
I blame you…
writer of
poetry challenge
for this noise--
the torture on my ‘drums.
I need to lie down
until I’m fine.
Will I ever be fine?
Who even listens
to smooth jazz
anyway?
Dad did (funk spazz).
Jazz Band…
Jazzercise…
DJ Jazzy Jeff…
Jazz it Up…
Utah Jazz…
and All That Jazz…
Cool Jazz…
No Jazz for me.
Still, I miss you
dad—
and The WAVE too.
*I wrote this poem on April 11, 2021, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ challenge. This was day 11 and the prompt was: Tune in to a radio station you don’t normally listen to, and write a poem inspired by the first song or message you hear. The song I heard was called “Dinner is Not Over” by Jack Stauber. Read the poem and take a guess at how the song made me feel.
unite me into blue haze
out beyond blue yonder
I'm searching for it, boy, i'm searching for it
mother where are you?
lonely, terrified, open, barren, naked soul
eyes sincerely yearning for blue yonder
"take me to another place"
"it's going to be ok child"
take me to that blue yonder
where i can have a drink with my friends, former friends,
and maybe even my enemies
"take me child...."
take me to the bar where joni mitchell is singing
and the smoke is surrounding us in her blue haze
take me to the club where coltrane is blowing his horn
I want to see Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan is singing, while coltrane is blowing his horn,
they are all telling us of love,
while the world is holding hands, embracing each other
and I take that wounded child of mine and hold him
and sing Bob Marley to him, "everything is going to be allright now"
stepping into oneness and truth
"everything is going to be allright"
bring that funk people, brink that funk
the funk is coming, the love is coming,
the glorious country, hiphop, bluesy, surreal hazy, glorious, wispy, smoky funk
bring me the funk
bring me the funk of the ages
bring me the funk of love.
.
Birthday Funk
Little ones can’t wait to mark the passage of time,
Presents and cake, everyone making a fuss.
Young folks use this time to push out their chests
And say,” look at me”; I’m responsible, I can vote!”
But pass a certain mark and the gifts you get
consist mostly of slippers you can warm in the microwave,
Or Barry Manalow CDs….and maybe some thoughtfully sweet diabetic candy..
Because” You look like you’ve been putting on some wt.” .Ha!
Last week I heard”Let me help you with that sack of flour”,(5 friggin #’s)
Or “ you know there is a senior citizen discount offered today.”
You become terrorized by your mirror and
Spend a lot of your time squinting at fine print,
You have to guess at the menu because
Once again you’ve forgotten your reading glasses...
And will NOT, even consider borrowing his…
Even for a slightly better blur.
But, realistically I know there are compensations for getting older,
Lets see, hmmm, I’ve forgotten what they are. They’ll
Come to me. When they do I’m going to write them down.
Seen my pen?.
NOTE: This limerick posted 10/31/2020 in
Alexis Y.’s PEE YEW Collaboration
Take a look at the collaboration on her page! It's hilarious!
I once was peed on by a stinky skunk
Stinky not quite the word – he stunk!
I tried each known cure
Retained his allure
I am still surrounded by funk
Was my life really a bore?
Not stuck in it anymore!
Getting out of itcan
Prove to be a chore!