Best Gendarme Poems


Premium Member Beat Generation

Long arm gendarme
My mistake namaste
Backpack bivouac
On the Road with Kerouac

Brilliant stars, silent nights
Fireflies, Northern Lights
Mountain streams, fresh air
Fall asleep anywhere

Small town, take a chance
Pig roast, barn dance
Allemande left!  Do-si-do!
Spontaneity here we go!

Long arm gendarme
My mistake namaste
Backpack bivouac
On the Road with Kerouac

Beat Zen's hey-day
Doing things our own way
Nonconformity, anything goes
Kerouac-Ginsburg-Burroughs

Shot to pieces, picking skin
Benzedrine, adrenaline 
Don't forget the Phenergan
Notify our next of kin

Long arm gendarme
My mistake namaste
Backpack bivouac
On the Road with Kerouac
© Mark Toney  Create an image from this poem.

white pulp

We all need sun, O white pulp
Pineapple and soft light, mango
Me first, then the policeman, then Solène,
We need a long Brazilian nap,
in Bahia or on the fine sand of Copacabana.

The tanned skins are full of secrets,
Vitamins, pulp and sunsets 
The tanned skins know our defects,
The erotic dreams, you liked so much,
I pray my Sweet that the time amazes you,

We all need sun, O white pulp
Pineapple and soft light, mango
Lyonnais as Parisians with glasses, need it
Acidulous slowness and charming apricots,
Come on, friend, let’s go to Brazil.





On a tous besoin de soleil, O blanche pulpe
D’ananas et de lumière douce, de mangue
Moi le premier et le gendarme, puis Solène,
On a besoin d’une longue sieste brésilienne,
à Bahia ou sur le sable fin de Copacabana.

Les peaux tannées sont remplies de secrets,
De vitamines, de pulpe et de couchers de soleil 
Les peaux tannées connaissent nos défauts,
Les songes érotiques , vous ont tant plu,
Je prie ma Douce que le temps vous étonne,

On a tous besoin de soleil, O blanche pulpe
D’ananas et de lumière douce, de mangue
Les lyonnais comme les parisiennes à lunettes,
De lenteurs acidulées et de charmants abricots,
Viens l’amie, embarquons pour le Brésil.

From My Roof Top

FROM MY ROOF TOP

From my roof top I see the world crumbles
I saw people of mine shout, endlessly
They shout for two common things
They shout for these two alone
Prosperity and democracy
They want an answer and their voices heard
But they were denied, all
An tears run down my cheek for them.

All these while two things are denied them
Just through the face masks of poli-sticks
So the country goes gaga
My country crumbles and crumbles fast
Faster than its expiry date comes
Two things are denied it as a cause
The suddenly, A man came panting
The power-man has come to shut us up.

He wears a coat too big yet very tight
To strangle our wriggling voices
'Go home, go home' I heard him shout
But he only rained saliva and a chewy gum
As I laugh, the riot explodes
Police, police, gendarme
Then blows and bloods
Bullets and batons.

Empty fists and stifled voices
There was a heightened battle to crumble a regime
So Mr. President answer me
Why poverty is now riding the economic horse
You alone jolly riding everywhere
For these decades you planted none, a seed
Your monarchy has divorced our democracy
Therefore go home, go home, too.

Yesterday your eyes were like those of an Angel
And you gaze upon us with mercy, passion, we all
Now your eyes beams of the Sun, Satan
Jesus! dear creator's messenger
Beg on our behalf, do it now
We plead your father, our grand, comes early to our rescue
To warn the world, of its bad nuts
Before it stands out against them.

We have started our calls, our shouts, our protests
From Tunisia to Egypt
Yemen to Syria
Brunei to Georgia
Here we come, to demand our pound of flesh
That, that has been taken from our toils
This day, not waiting, straight for it, now
From  where they are, hidden.

The roof tops of powers
As I watch them from my roof top here.....


Premium Member The Goat

In the summer, some fans climb the walls

For a game that's been played many falls

     And a player named Brady

     Many folks found as shady

For some shifts in the size of his balls ...



An inspection made by Le Gendarme

Thus concluded, no cause for alarm

     'Twasn't balls, frankly stated

     Haters hopes were deflated

For the sake ... of his glorious arm!




~ 1st Place ~  in the "Celebrity Limerick" Poetry Contest, Tania Kitchin, Judge & Sponsor.

Vacances En France

Vacances en France

Seven hundred miles we travelled,
Across both land and sea.
Because our friends had told us,
France was lovely as could be.

Two caravans we towed there,
To a villa called ‘la Ronce’,
They’d been there, so many times,
But us, well just this once.

We arrived a little weary,
They’d a puncture on the way.
A tyre blew off their caravan,
And ripped the side away.

We stopped and then a gendarme,
Called a man to change the wheel.
Like something from a storybook,
The scene was quite unreal.

We finally reached the campsite,
And drove in through the gate.
To begin our three week holiday,
We thought, now this is great.

They put us on two pitches,
That were near a mile apart.
And placed us both in sinking sand,
I threatened to depart.

They realised I meant it,
So they gave us two good sites.
Where we were pitched together,
And could gossip through the nights.
 
We spent our days by swimming,
On the glorious Français coast.
By evening we were drinking wine,
To cool our daily ‘roast’.

We took along our teenage kids,
With us they did not stay.
But spent their days, with friends in bars,
And made us parents pay.

The lifestyle there so different,
From the one we had at home,
A slower pace of living,
And not pestered by the phone.

We thought we were in heaven,
As we sweltered everyday.
While watching nudists on the beach,
Where we would swim and play.

But there was ‘one little drawback’,
Just a tiny one, you see.
The site had other visitors,
That drank much more than me.

These nasty little creatures,
Had a taste for human blood.
And feasted on our bodies,
Like nought but vampires should.

Swollen up from head to toe,
And even on our bum.
We looked like we’d been rolled in thorns,
Then toasted by the sun.

Amongst our cherished memories,
When we finally left our sites.
We took home thoughts of sunny days,
While scratching insect bites!

Ivor G Davies

Premium Member Around Town With No Pants

There once was a young lady from France
Who went around town with no pants
The gendarme didn't think
She should be showing her pink
So they covered up her pink with their hands


© Jack Ellison 2015


Good News

Good Evening, the BBC presents
The highlights from the days events

I pass you now to Sally Hughes
Who brings you all the evening news

Today in Paris, bomb explode, did
With paralise, electric grid
The Gendarme closed major routes
While soldiers search with guns to shoot
Fears eighty people may be slained
More than a score, badly maimed
The Euro falls against the pound
A wildcat strike on underground
Bringeth commute upon a stop
Catching travellers on the hop
The murderer that roamed the land
Has now been caught, we understand
Finally on a lighter note
A chimpanzee befriends a goat
They never leave each others side
The owner said with bursting pride

Now my colleague John report sporteth stuff
One goal for Arsenal was not enough

In the fourth round of the FA cup
Everton did Arsenal whoop
With goals galore, more than a brace
Midweek defeat, now saving face
Success too at Wimbledon
With three straight sets, against his one
The champion, four in a row
Calls it a day, its time to go
I place my racquet on the floor
For I no longer, achieve more
Let some new blood, attain my crown
Meanwhile, upon the Epson Down
The favorite,s out,  will take no part
With murmer found upon his heart
Its sad to hear, his jockey states
Racing not, is what he hates

I pass you now to my friend  Lou
Who bringeth weather news for you

Showery rain, doth teem until
Fall of snow, be-hammer hill
Then forked electric cracketh the sky
While thunderous drums boomed up on high
The once calm river tormenteth banks
By rising climb on each its flanks
Then suddenly as all begun
A quiet comes as peeps the sun 
With warmth of beam and lance of ray
Wildlife chatter at end of the day



And that is all we have this night
So taketh care and sleepeth tight
The BBC return on morn
With tales anew, of hate and scorn
© John Scott  Create an image from this poem.

You'Ve Been Betrayed

"Come with me on a rousing escapade!"
How temptingly he'd whispered in my ear.
"My dear, I promise there's nothing to fear."
How easily he'd managed to persuade
me. Then secretively, his plans were laid.
He'd spoken three words that seemed so sincere,
"Come with me."

Gendarme sirens sounded. It was a raid!
Suddenly, his occupation was clear...
A slave trader taking me to Tangier,
I was rescued and told, "You've been betrayed.
Come with me."


October 14, 2022
Rousing Rondine Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser

Rustic Civility

Spent seventy cents on sentry saints
Though soul and spirit rebel with the pulse
I read their abuse with an effort of excuse
This rum, this loaf to feast is grossly imbalanced
These pennies paid with pains on African plains
Twice a dozen days my labor effort to afford
This gesture though un-lorded is induced
To keep on keeping on a faint kiss on the cross
Multitudes embrace, a singly saint can't otherwise
Not for the hate, neither duty nor pride
It's to keep the tradition not to go instinct
We were schooled givers never lack
For fair play, takers also never lack
In appreciation, a pauper comes riding a Lexus
And by the way life goes, Earth will crowd Heavens
Wouldn't there be a gendarme post raised?
Then a ghetto for the screening of saints
But for the cents, the kobo's and cowries offered
Heavens will erect a bureau De change
God, for the treasure the Earth offers thee.

V For Victory

A lady friend of mine inadvertently substituted
the letter 'v' occasionally for the correct spelling,
suddenly the word 'nape' became 'vape' which at least
I found less predictable and stopped people getting 'neck.'

'Vow are you today?' she might ask, I would say, 'Vine!'
I remember the gendarme from 'Allo, Allo,
who would say: 'Gude moaning,' along with others,
together, it would probably have been, 'a bravo new vorld.'

Pop songs were a riot - 'Bridge Over Vubbled Waters,'
'It Must Have Been Vove' and 'Vinner Takes It All;'
some almost sounded right - Simon's, The Sounds Of Vilence,'
have you heard the latest - Whitney, The Vatest Love Of All.'

Bonnie Tyler was the classic, case of double-take,
in fact, she would say it was: 'A Total Eclipse Of The Vart.'

Woodbury New Jersey Whetstone One

Woodbury, new jersey home 
   to me self since birth
my very late mother 
   (bless her long departed soul)

   slaved and toiled 
   per accursed penury and dearth
tried her darnedest 
   to create happiness while on earth

would be livid with rage 
   at lack of neighbors’ manners
   if spirit of said deceased 
   returned to this home and hearth

so let this poem serve 
   as springboard to communicate anger 
   for whatever 
   this literary effort might be worth.
 
this aged body of mine creaky, 
   nearly out of steam, 
   and well nigh lost track
of countless times auld lang 

   cos sine and concomitant excitement 
   filled past and long distant childhood 
   waiting for ole saint nick
to careen down chimney flue lugging 

   that humongous and bulging sack
or going out hunting 
   (when this area mostly woodlands) 
   awash with fauna and flora

   and not unusual for pop to bring home 
   a buck sporting many tiered rack
caught in the cross hairs of firearms 
   seemed like gendarme of the pack

now, which memories flood my noggin, 
   akin to overflowing waters o the Merrimack
especially disconcerting with hostility 
   from youths politeness to lack

spouting expletives with flip of the bird 
   to us older folks who cough n hack
   similar to staccato machine gun fire 
   in terms of that barrage of flack

Premium Member Equal Rights For the Polite

Pardon me, sir
    No, you go first
  You have right of way
    I defer to you. Go ahead

  No, really. I'm in no hurry
    Neither am I
  Well, then. I'll just wait for you
    And I for you ...

  Now this is getting a bit silly. Please, it's your right of way
    Oh? I'm not sure that I really have right of way. Plus I like it here
  Gosh, I'm going to ask this gendarme here to help us 
    No, no. NO need for that! He's got better things to attend to

  Mr. McConnell? Is that you? Imagine! I didn't recognize you in the sunlight
    Uh, yes, yes. It's me, alright, uh, er, Mr... Mr...
  Schumer. Mr. Charles Schumer. But you can just call me 'Chuck'  
    O yes. Sure. I know you now. So, please go ahead, Chuck. Time's a-wasting 

  Mr. McConnell, now that I'm sure it's really y--
    O, Officer! Mr. Policeman! May I have a word with y--

Premium Member Around Town With No Pants

Once was a lady from France
Who went around town with no pants
The gendarme didn't think
She should be showing her pink
So they covered up her pink with their hands

Knight's Ingratiating Armor

Soaring into the shelter of loving arms
Swinging from hilt of protective gendarme
Swooning in the clutches of ingratiaging charm
Succored by incubating touches so warm
Shielded by your barelled chest from pending harm
Soothed by your enticing, enrapturing smarm
Serenading smile; pulsating lips to your kisses conform
Swivelled contours my erotic impulses inform

Premium Member Pigs

Some are my best friends are pigs from the farm
Don't ever say that to a member of the local gendarme
The quickest way to handcuffs
Meals of mouse turds and stuff
Best bow and declare they have girlish charm?

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